#my friend knows that she can just draw him and i’ll go insane

[stranded-in-the-gobi-desert]

sometimes i think i don’t have a favourite character of everything ive seen, and then i go to random mdzs long fics and ctrl+f for meng yaos name and then reasses my thoughts

[wethotcrazy]

NEVER GO HUNGRY EVER AGAIN

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

word count: 1727

hii it's been a while since my last fic and im stll on a high since the abu dabi gp, so heres a cute little lando fic. also just finished my first semester of uni hopefully i can be more active.

The soft glow of the monitors illuminated Lando’s face as he leaned forward, laser-focused on his game. His fingers danced across the controller, jaw set in determination. Voices of his friends buzzed through his headset, a mix of banter, callouts, and the occasional burst of laughter.

“Lando, mate, you’re absolutely throwing right now,” Max’s voice rang out, feigned frustration clear in his tone.

“I’m not throwing! I’m playing the long game,” Lando shot back with a grin, eyes still glued to the screen. “It’s called strategy, ever heard of it?”

“Yeah, the strategy of losing,” Ria quipped, drawing a chorus of laughter from the team.

“Alright, alright, just watch this,” Lando said, leaning even closer to the screen. His tongue poked out in concentration, the telltale sign he was locked in.

Time slipped away unnoticed as he navigated the game’s twists and turns. The familiar rhythm of the stream chat’s messages scrolled rapidly on his second monitor, but he was too deep into the game to glance over. Hours must have passed, but Lando’s mind was too preoccupied to register the growling in his stomach.

Then, a knock.

“One sec,” Lando muttered, sliding one earcup off his head. He glanced toward the door, his brows furrowing in confusion before realization dawned. He leaned back in his chair, eyes softening. “Come in!”

There was a brief sound of shuffling, the slight thud of a hip bumping the door before it slowly creaked open. Y/N stepped in, balancing a plate of food in her hands with the focus of someone carrying a national treasure. The chat’s speed doubled as her side profile came into frame, and messages like "OMG it’s Y/N!" and "Wifey alert 😍" flooded the chat box.

“Brought you dinner,” she said softly, walking toward him with careful steps. The aroma hit him before she even reached his desk, and his heart swelled with warmth.

“Oh, you’re a legend, babe,” Lando said, quickly sitting upright and scooting his chair back to give her space. He took the plate from her, eyes wide with admiration as he gazed at the meal she’d prepared. “This looks amazing.”

“I was worried you’d forget to eat,” she teased, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her smile was soft but knowing—she’d seen him get lost in games like this before.

Lando’s eyes didn’t leave her face for a second. His gaze flickered to the chat, catching sight of the flood of adoring messages. "The way he’s looking at her, I’m sick 🩸" and "That’s the look of a man in love" filled the stream.

“She’s literally the best ever, chat,” Lando said, his voice warm and unwavering. He reached up with his free hand to gently squeeze Y/N’s wrist before letting her go. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world, I swear.”

“I’ll get you a drink,” Y/N said, already turning to leave. “Wait here.”

“I—” Lando started, but she’d already slipped out of the room. He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head before glancing at the camera. “Chat, I’m telling you, I’ve won the lottery. She’s just…” He trailed off, unable to find a word that felt big enough to encompass it all. “Yeah. She’s perfect.”

“Bro, you’re down so bad,” Max’s voice cackled through the headset. “Not even hiding it anymore.”

“Why would I?” Lando shot back, eyes sparkling with pride. He lifted a piece of the dinner—some kind of stuffed pasta—and popped it into his mouth. His eyes widened as soon as he tasted it. “Okay, wait, hold on.” He covered his mouth as he chewed, glancing at the camera like he’d just uncovered a world-class secret. “This is actually insane. I’m eating like royalty right now.”

“Imagine getting home-cooked meals while streaming. Must be nice,” Ria sighed dramatically.

“Couldn’t be me,” Aaron added with mock bitterness. “I’m over here eating cold leftover pizza like a peasant.”

“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, mate,” Lando grinned, taking another bite. He’d meant to savor it, but he’d already eaten half before he realized it. “Chat, she’s turned into a whole chef since moving in. Two weeks ago she’d barely step into the kitchen, and now look at this. Look at me.” He gestured toward himself with his fork. “I’m living like a king.”

The chat’s pace somehow sped up even more, hearts, fire emojis, and "Y/N for president" messages flooding in.

Y/N returned with a cold drink in hand and set it beside him on the desk. Her eyes darted to the chat for just a moment before glancing at him, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “What did you say?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Nothing incriminating, I promise,” Lando said, eyes wide with faux innocence. “Only that you’re basically a professional chef now.”

“Mhm. Sure,” she said, rolling her eyes, but the smile on her face gave her away. “Just eat it before it gets cold.”

Lando’s face broke into a grin so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. He glanced once more at the chat. "Lando’s done for, he’s a goner," one person wrote, and he had to admit… they weren’t wrong.

He raised his glass to the camera in a mock toast. “To all of you wishing you had what I’ve got,” he said, eyes flicking back to Y/N as she disappeared through the door again, “I’m sorry, but it’s mine. All mine.”

A couple of months into living together, it had become a routine for Y/N to bring Lando food during his streams. It started as a simple act of kindness but quickly became a beloved ritual for both of them — and for Lando’s ever-watchful chat.

Tonight was no different.

Lando’s camera captured him in his element, leaning forward in his chair, controller in hand, eyes narrowed in sharp focus. His headset covered his curls, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in classic 'concentration mode.' On his second monitor, the stream chat moved at lightning speed, viewers spamming “LAN-DOOOO”, “HE’S SWEATING”, and various emotes of fire, skulls, and crying faces.

“Lando, you’re one shot, man,” Max’s voice rang in his ear, sharp with urgency.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—I got it, I got it,” Lando muttered, hands moving rapidly on the controller. “Just cover me for like... five seconds!”

“Five seconds too many,” Ria chimed in. “I’m not your babysitter, Norris.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lando quipped, grinning as he slid his character behind cover.

Then, it happened — the knock on the door.

“Yo, hold on. Hold on. One sec,” Lando said, throwing a quick glance at his door. A slow grin crept onto his face as he realized what time it was. “Chat, you know what’s coming,” he said, sliding his chair back.

“It’s timeeee!” one person spammed in the chat.

“WIFEY ALERT 🚨,” another user wrote, followed by a sea of heart emojis.

The door nudged open slowly, and in came Y/N, balancing a plate with one hand and holding a drink in the other. Her expression was one of mock seriousness, eyes narrowed like she was on a high-stakes mission. The second she stepped into frame, the chat went wild.

“SHE’S HEREEEE” “THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED” “HOLD ON, SHE’S CARRYING SNACKS??” “I’m so single it’s painful”

“Dinner delivery for one Mr. Lando Norris,” Y/N announced, placing the plate in front of him with a flourish like she was a waiter at a five-star restaurant. “Sir, your steak and garlic butter potatoes. Compliments of the chef.”

“Oh, you’re too good to me, babe,” Lando said, eyes wide with dramatic awe. He glanced at the plate like it was a priceless treasure, then looked at the camera, pointing at Y/N. “Chat, look at this. Are you seeing this? Chef Y/N at it again. Tell me I’m not the luckiest guy in the world.”

“You’re not,” Max’s voice cut in, laughing. “I’m still here eating microwave noodles, mate.”

“Skill issue,” Y/N shot back casually, leaning down to glance at Lando’s second monitor. The chat’s speed had tripled. Her lips twitched into a smile. “They’re calling you a simp, by the way.”

“I am a simp,” Lando declared without hesitation, holding a fork like it was a scepter. “And I have no regrets.” He stabbed a piece of steak and stuffed it into his mouth, eyes closing in exaggerated bliss. “Oh, my days. This is illegal. You’re ruining me.”

“Man’s got his priorities right,” Aaron’s voice chimed in through the headset.

Y/N’s laughter bubbled out, light and melodic, and she shook her head. “Don’t choke on it, simp. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” She leaned in and tapped a quick kiss to his cheek, which sent the chat into meltdown.

“CLIP IT, CLIP IT RIGHT NOW” “THE KISS. THE KISS. WE’VE WON.” “I’m crying. They’re so in love it’s disgusting.”

Lando’s cheek flushed pink as he glanced back at the camera, his grin stretching wider than it should. “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m done for,” he said, rubbing his cheek where her lips had been like he could still feel it. “But you’d be too if you had Y/N bringing you garlic butter potatoes, alright? Don’t be jealous. It’s not a good look.”

“You’re insufferable,” Ria sighed. “But also, I’d like to formally request a plate.”

“Tell Y/N I’ll pay her to ship it to me,” Max added.

“She’s not taking requests,” Lando shot back, grinning like a man with the world’s greatest secret. “This exclusive menu is mine and mine alone.” He held up the plate to the camera, displaying the perfectly cooked steak and crispy golden potatoes. “Look at that. The chat’s in shambles. They’re losing it. I would be too, honestly.”

He glanced toward the door, his grin softening as he caught sight of Y/N’s figure passing by in the hallway. “Yeah,” he muttered to himself, eyes trailing her for a moment longer before turning back to the camera. “I’m absolutely done for.”

“Somebody save this man,” Aaron’s voice cackled, but Lando didn’t even hear it.

“Don’t want to be saved, mate,” Lando said, mouth full of potatoes. He raised his glass toward the camera like he’d done a hundred times before. “Cheers to being a simp, yeah? I’ll happily stay down bad forever.”

[star2fishmeg]

Hi! Can I get a SCENARIO 145 with Quinn Hughes?

Thank you for requesting <3 - Happy New Year!

SCENARIO #145 Oral fixation

📞 dialling…

“That’s it, Q, fuck, so good.” She whined, fingers gripping his hair and keeping his face pressed between her legs. “You’re so fucking good at this, always know how to please me.”

Quinn groaned deeply in response, tongue licking urgently through her folds that his fingers spread open, nose bumping her clit with each dip. Her chest rose and fell fast, releasing short breaths as she lulled her head to the side, an elated smile pulling onto her lips and she cupped her breast, thumb stroking the nipple over the fabric of her dress the way Quinn did it - teasingly, tenderly. 

Tequila shots should’ve been savoured until the last hour but there they were, locked in Brock’s spare room letting the alcohol dilate their pupils and carry them away, igniting Quinn’s dire thirst for y/n yet again. It wasn’t supposed to go like that, they were supposed to chat with their friends, enjoy a few drinks and partake in the games but he couldn’t help his wandering hands and feet leading her away, letting his fingers hike under her dress and bunching at her waist before her calves hit the bed. She couldn’t say no to him dropping to his knees, wetting his lips with a wild look in his eye. 

He pulled away, breath fanning over her clit and eyes locked in on her glistening folds, thumbs spreading them further. He glanced up through his lashes, cheeks burning red at her hazed expression, arousal soaking his beard, “Pretty girl, you drive me fucking insane.”

He dove back in, one hand gliding to vice-grip her hip and his other spread over her stomach, wet thumb rubbed circles over her clit, drawing elongated and breathy moans from her throat. He took a long, languid lap between her cunt before swirling the tip around her opening, body ascending at how only his ears could hear the way her voice whimpered out his name in high-pitched and short huffs, toes curling and body squirming under every rapid flick and lap against her cunt. Making her cum wasn’t the objective, getting lost in the merciless stimulation of her leaking pussy and raw gasping caused by his mouth alone was the only thing that mattered. It was dizzying, for them both.

“Oh, Quinn.” a wanton moan rang out to his ears, at a volume only hear could hear over the music muffled, “All mine, shit- feels so good, don’t stop. If I cum, don’t fucking stop.”

“Do it, darlin’, cum on my tongue. I’ll just make you cum again,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her sensitive folds and shooting tingles through her nerves, “and again, and again.” 

Her stomach pulled tight, and she sat up abruptly when his tongue bullied into her at a brutal speed, his head burrowing with carnal greed. His nose bumped her clit along with the caressing of his thumb, beads of sweat prickled over her back and her jaw fell open, his name falling off her tongue in a passionate mantra.

[rafesangelita]

for latina!kook!reader can you write her being new to the island and rafe always hears people talk about the new girl and he dosent think anything of it until he actually sees her and she’s this latina goddess and rafe swears he’s never seen a more beautiful woman and he instantly knows he has to have her?please and thank you i love your fics!!💘💘

also maybe this is kind of inspired by the song “sensacion del bloque” so maybe you can base it off that song🙈

only if you want of course!! no pressure<3

a/n: i was obsessed with this song when i was little omg!! i’m so happy you love my fics anon <333

“what’s all the fuss about this new girl on the island?” rafe took a swig from his beer, drawing both topper and kelce’s attention almost immediately. “for starters, she’s like insanely pretty,” kelce started, “i don’t know her name, but she’s already running around figure eight with the socialites.” he raised his eyebrows as topper butted in. “i heard she speaks spanish,” he added, “where do you think she’s from?” topper and kelce started throwing out names of different countries while rafe started forming his own thoughts.

people moved to and from the island all the time, so while rafe didn’t think much of the whole ‘new girl’ thing, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that had literally everyone talking. all he knew was that you were attractive and could speak another language. he heard some guys at the country club raving about you the day before, and now his friends. was it the way you dressed? your hair? the way you walked? he needed to find out now.

“do you know where i could find her?” rafe interrupted kelce and topper mid argument. “uhm.. i don’t know? remember that house for sale right there by the shore? i think that’s the one she moved into.” topper looked confused as rafe stood up. “where are you going?” he followed him outside. “i have to see what the hype is about, man.” rafe was already in his truck before topper yelled out a ‘can i go too?!’

rafe felt like a stalker going over to your house. he wasn’t going to get off or anything.. he just parked across the street and staked the place out as if he was playing detective. apart of him felt ridiculous for doing this in the first place. here he was, waiting to just catch a glimpse of you. “what the fuck am i doing?” he cursed to himself. just as he was about to turn the engine back on, you emerged from the front door.

“te estaré esperando en el frente— i’ll be waiting for you in the front.” you chirped into your phone. rafe heard you before he saw you, the sight stealing all the breath from his lungs. you were dressed up in a tight, embellished, mini dress, your hair and makeup done to the gods while your butterfly heels sparkled under the setting sun. your beauty was otherworldly, and rafe couldn’t take his eyes off.

rafe was always the one to denounce something as ‘overhyped’ but he felt like the entire island talking about and praising you just wasn’t enough. you needed your own billboard. oblivious to the fact that you had looked up at him from your spot in the driveway, he closed his mouth as you smiled at him, your perfectly manicured fingers sending him a flirty wave. that was the cherry on top. rafe had gotten down and was about to approach you before a car full of girls drove up.

you walked down the pavement, the purse on your shoulder swaying with your hips as you looked up at him. “tal vez la próxima vez— maybe next time.” you laughed, getting in the car before he watched you disappear at the end of street.

[slaybestieslay946]

Oh me gosh can you please do a Luke Castellan x reader fic where he’s just so head over heels for her but she’s so clueless and everyone keeps trying to get her to notice but she won’t and like they’re bests friends🤗🤗

tysm for ur request! if you don't mind I tweaked it a bit so its annabeth and percy trying to set up Luke and reader! hope you enjoy!

KISS THE GIRL

word count: 2000

pairing: Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: Even though this is a daughter of poseidon fic, its not part of my future au! for Luke.

MASTERLIST

Percy and Annabeth were standing at the edge of the amphitheatre, talking about something mindless when they spotted you and Luke walking towards the entrance, seeming deeping engaged in conversation. 

Annabeth watched as you laughed at something Luke said and a light blush tinged his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Could he get any more obvious?

“Oi, Perce,” She whispered, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She asked, nudging him to look in the direction of the pair of you. 

“Yeah, I see my sister with Luke, what about it-” It appeared the realisation finally struck him, “Oh my god, are they-?” 

“I don’t know. He’s definitely into her, I know that.” Annabeth mused, inspecting the pair as they grabbed two wooden swords and began sparring together, laughing as they repeatedly dodged and side-stepped the other. 

“He told you that?” Percy asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. 

“Well, no. But it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?” 

Annabeth then gasped in realisation, startling Percy slightly before he realised it was just another one of her epiphanies. 

“We should get them together!” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Isn’t that something you leave up to Aphrodite kids?” Percy asked hesitantly. 

“Battle strategy and romantic strategy aren’t all that different.” She shrugged, before dragging him off to draw up new ‘romantic’ battle plans with her. 

STAGE 1: CONFRONT LUKE

Annabeth’s strategy wasn’t all that complicated, and she was pretty certain the most difficult part would be getting Luke to admit his feelings. But, as it turns out, he cracked pretty quickly. 

“Alright, you got me.” He sighed, holding his hands up in surrender, “I do like her, but can you blame me? I mean, she’s so smart, and beautiful, and kind, and-”

“That’s enough lover boy. Cool it.” Percy said, cutting him off with a groan. As much as he had given Annabeth his blessing to go along with this crazy plan, he still didn’t want to hear Luke gushing about how hot his sister is. 

“Sorry man.” Luke chuckled awkwardly, before the pair of boys turned back to Annabeth to lead the conversation. 

“So, now that you’ve admitted it, we need to start brainstorming how we’re gonna get you guys together.” She said, clapping her hands together and producing a roll of paper, with a long list of ideas that she promptly began to read out. 

