#oh wait i forgot the big kicker

[yourplaceinaugust]

i have somehow managed to pull two different people???? like there was a girl i was friends with who told me she was very into me and i didn't realize. and then there is a guy that ive been texting and i have been informed today that that guy is trying to hook up with me and ive been accidentally making him think im interested???????

[octuscle]

Hi, so I was setting up chronivac when the app asked about my interests to get my personality. I wrote about how I like comicons and marvel superheros and their costumes and then forgot about it, at least until something strange started to happen. Now it's been all day that my clothes feel tighter and tighter and I know this seems weird, but they are becoming spandex? I just wanted to get more fit and confident and I'm really not sure what's happening!

Alright, dude, listen up: looks like there's a bit of a mix-up. You forgot to fill in your interests, so instead, your wishes got all jumbled up and set off some wild changes when you hit 'Save'. But hey, no sweat, we'll sort it out.

So, yeah, your clothes are getting tighter, which was part of the plan, right? Almost everything's spandex now, and your closet's packed with sports gear and superhero costumes. And the other reason for the tightness? Your muscles are blowing up, man.

But here's the kicker: maybe you didn't think this through entirely. I mean, you can't exactly roll into work wearing a Spiderman suit, can you? Though I gotta say, you look smokin' hot in it! Ever thought about a gig as a bike messenger? Keeps you in shape, and nobody bats an eye at skin-tight gear when you're on a bike. I've even got one waiting for you in the hallway.

Now, about those superhero costumes... with your new bod, they don't really match your vibe anymore. But how about a new hustle? Try being a living statue in the pedestrian zone. It fits the look, and trust me, I'd toss some cash your way. Oh, and to sweeten the deal, I'm adding a few inches to your package. Nothing like a big bulge in spandex, right?

Now, I hope you get that this is above and beyond normal support, but hey, I kinda dig you, so I'm going the extra mile. Spandex-only isn't cool, but skin-tight is the move. I'm tossing in some motorcycle suits and even parked a Ducati outside for you. Have a blast and stay sleek, bro!

[videogametako]

steam next fest feb 2024: aeruta

saw this, action platformer with anime girl, cool. link here

https://store.steampowered.com/app/2286780/Aeruta/

it had a bread theme to it too and in hindsight, the bakery half of the game should've been expected.

overview

so chaya is an adventurer in training who's apparently on probation and taking an exam. on her way to complete the quest she encounters an oven that explodes on her, effie thinks it's chaya's fault (naturally) and hijinks ensue.

by hijinks i mean she hires you to work for her bakery. the place she needs ingredients from is coincidentally where chaya needs to go for her quest, so she goes and does both at the same time yay.

effie is cute and kinda dumb

mechanics

this game has snappy combat, it'd probs be much better on controller (fingers hurt). you have a dodge too. one thing i particularly liked is the "drive" mechanic

proud for this action screenshot

you press x to hook an enemy towards you. the kicker is that you can hold forward + x to move toward the enemy instead. this is the main reason for why i find the combat so snappy. you can either isolate and pick off a mob or close the gap and engage a horde, and it's super intuitive with the way it's implemented (i mean, button press or button plus direction)

eventually you get heals. it's a really quick heal too but you can't restock any (at least as far as i got, a little <1 hr). dodges are important because you don't heal between stages. oh yeah this is a branching dungeon type kinda game (not too sure what the genre is called specifically)

combat gets very repetitive, though it's a demo so i expected that at least. overall, pretty good though i think. chaya feels really good to play.

i'll mention the bakery part in the next section

gameplay loop

the two main parts of the game are the "quest " and the "town" part as i'll be referring to them now.

the quest part is the whole dungeon combat action stuff. you advance chaya's career and farm materials to cook bread and upgrade the bakery. that's pretty much it i think, at least for now.

the town part is where you sell bread. it goes: wait for effie to bake > take bread > place bread on counter (button) > check out customer order (you do this ddr minigame of 2-4 arrow key presses) > clean up litter > repeat. it feels like it's missing something, but i think it's passable if you're not doing it too often (you can't dash indoors sadly)

effie gives you a calendar where on some days some types of bread sell better so you typically aim to open up shop on those days while you farm on every other day, at least that's what it feels like you should be doing because the bread takes a fair amount of mob drops to make

oh yeah you can upgrade your bakery from this architect cutie after you pay your debt to them, that would probs help in making the bakery feel better to play (no i didn't have any more gold to spend)

aesthetics

the sprites feel a bit stiff, but honestly the animations are extremely charming (especially effie's, she's so animated (i have no gif to offer, sorry)). OH also the architect (i already forgot name, bollie or something) was missing a walk cycle animation for one of the cutscenes lol. honestly they're pretty good as stills but definitely feeling lackluster as idle animations (still no gifs). enemies looked a lot better in terms of animation, and combat stuff was passable i think.

anime aesthetic i also like, oh and the enemies are admittedly cute and goofy (hate those crabs, they're annoying to fight (both types))

found a screenshot, i was one letter away

now, the music is pretty good. a few tracks felt reminiscent of touhou, i enjoyed listening to em. the boss had uh, well it's audio felt broken sometimes. feels like its attack sounds just cut out unnaturally. well, it's a demo, so not too big of a deal i think

closing thoughts

this game has a lot of promise i think, i recall recettear when playing this. it's obvs not recettear but i was reminded of it, except aeruta has a lot more action elements. i'm excited to see more of the quest part honestly, weapons, abilities (though not sure what can top drive unless it just straight up has better numbers) and maybe characters too. the town part too to a lesser extent, but it's fun in its own right.

i think their art direction has a solid foundation (it's the standard pixel anime stuff, nothing too groundbreaking) but could use a bit more refinement. more dynamic idles, the sound design on that boss please it bothered me please be broken so the devs can fix it i don't know how i'll fight it knowing that's how it's supposed to sound like orz

i'm looking forward to see where this game leads, i have wishlisted it on steam, and maybe if it sounds nice you can go wishlist it too it helps the devs

[thrilloffirstlove]

Man radiating pure malice "hangs out" with world's best distraction, INSTANTLY regrets it

I don't know I just want to see if I could write about Rick while the tone does what it wants. Enjoy

"Yeah well what if. I did the time warp."

"...Pardon?" Rick was starting to grow just a tad bored with Simms games. Sure, he was having fun watching it nervous and hoping that it was doing a good job. But did he really need to be putting this much effort into making sure it didn't try anything? As it was turning out, not really.

"Jump to left, right, bring knees in tight- and this is the kicker: pelvic thrust, in order to drive parents and whoever insane!" It was such a wide eyed little thing. A cog in a machine, in a literal sense. "Ta-da, there. Pelvic thrust is the kicker, and so that's why the emphasis is on that part."

"Hm. Cute."

"That's it? Wait, really that's all?"

"...You also forgot to point out the jazz hands at the end."

"Th- Those were not actually part of the dance, and therefore did not need to be called out." Simms tilted it's head with an audible crack. "But really, are you disappointed?"

"Like I said: Cute." Rick kicked at the ground beneath, for no other reason than to maybe signal Simms to action. "Though the stalling is starting to drag on a bit."

"I thought- Wasn't stalling my whole point? Like... I don't know. I'm still getting a headache from thinking about that part."

"Eh. It's best you don't think that hard about it."

"Oh?" Why Simms voice would heighten so much, Rick didn't know. "Oh? Oh? Oh? Oh? Oh?"

With each little 'oh' Simms voice got farther and farther away from where it started, not to mention how it's distance from Rick just seemed to randomly generate without losing any volume. A neat little trick.

When it's voice finally went back to normal, it was right in front of Rick. There was barely enough room to put one arm between the two. "What's that, Rickie? You gave me actual, helpful advice?? Oh, why that's just splendid and neat and-" Simms quickly devolved into a fit of jibbering and giggling, it's hands making a motion not unlike tickling.

"God, this is such a rare occasion, I- I don't know what to say, I..."

"Was the use of the word 'god' intentional?"

"No but uh- Oh! Quick, right or left?"

"What for?" Rick was one to smile a lot, but could you blame him when THIS was how Simms chose to act around him? It was like when a bee lands on your leg because your sock was bright enough. Simms would love that metaphor, he thought- or at least part of him did. He was trying to focus on more... important matters happening elsewhere, as fun as Simms was to watch.

"Ok uhmmmm, I'll just choose the right one!"

Simms pulled at his hand, bringing it closer to it's face. And- Good Lord was he not prepared for this.

Not that Rick had been seriously compromised, or that it would look like much to anyone other than him. It was just a little bit concerning how much eye contact Simms made as it kissed his hand. Complete with an audible- forced if you will- 'mwah' sound.

"...Well, that was a sweet gesture." He hated how much his voice cracked, it was making him sound so amateur. He shouldn't be this surprised by something this small, this inconsequential. "Why though?"

"I already- You're not normally that helpful- or reassuring take your pick- with words?? It's a thing people do in mobster movies to da big boss???"

Rick just kind of looked at it funny. How many times had it chosen to explain things by correlating it to media? Although it was not the worst thing Simms could do, it always took a bit to go and see what it was talking about. Just to make sense of the whole thing.

"Don't play that dumb."

"What, you mean I can't give big scary ice cream man a little treat for being nice???? Did you- not like it?"

"Simms. You're still holding my hand."

"Oh well- do you want me to stop or-"

"You would know if I wanted you to stop." Rick gripped Simms hand hard. Very hard, but just for the emphasis of threats. That was what this was, wasn't it? Like how brood parasites impersonate the young of other birds in order to feed off of the food the parents bring. Simms liked to categorize that under 'supernormal stimuli', where creatures evolved to favor certain traits will prefer unrelated and often invasive noises, sounds, plants... All due to said evolution.

...He should probably make sure that he didn't break it's hand. Just in case.

"Ah. That was scary."

"And you're still cute. I've said it before and I will say it now: You're cute. Don't let anything tell you otherwise."

"Erm... Ok. What the fuck does that mean."

"Do not catch me off guard again. I'll say that much."

"Should I remove my hand? I'm sorry I-"

"Nope!" Rick took a moment to properly lace his fingers in-between Simms's. It would be terrible, just terrible if it stopped trying to engage him now! "Didn't you have other things you needed to show me?"

"Uhm." Simms blinked, trilling in a manner that was as far away from trilling as you could get away with. "Yeah the bone thing. That's why I, y'know, started talking and whatnot. Not in general, just…"

"How about I lead and you just give the directions, eh?"

Simms nodded, whilst somehow looking towards the ground at the same time.

A good thing, he found it was weird when it made eye contact. It could be considered weird when anything wasn't "behaving the way it should". Of course, there were so many more specifics that could be added. That kind of definition, as it were, would make Rick fall into the same category as Simms just now...

Cause...

He should focus on important matters more often.

[suganovakawa]

A scenario of reader getting jealous when a girl try’s to shoot her shot with bokuto? ❤️

AHHHHH YES jealous scenarios are MUAH and i get to write about kou ??? ugh yes i do b blessed doe

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 .

PAIRINGS : koutarou bokuto x fem! reader

GENRE : fluff , slight comedy

SYNOPSIS : you’ve been wanting to confess your feelings to the happy-go-lucky ace of fukurodani for a while , but every time the opportunity presents itself , you chicken out . you’ve gotten motivation to try again once more — but all of a sudden you overhear someone else wanting to confess to bokuto ? not on your watch !

word count : 2.4k

— check out my masterlist !!

a / n : WOOOOOOO i love bokuto unconditionally; needless to say, this was much much much fun to write!

⠀you were a hopeless mess.

⠀yet again, you failed to do the one, the one thing you've been wanting to do for the entire school year. you slumped away in shame as bokuto found his way back to akaashi, the two males soon walking away to volleyball practice.

⠀today was supposed to be the day, dammit!

⠀you were finally going to confess your feelings to him!

⠀everything went so smoothly until you chickened out; today was the perfect day to tell koutarou how you felt about him. the plan you set up for yourself was perfect - hook, line and sinker. the kicker was, you pulled too early and didn't get a catch. your eyes had closed once you were outside of fukurodani, your hands making way to your face as you muffled your yell of disappointment.

⠀your friends were gonna get a kick out of this one tomorrow.

⠀they placed a bet on this time today, all of them fed up of you chickening out countless of times. oh, the amount of yen you owed them tomorrow. they thought for sure that with money on the line, you'd step into shape and gather the guts to make the confession quick. it didn't matter if kou accepted your feelings or not - god, you really hoped he would - you just needed to finally step up and do it already.

⠀you felt kinda stupid, just standing in front of your school after hours. you had no reason to be there - none of the teachers were able to stay after school today, so you couldn't just camp out in a classroom and wait for a second wind to confess. at least, try to confess.

⠀koutarou bokuto was literally the most easy going person anyone could ever meet. the positive energy levels he possessed were through the roof; it was contagious, too - he hardly ever failed to make anyone smile, regardless of who they were, and how they were previously feeling. at least, that's how you managed to fall for the ace of fukurodani - you happened to bump into him after one of the worst days in history, and all it took to make you smile again was a couple of jokes and a "HEY HEY HEY" before he patted you on the shoulder and ran off for practice.

⠀your eyes caught a glimpse of long hair sneaking by you, a box of chocolates in her hand as she entered the school stealthily. if you hadn't noticed her eye from the corner of your eye, you probably wouldn't have noticed her creeping by you. your lips pressed together as she disappeared into the school, and something didn't feel right.

⠀chocolate was associated with love.

⠀with valentine's day.

⠀as a stress reliever.

⠀as a way to win someone over.

⠀was she going to confess to someone?

⠀your e/c eyes widened as it hit, she was going to confess to someone! she clearly had more guts than you; she'd probably end up doing it. but who was she going to confess to? there were hardly any others at school after hours today, besides the volleyball team.

⠀your stomach dropped. was she going to confess to someone on the volleyball team?

⠀even worse - was she going to confess to bokuto?

⠀oh no.

⠀no no no no no.

⠀before you could start thinking rationally, your worries got to you as you turned, your legs moving into a nervous jog as you brought yourself back inside of fukurodani. this was your big break, you couldn't let that happen. you were the one who was going to confess to bokuto, not anyone else! your jogging soon turned to sprinting, your mind figuring out where that girl was, and how you were either going to stop her, or find koutarou first.

⠀you then stopped abruptly. what the hell were you gonna do next?

⠀what, were you going to confess your feelings for him, or something?

⠀your second wind was already dying down, and you hadn't even stood face to face with bokuto yet. throwing in the towel already seemed like the easier option, to let that girl confess to your beloved owl boy and watch them have their happy ending.

⠀"y/n?" your thoughts paused as you turned around to see akaashi himself, looking at you quizically as you just stood in the middle of the hallway. "why are you still here? practice just ended."

⠀"it did?" were you really in a daze outside for that long you didn't even realize how much time passed? "oh! i, uhm, forgot something in a classroom. i just came back quickly to get it, that's all." you looked around for a few seconds before turning back to keiji once more. "where's bokuto? he's usually with you, right?"

⠀"oh, him." he chuckled, bringing a hand up to support the bag over his shoulders. "i promised him i'd wait outside; he's currently with some girl, she wanted to talk to him right after practice. knowing him, he'll probably be out pretty quickly. he'll reject her as he rejects everyone else."

⠀"reject?" your heart sunk at the word alone. "you mean, she's confessing to him right now?"

⠀"oh, yeah. she actually spoke to me earlier today, wanted to make sure that bokuto was available after practice to confess. i was the one who recommended she give him chocolates, too." he stopped speaking for a few moments, before a small smile took over his lips at the very obvious sight of your distress. "bokuto and that girl are right in front of the gym, just down the hall - in front of the main doors. in case you're here for... other purposes."

⠀your mind went blank. "huh?"

⠀"it's not my place to pry, so that's all i have to really say." his usually stoic eyes held a glint of something mischievous as he shrugged. "in my honest opinion, y/n - you have a much better chance of confessing than she does. just saying." he waved to you before walking away. "good luck, now."

⠀that second wind blew you over the moment keiji disappeared outside of the school. you had to get there, to koutarou. now.

⠀you were a bit flustered that akaashi read you like a book, but it worked in your favor as your legs gained the momentum to sprint to their location, your breath caught in your throat as you hid behind a set of lockers, right near where you overheard a mostly one-sided conversation going on.

⠀"i really hope you like these chocolates, bokuto! i bought them especially for you, i heard these ones are your favorites!"

⠀"you don't say, huh? well, thank you very much!"

⠀"and there's something else i wanted to tell you, too! i-if you'd let me, that is."

⠀your breathing shortened as a whole. this was it. she was going to do it.

⠀"oh, sure! just be quick though, akaashi is waiting for me outside."

⠀"i-i've liked you for a while, bokuto! a lot!"

⠀well that was certainly quick. you felt your heart drop in your stomach as she confessed so hastily, you didn't even realize it was a confession until it registered in your head moments later. defeat hung in the air as you began to turn and flee, like you always do, but not before koutarou had a chance to reply.

⠀"aww, i like you too, y'know! you're a great friend, and very thoughtful to have bought me these chocolates! i'm glad we're friends!"

