#still questionable why i needed it on my calendar

[sleeplessspell]

"Graveyard Shift"

The 7-Eleven off Highway 19 in Boudreaux, Louisiana, had stood there for as long as anyone could remember—fluorescent-lit, eternally half-stocked, and faintly smelling of burnt coffee and powdered donuts. But it wasn’t the hot dogs spinning endlessly on the roller grill or the inexplicably sticky Slurpee machine that made the place a local legend.

It was Gregor.

Gregor—no last name—was the night shift manager, though he’d worked just about every shift over the last fifty years. Pale as drywall, he wore his hair slicked back like a 1950s greaser, always dressed in a crisp store uniform with his name tag pinned perfectly over his heart (or slightly to the left of where one would expect a heart to be). If you looked closely, his nametag had once read “George,” but it had been scribbled over in Sharpie years ago and replaced with "Gregor" in painstaking block letters.

He claimed to be 34.

No one questioned it.

His accent was something of a mystery. Gregor believed it to be flawless Southern American English—“like the broadcast peoples,” he’d say proudly. In reality, he sounded like Dracula doing an impression of a Chicago news anchor from 1952.

“This is Amer-ee-ca,” he liked to say, spreading his arms wide over the convenience store. “Land of dreams. Land of discounts on taquitos vith purchase of any 32-ounce beverage.”

People in Boudreaux adored him.

Part of it was that he never took a sick day, never came in late, and always remembered birthdays. The other part was that his quirks were... well, endearing. The man never cast a shadow in the fluorescent lights, flinched at crucifix jewelry, and was once caught frantically hiding garlic-flavored potato chips in the dumpster behind the store.

“That flavor is offensive to my nasal sensitivities,” he explained one night, hurling a box labeled "Lay’s Garlic Parmesan" into the bin with a hiss. “Also, they expire soon. I am being environmentally conscious.”

The box had an expiration date for six months later.

Everyone laughed it off. The high schoolers who worked the register made a game of finding where Gregor hid the garlic chips each week. One time he tried to disguise them as “donation snacks for orphans of war,” but the Sharpie-written label on the box was suspiciously in cursive only found in 19th-century battle manuscripts.

Still, he ran the store like a dream.

The coolers were always stocked, the hot dogs rotated with mechanical precision, and the candy aisle was never out of gummy worms. He even kept the public bathroom clean. Clean.

“That man’s a saint,” Mrs. June Dupont said, clutching her usual scratch-offs one Sunday morning. “A little weird, sure, but ain’t we all? He’s got a system.”

A system indeed. Gregor didn’t use the computerized scheduling software like corporate wanted. Instead, he used an elaborate wall calendar he kept in the office—written in an ornate, looping calligraphy no one could read except him. He insisted it was English. “Old script,” he said. “Colonial-era flourish.”

When asked why he only scheduled night shifts for himself, he replied, “I am, how you say, sensitive to... solar irritations. Much sunscreen vould be needed. It is not cost-efficient.”

No one pushed him. After all, the graveyard shift ran smooth as silk. He caught shoplifters before they knew they were shoplifting. He gave tourists directions to nowhere that somehow got them exactly where they needed to go. And his coffee? Inexplicably good.

“Gregor,” one of the teens, Tommy, asked once, “you got, like, a coffee recipe?”

Gregor smiled mysteriously, showing just a bit too much tooth. “The secret... is age. Like a good vine. Or a deeply buried secret.”

Tommy blinked. “Cool.”

The only real problem Gregor had was with Italians.

It started with the road crew that came down from New York one summer. One of them, Gioacchino, walked in wearing a strong cologne and munching on garlic knots.

Gregor recoiled like a man slapped by God.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, pinching his nose. “You must consume your... stench-food... outside.”

Carmine blinked. “Ma what?”

“Stench. Food,” Gregor repeated. “Very offensive. Also—fire hazard.”

The construction crew found it hilarious. Gregor banned all garlic items from the store’s snack racks the next week. He labeled the shelf where they had been as “Out of Season,” though it was July.

Another time, a visiting Italian-American family from Baton Rouge came in, cheerful and loud, asking for directions to the swamp tour.

Gregor pointed them politely to a detour that led, reportedly, to the exact opposite side of the parish.

“I believe they vill enjoy the scenic route,” he said later. “It builds character. And... ventilation.”

His employees kept a running list of “Gregorisms” in the break room.

