#sorry this is a disaster of style mixes

[qpjianghu]

"When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it." --Caitlyn Siehl, 'Start Here'

[robinniko]

Have you done a follow forever? If not can you make a list? I am totally curious now after your tags. Also love that your blog is a mix of everything.

I have not done a follow forever!!! I am so excited you sent this bc I really wanted to do one!!!!!

@h-isforhome @coffeeisaritual @28cum @cantchangemypast @lamefights @bloodonthedrums @amsterdamlouie @louisarmpits @tommos @kieumy @officialghost @tryhoney @stoned-styles @ashleyyroses @munsonsuccubus @anchorandrope @crimsonfated @goldplated-disaster @stripesysheaven @dahliaaz @graveyarrdshift @srldesigns6277 @theeliampayne @nouies @enigmaticpink @enchantedlandcoffee @muppet4muppett @loverrrrrr17 @superscut @goodriddancegracie @maryoliveoil @taylorswiftaylor @aintmyjewelry @columbusswift @verdantsecretgardens @auswiftic @runwayblues @louisthiccsexyglitteryass @frolencewelch @whenyouvequitefinished @matrixrry @the-girl-almighty @abba-enthusiast @nicogayngelo @hazlouquitefinished @notsomeholylight @slutdick @sunflowerwemadeit @cuzimablogger @bloodmoonlich

i'm very sorry because I definitely forgot people but i love all my mutuals very much!!!! <3

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #7: In Pie We Crust

Prompt: morsel || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: This is one time I'm not sorry for a pun. This is your only warning about what's coming, have a snack ready. YOU ARE WELCOME.

---

Rereha was a grown woman, halfway through her thirties, had helped save the world multiple times over, but absolutely nothing reverted her to being a twelve-year old sproglet like Angharad Greywolfe’s baking.

The kitchen in the Greywolfe ancestral seat wasn’t as familiar to her as the one in Isolde Greywolfe’s ostentatious manor was; the furniture was different, the shelves of different placement and style and material. But the layout was, almost to the ilm, the same, with a great table as the centerpiece. Aunt Angharad’s influence, certainly, as even with a score of servants manning the household, the Greywolfe matriarch preferred to make the kitchen her domain, to her good-sister’s continued bafflement.

Considering how large and heavy the table was, how darkened and worn the surface, Rere suspected that whatever Garlean household had squatted here during the occupation had decided trying to move the thing was more trouble than it was worth.

The chairs, though, were new, more like stools to accommodate the height of the work table, and Rereha perched on a lalafell-appropriate one, hands flat on the tabletop as she watched Aunt Angharad flit about her kitchen like a hunting hawk. Next to her, Lyse did similar.

“I think the last time I had a proper fruit pie,” Lyse said, her voice dripping with wistful lust, “was just before that damned banquet.”

Aunt Angharad nearly tripped over her own feet in her haste to pivot and stare at Lyse, just as Rere whipped her head around with a horrified squawk. “Lyse.”

Lyse nodded. “S’true. The Resistance cell that Papalymo and I stayed with when we snuck across the Wall had a good supply line, but any fresh fruit they got was dried for better storage, and wheat was for bread and hard tack—”

Rere and Lyse both went rap-rap with their knuckles against the wood, and shared a conspiratorial giggle.

“—and whatever pies were made were meat ones,” Lyse finished. “Pretty tasty, though! I’d forgotten how much I loved gazelle meat. But then we were scrambling back home, and the whole thing with the Griffin…” She paused again, breathing deep, and Rere leaned over to hug her as Aunt Angharad pushed a mug of spiced tea towards her. Lyse returned the hug, then sat up to reach for the mug and sip from it. “Thanks. So, the huge disaster Ilberd made, and then we were running around Gyr Abania and Othard and then I was suddenly given a leadership position and staying in Ala Mhigo, and here we are! I mean, sure, I’ve attended a few formal functions in Eorzea, but those only have the cute little cakes and cookies for dessert. And I’m a good little Gyr Abanian girl, I can and will fight Synnove for the last piece of kunifeh, but pie.”

“Mother Miounne’s blueberry pie,” Rere said dreamily.

Lyse moaned and thunked her head against the table. “With peach ice cream from the Bismarck! Oooohhhh, the way it melts right into the blueberry and makes this cold-and-hot sticky yummy fruit mess on the plate and in your mouth…”

Rere could taste the memory on her tongue as vivid as if she had just shoveled blueberries and ice cream into her mouth, and groaned rapturously.

“Well,” Aunt Angharad laughed setting down a pie tin, “it’s not blueberry, but something tells me that won’t disappoint you girls.”

Rereha and Lyse leaned forward, oohing and aahing in excited delight.

The top crust was perfectly golden brown and no doubt delicious, strips of dough layered into a lattice work as tightly-woven as any picnic basket and encrusted with a cinnamon-sugar mix before being baked. The edges had been neatly crimped, then pressed down with a fork so that the tines made pretty little impressions. A few strategic openings in the lattice allowed steam to escape, curling and dancing upwards and bringing with it the familiar scent of rich cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg and most importantly, cooked, tart apple.

Rereha and Lyse both took deep, appreciative lungfuls, holding the deliciousness in their noses before letting out sighs of pure happiness.

Aunt Angharad chuckled, and made the first cut. The pastry cracked satisfyingly and a shiver went down Rereha’s spine. Aw, yeah, she thought, reaching up to wipe away the drool from her mouth, Angharad Greywolfe’s own pie dough.

“Pie! Pie! Pie! Pie!” Lyse was chanting quietly, staring with huge eyes. Rereha started thumping her hands against the table in accompaniment.

One slice, two slices. With the deft expertise of the experience home cook, Aunt Angharad plated each one without losing any of the filing. Beautiful, spice-covered slices of apple glistened in the kitchen light, before it began to gently ooze out of shape and onto each plate.

Lyse’s stomach made a gurgling noise. Rereha’s followed.

Aunt Angharad’s expressions could properly be called “deeply smug.” She set a fork on each plate, and then gently slid them so they sat perfectly in front of them.

“Do enjoy, girls,” she said, sing-song, with the assurance that would do nothing less.

Rereha picked up her fork. So did Lyse. They clacked forks together, then used them to cut off a large piece of apple pie, and shove said pieces into their own mouths. And moaned.

The crust, as always, was perfectly flaky and soft and good in its own right, made with a combination of sweet cream butter and lard to create the lovely little layers. The crunch beneath Rereha’s teeth was oh-so-satisfying, especially against the soft apple slices.

The sugar-spice blend was cinnamon-dominant, as it should be, the other spices mixed with it added sparingly to enhance rather than overwhelm. Just a hint of the nutmeg, the warmth of ginger, and ooooh, yes, there was the star anise. Rereha continued to chew slowly, savoring each and every bit of this truly divine experience. Along with the sugar that Aunt Angharad had tossed the apples in, it was almost candy-like with how the sugar had caramelized as it cooked. Not quite enough to be a chewy treat in and of itself, of course, but more like a sauce, thick and rich and sweeeeeeeet. So, so, so good. And then the wonderful tartness of the apple, bright enough to cut through the sweet and ensure that the fruit was all that was left on the tongue in delicious memory as Rereha swallowed.

Rereha closed her eyes and sighed. “I love you so much, Auntie,” she said, opening her eyes to claim another bite. Beside her, Lyse was still making frankly obscene noises, cheeks bulging as she continued to chew her first huge bite.

Angharad’s laugh echoed from the other end of the kitchen, and she poked her head in from the cold room. A devious smile was on her lips. “Want some vanilla ice cream for that?”

Lyse nearly choked as she joined Rere’s shriek of, “YES!”

[sweetestpopcorn]

I remember the reason why Daeron I didn't have any regency period is because Viserys feared that some sort of same disaster would happen like how it happened during his brother Aegon III's regency. But then again Aegon III didn't have any adult male relative like Daeron I does. There were only Baela and Rhaena who were prevented from playing any role in politics both because of their inexperience but also mainly because of their sex. So here with Daeron I, Viserys could've named himself both regent and Hand (which he already was) until Daeron comes of age. What do you think? Could this be one of Viserys' bad decisions that don't make any sense? I'd like to know your thoughts in this.

Hi there and sorry for this delay!

I would say that when we have personally seen someone do something and the result was not good - i.e., Viserys witnessing Aegon III's regency - the logical thing would be to not do that and choose differently since the definition of insanity would be to try the same thing over and over again and expect a different result. Kind of like mixing salt and water and expecting something other than salty water as the outcome. So at the outset, I would not say that this was a bad decision on Viserys II's part, or something that doesn't make sense. Let's dig a little deeper though.

Of course that then we can argue it was not the same situation between Aegon III and Daeron. That Daeron, unlike Aegon III, was not a traumatised boy who had been through war and witness several atrocities, worse amongst them, his own mother being fed to his uncle's dragon by said uncle. Furthermore, and concerning Aegon III, many of the regents themselves had played a role in his mother's downfall and death. Again, this was not the case with Viserys and Daeron. There was no one Daeron's father was closer to than with his brother. But on this line, we should also consider the ages at which Daeron and Aegon III came to the throne. Daeron was already 14 while Aegon III was still shy of 10. Daeron would only need 2 years (maybe a bit less) of a regency period, Aegon III would need a bit over 6 years.

On the other side, we don't really know what kind of relationship Viserys II had with his nephew Daeron, though from what we are shown, the two didn't seem especially close. Hells, Viserys was not even that close with his own children since as said he had grown quite stern and cold after Larra left him.

Given all of this it might have been that for once, Viserys didn't think it was worth the trouble to have two years of regency. Maybe he didn't want to risk straining the relationship he had with Daeron, or even he didn't wish for a dismissal on the style that Torrhen Manderly had. Instead, he would count his losses and remain close to power by not stirring the waters too much.

In other words, Viserys likely decided he would "keep sweet" and be kept as Hand which would assure a better damage control in the long run that if he pushed for a regency that could potentially make Daeron dismiss him. Dismissed, he would be powerless to do anything, much like it became true of Torrhen, difference is, Aegon III was competent and Daeron was... Daeron :) it's as nice as I can put it.

Viserys was nothing if not shrewd, admired by Tyrion himself, and from where I'm standing, seems like he made the right call... on this at least, but the rest is talk for another day.

All the best.

[malachiexists13]

My first impression of the Ikemen Villains guys:

[Disclaimer: I know nothing about these characters asides from the descriptions shared around Tumblr. I probably won't play the game any time soon considering that its being first released in Japanese, so unless it later on gets released in English, I won't play. Also this post is partially a joke, don't take me too seriously.]

William Rex

He gives off a more "evil, avoid at all costs, worldwide disaster" vibe than Gilbert ever did. My first thought upon seeing him was, "omg- Vlad???" But then I read his description and thought, "ohhh. So Vlad, but evil. Like if Vlad and Motonari had a baby..."

Harrison Gray

First thought, "yo, Edgar, what are you doing here??" Like bro does look like Edgar, even his description screams Edgar to me. I've seen others compare him with Nokto, but I havent paid much attention to Nokto so maybe thats why I cant see it? Idk. But yeah, I guess since Ikerev is over, Edgar had to find a new profession :/

Liam Evans

Omg, look. Loki grew up, he's a big kid now!

Idk how to really react to this one? Like, ok, he's got the chesire cat curse or whatever, he looks a bit like Loki, ..and he's supposed to be sexy? I mean, I see the vibe they were going for. But if they try to shove that "drop-dead gorgeous" or "sexy ladies man" shit down our throats like they did with Yoshimoto and Shingen in Ikesen (could also probably find other examples in the other games..) then I might end up hating him.

ALSO HIS POSE AND SORTA HIS OUTFIT REMINDS ME OF YVES-

Elbert Greetia

Omg its Chevalier but if he was actually angsty. Or maybe it's just Lancelot.

Ok- so its mostly like the hair that screams both Lancelot and Chevalier to me. Its Lancelot's style but Chev's color. And the eyes could easily be a mix of both-

But he also kinda reminds me of Satan from Obey Me, with the whole "obsessively collects beautiful things and leaves them untidy in his room." That's literally Satan but with books, but Satan also likes beautiful things.

Alfons Slyvatica

Omg is that Sebastian Michaelis?? (Im sorry- Ive never even seen Black Butler, I'll go home now-)

Idk. Ive seen others compare him to like, Jean but evil. I look at him and see Sebastian Michaelis. Or maybe like, Kicho because of the hair. But then the line "With his consistent dishonesty, he teases you, but-" makes me think of, strangely, Mitsuhide?

Roger Barel

I've seen other compare him to Jin. I look at him and see Loid Forger. Which funny enough, his VA, Eguchi Takuya, also voices Loid Forger-

Its mostly the hair style, and the face, and the glasses- like if he was blonde, with blue (is it blue-? Or does Loid have green-?) eyes then he'd look even more like Loid. I cant really think of any ikemen series characters he reminds me of, at least not appearance. But with the part in his description that says "An egoist who seems rational and will go to any lengths for his own research." makes me think of Faust for some reason..