⠀you suppressed an uneasy cough at his reply. that was friendzoning, right?

⠀"o-oh, yeah. f-friends! yeah, we're great friends, bokuto..." your chest clenched painfully at the dejection in her voice. you felt kinda sorry for her, in a way. giving her a pat on the back sounded like a magnificent option. "i-i'll see you around, i guess... good ol' friend of mine."

⠀your face contorted into a cringe before pressing your back against the locker, watching with a held breath as she ran away, not noticing your cheap hiding spot as she left the school in a hurry. the butterflies in your stomach were acting up more than usual; you had to get out of there.

⠀"i think the coast is clear..." lifting yourself from the lockers, you took a deep breath, only to bump into a certain someone as he turned the corner. you suppressed a scream as koutarou looked down at you with his big friendly grin - that same grin that probably friendzoned that poor girl. "b-bokuto! funny i've run into you today!"

⠀"y/n! hello!" his eyes lit up at the sound of your voice. "what are you doing here, after school? no teachers are here today."

⠀"ah, yeah, i know..." bringing a hand awkwardly to the back of your neck, your own eyes drifted to look at your feet. "actually, i-i was... looking for you. but i see you're busy, so please don't let me bother-"

⠀"oh no, you weren't bothering me at all!" he interrupted you a little too eagerly, causing your head to snap upwards and look at him in astonishment. you gasped in horror as he handed you the same box of chocolates he was gifted not too long ago. "care for these? they're not actually my favorite."

⠀"they... aren't?" you hesitated on taking the box - after all, they were bought for him, not you. "but didn't someone buy them for you, bokuto?"

⠀"yeah, but it came with a confession. i feel kinda bad, eating the chocolates from someone who i rejected." he laughed it off, shaking his head as he pushed the box into your hands once more. "c'mon, i won't tell anyone, so don't feel bad."

⠀"thanks, i guess...?" against your better judgement, you took the chocolates from kou and held them in your arms loosely. this was awkward. "i should get going now, i'll see you around?"

⠀"but y/n, thought you said you were looking for me? what is it you need?" your face flushed as the third year's lips formed into a pout, his head tilted slightly as he looked at you confusedly. "i can just text akaashi if it's too long, i'm sure he won't mind!"

⠀"w-well, i..." every part of your body was yelling at you to run. escape. flee. anything to get way from the current situation. this was just setting yourself up for utter failure. you'd much rather lose a yen bet than have koutarou bokuto reject you. "it's nothing too important, i assure you!"

⠀"it's important enough to have made you wait until after school to tell me, y'know." a nervous lump caught in your throat as he narrowed his golden eyes.

⠀damn, he got you there.

⠀"y-you're right about that..." you hesitated, the confession just bubbling in the back of your throat, waiting to explode. this was now or never. and you chose now. "i... i wanted to confess to you. i like you, bokuto. i like like you. a lot, actually. i have for a while, i've just been too shy to say anything until now. but after hearing your run in with the other girl, i understand if we're just going to be friends! totally, absolutely fine." your hid your tomato of a face downwards after spitting everything out in one go, your stomach spinning a mile a minute but a ton of bricks sliding off of your shoulders at the same time. at least you didn't owe your friends money now, right?

⠀"aww, i like you too, y/n!"

⠀your eyes met kou's, your embrace around the second-hand gift tightening. "haha, as friends, right?"

⠀"what? no. i like like you too, y/n."

⠀WHAT?

⠀you didn't even catch onto his obvious reply as he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you securely as he let out a laugh. "i've liked you for a while too, y/n!" he exclaimed jovially. "i didn't want to confess to you either, i always assumed you didn't like me in that way."

⠀"are you kidding? literally almost everyone likes you in that way! i certainly am no different." you could hear your heart beating in your ears as you gathered enough self control to hug him back just as tightly instead of just screaming out of pure shock.

⠀"well, i always assumed you weren't part of that 'almost'. it still feels like a dream that you are." he pulled away from the hug, but kept you in his arms. the feeling of it was entirely surreal. "i've always wanted you to be the one to confess to me, so i would reject every other confession in my way. after so many confessions, though, i nearly gave up." he grinned goofily. "but i didn't, and look at what my luck gave me! you!"

⠀"bokuto-"

⠀"it's koutarou to you now, missy." kou leaned down and left a kiss on your forehead to seal the deal. "i'm so happy right now, y/n! this is awesome! i'm gonna take you out this weekend, so count on it!"

⠀"could you please hurry up already? i've been waiting for twenty minutes now." you squeaked as a displeased keiji appeared behind you and bokuto, his arms impatiently crossed. once he saw you, though, he smiled. "ah, i see. looks like luck was on your side after all, y/n."

⠀"akaashi!" you paused for a second, looking down at the chocolates in your possession before bringing your eyes back to him. "i thought you said you recommended koutarou's favorites to her?"

⠀"oh, that. i lied." he chuckled. "if you really know bokuto, you'd know that he doesn't have favorites."

⠀you looked to kou, who nodded his head in agreement.

⠀"anyways, if you two are just going to stay here and hug in the middle of the hallway for another twenty minutes, i'll see myself home." keiji waved before placing his hands in his pockets. "i'll see you two tomorrow." you tried waving goodbye to the setter as he walked off, but you were abruptly pulled into another embrace.

⠀"hugging for another twenty minutes? that sounds wonderful!" bokuto smiled widely as he held you in his arms. "but maybe we shouldn't be doing that in school. i'll walk you home, y/n! i can give you a goodbye kiss from there."

⠀"thank you, koutarou!" a happy blush colored your cheeks nicely as he stepped back from the hug, only to stand at your side and lock fingers with you, leading you outside. a kiss? oh how you were so looking forward to that. you nibbled on your own bottom lip excitedly as the ace of hearts threw you into a random conversation about volleyball; you didn't know much about the sport, but with how much koutarou had to say on the subject, you were able to just listen to his voice and enjoy your time together walking home.

⠀man, you really were a hopeless mess.

taglist : @yams046

ask if you’d like to be part of my gen taglist! and don’t be afraid to make any specifications, either.

[procrastinatorimagines]

Here For You

Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago

Series: Here For You

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Character/s: Reader x Jay, Reader’s brother Henry, Hailey, Adam, Maggie

Warning/s: pregnancy, death, pretty sloppy writing

Word Count: 2,716

Request:  Would you do a Jay Halstead x Reader imagine were the reader either has a kid or is pregnant with one and they meet when her brother is involved in a case, Please?🥺

Summary: Y/N’s brother Henry becomes an accidental witness in a gang shooting that left four innocents dead along with two members of a rival gang. Jay persuades him to make a statement in an attempt to catch the people responsible, but when word gets out, his life, and that of his pregnant sister’s, are in danger so Jay does everything he can to make it right.

“I screwed up Y/N, I really screwed up...” Your brother, Henry, said frantically, pacing back and forth in your kitchen. He’d arrived a few minutes ago, bolting the door locked behind him, red faced and panting hard. 

“Henry slow down,” you tried to reason, “you’re not making sense, what happened? What ever it is you need to tell me so I can help.” He shook his head and ran his hands over his face and through his hair, deep in thought and mumbling ‘no no no’. You sighed in frustration and put your hand on your belly, feeling your baby moving around. It’d been 3 months since you made the move to Chicago, 4 since your ex walked out on you after finding out you were pregnant. You were 5 months along now, it hadn’t been easy but you were making do, you didn’t know where you’d be without Henry, so to see him like this and not know how to help, after everything he’d done for you, was unbareable.

“Henry please,” you took a step towards him and put your hand on his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks and you looked into his eyes, filled with fear and shame, what had happened? “Talk to me,” your voice was quiet but firm, and he took a deep yet shaky breath to regain his composure. With a swallow and a nod he opened his mouth to tell you when there was a knock at the door, making him and you jump out of your respective skins. Henry’s eyes went wide as he glanced between you and the door, his whole body practically shaking.

There was a louder knock that had you scared now too as you put a protective hand on your belly, unsure of whether it was better to answer the door or not. “Chicago PD, open up!” A voice said inbetween knocks and you only slightly relaxed, you weren’t in any immediate danger but Henry was clearly in real trouble.

“Don’t open it,” he whispered, heading for the bedroom at the back. 

You grabbed him by his sleeve to stop him and glared, “it’s the police, I’m not having them kicking our door in, let’s just open it and figure this out.”

“Y/N-” Henry tried but you were already on your way.

“Henry Y/L/N, this is the police, this is your last chance to open the door!” They yelled from outside.

You hurried your steps, panicking. “Coming!” You yelled, quickly unlocking all the bolts on the door and swinging it open to reveal two plain clothed officers.

“Evening ma’am, I’m Detective Halstead, this is Detective Upton, is Henry Y/L/N here?” The male detective asked, badge and gun clearly visible in the waistband of his jeans. You turned to see your brother stood a little away from the hall, face pale.

“Yeah, he’s here.” You said with a defeated sigh; whatever he’d done, lying to the police wasn’t going to help him.

“May we come inside? We need to ask him some questions, he isn’t in any trouble.” The female detective, Upton, asked with a friendly smile. You hesitated but nodded at last, moving aside so they could enter.

“What exactly is this about?” You inquired as all four of you ended up in the living room, Henry not meeting anyone’s eye.

“Sorry, you are?” Upton replied, looking you up and down.

“His sister,” you said, “now what do you want with my brother? Is everything okay?”

“Your brother didn’t tell you?” Halstead asked, looking between the two of you.

“No, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked,” you snapped and Halstead blinked. “Oh, er, sorry, it’s been a very long day, I haven’t had much sleep,” you apologised. The baby had kept you up most of the night, and this stress with your brother was so not what you needed right now.

“No worries,” he said to you before turning to your brother, who had taken a seat and looked was currently looking physically ill. “You want to tell her or should we?”

“They’re going to kill me aren’t they?” Henry mumbled and your head shot around to stare at him.

“Okay what the hell does that mean?” You all but yelled at him, “Henry I swear to God-”

“There was a gang shooting, your brother witnessed the entire thing, we were going to question him at the scene but he’d left by the time we got back to him. I guess he forgot that he gave us his details first,” Upton explained, much to your alarm.

“What does that mean? Does he have to give a statement? Make an ID or something?” You rattled off questions, your mind swimming. Halstead opened his mouth to answer but Henry cut him off.

“Oh hell no, this is Chicago, I know how this works, if I do that I’m as good as dead,” Henry argued, mindlessly picking at the cuffs of his sleeves.

“We know it’s risky, but no one has to know it was you alright, Henry four innocent bystanders were killed in that shooting, including two kids, so if you know something...” Upton trailed off as Henry’s face changed.

“Two kids?” He asked softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Neither could you, had your brother really seen all this?

“We’re sorry to put you in this position, and we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe, but man if you saw something, which I think you did, you might just be the only person who can put the guys who did this behind bars where they belong.” Halstead looked at you and then back at your brother, as if silently asking you for your help.

“Henry-” you didn’t even have to finish, the tears in his eyes told you that he was on board, he was just scared out of his mind.

“Say I did see who did the shooting, what would happen then?” He stood up a little unsteadily and wiped his face.

“Well we’d take you down to the district, see if you could make an ID, and then find you a safe place to stay until all this was resolved, you may be called on to testify if it gets that far but how about we take this one step at a time.” Upton gave Henry a reassuring smile and he nodded, resolve, if not a little hesitation, in his eyes.

“Okay, okay yeah,” he mumbled.

“You sure?” You took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m sure Y/N. I got a nephew on the way now, I gotta make the city a little safer for him if I can right?” He laughed a little and squeezed your hand back.

“It’s a boy?” Halstead asked with a smiled.

“Henry certainly thinks so, but honestly I’m waiting til the birth, I want it to be a surprise,” you replied, feeling a little kick like it knew it was being talked about. 

“You can come down too if you want, be there with him?” Upton suggested, seeing the concern for your brother all over your face. You nodded and all four of you headed to the door and down to the 21st. 

Despite your concern for your brother, his commitment to this was admirable. You loved your brother, but when the going got touch he usually got going. Since you’d arrived in Chicago however, pregnant and alone, he’d really stepped up, got a job at a new restaurant downtown and had been doing some serious apartment hunting so that the baby could have a proper nursery when it came. He might have been your older brother but you had always been more of the big sister; you couldn’t be more proud of who he’d become.

-

You’d been at the district a few hours, your brother off talking with several different officers, detective and a scary looking sergeant called Voight. Sitting by your self in a waiting room looking area you flipped through some old magazines they had available and messed with your phone, bored and anxious to know what was happening with your brother.

Detective Halstead came in to check on you, offering you a water and some food.

“How’s Henry?” You asked, gratefully accepting the drink.

“He’s doing good, it’s looking like we’re going to catch these guys,” he told you, taking a seat on the other side of the table you were sat at. “How about you?”

“Oh I’m fine, just a little nervous for Henry-” A sharp kick in your stomach made you visibly wince as you stopped your sentence in your tracks.

“Kicker huh?” Halstead grinned.

“You have no idea, people always ask me if I’m having a boy or girl, but really the only thing I know if that I’m having a soccer player, or a kick boxer,” you both laughed. “You got kids detective?”

“Call me Jay,” he suggested, opening up one of the packets of crisps he’d brought in.

“Okay, you got kids Jay?” You asked as he popped some crisps into his mouth, turning the packet around to let you have some, you took a couple as he shook his head.

“No I don’t, maybe someday, but...” he shrugged. “Henry mentioned you only moved to Chicago recently, how are you liking the windy city?”

“It’s not bad, pizza’s okay,” you told him, “but honestly there’s so much I haven’t gotten the chance to see yet.”

“The pizza’s only okay?” He feigned being offended, “now that just tells me you haven’t had the best kinds, Bartoli’s, I highly recommend it.”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

A knock at the door drew you from your conversation, Henry was there with another officer, Ruzek he’d told you. 

“I think we’ve got everything we need,” Ruzek said, patting your brother on the shoulder, “you did I good thing today my friend.”

“No one’s going to know it was me, right?” He asked, turning to Jay as he did.

“We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe,” he promised, glancing at you as he did too. You stood up and grabbed your things, shaking Ruzek’s hand and thanking him quickly as he headed back out the room.

“Bye detective, promise I’ll give the pizza another go,” you said.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he laughed, shaking your hand and walking you both out the door. You were down the bottom of the steps and into the cool Chicago air when you glanced back at Jay, was it your imagination, or was he looking at you too?

-

“Look, I told you, it’s just a quick ID down at the district, they won’t even know who did the IDing,” Henry explained as you both got into the car. “I’ll drop you off at Med for your appointment on the way, you good getting the bus home while I do some apartment hunting? I have a viewing lined up pretty near the police station actually.”

You nodded, “Jay call you?”

“If by Jay you mean the not at all good looking detective Halstead, then yes,” Henry teased and you shoved him a little as he tried to buckle his seat belt.

“He told me to call him Jay,” you argued unconvincingly.

“I’m sure he did,” he said, pulling off down the street, “hey, I’m just surprised a woman in your... condition has time for any game that’s all.”

“Oi, I’m pregnant not blind, it’s not like I made a move on the guy... but I’m allowed to look you know,” you both laughed as you headed into the city, the conversation moving on to apartment hunting and the new nursery, detective Halstead still a little on your mind.

It wasn’t long before you were being dropped off, waving to Henry as he drove away. 

-

The next few weeks continued in a pretty similar manner, the Intelligence Unit was building a pretty substantial case against this gang, it turned out, and your brother regularly went to talk to various cops and lawyers. He assured me everything was okay, and so did Jay when you saw him, which was actually fairly frequently when you went to pick up your brother after one of their meetings. Often you went early with Henry and chatted with Jay or another member of the unit, and life went on. You and Jay had actually started to text a bit, not that you’d ever tell Henry, in a friendly way obviously, he was helping you settle into Chicago life, recommending places to visit and eat... you had no delusions a guy like that would fall from some pregnant chick, but it was nice to have a friend to talk to.

You hadn’t really talked much since the trial, they’d managed to flip some guy Henry had said, so he’d been able to avoid testifying in open court. Your conversations with Jay seemed to come to an end soon after that and while you were a little disappointed, you were too busy moving into your new apartment to mind too much, glad that this case was in the rearview and you could focus on your baby.

You were pushing 7 months when you went for your next check up at Med, the thought of already coming up to your third trimester was a daunting one, but you couldn’t wait to finally meet your baby. As you finished up with your doctor you headed out into the hall, too busy rooting around for your phone in your bag to stop yourself before you collided into a figure appearing around the corner in front of you. With a crash your bag went flying, spilling out the contents onto the floor.

“Sorry,” you looked from your belongings on the floor to the owner of the familiar voice, detective Halstead. “Oh, hi Y/N,” he offered an apologetic smile as he bent to pick your stuff up.

“Jay, hi, sorry I didn’t see you there” you said, “I really would pick that up myself but then someone would have to pick me up,” he laughed and handed you back your bag as he rose.

“No worries, getting pretty far along now huh, how’ve you been, how’s Henry?” He asked.

