#net bingos

[01432853]

@asiandramanet jan/feb creator bingo — layout:

REN XIN

[ template by x ]

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Ready for season 2 babes

[lbibliophile-sw]

Breaking Habits

Also on AO3 @whumptober-archive - day 1: safety net, day 22: "watch out", vehicular accident @clonefandomevents - Haunted Clones week & 501st bingo - day 1: time loop

They say that it can take as little as 21 rotations to build a habit.

Rex doesn’t know just how many weeks he was trapped in the loop – he lost count somewhere after the 30th morning of waking up in the Coruscant barracks. Yet eventually he found the combination: he saved Fives, made the Jedi listen, defeated the Sith.

But then there is the aftermath. For all that he had been desperate to unravel the mystery, the routine had become familiar, comforting, safe. Details fading into the background as he focused on each variable.

Now… People aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Conversations take unfamiliar turns. Someone moved ‘his’ caf-mug from the shelf. Things change without his input, and it leaves him wrong-footed and unsure.

The first time he leaves the barracks After, only Jesse’s reflexes keep him from being run over by a speeder-truck. Rex didn’t check, because this intersection is always clear. Rex didn’t react fast enough, because dying just meant waking up.

He has to remind himself that consequences linger; people remember and injuries take time to heal. He has to relearn how to accept uncertainty.

[hermioneismyrealname]

There is something about James leaving and Net staying on that is bittersweet. It feels right in a heartbreaking way. James is doing it for himself and Net respects that. Net isnt waiting because he is an actor and this is what he wants to do. It is a new challenge that I cannot wait to support them through.

I, personally saw this coming around new years. Then it just felt even more so at valentine's. I got suspcious when james was in the zomvivor trailer but not at the blessing ceremony.

I was waiting for the series. I will still wait because that's what a fan does. I hope to be able to see them both grow without each other and hopefully not apart from each other. It's a shame, but perhaps they will find even more happiness.

[witchyleehibernates-fics]

Tough Cookie Conversations

Summary:

“I was thinking cookies,” is how Cherry greeted her as Marcia walked into the kitchen. Marcia blinked before nodding, noting that Cherry was dressed in her pajamas and on one of the kitchen table chairs was her school bag, so Marcia could guess that Cherry was staying the night. “What kind? Did you bring a recipe?” Marcia asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, a smile appearing onto her face. She had a box of recipes and she knew that only she held the recipe card for Cherry��s favorite cookies. “Could we make those peanut butter ones?” Cherry asked, “I think I remembered most of its ingredients this time!” Cherry was staring at her hopefully, hands grasped in front of her as she sort of twisted in place. Marcia laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go grab that recipe, and then we can bake.” Cherry squealed excitedly as Marcia pushed off the doorframe. Marcia made sure to stop in the living room to put away her homework, which her and Cherry would probably do later when the cookies were refrigerating, and to put her blanket back in her room.

Content Warning's/Trigger Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Marcia and Cherry do some baking to have a hard conversation,

Characters: Marcia, Sherri "Cherry" Valance

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 1,304

Status: Complete

Fanfic Links:

|| Ao3 || Fanfiction Net ||

......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... ......... .........

Marcia sighed to herself as she ran a brush through her hair, a mental debate occurring within her about whether or not she was going to try and reach out to Two-Bit. The damn greaser was stuck in her thoughts and she had yet to find something, anything, to get him out. She was becoming unusually quiet and withdrawn with her friends, and it was clear that they were beginning to truly notice. Some of them were beginning to worry, and Marcia wasn’t one to let someone worry about her when there was nothing wrong…

But could she honestly say that there was nothing wrong?

She was constantly stuck in thought, deep thought, that had her wondering about herself, about her appearance, about the people around her, and about a damn greaser that went by the name Two-Bit. She had tried to pretend nothing was wrong whenever Cherry had asked her if she was okay.

She knew that Cherry didn’t believe her whenever she said she was fine.

She sighed, putting her brush down and turning to grab a blanket before moving to go downstairs to sit by the phone. Her homework was in her bag downstairs, and she had every intent of finishing it while she waited.

He wasn’t going to call, but she would wait anyway.

“Marcia? Sherri’s here to see you.” Marcia blinked, looking up and around her in slight confusion. It took her a second to realize that she’d fallen asleep, and she sighed as she stretched, looking over at her mother who was watching her, vague amusement and concern on her face.

“Cherry’s here?” Marcia asked in confusion, blinking as she pushed herself up, quickly catching the book they were reading for English and bookmarking it to set aside. Her blanket fell to the floor in a heap and she promised herself to pick it up later. She had to see why Cherry was here first.

Marcia wasn’t surprised to find Cherry in the kitchen, nor was she entirely phased by the shopping bag that was on the counter beside her. When they were younger, and Marcia had been allowed to start baking with only slight supervision, they were often found in the kitchen baking away their feelings that they had decided were too overwhelming for them. It had become their thing whenever they had ‘big emotion’ conversations that they had been ignoring.

“I was thinking cookies,” is how Cherry greeted her as Marcia walked into the kitchen. Marcia blinked before nodding, noting that Cherry was dressed in her pajamas and on one of the kitchen table chairs was her school bag, so Marcia could guess that Cherry was staying the night.

“What kind? Did you bring a recipe?” Marcia asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, a smile appearing onto her face. She had a box of recipes and she knew that only she held the recipe card for Cherry’s favorite cookies.

“Could we make those peanut butter ones?” Cherry asked, “I think I remembered most of its ingredients this time!” Cherry was staring at her hopefully, hands grasped in front of her as she sort of twisted in place. Marcia laughed lightly and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll go grab that recipe, and then we can bake.” Cherry squealed excitedly as Marcia pushed off the doorframe. Marcia made sure to stop in the living room to put away her homework, which her and Cherry would probably do later when the cookies were refrigerating, and to put her blanket back in her room.

“So…” Marcia tilted her head as she started rolling out their cookie dough. Cherry was sitting at the kitchen table behind her, still idly working on her English essay that was due the next day. Marcia’s was done and already packed away, her math and science homework being the last two things she needed to get done, but she also really wanted to roll out cookies because she was beginning to get a craving for them. “What’s been bothering you lately?”

Marcia sighed, setting aside the rolling pin as she reached for the star cookie cutter. She wanted the maximum amount of stars for this roll out before it was Cherry’s turn, and she would no doubt choose the heart.

“Nothing’s-”

“Marcia.” Marcia’s mouth clicked shut. “Don’t lie to me. It’s just us.” Marcia had gotten three stars onto her cookie pan.

“Two-Bit hasn’t called.” Marcia sighed, taking a moment to fiddle with her cookie cutter as she placed a fourth star onto her cookie sheet. “I know it was a long shot, but I thought he liked me, you know? Thought that maybe… maybe that there could have been a chance.” There was a moment where Marcia thought that she shouldn’t have told Cherry, before there was a sigh.

“Sometimes I think about that night too,” Cherry uttered. This was new to Marcia, who thought that Cherry had always tried to forget that night at the drive in never happened. That was a defining difference between the two of them; it made people wonder how the two of them had been such good friends for so long.

Cherry was always looking forward, looking ahead with this master plan of leaving Tulsa one day. Making a name for herself, either in the rodeo or in whatever job field she chose. She wanted to change people’s minds on women.

And Marcia was always stuck on the past. Reliving memories to see what could have changed, or maybe if there had been signs of someone’s true character. She often spent so long in the past it left her scrambling to catch up to everyone else.