Jude Jazza

He doesnt immediately remind me of anyone. Ive seen comparisons to Clavis and Silvio, which kinda makes sense? I guess I could see it. The uhh "A twisted man, he has a promise he wants to fulfill and a sullen heart." at first made me think of Mitsuhide. But then I remembered the definition of sullen and that doesnt fit Mitsu. But I guess the having many enemies and being seen as a cold-blooded person who loves the despair and misfortune of others DOES fit Mitsuhide, at least on the surface. Idk. Im bad at analysis like this.

But also like- I share a birthday with this man. Like the exact same date, Dec. 13. So im gonna end up HATING him.

Ellis Twilight

His appearance doesnt really remind me of anyone right away. But his description of being somewhat disturbing yet kind and gentle to everyone, being strangely obsessed with other people's "Happiest Moments in Life" and the having a "love" that he wants to prove makes me think of Charles.

But like, the opposite. Because Charles wants someone to love him, while it seems like Ellis wants to prove his love to someone? So... Charles but emo.

Victor

So.. A lot of people speculate he's the one who put the curses on the others, because his own curse is scratched out. Like we cant read it. Some have compared him to Sariel, because he's like the guide in the game. But also uhh- sorta reminds me of Amon. Maybe its the long hair (probably is).

[ash5381]

I've basically just had the idea of making different Eurovision artists Pokémon teams but I can't draw and I'm putting my idea out there incase anyone would like to draw this. I will also give a bit of my thought process for each team. I may end up adding more later on as I think of more teams for people. You will be able to see which ones I put the most thought into.

Nemo:

Milotic, oricorio pa,u style, plusle, whismur, delcatty, mew.

For oricorio it reminded me of their outfit at Eurovision. I couldn't think of any clownfish Pokémon so I picked milotic because in gen 3 you you need to max out it's beauty stat for contests to evolve feebas into milotic and that somehow reminds me of how Nemo dresses how they want to. Plusle pairs with someone else. Whismur is a sound based Pokémon. I tried giving everyone a mythical which suited them and I thought mew suited Nemo the best.

Silvester:

Togekiss, servine, sylveon, ribombee, minun, jirachi

I got the idea for servine from the music video for tyliai, tyliai. I just thought a bunch of fairy types suited him. Mínum pairs with plusle. Jirachi was the mythical I thought suited him best.

Bambie:

Absol, alteria, duskull, grimmsnarl, gothitelle, marshadow

Absol is a misunderstood Pokémon, people believe to causes disasters but it actually earns them of the incoming disasters. Grimmsnarl is just here because of it's typing of dark/fairy which I think suits Bambie well, they are a sweet person but people view them differently because of their music and the way they dress. That is also the reason for a mix of cute Pokémon and I don't know how describe the rest. I think gothitelle suits their vibe. I'm just going to stop with explaining the mythicals, I just thought it was the best mythical for them.

Luke:

Crawdaunt, greavard, rotom, hypno, musharna, shaymin

These were much simpler thought processes. Crawdaunt=lobster. Greavard because small cute dog that fits his vibe and I don't think there are any pug Pokémon. Rotom because of his song glitch. Hypno and musharna because they are to do with sleep.

Baby lasagna:

Luxray, meowscarada, litten, meowstic (male), meowstic (female), toxtricity.

Cats and cool Pokémon that uses it's chest as a guitar. It is as simple as that. That's the thought process. Later thought, other Pokémon that could fit are miltank, tauros, the mareep line and mudsdale.

Jure maček:

Skitty, espurr, liepard, Persian, glameow, rilaboom.

Cats and a drummer. I don't think my thought process could be simpler here.

(First update)

Nace Jordan:

Gengar, lilligant, noivern, dachsbun, chikorita, sandshrew.

He likes gengar. Dachsbun reminds me of his dog, I'm sorry I can't remember the name. There aren't any Pokémon that play bass so he got a different music based Pokémon. All of joker out have a Pokémon linked to what they do in the band except nace. Lilligant pairs with a Pokémon I gave to someone else. Yes I will keep giving people 2 Pokémon that are eachothers counterparts. I don't know why I picked sandshrew, it kind fits his vibe.

Kaarija:

Bulbasaur, zorua, riolu, buizel, spheal, bagon

I don't think bulbasaur needs to be explained. These are all Pokémon I think are cute and evolve into Pokémon that are cool and rather strong. I got the idea for the rest of the team from bulbasaur.

Filip Baloš:

Alolan meowth, smeargle, grafaiai, kickitune, leavanny, arboliva

Meowth is here because he has a cat. Smeargle is a painter like him. Grafaiai is the only other art related Pokémon. Kickitune, arboliva and leavanny are all Pokémon that artist characters use within the games.

[vulturereyy]

Hi! If it isn't much of a bother...could you share some Mettah HCs? <3

I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer this! The short answer is... I'm really bad at open ended questions ahah and the things I say don't always feel like they're ?? satisfying to someone who asked a question?? But I've put this off long enough, so I'm just gonna go off the top of my head:

Mettah's childhood nickname(s) from Hegemol were often food related, including but not limited to: Honeydrop (which his also his surname, so she was Honeydrop Honeydrop for a time), Nectar, Honeydew, and his favorite was a mix of these words to call her his little dollop of ____. Most of these names focused on her orange color.

Lurien, on the other hand, stuck for calling her his sunshine. Both because she was orange, and because she is the light of his life.

Mettah is just barely taller than Lurien, and she lauds that single inch over him like a throne.

Mettah is not a fighter, and doesn't take up true combat training from either of her fathers, but she does learn self defense.

Her weapon of choice is a crossbow, when she has to use it.

Mettah is well-versed in the arts by Lurien, and is a painter almost as skilled as he is. However, she eventually grows into her own style of outsider-esque art, and moves toward making art with a message or purpose.

Mettah puts her art skills to use to paint and graffiti pro-union propaganda for the menderbugs as the kingdom starts back up, and becomes a big advocate for worker's rights.

Lurien offers the side of the spire for her various murals, and he cannot be more proud.

Mettah loves the city just as much as her fathers do and did, and follow in their footsteps to take care of it in her own way.

Mettah is a disaster sapphic who is down bad for anyone who is niceys to her tbh and also anyone who is gruff and stoic. and also anyone inbetween.

Mettah loves her favorite (family friend) uncle, @grollow's Grimm, and definitely doesn't have the eyes for his daughter. Don't worry about it.

"Your head looks like a pastry!" Is the very first thing she ever said to Grimm once she could speak. She's been holding that in since she was a water-bound nymph.

Originally, Mettah was not going to be biologically Hegemol's. My Lurien is trans and has the facilities to carry an egg, and thus, Hegemol was worried for Lurien's health if he were to be the sire, just given their size difference. However, I settled on the fact that she would be both of theirs, as the two of them could seek out assistance from the White Lady in peering into Lurien's clutch in the early stages and culling all but the one that would be best for his health to carry. They did not specify any traits except for Lurien's and the egg's health. (Lurien wouldn't have been able to safely carry more than one egg at a time anyway so a cull would have happened no matter what)

I decided that she was Hegemol's after I drew all these images, so I think I'm going to give her two little horn nubs like her beetle father to match this :) But a mostly-damselfly egg would have also been the safest for Lurien to carry, hence why she looks so much more like him than Hegemol.

They don't know where she got her orange. Recessive gene magic babey. She is for sure theirs though.

Mettah loves arson. Like, a lot.

[softquietsteadylove]

For the 2nd part: The angst starts here...Gil visiting and also brought some lunch for them but Thena just give him a cold shoulder. But he couldn't figure out why and she's all snappy and sarcastic suddenly saying that she thinks he's liking his new team now to be considering to be there permanently. And Gil addressed it calmly that he never considered it and he wanted to be back immediately on her team. But she just asked him to leave even though she doesn't want him to.

What Thena didn't know is Gil was there to talk to her before leaving for a mission, a mission that is very risky and dangerous but he never got to tell it to Thena.

"Boss?"

Gil stepped into Thena's hurricane of an office. She always kept it neat, although sometimes if he opened up her desk drawers they would be an absolute disaster. But currently she had files sitting everywhere, some open, some closed, some jamming her paper shredder.

It wasn't like her to be so out of sorts.

"Thena?" he tried again, stepping in and pulling the door closed behind him. He set down the lunch he brought her on the desk.

"Not now."

He frowned at the sharp tone of her voice. It wasn't like her to be snappy. Cold, sure--terrifying, to some. But she wasn't usually like this with him. "You okay?"

She finally turned to look at him, but she seemed...angry. Not necessarily pissed off, but...annoyed? There was a mix of a few things in those stunning eyes of hers.

Gil sighed as he adjusted his bag strap on his shoulder. He knew she had a meeting with the brass, and he was sure his transfer had come up as a topic. But he wasn't allowed to ask directly about it until his probation was up. "Did things go well?"

"Ask Minerva."

Gil raised a brow at that. Thena was many things, but petty?--no. Passive-aggressive wasn't really the Goddess of War's style.

"She was singing your praises," Thena finally said more than a few words to him, although she still seemed agitated. She slapped some files down on her desk. "Thinks you're really liking Extrication."

"Like is probably a strong word," he shrugged. He hadn't screwed anything up, yet. Not that he did much of anything other than follow orders and fill out paperwork.

"Really?" Thena examined him in a way that made him feel like they were strangers. "She's quite in favour of your transfer being permanent."

"What?" Gil leaned forward on her desk as well, matching her rather combative stance. "No one brought that up to me."

Thena looked like she was about to say something but bit down on the inside of her lip. She looked down at her desk, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. "It was a surprise to me too."

Gil melted a little. She seemed so...downtrodden. He had asked Kingo at length how she was doing since he had been transferred. Kingo was certainly at his wit's end about it, but he still obliged him and told him every time Thena had a bad day, or tried to stay late in the office, or forgot to eat lunch.

"Is it-" Thena started and the paused, dropping her rigid posture until she was all but slouching. She looked down at the desk, "is that something you want?"

No. No, he wanted to be back in Special Ops--he wanted to be with her, again. "No, and I didn't think-"

"Well, Minerva thinks," Thena cut him off, and he could feel herself trying to saw off the feelings of hers he was getting too close to discovering. "And the Chief thinks so, too."

"Well, I don't care what they think," Gil said gently, trying to get a look at that face that brought him more peace than he thought possible in a line of work like this one. She avoided his eyes. "I want to be here."

"Gil," Thena looked up, again seeming on the brink of something before swallowing it. And it seemed like a big pill to swallow. "I...I'm sorry, I can't do lunch today."

"Oh," he blinked, deflating some. He reached slowly for the lunch he had brought her before pulling his hand back. Maybe she would eat it once she sorted out whatever had her so mad.

She turned again, shaking her head and drawing her shoulders up. She swiped at something on her face before rifling through her files again, "later?"

"Uh," he gulped, looking down at his phone, "yeah. Yeah--later."

"Hm."

He walked out of her office slowly, hoping to get another look from her. But she was focused in front of her. He closed the door again just as quietly.

Gil, you on your way?

He sighed. The operation was big; high risk and high reward. It was so big that even he was being dragged into it, minimal experience and everything.

I'll be there.

[pudding-parade]

Sorry for making this a post @thebleedingwoodland, but this was just too long for comments.

So, as part of a conversation about this post regarding the problematic nature of, specifically, Shang Simla, there was this reply:

And my response, cut in order to spare your dash:

See, that's the thing! As a USian, I wouldn't be at all insulted by a "Simerica" world being represented by an Eiffel Tower icon. I would go "WTF?" and then think it hilarious and just play the world. But that isn't the same as a supposedly Chinese world being represented by a torii icon, because Japan and China are historical enemies, whereas the US and France have been allies since before the US was a country and before France was a republic. A closer equivalent in insult, I think, would be a "Simerica" world represented by a hammer and sickle or something recognizably Russian, like a silhouette of St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow or something like that. That might anger some USians because the US and Russia are historical enemies. (I, personally, would think it weird but still wouldn't be insulted, but I might be in the minority there.)

The others…I certainly wouldn't be insulted by a burger and spaghetti served on the same plate. In fact, as I type this, I'm eating tamales (a traditional Mexican food that my Mexican mother-in-law made for me) and a bowl of Chinese-style fried rice for dinner, and later I'm going to have a slice of fresh-baked apple pie and some ice cream for dessert. I'm pretty sure I've seen a combo meal of burgers and spaghetti on the menu in a few US diners. I'm not sure how Italians would feel about that, but I don't think any American would give it a second thought. Give me all the stereotypical cowboy gun duels, please (because in a fictional setting they're cool, and I live in what was the "Old West"), and, indeed, a significant portion of US citizens are overweight/obese (though I have the opposite problem, due to a chronic condition), so portraying them that way would just be accurate. Make them all have a "rude" or "loud" trait, and we're in business. (And I'd be LMAO.)