“Henry’s good, we’re good, two months to go now,” you told him as you both began walking to the exit, “just glad to go back to some kind of normal with the trial being over, how about you? What brings you to Med on a Saturday?”

“Visiting my brother about a patient, he’s a doctor here,” Jay explained, waving by to a red haired doctor across the room you assumed was the brother in question. Although you kicked yourself for it you couldn’t help but notice that the Halstead’s seemed to have good genes. “Oh hey sorry for not talking to you for a while by the way, I figured with the trial over you’d be too busy with the baby and Henry and I didn’t want to bother you,” he said.

“Oh yeah, no I get it, I guess we both got pretty busy,” you replied.

“Hey, did you ever try the pizza at Bartoli’s?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Never got around to it actually,” you said and he grinned.

“You hungry? It’s not too far from here, I could buy you lunch, least I can do after all the help you and your brother were,” he offered. Was... was he asking you out? You, the heavily pregnant chick? Not that you were complaining, you’d liked Jay a little since you met him, you were just surprised he might have felt the same way.

“You know what? Sure, I am pretty hungry, just let me confirm my next visit at the desk and we can head out,” you answered and he looked relieved. You headed over to the desk with a smile on your face, Henry was never going to let you hear the end of this.

A nurse approached Jay as you headed away, you think she told you her name was Maggie earlier. As you stood at the desk you noticed her roll her eyes at Jay and shake her head. “First Will and Natalie now you and this girl? What is it about Halstead’s and pregnant women?”

[aizawasthot]

better on you | aizawa s.

summary: ice cream nd stolen sweaters. goofy aizawa x reader.  pairing: aizawa shouta x reader word count: 1.9k words

note: ok so hey this is my first fic in this account uwu feedback is appreciated and encouraged hehe. ALSO NGL THIS WAS INSPIRED BY @burnedbyshoto’s sweater scenario w aizawa 🥺🥴 hope u guys enjoy all this aizawa fluff :> ps. Aizawa smells like bath & body works’ eucalyptus and spearmint and no u can’t change my mind

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Aizawa, we really need to finish this proposal for next week. Principal Nezu probably expects that we’re done by now,” you groan. This proposal for a more efficient and safer course outline was far from finished.

“Yes, I know, [Y/N]. But we’re stuck on where we can hold the summer training. There’s no place near the school that can hold 20 students,” he muttered, looking bored.

“Well, yeah I know that too but we can leave it for another day. We can work on other areas like-”

“Tell you what-- let’s get out of here and grab some ice cream. Ice cream always helps, maybe we can figure it out after,” he interrupted. You were taken aback with his offer, but you accepted nonetheless.

“Oh-- I guess that’s okay,” you replied.

“It’s settled then, you can grab your stuff and we can meet by the teacher’s lounge.” 

-

“Aizawa! You got vanilla? Really?” You snort, shaking your head at the man sitting across from you. “That’s so boring… so… vanilla...?”

“I may like vanilla ice cream but I’m not so vanilla myself,” he smirked at you, teasing and almost a little too uncharacteristic of the usual brooding teacher.

“Aizawa! Oh god--” you sputtered. “That’s not very appropriate,” you said. Your tone stern but your face beet red and a goofy grin spread across your face.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. He looked so relaxed- his brows weren’t furrowed and his usual frown was replaced by this adorable smile. Why did that make your heart flutter?

Still admiring the man in front of you, he interrupted your thoughts, “You’re staring,” he smirked. Oh. OH.

“Apologies,” you mumbled, your face once again heating up. “You're just-- you’re better looking when you’re not, you know, brooding.”

“So you’re saying I’m ugly when I’m brooding?” He feigned being hurt, hand on his chest, laughing.

“You know that’s not what I mean-- it’s just, you know…” You trailed off, eyes not meeting his.

“That I look even more handsome than I do?” He teased.

“Ugh, Aizawa,” you groan. He was being a cheeky bastard and he knew it.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re fun to tease,” he grinned at you, and you finally let your eyes meet. His eyes were twinkling. He looked like an angel, you thought.

You shook your head, “You’re a goofball.”

“Uhuh, and you love it,” he mused. Smile still plastered on his face.

“Hah, you wish,” you stuck your tongue out.

“What are you? 5?” He snorted, his smile growing even wider. 

An employee interrupts your banter as they walk towards your table. “Excuse me sir, ma’am, our store is closing in about 10 minutes. Would you like to get anything else for the night?”

You didn’t even realize that you were the only ones left at the store. “Oh, no, thank you. We better get going then,” you smiled at the young girl. “Thank you, have a good night!”

While you were gathering your things, you realize that the store closes at 10PM, which also happens to be the last run of your bus on the way home. 

“Shit,” you cussed under your breath. I guess I have to either walk or uber, you thought.

“I just realized that the last bus comes in a few minutes and the bus stop is at least a 15 minute walk from here. I’ll probably just uber home though,” you casually shrugged.

“Or-- uhm, you could stay at my place? It’s only a 10 minute walk from here,” he offered. “Only if you want to though! You can totally uber if you want…” AIzawa added, looking sheepish.

“I mean-- well, if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to intrude,” you blushed.

“I offered, didn’t I? Come on, it’s pretty late,” he muttered, gesturing for you to walk beside him. Noticing that his face was also turning red. 

“You’re like an old man,” you giggled. It was 10PM on a Friday night, it’s not like he had to wake up early tomorrow.

“Oh shut up, if you deal with my rambunctious students all the time then you’d know how tiring it is,” he sighed dramatically.

“Okay, old man.”

-

“I can sleep on the couch, Aizawa. It’s not a big deal,” you told him when you arrived at his apartment. He was insisting earlier that you take his bed and he’s sleeping on the couch. Which was ridiculous, you were already crashing at his place.

“Are you sure? Because I’d gladly take the couch. I don’t have a guest room-”

“Aizawa, stop. Don’t be ridiculous, I’m more than okay sleeping on the couch,” you repeated.

“Okay then. I’ll grab you some of my clothes if you want to wash up before bed; the bathroom’s the door on the left,” he pointed at the bathroom door. 

“You don’t need to lend me clothes, AIzawa,” you said, your face heating up again. He was being too nice.

“Shouta.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Shouta,” he clarified. “And-- don’t tell me you’re not going to shower and change your clothes after a full day of sweating from training your students.”

“Okay, Ai- Shouta. Thank you.” You gave in and accepted his offer, and while you sat and waited for him to grab extra clothes for you, you can’t help but notice how cozy his apartment is. His place looks inviting and warm, much like he was with you today.

When he came back to give you your things, you were too busy scrolling through social media to notice him approaching you, he was already showered and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a quite fitted shirt. You couldn’t help but stare.

“You’re staring again,” he snickered, handing you your clothes for the night.

You blushed profusely, abruptly standing from your seat, “I’m just-- I’m gonna go shower now.”

-

You woke up at 3AM freezing cold. Shouta did give you an extra blanket and pillow, but you’re always cold, so it’s not a surprise. You sat up, wanting to grab a glass of water. Walking towards the kitchen, you spotted a grey sweater on the back of one of the chairs. 

It wouldn’t hurt to just borrow it, right? You thought as you grabbed your glass of water. Deciding that you needed another layer other than an oversized shirt and sweatpants so you won’t freeze to death, you grabbed the sweater before you could change your mind.

It smelled like him. It smelled like eucalyptus and spearmint.

You fell asleep almost immediately after putting on his sweater, burying your face into the collar, smiling like an idiot.

-

That morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. You could hear Aizawa softly humming to himself as he shuffled around the kitchen, making breakfast.

You got up and stretched, feeling well rested with a satisfied smile on your face. “Good morning Shouta,” you smiled at him.

“Morning-- wait, is that my sweater?” He said, staring intently at what you’re wearing. Shit, you forgot about the sweater.

“Oh-- uhm, yes. Yes it is. I’m sorry, I can take it off right now, I was just too cold last night and I saw it laying there when I grabbed a cup of water. I swear I didn’t mean to like, steal it or anything. I just needed another layer to, y’know, not freeze to death,” you rambled on, your face flushing for the nth time.

“Oh [Y/N], no no, I was just surprised. You can keep it on, it looks better on you anyway,” he chuckled, leaving you even more flustered.

You buried your face into your hands, feeling like a dumbass. “I’m really sorry, I’ll wash your clothes and give them back,” you mumbled.

 -

After eating breakfast with Shouta, you said your thanks and apologized profusely before leaving and ubering home. When you got home, you washed the shirt and the sweatpants that you insisted on washing; but you left the sweater on and enjoyed the comfort it gave you as you did random tasks.

After spending your afternoon grading papers, you decide to take a break. You also decided to text Shouta, still feeling embarrassed about the sweater situation.

To: Aizawa Shouta Hey, thanks again for letting me crash at your place last night. Anddd sorry again for being bothersome ):

From: Aizawa Shouta I already told you, it’s not a problem. Also, stop saying sorry! I told you, it’s fine

To: Aizawa Shouta Okay okay geez. I’ll give you your clothes back when I see u on monday! :)

From: Aizawa Shouta Alright, sounds good. See you Monday morning :)

The interaction has you feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush, and for the rest of the day, Aizawa Shouta was the only thing in your mind.

-

Okay, so here’s the deal. You washed his sweater Sunday night, and you definitely were going to give it back to him, but then, during your walk on the way to UA, the wind picked up and you got chilly. Here’s the kicker: you forgot to bring a jacket. So what did you do? Grab Shouta’s sweater from the bag of his clothes and you wore it. Again. You didn’t even plan to wear it that long, just for the duration of your walk. But of course, you just had to arrive the same time Shouta did.

“Good morning, [Y/N],” he greeted you at the school entrance, eyes already trained on your-- his sweater.

“Good morning, Aizawa,” you muttered, trying to keep your cool as you walk inside.

“You know, I don’t recall that sweater being that comfortable, but if you do find it comfortable, then maybe you should keep it,” he mused, a small smirk forming on his lips. You can already feel your face heating up as you silently hand over the bad with the rest of his clothes.

“I-- I swear I was gonna give it to you today, but you see, I forgot to bring my own jacket and I got cold and--”

“It’s okay,” he laughed as he noticed your face getting redder.

It was not okay. How many times do I have to embarrass myself in front of him? I need to get a grip, you thought to yourself, still walking beside him as you near your respective offices.

“Good morning, Aizawa-sensei! [Y/N]-sensei!” You heard someone call out, only to see it was Midoriya.

“Good morning,” you both greeted.

“Wait-- [Y/N]-sensei, your sweater looks familiar. It looks like All Might’s gift to Aizawa-sensei’s birthday that I helped pick out,” Midoriya said as he examined your clothes.

“Oh-- uh, well--”

“Actually, Midoriya, can you see if Present Mic is here already? He has something that I need,” Aizawa spoke up, saving you from the ever so curious boy. Midoriya enthusiastically nodded and took off almost immediately.

“Thank you,” you sighed in relief. “But also, what? This was All Might’s gift to you? Why’d you let me borrow it? Oh god, Aizawa,” you groaned.

“It’s no big deal, Toshinori always gives me a sweater or a hoodie every year. No complaints though, I love sweaters and hoodies,” he shrugged, opening his office door.

“But it’s still his gift to you,” you insisted, following him into his office. When you were about to take his sweater off, he spoke up.

“Keep it, I already told you it’s fine.”

“But--”

“What are you going to wear when you walk home? It’s probably going to be still cold, so keep it.” His voice sounded so firm and commanding. That’s kinda hot, your brain involuntarily thought.

You blushed at his persistence, and what you just thought about. “Okay, then,” you said. Turning to leave his office.

“And like I said,” You turned your head to look at Shouta, “it looks better on you.” He finished with a wink.

Oh god.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

[captainficspace]

No Boys Allowed- Vanya’s Day

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: Vanya Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves (sort of) 

A/N: I had the best time doing TUA fic week and definitely want to keep writing for this fandom. Thank you all so much for reading. Enjoy today’s entry :)

“Can you braid? Neither of us know how.”  Allison knew that Ben knew, but he must have been playing dumb the entire time if anyone had asked him for help. When Klaus had knocked on her door, Vanya by his side, she knew they were seeking her out for a reason. She took it as a welcome distraction.

“We were saying how nice he would look with his hair French-braided.” Vanya added, “But neither of us can follow a tutorial for anything.” Something stirred inside Allison, excitement maybe? There had been so many awful, confusing things going on lately that she hadn’t even begun to process. But this was one of those few times she could actually help, no matter how small the request was.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

They didn’t have what had now been lovingly referred to as “girl’s night” very often at all as kids. But sometimes, a rare sometimes, Allison would desperately need a sister’s company at the same time Klaus would desperately need a break from the nonstop aggression of brothers at the same time Vanya was lonely enough to risk actually seeking out someone to be with. “Girl’s” night was of course loosely-defined since Klaus was involved, but any other brothers barging in to play superheroes or throw knives at the boy band posters on the wall were firmly redirected to the hand-written No Boys Allowed sign taped to the door for such occasions.

It would feel like the times they all snuck into each other’s room after bedtime to play cards or tell stories, but somehow even more vital in their purpose and function. Girl’s nights were few and far between, sometimes less cheery and loud than the group hangs, but the sisters and honorary “girl” needed their time.  

 This was the first one they all had as adults, already feeling somehow younger and hopelessly old as they gathered on the floor of Allison’s room.

“So who’s going first?” She flitted around the room, gathering what she thought they would need. Most of her things were exactly as she left them, the brush and mirror and extremely 2000s barrettes and butterfly clips. She grabbed a makeup bag and a pack of stick-on nails just in case the night started picking up.

Klaus volunteered, “I need a modern makeover.”

“As modern as we can get with these beaded hair ties.” Allison ran her hands through his shoulder-length waves, smiling as he leaned into her touch. She couldn’t resist scratching behind his ear like a cat to make him giggle and squirm, but still close enough to brush out the tangles and start braiding. Vanya made herself comfortable, coming over to Klaus to lay her head in his lap.

“Remember the time we dragged Luther in here and painted his nails?” He asked.

“Thanks to that hole Diego put in the wall, I never forgot it.” Allison said.  Klaus threw his head back and laughed at the memory.

“Wait, what?” Vanya looked up at her siblings, puzzled. Oh, right.  Sometimes they forgot how many memories they had where Vanya just wasn’t around.

 “He was being an ass so we dragged him in here kicking and screaming and gave him pink nails.” Allison said, thinking of the one time they broke the No Boys Allowed rule.

“Me and Ben and Diego had to sit on him.” Klaus added.

“Then why did he-“

“Luther tickled him to make him get off and he’s a kicker.”

“Where’s the hole?” Klaus started laughing again, pointing at a suspiciously low poster hanging on the wall, tacked hardly an inch above the baseboard.

“We didn’t want to get in trouble.”

“Somehow no one caught on.”

“It was my brilliant idea.” Vanya just shook her head, laughing to herself as the two recounted the event. It was the gateway to even more stories of things she had missed, and while Allison finished Klaus’ hair and applied Vanya’s press-on nails, the “girls’ caught her up on things. They explained everything from inside jokes (A fictional 8th sibling named Hubert that lived under Ben’s bed and was responsible for everything in the house that went wrong), the reason there was a fork stuck in the ceiling beam in the living room (Diego still refused to completely say why), and how one time they managed to cover everything in Five’s room with post-it notes. The experience was bittersweet, especially since they all knew why Vanya wasn’t around for things, but it felt good to talk. It felt good for everyone to be distracted by braids and nails and stories.

Klaus ended up looking stunning in a French braid, pulling the hair back from his face and showing off his features. Allison even left a few strands to hang loose and curled them. He would not stop looking in the mirror, taking up the space by the vanity as Allison had moved onto highlighting Vanya’s cheekbones and adding glitter wherever she thought was necessary. The process was taking forever because the big fluffy brush tickled something awful and it was an ordeal trying to get Vanya to sit still. 

   "You look like a prom queen." Allison told him, hoping that if she gave him enough attention, he would get out of her light. 

"You look like a founding father." Vanya countered. 

Klaus’ jaw dropped. Vanya was still getting use to the whole teasing thing, but this was her best attempt yet.  Allison's reaction definitely wasn't her usual pity laugh, bursting into giggles both at her comment and Klaus’ floored reaction. Maybe there was something about her time away in the 60s that gave her confidence.

   "I am stunning, thank you." He poked Vanya in the side and she squeaked.   "You need to play nice with others." Allison said, "missing" her cheekbones entirely and swiping the powder brush over her ear again. 

  "Stop!" She scrunched up her neck and wrinkled her nose, but had giggles in her voice.

  "Tell me I'm pretty!" Klaus said, giving her one last chance. Vanya sighed, turning to the side to gently take Klaus’ face in her hand, utter sincerity in her eyes. 

"I'm sure you'll do amazing at your Hamilton audition." Allison doubled over, laughing so hard she had a snort fit and needed to grab on to Vanya’s chair to keep herself upright. 

"Oh that's it!" Klaus went back to poking at his sister’s sides, but with a new intensity. Vanya’s dam burst and her giggles rang throughout the room, shaking her shoulders and turning her cheeks pink. 