The list ranged from pretty normal things like ‘take her out on a picnic’ to insane stuff like ‘bring her a monster's head as a gift’. Luke wasn’t so sure you would be a fan of that one, but he had to admit all the other items were pretty good ideas. 

“So what do you suggest, Annie? Work our way down the list?” Luke asked, and his little sister nodded, before outlining which ones she thought would be best. 

“We should start small, you don’t wanna freak her out,” She consulted the list again, thinking to herself, “Ah, here we go, ‘Give her a compliment’.” 

“Ok, I think I can do that.” Luke grinned, his head immediately flooded with things that he loved about you. 

“Just don’t make it weird, or I’ll revoke my blessing.” Percy grumbled, his arms crossed as Luke laughed sheepishly again. 

“Will do.”

STAGE 2: START SMALL

The next week mostly consisted of Annabeth and Percy spying on you and Luke at any possible moment. 

The first of his tasks, to give you a compliment seemed to go well. The pair of preteens watched on from their spot behind a tree as the pair of you separated to go to dinner, and Luke complimented your hair. You blushed slightly, and smiled widely, before rushing off to your own table in the dining pavilion. 

Luke quickly whipped around to look at Percy and Annabeth who gave him enthusiastic thumbs ups. 

His next task was to give you a small gift, and he decided that it should take the form of the matching charm bracelets he made with the younger kids. Annabeth and Percy sat with him as he deliberated over specific colours and shapes of bead, until they were nearly sick of his equivocation. 

But, as much as watching him make it was downright annoying, Percy had to admit the way you both wore your charm bracelets everyday afterwards was pretty cute. 

The final task of the week was to bring you flowers, and that whole day Luke could be seen wading through fields of wildflowers looking for the perfect ones to add to his bouquet. This was then snuck onto your nightstand later that night by Percy, who over the course of the week had become very invested in your blossoming relationship, a fact he would deny to the ends of the earth. 

STAGE 3: ESCALATE

“Alright Luke, time to bring out the big guns.” Annabeth announced, before clearing her throat and reading the list of tasks for the week. 

‘Sit at her table during dinner’

‘At least one compliment a day’

‘One instance of arm-around-the-waist contact’

This was the point at which the Hermes boy began to get slightly nervous. The other stuff before could be pretty easily written off as friendly, but sitting at someone's table at dinner? Only couples did that. 

“Are you sure that’s not moving too fast, I mean-”

“Luke Castellan, don’t be so damn pathetic! Grow some balls, before someone else steals your girl!” Annabeth exclaimed, whacking him over the head with the list. 

He nodded, “Yes Ma’am.”

From then on, he was pretty much unwavering in his determination. He sat at your table every mealtime, slinging an arm around your shoulder, or your waist. Anytime you came up with a capture the flag strategy, he’d praise you intelligence, anytime he saw you, he greeted you with a ‘Morning beautiful’ or a ‘Hey sweetheart’. 

Annabeth and Percy were shocked with his sudden progress, but pretty impressed with the way it was going. At this point, the pair of you were practically dating. 

The only minor setback came in the form of your complete and utter cluelessness. 

Percy had decided to test the waters with you, and gently float the idea of you getting together with Luke. 

“You’ve been spending loads of time with Luke at the moment.” He remarked casually as you both walked back to cabin 3. 

“You’ve just noticed I spend time with my best friend? Well done kid.” You laughed, ruffling his curly blonde hair. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He rolled his eyes, ducking out of your grasp. 

“Then what did you mean?” You asked, hands on your hips, a confused expression on your face. 

“I meant like, you guys being ‘involved’.” He shrugged, trying to make it sound as nonchalant as possible while looking out for your every reaction. He was unreasonably invested at this point, but oh well. 

“What?!” You exclaimed, your voice suddenly going higher pitched, “Nah, no chance! Luke would never.” 

Percy had to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor. It would’ve made sense if you denied having feelings for him, but to be so oblivious of how whipped that boy was for you? He thought you were smart. 

“Yeah, sure. I guess so.” He shrugged once again, before swiftly changing the subject. 

STAGE 4: KISS THE GIRL!!

“Guys, we have a problem.” Percy said, bursting in on Luke and Annabeth’s conversation the next morning. 

“What?” The pair asked in sync, concerned expressions on their faces. 

“Y/N is an idiot.” 

“Woah, don’t say that about her-” Luke began, desperate to defend your honour, but was cut off by Annabeth’s harsh glare. 

“What do you mean, Perce?” She asked, her tone level. 

“Luke, man, she has no clue you like her. Like she is convinced it’s impossible.” Percy explained, and Annabeth’s expression also grew confused. 

“Gods, she really is dumb.” She sighed, ignoring Luke’s chiding at insulting you, “We’re gonna have to really turn it up a notch. Luke, it’s time to really bring out the big guns.”

For the next few days, Luke, Annabeth and Percy spent most of their time rushing around preparing for Annabeth’s so-called ‘masterstroke’. 

And then, after much hard work from the trio, it was ready, and Luke was whisking you away from the campfire to the surprise he had prepared for you. 

“Luke, where are we going?!” You laughed as he dragged you along by the wrist, a piece of cloth tied around your head to block your vision. 

“You’ll see.” He chuckled, gently directing you around a tree root as he led you deeper into the forest. 

“I swear, if you’re kidnapping me I am not going to be happy.” You teased that infectious smile he loved so much covering your face. 

“No, no kidnapping tonight.”

You continued to joke around together as he led you towards his destination, until eventually you came to a halt, and he was untying the cloth around your face. 

You gasped in delight as you saw you were by the pier, and in front of you was a picnic blanket set up with all of your favourite food and drink. 

Immediately you grabbed him by the arm and led him to the blanket, thanking him all the way and gushing about how sweet and amazing he was. Meanwhile, Luke was trying not to pass out from the barrage of affection you were giving him. 

The pair of you quickly tucked into the meal, laughing and joking. But all the while, Luke was preparing his confession, and trying not to let his palms get too sweaty. 

Eventually, he decided it was time, and he made his move. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” You looked up at him with shining eyes, and he had to remind himself to breathe. 

“I’m in-” His love confession was cut off by the sudden boom of fireworks above you both, and he silently cursed himself for forgetting to organise a signal with Annabeth to start them. She really did have bad timing sometimes. 

“Oh my gods! Fireworks!” You exclaimed, nudging Luke to take a closer look, pointing out which ones were your favourites, and clearly any speculation about what Luke was going to say had escaped your mind. 

Eventually the display was over, and you turned to him yet again, gushing about how lucky they were that fireworks were out tonight. He couldn’t help but wonder how someone usually so smart could be so clueless?

“I organised the fireworks, Y/N.” He said, softly, placing his calloused hand over yours. 

“What, really?!” You blinked owlishly at him for a moment before furrowing your brows and asking, “Wait, how come?” 

Luke couldn’t contain his chuckle. 

“Isn’t it obvious by now? I’m in love with you. I’ve been trying to hint at it for weeks, but clearly I wasn’t being obvious enough.”

“What? Why?” You stammered, shock coating your face entirely. 

“Why am I in love with you?” He asked as if it was a stupid question, which to him it was, because he could list a million things that he loved about you. 

“Because you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind, and generous, and every time I see you I can’t help but smile because you're my best friend and I love you more than anything.” He rambled, wiping his slightly clammy palms on his cargos. 

“Now I’d really appreciate it if you’d put me out of my misery and reject me.” He said sheepishly, itching the back of his neck. 

But, of course, the rejection never came. Instead you were rushing forwards to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, slowly and deeply. 

And, about ten metres away, Annabeth and Percy could be seen high-fiving behind a tree, before skipping back to the campfire in glee.

[fadingdaggerr]

hey! I just wanted to see if I could request a Melissa x Reader fic where basically r is a teacher at the school and her best friend is ava, and r has the fattest crush on melissa ever but the only ones who know are ava, barbra, and mr johnson (bc dude knows everything)

and ava and barbra are trying to be wingman because melissa likes r. so just a bunch of mutual pining and fluff. and when they confess it’s snowing.

if you can’t do that that’s totally fine! but if you do thanks in advance and take your time

as you ever were

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above | 8k

includes: mutual pining, ava and barb meddling, kinda dialogue heavy oops, these bitches Oblivious, author is a classics nerd

warnings: (minimal) they/them pronoun use for R, sexual innuendos, (brief) alcohol consumption, kissing/light making out

note: sorry i took so long getting to this req. school started up and work is genuinely insane. plus i got a little too into writing this so editing too a little while. i actually really like how this turned out :)

Unforecasted frozen rain forced recess to be inside, everyone was to just stick to their classroom since there was no time to prepare the gymnasium for indoor recess on such short notice. The kids spent the first five minutes of recess begging you to go outside, to which you open the window, to which Sean says oh, hell no, resulting in a scolding from you.

Within five more minutes, your teacher-senses begin to tingle. Something is wrong. Looking up from your record book, you glance around the classroom until your eyes land on Karam. The seven year old had just moved to Philly with his parents a few weeks ago, and with this being his first week at a new school, he has been understandably frazzled. The boy is facing towards your desk, away from his classmates, sitting on a beanbag chair and crying to himself.

Immediately, you rise out of your chair and approach him gently, lowering yourself to sit criss-cross in front of him. “Hey, Karam. What’s going on?” you ask calmly, not trying to draw attention to his state nor baby him. The only response you get is a shake of the head, so you ask, “would you like some alone time right here?” Another shake of the head, another question, “do you want to talk alone, just you and me? You can bring Pickle.”

This offer seems to appease him, he instantly stands and goes to his backpack to grab his beloved stuffed sea lion. You get to the doorway and keep your hand on his shoulder where he stands just out of sight of the other kids, hoping no one will see him and decide to get nosy.

“Okay, chickens. I’m going to run across the hall very quickly, keep doing what you’re doing. Ashante, honey, you’re in charge,” you say with a little grin, it becomes a full smile when the girl salutes you.

Once you’re in the hall, Karam grabs your hand tightly with big tears ready to fall, and stays close as you cross diagonally to some of your students' previous second grade classroom. You lean into the doorway, still keeping Karam out of sight of others, and knock to gain a certain redhead’s attention. She’s quick to get to you, seeing a sort of urgency on your face.

“What’s up?”

“Can you watch my class, please? I’ve got a situation here,” you tip your head to the side to gesture to Karam, still gripping your hand and sniffling. “I promise I’ll pay you back somehow, lunch, lunch duty, recess duty, whatever. Just, please?”

Melissa takes one look at you pleading eyes and knows she can’t say no to you, especially not with a sad little friend by your side. “You owe me nothing. I’ll bring the kids to my room and you can come get ‘em after,” she says with a tone she hopes shows she’s being genuine.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” you rush out, immediately your attention falling back to the tears rolling down Karam’s cheeks. Melissa scoots over to your room, corralling the kids across the hall with an excited tone to keep their eyes on her and not you and their classmate.

With the extra bodies in the room, Melissa finds that the doorway was a good place to observe all the kids in her room. Though she tries to keep her eagle eyes on the students, they slowly slide to your form in the hall, crouched down below the boy’s eye level with his hand in yours. Her ears feel like a radio, tuning into the hushed volume you keep.

“It’s okay to be sad, buddy. Everything and everyone is so new, you’re allowed to be scared,” you say as you wipe his cheeks with a tissue, “and you and I both know that baba and daddy would never bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe. And Pickle, he’s here for you, and so am I.”

The boy leans into you for a hug, and your arms wrap tightly around him. Melissa tries not to stare, but she’s unable to take her eyes off the interaction. The way you rock him gently side to side, it was clear you weren’t letting go until he did. She vaguely remembers you mentioning that being a rule of yours when you first started at Abbott, when you took over her third grade class and her entire field of vision. 

Melissa averts her eyes back to the kids as the hug ends, but she still listens discreetly. You wipe Karam’s face as you speak, “let’s go get you some water, okay? And maybe, if you use those puppy eyes, nurse Makiah will let you pick out a lollipop. Does that sound like a deal?”

“Do we have to come back to recess?” The shyness in his voice makes you pout.

“Yes, because Miss Schemmenti was super nice to watch all our friends for me while we’re talking, and I’m sure she’d like her room back,” you peek up to Melissa quickly, “and when we get back, we’re gonna say a big ‘thank you,’ alright?”

“Yeah,” Karam answers quietly, but his next words are so quiet you barely hear them, “thank you.”

“Of course, chicken. Let’s go.” Melissa pretends she’s not watching you walk down the hall with a hand still in Karam’s, her eyes switch back to her class when you disappear around the corner.

When you return to get the kids from Melissa, she instead insists that you just sit out the rest of recess in her room since the students were already playing together. That’s the only reason, nothing else. You keep a cautious eye on Karam as he sits down to draw with one of Melissa’s students, and once you see him start to arrange his colors, you drift your attention to the woman next to you.

“Thank you, seriously. And I will be paying you back for this,” you say, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“I said you ain’t gotta do anyth-”

You cut her off, “I said. I’m. Paying. You. Back. Just accept it, I’m not budging.”

All she gives as an answer is a huff through her nose, but the smile that stretches her lips makes you feel fluttery. Her smile is not a rare sight, but it’s rare that you get to see it this close. When she faces away for only a couple seconds, you take the time to just take her in. Beautiful.

In the hall, a conversation between Barbara and Ava about clearing an extra bulletin board for the kindergarteners art projects was halted when they caught Melissa watching you with Karam. Both women looked at her, unseen even by Melissa’s typically sensitive attention, and all they saw was a soft putty of a woman. When you returned to the classroom, they slowly got closer to see what was going on, curiosity drawing them in.

All they could see were gentle, shy smiles and hidden glances of adoration for each other. It clicked in their minds at the same moment. Their best friends had it bad for each other.

Their plan was formed in a single glance.

—☽—

“So… What are you gonna do about Red?” Ava asks as she reaches the midpoint of her braid.

You’re sitting behind her on a cushion, parting a section in the back of her head to start on a braid yourself. Your focus makes your response time slower and quieter than usual, “what d’ya mean?”

Ava’s chuckles, “how you’ve got the hots for Schemmenti.”

Her obvious tone makes you stall, too long, but you try to deflect anyway, “I’ve got no clue what you mean.”

She laughs. Ava laughs and it would be in your face if she weren’t so busy with her hair. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’ve got that shocked expression on your face, the one where your eyes are wide and blank, face otherwise neutral, but she knows the expression well. The first time she’d seen it was the day she met you in seventh grade, and she proclaimed you her best friend to everyone in the cafeteria, just a mere three hours after meeting each other.

“Don’t lie to me, Gremlin,” she jokes, using her nickname for you she adopted from your favorite movie as a kid, “I know when you like someone, and you want that Italian sub to Italian dom you.”

“I hate you,” you groan, “if you mention even a single thing to her Ava, I will buy out all the caramel hair from the beauty supply and you’ll never see it again.” She gasps, as if it were a real threat you could carry out on your budget, but she knows how serious you are. With a roll of her eyes, Ava decides to hold off until you’re not braiding her hair to annoy you more.

Much later into the night and all there is really left to do is trim, seal, and add products to her roots, Ava knows she can’t let the topic of the previous conversation go. She decides to speak up while she trims the last few front pieces and you pick up the hair packaging and combs from around the room.

“Just saying though, if you stopped making ‘I wanna have your babies’ eyes, you could ask her out,” Ava tries to explain. She almost adds a what’s the worst that could happen? but she knows exactly where your mind will go.

“I don’t wanna ‘have her babies,’ you freak,” you sigh as you get some hot water, “I just… I dunno. I don’t want to ruin the friendship I have with her when she inevitably rejects me.”

She’s obsessed with you, she won’t reject you, Ava wants to say. Even if others, and even herself, would label her selfish, the one thing she doesn’t ever let slide is you letting your insecurity get the best of you. She likes her extra job as your personal hype-woman when you get in your head. Ava weighs her option, “well… you could put out some feelers. Invite her somewhere or, I don’t know, look her in the eye when you talk to her.”

“You’re right,” you say with a gruffness that she knows is defeat. If she can just get you and Melissa talking, interacting more, then maybe she and Barb can figure out a way to worm you two together.

“You do like her, don’t you?” She knows the answer, she wants you to say it though.

There’s a deep inhale before you answer, “of course I do. She- she’s so- I do like her, so much. Like, I want to bite a chunk out of the table when she looks at me.”

“Yeah, don’t do that, we don’t know where they’ve been,” Ava says with a touch of disgust, “and she’ll think you’re more of a freak than you already are.” She rightfully earns a smack on the shoulder at that one.

Dipping the ends of her hair into the hot water, you think silently. Ava has a point, if you spent even a tenth of the time you spend thinking about Melissa, when she was right in front of you, talking to her instead, you’d probably not be so nervous at the thought of making eye contact with her. Sometimes it was nice though, just getting to look at her, seeing her easy smile when she speaks to Barbara and the playful glint in her eye when she lovingly picks on Jacob. Whenever her attention falls on you, you shy away. Maybe Ava has a point.

At Barbara and Melissa’s weekly brunch that same Saturday morning, their conversation falls down a similar path.

Ever the professional deterrer, Melissa manages to push the conversation away from the topic of you, trying to keep Barb on Gerald or bible club. Usually her friend catches the hint to stay away from the topic, but there’s no way she was getting out of this one.

“So… are we gonna keep beating around the bush or are we going to talk about it?”

Melissa just sips her mimosa, suddenly interested in the painting across the room.

“Melissa.”

What… interesting brush strokes.

“Melissa Ann, so help me.”