It was why her and Cherry got along so well, they balanced each other out. At least, that’s what Marcia’s mother had always said; Marcia would start thinking too much of the past, and Cherry would remind her to look ahead. Cherry would look too far ahead and Marcia would pull her back to the present.

“What do you think about?” Marcia asked.

“About Dallas. About Bob. About that poor boy, Johnny. About Ponyboy sometimes.” Cherry sighed. “Ponyboy’s struggling in school, and it’s like their group closed up tight after… after everything.” Cherry’s voice sounded thick, like she was holding back tears.

Marcia didn’t blame her.

It didn’t make sense to Marcia, for Cherry to think about that night ever. The drive in. Dallas Winston hitting on her. A near miss of a fight between Two-Bit and Pony, and Randy and Bob… Waking up the next morning to Bob… To Bob being dead.

Marcia glanced down at her stars, she hadn’t even noticed that she was nearly out of dough, having been using the cookie cutter as she tried to think of why Cherry would have been thinking of that night so much.

“I think about Two-Bit. And-and how the guys jumped him… and how I just watched.” Marcia uttered, and there was a sharp breath from Cherry. “He was probably right to not call…”

“Marcie, no,” Cherry sounded heartbroken, but Marica shrugged as if she was shrugging Cherry off. “Do you want a hug? Do… Do you need a hug right now?” Cherry asked. “I could use a hug right now, and I think it would be beneficial for you too.”

She set her cookie cutter down, turning and opening her arms towards Cherry, and it took Marcia a moment to realize she was crying. Cherry was quick to jump up and the two girls hugged tightly, ignoring the oven not even preheated yet and the dough that was soon going to get too warm and they would have to refrigerate it again.

Marcia hadn’t realized how much she had needed a hug until now.

She closed her eyes and squeezed a little tighter, ignoring the ache in her heart.

[spritehouse]

Prompts: Take my Hand | @badthingshappenbingo Safety Net | @whumptober

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid Characters: Luke Alvez (Criminal Minds), Spencer Reid Additional Tags: Whump, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, Whumptober 2023, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Gunshot Wounds, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol, Drunk Driving, Car Accidents, Mentioned Emily Prentiss, Mentioned Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), Hurt Luke Alvez, Luke Alvez needs a hug, Good Partner Spencer Reid, Escapism, Veteran Luke Alvez, Mentioned Penelope Garcia, Suicide Notes Series: Part 2 of ShortMC's Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?” Yes, every day of his damn life. He dreams about it—dying—how he’d do it. When he was young—a kid—it was his mother’s medication of one of his father’s razors. When he got his license, it was crashing his car. When he was with her, it was drinking too much, a knife, or her hands—his note is etched into his brain, apologizing to his family and explaining everything, giving the money he has since spent on alcohol to his little sister, some drafts beginning to explain what his ex did to him before he scraps them.

- or, an luke has spent his life walking a tightrope, wondering it it would be easier to let himself fall

[artfulacrostic]

whumptober begins!!

flying headfirst into fate

Dick let go. He'd fallen farther before, he was sure, but in the moment, as his grapple gun snagged on one of his gloves and sent him tipping sideways, he couldn't remember when.

OR: Five times in Dick Grayson's life that there was no safety net, and one time that there was.

+

Whumptober 2023 Day No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.” Safety Net

[bestfluteninja]

yay flunk day :)

[01432853]

@asiandramanet  jan/feb creator bingo — black and white:

Ning Yuanzhou

[ insp. by x / tutorial by x ]

[htaesan]

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ IT’S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS　　────　ᅠ ( park sungho )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀love, to park sungho, is just a waste of time. yet when he falls for you (literally), he might just change his mind.

　　　ᅠ 박성호 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 1.7k ⠀ genre love at first sight fluff meet-cute baker / cafe au ⠀ contains mentions of food profanities ⠀ note my first fic here AND my first bnd work ever! sungho's just awkward in here kekeke (actually idk what i'm writing here) ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

Sungho wasn’t the type to easily fall in love. To him, love is a waste of time and money—why would you pour your heart, time, and effort out to someone who you won’t even spend the rest of your life with? All of his friends, from different points of his life, have tried various ways to get his heart hooked onto a girl. But, of course, none of their attempts proved successful. To everyone around Sungho, he’s just a cute guy with a heart of stone. 

However, after 20 years of letting Sungho decide for himself, the universe decided to catalyse the whole entire reaction for him—pushing the future love of his life into his face, right at his workplace, where he had only recently gotten a job at. 

Literally. 

“Oh my god…” 

You blink confusedly—one second ago, you were getting up from your seat to go grab the drinks the barista had prepared for you. Now, you’re on the floor, with lattes spilled over your clothes, and your back slightly aching from the impact. 

“What the f—oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” Sungho says, scrambling to his feet. How could he be so stupid? Knocking a customer down and drenching the lattes in her hand all over her is certainly going to ruin his perfect reputation. Quickly, Sungho reaches out his hand, offering it to you. 

You look up, eyes widened. Was this handsomely cute guy the one who pushed you to the floor, having both of your drinks soaking your clothes? You blink again, perplexed, as you try to take in the situation. 

“Oh, yes,” you mumble, taking his hand, realising that people are watching. 

“I’m really, really sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to–” 

“It’s okay,” you say through your polite smile. As you steady yourself, you look down on your outfit and realise that it is certainly… not. 

Sungho watches you analyse the situation of your latte-drenched clothes with eyes widened in horror. He panickedly searches for napkins in his apron and his pockets, and hands you a crumpled one he’s found in his pocket. “Here.” 

You give him a chuckle. “It won’t really help a lot but,” you pause, grabbing the napkin from him, “it’s the thought that counts, hm?”

Bingo. 

As you smile, tingles rush through Sungho’s skin. He’s suddenly hyper aware of how his arm is still extended awkwardly, long after you’ve received the napkin. His eyes blink forcedly as he retracts his hand. Sungho gulps, weirdly feeling faint.  

“Well,” you chuckle sheepishly. “It’s getting awkward—I should go back to my table. Thanks for the napkin,” your eyes look at the name tag pinned to his apron, “Sungho.”

You give him one final smile before walking away, oblivious to Sungho’s tongue-tied state. 

“Yo, Sungho,” he hears Dongmin, the barista, call. “Are you gonna just stand there or what? The mess ain’t gonna clean itself, you know.”

Sungho then burst himself out of his daze, scurrying to clean up the mess, ignoring the eyes of people in the cafe. As he’s mopping the final traces of the homemade tomato sauce off the floor, his eyes catch a glimpse of you—laughing angelically, illuminated by the sunlight shining through the window. 

That was two weeks ago. And Sungho is desperately trying to get rid of this fluttering in his empty stomach, one that he feels every single time his brain replays the scene in his mind. 

Love is a waste of time, he repeats to himself like a daily mantra. 

However, Sungho knows that repeating that isn’t doing anything to combat the fact that his cheeks are heating up every single time he sees you walk into the cafe. And, certainly, hiding behind the fresh baskets of bread he baked this morning and eavesdropping on you ordering your menu for the day isn’t a really good solution, either. 

“What the hell, Sungho?” Dongmin hisses. “You almost hit me!”

Sungho smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Min.”

“Welcome to The Boy Next Door. Good morning, Y/N,” Sungho’s attention is pulled to Donghyun, the part-time barista, who’s greeting you. You smile back, leaning against the counter as you think of what to get for the day. 