  Allison had recovered and decided Klaus needed some help with his vengeance, going back and forth between using her nails and the big, fluffy brush, making her sister scrunch up her neck even more and squeak as she laughed. Klaus poked wherever he could find an opening, fighting off her hands, all the while taking notes on which spots got a good reaction. 

  "I am a goddess and I will be treated as such!" he said, attacking her ribs.  Vanya nearly fell out of her chair, eyes screwed shut as she rocked with silent laughter. 

"N-no!" She managed, mustering the strength to plan for attack. For the first time, she fought back, going right for Klaus’ hips with her new press-on nails. She had so much time just sitting on the sidelines during these sort of interactions, watching every move. It would be the easiest thing in the world to take every sibling down based on her knowledge of tickle spots.

  Klaus let out a shriek and curled on himself. It was his fault for wearing shirts that never fully covered his torso. 

  "I'll get his front if you get his back." He heard Allison say. That’s when he knew girl’s night was over and he needed to be on his way. He went to run, but the door slammed seemingly on its own. Even the knob refused to turn

.   "Screw you, Ben!" Klaus yelled out, right as his sisters had him cornered, kicking the door for good measure. He could hear the bastard laughing right on the other side of the wall. 

  "Thanks, Ben!" The sisters said in unison. Overhead, the lights flickered, as if noting the appreciation.

  They ended up in the weirdest positions as they tried to get their brother pinned, tangling themselves in knots until they finally had Klaus laying across Vanya's lap as she held his arms in place, Allison kneeling between his legs and making a big show of showing off her nails before going for the kill. She made her hands into claws and dug right onto the surface of his exposed hips, sending him into hysterics. The tickles they had all been giving and receiving so far had been gentle, but there was something about the new nails and the motivation of vengeance that was giving Vanya a merciless streak. She and Allison were a team now, and they were firmly locked on their target as they tickled him senseless, themselves giggling as Klaus went into the asthmatic hyena stage of his laughter. 

   The tables turned on Allison next, who unexpectedly yelped and curled up in a ball in the middle of tormenting Klaus, swatting at something invisible that had tickled her neck.

  "Ben, you TRAITOR!”

"He thrives off chaos" Klaus wheezed, and immediately folded over with a squeak. The ghost truly had no loyalties.

"No boys allowed, remember the sign?" Vanya added. The door dramatically swung open and slammed loudly, nearly drowning out Allison’s laughter as Klaus had used this chance to exact his revenge, slipping his hands up under her arms and making her cackle until there were tears in her eyes.  Vanya happily went with this change of plans and joined right in. After all, Allison had been way too ruthless with that brush earlier. 

   She never would have guessed that Vanya and Klaus together would be such a lethal team, but they absolutely were due to years of observation and combined creative efforts.

   "You need to hold STILL.” Vanya said, some time later. She couldn’t resist grabbing the powder brush from the vanity and running it over her neck to see how she liked it.   "Shuhuhut UP!" 

  And it was back to Vanya again. She could have sworn she felt another set of hands jabbing away, but she couldn't think straight from laughing. The hands she could see and feel on her were bad enough to give her the hiccups and a sore stomach. She couldn’t remember laughing like this. Maybe she never had before. 

   Allison's work ended up going to waste, makeup being smudged and hair becoming more and more disheveled as they wrestled and played and laughed. Mostly they laughed. It reminded Vanya of the rare occasions when the entire sibling squad would camp out in each other's rooms when they were supposed to be in bed and would be giddy from the mischief of sneaking out and being overtired. She may not be on the same level of comfort and familiarity like this with the others, but her "sisters" were the safe place to start. 

     They sank against each other at last in a heap, breathless and glowing with happiness. Occasionally, there would be bursts of giggles or random pokes and squawks of indignation, but mostly they were tired out and content to lean against each other, Vanya nestled between the “girls.” Glitter was everywhere thanks to the powder brush that had found its way over Vanya’s ears and Allison’s neck and Klaus’ ribs. She collected a few specks of the fine, sparkly dust on her fingertip and pressed them to Klaus’ cheek, giggling when he stuck out his tongue at her.

“The guys are seriously missing out. I forgot how great this was.” Vanya felt so relaxed she thought she could almost fall asleep there and then, warm and happy with Allison absentmindedly playing with her hair.

“Do you think Diego would really let us even touch his hair, though?” Klaus began to think of how many barrettes he could sneak before Diego noticed while his back was turned. The idea was tempting.

“It’s like you almost want him to put his foot through the wall again.” Allison gestured to the poster with one hand and skittered across his side with the other, grinning at the sound of his laugh.

“You’re right. Maybe we should keep it our thing.”

“Same time next week?” Vanya suggested.

She hoped in all honestly it would be even sooner than that.

[simp-for-spencer-reid]

Sugar with a Side of Coffee Ch. 8- The First Moves

Chapter 8: The First Moves Series Masterlist

Spencer’s mood had been particularly lifted the past few days at work, and it did not go unnoticed by the team. They knew that Spencer had been seeing the girl from The Empty Mug, but he wasn’t keen on giving them details about their relationship, or friendship rather, as he insisted. Not that he liked keeping secrets from the team, but it was nice to have something for his own. He was sure that he would properly introduce them someday, but for now, she was his little secret. He liked it that way.

For the past few days, Cate was staying at Marta’s above the coffee shop due to the leaking pipe thanks to her upstairs neighbors. They were doing construction and needed access to the pipe through her ceiling. She and Marta hadn’t spent this much time together since they were roommates in college. Cate didn’t want to admit that Marta was slowly getting on her nerves, despite being very grateful that Marta was letting her stay. The Miller’s apartment above The Empty Mug was small, but homey.

So small in fact, that Cate was staying in Marta’s room in the same bed. Marta was a kicker in her sleep. Cate’s lack of sleep was likely the cause of her irritability. Shrimp stayed in Marta’s room as well, but slept in his carrier because he too was not a fan of Marta’s constant moving figure throughout the night. 

Cate was getting her laundry together to go to the laundromat when she got a voice message from Spencer. 

“Hi it’s Spencer. I was wondering if you had any plans tonight? I hope you don’t mind but I read your books and I wanted to know if you maybe wanted to watch the movies with me? Not all of them, of course, that would take 19 hours, but maybe the first couple if you wanted. This is getting to be a long message. Um, bye.” Cate smiled, but looked at her basket full of laundry. She sent a message back.

“Hi Spence, I’d love to, but I have to run to the laundromat so I can catch up on some laundry. You’re more than welcome to come if you’d like?” She hit send and then quickly made another. “Also, not a problem about reading my books. How did you like them?” She put her phone down and grabbed the rest of her clothes. Her phone chimed again.

Spencer’s stomach flipped when she had called him that nickname. Sure, Emily and JJ called him that from time to time, but the sound of it coming from Cate’s lips made him want to replay the message over and over. He tried to wait a few minutes before answering, but he was eager to respond to her.

“Actually, I have laundry to do too. Can I pick you up and we can go together?” After Spencer hit send, he was reminded of the free laundry machines in the basement of his building. He had used them last night to catch up on his own laundry. He changed into a new set of clothes and put his ‘dirty’ ones in a basket along with a random pile of clean clothes he had washed last night. He ruffled his hand around to unfold them and make it less obvious. His phone chimed with a new text message from Cate:

Sure :) 

The drive to The Empty Mug was short, and Cate was outside waiting, with her basket balanced on her hip. Spencer tried not to stare as he pulled up. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few strands framing her face. She sported some glasses for the first time since Spencer had met her. She smiled and gave a little wave when she saw his car. 

She hopped in the passenger seat after placing her basket in the back. The drive to the laundromat was quiet, the radio playing classical music to fill the silence. It drove Spencer crazy, for once, he had nothing to say. His palms were sweating against the steering wheel, he couldn’t string words together to form a sentence he didn’t deem stupid in his mind. 

Cate, on the other hand, was content. Her cheeks hurt from smiling the whole way to the laundromat. She snuck glances at Spencer every couple of minutes, watching him drive. She played with her fingers. His car even smelled like him. Suddenly, Cate smacked a hand against her forehead.

“I forgot my quarters!” she laughed in disbelief as they pulled into the parking lot. The shock on Spencer’s face quickly subsided to a smile as he gently laughed.

“I have plenty of quarters, I can cover it.” He rested a hand on her knee, but quickly pulled it back when he remembered his sweaty palm. To cover his quick movement, he unbuckled and got out of the car to retrieve his basket. Cate followed his actions and got her basket as well. 

They both picked adjacent machines and sat next to each other in the waiting seats. Cate pulled her legs up, arms looping around them and chin resting on her knees. Spencer crossed an ankle over his knee, folding his hands together.

“Thanks,” Cate said softly. “For the quarters.” She clarified. Spencer shrugged.

“It was nothing. Just a few dollars.” He turned his attention to the swirl of his clothes in the sudsy water. He looked for something to talk about, “So, for the record, I totally did not think Professor Snape was going for the Sorcerer's Stone.” That was not a lie.

“What?” Cate whipped her head to look at him. “You’re joking, it was written to make it seem like it was Snape the whole time!” Cate spoke animatedly with her hands, throwing them out in front of her. 

“Classic red herring trope.” Spencer scoffed. “It was almost too obvious!” Cate lightly whacked his shoulder. A smile grew on her face, erupting into a laugh.

“I forgot I was talking to an insufferable literature nerd.” Cate jabbed. Spencer laughed with her. 

“In all fairness, you were what? In the fourth grade when you read them?” Spencer guessed. “I am an adult, I can pick up on things that a child’s mind can’t.” Cate shook her head.

“Actually, I was in the first grade.” Cate poked his chest. “I found my sister’s collection. She told me I was too young to read them, so I made our mom buy me my own set, and it took me a whole year just to get through the first book. Imagine trying to sound out all those spells!” Spencer looked at her with raised eyebrows. He noted to never challenge her. 

The washer stopped spinning and the pair moved to switch their clothes into a dryer. Spencer could smell her citrusy detergent as she put her clothes into the basket to bring them to a dryer. He reached into his pockets for more quarters. 

“Slight problem.” He realized. “I only have enough quarters for one dryer.” He could feel his face turning red. Cate looked at their loads.

“I mean, I think we could squeeze it in one machine if that’s alright with you? They look pretty big.” Cate suggested. 

“Uh, yeah that works for me.” Spencer tried not to seem so flustered. Cate put her clothes into the dryer and watched Spencer put his own in along with a dryer sheet. She held out an outstretched hand. Spencer emptied the quarters in his pocket into her palm. He watched as she placed them in the slot. 

The two continued chatting about Spencer’s first read through of Cate’s favorite series. The laundromat was empty, but filled with the sound of their laughter. The sky outside darkened and the lights of the city speckled their view. Cate yawned.

“Did you still, or, would you still like to come over to watch a movie?” Spencer asked. Cate stretched, trying to wake herself up. 

“Yeah, I just need to find energy or I might end up like you during the Anastasia movie.” Cate elbowed Spencer in the arm. 

“I can make coffee when we get to mine?” Spencer tried to not sound too inviting. He didn’t want to pressure her. 

“Um, that would be okay.” Cate smiled. Their attention was drawn to the dryer that had stopped spinning. They walked over to the dryer. Cate pulled all the clothes out into a metal rolling basket of the laundromat’s. She rolled it between the seats that held Spencer’s basket and her own, so they could separate their clothes. 

The pair pulled their clothes out. Spencer folded his nicely, placing it back in the basket. Cate on the other hand, put them in a duffle bag she had brought, not bothering to fold them. Spencer pulled a cardigan out, it smelled like Cate’s detergent. Cate pulled out a sweatshirt, still warm from the dryer. She swapped sweatshirts as Spencer reached into the metal basket again. Cate’s head pushed through the neck hole as Spencer held up a pair of dress pants, preparing to fold them. Cate swiped them out of his grasp. 

“What?” Spencer reached for them. “Those are mine, my initials are stitched on the tag!” He grabbed them back. Cate tried to hold on. 

“Yes, but I just need to see them for a second.” Cate’s face was turning very red. Spencer’s brows furrowed. He let them go in confusion. He watched as Cate peeled a bright pink lace thong that had been stuck with static to his tan pants. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“Oh.” was all he could manage, sifting through the metal basket for another item of his clothing. 

“Sorry.” Cate squeaked. She handed him back his pants. There was an awkward silence as they got to the bottom of their clothes. Cate and Spencer finally glanced at each other. Cate was the first to laugh to ease her nerves. Spencer joined her soon after.

With the laundry done, The two went back to Spencer’s and like promised, Spencer made them each a cup of coffee, which he deemed not nearly as good as that from The Empty Mug. They had settled on the couch next to each other. The first Harry Potter movie playing in the background. Spencer noticed how Cate didn’t take one sip from her mug. In fact, he didn’t think that he ever saw her drink coffee in front of him. 

“You don’t like coffee.” He profiled. He couldn't help it. “How can you work at a coffee shop and not like coffee?” He said. His face contorted as he realized how ridiculous it sounded. Cate just smiled and shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Cate drew out the last word. “I like the way it smells, though.” She offered. The movie was forgotten in the background as the pair laughed. Spencer bit the bullet, diving head first. Being brave like he could be out on the field, yet in Cate’s presence he felt like a pile of mush. 

“Do you want to go to the Smithsonian with me?” He rambled out fast. “They have a literature exhibit and I haven’t seen it yet and I thought maybe you’d like to go with me.” Spencer left out the one part he wanted to mention. Cate did it for him.

“It’s a date.” she smiled over her now cold cup of coffee. 

“Really?” Spencer wanted to make sure he wasn’t dreaming right now.

“Yeah. I’ve never been to the Smithsonian before.” Cate placed the mug on the coffee table in front of them and brought the knitted blanket she had used before to her shoulders. She felt her insides flutter as she imagined the huge museum, and Spencer by her side. Spencer made a mental note to get tickets tomorrow for the weekend. His attention was drawn back to the movie. He couldn’t keep his mind from thinking of her words. It’s a date. He couldn’t think of anything better than being surrounded by the literature classics and Cate. He ran a hand through his hair. As his arm rested on the back of the sofa, Cate’s head lolled onto his shoulder. 

She was asleep. Spencer carefully took her glasses off of her face and placed them on his coffee table next to her full mug. He took this time to look over her face without fear of being caught. She had light freckles that peppered over her nose. The credits played in the background. Without thought, he brushed some stray hairs off of her forehead. At the touch, Cate sleepily crinkled her nose. Spencer panicked and drew his hand back to the arm rest, frozen. 

It was growing later, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he should wake her, or let her sleep. He had work the next morning, and he still had to drive her home. Using his best judgement, he gently shook her awake. Her eyes flickered open. 

“Oh my god.” Her voice cracked. “I am so sorry!” She rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep-” Cate croaked, her voice thick from just waking up. 

“Um, want me to take you home?” Spencer’s arm fell to his side. Cate nodded, rising from the couch. She gathered her things, and grabbed her glasses off the coffee table. Spencer grabbed his keys and the two walked down to his car. The ride was again silent, save for the classical music playing from the speakers. Cate was trying really hard not to fall asleep again with the lull of the car. When they reached The Empty Mug, Cate grabbed her basket and Spencer watched from in the car as she unlocked the door. He wanted to wait until she was safely inside for him to drive away, he knew all too well of the evils of the world, thanks to his job. 

Cate awoke the next morning, no message from Spencer. She really hoped the events of last night didn’t negate their trip to the Smithsonian. She had the day off and she had organized all her things in Marta’s room, while Shrimp watched from Marta’s bed. While she was at it, she also cleaned up some of Marta’s things. 

Spencer felt more tired this day than usual at work. His late night was getting the better of him. His colleagues had already pointed out his tired eyes. He didn’t even stop for coffee at the cart this morning. He felt too nervous to call Cate or leave a voice message. He enlisted the help of Penelope to buy tickets to the Literature Exhibit of the Smithsonian for him and Cate. When Penelope questioned the other ticket, she knew it was for the coffee cart girl. She phoned Derek about the update on Spencer’s relationship as soon as Spencer left her batcave. 

The day dragged on and they had no new cases coming in. Spencer was stuck at his desk with paperwork for previous cases. He was stuck with his thoughts as he hand wrote case notes. He watched eagerly for the clock to signal the end of his shift. While scurrying out, Derek caught him. 

“Where are you off to?” He raised one of his well-groomed eyebrows. Spencer stuttered.

“Home.” he said too quickly.

“Come on, Reid.” Derek walked with him to the elevator. “You know I know about the tickets.” Spencer should have known that Penelope would share the information with Derek. “You got a hot date with the coffee girl?” he smirked.

“No, we’re just going to the museum to see the new exhibit. She might have called it a date, but I-” before Spencer could go off on a tangent, Derek cut him off.

“Good luck,” and clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a good time, regardless of if it's a date or not.” Derek smiled at Spencer. In the elevator he decided to call Cate, to see if she was available for the museum tonight. The phone line rang a few times. Spencer felt discouraged, it would go to voicemail after the next ring.

“Hi,” Cate answered. 