She turns back, “yes, Barb?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Barb’ me. Spill,” there is no room for argument.

“There’s nothing to spill, Barb,” Melissa says, and she means it. It’s clear Barbara had picked up on her feelings for you, but nothing had been done to go past acknowledging she cared for you.

Barb tilts her head to the side, “oh, really? So, we’re just going to pretend that you’re not utterly infatuated with everyone’s new favorite third grade teacher?” Melissa stares at Barbara with wide eyes, thrown off by the blunt nature of her inquiry. Her friend only shakes her head, “for the good Lord’s sake, Melissa. Anyone with eyes can see you’ve got feelings for them, and I know you know that too.”

Green eyes shift away from brown, and they instead stare at the drink in front of her, nervous hands coming up to play with the umbrella to keep them busy instead of shaking in her lap. What Barb said wasn’t untrue, she knows it. Barbara Howard is always right in the end. But that isn’t where the apprehension in her gut stems from.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa mumbles, insecurity from her mind reaching her throat.

Barbara can sense it and tries a softer approach, “I think I can say on good authority that the feelings are probably mutual. You could give it a shot, they’d be lucky to have you.”

“And what’s that good authority?”

“My eyes,” Barbara deadpans, her face reading are you serious?

The conversation stops there, more of a self preservation move for the kindergarten teacher. Underneath the silence from Melissa, it’s obvious her mind is going in circles trying to weigh her options. Did she have feelings for you? Yes. But would she do anything if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain you’d return her feelings? No. She was almost certain you didn’t, you rarely ever looked her in the eye and you got all quiet and mumbly when she spoke.

Conclusion: Barb’s nuts.

—☽—

When Monday comes back around, you feel like the air in the lounge, or at least around your table, is different. Barbara’s eyes keep shifting between you and Melissa in what she thinks are subtle glances, but the constant eyes on you start making you nervous. Shifting uncomfortably for a moment, you rise from your chair to go to the coffee pot to get away from the prying. While your back is to them, a different form of attention falls on you. Olive eyes scan over you with a soft glint, taking the opportunity to admire you when you’re not looking. Her attention feels different from Barb’s, you can feel it without seeing it. It’s warm, all consuming.

When you turn back around, you can see a section of Melissa’s hair swinging slightly from motion. She was looking at you, and she was hiding it horribly. Instead of mentioning it, you just sit and check your school email. In the weekly scheduling, you see that the recess duty that you typically had with Mrs. Benning from sixth grade, was now with Melissa for the entire week.

Your eyebrows jump slightly at the find, before you have to fight an eye roll at Ava’s obvious meddling. Seeing this, Melissa speaks up, “something interesting?”

“No, no,” you barely get out at a normal cadence, “just switches in the schedule, wasn’t expecting it.”

She nods slowly, “are you… not okay with that?” You try not to pout at the insecurity that bleeds just the smallest amount in her question.

“Of course I’m okay with it, no reason not to be,” you hope your genuineness was showing, “just different is all.” A muted smirk crosses her lips before she takes a sip of her coffee to cover her face, you pretend not to notice the move, as well as the butterflies swarming in your stomach. You turn your attention to your phone in your lap.

To AVA ♔ : you’re not slick

From AVA ♔ : good thing i wasn’t trying to be

From AVA ♔ : get up in that cannoli

To AVA ♔ : speaking privileges revoked until further notice

You try to not think about the prospect of an extra half hour with Melissa today, and for the rest of the week, but the thought of her crosses your mind and brings a smile to your face. When you are walking your kids back from music, you selfishly take the extra second you’re in the hall to glance towards Melissa’s classroom. Cursive letters on the board in her loopy handwriting being narrated by her expressive face and fast-moving hands. Another grin crosses your lips before you spin on your heel back to your room.

As lunch rolls around, there’s a giddy feeling in your chest that grows with every passing second. Was she even going to talk to you? Maybe not, but time with Melissa is time with Melissa. Just when you’re sliding your gloves on, there’s a tap at your door. Red hair tucked under an Eagles hat and thick black jacket, she’s never been more beautiful.

Winter at Abbott meant beautifully crafted snowmen that had just a touch of dirt on it, but the kids just decided it was freckles. Most of them were working together on their snowmen, while others were trying to see how long they could hang upside down on the monkey bars in their snow clothes. Melissa, after five minutes of churning the idea over in her mind, moves closer to you, the nylon of your jackets making a fssh sound as they brush together gently. The red on her cheeks was likely from the cold, but the darker shade that blossoms at you smiling and turning to her, that’s all you.

The silence between you is easy, for once it doesn’t make Melissa skeptical. It’s comforting, no nervous rambling or awkward attempts to fill the silence, just peaceful silence as your shoulder moves closer to hers.

Tuesday is just the same, with Melissa coming to your classroom to pick you up for recess duty. Wednesday you meet her in your doorway. The peaceful silence is broken when you check your phone to see copious texts in the teacher group chat, most of which are Janine and Jacob and only two are Gregory. All you let out is a little hum.

“What’s going on?” Melissa asks from beside you, her eyes staying on Marcus attempting to climb on top of the monkey bars.

“Groupchat’s going crazy. Janine and Jacob want a ‘teacher’s night out plus Ava,’ and they’re asking if everyone’s good to go next Friday at seven,” your tone suggests a bit of disinterest, but if Melissa goes, you could be easily persuaded.

Her brows scrunch for only a half second before asking, “what bar?”

“The Penman’s Alcove? Guess Jacob suggested it,” you say after scrolling through the nearly forty messages.

“Sounds like Jacob suggested it,” she says with a sputtered laugh. To her delight, you chuckle from beside her, and she brings her full attention to you, “you going?”

You bite your inner lip and flick your eyes to the side, “maybe. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

—☽—

Ava, who always demands you pick her up when you go out, insists on driving to the bar. When she gets to your apartment and does a once over of your jeans and loose-fitting sweater, she gives you a face of disapproval.

“That is not club attire. What ladies are you going to pick up if you’re dressed like a grandma?”

You roll your eyes as you move to let her in, “it’s not a club, it’s a bar. That Jacob picked out. And I’m not trying to ‘pick up’ ladies?”

“Aw, you’re already committed to Schemmenti. Cute,” her laugh at her own comment is cut off by the pillow you whip at her head, another ready if she pipes up again, “no need to get violent, I’ll stop.”

Her only reply is a huff as you grab your boots and shove in your fluffy-socked feet. Ava rises off the couch, leaving the pillow-turned-missile behind. When she’d asked you earlier in the day if ‘your woman’ was coming to the bar, you’d only shrugged, but with a quick text to Barbara, Ava knew the redhead would be there.

Barbara and Ava had made a pact, that despite their differing reasons for not wanting to go, would only attend the outing to insure that you and Melissa would both go as well. It had taken some convincing on Melissa’s end, but the moment her best friend said your name, her tune changed. She agreed to go as long as she drove herself there, so that when she wanted to inevitably leave early, she could.

As Ava pulls into the parking lot of the bar, neither of you hold back the rolling of your eyes. It was very Jacob. You share a look with your best friend, silently asking what did we agree to?

The Penman’s Alcove is tiny, shoved into one of the smallest brick buildings either of you had ever seen. One window was completely blocked off by a decorative book display, the other gave view to the wooden bar top and wooden support beam that was turned into a cylindrical bookcase with lights weaving around it. What is lacking in space, it clearly made up for in atmosphere.

“You both came!” Jacob’s voice echoes from the door to where you and Ava stand as you evaluate the building. You immediately elbow Ava to stop the joke that you could feel on the tip of her tongue. 

“Said I would, didn’t I?” you asked as you got closer, appreciating how Jacob switched his arms from the instinctive hug he wanted to give to giving you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Anyone else here yet?”

“Well, Janine, Gregory, me, duh, Barbara, and Melissa just got here, so,” his voice becomes a little sheepish, “you’re the last ones here.”

“Fashionably late,” you and Ava say at the same time, though your tone is more flat since you only said it because you knew she would.

Walking into the bar, the small space didn’t feel bigger, just smaller as you realized just how many shelves of countless books there were. The twenty person capacity limit was starting to make sense as you quickly side stepped around other people to keep up with Jacob. Everyone comes into view, but as green eyes meet yours, cameo light surrounds her and she’s all you can see. The stutter in your step is noticed by no one but Ava, who subtly grabs your arm to pull you closer to everyone, closer to Melissa.

Greetings and small talk fill the space, but all of it is background noise. When Janine finally releases you from her energetic retelling of the four hours it’s been since she last saw you, your attention is finally able to rest on the woman who it had been dying to be on. Melissa sees your eyes flick around until they find her, and she curses how her heart flutters at the way you move towards her in an instant.

Leaning your arms on the bartop, you lean over slightly to order a rum and coke before turning entirely towards the redhead. Even though it had been barely four hours since you’d seen her, you felt yourself missing her. Her eyes, her hair, her laugh, especially the one she barks out when she can’t control herself and laughs suddenly. Something in the navy shirt she wore instead of her bright greens and pinks told you she wanted to fit into the environment, like she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a… Jacob place. Her attempt to keep attention away, yet for you it was impossible not to be drawn to her.

Just like every other time you saw her, your eyes quickly dipped to her neck, a tiny smile passing your lips at her Saint Dominic pendant she had received from her Nana before she’d passed. When you met her eyes, the small smile on your lips grew, and hers did to match.

“Thought you’d never show up,” Melissa says playfully, but with a quiet tone, her words only for you.

“Surprised you even showed,” you mimicked her tone.

Melissa weighs her options before replying, “Barbara told me I should, told me I can count it as my good act of the year.” She relishes in your silent laugh, little puffed breaths leaving you as you turn your face away from her just for a moment to hide. Melissa had realized three days into knowing you that this was her favorite thing, this quiet laugh of yours, she knew that when you turned away, it meant it was genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” you say with earnest, “if that's any consolation.”

A smile plays on glossy, pink lips, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

Two drinks later, and you found yourself meandering through the shelves of books, naturally being drawn to the fantasy section that was oddly close to the classics you also enjoyed. The small bar had reached capacity only a half hour after you’d arrived, and the bustling conversation was starting to pierce your eardrums. The cushions on the floor had become your new seat, in this almost-quiet corner.

The light vibrations of footsteps approaching brings your mind out of the dragon story you were falling into. Your eyes look up to see red hair contrasting against the shadows from the shelves. Melissa lowers herself carefully onto the cushion beside you, taking utmost care in not getting too far into your space. Her finger pokes the book in your hands, pushing it closer to you to read the cover, only a low hum leaving her throat.

She bumps her knee with yours, a silent you alright? She’s seen you get overwhelmed at assemblies and work parties before, often keeping an eye on you as you stuck to a corner, too polite to leave the room. You bump her knee back, a little smile on your lips, a quiet I’m okay. Melissa plays with the creases in her jeans as she tries to think of what to say, but you beat her to it.

“You know what’s fucked? You can’t even check out the books here,” you state with exasperation. “What’s the point of having all these books if you can only read them if you come here?”

Melissa warms with affection at your word, “No one would bring them back, hon.”

“I would,” you mumble with an incredulous tone in your voice, “but no, not even a checkout fee or, I don’t know, collateral.”

“Collateral!” Melissa laughs out. “Gonna hand over your watch to hold onto until you bring the book back?”

“I’d give them my car for those early editions of Mary Shelley’s work,” you half-joke as you nod towards the faded green and blue books. You look at Melissa for a moment, reading her face quickly before leaning into her space, “don’t even suggest stealing them.”

“Would they even notice?”

“These IPA-enjoyers? Definitely, unfortunately.”

Melissa never cared much for the classics, especially not the ones assigned to her in school. She preferred the historical fiction and true crime novels her grandfather introduced her to, but there was something intriguing about the ones you were showing her. There is peace in the way your fingers trace over the pages, a sort of reverence in how you hold each book. Sylvia Plath and Emily Brontë, Greek tragedies and comedies, they never sounded this interesting as they did when they came from your lips.

The world outside of this hidden corner continues to disappear around the two of you, the prying eyes peeking around the corner are completely lost on the two of you. Your eyes on the books, Melissa’s eyes on you. Ava and Barbara’s eyes, on the other hand, were flicking between the two of you before finding each other's eyes. A shared nod began the next step in their plan.

Ava, in a highly out of character fashion, quietly left the bar without saying anything to anyone, and drove off towards Iggy’s apartment. Barbara, pretending not to notice, went back to her conversation with Gregory regarding what he plans on growing in the garden for springtime. It’s Janine who notices Ava’s lacking presence, she peeks out into the parking lot, and sure enough, the silver car you’d arrived in was gone.

In a child-like fashion, Janine tugs on Barbara’s sleeve to gain her attention, “Ava’s gone.”

“What?” Barbara responds with faux surprise.

“Ava, she left. Like, gone. Not here,” without having to ask Barbara to be the one to tell you, Janine was definitely hinting at not being the one to say your best friend ditched you here.

The kindergarten teacher follows the maze of shelves, steps quickening as she gets closer to hushed voices in the furthest corner. In your own little, say you and Melissa, her legs stretched out as she leaned back against her hands while you sat close to her in criss-cross. There are two piles of older books in front of you, ones you had already shown her and the ones you were going to, and Melissa seemed completely unbothered by the infodumping you laid upon her.

Barbara politely clears her throat to make you aware of her presence, watching you nearly jumping away from Melissa as you realize the closeness between you. Pretending not to notice she speaks carefully, “dear, I just wanted to tell you that Ava left a couple of minutes ago.”

The nerves you felt dissipate, annoyance and a small anger taking its place, “what do you mean? She fully just left? Did she even say anything?”

“No, she must’ve snuck out. Janine noticed before the rest of us that she’d taken off,” Barbara is impressed by her own ability to fib so easily.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, keeping yourself from exploding. You rise from your spot next to the redhead, who is quick to follow in your stride, and grab your phone to call you friend. Speedily stepping through the shelves, you step outside as you press Ava’s contact.

She picks up on the second ring, which only pisses you off further, “what’s up, boo?”

“Where the fuck are you? You did not just seriously ditch me,” you waste no time.

“That little library was not the vibe. Plus, you were too busy nerding it up with Red,” she jokes, almost mockingly.

“You were my ride, Ava,” you sigh, “this isn’t cool, especially when I’m going to have to ask Janine to drive me home since she carpooled with Jacob and Gregory.”

“I know who you can ask for a ride,” the laugh she speaks through only hammers home your aggravation, “maybe she’ll give you more than one.”

A hard groan escapes your throat, “you owe me big time, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank me later,” she hangs up on you before you can respond, the beeping tone of the disconnection feels more mocking than your friend straight up laughing in your ear.

When you step back inside, your brows are furrowed, deep creases on your forehead as you practically steam with anger. Never before would Janine, Gregory, or Jacob say they were intimidated by you, but right now, they can’t deny that you are almost as frightening as Melissa’s angry walk. Barbara looks at Melissa pointedly, motioning with her head towards you to tell her to talk to you.

The redhead is already in motion, immediately in front of you, “what did she say?”

Sarcasm and irritation drop from your voice, “the ‘library’ wasn’t ‘her vibe,’ so she’s apparently ditching me to ride home with Gregory and the Chipmunks.”

She doesn’t want to laugh at your predicament, but she can’t help it. Her hand rises to rub your arm reassuringly, “I’ll drive you home.”

“You don’t ha-”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Let me get you home,” the gentleness in her voice makes the icy anger in you melt into a puddle, the hand on your arm was grounding.

“Okay,” your voice just above a whisper in the space between you.

“Okay,” her tone matching yours as she smiles.

Melissa’s car is warm, her presence beside you warmer. With only a couple blocks left before you reach your apartment, you find yourself wishing you knew how to slow, or even stop, time. Would inviting her upstairs seem forward? Is asking her if she wants coffee better? No, stupid, who wants coffee at ten at night? All you need is to be around her.

When her car parks in the lot of your building, neither of you move, not you to get out or her to tell you to. You turn your face towards her, resting your chin on your shoulder, peering through your lashes at her. She matches your position, looking back at you with a little grin.

“Thank you for listening to me,” your voice is quiet and insecure.

Melissa leans a little closer, “thank you for letting me.”

“I’ll see you Monday?” You don’t want to leave, but despite it being Friday, it has also been a school day. You’re tired, and you can see in her slightly droopy eyes that she is too.

“Bright and early,” she answers, eyes flicking to your lips shortly in a way you wish you hadn’t seen. She makes it impossible to want to leave.

Melissa stays in her parking spot until you disappear into the building, not before you glance once more at her and wave shyly. Her head rests against the steering wheel as she struggles to compose herself, before pulling out on the street.

You both fall asleep that night to dreams about the secret corner you’d found yourselves in, books stacked around while your eyes stayed on each other.

—☽—

There’s a certain pep in your step come Monday morning, but a small amount of dread knowing you’ll have to face Ava later. She knew better to keep her distance over the weekend, but though your annoyance with her was fading, it was definitely there. You push into the lounge, immediately gravitating towards the coffeemaker.

You enjoy the hum of the TV, Jim Gardener’s voice coming from the speakers as you focus on Melissa in your periphery. Clicking steps in the hallway stiffen your back, all eyes in the room shifting to you as your best friend, boss, and ditcher enters. The cocky smile on her face falls when you stand and leave the room without a word.

“Seriously? Still mad?” Ava asks with such a genuine tone that Gregory’s head drops into his hands.