“Good morning, Donghyun,” you nod. 

“What’s the occasion today? Assignments or an online meeting that you can’t be bothered to take at home?” Donghyun asks, giggling. 

You laugh with him. “I need a quick brunch—I have a nail appointment after this. What do you suggest?”

Maybe it’s the love hormones, or maybe it’s the fact that Sungho’s completely bewitched for you—he stands upright, eyes staring straight at you. Without hesitation, he voices, “you should try the Mushroom Cream Pasta—it’s my own recipe.”

Regret flushes through Sungho as your eyes widen with surprise. “O-oh! Sungho, I didn’t see you there,” you say with a fond look that makes Sungho’s heart pump even faster than it already is. 

“Sungho… what are you doing?” Donghyun questions. 

“I…” 

Cover this up quickly, you idiot. 

Sungho gives you a small grin. “Well, I just heard that you wanted a brunch… idea? So, I gave you one!”

You laugh, and it hits Sungho right in the heart. “Alright, I’ll take one of the Mushroom Cream Pasta,” you tell Donghyun, who nods in response.  

“You’ll be cooking it for me, right, Sungho?”

Yes, ma’am. 

And that’s how Sungho found himself in the kitchen, eagerly yet nervously cooking up a pasta dish for the girl he’s somehow grown shy of. As he’s tossing the ingredients together, Sungho thinks about your laughter—how angelic he finds it, and how it makes your eyes crinkle so cutely. As he’s grating the cheese into the pan of pasta, Sungho’s reminded of his “meet-cute” with you—how cool you sounded when you shrugged off his frantic apologies, instead of getting worked up about it like some other customers do. As he’s carefully plating the dish with rather shaky hands, Sungho confirms to himself—he might just have a tiny crush on you: one of The Boy Next Door’s loyal customers. Cupid’s cheering in the background—his arrows had hit the target, exactly where it’s needed: right at Park Sungho’s heart.

“Here… you go,” Sungho manages with a small voice. He stands rigidly at your table, his arms tightly kept next to his body. He forces a polite smile, secretly wishing that you wouldn’t notice his nervousness. 

“Are you usually this awkward… or is it just me?” you ask, laughing at how wide his eyes get at your question. 

Sungho quickly shakes his head. “No! Certainly not, I’m not… usually... awkward…”

You laugh again. “Well, then it’s just me.” 

If it were totally up to Sungho, he’d love to just take a seat in front of you and watch you eat. However, the universe isn’t totally on his side, so he excuses himself to go tend to another customer’s order. 

“Hey, man,” Dongmin says, catching Sungho’s attention. He looks up from the salmon sandwich he’s constructing. “Is it just me or you’re just weirdly obsessed with that girl by the window?” 

Sungho’s eyes widen in surprise, and he gives a train of awkward laughs. “What? No… what are you talking about?”

No, you know what he’s talking about.

“Dude, even a five year old can catch up on it,” Dongmin rolls his eyes. He ruffles his hair before continuing. “You better shoot your shot before it’s too late—I think she’s just waiting for you to ask at this point.”

“Huh?” Sungho says, handing the finished plate to Lia, another coworker who passed by. 

“Are you really dense or what?” Dongmin replies, laughing. He pats Sungho’s shoulder before signalling towards you. “Y/N, right? Just go tell her you like her.”

Flabbergasted, Sungho freezes. His eyes widen in realisation, and everything starts to kick in. 

He actually likes someone.

He likes you. 

Dongmin is just teasing him, trying to get him to like you—however, little did he know that this isn’t a simple tease that Sungho would ignore. 

“It’s a fucking wake up call,” Sungho mutters to himself. “I… finally like someone.”

However, being a man with no experience of approaching a girl he likes, Sungho remains at his post, arranging freshly baked pastries as he waits for you to finish your meal and pass by him when you walk out of the cafe. 

“Sungho!” you exclaim, rushing towards him. 

“Yeah?” he replies, breathless somehow. 

You smile shyly. “Thanks for the meal—I mean, for cooking it. It’s really good! I love it.”

Sungho mirrors your smile. “You do?” he laughs, “oh—oh my God! I- that’s such a relief! I really– I really thought it’d be horrible or something, you know, I’m afraid I accidentally put in sugar instead of salt, and sour cream instead of the normal one… you know?”

You nod, still smiling. “It’s really good, Sungho. I’d eat it again next time I need brunch.”

“Of course! Yeah, yeah. Of… course,” Sungho nods, eyes darting here and there. 

“Also, may I ask you something?” you continue. 

Sungho tilts his head as he narrows his eyes a little. “Sure, of course.”

Taking a deep breath, you say, “did I… do something wrong? To you? ‘Cause all you’ve been doing these past couple of weeks is avoiding me whenever I come in…”

Sungho sucks his breath through gritted teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He exhales heavily before replying. “Are you… willing to hear me out?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod. “Make it quick though, I have a nail appointment soon..”

“So, this is really really awkward—’cause we’re talking in the middle of the cafe, and I’m holding bread tongs as I’m speaking—I told my friends for the past twenty years that I’d never fall in love, and that love is a waste of my time but then I kinda fell in love and I would absolutely love it if you gave me the honour of becoming your boyfriend,” Sungho says, in one go, without taking a breath in between his words.

“Oh.” is all you’re able to manage. 

“So,” Sungho gives you a smile. “I know the… first impression isn’t great but I could make your second impression of me better?”

You laugh, giving him a napkin that you’ve neatly folded into a heart and written your phone number on it earlier. “Actually, it’s the third impression. And of course, feel free to make it better than the pasta you made me just now.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

[levemetal]

My work for the Qijiu Secret Santa!

Giftee had multiple prompts but I ended up on"SJ didn't end up on CQ. Their reunion is different than in canon."

Anyway I am now 47384 layers deep into hell another Qijiu AU so more under the cut if you wish to dive in.

So essentially the AU starts simple enough: Everything is the same as in canon, except SJ never makes it out alive out of the Qiu Manor fire. Too embittered and angry to die, he becomes a ghost and sets out to do what he does best, which is survive and claw his way to a spot where he can be safe and not fear others as much. So he becomes a calamity ghost.

On his adventures to find Yue Qi (or what remains of him), he comes across Ning Yingying, Ming Fan and Luo Binghe at different times. Against all odds they stick with him and he doesn't hate it. It's nice to have company even if he reasons the dead are probably not the best company for kids. But he can't just leave them to the slavers. So they are now adopted and his lil ducklings. He finds they are equally unhinged as he is very quickly. The reason they look similar to him here with the veil and all is cause they wanna look like A-die :3 Bingus’s seal gets accidentally destroyed when SJ senses something odd about the boy when meeting him and whoops. Well there goes the seal. Guess they have to take him along now (not that NYY and MF were gonna let him leave without taking Bingo along). I figure this probably has good consequences on Bongo’s self confidence issues as he would learn early on that being half demon does not mean he’s evil. Afterall his A-die is literally a ghost.

YQY still becomes sect leader, albeit a very, very depressed one. He killed Wu Yanzi at the IAC but SJ wasn't there this time. He wants to die but is stopped at every corner by either his Shizun or fellow sect siblings. A few years later, at one of the disciple selections, he sees a boy with a strong resemblance to SJ and picks him up immediately, hoping him to be either a relative or reincarnation. Either way, that's his son and sole reason for living now. Said son is the transmigrated Shen Yuan who is very much confused about the current state of the plot (wdym SQQ is not there?? Who is that QJPL? Where's Binghe??)