“Humans love sugar vater. It is excellent distraction.”

“I mean—ve love sugar vater.”

“This is no blood. Is red smoothie. Vith... tomato.”

“I do not vanish. I simply move very quickly behind shelving.”

He insisted on installing blackout curtains in the break room—“for glare reasons”—and never once opened the walk-in freezer. He claimed it was “too cold for his ancient bones,” which was fair until you remembered the age he claimed to be.

And then there was the mirror.

For reasons no one could explain, the bathroom mirror never reflected Gregor. When questioned, he explained, “I am so clean, the mirror... cannot contain me. Like angels.”

The story might’ve ended there, with Gregor blissfully managing his store and avoiding garlic-based products, had it not been for an overenthusiastic regional manager named Susan who was transferred from Austin.

Susan was a by-the-book, clipboard-carrying efficiency machine. She arrived in a rented SUV, wearing corporate polos and a bluetooth headset, determined to “revitalize underperforming districts.” She took one look at the Boudreaux 7-Eleven and started writing notes.

Gregor greeted her with his usual eerie smile. “Velcome, corporate mistress. I am Gregor. May I offer you hot dog at discount price?”

Susan looked puzzled. “Thanks, but I’m good. We need to talk about your inventory inconsistencies. Why are you returning all garlic chip shipments? We have data that shows a high demand in southern markets.”

Gregor straightened. “I am being regionally sensitive. The people here do not enjoy the pungency of the... cursed tuber.”

“Garlic isn’t a tuber,” Susan said.

“I am not... science man,” Gregor replied, waving vaguely.

She frowned. “Also, why do you only work night shifts?”

“Solar irritations.”

“That’s not a thing, Gregor.”

Gregor gave a solemn nod. “You vould not understand. The night calls to me. Also, I glow in daylight. Like disco ball. Distracts customers.”

Susan sighed. “Look, I’m not here to nitpick, but corporate is concerned that you��re—uh—playing a character.”

Gregor blinked. “Character?”

“Like... the vampire thing?”

Silence.

Gregor leaned in. “You think I am... playing?”

Susan blinked. “Wait, you’re not—?”

From behind the shelves, Tommy cleared his throat.

“Hey Ms. Susan,” he called. “Gregor’s just like that. He’s legit the best manager I’ve ever had. Like, weird? Yeah. But the man gave me a paid day off for my dog’s birthday.”

“She is small and noble hound,” Gregor said fondly. “Deserved celebration.”

Susan looked between them, confused. “But... the accent?”

“I speak perfect American,” Gregor said confidently.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Finally, she just exhaled.

“Fine. Whatever. Keep doing what you’re doing. Just stop returning inventory without reason.”

Gregor bowed low. “As you command, o’ she-who-judges.”

Susan left after an hour, deeply unsettled and suspiciously pale. She transferred districts a month later.

Halloween became a local event. Kids came dressed as Gregor—slicked-back hair, cape from the costume aisle, plastic fangs, and all. He greeted each of them solemnly.

“You honor me, child of sugar. May your harvest be plentiful.”

Somewhere along the line, Gregor stopped pretending not to be a vampire. Or maybe he never pretended in the first place. But the townsfolk of Boudreaux didn’t care. The store was always open. The coffee was always hot. And Gregor never forgot a single face.

They said he once saved a man from a burning car by “moving very quickly,” then refused the local newspaper’s request for a photo. “I do not photograph vell,” he said. “Lenses tremble in my presence.”

No one pressed him.

Years rolled on. Staff came and went. The 7-Eleven updated its logo, installed new payment systems, and even added electric vehicle chargers. But Gregor remained.

The new hires were warned on day one.

“He’s not joking,” they were told. “He really doesn’t like garlic. Don’t bring Italian takeout. And don’t question the accent.”

“He’s just Gregor.”

And that was enough.

Later that night, he stood alone behind the counter, counting exact change by feel. A moth fluttered near the buzzing fluorescent light.

He looked up, eyes glowing faintly red.

Then he smiled, small and sharp.

“Another good day,” he murmured.

And the night went on.

Just like it always had.

Just like it always would.

A vampire has worked at the local 7-11 for the past 5 decades. No one has the heart to slay them—partly because they're a good employee, but mostly because they think the vampire is doing a "great job" hiding their vampirism (they're really not).