Melissa speaks before Ava can even blink, feeling like she had to defend you after seeing how upset you’d been, “so selfish you couldn’t even give a heads up? Some best friend you are, ditching them.” Ava only responds by raising her hands in defeat, giving up on an argument with Melissa before it starts.

“You checking on that one or should I?” Mr. Johnson asks from the doorway where he’s collecting the trash, his eyes set on Melissa. His answer is just the second grade teacher pointing at herself in question, surprised that he would’ve thought of her to check on you. His face screws up, “duh? Who else?”

She listens. When Melissa reaches your classroom, quickly carried by fast and angry steps, she sees you at your whiteboard, writing the agenda and date on it. The unusually harsh strokes of your writing show her exactly what mood she’s walking into. She almost jumps when she knocks on the door and your head whips her way, hard face softening.

“Hey,” you breathe out, going back to writing the afternoon’s schedule.

“Hey. I just wanted to check on you,” she she says as she slides the orange marker down towards you.

“I’m fine, really. I’m mostly just pissed Ava left me like that and thinks it’s hilarious. You’d think I would be used to it by now, but apparently not,” you huff, “just like her mom always says, Ava’s gonna Ava.”

“How long you giving her the silent treatment?”

“Till she actually apologizes and doesn’t just assume it’s all good, it’s the only way. I’m not even that mad about it, if she wanted to leave she could’ve just said,” you shift your weight from foot to foot, “it’s the principle of it.”

Melissa glances over your face, grateful you don’t seem to notice, and she realizes it's less anger, more disappointment. It’s so starkly different from the smile that played on your lips and the gleam in your eyes just the other night. She so badly wants that back, she craves your smile.

It took three days for Ava to finally apologize, and she only does when she comes over to your apartment, no interest in letting the other hear her grovel. She hadn’t meant to make you upset, she was just trying to get you and Melissa alone, and so far, her efforts seemed to be working. She was diligent to not let out that it was a joint plan between her and Barbara, and that Melissa was getting played just as much as you.

—☽—

A snow storm Thursday night almost takes out your power, and the chill seeps through the brick walls, forcing you to bed early in a bundle of blankets. You wake up to your phone ringing at five in the morning, only a half hour before your alarm was to go off. Seeing Ava’s contact worried you immediately.

“What?” you say through a yawn, “are you okay?”

“Aw, you love me,” she jokes through her own large yawn.

“I do. Now, what do you want?”

“It’s a snow day, bitch. The roads aren’t too bad, but apparently the buses are fucked.”

You sigh with contentment, “snow day means I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, lazy. I’ll see you tomorrow for wine night?”

You can barely answer through another yawn, “yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

It’s not until ten that you wake up again, sunlight reflecting off the fresh snow and making your room too bright to stay asleep any longer. The air in the room is too cold for your taste, leaving you to wrap your throw blanket around yourself as you trudge out to your kitchen for the promise of warm coffee. As coffee drips into the pot, the star-printed throw is replaced by your favorite grey sweatshirt, the faded university logo still maintaining a touch of the maroon and silver it once was.

The second cup of coffee tastes of cinnamon and cream, the warmth keeping your hands from stiffening under the cold of your building. No matter how much you turned up the heat, the draft made it obsolete. As you pour a third cup, clinging to the warmth it gave, you feel your phone buzz in your Abbott sweatpants.

From Melissa: How busy are you today?

To Melissa: on a snow day? not at all. why? 

From Melissa: I’ve got a surprise for you.

To Melissa: should i be worried?

From Melissa: Do you trust me?

To Melissa: you know i do

When she doesn’t answer, anticipation starts to take hold. It hits you as you nervously sip your coffee, you’re still in your pajamas and Melissa is coming. You tumble down to your room, switching the sweatpants for an old pair of jeans, the faded sweatshirt for a thick black sweater, fluffy socks into slippers. Part of you grapples if you should make coffee for the both of you, the other part tells you a fourth cup may give you a heart attack upon seeing Melissa, your heart would never be able to take it.

A quiet ping from your phone alerts you that Melissa is down in the lot as she waits for you. You don’t even take a moment to answer, just quickly throwing on your denim jacket before hurrying down the steps to the bottom floor. Peeking your head out, you see the only car with lights on, the familiar black car making you smile. The snow had slowed overnight, wisps still quickly sticking to your hair and clothes.

Melissa doesn’t notice your approach, not until you tap on her frosted window with your knuckles, making her jump. She was lost in her mind, thinking about how bad of an idea it was, startling quickly at your tap, but quickly soothed by your smile and little wave. Melissa steps out of the car, leaning against it to keep you from peeking in her window and seeing the passenger seat.

“You really shouldn’t’ve driven, what if the roads were nasty?” you say with concern, despite the fact that you couldn’t be happier with her presence.

“They weren’t, I got here just fine,” she says, placating the worry.

You can’t even hide the smile that shows itself, “what sort of surprise was worth the black ice?”

“There was no black ice,” she laughs, shifting under your gaze, “but I hope it’s a surprise you’ll like.” There’s an unusual nervousness in her, one that you can’t help but feel and want to soothe.

“If it’s from you, I definitely will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Try me,” you cock your head to the side, a sly smirk on your face. Melissa ducks her face, concealing her blush. She opens the door, leaning in to grab the bag from the seat. A deep breath leaves her lungs as she composes herself before facing you. The paper bag is stretched out towards you, green eyes begging you to relieve her of this weight.

You try to be careful, not wanting the gentle snow to touch the contents. Peering up at Melissa, she urges you to open it. You reach in and feel something, a cloth covered board you think, until you feel what you think are pages. A book? No, three.

You pull back your hand, the books coming with it. A faded green cover with black serif text reads Frankenstein, the blue reads The Short-Stories of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley: A Complete Collection, and the final red one, Mathilda. The books you had fawned over a week ago were now in your hands, the very same you said you’d give your car for. No words form, only thick tears in your eyes that you pray don’t fall. They were the exact same books, the copies from the bar, and now they’re in your hands.

You can only look at the redhead, absolutely bewildered. She gives you a weak smile, having a hard time gauging your reaction and you slide the books back into the bag to protect them. There’s no warning, not verbal or even a glint in your eye, before you fling yourself onto her, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, oh my fucking God, thank you, thank you, what the fuck?” your words fall out of your mouth, barely able to contain the delight running through your veins.

Melissa doesn’t answer right away, only wrapping her arms around you and basking in the feeling of you there. You smell like coffee and cinnamon, she wishes she could find out if your lips taste the same. Neither of you move, not wanting to be the one who breaks away first.

After a minute, your face lifts from her neck, but you don’t remove yourself from her arms. She meets your gaze, watching you watch her. Melissa is the most beautiful person you’ll ever meet, you’re sure of it. But right here, right now? She’d never been more so, nothing else compared to the snow stuck to her lashes, the pink of her cheeks from the chilled air, the lack of makeup across her skin allowing you to see all her freckles and the lines around her eyes.

“You got me the books,” it's a simple sentence, but there’s a weight to it that Melissa almost can’t handle.

She smiles so softly it makes you want to cry, “you love them, you wanted them.” The look in your eyes changes, and Melissa seems to notice. She finally speaks up, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is, at least I hope not,” you answer truthfully.

“Why that look on your face then?” Her lips look so soft, you have to tell her.

You swallow your pride, pursing your lips before telling her the thought that had been on your mind since you met her, “I really want to kiss you.”

It appears she feels the same, Melissa immediately leans into you, lips pressing to yours. You knew they’d be soft, and God were they. Her hands plant themselves on your hips while yours cup her neck, pulling her as close as you possibly can. Spinning suddenly, you find yourself pressed against her car, cold metal freezing you through your layers, but warm lips make the cold feel little. For someone so abrasive, Melissa was so soft, holding you like you were the most precious thing to her. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip, asking for entry. And who are you to deny her?

Her tongue traces yours, a groan comes from deep in your chest that only spurs her on further. She presses impossibly closer to you, hands sliding up to hold you at your ribs, pressing into your jacket in an attempt to get closer. Your blunt nails dig into her neck, not enough to hurt, just to feel more of her. All you’ve wanted since you met her was to be this close, and it felt like an unreachable dream until now.

Her lips pull away, only to be chased by yours. You press gentle, chaste kisses to her lips, and it only becomes more difficult as matching dopey grins grow on your faces. Her hand rises to your cheek, caressing the chilled skin that warms under her touch.

She barely hears your words over her rapidly beating heart, “you’re so pretty.”

“Haven’t seen yourself then, huh?” she jokes, pretending your statement didn’t make her feel like a giggly teenager.

“Funny, but I mean it. You’re so pretty,” your hand shifts around her cup her jaw, “I can’t believe you got those books for me. How?”

She smirks to herself, “I just asked nicely.”

“Nicely? Did you bat your lashes and give them that award-winning smile?” The sarcasm that should have been there sounds more like adoration, the lazy smile on your lips making them look even more kissable than they’d been before.

“Exactly, they just handed them right over,” she feels like a pile of mush with you looking at her like this.

The hand on her jaw pulls her in closer, “they’d be stupid not to.” There’s no chance to reply, just your lips pressing to hers again. It feels as easy as breathing with you, like she was supposed to be doing this the whole time. When you pull away, it’s just barely, a silent request in the way you stroke her cheek.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from you to take her keys out of the ignition and grabs her purse from the floor of the car. An arm wraps around hers as you lead her towards the door to your building, the other tightly holds the books against your chest. It was too soon to say it, but you knew that right here, right now, you were utterly in love with Melissa Schemmenti. The woman who probably threatened the employees at the Penman’s Alcove for the books when they said she couldn’t buy them, the one who listened for two hours as you spoke about authors and books she’d never cared about before.

She cared now. She cared because you did.

Melissa knew the moment you saw the books, that she would do whatever it takes to see that wonder on your face again. She thinks to herself that endeavor would be a good way to spend the rest of her life.

title is from a quote from mary shelley’s mathilda: “you are still, as you ever were, beyond beautiful expression.”

i chose the st. dominic for mel’s pendant bc hes typically worn by educators

feedback appreciated as always <3

[chelseaknoo]

Can you imagine Marshall at his current age dating a young fan

Eminem x young fan! Reader

Part 1

You were a college student at a nearby university, juggling classes and life like everyone else. Ever since you were a kid, you’d been a huge fan of Eminem—not just for his music, which you absolutely loved, but also because of how great he looked. There was something about him, from his intense eyes to the way he carried himself that always drew you in. His music had been a big part of your life, but it was hard to ignore the fact that he was just as captivating on the outside as he was with his words.

It was a day like any other at college, the usual mix of lectures, textbooks, and coffee breaks. You’d been running on little sleep the past few days, trying to keep up with the demands of school while balancing your personal life. It was a Tuesday afternoon when you met up with your friends for lunch in the student center. You were halfway through taking a bite of your sandwich when your best friend, Sophie, practically lunged across the table at you, holding up her phone with a huge grin on her face.

“Guess what?!” Sophie nearly squealed, her eyes wide with excitement.

You raised an eyebrow, still chewing. “What? You’re acting like you won the lottery or something.”

She waved the phone in front of you, and before you could even process what was going on, she slammed it down on the table, her smile almost impossible to contain. “We got tickets to Eminem’s concert this weekend!”

Your heart skipped a beat. It took a moment for the words to fully sink in, and when they did, your jaw dropped. “Wait—what?! You’re serious?!” You almost couldn’t believe it. You’d been a fan of Eminem for as long as you could remember, and the idea of seeing him live had always been a distant dream.

Sophie leaned back in her chair, smug but thrilled. “Yeah, we were quick on the draw. I got us the VIP tickets, too. We’ll be in the front row, right by the stage.”

The world seemed to slow down for a moment. Your thoughts scattered, overwhelmed with excitement. “No way… Sophie, you’re telling me I’m going to be *right there*? Like, right in front of him?”

“Yup.” Sophie beamed. “We’ll get to see him up close. I can’t wait!”

You looked over at your other friend, Mia, who was sitting across from you with a knowing smirk. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Mia chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. “I had a feeling Sophie was up to something. She’s been talking about this concert for weeks.”

You turned back to Sophie, still in shock. “How did you even manage to get VIP tickets? They sold out so fast!”

She shrugged casually, as if it was no big deal. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. I had notifications set up, and when they dropped, I was on it. The moment they were available, I clicked.”

You could barely contain your excitement now. “I don’t know what to say… This is insane! I’ve been listening to Eminem since I was a kid, and now I’m actually going to see him perform live. This is literally a dream come true.”

Sophie grinned. “I knew you’d freak out. And trust me, it’s going to be amazing. We’ll be right there when he’s on stage—just imagine it. You’ll be close enough to *see* every detail. The lights, the energy, the music… It’s going to be unforgettable.”

Mia nodded in agreement. “It’s going to be wild. Eminem’s concerts are legendary. I can’t even imagine how incredible it’s going to be being that close.”

You leaned back in your chair, your mind racing as the reality of the situation finally started to hit. “I can’t believe this is actually happening. I’ve listened to his music for years, and now I’ll be in the same room as him. I might even get to see him up close, maybe catch a glimpse of those piercing blue eyes that have haunted my dreams since I was a teenager…”

Sophie laughed at your obvious excitement. “Oh, I’m sure he’s just as beautiful in person. We’ll see him for real, not just in music videos and on Instagram. The anticipation is going to be insane.”

Mia leaned in, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not going to faint when you see him, are you? I’m worried you might pass out from excitement.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, still grinning. “I’ll try to keep it together, but I can’t make any promises.”

The conversation shifted as the three of you continued to discuss the concert, with Sophie diving into the details of the event—the venue, the setlist, what to wear. But all you could think about was how surreal it felt. You’d seen Eminem perform countless times on TV, heard the roar of the crowd in interviews and live recordings, but this? This was real. You were going to be there, in the front row, experiencing it all.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. You kept replaying the announcement in your head, running through the details of what the night would be like. Would he be just as intense in person? Would he acknowledge the crowd, or would he just get lost in his own world on stage? You imagined the energy, the lights flashing, the bass pounding through your chest as Eminem spit his bars in rapid-fire succession. You could almost hear the crowd chanting along with him.

The excitement only grew as the days passed, and soon enough, the night of the concert arrived. You and your friends met up, dressed to impress in your VIP gear, and headed to the venue. The closer you got, the more your heart raced. The massive crowd, the glowing lights, and the hum of anticipation all made the atmosphere electric.

You were ushered to your front-row seats, and as you looked around, the sight of the stage made your breath catch in your throat. It was real. You were going to see him live. The lights dimmed, and the crowd erupted in cheers as the opening beats of Eminem’s hit song blasted through the speakers.

The energy was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The bass vibrated in your chest as the crowd screamed and swayed. You could feel the heat of the stage lights as they began to flash. And then, there he was—Eminem, standing at the front of the stage, his signature hoodie and cap in place, the unmistakable swagger in his step.

You were so close, you could almost reach out and touch him. Your heart pounded in your chest as he began to rap, his voice so powerful and crisp. You couldn’t help but smile, eyes glued to him as the music filled the air.

Sophie nudged you with a grin. “See? Told you it was going to be amazing.”

You barely heard her over the sound of the crowd, but you gave her a thumbs-up, still in awe. This was the moment you had dreamed about, and it was finally here. Eminem was right in front of you, and the night was only just beginning.

The concert had been nothing short of incredible—every beat, every word, and every moment felt like a dream. You and your friends had screamed, jumped, and rapped along to every song, and now you were buzzing with the high of it all. The thought of what came next made your stomach flip with excitement: the meet and greet. You were about to come face-to-face with Eminem himself.

As the line slowly moved forward, Sophie nudged you with her elbow. “You ready for this? You’ve been talking about this moment for years.”

You smirked, adjusting your hair and brushing imaginary lint off your outfit. “Ready? I was *born* ready.”

Mia snorted. “Just don’t pass out or make it awkward. This isn’t the time for you to forget how to speak.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across your face. “If anything, he’s going to be the one speechless.”

Sophie laughed. “That’s the spirit! But seriously, just play it cool.”

The line grew shorter until it was almost your turn. You could see him up close now, sitting at a small table with a marker in his hand, casually signing posters and albums. His presence was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but notice how sharp he looked—his hoodie pulled low over his eyes, the faint stubble on his jawline catching the light. He was even more stunning in person than you’d imagined, and you were already imagining how you were going to make this moment memorable.

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped forward, confidence radiating off you. The second his eyes met yours, it felt like the air shifted. He paused for a fraction of a second, his gaze lingering as he took you in from head to toe. A slow, almost mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “How’s it going?”

“Better now,” you replied without missing a beat, your voice steady and flirtatious. You could feel Sophie and Mia watching from the sidelines, but you were too focused on him to care. “The concert was insane. You killed it out there.”

“Appreciate that,” he said, leaning back slightly in his chair, his eyes still locked on yours. “You were in the front, right? I thought I saw you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your composure, giving him a teasing smirk. “You noticed me? I must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Oh, you did,” he replied, his smile widening. There was something in his tone—something playful, maybe even a little cocky—that sent a thrill down your spine. “Hard not to notice someone like you.”

You tilted your head, deciding to lean into the moment. “Is that so? Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” he said simply, his gaze steady. “What’s your name?”

You told him, and he repeated it, rolling it off his tongue in a way that made it sound almost seductive. “Nice name. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” you said, leaning forward slightly, letting your confidence shine through. “So, how many autographs have you signed tonight?”