Anyway the ducklings weren't necessary but happened anyway so. Figured I'd mention them. One day Yqy goes on a nighthunt with Shen Yuan which then leads them into Ghost City by accident. And lo and behold who he runs into.

They reunite, probably take a while to sort their shit out and now Yqy's sect siblings just gotta deal with Zhangmen-Shixiong having an emotional support calamity ghost and husband and 3 new kids. (Mqf counts this as a net positive since at least he doesn't have to guard Yqy's sword anymore lest his shixiong pulls it out. Liu Qingge is Conflicted and takes a bit to get the memo. He DOES enjoy sparring with the calamity tho eventually.)

Apologies for recycling my one calamity SJ design but I am perpetually tired and couldn't think of anything different. And I am sorry for once again making a calamity SJ AU. I notice a pattern. Unfortunately I possess no illusions of having any control over my life.

Maybe one day I get around to fic writing I'll write this and the 37288483 AUs I have... but first, bonus sketches:

[shuadotcom]

Main Dish | HJS (M)

☐ Summary: When lunch ends up being inedible, Joshua has to pick something else to eat.

☐ Pairing: Joshua x Afab!Reader

☐ Genres & AUs: Smut, fluff, established relationship!au, absolutely porn without plot

☐ Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☐ Warnings: Profanity, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, baby girl, sweetheart, honey, good girl), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting

☐ Words: 3.2k

☐ Note: This fic is brought to you by my lack of cooking skills and my insatiable need for Joshua. It was also written for @kpopsblackcreatorsociety Bon Voyage Bingo event! The bingo square/prompt for this fic is camping.

Thank you @horanghater for being my beta ily 🥰

☐ Net Tag: @kflixnet

“Please don’t go off, please don’t go off, please do-”

BEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEEP

“Goddamnit!” Working as fast as possible, you grab the pan from the hot stove top, removing it from the heat. The blare of the smoke detector rings out through the apartment and you have to act quickly to open all the nearby windows, waving away the smoke in the air with the dish towel. 

Once the smoke mostly clears and the alarms have subsided, you survey the scene in front of you. Grumbling in frustration you eye the now burnt tofu on the stovetop and let out a disappointed sigh. You had just wanted to cook something fun and new for your boyfriend. He’s been camping with his friends for the past week and you figure he would appreciate a home-cooked meal but, as usually happens with you in the kitchen, it turned out to be a disaster. 

You weren’t a cook by any means, but you knew how to get by with very basic skills. Boiling eggs, making stove-top ramen, and using the air fryer slash toaster oven you had begged for on your last birthday. 

All of the essentials of cooking. 

Tonight, the plan was originally to try a new pan-fried tofu recipe you saw on TikTok because it looked yummy. Instead of looking like the wonderfully golden-fried nuggets that they were supposed to resemble, all that sits in the pan in front of you now are uneven little pieces of charcoal. 

Great. Wonderful. Amazing.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen, gnawing at a hangnail in distress, you didn’t even take notice of your boyfriend watching you from the entrance of the room, admiring how cute you looked in your little lounge clothes and apron. His entrance had been drowned out by the blaring of the smoke alarms.

“Don’t chew on your nails, honey, it’s not good for you.”

Joshua’s voice is much louder than the music you are playing from your phone on the counter and you nearly leap into the air when you hear him.

“Jesus, Shua! You scared the shit out of me!” Clutching your chest, you reach over and pause the sound from your phone.

He chuckles as he approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you in for a hug. 

“Sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it.” He apologizes, but the smirk on his face shows he’s not really that sorry.

Joshua places a kiss and your waiting lips and your annoyance at being jump-scared fades. He smells like outside and a little bit like sweat, but underneath that, he still has his usual warm, homey scent that belongs only to him.

You let him take your breath away a little while longer, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. He rests his head against yours when you pull away, his eyes tired but still sparkling down at you.

“How was your guys' camping trip?”

“Well, Mingyu found a spider in his tent and tore the whole thing down trying to get out, Soonyoung got sunburnt and fell into the lake, and Vernon forgot his allergy medicine and spent all week sneezing.”

“So the usual shenanigans?”

With a chuckle, Joshua nods, looking you up and down. “Basically, but I’m having a much better time now that I’m back here with you.�� He leans down to kiss your forehead and you still let yourself get flustered by his sweet words, even after three years together. “And what’s going on in here?” He asks when he finally pulls away, eyes looking over your head at the charred remains of your lunch.

“Nothing, just me fucking up in the kitchen again.” Pouting, you cross your arms, wincing as Joshua steps up to the counter, inspecting what’s remaining of the tofu.

“Ah baby, they don’t look that bad…” He uses the chopsticks you left nearby to poke at a piece, raising it to his face and sniffing it.

“Shua, don’t-” Before you can stop him, he pops it into his mouth, chewing extra slowly. Your boyfriend, always so sweet to you and considerate of your feelings, looks like he’s in physical pain as he crunches the food, his nose wrinkling with each shift of his jaw. With a sigh you walk over and grab a sheet of paper towel, holding it up to his mouth. “Spit it out.”

“It doesn’t taste terrible…” he mumbles between chews, eyebrows furrowing as he does.

“Joshua, just spit it out!” At your insistence he does, expression apologetic.

Joshua watches you take the rest of the tofu and throw it away, shoulders slumping in defeat. He moves across the kitchen to stand behind you, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Don’t be upset, baby. It’s just some tofu.”

“But I fucked up lunch for you! I just wanted to make you a homemade meal since you’ve been eating over a campfire all week.” Joshua coos at you, pulling you tighter against him.

“Aw, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do all this in the first place. I think we both know that you would’ve been better off ordering something. There’s a reason I do most of the cooking, remember?” He laughs, his tone teasing.

Gasping, you spin in his hold, round eyes staring up at him as you pout for what feels like the twentieth time tonight. “Joshie, are you saying I can’t cook?!”

Faltering, Joshua’s eyes dart back and forth, strategically planning his next words. 

“I - I didn’t mean that you can’t cook, Y/n. I just -”

“I’m kidding, Shua. Of course, I know I can’t cook.” He’s clearly relieved, rolling his eyes at your giggles. 

Joshua leans down to pepper your face with kisses, holding you close, ignoring your feeble attempt to escape his grasp.

“I guess it’s a good thing then that I wasn’t even thinking about what I’d eat for lunch.” He places a final kiss on your cheek before pulling back to gaze at you.

“You weren’t?”

“Of course not. How could I even begin to think about lunch when all I could think about was tasting you again?” Joshua smirks at you, laughing when you scoff, your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“How did I know you wouldn’t even be a little bit subtle about wanting to have sex as soon as you got back?” 

“Because you know how addicted I am to you and how much I think about you.” You and Joshua are chest to chest, his hands tracing your body, fingertips pressing lightly into your curves.

Joshua’s voice has already lowered an octave, eyes flickering to your lips. You’re in no way surprised at how quickly Joshua turned the situation from silly and domestic to horny, but you’re not bothered in the slightest, more than happy to fuck your boyfriend again. A week has been far too long of a time to go without Joshua’s cock inside of you.

“Oh, so you were thinking of me on your trip? Thought you’d be too busy grilling meat and playing games with the boys.” 

“Baby, I’m always thinking about you, but especially when we’re not together.” Joshua ducks down, his nose brushing yours. 

“And what about me were you thinking about exactly?” You whisper, holding your breath as you await his next words.