[theemporium]

[6.1k] most of the league welcome a bye week as all-stars hits the season calendar. with both brothers picked and the rest of the boys on the team flying out somewhere warm for the break, luke has a decision to make. and that decision ends up being a staycation in new jersey with you—not that anyone else in his life really understand why. (smut)

series masterlist

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“Whoever is in charge of this schedule sounds like a sadist.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah!” You repeated with a small huff, staring down at your phone screen where—he presumed—you were looking at the Devils’ game schedule. “Surely there’s a better way than playing, like, three back to backs in such a short time span.” 

“It’s hockey,” Luke shrugged, like that somehow explained everything. “It’s just how it is. How it’s always been, to be honest.” 

“This makes no sense,” you grumbled, your eyes narrowed in distaste. “You literally played four games last week! Four! In the space of six days!” 

Luke snorted. “Yeah, Cherry, I’m fully aware. I was at the games. Playing.” 

You shot him a look before letting your brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.” 

“The schedule?” Luke asked. 

“No, the hockey player sex god stereotype,” you retorted. “How the hell do they find the time to even have sex? How the hell do they have the energy to even have sex?”

Luke tried—and mostly failed—to bite back his grin. “That’s your big question about hockey players?” 

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “I know you are professionals and all but surely this is a bit ridiculous.”

“Hockey is hockey,” Luke answered, shrugging once again. “It’s just always how it’s been.” 

“So, hockey players are sex gods and sadists,” you muttered to yourself, your focus back on your phone screen. “Good to know.” 

Luke only laughed in response. 

“I don’t get why they don’t just move some of the games to the first week in February,” you pointed out. “You have nothing on then.” 

“Because that’s when All-Stars is,” Luke answered. “They send a bunch of guys from different teams to compete in these challenges and stuff.” 

“Like the Hunger Games?” 

“I—” Luke’s nose scrunched up. “Yeah, but less death and violence. People usually stay nice for it.” 

“Have you been reaped?” You questioned, grinning a little. 

Luke rolled his eyes. “No, I have not. They choose the best.” 

You frowned. “You are the best. You’re the best hockey player I know.” 

Luke shot you a look. “I’m the only hockey player you know.” 

“Semantics,” you waved him off. “My point still stands.” 

“No, I get something better,” he stated. “I get a week off.”

You grinned. “Big plans?” 

Luke shrugged. “Honestly, I was just looking forward to a week without Jack banging on my door for morning skate.”

“So you’re going to spend the week hibernating,” you teased, lightly nudging his thigh with your foot. But before you could pull your foot back, Luke had grabbed your ankle and easily maneuvered your feet onto his lap. “God, I’ll need to find someone else to cook for me for a week then.” 

And the thing is that Luke knew you were just teasing. For all his claims of being a great cook (which he was, just in the few meals he actually knew how to cook), he had grown into a comfortable habit with you. He enjoyed spending time at your place. He enjoyed unwinding after bad games or grueling practices. He just enjoyed being around you, both before and after his recent realisation of his feelings. 

But now he was staring at you from across the couch, watching the way you were lounging in one of his old Michigan sweatshirts and just felt that overwhelming urge to say something stupid. 

Instead, he settled on, “you should come over.” 

You paused, raising your brows. “Come over where?” 

“To my place,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Jack will be gone and I’ll have the place to myself. We can just—” He paused, his brain going blank at the sight of your amused expression. “Chill.” 

“Chill?” You repeated, grinning.

“Chill,” he nodded, squeezing your ankle. “Just…I feel like…I’m always imposing in your space, you know? You can impose in my space too.” 

“You are a weird guy, Hughes,” you commented, though Luke liked to think you sounded fond when you spoke. 

“Is that a no?” He asked before he could help himself.

You beamed in response. “It’s not a no.” 

He felt something quite like hope spark in his chest. “So, it’s a yes?” 

“Depends,” your eyes glinted. “Are you still Team Stefan? Because if the answer is yes, I will have to decline.” 

Luke groaned. “I said that after we watched, like, three episodes! Stop holding that over my head!” 

…

“This sucks!” 

“Yes, it sucks so much being acknowledged for your skills,” Dawson deadpanned, watching the way Jack wandered around the locker room after practice, whining and complaining about everyone else making their Bye Week plans.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jack huffed, narrowing his eyes at the boy before shifting his attention to Nico, eyes wide and hopeful. “Take me with you? I want to go somewhere warm. I want to go somewhere where the chances of freezing my balls off are lower than zero.” 