I think the overall issue here is that American corporations cater to Americans, and the US in general sucks at cultural sensitivity. Mix that with American exceptionalism and you have a recipe for disaster. I could be wrong, but I think this is partly because the US is populated mostly by immigrants combined with the fact that US culture varies greatly from region to region, precisely because US citizens have all sorts of backgrounds on top of the usual differences between urban and rural people. As such, there is no unifying American culture, nor is there any major aspect of it that is particularly unique to here and that would be considered insulting if not portrayed properly. Instead, it's a "culture" stitched together from pieces of many others. I'm going to guess that this is why many Americans don't fully grasp why culture is so important to people in other countries or even among certain marginalized groups here in the US. In turn, I would imagine that people from other countries/cultures, particularly countries that are fairly monocultural for whatever reason, often don't understand how Americans are or can be OK with the cultural "melting pot" that America is ideally supposed to be.

In the end, I think the goal with the WA worlds was not accuracy -- which would, indeed, require research -- but rather simply creating an easily recognizable backdrop for the quests. Unfortunately, that only requires, in Shang Simla's case, including anything that "looks Chinese," and that was as far as EA's "thinking" went. So you have the Great Wall and Japanese torii and, of all things, completely American "Chinese" things like fortune cookies and egg rolls. I'm not saying that this is a good thing. It isn't. At all. I think it's terrible (though unfortunately not surprising) that the average USian can't tell the difference between things that are Chinese and things that are Japanese. Worse, it's terrible that many also don't understand why mashing together things from those cultures is insulting to both of them. I'm just saying that that's what it is. EA should have done better, but they didn't. USians in general should do better, just as people in other countries should do better than believe that people not from their own country/culture are all one way or another. But, this is the world we live in, at least for now.

[themovieblogonline]

HBO’s "Lanterns" – Can Green Lantern Finally Get It Right?

You know what they say: third time’s the charm! Josh Brolin passes on Green Lantern. After the infamous 2011 Green Lantern movie disaster (I mean, even Ryan Reynolds wants to forget it), HBO’s new Lanterns series aims to finally do Hal Jordan, John Stewart, and the Green Lantern Corps some justice. And this time, they’re trying to mix that superhero action with the gritty crime vibes of True Detective. Can we get a round of applause for that? But the real question is, will it work? Josh Brolin Bounces – What Could Have Been Let’s get the biggest news out of the way—Josh Brolin won’t be suiting up as Hal Jordan. Yeah, the internet was buzzing when it was rumored that Brolin might put on that shiny ring, but the Avengers star decided to pass. Can’t blame the guy though—after killing it as Thanos and Cable, maybe he’s done with saving or destroying the world for a minute. Lanterns had its eyes set on Brolin to play an older, seasoned Hal Jordan, reluctantly mentoring a younger John Stewart. The idea of having Brolin mentor the next generation of Lanterns would’ve been a home run for DC fans. His gruff, no-nonsense style would have matched that gritty True Detective vibe they’re going for in the series. But now that Brolin has turned down the offer, the producers are back to square one. Rumors had swirled about other A-listers stepping into Jordan’s shoes, but one thing’s for sure: Matthew McConaughey won’t be picking up the ring either. Sorry! The Gritty, Noir Vibe of Lanterns Now let’s talk about the series itself. Lanterns is shaping up to be a darker, more grounded take on the Green Lantern saga. Imagine Hal Jordan and John Stewart in a buddy-cop, detective noir with intergalactic stakes. According to insiders, it’ll be like True Detective meets the DC Universe, which is definitely a new angle for a superhero series. Instead of flying through space battling CGI aliens (though we’ll probably still get some of that), the show will focus on a murder investigation that could have massive implications for the universe. Hal Jordan, the jaded veteran, will mentor John Stewart, a fresh-faced young Lantern, and their relationship will be the heart of the series. The contrast between the two characters should provide plenty of sparks, especially if they nail that gritty, dramatic tone. With Ozark’s Chris Mundy as the showrunner and the creative genius of Damon Lindelof (Lost, Watchmen) behind the scenes, expectations are sky-high for Lanterns. These are writers who know how to create tension, depth, and character-driven stories. If they bring that same magic to the Green Lantern Corps, we might finally have the Green Lantern adaptation we deserve. Casting Choices – What’s Next? Now that Josh Brolin passes, it’s back to the drawing board for casting Hal Jordan. Will DC go for another big name or take a chance on a rising star? It’s clear they’re looking for someone with gravitas—someone who can make us forget the Green Lantern of 2011. No easy task, but it’s exciting to see who they’ll tap next. On the flip side, casting John Stewart is equally important. John is one of DC’s most beloved Black superheroes, and his inclusion in the show is a big deal. Fans have been waiting to see him in live-action for years, and they deserve a portrayal that does him justice. The right actor could help launch John into the pop culture stratosphere, right alongside heroes like Black Panther and Luke Cage. If HBO can pull this off, Lanterns could be the show that finally makes Green Lantern cool again. And after what happened in 2011, that’s a ring worth chasing. (Source: THR) Read the full article

[archivallyfound09]

Everything's Perfect

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader (f), (no y/n)

Warnings: Swearing, teeth-rotting fluffiness, fall themes

Setting: Post Top Gun: Maverick (no spoilers)

You wrapped your arms around your body, pulling the mustard yellow knitted cardigan around your waist in an attempt to keep warm. You had been standing out on the front porch, staring at the lake in front of you. The leaves were like a multi-colored stained glass window, their reds and oranges turning to a blended mix in the rippling water. You sighed and leaned against the white pillar of the Craftsman style lake house.

You hadn't realized you were fiddling with one of the fraying corners of the sweater when you felt two arms wrap around you from behind. You jumped and accidentally pressed further into the strong chest that was now holding you captive. A chin came to rest on your shoulder and you smiled, immediately recognizing the body behind you.

"Ya know, you're supposed to also enjoy the food you're cooking..." Rooster's voice was low and tickled your ear. You giggled and turned slightly in his grasp to partially face him, swatting at him. He gave you a million dollar grin- permanently lopsided as usual.

"Just needed some air," Rooster raised an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes, your hand coming into contact with his chest, "the kitchen was hot. That's all. Honestly." You gave him a genuine smile and he leaned forward, pecking your lips quickly.

"Come on, everybody's inside and they're afraid you poisoned the food and left the scene of the crime," Rooster smirked and started to drag you back into the house by the waist as you laughed again, deciding not to drag your feet too much as you left the crisp fall air.

The sight that greeted you when you entered back into the lake house was enough to make your smile widen and hurt your cheeks. Half the group was on their way outside, a football being tossed around between Yale and Fanboy as they barely made it out of the living room without knocking over a chair.

Phoenix and Bob were off to the side in the kitchen, cleaning dishes and finish the now-empty bottle of wine that was hidden behind the breadbox. You rolled your eyes as Phoenix spotted you and raised her glass to you in a toast. Bob gave you a sheepish look and shrugged, soapy water splashing onto the counter as you shook your head.

Your eyes traveled to the long dining room table in front of you. Payback, Coyote, Halo, and Fritz remain at the table, eagerly eyeing the four pies you had placed on the table. When they saw Rooster bring you back inside, they all looked at you with puppy dog eyes, begging to dig into the pies. You laughed and waved them on, suddenly afraid of someone losing a finger at the attack assault on the desserts mounted.

Rooster pulled you closer to him and absently placed a kiss on the top of your head. You felt a slight blush creep onto your cheeks but were shaken from it when you saw Hangman hanging halfway off the couch, a beer precariously perched in his hand as slight snores filled the space in front of the television. You patted Rooster's hand and stepped out of his grasp, heading for the potential clean-up disaster that was beer on the rug.

Rooster watched every micro-movement as you detangled Hangman's large grip from the beer bottle, placing his now-empty hand on his chest with a few pats. Hangman stirred a bit and then turned on his side, still fast asleep. You raised the bottle to Rooster in a show of victory and he gave you an impressed slow-clap with a laugh. You tossed the bottle into the trash as you headed into the kitchen, the previous occupants joining the dessert task force at the table.

"I'm sorry," you ventured quietly as Rooster stepped over the threshold into the kitchen and sat down on the stool at the center island. He pursed his lips but waited for you to continue. You took in a shaky breath, your hand resting sharply on the edge of the sink, your back to the Naval aviator.

"I'm sorry you have to go."

Rooster let out an unfeeling chuckle, shaking his head. "Darlin," you turned to face him at the nickname, "I think I'm the one that's supposed to be apologizing for leaving. You're staying right here, right?" The question came as an afterthought and you quickly nodded your head, a solemn look still veiling your face.

"Then no need to apologize," he offered his hand to you across the island and you took a step, placing your hand in his palm. "I'm sorry I have to go. You know I'll miss you every second I'm gone." It wasn't a question-it was a statement of fact and you felt a small smile break a your sad visage.

"I'll miss you too," you said, your voice caught in your throat and coming out scratchy and pitchy. Rooster squeezed your hand and stood from the stool, quickly striding to you and wrapping his arms around you. You breathed in hie scent and felt your nervous system start to calm down.

"We'll have plenty of time for missing when we're apart. But for now," he leaned forward and gave you a kiss, his lips moving perfectly in tandem with yours. The kiss was over as soon as it started, your closed eyes not wanting to open and let the moment go.

"For now," he started again, hoisting you up over his shoulder, your ass in the air, "I need some football in my life!" You let out a loud laugh as he carried you out of the kitchen, past the now empty dining room table littered with pie crusts and empty plates and forks, and towards the television. He kicked the couch and disrupted Hangman's relaxed slumber abruptly. Hangman sat up, letting out a "goddamn what the fuck" as he swung his legs to the floor.

In one swift movement, Rooster had dropped you unceremoniously to the couch with a loud thud. You let out a surprised "eep!" halfway landing on Hangman who let out another "what the fuck?!" as Rooster was now almost all the way out the front door. "Sorry! Football!" was all he said, vanishing and leaving you alone with Jake.

You turned to the groggy pilot next to you incredulous. Hangman rubbed his temples and then let out a laugh. He stretched and stood up from the couch, offering you a hand. You expected these manners from Jake, he had stopped with most of the whole "cocky-asshole-pilot" shtick around this crew. What you didn't expect was what he said.

"He'll come back safe. You have my word."

You barely felt the hand on your shoulder as you forced yourself to nod, your feet carrying you towards the door to where everyone had evacuated. You stepped aside, letting Jake head out with a wink and a nod to you. Rooster saw the whole thing play out in the doorway.

"Hey Seresin, you leave my lady alone, ya hear?" Oooh's and "oh shits" bubbled up from the pilots on both teams. Hangman rolled his eyes, grabbing the football mid-air from Coyote.

"Then don't drop her onto my lap, Bradshaw," he challenged, as his offensive line fell into their positions facing Rooster and snickering and chatting to each other. Rooster rolled his eyes and tossed a wink at you, a smirk quickly following. You laughed and now it was your turn to roll your eyes and let out a sigh, taking a seat next to Halo on one of the Adirondak chairs on the porch.

You knew the next mission was soon. You knew you'd be a wreck the whole time he was gone. You looked around at all the other pilots as the ball was snapped and everyone started to move. You had written them all on their last assignments. You had sent care packages to the few that had gone on that Top Secret mission a year ago. Your eyes kept traveling through the group until they held on Rooster.

The man you had fallen in love with one fateful night at a bar in San Diego. He threw his head back in a triumphant laugh and it was like you were watching everything in slow motion. You committed every detail of his face, from the freckles now scattering all over his nose, to the scar on his cheek, to the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed to memory.

You took in an unintentional shaky breath and Halo turned to give you a sympathetic look. You forced a smile when you felt her eyes on you and then turned back to Rooster, realizing that his team was cheering, Payback hoisting him up onto his and Coyote's shoulders. Hangman groaned and you laughed as Rooster pointed to you from his new throne as the rest of his team swarmed around him.

"That one's for you, baby!" He yelled and you laughed, catching the football that he underhand tossed to you on the porch. His smile beamed and you held the football with pride, laughing as the celebration turned into a dogpile/wrestling match with both teams. Just for a moment, up here, away from everything they did, everything they would do, everything was perfect.

-----

A/N: In that kinda fall-ish mood today (temps finally dropped and stayed in the high 60's!), enjoy the fluff.