“Well, I was thinking all about how sweet your cunt is and how I couldn’t wait to come home and devour you.”

Somehow you hadn’t registered that Joshua walked you back until the counter pressed into your lower back, trapping you between it and Joshua’s firm body.

“Hmm…then I guess lunch is served whenever you’re ready to eat,” Tilting your head up, your lips brush against Joshua’s. You shift your leg forward, knee brushing against the crotch of his sweatpants. A grunt slips out of him when you make contact with his half-hard cock and he surges forward, lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss. 

Joshua’s soft lips move against yours, his hands cupping your face to keep you close. Your hands trail up Joshua’s thick arms, tracing every ridge and dip of muscle. You’ve never been shy about how much you enjoy the new gym rat era he and a few of his friends have entered, making sure to be very obvious about the way you appreciate the new muscle he’s worked on gaining. He also doesn’t hide just how much he loves how the bulkier version of him turns you on, your boyfriend flexing for you so the muscles tense and loosen a few times under your fingertips.

Those same strong arms move to hold your waist, holding onto you as he swallows every pant and tiny whine that you let out. Joshua’s tongue wraps around yours and sucks, the kiss descending into lewd territory as Joshua grinds against your thigh still wedged between his legs.

The kiss feels like it goes on forever, which is in no way a complaint. Joshua’s hands wander all over your body, hands skating down to grab at your bare thighs and up to your ass, grabbing a handful to bring your hips impossibly closer. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, feeling your cotton panties clinging to you with each shuffle of the fabric. 

Joshua seems to read your mind as he finally moves a hand under your apron and into the waistband of your shorts and panties, his finger grazing your pussy making you jolt and buck into his hand.

“Would you look at that? You’re fucking drenched just from my kisses?” To illustrate his point, he pulls his fingers from your shorts, holding the wet digits up to showcase your juices to you both.

“Fuck, yeah, I need you so badly. I missed you so much.”

Joshua hums, popping his fingers into his mouth, eyes closing as he sucks them clean, savoring your flavor. The scene is enough to have you rubbing your thighs together, easily recalling just how good his tongue feels when it’s on you.

“Mmm, I missed you too, baby. And speaking of, I’m starving, so I think I’m ready to eat now.”

Joshua plants his hands on your hips and turns you around so his front is pressed against your back, walking with you out of the kitchen and around to the island, leaving kisses on the back of your neck as you go. When you reach the side of the island that you usually sit to eat at, Joshua’s nimble fingers untie your apron and lift it over your head, tossing it to the floor. Your shorts and panties come next as he slides the fabric down your legs, letting them pool at your feet.

Your boyfriend makes a sound of appreciation at the sight of your bare ass, big hands squeezing your cheeks before landing a firm smack on one of them. He helps you up onto the island, sitting you near the edge. Joshua pulls up a stool in front of you, spreading your legs wide, and letting out a low whistle.

“Look at all of this, so messy and sloppy all for me.” Joshua leans forward and places kisses on the inside of your thighs, inhaling your scent as he does, small moans rumbling in his throat.

A few whimpers slip out of you with each kiss over your hot skin, Joshua’s breath hitting your core only serving to make you wetter. Joshua loves eating you out, always talking about how good you taste and how much he loves the way you smell when you’re dripping for him.

He doesn’t leave you waiting for long this time (another thing Joshua loves is to tease you, but he seems to want you bad enough to spare you this time) as his tongue finally licks at your clit, the muscle flattening and adding much-needed pressure. 

A squeal of Joshua’s name tumbles out of you as he licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit - once, twice, three times, each go making you twitch underneath him. Your legs almost snap shut, but his firm grip keeps them open.

“Nuh-uh, keep your legs open, baby girl. I haven’t even started eating my meal.”

Your eyes stay trained on him as his hands grab the back of your thighs, pushing them toward you. You lie on your back in a more comfortable position, hands trembling as they hold onto the front of your shirt in anticipation.

“I’ll never get tired of eating you out, you know that? Never get tired of how fucking sweet you taste on my tongue.” To further his point, Joshua’s thick tongue slips into your pussy, lapping at your gummy walls, letting his nose brush against your clit.

“F-fuck!” Your hands dart down, fingers threading through his brunette strands, tugging at the root as he tongue fucks you on the kitchen island. 

Every grunt and groan that Joshua lets out is deep, deep enough that the vibrations can be felt throughout your whole body. You can’t help but thrash underneath him, loud obscene slurping sounds fill the room as he works. Joshua’s hands keep your thighs pinned down, preventing you from nearly falling off the counter while his face presses closer to your cunt. 

He eats you out like a man starved, a week without your pussy proving to be much too long away for him. The tip of his tongue is still buried inside of you, flicking at your walls at an almost impossible speed. 

Fire begins to quickly pool in the pit of your stomach, nails digging into Joshua’s scalp which only spurs him on more.

“Shua, b-baby so good!”

“Mmph?” You can’t quite hear what he says but it sounds like it has a questioning tilt at the end.

“‘M gonna cum!”

That must’ve been what he was getting at because he picks up the pace and moves his hold on you to the sides of your thighs and makes you wrap your legs around his head. Joshua uses this new angle to force you to rock your hips against his face, leaning into you so far that when you glance down, all you see is the top of his hair which you’re still holding onto for dear life. 

Rolling your hips you go with his movement, desperately riding his face. Joshua lets you, his tongue drilling into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

When you do cum, you stiffen almost painfully as heat spreads through your body, your thighs squeezing around him like a vice, holding him in place. Your boyfriend happily continues lapping at your sensitive core, murmurs of praise accompanying his coos of delight.

“So fucking tasty,” Joshua sighs as he pulls back, finally taking in air through his mouth. He glances at you, watching your chest heave as you catch your breath. Without a second thought, with your hole still clenching around nothing, Joshua shoves one of his thick fingers into you, drawing a gasp out of you. 

“Shua!?”

He has the audacity to blink up at you, faux innocence on his face along with your juices still shining on the bottom half of his face.

“What? I want seconds.” He shrugs, adding a second finger which has you cursing, senses on overdrive. Joshua’s plush lips are back on your clit, sucking the nub into his mouth, ignoring the way your nails dig into his hair again, tugging on his soft locks. 

“Ngh, Josh-Joshua! Please!”

“Please what, baby?” He mumbles, lips still suckling on your clit, your legs quivering as they rest on his shoulders. His fingers have no trouble finding that soft squishy spot inside of you that has your eyes crossing, the squelching sound of your wetness ringing in your ears.

“I’m - I just…” You trail off when your boyfriend curls his fingers, the overstimulation derailing your train of thought as you feel another orgasm hurdling toward you. Joshua smirks up at you, loving the way he can literally watch as your brain short-circuits for him - because of him.

His lips go back to your clit, suctioning around the bud. His fingers delve into you faster, your velvety walls hugging his digits, coating them in more of your sticky arousal. Sweat beads at your hairline and tears prick your eyes as Joshua throws you into another orgasm, electricity coursing through your veins and a choked, desperate cry of Joshua’s name tumbling from your lips. 

“Yeah, just like that, good girl.” He purrs against your overworked pussy, slowly dragging his fingers out of you. You whimper at the loss, only for the sound to be replaced by a loud wail, Joshua’s slick fingers rubbing rough, frantic circles against your clit. 

“Shit! Fuck, Shua I’m - fuuuck!”