“Dude,” Nate scrunched his nose, laughing. “We play ice hockey for a living, you can handle a bit of cold.” 

“Suck it up, superstar,” Curtis called out with a huge grin. “Gotta pay up for having the Hughes name on the back of your jersey.” 

“Moose lucked out,” Jack sighed. “I have Quinn and the bajillion Canucks players that are also going. I swear he rigged the thing.”

“Bajillion?” Nico repeated with a disgustingly fond expression.

“Bajillion,” Jack nodded. “There’s too many of them. No one needs that many Canucks in one place. It’s an infestation.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means,” Nate snorted. 

Jack glared. 

“You not going up to Toronto to support your brothers?” Dawson asked, turning his head to look over at Luke. However, the boy barely reacted. He repeated the question again, and one more time before finally throwing a ball of rolled up tape at the side of Luke’s head.

Luke tore his eyes away from his phone, snapping his head up to find half the locker room already staring at him. “What? What did I miss?” 

“Jack complaining about All Stars,” Curtis answered.

“Oh,” Luke blinked. “So nothing new then?” 

“You're not going to Toronto?” Nico asked this time, before Curtis could say whatever witty response he had ready to go.

“Uh, no,” Luke shook his head. 

“Scared you’ll steal their thunder?” Nate joked, patting Luke’s shoulder as he walked past to get to his stall. 

Jack snorted. “He thinks he’s too cool for Toronto. Probably following John to wherever the hell he is going.” 

John’s ears perked, turning whilst he was still removing some of his gear. “What? Luke said he didn’t want to come with us.” 

Jack paused, frowning a little before turning to Luke. “You’re not going away for the week?” 

Luke could feel his cheeks burning up. “No?” 

Jack’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“At least he also won’t be somewhere warm,” Nico stepped in, a hand on Jack’s shoulder providing more than enough distraction from Jack asking questions as he turned to look at Nico with the embarrassingly obvious heart eyes he has always had for the captain.

It gave Luke the short reprieve he wanted, avoiding the other curious looks he was getting as he glanced down at his phone screen for a moment, grinning at the messages before he locked it and put it back in his bag so he could finish getting changed.

cherry🍒: i hope you know that i am using this opportunity to steal as many of your hoodies as i can before the week is over 

cherry🍒: consider this your one and only warning

…

It was surprisingly easy to prevent Jack from asking any more questions. 

A little too easy, if Luke was being honest. 

But Luke was also not an idiot so he didn’t question Jack’s silence after he mentioned a friend would be staying with Luke for the week. Jack had just stared blankly for a few moments before laughing, shaking his head and walking out the room, muttering something about needing to stop by Nico’s after he finished packing. Luke took it as the blessing it was and didn’t bring it up again.

Truthfully, it didn’t hit Luke how insane it felt to have you with him the whole week until he was running around the apartment, cleaning up whatever he could before his phone began ringing from the other room.

“Dude, you have shit timing.” 

Ethan laughed on the other side of the phone. “You’ve been ignoring me! I feel abandoned. What happened to the Luke who said he missed me?” 

“I never said that,” Luke retorted.

“Rude,” Ethan huffed. “Why do you sound so out of breath? Were you training or something?” 

“Nah, just tidying the place up,” Luke replied absentmindedly, staring at the hoodie he picked up on the floor with a frown. If he was being honest, he didn’t know if it was his or Jack’s, and usually he didn’t care. But the image of you wearing it thinking it belonged to him when in reality it was Jack’s passed his mind and he quickly shoved it into the washing basket. That would be a problem he dealt with later.

“Ugh, don’t even,” Ethan whined on the other side of the phone. “I’m so jealous, dude. I would kill to be on a beach somewhere right now.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered as he continued to pick up a few empty bottles of gatorade on the coffee table before pausing. “Wait, what? What the fuck are you on about? Who’s going to the beach?” 

Ethan sounded just as confused on the other side. “You?” 

“No, I’m not?” Luke replied, frowning. “I just told you, I’m at my place.” 

“Yeah, because you are tidying up before you fly out somewhere. For Bye Week.”

“Who told you that?”

“I thought it was obvious? Why the fuck would you not be flying out somewhere?” 