Rooster Taglist (ask to be added!): @alana4610 @athenxt @notanordinaryprincess95 @je-suis-prest-rachel @fogle97 @walkonthewiidside @jostyriggslover96 @lunamoonbby @rosiahills22 @newlibrary @n3ssm0nique @indynerdgirl @and-claudia @sadpetalsstuff @munsonseddieee @ancabifi @nickie-amore @yourphinphan81 @multifandom-fangirl4 @kajjaka @maverooster @justalonelyslytherin @kstevie567 @caprisunzz @nik2blog @blindedbyyourgrace17 @saraandthejets1 @bradshawwannebe @greatbigshiningstar @eminems-skittles @mavericksicybabe @julia-2904 @igotmajordaddyissues @ebonyhogan24 @saramaple @timbradfordsboot @nobody7102 @icemansgirl1999 @caitlyn221b @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @craftytrashprincess @herladyshipxx @pedritobalmando @double-j @arianna-bradshaw @johnnycobra84 @hope-love-equality2 @katieshook02

[erodasfishtacos]

Is this seat empty? " Yes and this one will be too if you sit down" , "Don't be like that my love."

For MLB!Harry first stupid fight in a relationship 😂

Okay this turned into something entirely different then the prompt. Sorry anon 😂

—

Peace & Quiet (Please)

If you enjoy please like, reblog, comment, or come talk to me!

I write for free so if you enjoy my work please consider donating to my kofi page.

-

“Where d’you put m’protein mix?” Harry asks, padding into the kitchen and opening every single fucking cabinet.

“It’s in the same place it’s been for the past five years,” YN bites out with a slight irritation, mixing the pancake batter a little rougher.

She’s been up since three in the morning and Harry sauntered in around six-thirty after coming home late from a baseball game last night.

All the babies still asleep.

“Ah - fuck,” Her husband huffs when he spills the powder all over the countertop and floor she had just swiffered ten minutes ago.

When he goes to open the other cabinet and grab for a shaker bottle - they all come tumbling out onto the floor in a loud clash.

“Could you be any louder? You going to wake up the kids!” YN scolds harshly, pointing to the closet, “Go get the swiffer.”

He obliges - surprised by her attitude, grabbing it and slapping it (by accident) on the ground like a fucking baseball bat, the head of the mop snapping off and breaking.

“S’broken,” Harry states the obvious, shrugging and going about peeling a banana before leaving the peel near the sink.

YN turns to face him, voice irritated, “I’m about to break you, just like you broke the swiffer.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” He asks cheekily but her glare tells him there is no amusement to be had this morning.

“I just spent all morning cleaning and you’ve made this place a disaster already!” His wife bites before flipping one of the pancakes.

Harry dejectedly cleans up his protein mix mess, neatly places the shake bottles into the right place, throws away the peel, and closes all the cabinets.

“M’sorry,” He murmurs, coming up behind her and kisses the nape of her neck, “Y’seem a bit cranky this mornin’.”

And man. He should have not said that.

“Do you have a baby who needs to fucking feed from your body every hour even during the night? I don’t think so,” She mutters, shaking him off of her.

“Hey, mama. M’bein’ an ass, what can I do to help?” He changes gears, choosing to stand next to her since she didn’t seem to want to be touch.

“Breastfeed - let your nipples feel like their constantly on fire and about to fall off. Make all this post-partum bleeding stop. Let me sleep for a day straight. I don’t know,” YN begins to sniffles, plating a few mini pancakes.

He’s taken aback, eyebrows furrowing in concern, and he leans forward to flip off the stovetop, “Can I touch you?”

She nods, wiping her eyes, and allows him to haul her up into their marble countertop, “Mama, y’need to tell me when y’feeling overwhelmed? Please baby. I’ve asked you a million times to wake me up and I can bottle feed her.”

“No, she…I have to feed her. It helps bonding and it-“

Harry interrupts firmly, “She will be perfectly fine being fed by a bottle a few times a day. You’re putting too much stress on yourself.”

Her head falls on his shoulder and she mumbles, “I just feel so…gross, not attractive at all.”

He pulls her back, searching her face in confusion, “Baby, why would you ever say somethin’ like that?”

YN let’s out a quiet sob, “My nipples are chafed and sore, I’m constantly bleeding, my belly hasn’t deflated -“

Harry can’t help but lean in and connect their lips harshly, he’s pulling her loose shirt up and over her head.

“Harry, what-“

“Listen t’me,” Harry rasps seriously, his hands are tender and careful as they cup her swollen breasts - thumbing at her painful nubs.

“I’m literally obsessed w’your tits, baby. They’ll go back to normal after y’done feeding and even if they don’t - I love them just as fucking much. You fed our three healthy strong boys and now you’re makin’ sure our chunky little girl is eating good.”

Then he hands move to cup her belly, large hands splayed over the still softening, firm bump from where Briar had been housed for nine months.

“Y’gave me four, four fuckin’ babies from this belly. I’m fucking in love with your body. God, y’thighs, y’tummy, the stretchmarks - fuck, getting me hard just lookin’ at you.”

It was true, he was stiffening up in his shorts but neither of them acknowledged it - it was a love boner more than anything else.

He literally got hard from how much he loved her.

“I’m tired,” She sighs softly, letting Harry tug her shirt back on as the children would be waking up soon to eat breakfast.

“I know, mama,” Harry acknowledges softly, giving her another kiss before taking over the pancake station.

-

When all the boys are downstairs and chomping away on their food, Cash, who is just about four decides it’ll be funny to squirt the sticky syrup all over their expensive stool cushions and the floor.

When YN turns from the sink to see the mess, she admits she snaps a little bit, “Really Harry? You’re supposed to be watching them, not checking the sports news on your phone!”

Harry is about to defend himself but his wife is stomping over to where Cash has emptied the bottle and gives him a firm look, “Cash Edward Styles, get your bum upstairs, right now.”

Cash’s eyes widen, his mother rarely needed to use a harsh tone with them, “Mama, I’m so-“

“If you are not upstairs, by the bathtub this instant, you get no outside time today. Do you understand me?” YN tells him, giving Easton a warning look when he licks at the syrup on his finger.

“Yes mama,” Cash squeaks out sadly, abandoning his plate and walking up towards the bathroom upstairs to get clean.

Easton and Ezra are dead silent as they watch their brother leave - not wanting the same fate as him so they sit proper.

“Sweetheart-“ Harry begins, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“No, I have my hands full taking care of four kids. I don’t need you acting like a fifth. Go bathe your son,” YN tells him coldly, an angry stare directed his way.

Harry clenches his jaw, biting his tongue as he stands up and pushes his chair in with force - making a loud noise before following after his second son.

A few minutes after they’re out of sight, Easton thought it’d be funny to wipe syrup down Ezra’s cheek which made Ezra cry and throw a pancake at his older brother - now soaking him in syrup.

YN starts to leak milk at the sound of Ezra’s cries.

“Easton Robin - get you butt upstairs this instant too. You know better - no outside time today,” She informs him as she uses a wet wipe to clean Ezra’s cheek.

“Mama,” Easton whines, fat tears starting roll down his cheeks as he stands up, loitering by the kitchen stool.

“Do not make me repeat myself,” YN warns, swiping a paper towel over the wet spot on her shirt from the leak.

-

Harry had just started washing up Cash who was still melancholy when his blubbering older one comes in - still tearful.

He sighs, looking at his syrupy son, “Wha’ happened?”

Easton looks hesitant, “I put syrup on Ezzie and mama said no outside time today.”

His father is tight-lipped, he can already predict that Easton’s actions upset Ezra, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s clean y’up too. Y’know better, Easton.”

-

Harry had just finished helping both boys dress when YN appears in the doorway with Ezra who has a binkie popped in his mouth.

She steps over and hands their son to Harry before muttering, “I’m going to feed Briar, keep the boys out of the room. I need some peace.”

YN disappears from the room before he can even reply to her.

-

Harry can admit he gets distracted when one of his coaches calls him up for a game change, doesn’t notice when Cash sneaks from the playroom.

It’s less than five minutes later when YN leads Cash gently by the hand back into the playroom, with Briar still latched and feeding.

When she sees Harry on his phone, she’s fucking livid with him.

“Really Harry?” His wife scoffs, guiding Cash to join Easton in where he’s playing with legos.

“I’ll call you back,” Harry replies to his coach before hanging up, “Sorry, it was Donny-“

“Good to know your job is more important than watching your kids,” She spits out before storming back out of the room.

Harry is up and following behind her, jaw clenched and irritated, “Just ‘cause you’re in a pissy mood doesn’t mean that y’say shit like that.”

She turns on her heel, eyes fiery, “You have no god damn consideration. You’ve been swamped this week because of your nike promotion and games. I’ve had the babies all by myself for four nights while you get to gallivant around!”

Harry goes to speak but she puts her free hand up.

“I ask for you to keep our house clean and to let me have one moment of peace with our daughter but you don’t even let me have that! You do not understand how hard it is to push a baby out of you and then have them rely on you to feed them twenty times a day!”

His anger fades when his wife starts sobbing - chest shuddering sobs, “I just had her four weeks ago. I-I haven’t had a break yet. You act like it’s so easy!”

He starts to walk towards her, “Sweetheart-“

YN shakes her head, a desperate plea in her tone, “Please just give me time with Briar.”

Harry swallows harshly and nods - feeling like shit as his wife walks back towards the stairs - all the while still feeding their daughter.

-

“Hello?”

“Mum, I-can you take the boys for the night?” Harry asks quietly, standing in the kitchen while the two older boys are still playing quietly.

Ezra’s passed out, on Harry’s hip with his little face smushed against the cap of his shoulder with parted lips.

“Dear, is everything okay?” She replies cautiously.

“No, I-I don’t know. YN is overwhelmed and I don’t think I’ve been supportive enough,” Harry feels himself begin to sniffle.

Anne doesn’t pry for information which Harry loves about her, she agrees to take them, and states she’ll be over within the hour.

Harry goes about packing their pajamas and other necessities in their little backpacks as the squeal excitedly about going to Nana’s.

“Can we say bye to mama?” Easton asks anxiously as they clear out of their bedrooms.

“Let me go ask,” He murmurs, running a hand through his son’s curls.

When he cracks open the door, YN is sprawled out on her back, fast asleep with Briar also asleep in the bassinet next to the bed.

His heart aches because her shirt is off, and the remnants of her nipple cream which was a pinkish orange color wasn’t fully rubbed in on her bruised breasts.

Harry guides them downstairs, promising that their mama will call them later.

-

After the boys leave, Harry doesn’t know what to do so he cleans whatever he finds that is dirty or messy so she won’t have to.

He does all the laundry in the house, cleans up every single toy, and when Briar starts to whimper - he sneaks in to snatch her up so she doesn’t wake YN.

Then he takes her out to the shops with him to grab groceries, her favorite snacks, and maybe he does stop by a jewelry store and buy her something nice.

(casually a pair of 20k earrings)

YN fell asleep around eighty-thirty in the morning and doesn’t wake up until about nine at night, Harry had put Briar in her nursery about an hour ago.

When she does awake, Harry is sitting in the living room - watching a stupid action movie to pass time and dwell on everything.

She comes in quietly, stands in front of her husband who looks up at her with anxious eyes - she looks brighter now that she’s had adequate sleep.

“Will you hold me?” She rasps quietly, just in one of Harry’s shirts and soft pair of sleep shorts.

“Never haven t’ask, mama,” He murmurs, guiding her until she’s straddling his lap and burying her face into the crook of his neck.

His hands sneak beneath her shirt to massage the sleep-warm skin as he kisses her shoulder - over and over again.

“I’m so sorry,” YN whispers into his skin, voice croaky as she tries to not get upset.

He pulls her back to study her face, “Do not apologize, y’allowed to get mad at me and feel frustrated. You’re emotions are valid. There’s a lot going on and I could be doing more to help.”

YN wipes a tear that trickles down as she laughs in disbelief, “No, you can’t do anymore to help.”

“Wha-? I can, I promis-“

She interrupts his with a kiss before telling him sincerely, “You can’t do anymore help because you’re already doing the most amazing job. As a husband and dad. I was just tired and stressed - it’s not an excuse.”

It warms his heart, he fucking loves her so much it does make sense, has to button their lips together one more time.

“You have a really hard job too, on top of being a husband and dad. You give us all this, support us and take care of us.”

“Are y’kidding me? Y’the one who keeps this family together. Y’the fuckin’ love of my life, you know that? I love you so much, so so much,” He emphasizes, rubbing a thumb across her bottom lip.

The kiss one more time - the anger was subsided and they were okay once again.

Harry laughs and agree when YN murmurs, “S’time for bed again, m’tired.”

“Okay mama, anythin’ for you,” He responds before peppering her in kisses to make her giggle lightly.