“Hi.” Spencer said back. He took a breath. “Are you busy tonight? I got tickets to that exhibit. If you can’t, it’s fine, don’t worry-” 

“I’m free tonight.” Cate cut him off. “Pick me up at six?” Spencer had just enough time to run home and change before picking her up at six.

“Perfect.” He smiled. He fished his keys out of his messenger bag and unlocked his car. “See you then.” Cate repeated his words and they hung up, both excited, yet jittery with nerves.

The museum was bigger than Cate imagined. Their tickets were specifically for the book exhibit, which was located in one of the libraries which was a smaller building. Cate and Spencer walked side by side through the library. Spencer looked at each display, and read off the excerpt for Cate. Cate would nod, and occasionally ask questions. The air seemed thick with tension. There was a bigger question looming in the air above them. Was this truly a date? Or was this two friends, who were both interested in books, enjoying time together? 

Spencer wasn’t sure how to transition this friendship to something more. Did they already have more? He felt confused. He felt guilty, he didn’t want the awkwardness to ruin Cate’s time at the museum. 

Cate knew something was up. Spencer was acting weird. He seemed very much in his head tonight. Cate tried to stir conversations through questions, but Spencer answered them all literally and left no room for discussion. Cate was beginning to feel as though she had been misreading their friendship the past week or so. 

They walked through the entire exhibit after a few hours. The air in the library reminded Cate of Spencer’s apartment. It was warm, and the same humidity. The perfect climate for books, Cate recalled from their conversation when he helped save her books. Cate’s face was feeling warm, she shouldn’t have worn a jacket. She took it off, holding it in front of her; it was folded over her arms. 

Spencer, too, felt his face grow warm. His cardigan was making him feel sweaty. It was either that, or the nervousness he felt when he was around Cate. He felt her brush up against his side, he wasn’t sure whether it was purposeful or an accident. He could hear their footsteps echo in the huge library. The exhibit would be closing soon, and most of the visitors were making their way out.

“What are you thinking?” Cate asked, Spencer tried to form a sentence as she brushed up against his side again. He still couldn’t tell if she did it on purpose.

“Um, just about the books. They’re mainly classics. I’ve read most of them. We could’ve just stood in front of my bookshelves and seen the same thing.” He muttered. Cate smiled. 

“Oh, you really have a first edition of The House of Mirth?” Cate teased. Spencer chuckled. 

“Okay, maybe I don’t have the exact copies, but I do have pretty old editions.” The more the two laughed and joked, the more normal it felt between them.

Spencer drove her home, and for the first time, Cate reached for the radio knob and changed the station. Soft rock filled the car. Cate hummed along quietly. Spencer parked along the street in front of The Empty Mug. He just about jumped out the car to open Cate’s door for her. He even walked her to the glass front door of the shop. The two stood facing each other. 

“So,” Cate started. “This was fun. Thanks for inviting me.” She smiled at Spencer.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad you came with me.” Spencer pursed his lips together. They both nodded at each other. Cate turned to reach for the door, but something came over Spencer and he grabbed her arm and spun her to face him. He leaned forward and quickly kissed Cate square on the mouth. She barely had any time to react when he pulled away just as fast. Without waiting for her to say anything, he got in his car and waited for her to enter the building. 

Once inside, Cate touched her lips in disbelief. As she turned to look outside at Spencer’s car, he was already driving off. Cate turned around again, and rushed upstairs to tell Marta exactly what had just happened.

[kanene-yaaay]

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Kanene’s note: Okay, I’m- aaaaa

I’m very proud of this one because it’s a little different of what I use to write and it was cool to try a new something. I didn’t even wrote the laughter because I was writing this next to my family and I didn’t wanted any of them asking why my characters were laughing so much xDD.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Switch!Émile and Switch!Remy (It is def romantic. They are married and very gay and there is a lot of kisses in it-)

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 2700 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! I didn’t proofread that one very well, so I will probably be correcting a few things later. Any advice is always very, very welcome!

* Just two silly and very mean boyos being two silly, teasy and ticklish boyos. xDD

* A versão em português brasileiro irá ser escrita, ainda! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, take a good rest, talk with the one that you love and drink water! Byeioo!~

                                [~*~]

- Émile ~

 He didn’t know from where this came from. In a second they were on the couch, smiling and watching Steven Universe, and in the other a cold shiver ran across his body, making him turn to his husband, just in the exact moment to see he taking off his sunglasses, locking his glare on him with those sweet, dangerously warm eyes and grin. Just like that. It took a heartbeat before Émile realized what was about to happen, a wobbly smile beginning to control his features as he felt himself almost paralyzed, Remy starting to tap his fingers on the lenses of his own glasses, his malefic smirk never fading.

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 They stared each other, Émile’s gaze finally changing to his fingers, another round of goose bumps spreading across his spine, the adrenaline taking over his veins and giving him the enough strength to dash in full speed through the hall.

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Which leaded the poor, almost giggling, adult to his current state: hiding behind his room’s door and wishing with all his will power that this plan would really worked as well as it had when he watched in the cartoons.

 (He tried to ignore the voice in his mind reminding him how all that chases usually ended up in the end, the thought only being enough to heat his face.)

 - Émile ~ - It was in days like this that one wearing glasses could swear that Remy was a witch. Because there wasn’t any other realistic, rational and plausible explanation about how much the giggles trapped in his throat got louder, bouncier and even more difficult to control just with the slight sound of his voice, obligating their owner to press his hand further around his mouth, lightly biting the tip of his tongue. – You had better hide well, because you know what is gonna to happen when I find you, don’t you?

 Émile shook his head, his back forcing itself on the cold wall.

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 - Oh, gurl, maybe you don’t even remember anymore… Now, we can’t fusion like this, can we? Let’s me remind you, then. ~ - The chased hold a pouty whine when heard these words, already feeling the beginning of a blush spread in his neck. Remy knew very well how teases could be as unbearable and unnerving as the tic… I mean, The Thing. – First, I will carry you aaaaall the way back to the couch and maybe my fingers will slip in tweaks and squeezes all over your hips, who really knows, ya know? But you better don’t squirm that much, because then I will have no escape but be obligated to bring my other hand to better hold you and just hope that this one is not more slippy then the first, right?

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 - And then: The couch. Nothing different will happen there, really. I will just lay down with my extremely ticklish, helpless husband to take a nap, and, if my glorious lips will be random blessing your incredibly sensitive neck with a lot of Goodnight Kisses and my hands will keep lightly scratching, squeezing and poking all the length of your sides, sometimes even giving a little attention to your hips, because no way in hell I will be sleeping in a hard pillow, it’s none of your business, giggly boi. – Émile couldn’t help nor stop the pitched squeal that escaped from his mouth, eyes widening and breathing immediately stopping, the others giggles also begging to escape. - Oh, and, by the way, better keep your mouth very shushed while this. We don’t want the Tickler Master waking up, am I right?

 Silence.

 Remy’s nonchalant tune still full filling the air, which didn’t carried the sound of his steps anymore. The cartoon lover knew there was no way for him to save himself and, in a surrender act, just let his high, excited giggles run happily across the room hiding his face in flames behind his tremble hands. Seconds later, he heard the sound of his door being closed and his hide spot exposed.

 - But we both know that you just can’t contain yourself, my so poor, so defenseless lee. – Émile playfully screamed as he was lifted up in the air, quickly being carried in bridal style. He opened his eyes enough to see Remy in a bat of eyes deviating his glare from his form, the tender smile taking pieces of seconds before changing to an evil grin, fingers suddenly tweaking his kneecaps and hips, leading the carried to jump, a squeal signaling the flow of giggles that followed it.

 - Please, Remy, please!! – Each new squeeze was a snort interrupting his words, making him try to start again only to get the same result and repeat the cycle all over, resulting in a more helpless babbling than anything else. The said stopped, adjusting his hold in order to sneak his thumb in that damn spot right between his shoulder blades, switching between kneading and prodding while leading to an even more no-understandable sentence. - No there, no there, no there!!! Pleasepleaseplease-

 - Huh? Whatcha you are trying to say, hun? That I’m the most handsome husband in the entire world? That you are so sensitive that only a few squeezing and prodding are enough to transform you in a blushy, laughing mess? – The one being held felt his laughter increasing, the words spreading tingles in all his others ticklish spots, even the ones which weren’t being attacked. He shakes head, denying. – Is that you love all these teases and specially when I tickle tickle tickle you? Huh? Use your words, babe.

  – Nonononono! – Émile arched his back just to find another attack to his hips, bucking the said as Remy buzzed his fingers in the exact point where his sides and hips connected, and generating loud crackling as response. – You a- nah! You are mean mean mean!! – His arms danced to a place to another, too much occupied with the crazy sensation to really focus in stopping it, Remy increasing his efforts in order to make the snorts start to bloom amongst his laughter and squeals, no needing too much to succeed. – Remy!!!

 - Yes, gurl? Geez, you should love my name. It seems like you can’t even spent a whole real minute without saying it! – His tune was still nonchalant. However, he leaned down for a heartbeat in order to steal a peck from his beauty, giggly and cute as fuck, husband, who obtained a new shade of red creeping down his neck. Nooooice. – Anyway, what did you wanna tell me? Be quick, I still having a lot of places to knead, scratch, scribble, wriggle… This whole ‘Tickle your extremely ticklish husband, like, really, reeeeeally ticklish, like seriously, this guy is a whole tickle spot himself, a alive version of Tickle Me Elmo, and, when he became a helpless mess just tease him more and more until the big, rational, Émile Picani turns in just a poor, so poor, blushy lee.

 - REMY!!

 - What? Can’t handle the truth? Boo-hoo, then.

 Émile didn’t answered, unless you considered his fast, absolutely incoherent, stumbling words a kind of response, choosing to clench is hands in his shirt and hide his face in flames, instead. His laughing being so strong that reverberate through the attacker’s chest, who couldn’t stop feel like a villain as he stared with a gigantic grin adorning his lips the ribs that such act let defenseless. Well, he internally shrugged as he took a deep breathe, suit himself. His arms were growing tired anyway.

 Émile thought he was going to melt in any moment, the teases still heating his sensitive skin and increasing the tickles in a way that should be definitely illegal, but in the moment he felt the raspberry, spreading, taking over his nerves and T I C K L I N G he died.

 And screamed, for sure. Oh, and also gripped something while kicked and trashed as if Mabble’s life was depending on it (not his own life, of course, since he was already dead). Some part of his desperate brain noticed he was falling, but the laughter exploding from his mouth and the impossible to ignore feeling quickly expelled any other thing.

 He opened his eyes, breathless as his watery vision focused in the form mostly layed onto him, their giggles flying and filling the entire room. After some heartbeats, Remy finally got up, his hands resting on the floor and sustained the weight of his body. Their eyes met.

 - I’ve forgot how much of a kicker you are. – Émile just curled up a little more, pulling his tongue out in a very mature and hard to win, statement

 - ‘s not my fault your arms are weaken than Deadly Arms’ ones.

 - Excuse you?

 - Nuh.

 - I beg your heck pardon?

 - No, you let me fall for you. Twice. In love and on the floor. I’m ignoring you until the end of ours married days.

 - Oh, is that so? – Remy replied, adjusting his position so his hands would lay each one in the sides of his husband’s head, who immediately recognized the smile beginning to shine and exploded one more time in a flow of giggles, his arms in front of his body, attempting to conjure a kind of shield.

 - Wait wait waitwaitwait!! Nonono! – A yelp cut his sentence when a hand tweaked his thigh. - I’m sorry, I’m sorry!

 - Yep, gurl, you will b- And his threat was interrupted when Émile pushed his shirt and connected their lips, stealing his words, breath and any and every coherent thought from his head, his giggles still floating from his mouth, which leaded, if that was even possible, to the coffee lover melt further, allowing himself to be carried away by the tenderness and love, sighing and deepening the kiss.

 …Until that dirty, evil, nasty cheater digs his fucker fingers in his damn stomach, which ruined the romantic moment and absolutely did NOT made Remy Tough Picani release a half shriek half snort that DIDN’T resulted in the only one wearing glasses coos softly, excuse you.

 - Awww. – Émile gave him an innocent smile, quick turning the tables and sitting on Remy’s legs, his fingers swinging in a dance that consisted in craving his thumbs right above his waistline and vibrating his others fingers in his torso, the maddening sensations culminating to free, belly laughter escape from the ‘victim’s’ mouth. Eyes tightly closed, wrinkled nose. – What is the matter, my dear? The cool, bad boy Remy can’t take some ti-tickly tickle tickling in his tummy-yummy-yummy? Huh? Huh? Can’t he? Because he is super hype dyper sensitive, aren’t you? Yes, you are! You are!

 - OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!! – Remy could feel his face, against his own will power and threats, melt in flames. His laughter being replaced by hysterical giggling as his husband changed his technique to spidering, slowly walking his fingers up before quickly drag his nails in random patterns the way down, going up and down one time more and after that a couple more of times, always managing to catch four or five snorts. – THIS IS SO DUMB, FUCK.

 - Now, now, Mister Ticklish Master. Let’s not be a Squidward to the Tickle Monster, alright? He just wanna to hear aaaaaaall that adorably, lovely, helpless giggles of yours!! – Émile lowered down and touched their noses, his smile increasing as he felt the other’s laugh hitting his cheeks, his tune now in flying in joyful whispers. – And what a cute laughter you have! Definitely the most lovely, sweet and favorite lee of the Tickle Monster!

 - ‘m not- ‘m not cuteyourbi-nOPLEASENOTTHERE- His words stumbled in each other, specially when his shirt was lifted and a finger began to squirm and scratches his bellybutton, his legs now kicking while his hands tried to get enough strength to stop the marvelous move. However, exemplary falling as the attacker focused some quick prodding in the exposed axillaries, receiving what was suppose to be an angry snort. Émile couldn’t help but coo one more time. – I’M. NOT. – He couldn’t help the squealing cutting his sentence. - CUTE. FUCK OFF!

 Émile made a soft sound of sadness, pouting even if his husband was still with his eyes tightly closed, unable to see it.

 - Now, it’s a pity that you don’t believe in the words of your own husband. – He switched to lightly scribbles and pokes at his sides and lower ribs, making sure to rub circles in each one of them while also gave his ‘victim’ some room to breathe and understand his words.

 - Well… maybe, maybe he would… – Remy tried, really tried to frown and looks angry, but that was really hard with the giggles still interrupting his words. His body melting in the gentle, good touch. Totally against his will, for sure. - ... if his husband wasn’t being a jerk and tickling him.

 He stared directly at Émile, therefore he didn’t lose the slightest which red freckled his cheeks, smirking, wobbly that is true, but also proudly in being the only between both who managed to say ‘tickle’ without shuttering. Sadly, though, he also didn’t lose the way his eyes and smile widened, showing that the other had an idea.

 Butterflies started to panic in his stomach, especially when Émile’s gaze focused there with a ratter crazy gleam, his next phrase coming out as a soft, dangerous purring.

 - You know… all of this made the Tickle Monster a bit hungry… and he heard that some lil lil lee has a very yummy yummy tummy right here. – His hands squeezed his belly, as if to prove his point. Remy jumped, the adrenaline running all speed across his body as the words starting to weight in his brain.

 - Wait, WAIT! Émile!!! – The one being called slowly moved towards his target, ignoring the squirm and pleas from his husband, who grew more and more desperate as his attacker innocently smiled and looked at him, his head gradually lowering to his most ticklish spot. – Émile, Émile, please, I’m actually begging you. I’m begging you!! I’m cute, see? I said it!!! Émile!!!!

 - I’m listening. ~

 - No, you’re not! – His euphoric, hysteric giggles already began to take over his sentences. – No! Fuck!!

 - No? – Émile’s lips already were resting on his belly, the word sending shivers across his nerves, which was not helped by the fact that the other absently shook his head, demonstrating his saying.

 - No! No!

 - A no to ‘no’? So that is a yes?

 - nO.

 - No? But what about the ‘yes’?

 - Stop it! Oh my gosh, I’m gonna to get a bitching divorce!! It’s a no to your yes!

 - Got it! It’s a ‘no’, then?

 - Yes!

 - A yes? Okay!

 Before any other protest could fly from his mouth, a shriek did it first. And again. And again. And one more time, almost as fast as the nuzzled raspberries buzzing and the nibbles, together with the ‘nhom nhom nhom’s’ sounds, spread and madly tickled in a total oblivion to his kicks, pushes and loud, thunderous laughter painting the air.

 It didn’t took too much before the cartoon lover stopped, already aware of the other’s limits, and touched their foreheads again, Remy’s breathing and reminiscent giggles being the only thing breaking the silence which involved them in a calm, cozy, warm feeling.

 - You don’t look at me like that, your traitor. – His tune was free of any harm, his bright gaze and blushed cheeks locking his attention. Émile couldn’t help himself but kiss the pout out of his face. – And don’t you dare to kiss me. – Quick kiss. - I don’t trust in your sweet lips anymore. – Soft kiss. – They are a hell of a trap. – Giggly kiss.

 - I love you.

 Their eyes met, one more time, and Remy finally gave up, swimming in that deep, caring moment. Their hands intertwined themselves.