He chuckled, glancing at the pile of signed posters beside him. “Too many to count. But yours might be my favorite.”

“Oh, really? And why’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, daring him to keep going.

He smirked, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s just say you’ve got a vibe that stands out.”

Before you could respond, Sophie cleared her throat loudly from behind you, clearly enjoying the show but also reminding you that the line was still moving. You shot her a quick look before turning back to him.

“Alright, how about that autograph?” you said, pulling out the VIP pass hanging around your neck.

He reached for it, but then paused, his eyes flicking to your chest. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

Your brow arched. “Oh? What’s that?”

Instead of answering right away, he stood up, his marker still in hand. The height difference was noticeable now, and he used it to his advantage, looking down at you with a playful smirk. “Turn around,” he said.

You laughed. “Excuse me?”

“Trust me,” he said, his tone light but challenging. “You’ll thank me later.”

Intrigued, you turned slightly, giving him a curious look over your shoulder. To your surprise, he leaned in closer—not toward your pass, but toward the upper part of your chest. He hesitated for just a second, meeting your eyes again as if to ask for permission. You nodded, your pulse racing with anticipation.

He pressed the marker to your skin, just above your neckline, and began to write. You could feel the slight pressure as he moved the pen, and you couldn’t help but smile. When he finished, he leaned back, capping the marker with a flourish.

“There,” he said, grinning. “Now you’ve got an autograph no one else does.”

You glanced down and saw his signature scrawled boldly across your chest. Your laugh was loud and genuine. “You really just signed me? Bold move, Marshall.”

He chuckled. “You said you wanted something memorable, right?”

“Fair enough,” you replied, meeting his gaze again. “And here I thought you couldn’t surprise me.”

“Stick around, and I might surprise you even more,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly, enough to make the words linger in the air.

Your friends were practically bursting with silent laughter and excitement behind you, but you didn’t look back. You held his gaze, your own smile matching his energy. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Do that,” he said smoothly, handing you the marker. “Just don’t go washing that off anytime soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, tucking the marker into your bag. “I might just frame this moment instead.”

“Smart move,” he replied, giving you a small nod before leaning back in his chair, his attention already shifting to the next fan. But as you turned to leave, you could feel his eyes on you one last time, lingering like a spark that refused to burn out.

When you rejoined Sophie and Mia, they erupted into laughter and squeals, practically shaking you by the shoulders.

“Did that just happen?!” Sophie shouted.

“Oh, it happened,” you said, your grin widening as you looked down at his autograph on your chest. “And trust me, I’m not forgetting it anytime soon.”

As you and your friends were walking toward the exit, still buzzing from the meet-and-greet, a tall, stern-looking security guard stepped in front of you, stopping the group in their tracks.

“Excuse me,” he said, glancing down at a small earpiece before locking eyes with you. “Mr. Mathers would like to see you backstage in his dressing room.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Sophie and Mia both gasped in unison.

“Wait, what?” Sophie blurted out, her eyes darting between you and the guard. “He wants *her* backstage?”

The security guard nodded. “Just her.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped, and Mia let out a low whistle. “Well, damn,” Mia said, crossing her arms with a grin. “Guess someone made quite the impression.”

Sophie pouted dramatically but then smiled, nudging you. “Okay, fine, go live the dream. But you better not leave out *any* details when you tell us later.”

You laughed nervously, feeling their excitement and your own nerves collide. “I’ll try to remember everything,” you promised.

Mia gave you a sly smirk. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

“Which is basically nothing,” Sophie added with a wink.

You shook your head at their antics before following the security guard through a series of hallways. The noise from the concert faded behind you as you walked deeper into the backstage area. The air felt heavier, the excitement bubbling in your chest almost unbearable.

When the guard finally stopped in front of a door, he knocked once before stepping aside and motioning for you to enter.

“You can go in,” he said, his expression unreadable.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Eminem was seated on a leather couch, leaning back with one arm draped casually over the armrest. He had changed out of his stage outfit and into a plain black T-shirt and sweatpants, but he still looked effortlessly cool. His cap was turned backward now, revealing more of his face, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto you the moment you walked in.

He smirked, sitting up slightly. “So,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “you really came back here, huh?”

You felt your pulse quicken as you stepped further into the room, closing the door softly behind you. Eminem’s piercing blue eyes stayed fixed on you, the playful smirk tugging at his lips making your stomach flutter. You hesitated for a moment before moving to sit on the couch beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his presence but still giving him space.

“So,” he said, his voice low and casual as he leaned back again, studying you, “how does it feel being the only one I asked back here?”

You grinned, matching his energy. “Honestly? It feels pretty damn good. I wasn’t expecting it, though. You kind of surprised me.”

He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, well, you caught my attention. I don’t do this kind of thing often.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head, leaning slightly toward him. “What kind of thing?”

“This,” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, “calling someone back here after a show. It’s not really my style.”

“Well,” you said with a playful smile, “guess I should feel special, then.”

“Maybe you should,” he replied, his voice dipping lower as his smirk grew. “So, tell me about yourself. How old are you?”

Your heart skipped at the question, but you answered confidently. “I’m 23.”

At that, his smirk faded slightly, and he straightened up, his demeanor shifting. “23?” he repeated, his tone cautious. “Damn. That’s young.”

You frowned slightly, catching the hesitation in his voice. “Young? I’m an adult. What, you were expecting me to be, like, 30 or something?”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m 52. That’s a big gap. I’ve got kids not too far from your age. It’d feel… weird.”

You rolled your eyes but kept your tone light. “Okay, first of all, 23 is not a kid. I’m legal in every way that matters. And second, age is just a number. You’re not exactly acting 52 right now, anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your boldness. “Oh yeah? And how am I acting?”

“Like a guy who invited me back here because he couldn’t stop staring at me,” you shot back with a grin.

His smirk returned, but he shook his head, trying to stay serious. “I mean it, though. You’re gorgeous, and I like your energy, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t date younger women—it’s not my thing.”

You leaned forward, your confidence growing as you saw the way his eyes flickered to your lips before darting back to your eyes. “I don’t think you invited me back here just to tell me what your type isn’t. If I wasn’t your type, I wouldn’t be sitting on this couch right now.”

He let out a low laugh, running a hand over his face. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m honest,” you countered, tilting your head. “And you don’t strike me as someone who wastes time on things they’re not interested in. So, what’s the real issue? You worried about what people might say?”

He hesitated, his expression softening. “It’s not about other people. I’ve been through enough to know I don’t care about that. It’s just… I don’t want to mess with someone who’s still figuring life out. You’ve got your whole future ahead of you.”

You placed your hand lightly on his arm, your tone softening but still firm. “I’m not some kid who doesn’t know what they want. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I know exactly what I want.”

He glanced at your hand, then back at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to gauge how serious you were. “You’re really not gonna let this go, huh?”

“Not a chance,” you said, your voice dropping just enough to make it clear you weren’t backing down. “You can keep trying to convince yourself this is a bad idea, but we both know there’s something here. You felt it the moment you saw me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his eyes locked on yours. The air between you felt thick, charged with tension. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered, though there was no mistaking the hint of a smile on his lips.

You grinned, leaning back slightly but keeping your hand on his arm. “Maybe. But you like trouble, don’t you?”

He laughed, a low, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, giving him a cheeky smile.

He studied you for another moment, then leaned back against the couch, his expression shifting to something more relaxed. “Alright, you win. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” you teased, leaning closer. “That you’re going to fall for me?”

He shook his head, laughing again. “You’re too much.”

“Too much for you to handle?”

“We’ll see,” he said, his tone laced with challenge, his smirk making your stomach flip.

The conversation lingered after that, but you knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t hesitating anymore.

The tension between you both had built to an almost unbearable level, and it didn’t take much more for him to close the distance between you. Eminem’s eyes flickered to your lips, and before you could even process the thought, he was leaning in, his hand cupping your jaw, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the heat of his body, the way his lips pressed firmly against yours. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if he was testing the waters. But soon, it deepened, becoming more urgent, his hands slipping into your hair, pulling you closer.

Your body responded instinctively, hands moving to the back of his neck, tugging him down harder into the kiss. He groaned softly, the sound sending a thrill through you. His tongue gently brushed against your lips, and you parted them instinctively, letting him in. You both fell into it completely, the kiss growing more passionate by the second, your bodies pressing closer as you tangled together on the couch.

His hands started to roam, first tracing the curve of your back before sliding lower, his fingertips grazing the waistband of your pants. You could feel his hands all over you, his touch firm but careful, like he was savoring every inch of you. You gasped into the kiss as his hand slid up your thigh, then cupped your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Mmm…” you moaned, not breaking the kiss, feeling a heat that only intensified with every touch.

He pulled away from your lips for a second, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re fucking perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough. He kissed your neck, his lips hot against your skin as his hands moved to explore more freely. His fingers brushed the edge of your shirt, lifting it slightly before moving beneath it, his touch electric against your bare skin.

“Marshall,” you breathed, feeling your chest tighten with anticipation.

He paused, looking down at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment. “You sure about this? Because I don’t do things like this casually.” His voice was low, rough, his breath still heavy from the intensity of the kiss.

“I’m sure,” you said, your voice unwavering. You met his gaze with determination. “I’m not some random girl, Marshall. I know what I want, and I want this.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips were back on yours instantly, this time with even more force. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as his other hand continued to roam, caressing the side of your breast before slipping down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin. You moaned against his mouth, your own hands slipping underneath his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his chest. The kiss was intoxicating, wild, and you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

But then, as the heat between you both grew more intense, Eminem pulled away again, though this time only to catch his breath. He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling with exertion. “Damn, girl,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smiled, your lips swollen from the kisses. “If I’m going to go down, I think this is a good way to do it.”

He chuckled, though there was a hint of something more serious in his eyes. He leaned back, running a hand through his hair before pulling you closer again, guiding your head to rest on his lap. His hand gently ran through your hair, fingers massaging your scalp as you settled in, the warmth of his body surrounding you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the peace of the moment wash over you. The quiet intimacy of just being there with him, the soft hum of his presence, was soothing in a way you didn’t expect. You could still feel the heat from earlier, but now, with your head on his lap, the tension was replaced with a peaceful calmness.

“You’re a real firecracker,” he murmured softly, his fingers tracing along the edge of your ear as he looked down at you.

You smiled up at him, your face inches from his. “I think you like it.”

He laughed quietly, the sound making your heart flutter. “You got me there.”

You both stayed like that for a while, the room quiet except for the occasional rustle of his clothes as he shifted, his fingers still tracing the contours of your face, your hair. It was almost like the chaos of everything had disappeared for a brief moment, replaced with the softness of the moment you were sharing.

After a while, he sat up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, I can’t just leave you hanging like this,” he said, a smirk on his face as he unlocked his phone.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him with curiosity. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure I’m not just some random guy who you forget about after tonight,” he said, glancing up at you before typing something into his phone. “I’m putting my number in your phone.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning up slightly. “You really think I’d forget you?”

He met your gaze, his eyes soft but serious. “I just want to make sure you don’t. I’m not here for just a one-night thing.”

You felt a warmth in your chest at his words, something you weren’t expecting. “Well, good,” you said, sitting up slightly, “because I’m definitely not here for that either.”

He finished typing, then handed you the phone, his fingers brushing yours as he did. You took it and quickly saved the number, your heart racing as you realized just how real this all felt. When you handed the phone back to him, he gave you a soft smile before leaning down and kissing your cheek gently.

“Take care of yourself, alright?” he whispered against your skin. “I’ll be in touch.”

You smiled up at him, feeling something between you both that you couldn’t quite put into words. “I’ll be waiting.”

Just as you were about to get up, the door opened, and a couple of security guards stepped inside, standing just a few feet away. One of them motioned toward the door.

“Time to go,” he said, his voice firm but polite.

Eminem looked at you one last time, his smile soft but sincere. “Catch you later.”

You nodded, standing up slowly, your legs a little unsteady from everything that had just happened. You gave him one last smile, your chest still racing, before walking toward the door. The security guards escorted you out, and as you stepped into the hallway, you couldn’t help but glance back at the room. You could still feel the warmth of his touch, his kiss lingering on your skin.

Your mind was racing with thoughts, but one thing was for sure: this night was far from over.

As you stepped out into the hallway, your heart still pounding from everything that had just happened, you were met with the eager faces of your friends. They were gathered by the door, their eyes wide as they looked you up and down, practically bouncing with excitement.

“So? What happened?” Sophie asked immediately, her voice full of anticipation. “How was it? Did you get to talk to him? Was he as hot in person?”

Mia joined in, practically jumping on the spot. “Wait, did you actually get to *hang out* with him? Like, for real?”

You grinned, the excitement still bubbling inside you. “Oh my God, you won’t believe it,” you said, practically bouncing on your heels. “We talked, we kissed, and... he totally gave me his number.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. “No way! He *kissed* you?!”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice almost giddy with the memory. “We made out for a while, then he had me rest my head on his lap while he... just, you know, talked. And then, he asked for my number, and I—"

“No way!” Mia interrupted, eyes wide with disbelief. “This is real, isn’t it? Are you seriously telling me Eminem is like... your boyfriend now?”

You paused for a second, feeling a wave of disbelief hit you. “I don’t know, but I think he might be. I mean, I’m definitely into him, and... I think he’s into me.”

Sophie let out a squeal, clapping her hands together. “This is insane! You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Mia grinned, shaking her head. “Alright, so... Wingstop?”

You laughed, still processing everything that had just happened. “Yeah, Wingstop sounds perfect.”

[randomsufff]

HEHAHBFKI More South Park doodles I think I’m going insane.

Actually this is kind of the product of me being liking South Park way back in high school but was too embarrassed to draw them when I was bored in class and now it’s all kinda flooding back 💀

Read below if you want to know more about my New Kid and my thoughts behind some of the doodles cause this turned out longer then I though 💀

Anyways- introducing my New Kid. No name cause I literally have no idea. Whatever the cannon name is ig- though I’d think it’d be funny if she was referred to New Kid by literally everyone like in game. I like the idea that a lot of people have with their New Kids that they liked the makeover section with the girls during the Stick of Truth a little too much. I also like it cause… uh… I didn’t play Stick of Truth. (The combat system is not my cup of tea) So it’s not until the start of TFBW does she know shes really a girl.

To give context to the top right drawing- I couldn’t remember the dialogue Wendy says in the alleyway if you say you’re a trans girl- but I do know what she says if your a cis girl (I always knew you were a girl) cause I did a second play through as a cis girl. And I don’t know if there’s supposed to be a huge time jump between the end of Stick of Truth and TFBW but I think it would be funny if it was just the next day- so combine these two fact to get “Wendy always clocked New Kid as a girl but NK just found out yesterday 💀”

Anyways- she’s such a cutie, I love her and her cool superhero outfit I gave her. Outside of the game- I’d like to think of her basically exactly how she acts in game. Mostly non-verbal, with the occasional zingy one liner, and just kinda goes along with the crazy shit the happens in South Park un phased. Like if she was in a episode- the plot would happen and she would be on screen, but wouldn’t say anything, and anytime another character would address her, they’d respond however as if she spoke lmao. Aroace, just like me, so she’s just friends with everyone (except Cartman) and vibes with everyone.

The mini Style comic I though of cause 1) I wondered if Kyle had the same elf ears as the other elfs did in game (again, never played and it’s been a while since I saw gameplay so whoops if it’s confirmed or whatever) and 2) I thought it would be funny if Stan was caught lacking and tried to /rp his way out of it (I wanted to add an extra bit where Kyle would be like “Oh, are our characters gay for each other??? (ARE YOU /SRS OR /J STAN)” and Stan would have to just “yes, and” his way out.)

The last three images were kinda of a stream of consciousness put on paper and made neat lol. I really like showing that all the costumes the kids wear are homemade and stuff- either stuff taken from their parents or visibly taped together etc- cause I think it’s charming. Anyways- I though Kyle’s little robe could be like one of his parents bath robe- and it would be a little too long for him to run without eating shit so he’d have to hike it up like a skirt/dress. Which lead to me thinking that Cartman would say some shit about that and how Kyle, who has a literal Golf Club, would smack his ass up. Which then lead to me thinking about how since Kyle’s the Elf King and Stan’s basically his right hand how he might lift it up wedding dress style if needed (/RP GUYS, RIGHT?RIGHT???) and how Cartman would react, which lead to that one JoJo meme cause thats literally how they’d retaliate.

Always- I’ll probably have at least one more post about South Park I swear. There was a period of time before I stopped watching (I gotta pick it up again) where I would doodle a bit of whatever was happening in the episode, each episode. Crazy I know, but not only did it improve my drawing skills but it helped me remember what actually happened in episodes cause I have shit memory and definitely don’t remember some of the episodes I watched. So I might redraw some of those- see if anyone can tell what episode they’re from.

[haleyboook]

Christmas cheer

When a relationship not known by Chris’ family is suddenly front and center when he insists on her coming to his family Christmas festivities. Just how insane can she expect it to be? And how bad will it effect her relationship?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“I just need my bathing suit and I’ll have all my clothes ready to be packed.” I tell him as I hold the laundry basket in my arms

He nods as he remains half out of it staring at me

“Chris?”

“Mmhm?”

“What’s on your mind?”

He sighs as he sits up saying “I’m not liking the idea of not being together on Christmas. The best holiday.”