[lucyandthepen]

a lesson on style - iii . [ ljn | njm ]

pt. i, pt. ii, pt. iii, pt. iv.,  pt. v, pt. vi

you’ve always been content with being associated with one word and one word only: average. average in looks, academics and social skills, you’re just looking to graduate high school without causing disasters you’ll have to live with until you kick the bucket. when you’re paired with school king lee jeno for the semester-long physics thesis, you can’t help but think the entire situation has pretty much set itself up for failure. that is, until you strike a deal with your partner. alternatively: an au tale involving lessons in popularity, eleven consecutive B­ minuses, a secretly sensitive, chess­-loving jock, and an amateur sex tape.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader, jaemin x fem!reader verse: high school au { jocks!nomin ft. a super cute whiny ap physics genius renjun } rating: M for sexual themes chapter warnings: none word count: 5.6k

author’s note: because like two people have said they want chapter 3 i, a textbook people pleaser, have arrived :^) 

                                                         *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Your Facebook boasts a picture of you in Jeju-do last summer.

You actually haven’t changed it since then because you don’t think that a profile picture is worth anything, but apparently, Lee freaking Jeno really likes that shot of you standing by the shoreline in your I ❤️ JEJU t-shirt and your knee-length cut-offs, a disturbingly huge orange starfish in hand. He likes it so much that he’s not only looked at it, but he’s also asked his friend to tell you he has, which is just about the most flattering thing you could do with regard to someone’s profile picture without actually being the one to personally do anything about it.

In conclusion, the butterflies in your stomach aren’t just going crazy; they’re screaming their tiny lungs out.

Your first reaction is to call Renjun and tell him, but he’s only on his way home now, and, somehow, you don’t really know if he’s in the right mood to talk to you about Jeno (or, rather, to listen to you talk about him). You’ve also been staring way too long at your laptop screen without doing anything substantial, so much so that Jaemin is back on his keyboard, according to the three little dots that appear in the chat box again.

Na Jaemin: did I scare u off

You: no no omg I was just

You: taking notes

Na Jaemin: for wht?

Na Jaemin: by teh wa y is Zhong Cjelne at your house?

Na Jaemin: *Cehnel

Na Jaemin: *CHENLE

You: yes! why

You: do you need me to call him

Na Jaemin: no but can you pas s a messge

Na Jaemin: can u tell him isf]

Na Jaemin: jesus fuck ing crihtst

You: I don’t know how to pronounce that

Na Jaemin: sorry can u just tell him he needs to get his LT back from me

Na Jaemin: he didn’t make it to class 2day

You: sure!

You: by the way, can you tell Jeno thank you?

Na Jaemin: oh yeah sure

Na Jaemin: he says for what

You: for the profile pic thing

Na Jaemin: oh

Na Jaemin: ur welcome lol

Na Jaemin: for the record I think that’s a pretty cool starfish

You: thanks!

Na Jaemin: oh brbb dinner i see the baemin guy

Na Jaemin: nvm I think that must be your pizza then

Na Jaemin: enjoy!

It’s strange that you have to be constantly reminded that Jaemin only needs to look out his bedroom window to see what’s happening in front of your house, but you don’t really take the time to dwell on this when the doorbell rings and you have to get off your ass to answer it. Once you’ve paid for the food and shut the door, you call out to the rest of your family; you can hear doors opening and closing mixing in with the low thrum of groggy voices. Sooyeon and Chenle, however, have hardly left the kitchen aside from very briefly taking a walk down the block in the middle of your supposed brainstorming session with Renjun, and you find them in almost the exact same way you had left them, only their faces are morphed into these strange expressions that unnervingly remind you of how you sometimes look when you catch your reflection in the mirror as you daydream about Jeno. Except, well, they’re sharing a mutual look, in comparison to you just… fantasizing. You feel kind of intrusive, and Chenle’s smile suddenly shifting from adoring to abashed may have really set the awkward mood, but your sister remains supremely unperturbed, a quality you kind of wish you always had. She looks up at you with the same bright look she’s just shared with Chenle, which isn’t exactly the most comforting thing at present.

Or, maybe, she might just be beaming brightly at the pizza in your hands.

“Oooh, smells great,” she pipes up in a manner that suggests you’ve just slid it out of the oven instead of just dishing out 30,000 won for it. “I’ll get the paper plates.” You share another moment of silence with Chenle, who’s resorted to scratching the back of his neck weakly to alleviate any internal tension he might be feeling, until you remember you’re supposed to play virtual mailman.

“Oh, um — Jaemin says, er —“ you’re momentarily derailed when his wide eyes fix on you. “Jaemin says you need to get your long test back from him.”

“Na Jaemin?” He sounds slightly incredulous. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“Yeah. He lives next door.”

“I know that. But I didn’t know you were friends.”

“Oh — we’re not.” It’s your turn to scratch the back of your neck. “He just messaged me, I guess to tell you that.”

He hums in thought. “Okay. Thanks for passing the message. I’ll pass by his house before I leave.”

“Okay.” You know it’s not really any of your business, and you’re not dying to know the answer either, but you press on anyway. “Why does he have your LT though? I didn’t know you two were close either.”

“We’re not that close.” Something like a smile passes his face, so briefly that you may have imagined it. His eyes start traveling around again, watching your sister set out plates for everyone as the rest of your family trickles in. “He’s the TA for the class.”

“He’s the huh?”

“The TA — teaching assistant? For the AP Physics class. Didn’t Renjun tell you that? I’m sure he would have mentioned it. He’s been grading our tests for half the year.”

“No, he didn’t,” you can’t take out the surprise in your voice despite the intense desire to. “I didn’t know he was… like…”

“The TA?”

“No, I just… I didn’t know he was smart smart.”

Chenle has laughed in front of you, but you don’t think he’s ever laughed because of you. This feels like a momentous occasion only marred by the fact that your youngest brother is lifting his shirt up gracelessly to rub at his stomach as he yawns. Even still, you feel a little foolish. Not that you’ve ever asked Renjun about it — you’ve sort of felt like AP physics was a world not easily understandable and, thus, a world that you had no interest in actually attempting to understand. More than that, you’ve somehow felt like people on varsity don’t really care that much about academics; you’d always just chalked up not seeing Jaemin in your class as him being in another section of regular physics.

“Jaemin’s popular with the teachers. He’s been in every AP class I’ve been in. His older brother was kind of the same, so he probably has a lot to live up to. So far, he doesn’t seem to be letting anyone down.”

“Yeah…” you have no clue what to contribute to this conversation; you feel like you’re processing so many things the wrong way and in much too slow a pace, so you decide to just let go any desire you have to respond to Chenle and just sit down across him, still a little dumbstruck.

Dinner is uneventful because everyone apart from your sister and your mother look tired, and you feel like the last twelve hours have already taken their toll on your mental capabilities. They’re the only two people talking animatedly; Chenle doesn’t count because he doesn’t converse as much as he does make noises of affirmation when Sooyeon asks for it. You assume that you’re going to be able to go up and maybe actually think about your physics project (with intermittent fantasies about Jeno) in peace, and you almost do. Almost.

“By the way, _____________,” your mom’s mentioning your name brings you out of your stupor. “I have an early day tomorrow, so do you just want me to be the one to return that jacket you had me wash?”

“What?” You say, pretty stupidly.

“I can just pop on over next door and give the jacket back before I leave for work —“

“No,” you cut her off, alarm rising in your voice. “That’s fine; I’ll give it back myself.”

“Are you sure? You sometimes forget to —“

“Mom,” you beg, as your brothers and father, one by one, start falling back down to earth as well and blearily looking up from their pizzas to focus on you. “Please. Just let me handle it. I won’t forget.“

“Okay,” she shrugs, her tone enigmatically sing-song. “I’m just offering.”

“Wait, are you talking about Na Jaemin?” Sooyeon finally cottons on, which had been the uncomfortable start to a situation you were desperately trying to avoid. “He gave you his jacket?”

“He lent it to me.”

“Football players only give their jackets away to girls when they’re dating,” your sister's eyes are shining so terrifyingly, and your dad has actually straightened up his posture to look at you. Even your younger brothers look somehow interested in this development, probably because they can’t remember a time in their short lives where you’d actually had any dating news to share. “Are you dating Na Jaemin?”

For some reason, it’s Chenle’s face that makes you the most uncomfortable; he looks… amused, which isn’t bothersome, but it’s indicative of the questions he must be asking himself, like how could you have not known he was the TA to the AP Physics class when you were sucking face? You put down the crust of your pizza onto your paper plate, the bread having turned to cardboard in your mouth when this horrible conversation had launched.

“I’m not dating him. I’m not dating anyone. And if I did, it wouldn’t be him.”

“Why not? You don’t have to hide anything from us. Jaemin-sunbae is great. Did you actually know my cheerleading coach wanted him on the team because he’s so flexible?”

Jiho makes a gagging noise over her last few words that signals a bite of pizza had gone down the wrong pipe, but everyone ignores him.

“That… is totally not relevant. And a little weird for me to know. Anyway, he spilled coke on me this afternoon and just gave me the jacket to cover up the stain for the rest of the day. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh,” Sooyeon sounds disappointed, but it’s a mystery to you why she would. “That sucks. It would have been pretty cool if we could all go on like, double dates and stuff. And you could finally get dragged to a school football game without me having to do all the heavy lifting in trying to convince you.”

“Pass and super pass.” You fold your paper plate around your crust, standing up and tossing it into the garbage bag your sister had laid out for easy clean up. “I’m going up. I need to figure out the proposal for my term project.”

“I’ll lay out the jacket for you so you don’t forget it,” your mom brings up the same damn topic again, and you just choose to turn a deaf ear to it.

“I can give it to him,” your sister offers. “We practice on the same field.”

“Everyone, please,” you’re the only one standing up, which makes you feel even more like you’re giving a sermon. “Please just stay away from Na Jaemin’s jacket.”

“You don’t have to be possessive of it.”

“Will you shut up?” your sister desists when you emphasize the threatening undertone of your words, but she’s still smiling widely even when you leave the table, and she’s already poised to lean forward to talk to your mom, who looks equally as suspicious and nosy. Birds of a feather.

You make a beeline for the stairs and away from the dinnertime chatter, taking two steps at a time to your room, and your door swings open just in time for you to hear the message notification noise from your laptop, still open and running on 3% on your bed. After saving it from certain death, you lay down stomach-flat in front of it, surprised to see that a new set of messages have invaded your account.

Huang Renjun: home. See you tomorrow

Na Jaemin: also wait is it just me or was Chenle your date to junior prom last year

Na Jaemin: I swear I remember him asking me if I had seen you go into an empty classroom with someone else 

You ignore both open windows, minimizing Renjun’s and closing Jaemin’s entirely, all because a new window, blinking between white and blue, has caught your eye. 

Lee Jeno: hey 

Heat climbs up to your cheeks at an alarming rate, and you can see from the weak reflection of your face on your laptop screen that you’re grinning. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for an intense minute of you thinking about what to reply, and you type out various possible responses ranging from “how’s it going?” to just a single wink emoji, but your brain at least takes control at the last second and lets you type back a similarly casual “hey.” 

Less than two minutes pass, and the three telltale dots appear right next to the minimized version of Jeno’s profile picture. Your breathing catches at the sight of this, and you devour the words that appear in the consequent chat bubble. 

Lee Jeno: how’s the project coming along? 

You: it’s going great!

You: I have some ideas if you feel like discussing them a little 

Lee Jeno: I wouldn’t really know what to discuss

Lee Jeno: anything on that list of ideas that’s going to give me a sure pass in this subject lol 

Okay, so you don’t have ideas. That’s what Renjun was supposed to be here for, but you hadn’t gotten anything done. So far, you had that water thing with the weird name and zilch. 

You: um I guess it kind of depends on what you’re interested in! 

Lee Jeno: physics isn’t my strong suit so I’m letting u take the lead here 

You: okay, how about the Mpemba effect? 

Lee Jeno: which is? 

You:  something to do with water?

Lee Jeno: oh, cool, like swimming? 

You’re shot of ideas already. You don’t even know what it is, and you’re pitching it to meet Jeno’s pretty high expectations, which is just depressing. Quickly reopening your chat with Renjun, you send a panicked message. 

You: RenjNun HELP 

Huang Renjun:  ????

You: Jeno’s asking me for the topic for the term paper and I’ve got NOTHING

You: can you please re-explain the Mpemba effect and how I’m supposed to turn that into a good term project

Read 8:48 PM 

You see the little green dot disappear from beside Renjun’s name, and your heart plummets. Maybe he’s just having dinner really suddenly. Like, life or death, have-to-eat kind of situation. It would make sense, and it’s a lot less painful as an alternative to what could actually be the reason behind him suddenly ghosting on you. 

You: you know what, how about we just talk about the topic tomorrow? You: maybe we can decide then if we really want to do it 

Lee Jeno: oh, okay, sounds good to me

Lee Jeno: lunch tom? 

You: works for me! 

Lee Jeno: cool! see you : ) 

You only realize you’ve been holding your breath for the last part of the conversation when you exhale fiercely, fanning yourself with an open palm. So you’re having lunch with Jeno tomorrow. That’s… cool. More than cool. It’s a big fucking deal. An even stupider grin crosses your face as you roll onto your back, and you pay very little mind to the new message that pops up onto your screen. 