 - I love you, too. – He lightly poked Émile’s ribs, winning a yelp before receiving the same treatment. – But only sometimes.

 - Uh huh.

 - What? It’s the truth!

 - Sure it is, dear.

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 Their heart did, beating in unison.

[lettersinscarlet]

Kicks (Colby Brock Imagine)

Hey guys! I am so sorry I forgot to post yesterday. It’s been a crazy week. From public speaking, singing, dealing with my emotions, revealing truths about myself, having a long overdue conversation, and racing ATVs, it’s been hectic. Anyway, my requests are open for Sam, Jake, and Colby and feel free to send in some random asks throughout the day. Hope you enjoy!

Request: You’re pregnant and you have been feeling kicks internally but the doctor told you and Colby it’s unlikely anyone will feel them externally until you start showing. When you wake up seeing a baby bump, you scream for Colby to come and he rushes in and when you show him the bump, he declares his hands will be on your stomach until he feels movement, so all day you lay around and when he feels it, he gets soft and ready and then runs around shouting about it and calling everyone to tell them the news.

——————————————————————————

“Colby, the baby is kicking again,” you told him. You smiled as Colby dashed over and put his hands on your stomach. “The doctor said that you wouldn’t be able to feel it until I got my bump,” you told him. He sighed and he put his hands back down.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try every time,” he said.

After you and Colby had been married for some time, you had both decided that you had wanted to try to have kids. The day that you had found out you were pregnant, you and Colby were so excited and you celebrated so much.

You soon learned that your baby was a kicker. It was like they were training to be America’s Top Kickboxer or something. Every hour is so, your baby would start kicking. And each time, you told Colby, and he would run to you and put his hands on your stomach, trying his best to feel it. You had been told that no one would be able to feel them externally until you started showing.

So everyday, you looked in the mirror, and you looked as hard as you could to see the roundness of your baby bump. You couldn’t see it yet and you were hoping that it would come soon, partially for your sake and partially for Colby’s.

“I’m sorry, baby, that you can’t feel it yet,” you told him when you felt the kicking stop. Colby just leaned up and kissed your cheek.

“It’s okay, I’ll feel it soon,” he replied and rubbed your stomach. “In the meantime, I can still talk to our future bundle of joy,” he said and leaned back down.

You spent a long time just sitting on the couch, giggling along as Colby talked. You could feel the baby kicking while he talked, and it made you smile.

For the next few days, it sort of went the same way. You could feel the baby kick, and Colby would rush to see if he could feel it. Of course, he still couldn’t.

One morning, you woke up and went to the bathroom. You stood in front of the sink and you put your hands on the counter. You knew things took time, but you really wished that your bump would come soon so Colby could feel the kicks, too.

Since your hormones were already off the walls, a few tears made their way down your face. You felt your baby kick and you sighed as you rested your hands on your stomach. And then you realized it: you had rested your hands on your stomach.

You went to the mirror and turned sideways and pulled up your shirt. Sure enough, there was a small little bump. You screamed as you ran downstairs.

“Colby! Colby! Colby!” you squealed as you flew down the stairs.

“What, baby girl?” he asked. His hair was messy and he was just in a pair of sweats.

You pointed at your stomach and he looked confused.

“Baby, I know you’re pregnant-“

“No, Colby, there’s a bump!”

He looked at your stomach for a second and then his face lit up.

“Oh my gosh!” His hands flew to your stomach as he felt around and he felt the bump, too. He then pulled you to the couch. He laid you down and then he lifted your feet. He sat down and rested your legs on his lap and he put his hands on your belly again.

“What are we doing?” you asked with a laugh.

“Waiting for our child to show me their apparent soccer skills,” he said. You laughed again but rested your head back.

You waited what felt like forever but there were no kicks yet.

“Maybe you should start talking. He or she seemed to like it when you talked the other day,” you suggested. He then started talking, promising the baby that he would buy whatever they wanted if they would just start kicking.

He sighed and then stopped talking, resorting in making funny faces at your stomach.

“Sure, Colby, sticking your tongue out at my belly is gonna make the baby kick,” you chuckled.

“Do you have any suggestions?” he asked. His eyes were wide and your heart broke just a little that he still hadn’t gotten to feel his baby kick.

“Maybe if you got me some food-“ you started, but you gasped, and so did Colby. Your baby was kicking up a storm. Colby’s eyes brimmed up with tears as he leaned even closer to your belly.

“Guess our kid really wants some food,” you chuckled. He smiled and looked at you, his face bright and his grin so contagious.

When the kicking died down, he gently moved your legs before he bolted down the hall.

“Sam! Kat!” you heard him scream and you chuckled. “Get down here!” he yelled again.

Colby came back into the apartment, Sam and Katrina in tow.

“What’s the big deal?” Sam asked as he saw you laying on the couch. Colby smiled even bigger as he turned back to Sam and Kat.

“I felt the kicks! And that kid is definitely going to be a soccer player!”

“Or a kickboxer,” you added. Colby turned to you and shook his head lightly.

“You really love that movie, don’t you?” You shrugged and he chuckled. But then he turned back to Sam again. “But, I felt them!”

Katrina came and sat down next to you. “Can I try and feel, too?” she asked. You grinned at her.

“Of course you can, Auntie Kat.” She smiled at you as she moved to sit on the floor. She put her hands on your stomach and you waited.

“Can I join?” Sam asked. You nodded and he sat by Katrina and put his hands on your stomach, too. Colby came and took his original position. He put one hand on your belly and he pulled out his phone with the other.

“Jake, brother, guess what?”

Colby told Jake and Tara and everyone else he could possibly call. When he finished, he put his phone back and then put both hands on you.

“You’d think this was another one of Sam’s rituals,” you joked as you sat there.

“One thing about this kid; they definitely have Colby’s flair for the dramatic entrances,” Sam said. You laughed and then the baby kicked then.

The future “aunt and uncle” gasped just like Colby and you had and they leaned closer to you. When the baby finished kicking again, they moved their hands and grinned at you.

“We can’t name our kid Van Damme, Can we?” you asked Colby. He shook his head and you fake sighed.

Colby then got up and he ran out into the hall.

“My baby kicked!” he screamed. He started running and you heard the shouting throughout the building. You looked over at Sam and he had a straight face but then he cracked a smile.

“Screw it,” he said and got up. “My future niece or nephew is kicking!” he yelled as he ran out into the halls. You and Katrina laughed at your boys and then you ogled over buying baby clothes and baby shoes and decorating a nursery.

You couldn’t wait to see how you guys’ kid would turn out, girl or boy, soccer player or kickboxer.

———

Taglist:

@sp00kybrock @Yikes.Xander @daddydobrock @trapbrock-local @thenameisbabe @far-to-many-bands @lyssaholic @wacky-webber-458 @colbysbaby @katiaw2 @brocks-girl @chesterbenningtonaremylife

[randomoranges]

drag meeting au part 9 [i fucking adore this au okay?]

When Edward made it home that night, it was to a mantra of “I’m so fucking screwed.” He said it to himself as he changed out of his clothes, said it, albeit a little garbled, as he washed his face, continued saying it as he ruffled his hair to let it breathe, and belted it out from the top of his lungs as he took a long shower.(He hoped it would be cathartic. It wasn’t.) He continued berating himself as he changed into his pyjamas, kept it up once he was in bed, and then only stopped once he was lying on his back, staring at his ceiling.

 It was as if he wanted to suffer. Maybe he was secretly a masochist. At this point, that was the only explanation that made sense. No one in their right mind would purposely put themselves in such a ridiculous situation. And yet, here he was, making it worse.

 He could have come clean. He could have, at any point during the last five hours or so, admitted to this little misunderstanding. They could have – hopefully – laughed it off. He could have easily ran for the hills afterwards and put everything behind him. But nope; instead, he’d accepted a second date – hell, he’d even gone on and promised a third! A bloody fucking third date!

 Maybe he should consult. Have himself locked up and studied and such. There was clearly something really wrong with him. Normal people weren’t this stupid.

 The kicker was, however, that – well, he’d had a really nice time. He’d really enjoyed his evening. More so than the time before. It just kept getting better. Who in their right mind would want to end something this good? It would be completely daft of him to put an end to it, because of a little minor inconvenience. Even if said minor inconvenience wasn’t really minor and was really more of a giant lie that would completely destroy the perception his date had of him.

 But – those were details.

 “I’ll tell him after the third date – won’t plan for more,” He promised himself. “I’ll tell Étienne that I’m not really a woman then. He’ll understand – he’s gotta understand, he’s so sweet and kind...” He told himself, trying to convince himself that it would work out – that two more dates wouldn’t be a bad idea. This way, he could enjoy his time with Étienne a little more, if it all went to hell, and the damage wouldn’t be as big.

 He hoped.

 He really needed to get to sleep.

 --

 After an exhausting weekend (he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the millions of ways his little scam could backfire and end up hurting what was turning out to be a really decent man), Edward went to work on Monday. He went through the motions of his day, texted Étienne while pretending to be Kate, and finally headed back home at the end of his day, looking very much forward to falling face first on his bed and not moving until his alarm would go off the following morning.

 He waited on the metro platform and silently prayed that there wouldn’t be any interruptions and that he could go straight home.

 The metro, as was often the case at this time, was packed with people, but when it stopped and the doors opened, letting people out and then letting others in, Edward took to his same compartment and tried to find himself a spot where he could stand without being pressed up against a myriad of his closest strangers.

 There was a standing spot by the adjacent doors and Edward went to lean up against it. He propped up his messenger bag over his feet and then leaned his head back against the door and tried to relax and enjoy the ride.

 And that’s when the universe decided to curse him for being a terrible human being who apparently took pleasure in making the lives and feelings of others a farce and a game.

 Across from him, sitting by the opposite window, was none other than Étienne, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, but staring right fucking at him. Or, in his direction, he hoped and prayed. There wasn’t any way he could have hoped for this to happen. This was even more ridiculous than the cheesiest of sitcoms.

 The worst was, that for a fraction of a second, Edward forgot that he wasn’t currently dressed up as Kate, and had started smiling in Étienne’s direction and had very much taken one-step towards him to say hello.

 Luckily, the universe had not forsaken him just yet and instead, he’d had enough mental activity to remember that Étienne had no idea who the hell Edward Murphy was and so, he’d leaned back against his hands before he did anything stupid with them and looked anywhere but to where Étienne was. (But that was really hard to do. Mostly, because he was freaking out at the thought that Étienne was here in the metro with him and that maybe he would recognise him. The last thing he wanted was a scene in the metro. Secondly, Étienne looked lovely as usual with his paint stained hands, his portfolio tube, and his colourful bag.)

 He was endearingly cute and Edward had to fight every fibre of his body not to walk up over to him, introduce himself and strike up a conversation.

 “Yeah, and with your luck, you’re gonna click and then you’re gonna find yourself hanging out with him one day as Edward and the following going on a date with him as Kate. Focus, Jesus, you’re in enough trouble as it is,” The one part of his brain that still seemed to work told him.

 Miraculously, Edward managed to go mostly unnoticed and kept his eyes averted from Étienne as much as possible. He still stole glances every now and again and at least once, he was convinced that Étienne had been looking at him.

 But then again, the metro was crowded so for all he knew, the other man could have been looking at anyone else in the compartment.

 Regardless, when his stop finally arrived, Edward was relieved and more than glad to get off. He was finally out of the station, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 Edward retrieved and opened it to find a text message from Étienne himself and Edward wasn’t even sure why he was surprised at this point.

 “Speak of the devil,” He typed out, “I was just thinking about you.” He added as he started walking home, mindful of his surroundings.

 “Should I be worried? Am I in trouble? Did I do anything bad?? ;)”

 “If you consider “bad” as in being constantly on my mind, then yes. You are in trouble.” That wasn’t a lie. He’d spent whatever time he wasn’t freaking out over this situation replaying their first date over and over and over again. Especially the way Étienne’s hand felt in hers – in his. Or, the way he had cupped his cheek. Or, the way he had kissed him all nice and slow. It had been a really nice kiss. Étienne’s lips had been surprisingly soft. He’d kissed his fair share of chapped lips. That had been a nice change. He should try and get as many more kisses in, before he put an end to this.

 “<3 In that case, I take full responsibility, but I’ll have you know that you’ve been on my mind quite a lot as well.”

 This guy. Honestly. How the hell was he going to be able to fess up to him and potentially let him go? He was a gift.

 “You really are a charmer, aren’t you?”

 “And if I was? Would I be in even more trouble????????”

 God, he could even picture that (beautiful) teasing grin of his and it sent butterflies to his stomach. It was like he wanted this – wanted to suffer as much as possible.

 “Oh, so much trouble. You have no idea ;)”

 There was a pause and Edward wondered if maybe that had been too much – if he’d interpreted Étienne’s tone wrong and instead of it being playful and flirty, it had actually been legitimately worried.

 “Good. I like trouble.”

 Nope. Never mind. Étienne seemed to be just as bad as he was. Edward actually had to stop by the street corner and lean against the lamppost for a moment. He wanted to scream into his hands and also climb into Étienne’s lap and kiss him senseless. Alas, he couldn’t do any of those things so he contented himself by taking a deep breath and then tried to remain calm as he answered him back.

 This was the greatest gift and also, the greatest curse.

--

PREVIOUS: VIII CURRENT: IX NEXT: X

[incorrect-hanna-barbera-quotes]

Carl: Listen. I have a really funny joke to tell you. Okay, first you need to--OK, this is gonna be really long but I promise it's worth it so you need to bear with me--first you need to take some graham crackers, sugar cinnamon--actually, OK first you need to grind the graham crackers into crumbs, okay? That's a really important step. You can't use entire graham crackers or else they'll be too big and it won't work. Anyway, where was I? You have to uh, put that in the bowl, and also sugar, cinnamon, and butter. And then--this is really funny--press it onto the bottom of an ungreased 9-inch pan. And then you refrigerate it for 30 minutes. It has to be 30 minutes exactly or else it'll be too warm or too cold. At least, that's what I think. I'm not really an expert. But anyway, next you have to preheat the oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit--there's an oven here, by the way. I forgot to establish that but it's important to the joke. And then you--Wait, do you use Fahrenheit? Or are you a Celsius kind of guy? Hold on a sec, I have to figure out the conversion. OK...Um...It's...I think it's like, 450 Celsius? My math might be a little off there but I'm sure any temperature is fine. Anyway, after you've done that you need to put strawberries and cornstarch into a blender. I don't actually know what cornstarch is but it sounds important. Anyway you blend that up and then pour it into a saucepan. And then you're supposed to--Oh man, haha, this is embarrassing but I forgot the next few parts. I'll just skip to the next thing I remember, I'm sure whatever I'm skipping was just filler anyway. So, next you pour half of the cream cheese mixture over the crust--Oh yeah, I skipped the part with that but there's a cream cheese mixture--and then you, I think like, put half of the strawberry sauce on the cream cheese layer. And then you put the rest of the cream cheese over that! And then you, get a load of this, put the rest of the strawberry sauce over that!!! And here's the kicker: Remember the oven from before? Next, you bake it in that very same preheated oven for 45 to 50 minutes. Crazy, right? But it gets better: After that, you cool it on a wire rack for 10 minutes, and THEN you cool it for another hour, and THEN you refrigerate it overnight! And then you have a delicious strawberry cheesecake to share with your friends and family!

Johnny: Well what if I don't want to share it with my friends and family?

Carl: Why wouldn't you want to?

Johnny: I am a savage

[crimsonblackrose]

I’m officially reunited with about 90% of my things. It’s weird. Very very weird but I feel like there’s some stable ground beneath my feet. It just feels nice to not be living out of a suitcase that’s mostly business professional clothing and be reunited with comfy college t-shirts. I’ve gone through all of my stuff, mostly organized it, and set up a bookcase. As a lifelong bookworm and someone who went to college for writing, I have a lot of books. And I haven’t read all of those books. So I decided books I haven’t read or don’t remember reading will go on the bookcase. The rest will stay in their boxes.

My plan when I was expecting to come home pre-pandemic was to frequent the library but try and focus on the books I haven’t read yet that I own. I figured if there were things I desperately wanted to read that I couldn’t get at the library I’d get it for my e-reader or maybe at the store after getting a job. But then the pandemic happened and our library has only recently opened so e-reader and my TBR bookcase should get me through for a while. (Plus I can always grab something off of my aunt or uncle’s bookshelves if I need to branch out. They’ve already given me recommendations.)

The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri by Dante Alighieri. This book is too big to fit on the shelves so it’s chilling at the top with my Korean Count of Monte Cristo musical book. This is one of my Dad’s books that he gave me when he moved. I’m sure I missed more that are in a box in the basement. I organized but I have lot of books so I know I missed things.f

So buckle up here’s all the books on my bookcase in no particular order. Shelf #!.

The Earthsea Trilogy by Ursula K. Le Guin Ursula K. Le Guin is a staple author for fantasy and I thought for sure I’d read this but I wasn’t 100% sure so I grabbed it anyway.