I drop the laundry basket and walk over to him, I sit on the armrest of the chair as he pulls me towards him

His lips press to my shoulder as he says “The Bahamas are so lame right now. Change your flight. Let’s go there for New Years. Boston is so beautiful right now.”

Sighing I say “My whole family is there, and they would love to meet you. You know that. I talk about you all the time and my mom already loves you. Why don’t you come with me? And then we can celebrate New Years with your family?”

Slowly he considers giving in as my eyes practically melt him and my lips press to his as I smile widely

The corners of his lips curve upwards in response to me and he groans saying “My mom and sisters would kill me if I missed Christmas. My nieces and nephews are expecting me there.”

Nodding I sigh saying “So basically we can’t spend the holiday together. And we’re back to square one.”

He smiles to me and says “Yeah. I guess so.”

But that look on his face for a split second was awfully mischievous and I know he’s up to something.

He pushes my hair out of my face and kisses my collarbones as we draw closer to each other

“It’s snowing in Boston. Have you ever been to Boston when it’s snowing?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Winter is my second favorite season there. A white Christmas is my favorite. And my family goes all nine yards.”

“Oh really? What do they do?”

He smiles and says “Well my whole big family pile into my childhood home and we spend the whole week together. My mom has us baking and cooking all week and we go see a Christmas play on Christmas Eve. And we have a Christmas Eve party after. And Christmas Day is the best, seeing my niece and nephews excitement over the gifts is the best. My mom makes us spiked hot chocolate and we have this massive dinner. It’s literally heaven.”

The pause sits for awhile as I think on my family, my parents have my sisters and all their friends in the Bahamas with them currently

I paid for the vacation, called it an early Christmas gift.

But… Boston doesn’t sound too bad

“If.. I can change my flight, I’m in.”

His eyes widen suddenly as he looks to me surprised saying “You’re serious?”

I scoff saying “Was that not a real offer?”

“No! No it was real. I’ll.. I’ll call my mom telling her you’re coming along.”

I nod and stare at the laundry across the room. I sigh saying “im not going to need that bathing suit am I?”

He laughs whole heartedly and I grumble saying “You owe me time at the beach. I need ocean and sun time.”

“Promise. New Years with your family in the Bahamas. We can stay a week longer than your family. Just us.”

I sigh into him as I grow relaxed, nodding saying “That sounds perfect. Just what I need after the shit-show movie I just wrapped.”

“He was a terrible director.”

“He made me pull my hair out. I need to strictly rely on Greta and Sofia for work. They’re the only tolerable directors I’ve worked with. Besides obviously the marvel projects.”

He nods saying “Making everyone work on a holiday is crazy.”

“Well you saw how well that worked out for him.”

Chris laughs saying “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie crew so happy that an actress went full diva for them.”

“They all deserved to be with their families, regardless if they celebrated the holiday or not.”

“Trust me, I know they were thankful.”

I sigh saying “Yeah…. Now tell me what I need to pack for Boston.”

“You need to start with at least 3-4 coats or jackets.”

I make a winced face and say “You’re kidding.”

“That doesn’t include winter coats. Do you have a winter—”

He pauses as he looks to me as I produce a pinched expression and shrug saying “I don’t own anything like that.”

“We’ve got a lot of work to do then.”

The flight was simple enough, I overpacked and had to check my bag. Chris didn’t have to, he had a small enough bag for it to be a carry on

I realized how big of a mistake it was to check my bag the minute I started looking through the carousels for my suitcase

Only to my surprise it never came around. Chris felt terrible as the flight attendant informed me that my suitcase, along with half the passengers were left to fly out on the next plane

I blinked in response to her, feeling anger rise within me “what do you mean you left my suitcase?”

“It will be delivered here in a few hours. We can ship it to the address you—”

“I just want my things! Why couldn’t you fit my suitcase on the plane?”

“There are certain rules and regulations we need to follow, the flight was sold out and we couldn’t exceed a certain weight—”

“Everything I need is in my suitcase! It’s 25 degrees out! I need my things!”

Chris wraps his arm around me attempting to calm me down saying “Honey… honey it’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

I scoff saying “Don’t give me that. You carried your suitcase on. You have everything you could possibly need. I have nothing. My scripts were in there. I needed to run those lines.”

He sighs and attempts to comfort me as he looks to the lady saying “How soon will it be shipped?”

“The second it’s in our custody. You should get it by tomorrow.”

“That’s not so bad, you’ll have all your things by tomorrow. In the meantime we’ll figure something out.”

The Bahamas are sounding a lot better now

“Yeah. Okay..” I say unconvinced and on edge

Chris had called his mom a day ago telling her he was bringing his girlfriend and she was surprised to find out so late in advance

Pretty frustrated this is one of the few times she’d even heard about me.

But before I wasn’t even his girlfriend, we were just going on a few dates. He thought it was easier to just say that to his mother instead

We were both so busy, there was no time to share with anyone else but each other

And we used every single minute we could find with the other

He’d fly to me and leave in the morning. Or I’d fly in at 9am and have to leave at 12am.

He knows he should have mentioned his girlfriend earlier, to not only his mother but probably his sisters and practically anyone else in his family

I ask as he drives our rental car towards the house “Scott’s there already?”

He’s the one person I really knew from his family, considering how often he visited

“Yeah. He just got to the house this morning.”

I swallow hard saying “And your mom, Lisa knows I’m coming to Christmas?”

“She knows, relax y/n. There’s nothing to worry about. My mom will love you and we’ll have a great time.”

“So your older is Carly, and Shanna is your younger sister. Then there’s your dad and he’s a dentist. And then there’s miles and—”

“Clearly you’ve done your research.”

I sigh as I run my hands down my face saying “I wouldn’t even need to. You love your family, you talk about them constantly. I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve met them. I could probably recite their birthdays at this point… oh my god. Don’t let me say that to them. I’m losing my mind. I’m so nervous, were you this nervous to meet my mom?”

He laughs as I scramble my sentences together quickly, talking way too fast

“Your mother gave me no warning, I met her in my boxers while I was getting the paper. I had no time to be nervous.”

I smile and look to him saying “She thought you were handsome immediately.”

He shakes his head saying with a chuckle “No, her first comment was asking why I was so pale.”

Laughing I shake my head saying “I can’t believe she said that.”

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He livens up my mood just switching the topic, I feel better already. He squeezes my hand saying “Just don’t overthink this and you’ll do great. Promise.”

And that’s when we turned down a street where I saw a suburban neighborhood, it was different than I was used to

There was an inflatable Santa on the large patch of grass in the front yard and lights thrown up onto the gutters, brightly colored

The driveway was full and it made me uneasy. Chris put the car in park and once he turned off the engine he looked to me “you ready to go in?”

“The gifts were in my suitcase, Chris. I have nothing for them—”

“You have your bright smile. That’s enough, we can go shopping in the morning or wait for your suitcase. All that matters is the gifts under the tree by Christmas.”

A sigh releases my lips as I look to the sprawl of inflatables across the front yard that I hadn’t noticed earlier

Some that are so clearly Boston suburbia that it’s odd to me

“Oh. That’s Jim. Moms had that inflatable for decades. It’s older than all the grandkids combined.”

“What is… it supposed to be?”

“It used to be an 8foot tall snowman, one of the first to be released. But it’s face wore off so is kids drew a new one on with sharpie and… yeah that was the result.”

Scott slowly sneaks around the car, and slams his palms into the glass of my car door

I scream as I jerk my head towards him and heave heavy breaths as my screaming stops

Chris laughs loudly and boisterous as I nearly kick the door open. It hitting Scott as I climb out, pushing his shoulder as his laugher only annoys me

“You’re an asshole!”

He and Chris just think my reaction is the funniest thing possible

“Did you hit your head when you jumped that high?”

He tumbles to the ground as he falls in the snow and practically cries with laughter

I huff in annoyance saying “Why would you do that?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Scott struggles to say as he gasps for air as his laughter slows

I look to Scott saying “We have a whole competition going, scaring each other. We do this basically every time everyone’s home.”

Chris smiles as he says “She has an out, it’s her first Christmas with us. She is free of the jump scares.”

“No way! She needs to experience the evans family Christmas in every way.”

Chris gives Scott a look and I walk away saying “I’m freezing. Can we please go inside.”

Scott nods saying “that sounds like a great idea.”

Chris nods as he lifts his suitcase through the snow and pulls his jacket off as he drapes it over my shoulders

I look to him thankfully as I tighten it around me. I slow to a stop as I wait for one of the two brothers to lead the way

Chris steps in front of me as he says “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just cold—” but I’m cut off by Scott running towards us and throwing a snowball into the back of Chris’ head

Scott laughs as I feel the corners of my smile turning upwards quickly as I laugh quietly as Chris huffs out a breath of annoyance

“oh… little brother you so shouldn’t have started this.”

“Chris.” I plead as his hand digs into the snow

“Just let me reach this little punk a lesson.”

And they’re already at it with each other. I stand there as Chris creates a snow ball throwing it towards his brother as Scott ducks out of the shot

My sisters and I were never like this. They were 12-15 years older than me. By the time I was 5-6 years old they were out of the house or in college. I was basically an only child with occasional visits from my sisters

But Bree moved to England for a job and Elise lives across the US. Hawaii, with her husband. Her husband is stationed in the navy there

I wince as both Scott and Chris tumble roughly into the snow but I smile because it’s hilarious

“They do this often.”

My shoulders jump at the voice, I thought I was alone out here

I look to the woman and say “And I’m sure it’s entertaining every time.” My smile shines towards her and she breathes out a laugh saying “Yeah. Most of the time. I’m Shanna. You must be y/n, his girlfriend. Right?”

Nodding I say “yes, that is me. I’m sorry to intrude on your Christmas, he insisted I have a Boston Christmas.”

“You don’t have family around here?”

I pause and say “They’re in the Bahamas for Christmas.”

“And you picked this over that?” She laughs as I shake my head saying “I couldn’t leave him. We try to spend any second we can together. I’m sorry, are you Carly or Shanna? Chris talks about his sisters so much but I can’t place your name.”

She smiles saying “Shanna. His younger sister.”

“Oh okay. Thank you.

She nods saying “How’d the two of you meet?”

“Work. Of course. There’s not really anywhere else I could’ve meet someone.”

“You’re an actor too?”

I nod and say “Yeah.”

“Are you cold? We could go in while they sort this whole thing out?”

I look towards Chris as he has Scott pinned down with knee pressed against his back.

Scott’s face doesn’t leave the patch of snow as Chris tells him to tap out

I look to their sister saying “Is this normal?”

Shanna smiles saying “Yes. When they’re around each other they get like this. They’re brothers that’s for sure haha.”

I bite at my lip saying “I really am freezing. We could go in.. I’m just anxious.”

“Why don’t you head in while I get these idiots into the house?”

She steps away before I can argue the offer

I swallow hard and walk towards the house, I so don’t want to go in alone

Scott is pulled up from the snow and pushes his brother as he looks to me as Chris brushes off the snow on his clothes

“Babe, you can head in. You look like you’re about to freeze.”

I nod to Chris and ask “Just walk in?”

“My ma doesn’t care, she has everyone just walk right in.”

I stare at the door as I push it open and enter the house. Shutting it behind me to keep all the warmth in the house

I’m first hit with voices and I slow to a stop as I attempt not to intrude

But then I quickly realize they’re talking about me

“No, this is really the first time he’s ever brought her up. He told me all about her a day ago and that she was coming for Christmas.”

“Shanna is laying into her for answers and to find out what kind of person she is. God I hope she’s not some arrogant brat.”

My eyes widen suddenly as my arms drop to my sides quickly

“God knows Chris has poor taste in women. Should be interesting to meet her. From what he’s told me she’s a bit high maintenance.”

My eyebrows shoot up at that and I huff in annoyance

“I can only hope she isn’t some privileged obnoxious child. Chris didn’t give me much, only that they didn’t want to be apart. It sounds like they’re pretty serious.”

“How close could they be if he kept her hidden from us? She’s got to be the reason he skipped literally everything for thanksgiving but the dinner. He literally rolled in here at 3 and left by 8.”

The pause in conversation leaves me frozen in the entry way as I feel like I just stepped into something I shouldn’t hear

“You think he’s fallen for a girl who will keep him from us for holidays? That’s often what happens when a son marries someone.”

“You think they’re getting married?! He hardly knows the girl. God bless her but Chris could never commit to something like that. You know the cycle, give it a few more months and they’ll have moved on.”

“He said she can be difficult, especially under pressure. Like I said super high maintenance.”

“Probably means controlling.”

Excuse me?

“If this girl is wrong for him I’ll have a conversation with him. He’s my son, he’ll listen to me. She’ll be just another ex girlfriend if we don’t like her—”

I can feel the lump in my throat growing as I reach for the door handle but it opens and I take a step back as Chris steps in

He looks to me confused as I remain hovering by the door like I wanted to bolt, his arms find their way around my sides saying “you alright?”

My shoulders tighten and wind up as my whole body tightens up, I shrug in response as I slip from his grasp

Scott shouts “Ma! Chris and y/n are here!”

Chris huffs in response to his brother

The group of people file towards us as my hands pull at the zipper sides of Chris’ jacket that’s tightly wrapped around my body

Tightening it around me

“Chris!”

He bounds for his mother, and you could tell how much he loves him mom. That’s a strong hug around her. Clearly he missed her

Maybe she was right, I didn’t think I was keeping him from his family

Suddenly I feel super out of place as their whole family hugs and speaks to each other

Slowly I slip into the background of the family as my back presses to the door, everything growing overwhelming

“My sweet boy. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Controlling.

That word wanders around my head as I feel the weight of it

High maintenance

How could she have all these opinions of me before even meeting me?

Scott pulls away from his older sister saying “y/n, meet my sister Carly… y/n?” He looks behind him not finding me

I’m practically melting through the door as Chris suddenly pulls away from the conversation him and his mother are having

“honey?”

The people in front of me, serving as I wall suddenly break into two groups and the whole Evans family turns towards me

Chris looks to me with a widening smile and walks forward, grabbing my hand and saying “Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/n. I’ll introduce you to each person in a minute. Firstly, this is my ma.”

The woman looks to me and I feel the nauseous feeling grow as I stare at her nervously

She takes a step towards me as Chris’ warm hand leaves my back

She smiles and says “I’m Lisa. It’s so great to meet you.”

My grin slips as she pulls me into a hug and I grow frustrated as she says “Chris just adores you.”

I swear there’s sarcasm coming off her words

“Love, mom. I love her.” Chris confirms as his smile falls from his lips and I’m released. I’m basically introduced around and the minute I’m free from introductions I find Scott

He’s with Carly but I grab his wrist tightly and give him the crazy eyes. He excused himself from his sister as I pull him out front

“I have to get out of here.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

My hands pull down my face as I frown and say “Your mother doesn’t know I heard what she and Carly were saying in the kitchen.”

“What we’re they saying in the kitchen?” He leans forward, practically begging for the information

“Am I controlling?”

“What? Why would you…. Oh.” He pauses as he looks inside the glass panels for a second saying “she doesn’t know you. Don’t take what she said to heart. She probably read a bad article about you.”

I shake my head as I sit down on the front steps and he follows shortly after “They lost my suitcase. I have nothing. I’m feeling insecure enough already. And I know Chris is loving every minute of this but I’m just… overwhelmed and annoyed.”

Scott nods as he rubs my shoulder, and I continue saying “He never told his mom or anyone about me. They don’t know me. Would he have ever told them about me? He basically worships your mom. But I’m not important enough to be a topic?”

“I’m sure he has good reason, bee.”

I huff in response and cover my face saying “This is going to be a long week. You have to promise me you won’t leave my side. If Chris isn’t glued to my side you have to be. Please.”

His eyes widen and he says “That’s a big job.”

I narrow my eyes to him saying “Scott.”

He smiles lightly saying “Fine deal.”

“This is going to be a long week.” We both say in sync

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Oh hi! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it! I wanted to create a Christmas story, this is only going to be a few parts, I think (don’t know yet!)

I really enjoyed writing this part, I’m currently working on a part two! I hope you all enjoy this!

Next part>>

Make sure you comment to be added to the taglist!

More will be published soon! Promise!

Make sure you interact with my stories please!

[bluedolup]

Iwaizumi x Reader: That's Not Your Problem

“WAIT WHAT?!”, you exclaimed into your phone as you talked to your friend. You were heading to school as you were hand in hand with your boyfriend, Iwaiuzmi, and on the phone with one of your friends. Jailani was your best friend since junior high, you two informed each other on everything that you heard especially when you two went to two different schools. You went to Seijoh while she went to Karasuno, and the drama between the two schools was steaming hot. 

Now you would usually just be filled in on drama from Karasuno but this time, you were getting info that came from another school. “Is she insane? Cause I know for a fact that if she tried that she would be hospitalized” you said. Iwa would be with you most of the time these conversations happen and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t eavesdropping sometimes. 

“Put me on a talk show with her, I will be destroying her statement. But me and Haji are at the school, I’ll text you at lunch” you hung up and let out a stressed out high. “Lord give me strength, I swear some people aren’t supposed to be managers” you said to yourself. “What happened?” Iwa asked “we need to find the other three cause it’s a volleyball issue and I need all four of you to hear this” you said. 

“Ah shit” Iwa muttered. 