Na Jaemin: if you need any help with your project, don’t hesitate to ask! ^^ 

                                                *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You’d spent the entirety of the morning really looking forward to your lunch date with Jeno (date being a term you’d added yourself, but it seemed like a reasonable addendum), and you’d been trying to figure out what to pitch to him, even doing a quick Google search of easy term projects right before homeroom. You’d had many expectations for the one glorious hour you’d be eating with him, but in your excitement to get to that point in your day, you’d left out a pretty important factor. 

In your defense, Renjun hadn’t replied all night, so of course you were bound to put him on the back burner, right? Still, it’s common knowledge — tradition, even — between the both of you to spend your lunch break together, and Renjun wasn’t really prepared to suddenly forego this custom today, considering he didn’t know about your more important plans (which, again, was his fault considering he hadn’t bothered to message back). This little snag is the reason why you find yourself sitting next to a sullen best friend who’s more interested in picking out the sesame seeds from atop his gimbap roll than talking to you. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you attempt to get him to see reason again. “It’s just one lunch. You don’t even have to listen! He’s not going to stop you from eating.”

“Not verbally, but his presence will nauseate me so much that I’ll end up without an appetite anyway.”

You have to give it to him — Renjun’s penchant for drama is completely unmatched. Your temper flares a little, but you try to swallow it down to avoid any more huge scenes in the cafeteria. “You’re being stupid.”

“I’m being stupid? Suddenly you can tell when I am but you can’t see it in all of Jeno’s F’s?” 

“Will you stop taking jabs at him? We’re talking about your behavior, not his grades.”

“We barely have any classes together. Lunch time is the only time we really have these days,” Renjun’s voice has a twinge of bitterness to it that’s way too sharp to the ears. “Is it that hard to just meet him when I’m not around?” 

“For the record, I’m not forcing you to stay.”

“Oh, so you’d prefer it if I leave, then,” there’s no denying the sting in his tone. “Okay, that’s how it is.”

“Renjun, come on — of course I don’t want you to leave. Having lunch with you is always great; it’s just one other person for one day.”

“Any other person on multiple other days is fine! But not this person, ________________!”

“I can’t believe how many times I have to keep asking you why you hate him so much!”

“And I can’t believe how many times I have to tell you it’s the fact that you like him that I can’t stand!” 

“Ahem.”

A new voice joins the fray; both of you look up to see Jeno towering over your table, tray in hand and looking fairly confused. His eyes skip between your abashed expression and Renjun’s livid one, but he has the good sense to set his tray down carefully onto the table, choosing to keep his vision fixed on you. 

“We… were going to talk, right?” 

“Yes! Of course — sorry. We were just… chatting.” 

You pointedly ignore the disbelief in Renjun’s face, more relieved at the fact that Jeno at least seems to buy your stupid lie, taking a seat in front of you. He unwraps his sandwich, taking an endearingly large bite and chewing as he looks up at you with that extremely lazy, extremely sexy expression he often gets during class lectures. 

“So,” he starts. 

“So I have this list of possible topics, if you want to take a look at them really quickly before deciding—” You pull out a piece of paper to the tune of Renjun’s scoff. “We can totally go for something else if none of them match your goals.”

“Oh cool,” his mouth is still half-full of ham and white bread as he reaches over and takes the paper, skimming over it with an expression that could, to the untrained eye, be considered somewhat glassy. To you, it simply says casual interest. Very trendy. 

“So what is your goal, Jeno?” Renjun pipes up after ten minutes of uncomfortable silence and Jeno’s attempt to read through your atrocious handwriting, using one of his chopsticks to spear a piece of gimbap viciously. “Graduate somehow without getting anyone pregnant?”

Two pairs of eyes move to Renjun’s mouth, which is opening up a horrendously and unnecessarily huge way to accommodate his food. Your face is much more appalled than Jeno’s is, though, since there’s still a tinge of thoughtful confusion swimming around in his eyes.

“I mean, I haven’t really thought about it that much, but I guess that’s as good a goal as any.”

“I bet it is,” Renjun’s mouth curls up into a horrible smirk. “For you.”

“You know what I was thinking,” you cut him off, and Jeno, thankfully, turns his attention to you, deprived of the time to process Renjun’s comment. “We could try doing that one about the most efficient material to use as sunshade for automobiles since… since you… like cars. Don’t you?” 

“Cars are cool,” he hums nonchalantly. “We could do that.”

“Cars are cool,” Renjun mocks under his breath. You throw him another warning look, which he responds to by devouring another piece of gimbap. 

“If that doesn’t really float your boat, then there’s this one —“ you hesitate in reaching for the paper, but you’re already halfway through the process of leaning in, so you end up with your torso in an awkward horizontal position on the surface of the table. Jeno turns the paper slightly towards you, and you point to an item on the list. “This thing about the relational frequency between notes in harmony sounds pretty interesting too. I think.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he turns the paper back to himself, squinting at the words. “That sounds pretty cool too, actually.”

“How cool?” Renjun butts in again, ignoring you when you punch his thigh under the table, save for a wince that goes as suddenly as it comes. “Like, on a scale of one to ten, ten being as cool as skipping class for the new Fast and Furious movie, and one being as cool as taking advantage of naive girls to do work for you while you half-ass your way through the rest of the year.” 

The silence that ensues is common in all but nature. Renjun’s is a smug silence, while Jeno’s is one of total astonishment. Yours, on the other hand, stems from the rage bubbling in your chest, and it’s taking all of your energy not to blow a fuse. Angry you isn’t cute, and Jeno should never have to see you in a negative light. 

“Actually,” Jeno starts slowly, clearing his throat when his first word comes out a little raspy. “I… just remembered Jaemin and I were supposed to meet at the field at half past noon, so… I gotta go.” 

This is the closest you’ve felt like dying this year, which is saying something, because just yesterday you had had the contents of a coke can spill down your back. You barely manage an “okay” before Jeno gets up, taking his tray with him and walking towards the return corner in long strides. Briefly, you think you should apologize to him, but this thought is derailed by Renjun burping unceremoniously and patting his stomach in satisfaction. 

“Our cafeteria makes the best gimbap. Ever. I said it from day one, and I’ll say it until the day I die.” 

“Well,” you snap your head back towards him, lower lip quivering. “I hope that day comes soon.” 

“Woah,” he lifts his palms up defensively. “I literally asked him, like, two harmless questions. Does that really call for murderous intent?” 

“You insulted him! Your stupid questions were totally uncalled for, and you could have just kept your mouth shut, but you couldn’t even sit fifteen minutes with him and just let us talk about our project?” 

“Oh, right, your project, in the plural,” he rolls his eyes. “The one he’s contributing so much to, right?” 

“We’re bouncing ideas! I’m sorry we can’t be as intelligent as you in your high and mighty advanced placement classes, but we’re doing our best!” 

“Wait – we are doing our best? When are you going to stop talking for him?” His voice is rising now too, and a couple of freshmen sitting at the next table glance back at the both of you in mild interest. “He can’t even defend himself! He knows he’s just taking advantage of you, so why are you still defending him?” 

“Oh, right, of course!” You feign smacking your forehead, except the intensity of your movement actually does cause your palm to make contact, leaving what would be a slightly pink mark just below your hairline. “I forgot! I’m a naive girl that doesn’t know what she’s doing and is just so stupid that she doesn’t even know she’s letting some guy walk on her!” 

“You are letting him walk on you! You’re already busting ass on something he doesn’t even care about!” 

“I know what I’m doing!” You half-yell, slamming down your chopsticks with finality. “You think I don’t know I’m acting like a total fool? You keep making fun of me, telling me I’m stupid for liking him because he’ll never like me back. I get it, okay? I know what you think of him, and I know what you think of me, too.” 

“_____________, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying you could do —“ 

“Better — yeah, I know! You keep saying that, but all I’m hearing is that you can’t just let me like him, you can’t just let me be happy, you can’t just support me even when this crush isn’t doing anything to you.” Your chair makes an awful scraping noise as you push it back, picking up your tray and ignoring Renjun’s shell-shocked face. “I know I’m acting like a total idiot around him, but I like him. And I know he’s never going to like me back, but I’m happy just liking him like this, and sometimes when you like someone, you’ll do stupid things for them. It’s just a harmless crush. You don’t have to be such a dick about it.” 

He opens his mouth to say something — a retort, or maybe an apology. You don’t feel like hearing either of those things, though, so you spin on your heel before he can utter anything, heading for the return corner first and slamming your tray down on the cart before storming towards the cafeteria door. It swings open just when you’re about to push (probably kick) it open, and you jump back, glaring a little blindly at the person coming through. 

“Woah,” Jaemin keeps the door open, stepping aside so you can pass. “Hey, _________________. I thought you and Jeno were supposed to — are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you huff, your voice indicating the total opposite. “Just reconsidering my long-standing relationships.” 

“… Meaning?” 

“Meaning I have a best friend position open right now if you know anyone willing to apply.” 

“Oh,” he looks a little befuddled; his fingers are playing against the bar on the door. “I’ll… keep that in mind, then. Did you and Renjun—?” 

“Who?” 

Jaemin’s mouth is hanging open, possibly at a loss for words at your vicious tone. You breathe in, the inhale shaky as it enters your lungs, and your fingers tremble as you wave the topic of Renjun away. “Sorry. I have to go. Jeno’s probably out on the field looking for you, or whatever.” 

“Oh — thanks,” he still looks flummoxed, but he doesn’t press, and he allows you to walk off in your cloud of anger and embarrassment in silence, his jaw still slightly slack.

                                                *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You spend the rest of lunch break and your free period crying in the library. You’re not even sure why you’re crying at all; all these horrible emotions overlapped and settled in your chest, and the only logical course of relief seemed to be just to cry next to the non-fiction aisle. In between hiccups, you bring your phone out, drafting messages to Renjun first then Jeno, both in paragraphs, but deleting them after reading them over and finding redundancies and typographical errors, simply allowing the next wave of tears to come streaming down. In the end, you only manage to send one message. 

You: I’m sorry. For snapping at you. You didn’t deserve that. 

Na Jaemin: No apology needed ^^

Na Jaemin: Totally unrelated, of course, but I heard that chamomile tea is good for calming ^^

At the end of the day, you get kicked out of the library for sobbing a little too loudly in the last half hour of your free period, and you just wander aimlessly through the second floor before sluggishly heading down for class. As you approach the classroom, however, the numbness that had replaced your frustration had been pushed aside by a grown dread; knowing that you have to see Jeno, that you have to sit next to him, and that you have to apologize for Renjun’s stupid behavior when you can’t even string two really nice sentences around him is stressing you out, and you walk into the room with your teeth gnawing at the skin around your nail. 

Jeno is already there, a sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyebrows knit together as he stares down at a piece of paper on the table. You shuffle up to him, trying to sniffle very quietly to avoid startling him, and he looks up at all the noise you make, his expression morphing into something that looks… apologetic? 

“Hello,” your voice sounds disgusting, like you had spent the better part of your day stuffing tissues up your nose — which, come to think of it, you kind of had. 

“Hey,” his response is careful, and it doesn’t invite any more immediate discussion, so you sit down, and he turns his attention back to the paper. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that it’s the list of topics you’d written down. His long fingers tap between a couple of lines idly. 

You don’t know why, but this somehow is… comforting. Couple that with the fact that he now keeps stealing glances at you, like he’s trying to figure out how to open another conversation at the right time. 

“Um…” he lifts his head up at the sound of your voice. “Jeno, I just —“ 

“I’m sorry,” he cuts you off suddenly, and his voice bursts like he’s been holding it in for the longest time. You’re perplexed, to say the least; was he trying to fill in the blanks for you, or something? This theory is just debunked when he plows on. “I’m sorry, _________________. I didn’t really —“ 

“Wait,” you had never imagined you would find yourself stopping him from talking, considering how much you liked listening to him talk, but you feel like the need to clarify the situation is more pressing at the moment. “Wait, why are you apologizing? I was supposed to apologize.”

“What for?” He looks genuinely shocked, and your hands make random gestures to the abstract past. 

“For — for what happened! During lunch!” 

“That’s what I was going to apologize for. That was just… it was terrible. I’m sorry.” 

“I know it was, but that’s why I was apologizing,” you feel like you’re missing something totally fundamental considering that Jeno’s face is just growing more confused by the second.

“You were the one that had to sit through that mess.” 

“Me? No, I’m — it’s not about me,” his brows lift in disbelief. “I mean… your friend said some pretty wild stuff, but —“ 

“Yeah, so I’m — sorry, are we even talking about the same thing–-?” 

“I’m saying sorry because —“ he inhales, a hand coming up to knead at his temple briefly. Oh, good. He’s having a similarly hard time understanding this, too. “Because you didn’t have to go through that. That was humiliating.” 