“Come on baby girl, one more. Make a mess all over the fucking counter.” The pads of his fingers drag against your clit, body arching as you flail your hands, scrambling across the marble of the counter looking for something to ground you.

The sensation borders on painful, the sensitivity too much to handle as the pleasure builds and your muscles spasm. When you cum this time, it knocks the wind out of you, your eyes rolling back, your mouth open in a silent scream. Joshua leans down, eyes watching with glee as you squirt all over his hand and arm, getting your mixture of arousal on his shirt. He even cranes his head down, mouth open to drink up the remaining spurts of your release.

He rubs lazy circles over your puffy clit, letting you ride out the rest of your orgasm until your hoarse voice begs him to stop and he does, but not before wiping up as much of your wetness as he can on his fingers and popping them into his mouth once again.

“Fucking hell, Shua!” You huff out when you’ve finally sucked enough air back into your lungs.

“What? I told you I was starving.” His cocky grin earns him a half-hearted kick to his shoulder using the minuscule amount of energy you have remaining. He catches your leg, placing a soft kiss on your ankle before he straightens up and sits back to admire your ruined state.

“Are you going to help me up or leave me here for the rest of the day?” 

“I should eat all of my meals in the kitchen, but I suppose I can help you down.” Joshua laughs at your half-hearted threat to kick him again and offers his hands to you. He helps you sit upright and slowly slides you off of the island. 

When you’re back on shaky feet, you move to pick your bottoms up, but he stops you by pulling you against him.

“Wh-”

“Oh, you don’t need those. I’m gonna order some lunch for us, but I need dessert before it gets here.” He presses his hips forward, his rock-hard dick pressing against your ass. Joshua once again envelops you in his warm embrace, lips skirting against the shell of your ear. “That okay with you, baby?”

Between the orgasms he pushed out of you only minutes ago and the dip in his voice, wetness collects between your legs again, pussy clenching at the thought of Joshua fucking you for real.

“That’s more than okay with me,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “I’m feeling pretty empty myself and am dying to be stuffed.”

[kooki914]

I'm beginning to go through severe Deltarune withdrawal, so I made this handy dandy template everyone can use to make predictions! Both for things they WANT to see, as well as things they DON'T want to see (if there's any unpopular opinions you have about prev chapters, this is the place to air it out LMAOO)

I included the blank image above, but if you're working in something like paint it might help to instead get the version with a background, or if you prefer, I have layered versions for Photoshop and Paint dot net as well!

If you use this template, feel free to @ me here on tumblr so I can see your own cards, and please don't erase my name from the title or anything like that, just add your own where the "Y/N" at the bottom is. Oh, and I made custom stamps for using the bingo when the time inevitably comes.

Happy bingo making!

[wondroustailsofffxiv]

There is a re-occurring quest of sorts in Final Fantasy XIV called ‘Wondrous Tails’, and it is given to you in Idyllshire by a young Miqo’te named Khloe Aliapoh. Specifically, she gives you an empty journal and asks you to write down the stories of your past and future adventures so that she can share them with everyone she meets!

By re-completing past content, you can earn stickers in order to make lines across a card in a style similar to bingo, with each finished line netting all sorts of prizes once the journal is turned in. In much the same way, ‘Wondrous Tails of FFXIV’ is a multi-month event that utilizes a prompt-filled bingo card format in order to encourage participants to tell the stories in an environment with minimal restrictions and maximum possibilities.

This event is open to both visual and written media, and anyone that participates with at least one valid entry is entered for a raffle that takes place after the end of the event. However, participants do not need to worry about raffle entries or its few restrictions if all they'd like to do is take part and have fun!

> The next iteration of Wondrous Tails of FFXIV will start on March 15th and end on June 15th! <

For more information about the event, start/end dates and whatnot, please check out the links found below!

About | FAQ | Rules | Bingo Card Template | AO3 | Carrd | Picker Wheel Links

[mamawasatesttube]

10 for timkon from my favorite timkon writer, please? if u have the time?

10. "I won't let you."

“Go away,” Kon pleads.

His voice is raw, his breath rasping in his throat; he’s crouched amid the rubble, hidden behind a half-demolished wall, all curled up with his knees tucked to his chest. He’s clutching his head so hard his knuckles are pale. Tim looks at him for a long moment, thinking.

If Kon really wanted to, he could push him away with a brush of TTK, could prevent him from taking a single step closer. But he’s too terrified of himself to even think about using his powers on Tim right now. It’s funny—just half an hour ago, before the attack started, he was laughing as he rotated Tim in the air (“See, Bart, it’s a ro-Tim-sserie! Get it?!”).

Tim steps closer. “No.”

Kon scrabbles backwards, his back hitting the dusty corner. “Get—get back! It’s not safe, Rob, please!”

“I’m perfectly safe here.” Tim keeps his voice level as he plops down on the ruined floor next to Kon. “It’s just you and me.”

Kon’s face twists with anguish. “Yeah, that’s the problem—I know you’re not this stupid! She—she tried to m-mind control me, and—and I barely fought it off! What if—if—”

He breaks off for a second, his chest heaving with barely-controlled panic. Tim’s heart aches, just from watching him.

“I could hurt you. Again. Or—or worse—Rob, you have to leave, because—because if I kill you I’ll never, ever forgive myself, I—I’d probably just k—”

“Kon-El.” A note of sternness creeps into Tim’s voice. It does the trick; Kon’s panicked rambles choke off before he finishes that sentence. They both know what he was going to say. “You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Kon’s eyes flick up to meet his, a flash of inhuman blue. All too quickly, though, they drop back to the dust-strewn floor, and Kon bites his lip. “…How’re you so certain?”

“Because,” Tim says, as though it’s simple. It is simple. “I won’t let you.”

Kon inhales sharply. A look of shock, then incredible relief smooths over his features, and he lets out a slow breath, leaning his head back against the wall. “You have kryptonite? God, Robbie, you shoulda led with that, I—it’s a lot easier knowing you could put me down if you have to—”

Tim whips around on him, glaring with the full force of his cowl. His friends joke about it, but the thing is pretty damn unsettling when he needs it to be. And right now, he needs it to be. “Put you down?” he hisses, horror rippling through his stomach and radiating all the way down his legs. “I would never.”

Stunned, Kon stares at him, lips slightly parted, eyes too bright. As Tim watches, his lower lip wobbles just a touch. “I… then what do you mean, you… you won’t let me?”

Oh, for the love of—

Tim reaches for him. Cups his face in his gloved hands, strokes his thumbs over Kon’s cheekbones, and pulls him closer. Presses their foreheads together, cups the back of Kon’s neck. Kon’s eyes are wide as he stares into Tim’s; Tim counts it as a victory that he doesn’t try to pull away.

“How did you fight the spell off earlier?” He rubs his thumb over the back of Kon’s neck, aching inside where it can’t show. Kon doesn’t understand just how precious he is. Maybe that’s Tim’s fault, for struggling to tell him out loud often enough. He’ll work on it.

Kon sucks in a breath. Bites his lip. He still doesn’t pull away. “I… thought really hard about… being my own person,” he finally mumbles. “And about—about what I fight for. What I wanna protect.”

“Bingo.” Tim smiles at him, pets his cheek. “And what do you want to protect? Wouldn’t having it right there make it easier to fight her off again, if she even got the chance to try?”

Kon’s eyes widen. He sucks in a breath, and his lower lip wobbles again. There’s a smear of dust on his cheek from Tim’s glove. Tim tenderly thumbs it away.