The two of you traveled to your homeroom where you found Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsu already there. You basically dragged Iwa towards them and sat at your desk, “woah, you got exciting news? You damn near flew over here” Mattsu said “I news, period. You guys know Jailani right?” you asked “you’re friend who decided to go with the enemy?” Oikawa asked “watch it, it’s too early for your one sided rivalry. She called me this morning with some interesting info from another school” you said.

The postures and attentions of the three boys instantly changed. “What school was it?” Maki asked “I think it was Johegey?” you said “you mean Johzenji?” Iwa asked “yes!” you said “what the fuck is a Johzenji?” Oikawa asked “not important, Jailani told me that their manager has this belief that all managers should break up fights between the players” you said. The four boys gave you confused and shocked looks, “no fucking way” Iwa said “yes fucking way, she said that as managers we should be able to control our players and help them figure out their anger problems because they have SO MUCH STRESS on their shoulders” you said. 

“Oh bullshit” Mattsu said “how much stress do you have to start boxing with people?” Maki asked “not enough, I mean I couldn’t think of anyone here who would do something like that, but if something like that were to happen no one better look at me” you said. “I’m curious, do you think you would be able to handle us during a fight?” Oikawa asked. 

Both you and Hajime looked at him as if he grew a second head. “Don’t piss me off Shittykawa” Iwa said “let me explain it to you as best I can, you guys train your arms, speed, core, and legs everyday for three years and even more if you started in like junior high. You guys range from the heights of 5 '10 to 6' 1 and your weight ranges around 150 to 160 pounds” you explained. “Damn, I’m kind of scared on how accurate she’s being” Maki said “I’m 5 '2, 170 pounds, I’m planning to paint and draw for a living so I’m sitting down for the majority of my life. I’m getting my shit rocked!” you said. 

Maki and Mattsu snorted, “Oikawa I have no idea why you even asked that question, it was so obvious” Maki said “she never got into that situation before too, the day you get into that kind of situation you call me and I’ll handle it” Iwa said. You sighed, “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said smiling up at him.

Their timing couldn’t be any better.

Today was the day that Kyotani came back from suspension. Oikawa had told you the minute you got to the gym and you planned on introducing yourself. You didn’t really know him, but the guys had told you he’s a character. You don’t know what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t him barging in with an attitude. “Um, hello?” you asked, he gave you a nasty look as you approached him “um…I’m (y/n), I’m the manager. You’re Kyotani right?” you asked “yeah, and?” he asked. “I just wanted to introduce myself, the dressing rooms are through there and you can get changed for practice” you said. “I know where the damn dressing rooms are” he said “ok? You don’t have to be rude about it” you said. He rolled his eyes, “go cry about it sugar cube, just stay out of my way or you’ll get a volleyball to the head” he said.

“Kentaro!” Yahaba yelled at him from behind me causing us both to look at him “get back here and apologize” he said. The look on this guy's face was terrifying as he was getting called out, “why should I?” Kyotani asked “she’s our manager, you treat her with respect and nothing more. Get back over here and apologize” he said. He stood there for a moment, before a grin spread on his face and he approached Yahaba pushing me aside. 

“Or what? Whatcha gonna do Shigeru~” he said in a taunting tone “don’t fucking start” Yahaba said “nah, if you want to start something we can start something” he said “I’m not starting something, you treat your seniors with respect and apparently you aren’t able to do that” Yahaba said. You backed up a bit and reached for your phone, you had this sinking feeling that something was about to go down. You texted the person who volunteered to deal with something like this, as you sent the message you heard a loud thud. You quickly turned and saw Kyotani on the ground with Yahaba towering over him. 

It only took a second for Kyotani to lunge at him, you yelled and your legs froze. You leaned against a wall and watched in horror as the two boys threw punches and threw each other. In your mind it felt like an eternity when in reality, it was only three minutes until Hajime, Kindaichi, and Mattsu bursted in the gym. Kindaichi and Mattsu grabbed both boys as Hajime rushed to you, “Y/N! Hey are you alright? Are you hurt? Y/N, answer me!” he said. You were shaking a bit and your eyes watered a bit, the only thing you could muster up was a nod as you wrapped your arms around him to try and calm down. 

It was only a joke at first, you truly thought that if you were in some kind of situation that you had to resolve a fight between any of the guys that you were able to do so. Three years of being a manager and all you could do was yell and cry as two of the players that you are responsible for start hurting each other screamed cowardly to you. 

You wanted to give up your Seijoh jacket for good, as if you failed. 

Coach let you go home early but instead of going home you went to the art room at the school. It was empty, You took a canvas and put your headphone on as you started painting. It was the only thing that calms you down, that and being with Hajime but he wasn’t here at the mom-

“Hey”, your headphones were lifted as the voice traveled into your ears causing you to yelp. You turned around and saw Hajime, “babe, what are you doing here?” you asked “I had to know if you were ok after that” he said sitting next to you “what about practice?” you asked “they can deal with it, how are you?” he asked. You smiled slightly, “I couldn’t do anything, I felt so powerless” you said “hey, don’t start that. Your job as a manager is to take care of supplies, cleaning, and finances, not to be a ref for stupid fights that aren’t even supposed to happen” he said “I know, but I could’ve done something. I just froze and became mute. If I didn’t message you when I did, they both would’ve gotten seriously hurt” your voice broke a bit. 

You took your role in the club very seriously and even if Kyotani was an ass to you, he was still part of the team which meant that he mattered as much as any other of the guys. 

Hajime took your hand, “you messaging me was the best thing you could’ve done, it wasn’t your place to get involved because if you did, I would be talking to you in a hospital bed, if that was the case I would’ve killed someone” he said. You let out a chuckle, “now we wouldn’t want that, thanks for coming to check on me. I really didn’t want to worry anyone” you said. “You’re my girl, you think I was going to leave you alone?” he asked, pulling my seat closer to him. You smiled and leaned against him, “of course not, I wouldn’t want it any other way” you said.

[musicalmoritz]

Ok ok I want you to think about swap terukane so like clock keeper Teru x exorcist Akane. And also like Akanes the super super popular school president. Yea so like thoughts/headcanons?? (I always cook up the most insane ideas in the middle of the night and I actually remember this one vaguely!)

Let’s talk about the Terukane swap au!! I’ve seen a few people write and draw for this but I’ve never rly read any of the fics or looked too much into it so I’m entirely making this shit up on my own, Ik this is a popular trope so I apologize if I miss any of the sub tropes that are included with it ;-;

It’s hard for me to separate Teru or Kou from exorcism since the Minamotos were a real life clan, but I don’t think I’d go about this in the “Akane is a Minamoto and Teru is an Aoi” way. I suppose for this au it’s most reasonable to say the Minamotos are a regular family and the Aois are the exorcist clan. That provides another fun question tho, are the Akane girls still kannagi?? Since this is strictly a Terukane swap au I’ll assume they are, though if we wanted to take it further we could swap Aoi with Nene or one of the other characters. It’s easier for me to follow strict guidelines tho so I’m gonna keep it at just Terukane being swapped

That alone changes so much of the story tho, it’s very interesting to me. We’ll say the Minamotos are still a strict/traditional family, so there’s still some pressure on Teru and Kou. Just not to the extent that there is in canon. And assuming their mom still died in due to complications from childbirth, their dad would still be absent and Teru and Kou will still have to grow up too soon by raising Tiara. But things would be significantly easier on them since they’d be taking care of the family together. Teru would learn basic life skills like cooking, which would take a load off of Kou. Then since the work would be split, they’d both have more free time on their hands. If one of them wants to hang out with friends, the other can take over cooking and cleaning for the night. Tho that would lead to numerous sibling arguments, since Teru is the oldest he’d probably push Kou around a bit when they’re younger lol. He’d run that house like the military

I want to say Kou is the one the Clock Keepers threaten him with since Teru is so protective of him, but that wouldn’t rly work since they wouldn’t be at school together during Teru’s first year of junior high. As an oldest sibling, Teru is very protective by nature, so they might be able to choose any random student. Once they have him where they want him, they throw in some threats aimed at his siblings to secure their chances of making a contract. So Teru ends up going down the same self-sacrificial route we see in canon, he becomes a Clock Keeper so that no one else has to do it

Without any siblings, Akane is the soul beholder of the family legacy. Self-sacrifice isn’t even an option for him, he’s the only one who can succeed his parents so he must do it. Then there’s Aoi, his childhood best friend. If Akane were an exorcist and they grew up together, Aoi would find out about supernaturals way sooner. Maybe he tells her himself, because he can no longer carry the burden alone. And he knows she’s a kannagi, that something bad could happen to her someday if he doesn’t keep a close eye on her, so he has to watch her like a hawk. In this au there’s not as many secrets between them, so much is at stake so they have to be transparent with each other. Akane’s honesty inspires Aoi to be more honest with him as well. So the obsession between them, platonic or otherwise, is a lot more mutual. They developed sort of a trauma bond at an early age and now they have to look out for each other

Akane’s popularity comes from his natural inclination to help others. He’s such a kind person, even if he can be aggressive. And without him having to constantly chase Aoi, no one thinks he’s a weirdo. It’s a little odd that he’s so protective of his friend, but he’s so damn nice that everyone just shrugs it off as him being sweet. Teru though? Teru is the weirdo

His family is still strict but without the same expectations placed on him, there’s no need for him to try and excel at everything. No one cares if he’s the best student so he can do whatever he wants. And yeah, he’s pretty, but he’s also loud and annoying. He teases people and gets creepily sadistic at times. This ties into my audhd Minamotos headcanon, without the pressure he’s under in canon, Teru feels less of a need to mask. He still does it to some extent due to societal pressure and all but the only opinion he really cares about are those of his siblings, so he’s content to be himself. He makes a few friends this way too, he’s not exactly popular but the people who get him get him. I’m gonna make him friends with Nene in this au, she appreciates his realness

Because of Akane’s hatred for supernaturals, they don’t get along at first. Teru joins the Student Council to keep a better eye on everyone so he can do better at his job as a Clock Keeper. Kou attending Kamome and getting closer with supernaturals has a lot to do with it. When they first meet, Akane ties Teru up and tries to interrogate him but bcuz this is Less Traumatized Teru it goes way differently than he planned. Teru’s filter is nonexistent so when Akane tries to threaten him he’s just like “oh hello cute boy I like you very much.” But the thing is, Akane can’t tell if Teru is joking or not. He assumes he must be, because there’s no way a School Mystery feels things like love and crushes. Still, Teru is so painfully Just A Regular Dude that Akane is forced to see him differently. Cue the typical Terukane “relationship built on trust” shenanigans. Reluctant partners in crime and what not

I’m not gonna go as far as to say they have a Sakura and Natsuhiko type dynamic but it’s similar. The classic “are you flirting with me?” “have been for the past 10 years, thanks for noticing” meme. Think of it as all of Teru’s jokes about liking Aoi in canon if they were directly aimed at Akane instead. Then the “wait- do you have genuine feelings for Ao-chan?” scene becomes “do you have genuine feelings for me?” or “were you serious this whole time?” Their dynamic changes a lot after that. Akane starts flirting back, and instead of using Aoi to motivate Teru he uses himself. “Help me save her and I might take you up on that offer for a date.” And then they do go on a date, at the school festival right before everything turns to shit

Adding to that, in this au I imagine Aoi and Akane are the ones betrothed in the new timeline. This brings in conflict bcuz let’s say Akane used to have feelings for Aoi but those faded over time, it’s all platonic between them now as opposed to what we see in canon. So he has the opportunity to either be with the girl he used to love, the girl he’s been with all his life, his safety blanket…or go back to the boy who’s stolen his heart. Damn that was cheesy, I’m cooking here

Kako also becomes Teru’s father figure btw bcuz he needs one. And despite his dislike for supernaturals, Teru adores Mirai bcuz she reminds him of Tiara. Found family ftw

Thanks for the ask, I hadn’t thought much abt this au before but now I’ve gotten myself invested

[cindylouwhooo]

Chapter four

Gigi’s POV

Lando Norris sent you a message

“Let’s watch a movie instead.” I suggest. “Maybe ‘Cars’. It’s fitting.”

Francisca rolls her eyes and drops down her makeup bag. “No. We said we’d get you out of the house and both you and your manager agreed the Grand Prix is the perfect distraction. Imagine how much you need this for your manager to tell you you need a distraction.”

I plop down on the bed behind her, silently sulking. It’s not that I don’t want to go. Seriously, under any other circumstance I’d be jumping up and down like a teenager at the chance of going to a GP.

But the crippling terror that rips through my belly and rises to the top of my chest at the thought of leaving my studio…it kind of ruins the whole experience.

Kika, sensing my hesitation, drops the brushes on the makeshift vanity and places herself in front of me. “I love you and I’m telling you, I wouldn’t force you to do anything that could possibly be wrong for you.”

I fake a smile, wanting to show her I appreciate her. If she notices the lack of honestly on the shape of my mouth, she doesn’t call me out on it. In fact, she gives me a moment to myself, turning to the mirror and starting her makeup routine.

My body lays flat on the mattress, my heart going a mile a minute when I remember the interesting notification that popped on my screen in the morning.

Pondering whether I should actually

send this message. Your friend

scared the shit out of me when I asked

for your number.

Yeah, she’s protective

like that. ‘S why I love her

No I get it,

Not sure if I can smoothly make

this conversation go on so, I’ll

just get to the point.

Should I be scared?

Absolutely not, I don’t bite.

Bummer:/

seen

I wait a few seconds in the chat, giggling at the little seen word underneath my last sent text. Adorable, how easy it was to leave him speechless—my heart starting to pound against my chest for a completely different reason.

My mind cannot come to terms with how my body and emotions react to this stranger. Sure, he’s attractive. Funny and charming—at least in his interviews. He’s got that British accent that drives me insane and the facial hair that contrary to popular belief, suits him incredibly.

But none of that justify the whole situation. It’s a magnetic force that I cannot ignore and that pulls me out of that bed and on my feet; grinning and mind spinning with the excitement of a new Internet crush. My favourites.

“So, what’s the plan exactly?” I ask.

“We go watch FP1, have a drink, talk to some people—Lily, one of the driver’s girlfriend, has the gossip to tell me, apparently.” I smirk, wondering when was the last time I cared enough for drinks and good gossip. “Then we’ll just drop by Alpine, say hi to Pierre, maybe force him into introducing you to some engineers. And then we can come back to the hotel, eat, wait for the end of FP2 and then…”

She draws out the last word, for the dramatic effect. “And then?”

“Then it’s night out with the boys.”

Lando’s POV

My heart drums inside my chest yet it feels like it’s stuck inside my throat. I try to swallow it down, pretend as if I’m not going crazy over being left on delivered for the past hour—or that the girl who’s been occupying my mind lately is quite literally twenty steps away from me.

She’s here with Kika, Pierre’s girlfriend, smiling and socialising. Talking to everyone but me.

She knows I’m here, she’s seen me. I know it, because I’ve been playing the moment her eyes met mine over and over again in my head.

Fuck, I sound like a fucking teenager.

Reporters and journalists, drivers and other celebrities have tried to get a moment with Gigi Santos who’s enamoured every single person attending the Monaco FP1 session. She’s constantly circled by someone—everyone.

And I just…I just stare like some fucking wanker, unable to move a muscle towards her.

And then she turns her head, putting a stop to her conversation with someone whose name I should know, but don’t, and looks at me.

And fuck if my heart doesn’t jump to the heavens.

I don’t know how, but that woman sees me, like no one ever has. She hasn’t spoken to me once, hasn’t fully, officially I traduced herself. But under her gaze I feel like she sees me. Her lips tilt upwards and her slender fingers rise to the side of her beautiful face; in a second, they start dancing and it takes an embarrassingly long time to realise she’s waving at me, and it’s my time to wave back.

Someone is speaking to me, but I can’t fucking focus on anything else other than Gigi.

Her eyes are—fuck, she’s just—

Gigi giggles, and turns her head to continue talking with her friend and I frown at the loss of contact.

“Lando, it’d be great if you could come back to earth long enough to listen to me.” The voice of my PR manager’s voice snaps me out of my haze. “You’ve got to get into the car in five.”

I nod, even though I haven’t registered what she’s said.

Damn is this session going to be hard.

~ ~ ~

My brows are lowered in concentration, listening to my engineer explain the situation. FP1 was slightly upsetting, the car not wanting to turn properly, clipping the tight walls of Monte Carlo more that once.

But the second session seemed to be going better, until the voice of my engineer was heard fifteen minutes in, ordering me to come into the pits because the car shows to have an issue. Hydraulics, they suspect.

Guilt shimmers in my chest as I allow myself to leave the garage earlier than most—overpowered by my negative emotions and wanting to get away from the scene.

I open my phone, a fairly distraction, and come face to face with a wonderful surprise.

Maybe today won’t be so bad after all…

[crown-of-roses-thsc]

ART TRADES: Closed

This AU now has a blog because…..I feel like the tumblr people would like it!

Like me or my comic? Give me a donation or commission me here!

You can see my favorite THSC artists here :)

THE BIG STICKIN’ MASTERPOST

Heyo! I’m SnickerDoodlez, I’m a she, and you can call me…basically anything that correlates with “SnickerDoodlez” at all, OR the name of my blog! Or just anything that you vibe with tbh!

Just a warning, despite the fact that you would expect a Christian such as I to be…I don’t know, strict? Uptight?- I act REALLY unhinged in my posts sometimes- just don’t let that scare ya off ;) this is a judgement free zone and despite my seemingly rabid exterior I don’t bite. I’m always up for asks, DMs, anything like that!