“For you, yeah, I’m sure —“ 

“But also,” Jeno raises a hand, silencing you. “Because your friend — despite all the shitty things he said, he was right.“ 

“What… do you mean?” 

His hand touches his lips, fingers skating across his lower one as if it’s trying to will the right words to come out faster. “I… I mean, I told you. I’m not good at this physics stuff. And I just don’t have the brain power to get this done. So I really was kind of hoping you’d… you know. Do it. With as little help from me as possible preferably. I’m not proud of this,” he adds quickly. “I’m just really used to skating by. And I kind of knew you would let me, anyway. And I’m sorry for thinking of you that way. I deserved that call out.” 

He looks so terribly hurt that you can’t imagine what other emotion you’re supposed to feel apart from sympathy. “It’s okay, Jeno.” 

“That’s the thing; it’s really not. I’m not supposed to be taking advantage of other people like this. Especially not someone like you.” 

Someone like you? You’re quickly going through all the possibilities of what that implies, so much so that you miss the moment in which Jeno leans a little closer to you. You come back down to earth to see him a lot more clearly than you had a second or two ago. 

“Can I make it up to you?” 

“Can you h-hu-h—“ you blubber, collecting yourself at the last second. “Make it up to me?” 

“I’m never going to be of any real help in this project, so it’d be unrealistic if I told you I’d pull equal weight. But I’ll do what I can, if and when you need me to,” he slips the paper of topics back to you. Vaguely, you notice he’s circled a topic in blue pen. 

“That’s… I’m fine with that.” 

“In exchange for you taking the reins on this one,” he taps the paper. “I’ll make sure you graduate as the coolest girl on campus. Deal?”

[likeastarstar]

8:33 PM - Yoongi

(A/N: for the anon requesting exes to lovers with Yoongi! Hope this satisfied your angsty dreams, feedback is appreciated!)

You didn't believe in happy endings, but you used to.

You used to think that fairytales were real and soulmates exist and the world was inherently good. You were one of those annoying happy people who smiled at strangers and genuinely enjoyed smalltalk. That's what got you in this position in the first place though, wasn't it?

That annoying little habit of talking to strangers is what had you striking up conversation with a boy sitting alone at a bar one night. If you could go back, you'd stop yourself. If you could go back, you never would've fallen in love with Min Yoongi to begin with, because there was no way you'd ever fall out of love with him.

"Are you okay? It doesn't sound like you're breathing- are you breathing?"

You weren't.

You exhaled, forcing yourself to relax.

"When you said you needed someone to take to a dinner party, why didn't you tell me he would be here?" You seethed, grabbing onto Taehyung's arm.

He winced, loud falling open in a silent cry of pain. You felt anxiety and adrenaline mix in your bloodstream, caught between fight or flight. You wanted to hide away but couldn't get yourself to move out of sight, wanting to study your ex-boyfriend without you. Yoongi always hated parties like this- you were surprised he was even here. It was even stranger that you couldn't just go up to him like you used to.

Yoongi was hovering by the bar setup, casually reading labels on the bottles, probably in some attempt to distract himself from the chaos around him. He looked good- his hair was longer but every other part of him looked...the same. Like you never even happened. It was strange, you almost wanted him to be a disaster. You wanted him to be a wreck without you, crying and sobbing and throwing a fit. It had been months since the two of you broke up, obviously he moved on- but he didn't even look vaguely affected at all.

He looked happy.

You could almost picture yourself prancing up to him, hooking your arm around him and pulling him into you. You tilted your head, imagining that slow smile he used to give you when you popped into view, the way he used to kiss you slowly and mumble how much he missed you when it had only been a few minutes.

"I didn't know, I'm sorry. Do you want to leave?" Taehyung asked, "He usually never comes to these types of things- I mean well, he did when he was with you but that was different."

You narrowed your eyes, tearing your eyes away from Yoongi towards Tae, "No. This is fine."

Yoongi and you had dated for a little over a year when things fell apart. You couldn't even remember the last conversation the two of you had- when the last time he kissed you was. It must've been casual, quick. Like you thought it would happen a million times again. You didn't think the two of you would break up when it happened.

Taehyung took your arm in his and guided you away gently, treating you like you were a wounded animal. It was understandable- you didn't really ever talk about your breakup. It hurt to talk about, it hurt even just to think about. Taehyung got your mind off of things, floating around the room and keeping your wine glass full. By the time the two of you sat down to eat, you were tipsy and your mind had flown far away from your ex.

"I'm about to eat everything on this table right now- including the flowers," You joked to Taehyung, grinning at nod of agreement.

You were distracted momentarily by the plates of food set up family style covering the length of the table, the room filled with chatter and the sound of clinking dishes. You spooned vegetables onto your plate and pushed some onto Taehyung's, ignoring his grumbles against it.

"You need your vitamins," You quipped, about to nag more when someone said your name. You froze, recognizing the voice and the intonation behind it. You turned, Yoongi's shocked face standing across the table, one hand pulling out his chair. How did this happen? You looked down at the nametag placed where he was about to sit, convinced that this had to be a mistake. There was no way out of everyone at this party, Yoongi was the one who was sitting in front of you.

"Y-Yoongi," You breathed out, his name sounding strange on your tongue. You hadn't let yourself say it in so long that you weren't sure it belonged to you the same way it used to.

How did you go from being his best friend to barely being able to say his name?

"I can sit somewhere else," He said quickly, looking down the table.

"Everyone's already sat down, it's fine- right?" Taehyung cut in, gesturing for Yoongi to sit down.

You wanted to say no- or yes, you weren't really sure. Your brain was too fried at the moment, unable to do anything but stare with wide eyes at Yoongi. He was wearing a shirt you had bought for him, a nice silky white one that looked really good with his skin tone. You hadn't noticed it before since he had on a black suit jacket over it but you noticed it now- why did he still have it?

"Is this okay?" Yoongi asked you directly, raising his eyebrows slightly. 

No- none of this was okay. 

"It's fine," You heard yourself mumble, ducking your head quickly. 

The two of you were silent for the entire dinner, conversations happening around you but never involving either one. You suddenly lost your appetite, shifting food around on your plate anxiously. Your gaze flitted around the room, trying not to look at Yoongi but it didn't matter- when he was in the room, he had your eyes. The rare moments when Yoongi did pass comment on something, you listened attentively, completely hypnotized. You clung to the sound of his voice and the way his eyes zipped between whoever he was talking to and you. The way he looked at you was completely different now. Before, they were warm and calm. Now, he just seemed anxious- did you make him nervous?

"You're not eating," Yoongi noted. 

It took you a beat to realize he was speaking to you but he said it so quietly, there wasn't anyone else he could've been referring to. Taehyung watched the two of you cautiously, ready to speak for you if needed. You straightened your posture, wondering why you were being so timid- so weak. He was being polite and mature, why couldn't you do the same?

Deep down, you knew the answer. It was obvious, wasn't it? 

"I'm not all that hungry," You explained. Your hand searched for your wine glass and you finished it off quickly, pushing your chair back in a fluid motion, "Where's the restroom in this place?"

Taehyung gestured over towards a hallway at the back of the room and you hurried off, taking deep breaths to try and calm yourself. This was dramatic, why did you have to be so immature? Why did you have to be in love with him still? You stopped just shy of the bathroom, crouching into a small ball against the wall and hiding your head in your arms. You had to get a grip- in a couple of hours, you'd be able to go home and cry and then just forget about this entire thing. 

"Are you okay?" 

You gasped softly, yanking your head up sharply and looking at Yoongi, who was standing in the middle of the hallway with his hands in his pockets and a concerned look on his face. You nodded your head silently, eyes widening as he approached you with the caution one would have when walking towards a wounded wild animal. 

"You don't look okay," He noted. You didn't say anything, just stayed staring up at him and he sighed, leaning against the wall and looking down at you. "Can you just talk to me- please?"

"I'm fine. Besides, I don't know if we should be alone together," You admitted, staring at the ground. 

"I just wanted to hear your voice," He pleaded weakly, "I haven't hear you speak properly all night. I-I just wanted to hear your voice."

You narrowed your eyes, jerking your head back, "What am I supposed to say to you? I don't know how to talk to you. Am I supposed to act like I know nothing about you again, go back to treating you like a stranger? Or am I supposed to talk to you like I used to when you were my boyfriend? Which you haven't been in a long time- you're not my friend, you're not a stranger, you're not my boyfriend."

"How do you think I feel?" He grumbled, sliding down into a seated position next to you.

He was close enough for your shoulders to touch and you couldn't help yourself, gravitating towards him naturally and laying your head on his shoulder. He sighed and you felt his body relax underneath yours, melting around your form. You missed the way he smelled- wishing you could ask him to stay like this forever. 

"You should eat something, you look like you lost weight- I mean, you look good. You look amazing, I'm just saying," he stammered. 

"You're saying I look too skinny?" You joked dryly, glaring at him sarcastically. 

"No- No, you're gorgeous. You know how pretty you are. I didn't mean that, I just worry about you." He blushed.

You lifted your head off of his shoulder and looked at him with more courage than you had had the entire night.

You were trying really hard to keep yourself under control. All you wanted to do was cry and breakdown ask him a million questions. How did he do it? How did he get up in the morning and not think of you? How were you supposed to be okay with not talking to him every day? Did he not remember all the inside jokes the two of you had- the million tiny things that had connected the two of you? Sure, he had severed the relationship between the two of you- completely drawn a line that you couldn't cross again- but he left everything else behind.

You wanted to ask why when he broke up with you, why he didn't take all of the good parts with him? Why did he leave all the memories and the sweet moments and all the things that made you cry yourself to sleep at night?

"You worry about me, huh?" You asked with a wry smile.

"All the time. D-Do you ever think about us?" He asked softly.

Suddenly- he looked completely different. The confident, unaffected version he had been presenting all night had chipped away. Now, he looked nervous, on edge. You were in closer proximity to him now than you had been all night and without the chaos of a party or the distraction of alcohol- you noticed how tired he looked. His eyes were bleary and his hands were shaky. He looked thinner- he had always been thin but this was different.

You didn't doubt that he looked like you  at the moment, broken and unhappy.

"Sorry, I guess that question is out of line." He apologized earnestly, "I just-"

"All the time," You admitted, "Constantly. I- I'm sorry. For all of it, I'm sorry. If I could take it allback, I would."

"You didn't do anything you have to apologize for," He frowned, shaking his head.  "Unlike me."

You sighed, interlacing your fingers in his. His hand felt nice in your hand- it felt right.

"I think about you all the time. I miss you, all the time," Yoongi said quietly, "I've been so angry at myself since...since I ruined us. All I think about is how much I want to be yours again and then I remember that I lost that right when I broke up with you."

You cringed, hating hearing the reality that Min Yoongi did indeed dump you. But you had been conducting an autopsy on the remains of your relationship for months- ruminating over every argument and every mistake the two of you had made. You understood it, processed it. You weren't angry, just sad because you loved him.

You loved him so much it hurt.

"You didn't ruin us," You said softly, turning your head towards him.

Your face was so close to his you could feel his soft breathing, warm brown eyes staring into yours imploringly, as if he was trying to sus out whether you truly did forgive him or not. You couldn't think of anything to convince him you knew how he felt and that you felt the same way. He had always been better with his words than you were.

So instead, you kissed him. Put your lips on his and hoped he would get the message anyway. The kiss was soft and tame, nothing like the way you used to kiss him- but this was different. This was saying hello, opening the door to the possibility of him being yours again- at least that's what you wanted.

He melted against you, kissing you back politely at first but desperation took over, his hand that wasn't clasped in yours swiping against your cheek and into your hair in one fluid motion. He held you there like you'd slip away if he didn't, letting out a sound that almost sounded like a whimper if you didn't know any better.

You kissed him until you ran out of air, leaning your forehead against his to catch your breath.

"I'll apologize a million times until you believe me," He urged, "Just let me stay by your side until then- please?"

"Okay," You nodded, giving him a watery smile before kissing him again.

You were starting to believe in happy endings again.

masterlist.

[legendaryoikawa]

haikyuu boys and your moments with them

note: female reader insert

warnings: tooth rooting fluff, slightly nsfw, mentions of alcohol, some grammar issues because I didn’t proofread this, sorry 😔

starring: bokuto, semi, matsukawa, tsukishima, sakusa, kageyama and goshiki

thank you for 1,7k!!!

bokuto kotaro: unplanned dates + things he do for you

“hey hey hey babe”

“why?”

“let’s go on a date, i miss u”

The little moments with bokuto is something that you will never forget. Those unplanned dates with just him in his sweats and unruly hair. Those date with him at the park with just him lying on your lap, admiring your face with a cheeky smile painting his lips. Or the way his hands playfully trace small circles on your lap playfully.