Monsterkind by Taylor C. I kickstarted this a long time ago and it’s one of the things in my boxes that I didn’t realize I had because I’m pretty sure it arrived while I was in Korea. I’ve sadly missed the cut off for book two but am pretty excited to jump into this.

This Dark Endeavor by Kenneth Oppel. I don’t know when or where I got it but looking at the tag line I can see why I found it intriguing “The Apprenticeship of Victor Frankenstein” sounds fun.

And Another thing… Douglas Adams Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Part six of Three by Eoin Colfer. Fun fact when I was in elementary through high school I read everything Eoin Colfer I could get my hands on and I loved The Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy and everything I’ve read by Douglas Adams so this was a no brainer. Though I haven’t read it because I guess I don’t know what it is.Aa sequel? A prequel? Something in between? No idea, it’ll be a fun adventure.

What You Don’t Know About Men by Michael Burke. This is one of those books where I’m just staring at it wondering where it came from and why I have it.  It is signed and after deep diving my own Instagram it’s a book from college. But whether I met the author at an event, something I was volunteering for or at school is beyond me.

Gramarye City by Paul Revere Lester. This is another signed book, but I’m pretty sure it’s self published since there was nothing about it on Goodreads. Could be wrong. But this one I don’t know if it’s from high school writer’s club or what since it, like the last one references my own writing and cheers me on in the note with the signing.

Fiery Dark Secret by Emma Bown Meyer this one is also signed but doesn’t reference my own writing or any sort of cheering me on so who knows. I’m going to assume this is from a library event where the authors came and signed their books from when I was in high school.

Hush Girls by Emily Hansen. Another signed book. You could guess that I don’t read books I get signed but in this case this came out this year and it’s one of the few books I’ve recently purchased. Emily Hansen was one of my cohorts and I try my best to support my cohorts.

Lost in the City by Edward P. Jones, did I get this book because it was recommended reading in college or because it looks cool or was it gifted to me? No clue.

Zombies vs Unicorns. This is a collection of short stories about Zombies versus Unicorns. So each author picked a team and wrote a story to try and grab the reader to their side and some of my favorite authors are in this collection and it’s just super cool looking so I’m greatly looking forward to reading it.

Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris, oh this book hasn’t been read out of pure spite. My department in college had this thing where we had to go and attend “literary” events and then write about them as part of our grade. The problem being there were plenty of literary events for people over the age of 21. So many readings and events that our teachers recommended did not work for those of us under the age of 21 who weren’t allowed in the bars. For one of these my friend said that a famous author had an event at Borders (RIP) on the other end of the city from where we lived. So a small group of us went all the way out to that Borders realized we weren’t early enough to sit in on the discussion which was then sold out and our best and final bet was to get a number for the book signing. So we did that and got dinner nearby. My friends had books but I had nothing to get signed. This book was one of the few ones out and on sale so I bought it and then spent the many hours left waiting in that line reading manga.

Here’s the thing. Kudos to David Sedaris’s work ethic. He’s one of those authors who will stay until everyone in line goes through as long as the place is willing to stay open. Which is super cool. But for me, a college kid who was utterly exhausted and had never even heard of the author before, showed up at 3am after waiting in line for ages to learn Mr. Sedaris either requests a joke or gives you a joke when he meets you. I really really just wanted to get the book signed so I could go back to my dorm and sleep and then write up my journal entry for class. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. And my humor isn’t really okay with cancer jokes at any time let alone 3am. So I haven’t read this book. It’s been on my shelves for ages, moved from dorm room to dorm room to boxes and forgotten. But it’s signed. And even though I’m still very bitter I’m willing to give it a shot. But I don’t have high hopes.

Listen to the Echos, The Ray Bradbury Interviews by Sam Weller, to continue with the books I’m bitter about and have been putting off reading. This book is also signed and the signing is the part that I’m a little bitter about. Again backstory time. So there’s two things you should know. One is that my school would host some pretty cool events from time to time with dinners and what not with authors or other people in the arts and one of my best college friends and her family went to this school fancy dinner at, I believe, the school’s President’s home and they very sweetly got me this book. What kills me on the inside is the signing.

Lauren!

A gift from the —– family!

Live Forever!

Sam Weller

Now you might be like well it is a gift, right? True. But the kicker. The painful kicker was that Sam Weller was my teacher. I was in his Ray Bradbury class at the time this was signed. I spent an entire semester learning about what made Ray Bradbury who he was and how his short stories and works created a ripple effect that gave us so many beloved movies, stories and idioms we have today. I loved that class. I planned to get this book myself and get it signed because I enjoyed it and the teacher so much. And this is the equivalent of getting “Have a great summer” in your yearbook. Now to be real, he probably didn’t put two and two together and at some point, I could’ve tried to get it re-signed but I didn’t. I should’ve, I wish I did. Because I remember laughing about it and taking the book to class but I chickened out. I think, in all honesty, it has to do with teachers who make huge impacts on you and then forgetting who you are when you’re not in class with them. My college departmental advisor just completely forgot who I was when I went to visit after graduating. I get it. I do, but it sure does sting.

Breverton’s Nautical Curiosities by Terry Breverton which is a delightful book about nautical things, another passion of mine from growing up. I’ve never sat down and read it but I’ve flipped through it many a time.

Feeding Hannibal a Connoisseur’s Cookbook by Janice Poon. I loved this TV show and I’m forever in awe of Janice Poon and how she made the food look appetizing but also vaguely human (gross, very gross) while also edible for the cast. I bought this in Korea at the Seoul Comic Con and brought it home.

Healing Herbal Teas: A Complete Guid to Making Delicious, Healthful Beverages by Brigitte Mars, A.H.G. I don’t know if you know this but I love tea. I’m warming up to coffee in the same way I am to booze, as long as I don’t taste it we’re good. But with tea I’m obsessed. This was a gift. I haven’t set about reading it but I am curious about it.

Onto shelf #2

East of Eden by John Steinbeck. I’m not sure if other majors have this but my department while I was there was pretty obsessed with this book. Not teacher’s necessarily but my cohorts talked about it a lot and said they loved it or talked about how it shaped them. So I bought it. Don’t know why since one of the go-to books that drew a lot of students to our school and department because the teacher worked there  creeped me out but hey, willing to give this massive book a try.

The Revenge of the Shadow King by Derek Benz and J.S. Lewis. This is a book that’s been on my shelf a long time. Probably since around when it came out in 2005 that I just kept putting off reading even though I knew I wanted to read it. I’m a sucker for fantasy novels with fey or even a twisty dark vibe to them.

Eyes Like Stars by Lisa Mantchev. I’m going to be honest, bought this book because of the cover. It was a pretty art style with faeries of some kind.

The Magicina of Hoad by Margaret Mahy, for a paperback this book is super shiny. Not sure if that’s why I got it or because anything genre tended to grab my attention in high school.

Timeline by Michael Crichton. In my first year of college, my group of friends and I had a secret Santa and the person who had me didn’t have a clue what to get me except books. So he decided to do one of my favorite things ever which was to get me some books that were his favorites. This is one of them that I hadn’t gotten around to reading yet.

Procession of the Dead by Darren Shan. I’ve been saving this one. I spent most of high school and college devouring any nightmarish adventure Darren Shan concocted. The Thin Executioner is still one of my favorites despite being so ghastly. This one though I remember spotting at the store and going “how dare no one tell me he’d come out with a new book?” And grabbing it. However after living overseas so long I’m sure I’m behind on a lot of books and authors I used to keep up to date on before.

The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel: The Sorceress, The Necromancer and the Magician by Michael Scott. You may remember I’ve read the first in this series and did not enjoy it. But I heard from some other readers that the series gets better and since I have these three books as hard backs which aren’t cheap I’m determined to read them and give them a shot before…probably donating them.

Lost in Space by Ben Tanser. My college hosted a literary event every year while I was there called Story Week. They invited authors and publishers and agents to celebrate books and share what they knew and it was free. As a person who volunteered for it several times it means I’m not sure if I bought all the books I own or if I just got some of the books and this is one of them. I know the publisher was big with our school, our teachers and faculty loved Curbside Splendor, but again I don’t know. This isn’t signed so I think it’s a case of I got it to better understand the publisher and then didn’t get around to reading it because I had big paper’s due like every other day and required reading as well as job and club responsibilities. How I got any fun reading done is beyond me.

The Old Neighborhood by Bill Hillmann is one that I’m kind of embarrassed I didn’t read before now. It’s signed and the author came to class to talk to us about his work because he was good friends with our teacher. He seemed pretty cool and still does. He usually does the Running of the Bulls in Spain and actually got pretty injured one year and made international news.

Where’d you go, Bernadette by Maria Semple. I got this book for free as part of “World Book Night U.S. April 23, 2014” which is pretty cool but I did not read it when I think I was supposed to. Nearly over 6 years late on that one. Sorry World Book Night.

The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. I don’t know about this one. Did I get it because movies were being adapted of Ayn Rand’s work? Did I get it because people were talking about it? Did I get it just out of curiosity because her work is so polarising and pretty much as hated as Twilight and 50 Shades of Grey were within my cohort? Was it on a list of books to read? Not a clue. I’ve read Atlas Shrugged since and looking at the size of this book it’s going to be a long journey of tiny print.

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett. My local public library when I was growing up would participate in a book event where they’d pick a book and then everyone could sign up for that book and they’d host events related to it. Like a big massive book club. Chicago did it too with Neverwhere and many others. I signed up, got the book and then…didn’t read it.

The Princess and the Pirates: The Timelight Stone by Mio Chizuru. This book is a library book. A high school library book that they stamped with rejected and removed all the stuff on it. I assume I got this from a book sale of our library getting rid of books or the librarian just told me she was getting rid of books and since I was working there during my free periods repairing books. The bonus I guess of being a constant presence. It looks like manga but it’s actually a novel, so it’ll be interesting.

Emerald Death by Bill Craig I’m not 100% certain but I’m pretty sure this was from my childhood public library again. It’s signed and I think it was from one of the author events.

The Best of Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet this is like Lost in Space. I bought this so I could better understand the publication because my genre teachers were full of praise for Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet and honestly loved the style. But got too busy to read it. I’m sure I have another collection or two for a different publisher in my boxes somewhere but that can wait. I’ve never really been one to read anthologies or collections of short stories so these types of books usually fall a bit on my TBR list. But I should read them.

Push and The Kid by Sapphire. Both of these are signed and were from a literary event while I was in college through the Harold Washington Library. I think I attended an interview at the library where she discussed her work. From what I remember I know these books aren’t going to be the happiest so I am pretty sure that’s why I’ve set them aside.

The final shelf time.

The Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer.  I borrowed this book in high school from my dad because we were supposed to read it in English and then…never did. I don’t know why. We probably we got too busy in the other books we were supposed to read that we also never finished. Like Julius Ceaser by Shakespeare that we just stopped reading after he died. So, thank you, Dad, for letting me keep it along with all the others.

The Three Theban Plays by Sophocles, this book is pretty beaten up but I always grab classics even if 70% of the time I hate them. This was probably for a class, quite possibly the most frustrating class I ever took, or I found it cheap somewhere.

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo I picked this up in Paris. Pretty sure I read some copy of this in high school in French and I’ve seen the musical in Korean and the movie version as well as the old film of the musical my French teacher had…but we’ll see how I remember it as I go with the translated English.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo. I also got this in Paris. I’ve never read it but after learning about how it single handedly saved Notre Dame I feel like I have to.

Redwall: The Rogue Crew by Brian Jacques. This is the last book Brain Jacques wrote that was published posthumously. I loved Redwall so much and I’m pretty sure I’ve read almost every novel Brian Jacques wrote. When he died I was heartbroken and I got the book but just couldn’t bring myself to read it.

Artemis Fowl the Atlantis Complex by Eoin Colfer, I loved the Artemis Fowl series when I was younger and I really want to jump into this book which is book 7 in the series but I think I’m going to have to go back through my boxes and find the rest of them before reading book seven. It’s been waaaayyyy too long.

The Faeman Quest by Herbie Brennan is another series I absolutely adored when I was younger. Again it’s another where it’s been so long I’ll probably have to re-read the previous books in The Faerie Wars Chronicles to fully understand what’s going on here.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman. Up to this point I was fairly good at reading all of Neil Gaiman’s works. And attending any event he had in Chicago. This one I remember going to with a bunch of friends at the Music Box theater and then staying up late with them to get it signed. It was a fun event but I was saving it to read later since it’s a small book.

Silas Marner by George Eliot not sure where this one came from but I haven’t read it so here it is. I recognize the title though but don’t know why.

A Confusion of Princes by Garth Nix. I love books by Garth Nix he’s one of those authors in Zombies vs Unicorns but I haven’t gotten around to reading this one or even finishing the series of his I started and loved when I was younger. (I don’t like things to end)

Swords of Riverside by Ellen Kushner. This has harlequin romance vibes from the cover but also older fantasy/historical novel vibes. Don’t know where I got it or why but it’ll be interesting for sure. Very curious to see which it falls into or if just the long hair blown back by invisible wind on the male character was just for fun.

Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld, middle school/high school me might not have jumped on the Uglies train whenever one else did but I apparently went ahead and got this book by the author. (Fun fact he’s also in Zombies vs Unicorns). I assume I grabbed it because of the familiar author name and the steampunk vibe of the cover.

Seven Sorcerers by Caro King has a spooky-looking cover with magic vibes, my go to when I was younger.

Changeling by Delia Sherman, when I tell you any sort of fantasy fey adventure or magic novel usually ended up on my shelf just because it fell into that category I’m not joking. This cover is kinda creepy and weird but I can see why I got it because of the title. Oh boy.

These are the books that I plan to read for the most part of the rest of this year. Mixing in e-books and maybe some old ones. There are more books on my bookcase but those are reference or books I’ve read but didn’t remember until I started making this list and realized I had. I also have several books that I didn’t realize were book 6 of a series where I haven’t read or own book one through five. So that’s going to require being set aside until I can check books out from the library. (I’m putting it off because I’m trying to figure out how to renew my library card that’s been inactive for over 5 years during a pandemic)

Anyway wish me luck.

What are some books you’ve had on your shelf for a long time and haven’t gotten rid of but also haven’t read yet?

TBR Bookcase tour I'm officially reunited with about 90% of my things. It's weird. Very very weird but I feel like there's some stable ground beneath my feet.

[megatraven]

Meg, Im really sad and mad now. I made a Nino positivity post (I don't know why there is such thing as Nino salt???) And people just keep.... Being salty about him? Trying to convince me that he is a terrible character?? Do you have anything good about him that could cheer me up? :)

OKAY IM HOME! okay i had to respond to the nino salt stuff but i dont want people to have to read my response to it if they dont want to, so it’s under a cut. the good nino stuff, however, is here:

Remember in that one up where the class was at the hotel and Nino was just. Sitting at the front desk reading a maths book? That was so fucking cute, it’s still one of my favorite Nino scenes. Like dude just casually reading a maths book… what an icon.

And more recently, in miraculer, when Nino forgot about their test and panics for a sec? That’s a WHOLEASS MOOD!!! 

And in Chrismaster when he’s so worried about his little brother and wandering the streets looking for him. THAT’S A GOOD BIG BROTHER!!!! That’s such a sweet kid. He looked so fucking sad man. And when Santa just kept looking down the list for Nino’s name and Nino just sorta slumps….. he’s such a star i love him

When he’s so so freaking nervous to ask Marinette out he can’t mvoe or talk…. and when he was at the zoo he was just. So dumb and so sweet. He’s the biggest sweetheart in the show tbh.

Fighting his fears and facing down an akuma like 8x as strong as him who kept throwing him around, all to try to save and protect alya. accepting the miraculous so easily and winning the day!!!!!!

there are just so, so many good nino scenes in canon, he’s truly such an amazing character!!!!!

(if u by any chance meant headcanons tho, here r my biggest ones: he loves giraffes, he mains lucio in overwatch, and he loves to edit and direct meme-y videos and vines or tiktoks or whatever else.)

I think it’s incredibly suspicious, first of all, for people to turn on Nino (and Alya tbh) after one (1) scene in one (1) episode. Because I’m guessing this has to do with Chameleon. Because I can’t think of any other time that even a person without a brain (such as these nino-haters) could comprehend as him being a terrible person or character. (Other than, of course, Nino talking to Lila in recent episodes. which. same basis, whatever.)

I think I saw your post earlier, and a comment on it- how Nino has known Marinette the longest out of her friends but did nothing.

But here’s the kicker:

Nino was a loner before this season, seated at the back with his headphones on.

Marinette was a much more insecure person.

They weren’t shown to be friends in the past at all, even though it’s a possibility. But acting on the assumption that he’s her oldest friend to excuse the opinion of him being terrible is really fucking stupid. Not to mention Lila didn’t do anything to Marinette in front of anyone else, so why would he have to have done anything?

A person doesn’t drop one of their friends simply because another dislikes them and has no reason for why. That’s not healthy. That’s not realistic for these characters who have so much more personality than people seem to think.

What do these people want from him? From Alya? From the rest of the class?

Do they want everyone in the class to shun and be a bully in return and believe in the worst of people at the drop of a hat?