Chances are if you ask me for permission to do whatever with my characters / AU / etc etc the answer will be an emphatic YES

FAQ:

Q. What is Crown of Roses?

A. Crown of Roses is my Henry Stickmin AU- its story is told through comics that I post on different social media platforms! As for the synopsis…

The Aquatic Division of the Toppat Clan and most of its inhabitants have blown up in a sudden and unexplained "accident", leaving Ellie Rose- one of the few survivors- to be transferred to the airship division, home of Chief Terrence Suave himself. But Suave isn't all he seems to be, and Ellie has taken it upon herself to overthrow him- accompanied by her two new friends, Reginald and "Lefty". But Suave has eyes everywhere... and everyone has a secret to hide.

This prequel-fic comic is named an AU mostly for minor inconsistencies (The way Sven talks about the airship implies that he was part of a different division, whereas in this he's part of the airship, for example), but I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless! It is heavily inspired by a side game that never saw the light of day (though funnily enough I came up with the basic idea before hearing about this!)

Q. May I make fanart of your AU?

A. Fanart / fan content for this AU is always allowed! And you can of course ship whoever you want (within reason, which should go without saying :P), and if you draw it I’d love to see the fanart ;) even if it isn’t a canon ship! And as long as it’s sfw I’ll reblog any fanart I get! My only request is that you tag me in it ^v^

Q. How old are the characters? / It’s weird to ship Reginald and Ellie.

A. Some character ages are changed in this AU! Not to an insane degree- no child-to-adults or adult-to-minors….and most of the ages aren’t confirmed in-game anyways, so I guess it’s not definitely changing? But still, there have been some changes! For now, here’s what I’ll say for ages (they are subject to change, and are mostly to show the basic differences between character ages!)

Carol is 22. Ellie and Sven are 23. Reginald and Burt are 24. Lefty is 30. Terrence Suave is in his 50s.

And yes, Copperrose is a weird ship :) the weirdness of it was actually what inspired me to make an overly-angsty-crack AU….which eventually turned into a story that I’m proud to say seems to be beloved by quite a few people!

Q. Any disclaimers I should know for this blog / AU?

A. This blog DOES contain fictional gore, violence, suicide, alcoholism, references abuse, manipulation….etc. Viewer discretion advised! However, it does NOT contain swearing (only slightly coarse language) or sexual topics (at most there are references to an affair and a joke or two at Reginald’s expense regarding his nonexistent love life)

Q. Do you accept asks?

A. Yes! Send me asks about the story (I may give spoilers ;)), characters, headcanons, etc…) or if you send an ask aimed at any of the AU’s characters, I may respond with a drawing! In fact, PLEASE SEND ME ASKS. PLEASE. I HAVE NO LIFE. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT BEING CRINGE I SHIP COPPERROSE WHICH IS MEGA CRINGE WE DON’T JUDGE HERE.

Q. Will you feature my OC?

A. I have hosted contests in the past where the reward is to have an OC featured in either the background or as a minor character in the project! You’re always free to ask, but unless you win a contest offering it there are no guarantees! At the moment, the main people who have gotten featured characters are contest winners, friends, and my mega-supporters <3

Q. Do you accept art requests / trades?

A. I accept art requests that are specific to my AU, but otherwise I usually won’t. HOWEVER, I’ll art trade with almost anyone as long as I’m not busy! I only have a few no-nos, which are that I won’t draw any shipping (characters you ship are fine, but the art I make wouldn’t be shipping!) and I won’t draw anything political. (I try to avoid flags as well, but if your character has like…a pin with a flag on it that’s fine)

Please check the top of this post for my status!

Q. What are the characters’ sexualities?

A. The short answer is that I don’t confirm those sorts of things in my fiction- ship who you want- but for more info / the exceptions please read this post!

Q. Where can I read this story?

A. See below!

WHERE CAN I READ THIS STORY?

YouTube Dub (Discontinued)

WEBTOON

Ao3

Tumblr

BIOS

Set 1

CHARACTER INFO / REFS (WIP):

LIVING (as of Chapter 1):

Terrence Suave

Sven Svensson

Carol Cross

Reginald Copperbottom

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien

Burt Curtis

Calvin Carter / “Lefty” / John Doe / “Right Hand Man”

Ellie Suave-Rose

??? & ??? Randrolf

Bach

Minty (belongs to @stan-the-man-in-simp-land )

Wilting and Ed

Wolf (belongs to @oreothefox715)

Brutus (belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen)

Gabriel (belongs to @icilarastudios)

DEAD

Randy Radman

T.R.N.K.

Jessica Rose-Suave

Chloe Cross

Valentine Galeforce Copperbottom & Gold Copperbottom

Sir Wilford IV

[lilladylegs]

another insane Splatbox freak. Just leave. You and your loony friends, too. PLEASE! You guys are fucking coo coo and you need to stop poisoning this fandom.

Oh dear, I think there’s been a misunderstanding! So, the guy who created this fandom is a fan of darker themes. I mean, Dangan Ronpa and Your Turn to Die literally involve children getting killed as a part of some death game and Dangan Ronpa takes it further by having these kids kill each other and die in pretty grotesque, mutilating ways. Personally, I prefer YTTD just cause it feels more mature and less based on shock value and fanservice but that’s just me. Dangly romps definitely did play a role in my childhood though. 

In addition, he creates pretty graphic NSFW work in both digital and auditory form (for all we know, he utilizes other medias but I’ll fucking kms if he does fucking interpretive dance). I bring him up because it translates into almost all of his characters on the channel and the reason people tend to gravitate towards his content is because of his dark themes (in addition to spectacular branding, writing, audio editing, art ability, and voice acting- the man’s a deca threat).

Now, you have every right and don’t have to enjoy the darker aspects of his channel. I’m not really a sexual person so I usually avoid his NSFW audios but I’m not gonna shame people who enjoy it: different strokes for different folks! However, because I know sexual content IS a part of his content, I can expect and respect people in the fandom who replicate such art. 

I’m assuming you’re the same person who has been sending Fatal and Fawn anonymous “asks” and my response is: who cares? Who cares if they like dark, morbid shit? Who cares if Fawn is writing about someone grinding on a big, hairy, hunky, space jam man? It’s for entertainment and people are enjoying it (it definitely helps she has stellar writing skills and cohesion in the font and images). Who cares if Fatal is drawing characters that implicitly engage in incest? I think it’s crude to look at his stories at surface level because he puts a lot of thought into them and there’s a shit ton of psychology and character analysis behind it. In addition, as long as it’s not involving real people or advocating for it, then who cares?

Which makes me think the issue is coming down to media literacy. Splat creates and voices characters that abduct, torture, and rape the listeners. That’s pretty fucking graphic and messed up if you think about it. However, looking at the fucker’s interactions with people, he seems pretty nice and empathetic, even going out of his way to indicate that he’s not trying to shame people when responding to their asks. I don’t know what he gains from creating such content and I’m not gonna hypothesize BUT I’m like 99.9999999999% convinced the dude isn’t out in the streets murdering and raping people nor that he condones it. 

In addition, people listen to the content for a reason. For me, there’s a bit of comfort in it, ironically. I have issues with hypermobility and my body is falling apart. I loved being a cook but I had to quit my job because I could no longer do it; if I hold a gallon of milk, my fucking shoulder partially dislocates. If I turn my head while driving, my hyoid bone shifts out of place. My joints are unstable and my ligaments glide around like they don’t give a fuck. I’m a human slip and slide and it sucks. And I know this is something that’s going to get worse as time goes on and I’m still coming to terms and grieving with this. However, I find comfort in body horror because if I can imagine my body in a worse state, I feel a bit more prepared and appreciative of my current condition.

I think it’s important to apply this same logic towards people who gravitate towards these darker themes you’re upset by. It’s not as concrete as “you were a victim of necrophilia so therefore you cope by consuming such content”. Instead, shared emotions and themes may make certain content comforting for someone. In addition, maybe it’s not comforting for them at all; maybe that’s not why they’re engaging with it in the first place. Once again, we have to be open-minded and recognize that other individuals have different perspectives and experiences that we will never truly understand. It’s a bit egotistical to say “this thing bad, shame on you” because who are you to dictate what’s good and bad? Who are you to dictate how the world should be run? 

And I’m not talking to you specifically; everyone should ask themselves these questions, especially myself. It’s easier to tell someone how they should think or to judge them for an action without asking them why they did it in the first place; or to even acknowledge that they probably have a reason for doing it. Furthermore, good and bad aren’t even real; they’re just concepts we created to help us better understand, explain, and describe phenomena. In an essence, morality is a bit ethnocentric. And no, I'm not saying I condone horrendous acts; I'm just trying to poke your brain a bit.

But to put us into a box of “crazy” because of the content we create and consume without understanding us is pretty disheartening. I don’t know you and I’m sure you’re upset for a reason, however, to view the world and others in such a dichotomous way can be dangerous. I urge you to reflect on yourself on why we’re offending you and beyond the surface of “because it’s bad”. For instance, stories like Gypsy Roses' deeply bother me and it's because it reminds me of my own childhood and the feelings of being trapped, abandoned, and the loss of autonomy. In addition, as I’ve stated numerous times, this fandom’s foundation is literally dark, graphic themes. To turn a blind eye and ignore that is disingenuous to both yourself and the fandom. You’re free to engage with the fandom however you want, not that that's my decision anyways. But I’ll respect you as long as you give back the same respect.

And while you’re more than encouraged to provide criticism, I’d hope it’d be valid feedback with you open to having a discussion rather than inflammatory, loaded statements. But at the same time, while you have that right to critique, whomever it’s directed at also has the right to not be open to it. However, if you really are the same person, I think it’s important to note that you’re the only one vocally complaining. While this fandom is small, it speaks louder than words that no one else is complaining and I don’t think it’s because you’re being a martyr. With that, maybe this fandom isn’t for you and that’s okay, not everything is for everyone. Anyways, peepee poopoo

[vampypurplequ33n]

HAPPY 8 YEAR ANNIVERSARY SANDERS SIDESS!!

I wish I could do more for this anniversary celebration but I have to go somewhere today and probably won’t have time to draw anything special. However, this is what I have time for since sanders sides was literally one half of my childhood and I recently got back into the hyperfixation of it. I love each of these characters to death and I’ll explain each of them in detail during this post <3

Logan: He is the best “teacher” ever! I wish he got more love from the other Sides, but the fandom definitely makes up for it. He’s a sucker for Crofters, got me into that jame btw, and he helped me learn a lot of new things! During one of my classes a teacher asked if anyone knew what a “Yerkes-Dodson Curve” was and let me tell you how I raised my hand so fast…. LOGAN MY BOI WE ALL LOVE YOU😭😭

Roman: The Man, the Prince, the Legend. He is so flamboyant I love him for that. He is the embodiment of “drama queen” and he definitely deserves that title. I loved this man to D E A T H since day one. I feel like half of me is literally his personality, and since I’m also insecure it checks out pretty well! If I was forced to only draw one Side for the REST of my life, it would be Roman in a heartbeat.

Patton: HES THE BIGGEST PUFFBALL WEVE GOT IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD AND EVERY CAN AGREE HES AMAZING AND OMFG HES SO ADORABLE AND EVERY BAD THING THAT HAPPENED TO HIM THAT HE COULDNT CONTROL SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED AND I ONLY WISH THE BEST FOR HIM AND HE DESERVES ALL THE COOKIES IN THE WORLD OMGGGGGGGGG- Ahem, aside all that… I do love Patton! He is like the father I wish I could have, and the childhood imaginary friend you had what you were a toddler as well! I love you to bits Patton!

Virgil: He’s a fan favorite, which is understandable. A ton of people deal with anxiety, and a lot of people love the color purple. I.. am in that group but in a slightly insane level- Not the anxiety part that’s being dealt with, but the P U R P L E. He’s my favorite BECAUSE he’s purple. When he was just black I didn’t really like him THAT much, but I saw the appeal. Once he got the purple tho, I LOVED THAT MAN. He really is a big fan favorite and I understand why. Plus he’s a silly little emo gay, who doesn’t like that?

Janus: MY SASSY BOII!!! We love to see him! We all know he loves wine, we all know he definitely needs some validation, and our boy deserves a hug. We love him, and as the saying goes “She is beauty, she is grace, she will lie right to your face.” And he is also the embodiment of…. “Girlboss, gatekeep, gaslight <3” And all of this is the truth, which is definitely gonna mess with him a lil bit :3

Remus: How do you describe your love of a character without it getting to redundant? I love this fucking trashy rat man to death and nothing will change my god damn mind. HES SO SCRUNKLY I LOVE HIM!!! HE IS THE ELBODIMENT OF THE OTHER SIDE OF ME, IM BEING DEADASS RIGHT NOW. I WILL ACTUALLY KEEP RANTING AND RANTING ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS GOD FORSAKEN MAN. I WILL FUCKING KILL FOR HIM (if he doesn’t do it first) His outfit, his personality, HIS FUCKING MACE. HE IS THE EMBODIMENT OF CHAOS AND I LIVE FOR IT!!

Thomas: Him. Just, Him. He deserves all the love this world can possibly give him and more. Whenever he posts is always, and I mean ALWAYS during a troubling part of my life. And he can get me through any bad days I may be having. I swear this guy knows when we are sad and posts RIGHT when that happens and it brings a chuckle to us, making the day MUCH BETTER. He is an inspiration, a goal, a dream, a PARENTAL FIGURE to most of the community and I want him to know that.

@thatsthat24 HAPPY ANNIVERSARY FOR SANDERS SIDES YOU DESERVE ALL OF THE GIFTS AND LOVE THIS COMMUNITY HAS GIVEN YOU!!!!

[snowflake-sage]

Something to help understand/interpret my art, also lore dump (if you care):

Mae and Sage both are my sonas, Mae is my MAIN sona, she’s literally ME, and Sage represents an ASPECT of me.

Mae uses She/her pronouns and Sage uses He/him, they are both non-binary characters that represent different aspects of my gender experience. Mae represents the more physical gender experiences Ive had, and Sage represents more so what my gender is. (This is sort of hard to explain, Mae represents the experiences I’ve had in relation to my physical body that I was born with, and the experiences I’ve had in society and how society has interpreted me and my gender. She’s still accurate to my gender, but her design is more surface level and obvious. Sage on the other had, represents my gender experience at its CORE, and how I actually feel as an individual, despite my body. I feel like I am simply experiencing a feminine experience in some ways because of my body and how society sees me, but I don’t feel like who I am at my core can be put into any box, hence me being non-binary. I feel very much like I’m sort of playing a game and this is just the avatar I have, and that who I am is neither male nor female. I just happen to have more experiences in one regard because of how I was born. Sage is the aspect that cannot be boxed. He is both masculine and feminine, and also neither male or female. He’s just SAGE.) (this is also extremely personal to MY OWN gender experience so if you don’t relate to this don’t think to hard about it, this is literally how I interpret my own identity, it probably doesn’t make any sense to anyone else)

Back to Mae representing my more physical life experience, she carries a lot of my trauma and bad experiences. She represents every part of me that has ever been hurt.

Sage represents a part of me that is less in the earthly experience. If you know what a “higher self” is, that’s basically what Sage is in relation to Mae. He is an aspect of me, and therefore an aspect of Mae, they’re part of the same character. He acts as a sort of “guardian angel” who loves Mae more than anything and he would literally go any length for her. Representative of the innate love that I feel like everyone has for themself until society fucks us over and makes us hate ourselves.

Sage and Mae are NOT romantic towards each other (any art drawn of that is non-canon, sometimes I’m bored) , they are more like a queer-platonic relationship. I wouldn’t say they’re “just friends” because their lore and story and relationship is pretty complex and doesn’t fit that box for me.

Sage is an angel in canon, that takes a physical form which is the form I always draw, I’m working on drawing his true form for lore but I’m still designing it.

Sage is an angel of healing, which is why he’s so tender and gentle towards Mae and in general such a honey.

Sage is an angel of healing, and represents the higher self, but he also represents the shadow self (if you don’t know what that is, google is your friend). He carries the pain and trauma from Mae indirectly. This is why he has a darker color palette, since he represents Mae’s shadow (I actually am contemplating a few other alternate palettes for him , a crème color palette as well a blue one, as I work through the lore I’ll decide when those apply). He is NOT a dark angel or an evil angel. His character is multifaceted and complex, and his color palette just represents what I just explained. There are evil angels in my oc lore universe but their color palette doesn’t represent that bc I think that concept is overused, also I like being ironic. Sage having a darker palette is again, linked to his relation to Mae and the trauma he carries from her.

Even though Sage is small and sweet looking he is literally insanely powerful, like CRAZY strong

Sage being the shadow self, and also being so close and loving to Mae represents that our shadow self is not a part of us that is bad and needs to be pushed away, but actually a part of us that is just hurt and desperately needs love and healing.

I draw a lot of art of Mae and Sage embracing, either lovingly or during times of turmoil. I draw a lot of art of Mae being physically or mentally hurt and being comforted or embraced by Sage, Sage having different reactions situationally. A lot of the time, Mae is representing the physical effects of trauma, and Sage is the inner self mourning/crying/ suffering the trauma. Sort of like how you feel terrible for your child self for being mistreated, or how you feel bad for yourself because of the experiences you’ve had. It’s like a depiction of self pity, but also in a way, self love. It’s like holding yourself and crying for how the world has hurt you, and wishing better for yourself.

It’s symbolism✋