“Oh,” Kon whispers, and then—

A net of TTK wraps around Tim and hauls him into Kon’s lap, and then Kon’s arms wrap around his waist as Kon buries his face in his neck. Tim can feel him trembling.

There we go, Tim thinks, pleased. He cradles Kon’s head to himself, strokes the back of his neck again. “See?” he asks. “I told you. Perfectly safe.”

“You have got to stop ruining sweet moments by saying ‘I told you so,’” Kon mumbles into his neck.

Tim laughs, squeezing Kon’s shoulder. Just like that, he knows—his clone boy will be okay.  

[channieskies]

𝕴: 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖊

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)

Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy

AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU

Word count: 3408 [Reading time: 14 Minutes ]

Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society

Synopsis: Discouraged after a breakup and eviction. You return home to New Orleans just to find out the life you have been living has been a lie. Maybe all those scary stories your grandmother told you as a child were indeed true.

CHAPTER INDEX

You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?” 

A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

If anyone asked you how life was going, you in turn would have to reply, “Fuck my life! This is complete and utter bullshit.” The large eviction notice sitting on your apartment door in bright red letters, set your face aflame for many reasons. One; Embarrassment. Two; Disbelief. Three; Now you were fucking homeless. The only evidence of your two years of living here was scattered amongst trash in the hallway. A few of your nosier neighbors stood outside their doors to watch the dismantling of your life (and quite possibly your mental health) unfold in the sweltering heat of the swampy Louisiana summer. “Fuck, where the hell do I go..” You asked yourself under your breath. Being homeless was not on this year's bingo card.

Sweat trickled down your neck, a bead slowly making its way down the center of your back. Your nerves were frazzled. You pat your pocket for a cigarette, just to be reminded that you didn’t have any, it was just an old habit you couldn’t shake. You heaved a heavy sigh and picked up what was left of your life -a few boxes of clothes and the picture of you and your mother and did the walk of shame down the long open corridor. Aside from the other two boxes you needed to get, this would be one of the last times you’d get to walk this oh so familiar hall. But maybe it would be a good thing that you didn’t live here anymore. So many of the memories here were shared between you and your ex here. so. Maybe you could escape the constant reminders of what used to be.

Some of the neighbors that peeked out the doors gave you sympathetic smiles but one woman hid her child's face from you so that they wouldn’t know what failure looked like, at least that's what you felt like to you. The lady you regarded as your apartment grandma, just shook her head as she tsked at you and that hurt almost as much as being put out of the place you called your home. The walk to your old beat up car felt like the longest mile. This must be what it feels like to be given the death penalty. Doom. Dred. 

This was an actual existential crisis. Where did you go from here? What do you do? What other choices do you have but to travel back to the place you thought you’d long left behind? That was your dilemma now. The box weighed heavy in your arms, making it feel as if you were trudging through sludge on the way to your car; or that could have just been your shoes actually melting against the blacktop. Who knows?

You could certainly feel the heat from the asphalt through the hole in your five dollar, bargain bin, walmart sandals as you put the lone box on the roof of your hatchback. Sighing, you traced your fingers over the dented roof of your rust colored 1982 ford fiesta. Life has been kicking your ass these last few months. First, you went through the biggest breakup of your life. Two years of wasted time, spent with a man who did nothing but lie, cheat, gaslight, and isolate you from the people you loved the most. He was a dick and you were better off without him, all but financially. You depended on his half of the rent, because the cost of living, even in this piss poor, podunk town with a population just over five-thousand, was astronomically high. Even living here in a motel turned into an apartment, if you could even call it that, was out of your budget by almost six hundred dollars. You fucking shared a kitchen with all the other apartments, for some fucking reason there was no elevator, and yet rent couldn’t be reasonable? 

Second, you'd lost your job. According to your boss, two flat tires wasn't an excuse not to get to work on time. You barely made it through the door before he promptly fired you and sent you on your way. You scooped ice cream. It wasn’t like you were doing life saving surgery or nurturing the young minds of the future. There was no need to fire the best employee they had, just because you couldn’t get there on time. You had a spotless attendance record other than that. For fucks sake! You’d shown up sick (masked up), and worked through it. And when your grandfather died, you showed up to work and took the almost three hour drive home to be with your mother after the fact. But missing two hours of work for your tires to be changed? That was the breaking point? You hated this god-forsaken town and its dumb as fuck residents. The sun felt like it had beef with you today too, much like your landlord, ex, and former boss, it was beating down on you relentlessly. “Fuck, dude, do I owe you money too?” You cast your gaze towards the sky, asking it a question like it had the balls to answer it.

“No. Well- at least I don’t think you do.” Your body tensed at the voice that spoke a few feet away from where you stood. You knew it, all too well in fact. It belonged to one of the people that you loved the most, but pushed away for your scumbag of an ex. You hadn’t seen him around these parts in a while, even though he had been frequenting the town long before you moved there. It was like he felt you were in distress deep down and decided to show up. Or maybe you were just hoping that was the case. You didn’t dare turn around, feeling the sorrow overtake you, even if you could hear the smile in his warm voice. 

“But you do owe me an explanation. If that counts.” 

Your shoulders dropped, you knew he was right. You put your best smile on and turned around to greet him. You could fake happiness for a few minutes. You’d been doing it for months now, what were a few more moments? Your eyes nearly bugged out your head, it has been a few months, but did people change that drastically? Have you changed that drastically?

“Chr- what? Loo-Look at you.” You couldn’t contain the shock you felt seeing his appearance. He had always been muscular, but never this buff. He was always on the lean side, always athletic, now it looked like he could lift your car with you and your boxes in it. He wasn't any taller, but he's filled out tremendously since the last time you saw him at your grandfather's funeral almost a year ago. “Ho-how?” 

There was no reason to ask if he'd been working out, it was pretty obvious half his free time was spent in the gym somewhere and the other in the tattoo parlor. He’d gone from someone who only had thoughts of getting a tattoo, to someone whose arms were completely covered in them. You stood there awkwardly gawking at the man, unsure of if it was appropriate to hug your old friend or not. Or if this was even your old friend or not, his face was the same, but everything else seemed like he body swapped with someone with a bit more edge to them. He was far from the goody-two-shoes, curly-haired, dimpled, student athlete you’d met at freshman orientation.

He laughed, tossing the two boxes you left upstairs next to the other  on your roof before enveloping you in a hug that warmed you from the outside in. It was too hot to be this close, sharing body heat, but somehow you didn't mind since it was him. 

“I've missed you.” He squeezed you so tight you felt like you might pop. You had forgotten how much comfort you'd get from hugging your best friend. He was the epitome of a warm home with the fireplace burning. He always smelled of ginger and sea water, like a day on the beach with fruity spritzers somewhere in the sunny land of Australia that he hailed from. One thing you never forgot about Chris was how he had the kindest eyes that contrasted perfectly with his large nose and equally pouty lips making his face uniquely his. No one looked or smelled like Chris to you. He was him, no one else compared.

You were suspended in his arms for what felt like forever. Only the tips on your toes were planted on the ground as he held you tightly to his body. He only decided to put you down when you cleared your throat out of awkwardness. He chuckled lightly, the sound of it rumbling in your chest as he gently sat you back down. 