I don’t know! But I do know that the characters I’ve seen get most hate over this whole debacle have been dark-skinned. Nino being added to the list, I know I saw multiple posts about Alya and Max. (And, of course, the rest of the class and Adrien even, but i digress.)

These people just do not understand the lessons this show is trying to teach at all. Everything meaningful flies over their heads and they point at the character they’ve been waiting oh so anxiously to have a reason to hate and go “look! they’re terrible, see!”

Condemning and damning a character for doing one thing you don’t like (that isn’t even harmful) is a real shitty take to have and I hope the people who do this grow as people and learn that nothing is as black and white as theyre making it out to be.

[diedieri]

Creepslayerz Week - Day 6 -Fluff vs Angst

Sooo I have a few of these that I was unable to finish / never posted. I worked on mostly original stuff this weekend but I’m hoping to feel the inspiration to get a chapter up before the premier of 3 Below.

So read on, enjoy, I hope to hear from people either about this or my fic “For my glory, where do I stand”

(Side bar: I do have a pillowfort bc yikes this tumblr purge...)

I really would like to expand on this further (and it’s a quick oneshot, please forgive typeos etc, you guys know I don’t have a beta).

Tuesday. Thursdays. Saturday mornings. Sunday nights. Four days a week Steve Palchuk faced his past. The first time outweighed the in terms of fear. The first time, an accident saved Steve’s ass and damned him every day since.

  The first time, a Saturday morning, Elijah Pepperjack came into the coffee shop. Steve had recently switched shifts, explaining why he had never seen him before. His victim from high school, a living memory of the man he used to be. Eli, smiling, set his bag in a corner spot. The best seat in the house had been unusually open. Elijah claimed it like his throne. At the counter, he gave Steve a look. He adjusted his glasses and did a quick glance as his nametag.

 “Argentina.” Elijah did not ask, he simply said. He nodded and said the name again, “Argentina, can I get a caramel macchiato, hot, with almond milk? Extra caramel, no whip cream?” He spoke slow and timed it to Steve typing in his request. Eli was a regular, making Steve feel like a new customer. His fingers fumbled and Eli spoke slower and smiled with patience waiting to have it confirmed.

 Steve asked, “Anything else?” He forced a smile. He was not new at this, dammit! He was a surprisingly competent barista! He was just taken back how easily Eli accepted his nametag. It was not his own, but instead a coworker’s, fondly known as Arrrghh!!!! They had a second badge made, no one knew who Argentina was. Staff and guests alike only knew them as Arrrghh!!! Steve, having forgot his badge at home (or under a rock for all he knew) grabbed the long forgotten tag in the back. Elijah did not question it and Steve became unknown. In that moment they met without history.

 “Eli,” Steve called out his name. Was it the first time? Three years since graduation. Three years since he said, “see you later buttsnack” for the foreseeable last time. How long had they shared the same university? Every day of the week, not just the four he saw Elijah, Steve wondered and looked for traces of his old acquaintance. Their school was large, students were a number. Steve got in on scholarship, football. He did not doubt Elijah had gotten a hell of a scholarship on his own. He smart as ever—a quick glance at his laptop while picking up plates cemented the thought. His screen was all numbers, calculations and formulas going right over his head.

 Why had he not appreciated that growing up?

“Thanks, Argentina.” Steve had to keep wearing the badge. He kept it in his pocket, switching it out when Elijah came. He arrived on the same schedule, his routine was horrifyingly predictable. Eli had not changed, which bothered Steve even more. He could recognize Eli, was he so unrecognizable? Steve still had blonde hair, a stunning jaw, he was cocky, and proud and had muscles.

 The reason came to Steve on a Saturday night. The football games and practice. Spring Fling King Steve, would only ever be near the field during the season. To practice and to play. There was no way Steve, his bully Steve, would be caught dead anywhere else. Especially the biggest game of the season, homecoming and he was working as a barista. Most games, he’d be there, but everyone had plans. Steve talked to his coach, there was some debate but ultimately he said yes.

 Business was slow, even nerds were at the game, it was a grand tradition. Steve cleaned tables and folded napkins keeping himself busy. Nothing was enough to stop haunting thoughts. His shoulder ached and no amount of rolling would soothe them. A complete tricep tear had put Steve out of commission. His first surgery, his freshman year went well. He could not believe that shitty luck but pressed on. He came back hot and stronger than ever. Until the last game of Sophomore year. Steve had made it to the A-team. There was no ache that could stop him. His sweat and blood forced him to go on and on. He would be number one. He would be captain senior year—he would get sacked that game and let out a cry that turned every head.

 His doctor never gave him the go ahead to return to the game. His life was over. There was so very few people who would understand, so few who could pull him back. He stopped going to class. He stopped planning for what was going to happen next. Then, of the very few, he came. Captain Draal. A goofy big guy, with a serious switch that kept you on edge. Steve had complete respect for his senior, especially when he learned he was openly gay. As a freshmen who recently figured out he was bi, he was an idol. Steve had not been ready to come out though he almost did after hearing a story about Draal whooping a linebackers ass, off school grounds. Officially on the school record, the dispute had been settled with words. Draal was an inspiration for the teachers. Gay Athlete solves confrontation with civil words. Unofficially the kicker texted QB Draal with details, seeing the guy in his neighborhood, at a friend’s party. Draal showed up and threw down. Rumor went, he said if he ever heard him call anyone the F-word  again he’d wish it would be a dick being shoved down his throat.

 Draal was a king. He was the only one to tell Steve he heard how impressed his psyche teachers were with him. That he talked to the counselor about a new sports scholarship. He went from player to counselor. Steve the asshole was becoming Steve the shoulder.

 Working the slow night in the café was horrible. He could hear only an echo of Draal saying, “You’re still going to be great.” Steve asked, “Could I have been captain?” The words yes never hurt so much. How the fuck was he going to help counsel when he still had not gotten over himself?

 “Argentina?” A voice asked, concerned and soft as a mouse.

 Steve was standing at an empty table, his once wet rag dry from the circles he’d been wiping in.

 “Elijah, shit, sorry Pepperjack.” The words came out quicker than either of them could process. Eli shook his head, his brain firing off.

 “Pepperjack?”

 “Your last name.”

 Elijah, turned from his awkward angle at his lone table and faced Steve head on. He watched carefully and pointedly looked at his nametag. “I never told you that.” He was sure of himself, sure as Steve was that he’d been waiting for a moment like this.

 “Didn’t have to.” Weeks of watching and pretending had become exhausting. Arrgghh!!! Was getting annoying, annunciating Argentina everytime they called his name. Constantly saying, “You’ll get his number quicker if you just stop staring.”

 Psych 101, bullying is a form of interpersonal aggression. It is a group phenomenon with social factors contributing and perpetuating different contexts. His first psych class had been to fill a requirement. His teacher however inspired him. Steve took the material and had a true self reflecting moment. He didn’t have the badge to diagnosis himself and did not think he could ever commit to medical school to really get the degree for psychologist. But there was something. Something calling and sticking out. It started when he picked himself apart.

 Why did he harass Elijah Pepperjack? He was strange. He was his own person. He was quiet. A nerd. He was cute. Steve liked it when he raised his hand because no one else volunteered. Seeing him pout made Steve’s chest swell. But. There were environmental factors that made him noticing everything wrong. At the time, he wanted to beat the affection out. Unable to stop himself, he chose to stop Elijah. He tormented the kid because Steve could never face himself.

 Arrgghh!!! Was not wrong. He could get Elijah’s number a lot quicker if he texted Claire, she was on a study abroad trip and was always checking her email. He could even text Jim. They were never close but had a strange bond from some supernatural adventures. He would never text Toby, Domsalski would turn around and text Elijah, Jim, and Claire with a big OH MY GOD.

 Asking would be easier, if he did not have to keep up being Argentina. But being anyone else meant instantly being shut down.

 “Hey,” The voice pipped up again, “Are you okay?” Qualms of the last name were put to the back burner. Steve shook his head. No! It was homecoming night and he was not on the field! He did not even have a date to the dance because the girl he thought he liked he called it off with. For the past three weeks, every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday he’d been thinking about a four eyes. He was right back under his skin and he was just as angry as he had been as a kid.

 “No.” Steve’s reply was clipped and curt. Elijah darted from chair to chair around the café, empty, he gestured to the seat across from him and his laptop. Steve left his rag on the table and took the seat, apparently he left his stomach there too. His gut twisted and turned, knotting on nothingness. Why did this feel like an interview that he lied to get in to? Five years experience required? Sure!

 “So…” Elijah closed his computer and drummed on the lid. The click-click drawing too much attention, he instead fidgeted with his hoodie sleeves, already frayed with years of panic. Steve watched the stickers on the laptop lid as they went down. He learned three fundamental things at the exact same time. First, despite his original findings, Elijah was still into the supernatural. There were three glow-in-the-dark ghost stickers in one corner and a Torchwood emblem at the very center. Second, what was a Creepslayerz and why were there three stickers of the same kind? Third, he needed to say something. Elijah was polite as ever, giving time to the world around while seeking none for himself.

 Silence was getting him nowhere. His counselor encouraged him to make his voice heard. He encouraged players on the team to stand up for what they believed in. Their focus needed to be on the game, not a lie. “Listen Elijah,” Steve did not need to draw his company’s attention. Nothing had been stealing his focus.

 “Do you remember a guy in high school, an ass. Totally handsome. Totally a jerk. Went by Steve, well his name was Steve—is Steve.” He fumbled over his own words, his lie already getting in the way of his focus. The lead did not require much inspiration, Elijah was smart, he didn’t need things to be laid out. A string pulled up on Elijah’s shoulders. His bully, hateful and impractical was supposed to be working in a car shop in Arcadia-Oaks. Not in a coffee shop on a game night. Not looking awkward in a dim light.

 “Steve?” Elijah was not sure. How could he! They looked a lot, of course, he thought Steve was Steve the first cup of coffee the other had made. The name tag was the deal breaker. Elijah could breathe knowing his past was behind him. His arm closed around his stomach, rubbing his side. His past was in front of him.

 “Yeah.”

 Steve’s past was in front of him.

 Steve actually said it! He was the nightmare. He was real. This night fucking sucked. Why not get it all out at once? His knee bounced, Elijah had to say something. Bastard. Why are you here? You ruined my life!

 Silence.

 Elijah locked up, reconciling the worlds.

 He stared and Steve read his thoughts. “I can’t play football anymore.” His shoulders sank at the confession. It hurt telling his mother, his coach, strange how it hurt telling a stranger. Arcadia-Oaks knew Steve to be the man. He posted on Instagram and Facebook constantly with updates and accomplishments. That was before the accident. He let everyone assume he was swept up in college magic, too busy to post. Eli too, had been under that spell.

 “It’s hard.” He answered for him. “And…I’m sorry, dude.” He laughed tight and forced. What had he belittled Eli about? A nerd unable to play ball? This was fucking Karma. “I’m sorry.” The apology came quicker and heavy, taking several breathes from him. “I’m really, fucking sorry.” He called Elijah a cocksucker. All his fears and denials were easy to beat on someone smaller. He couldn’t fight a thought, but he could terrorize a human.

 “Steve, hey man, that’s history. Are-” His lips flapped closed, Elijah nearly asked the same question. Steve was not okay, not even alright. Elijah had time to recover, distance between them had shown him the greatness that awaited him. Hours away from Arcadia was practically the other side of the world. Yet here Steve was, just on the other side of campus.

 “Are you busy tonight?” Elijah asked the unaskable. Steve gawked. Was he hearing him right?

 “What?”

 “What?” Elijah repeated, “I’d like to catch up. With Steve, not Argentina.”

 Warmth bubbled in the back of Steve’s throat. Elijah was always this good, once it made him hate him! Now he wanted his number even more. What sort of person could face their once bully head on? Steve looked at his watch, Elijah’s eyes were too much. They scrutinized and wondered.

“In two hours.”

“Cool. I’ll have my homework done by then.”

“Cool.”

It was not cool, busying himself around the shop, around Elijah. Any by standers wandering in he hoped they steered clear of Eli’s section. He didn’t want to go over and clean up. No way Elijah would mind, it was part of Steve’s job! But Steve minded. He minded a lot. It was too soon, what were they supposed to talk about? Eli’s favorite drink? The way Steve switched between hearts and smiley faces on the dot over the I? He wanted to be obvious. He wanted Elijah’s number—all when he was someone else. Argentina. Not Palchuk.

 Steve joined Elijah outside, wearing a burgundy school hoodie. The Batman symbol glowed on Elijah’s chest. Adorable. Perfect. His eyes flicked away, Elijah moving the straps on his backpack had to be a signal. “So,” What was he supposed to say.

 “Creepslayerz?” Steve had noticed the decal before, he had not realized there were three. All the same exact font.

 “My band.” Elijah grinned, he started them walking ahead, following the sidewalks under the yellow street lights.

 “You have a band? You, Elijah Pepperjack?” In high school Elijah had been into theatre. They bumped shoulders when Steve applied for the leading role—just for a kiss—more of anything to piss Jim off.

 “I do. I help write music. We actually have a light show,” Elijah pointed to himself. His shoulders rocked from side to side, a proud shuffle. “Designed that myself. Helps working as a stage hand for the school plays.” Steve could see that. The technical stuff, he doubted the band had much ground to it, but what would Elijah be able to do with a real budget?

 “So you help write the music? You don’t preform…?”

 “Sometimes. But Krel is really the face of the band. Aja too. She’s our hypeman.” Dancer, number one fan, Krel’s sister so she might as well be in the band. Her position only stayed unofficial to prevent a guilt trip commitment. Aja was president of the robotics club and treasurer of the international club. Her time was divided and the duo didn’t want to keep her.

 “Claire inspire you, huh?”

 Elijah pulled a tight face. Not really, Claire was great and they were on similar paths but completely different styles. He hadn’t talked to her in ages.

 “Krel and Aja though, huh?”

 “Transfer students from Cantalupa.”

 “Well that sounds made up.”

 “Yeah well, I think Krel makes up a lot of things. Then makes it real when you’re not looking, so I just go with it.” His smile grew, his eyes looked beyond one foot in front of the other, a place of fondness. A place where Steve wasn’t.

 “You two close?”

 “Yeah, I mean, we’re friends. Roommates freshman year, roommates now.”

 Steve nodded. He missed out on three years, four years before that, and more before that. “How come you’re not in the paranormal club?”

 Elijah looked to Steve, a grin growing, “you know I’m not?”

 “Well. I just. I’m in it so—”

 “You? You’re in it?” Elijah shook his head, no way! Not Steve!

 Steve grinned, doubt, everyone doubted that fact. “Yes way, Eli. I like. The spooky shit. The strange. All the junk you used to go on and on about.”

 “You’re serious?”

 “As the plague.”

 Elijah covered his mouth, his smile too big for a lame joke.

 “Why? You didn’t believe in it, do you now?”

 “Aliens? No. Chupacabras—we’ve had some heated discussions and have come to agree they’re racoons. Which, then they say Aliens are real. They’re left by aliens. I just say the Chupa—” Steve reeled himself in. He straightened his shoulders and quickened his walk. “Ghosts, yeah.”

 “Trolls?” Elijah’s stride double to meet Steve’s walk.

 “Haven’t met one yet.” Steve looked at him, letting the suggestion sink in.

 “So you’ve seen a ghost?”

 “Mhm. Well. I mean other than you tonight.” Another lame joke, Steve’s laugh was tight and Elijah’s exuberant.

 “That is so wicked cool! Are you guys going on any hunts?” He bounced up and down, hopping in front of Steve, completely serious.

 “Are you serious?”

 Elijah nodded and tugged on his backpack.

 “I mean yeah, it’s October. We always get fair-weather attendees so you coming won’t be a problem.”

 He groaned and spun on his feet, he couldn’t believe the club was active! Discussions and ghost hunts! “I never joined because I joined international club, thanks to Krel and Aja. Then there was the band, I got a job at one of the computer labs.” Matching his schedule to a half-interested club where he’d be nitpicked was not on the to-do list. College was going to be the change, no longer the nerd hiding in the closet. Really, he’d been missing on the chance to share his passion.

 “Alright, okay, so you’ll invite me?” Eli let his words hands, his hands wiggled a neon green phone case. Oh. Oh—shit! He was about to score the number, “Um-uh,” He stuttered, smiling and laughing at himself. His hands patted his front pockets, his back and dipped into his hoodie pockets.

 “Phew,” His phone stuck against his hand, he was actually sweating. “What’s your number?” He typed as quick as he sent Elijah a text. Immediately Elijah replied with a ‘got it!’ Not like Steve was literally standing there.

 ‘Dork’ Steve texted.

 ‘Thought you were more of a butt-snack type of guy?’ Elijah watched Steve read, smirking when his lips curled into a smile.

 “Okay, now we’re getting into full sentences. I can’t walk and type.”

 “We’re standing still,” Elijah gestured around them. “Wow Steve, first night back together and already leaving me hanging? Impressive.”

 ‘Now you’re a butt snack’ He added an emoji of a peach, Elijah bumped their shoulders together. “I’m kidding.”