Those moments with him that’ll make you neglect your schoolworks in an instant because he pulled out a shenanigan on you (with the help of akaashi, so it’ll look convincing that bokuto is really in pain, but surprise bitch, it’s a prank) but truth is he just want to see your face because volleyball has consumed his time. And you’ll just smack him off for scaring you but he’d just kiss you in return. Kisses that are too strong with passion and desire. He gives more to the point you would be drowning with his passionate spirit.

You love it when he does this small thing where he tugs your stray away hair behind your ear. You always ask him why, but instead of answering your inquiry, he’ll just pull out a bouquet of handpicked flowers from the park and will hand to you.

“You ask why? Is it wrong to admire how absolutely stunning you are?”

sjDJHDBJSB DEAD

semi eita: when he invited you to a nearby gig

beautiful boy invited you and you thought you were just dreaming so he flicked you on your forehead 🥰💀

One thing that you should be taking with you especially when you’re going for a gig is a fucking jacket. Regardless of the event being indoors or outdoors, a fucking jacket is a must.

But you might be someone who lives under the rocks and decided to wear a full glam without taking a jacket to warm you off.

Yet, the night is already starting. Night sky is deep with velvety clouds and twinkling stars. Going back would be such a pain and Semi might be annoyed if you’d pull out a grand entrance because you’re so late. Heaving a sigh, you pulled over the venue where the gig is at. You saw him at the entrance with his signature grey hair styled perfectly and his hands stuffed into his jeans.

He gave you a quick look. “Hey.”

You let out a breath, “hey.”

You noticed that there were no people. No noise. Hell, there weren’t a gig to start with. “Semi?”

“I know. But this is the only thing i could pull of just so i could ask you on a date.”

sakusa kiyoomi: when you know you both share mutual feelings but there is something holding both of you back

you and sakusa both know you share some deep seated feeling towards each other yet neither both of you decided to talk about it.

you fell hard for him even more when you were dead shit drunk (yet, you are still aware of everything around you, however you have the guts to act carelessly even around sakusa) and you decided to tease him by sitting on his lap, when you barged into his dorm room after going hom from a sorrority party.

It really took him by surprise at how vulgar you are with your words. How straightforward you were around him. When in reality when you’re sober, you’d never dare to talk to him, let alone straddling on his lap. Or the way you look at him slowly beneath your lashes. No matter how hard sakusa tries to shut his thoughts, but he wishes to see more of this side of you.

He could smell the reek of alcohol on your breath yet he made no complains whatsoever because it’s you. It’s fucking you. And, he’ll never throw a fit even if it disturbs his personal confort zone, because it’s you that we are talking about here. And, you are in a state of vulnerability because of alcohol, now isn’t a time for him to be a brat about hygiene or whatever.

You whispered, “why are you such a stone, sakusa?”

He didn’t quite understand what you meant by that, but he chose to shut up and stare at your deep, tired eyes. Those eyes that captivated him. Those eyes of yours that he wishes to stare more at.

“I like you so much,” you slurred. “You and your bitchiness about people around you. Y-you..” you paused, shifting yourself comfortably on his lap while you gripped on his shoulders.

Sakusa could hear his own frantic heartbeat. Did you really mean it? But he knows, every shit that a drunk says, is nothing but the truth.

“I l-like you l, ya know that?” You grinned and tumbled but sakusa was fast enough to hold you on you waist. He burried his face onto the crook of you neck and whispered but loud enough for you to hear, “i like you too, but you’re disgusting right now.”

The next day was a beautiful disaster. With him and you in bed.

tsukishima kei: a study date with him at the library

having kei as your tutor could be really cold but what choice do you have?

Kei isn’t the type to sugarcoat things just because he wanted to be the type to give sympathy. But no. He will lash out if your essay is shit and he’ll even rub it onto your face that your choice of words aren’t passing his high standards. Not even a bit. That is how Kei is.

Yet, he knows when to stop with his venomous words. Especially when he knows you were having a bad day and so he decided to act more docile so he wouldn’t hurt more of your feelings.

Study dates with him isn’t too romantic because he prioritizes both of your academic success. But there will be time where he will let you snuggle close to him when the library’s air condition is making you cold. Or when he lets you doodle little dinosaurs on his forearms while he watches you under his stern, golden eyes.

“Why do you keep on playing with my hair? You should be studying your biology, dumbo.” He isn’t annoyed. In fact, he doesn’t want you to stop, he’s just too tsundere to admit.

But you know it well that he loves it so you play with his locks even more while leaning over to place a chaste peck on his cheeks.

Kei flipped his book and whispered. “Why do I love a fucking goner?”

kenma kozume: when he immediately hugged you after his stream

Kenma isn’t the type to be suave with words. But he expresses his affection through action because according to kuroo, that is much more cool.

He just finished a stream and gave away his honest review on how this palace dungeon game is. But is didn’t fazed him at all. In fact, he didn’t liked the graphics at all. A solid five for gamer!kenma

What made him scared is that it is already eleven in the evening yet you were nowhere to be found.

But his anxiousness subsided when he heard the familiar clanking of the front bell. And there you stood at the door, looking gloomy and kenma made sure to act up immediately.

It took you by surprise when he stood up from his seat and immediately wrapped you around his body. The familiar whiff of his cologne mixed with his warmth. This is more than you asked for.

kuroo tetsurou: when he makes fun of you because he likes you so much

King of provocation and chemistry nerd kuroo always love to mess up with you. And you can’t find a way to get to him back or?

“You know what?” Kuroo began.

You raised a brow, “what?”

“You’re small.”

“You’re just tall, Kuroo. Now,” you raised a pencil towards his direction, “leave me alone.”

Kuroo clicked his tongue. Now is the time for him to continue on further to pester you. He isn’t being a jerk though, but he just finds it cute especially when you get agitated with just him and his presence. The way your fist curling and he can’t help but to admire your annoyed face. You’re so damn cute but you just don’t even notice the notable fucking obvious.

Kuroo decided to play with your hair but you had other things in mind. To get back at him just for him to get a taste of his own medicine.

You exerted a lot of effort to pull his collar down just to match you eye level with his. You smiled, “is it just playing with my hair that you could pull off, kuroo?”

You’re donw with him concealing his feeling because he has no guts to come up to you. So you did him a favor. Something that’ll distract him for the rest of his day.

matsukawa issei: 3am dance with him

You were washing the dishes at night when you felt two strong arms encircling your waist.

“Hey.”

Matsukawa’s arms encircled your waist as you washed the dishes one Thursday night. The way he hummed the familiar tune of ‘close to you’ while swaing both of your bodies gracefully. You missed him, especially his familiar scent that smelled like home.

He shuffled his feet so he could have more grasp on the hem of your shirt. His thumb caressed the soft skin that showed from his hold.

You grabbed the sponge and lathered it with soap as Matsukawa clinged onto you. It was a peaceful night, with him on your side, the splashing of water and the sound of his lips kissing the crook of your neck.

You smiled as his kisses grow more playful. But Matsukawa wanted to see your face and so he twirled you so he could plant a kiss onto your lips.

You grinned. “Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here Mister Matsukawa.”

He gave you a cheeky smile back, “well, well, well, too, it was a pleasure seeing your beautiful face, Mrs. Matsukawa.”

You decided to play along with him as he swayed both of your bodies in a slow dance. “I doubt. You have plenty of companions at work, right?”

“Oh please. Among all that I’ve seen, i will always choose you.”

kageyama tobio: late night dates with him at the downtown convenience store

He would act like he just wanted milk but truth is, he wanted you more than the milk he’s addicted to.

“You’re such a dumbass, y/n.” Kageyama scolded when you tripped on your feet but good thing he was there to catch you. He resisted the urge to smile as you gave him a cheeky smile and brushed off the incident like it didn’t cut your self esteem. Humiliation? You don’t know her.

You immediately plopped onto the familiar stool of the convinience store after you grabbed ome of your favorite sponge cakes.

“Stop eating the poor cake like there is no tommorow, baka”

You made a face. “Call me a glutton, but these are the best among all sponge cake made.”

Kageyama raised a brow. Confused, he leaned in but you raised the empty container to his face. You suppresed a laugh, “Told you, I’m a glutton.”

He frowned. “I really don’t need to take a bite of that cake just to have a taste.”

“Wha—?”

He kissed you. And you were right. The sponge cakes were tasty.

goshiki tsutomo: walking home with him from the late academy

Nothing’s more enjoyable than having goshiki’s presence with you after going home from a hellish class from the academy.

“I am the future ace! You heard that, y/n?” Goshiki proudly yelled while both of you were walking home from the supplemental classes. You tried to match his energy. Yet, no matter how hard you try, you were just too drained to yell with him.

Goshiki had managed to read you even when you didn’t said it to his face. No words were needed because he knows you well like you were his very own diary. He pulled you by your cardigan to enclose you in his lean body.

He heard him whisper as he burried his nose on your hair. “You can always rely on me, idiot. If you’re tired, then tell me so i could somehow make you happy.”

—

Hello!! Sorry if this was tOO LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY HAHAHAHAHHA but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! Also, thank you for 1,7K U GUYS ARE THE BEST! Love you all!! 🥺💖💖💖

[adorethedistance]

Dating Owen Joyner Would Include...

JATP masterlist

A/n: ask and you shall recieve ! Owen content is here! Albeit its not a full fledged fic, but headcanon lists are fun and I enjoy doing them. Okay enjoy and also I wanna work on some hockey!charlie content too.

➢ This man is a confirmed anxious wreck so the first time he asked you out, he was a disaster

➢ Starts off smooth talking but when you laugh in his face at how out of character he’s acting he’s able to relax and be himself

➢ You liked Owen for his nervous goofy witty self and you’re glad he had dropped the act

➢ Your first date has to be something super romantic but a little creative and unconventional

➢ I fully believe Owen is a picnic under the stars kind of guy

➢ If you’re temperature sensitive he’d take the Tesla and y’all could watch through the sunroof and maybe a movie on the little screen

➢ If you’re not, he’d for sure take the truck and fill the bed of it with pillows and blankets and such

➢ Either way he’d want you to be as comfortable as possible

➢ Not sure what it is about him but I get the vibe he can’t cook

➢ So take out for the win on this one

➢ He’d absolutely ask you what you’d want to name your kids because Owen seems like a very forward guy in the sweetest but dorkiest way possible

➢ You two spend the entire night having deep conversation

➢ Owen doesn’t ramp into talking about kids names

➢ Talking about having kids IS the ramping into things

➢ It’s not very existential but you definitely spend an hour or two talking about your perspectives on life and why you’re here

➢ He def gives me deep conversation vibes

➢ So the relationship is off to a great start for sure

➢ He wouldn’t tell you what to wear or how to dress ever

➢ He’d compliment you non-stop

➢ But he’d love little comments you’d make in passing about certain outfits he wears or how he styles his hair

➢ Anything you say that you like about his style or appearance he’d absolutely remember all of them

➢ And he’d absolutely start dressing and styling his look like that more often

➢ Your arguments are the dumbest arguments on the planet

➢ But you��re both so invested in them

➢ “Water is/isn’t wet” kind of dumb

➢ In other words, passion is not something your relationship lacks

➢ Owen can be clueless sometimes but he’s not beyond help

➢ Like he has oblivious moments

➢ But the gestures that he does make?

➢ So sweet you could cry

➢ I’m talking 100 roses for valentines sweet

➢ Or candlelit dinner where he learned to cook your favorite food

➢ Or putting on his actor/filmmaker hat and analyzing your favorite movie just so he can understand you better

➢ Of course, every relationship has its downsides

➢ For you and Owen, it’s Charlie

➢ Not that Charlie doesn’t respect boundaries and when you two need time alone

➢ It’s that in the time he does spend with y’all, you’re basically babysitting

➢ Being Owen’s other half means being Charlie’s whole impulse control

➢ “Charlie, we can’t just have ice cream for dinner”

➢ “Charlie, you can’t just leave a load of laundry to sit overnight before drying it”

➢ Bear in mind though, sometimes you’re the whole impulse control to Owen being Charlie’s other half of a whole idiot

➢ Charlie has some dumb ideas, we know this

➢ “Owen, I dare you to jump into that fountain”

➢ “I’ll do it for five bucks”

➢ “Stop it both of you!”

➢ Owen is so affectionate with his pets I’m sure he would be with his s/o as well

➢ Cuddles cuddles cuddles

➢ Hugs from behind

➢ Lazy mornings in bed

➢ Lazy days in general where you two just stay in bed all day

➢ He is the BEST karaoke partner

➢ He’d know the words to any and every song you’d choose

➢ All he’d ask is for you to throw in a little high school musical into the mix

➢ There’s not a lot of negative energy in the household once you two move in together

➢ But there is some stress due to adjusting to an actor’s schedule in your own life

➢ No matter what, you two are there for one another, crazy schedules and all

***

A/n: I’m sorry this was short but coming out of a writing drought, going back into one, and coming out again has taken a toll 

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