“It's been a while.. hasn't it?” you mumbled. Why were you being so weird about this? Your voice didn’t even sound like your own. Why the hell would you even say something stupid like that? Of course it had been a while. It was your fault you lost contact in the first place. He tried for months to get a hold of you, but you dodged him and his attempts to get you. Your ex justified you cutting your college best friend off with "I don't like the way he looks at you. It's like he could and would eat you up. Then he looks at me like he wants to kill me.” Looking back at it now, it was probably for good reason. Chris always had a good read on people, your ex was now included in that.

“A while? That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?” He raised an eyebrow. He had gone from someone you saw damn near everyday to this being the first time you'd seen him in almost a year. Pushing away your refuge and comfort person was the biggest mistake you'd made in this life, besides dating any of your scuzzball exes of course. “A year, give or take a few weeks maybe. It's been almost a year since we've last seen each other.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to reassure you, “But all that matters is where we go from here, yeah? I would love to be petty and say that you’ll have to spend the rest of your life making it up to me, but since you no longer have a place to stay that isn’t your moms…let's start off a new chapter.” 

He cleared his throat and took a step back from you. His shadow casted over you, giving you some relief from the scorching summer sun. A gentle breeze blew past, sweeping his seaside scent over your senses, transporting you to a better time and place where all of your time was spent in the comfort of his presence. He made you feel at peace, even if you knew your life had gone to complete shit over the last year. He made you forget about all your misfortunes. 

“Hi, I'm Christopher. I wanted to offer you a helping hand, since you have all these boxes. Would you like me to help you put them in your car?” 

You giggled, it felt like the first time you'd met him all over again. His accent sounded just as thick, his eyes shining just as bright, his smile just as warm as it was all those years ago. You dotted your forehead with the back of your arm in an attempt to get at least some of the sweat off, then rubbed it on your ripped jeans. You extended your hand, taking his much bigger one in yours. His hands were always so warm and this handshake was no exception. You slowly shook hands as if this was the first time you’d ever done so.

“It’s nice to meet you, Christopher. I’m Y/N.” You couldn’t help the smile that painted your face, maybe this was as good of time as any to start anew with your old friend. 

“You mean to tell me, you want me to believe you gave up all that money and your corporate job, to… teach?” He laughed, his lopsided dimples showing as he stuffed a few fries in his mouth. He’d convinced you to go get lunch with him at some out of town diner. It was on the road back to New Orleans and right now you’d do anything to get out of this shithole you were currently occupying space in. Running into your ex wasn’t something you even wanted to think about, let alone do. It’d be best to go back home to where you came from. Then at least you wouldn’t be living in your car or going through the trash of places like this after closing looking for food. Plus, Chris was back home. What was a better incentive than that?

He leaned back in his seat, “Yeah. Not long after your grandpa’s funeral I did a few volunteer hours at this home for disadvantaged youth. That led to me traveling to a few different warring countries to help build shelters and teach the youth some valuable skills.” He shrugged, “I found out that I loved it. Helping to mold youth with my own hands. They are the future after all.” 

You rolled your eyes, there goes that goody-two-shoes act. He hadn’t changed as much as you thought. “I took a month off work to decide if that was really what I wanted to do, and the rest is history.” He sipped his strawberry milkshake before speaking again, “What about you? Huh?”

You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?” 

He nodded for you to continue. You chewed on your lip, fearing that honesty was going to make you seem far more pitiful than you were trying to let off. “Shit has been bad since I left New Orleans.” you paused to take a breath, feeling like the weight that had been dragging you down for over a year now was slowly being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I miss my mom, my friends, you…” You sighed, “I miss the city and all the shit we used to get into, the fucking food..” You had been pushing the food around on your plate for the last ten minutes, how the fuck did they mess up a club sandwich and fries? Plus your coke was flat and scarily see through. 

“I have to admit.. The food here used to be better.” His words sparked a memory. He did travel down to St. Martinville quite a lot back in college. You never knew the reason, it wasn’t like he had family here. “How about this- since this was my suggestion in the first place, I’ll pay for the bill..” He was going to do that in the first place, you knew him. Even if it had been a transformative year for him, he was still the same Christopher. “Then, when you get settled and back at home, you can treat me to a meal.” He leaned in as if he had a big secret to tell, “I still have a weak spot for your cooking, if you want to go that route and skip going out all together. That would also prevent me from purposely ordering the most expensive thing on the menu out of spite.” 

You laughed, appreciating his understanding of your current financial predicament. You had enough to get gas on your way back to New Orleans, but that was about it. There were moths in your bank account with how bare it was at this point.

“Cook you a meal? Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You agreed, almost too easily. “It’s been a while since I flexed in the kitchen, though. My boy-,” You sighed, you still hadn’t gotten used to saying what your relationship with that man was now that you were no longer together. “My ex didn’t like cajun or southern food very much. Truthfully, he didn’t like anything with seasoning or didn’t come from a fast food restaurant or out of a bag.” 

You started to play with the food on your plate once again as you recounted your experience, “Last time I cooked for him, he said it was too spicy and that I was trying to poison him. He got so angry he threw the plate and it dented the drywall. His issues are why I’m not getting anything back on that stupid deposit. That and my late rent..” You felt annoyed. Why had you put up with your ex and his foolishness? He was a paranoid man child with anger issues and you sat by and let him treat you poorly, expecting that one day he might change. He didn’t, he was incapable of doing that, it wasn’t in him.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s in the past and we will leave him there. You can get back to being the old you, find whatever parts of you that you feel went missing since you left town. You know I’ll have your back through it all.” Chris always had a way of lifting your spirits, making you feel as if everything could be alright, even if the current circumstances said otherwise. “It’s a long drive back home, you should get going.” He grabbed your hand over the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Wait- aren’t you coming back with me?” He shook his head, looking down at his hand on yours, thumb tracing patterns on your skin. He took a moment before he spoke as if thinking deeply about what he wanted to say before uttering a word.

“I have a few things here to take care of here and after that, I’ll be back. I won’t give you time to miss me, I promise.” 

You couldn’t help the shy smile that graced your face at his words. “I’ll just be here overnight and then I’m heading back.” He sat back again, fingers slowly slipping away from yours to rest on his lap. “That will give you time to settle back into your old room. You know your mom hasn’t touched it since you moved.” 

You chuckled, she was a sucker for nostalgia. If she felt that was a way to keep a part of her baby with her, then she could rightfully do that. “So come up with a meal plan. I’ll pick you up when I get back tomorrow and we can go grocery shopping and I’ll introduce you to my roommates.” Chris had been living alone the whole time you’d known him. It had something to do with his allergies or something of that nature. Why all of a sudden did he have roommates?

“Oh? Is this the same guy who didn’t want to live off campus with me because of ���allergies?’ That you?” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders before looking you square in the eyes and answering. 

“Couldn’t shack up with the girl I like, now could I?” Did your heart just flutter? You shook it off. Brushing his comment off as just a flirty little joke. Christopher was a flirt, even if he’d vehemently deny it if you asked.

“Please.” You laughed, “The girl you liked? You must be referring to Suzy. Wait- no, Rebekkah with two ‘k's’.” You mocked the girl's annoyingly chipper voice while waving two fingers in the air like she used to when telling people how to spell her name. “Wait- no, not her either. What was her name? Oh Kimberly, the red head with the thick thighs and fat ass. You had the hots for her so bad you tripped over your own feet looking at her, not just once either. Didn’t you break your laptop like that?” His cheeks tinted with a soft shade of pink.

“You said you wouldn’t bring that back up!” He whined. This tattooed, buff, grown man just whined. And you couldn’t deny, it was cute as shit.

CHAPTER INDEX ⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER

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