And honestly, Luke didn’t have much of a comeback for that one. Because to everyone else, it did seem weird. He knew that. He gathered as much from the rest of the boys’ reactions in the locker room the other day. He gathered it from Jack’s reaction and Quinn’s message (‘wtf rusty’) when he broke the news in the brothers group chat. 

He knew. 

But somehow trying to justify it to one of his best friends over the phone made him realise how fucking dodgy it sounded when none of them really knew about you.

“So, let me get this straight.” 

Luke let out a deep sigh.

“You declined on going up to Toronto with your brothers because you didn’t want to impose, or whatever dumb shit you said, and let them enjoy All-Stars.” 

“Yes.” 

“And then you had the offer to go to Cabo and the Bahamas with teammates, which you also declined.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And then you decided to stay in New Jersey instead of even visiting us up in Michigan with your week off?” 

“Yup.”

“Dude,” Ethan squawked, offended and confused and downright discombobulated. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a concussion? Is this like a mid-season breakdown? Do I need to call for help?” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“I think I am being perfectly reasonable here.” 

Luke disagreed—majorly—but he valued his life so he stayed silent.

“You’re gonna get so bored staying in Jersey all week,” Ethan pointed out. “What are you even gonna do?” 

Luke opened his mouth to reply just as the buzzer sounded through the apartment. If anyone asked, he would deny the way his face instantly broke out into a smile. 

“Sleep my ass off. It’s hard being in the NHL,” Luke said in the snobbiest voice he could, letting Ethan cackle on the other side and try to get another word in before he spoke up again. “Look, I gotta run, I’ll call you later. Promise.” 

“He plays in the big leagues and thinks he’s so much better than us.” 

“I am better than you,” Luke grinned. “I remember winning beer pong.” 

“That doesn’t fucking count! Mark was the one who—” 

“Bye, Ethan!” 

Luke couldn’t hang up and rush to open the door fast enough. 

…

Deep down, he knew it was stupid for him to feel nervous about you staying over at his place for the week. 

He had stayed over at yours more times than he could count on one hand. You had become an integral part of his life in New Jersey. You were one of his closest friends. He knew you. He knew you knew him. There should have been nothing that made the week weird. 

But he couldn’t help but feel like it meant more. This was him inviting you to stay over for a few days, to stay at his place whilst his brother was out of town, to spend the week with him when he should be resting and drinking some overpriced cocktail on a beach somewhere warm. 

You were his friend but spending his whole stay-cation with him in his apartment like the two of you were playing house was something far from platonic. 

It was a bit of a mindfuck, but not as much as realising just how fucking easy it all was.

It was different from the various nights he spent at your apartment. It was different seeing you in his space, fitting into his life so easily. It was different seeing you relaxed and laid back, looking like you belonged. 

It was different from the night at his birthday party, where you were one of many faces. It was just you and him, standing in his kitchen or sitting on his couch or lying in his bed. It felt so different but so fucking good. 

Only a few days had passed and yet Luke forgot a time where you weren’t here, where you weren’t by his side throughout the whole day. 

It was dangerous but the warning signs were easy to ignore when his attention was fully focused on you.

“Are you calling me lanky?” 

“It was a compliment!” You insisted, but there was a smile on your face—not that he could see, considering your face was currently pressed against his chest as the two of you laid on the couch to watch the fastest skater skill event. “You would do well in this challenge. It would take you, like, five less strides than the rest of them.”

Luke snorted. “Geez, thanks.” 

“You’ll see,” you murmured, nuzzling your head further into his chest. “You’ll do it one day and win and know that I’m right.”

“And then you’ll tell me ‘I told you so’?” Luke guessed, his eyes now on you rather than the tv screen. 

“Obviously,” you replied, lifting your head so your chin was resting on the spot your cheek was squished against moments ago. “I’m always right, Hughes. The sooner you accept that fact, the easier your life will be.” 

Luke raised his brows in amusement. “So when you very confidently said that you loved that movie where Andrew Garfield played Batman—” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, lightly pinching his side but he quickly caught your hand. “We were watching Twilight! I was thinking about Robert Pattinson! I got confused!” 

“Uh huh,” Luke beamed. “Just always so right—”

“You’re being a dick,” you huffed, even if you were smiling. “Here I was trying to give you a compliment—”

“By calling me lanky.”

“—and this is the thanks I get,” you shook your head. 

Luke’s expression softened, his hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. “Thank you, Cherry. I appreciate the confidence.” 

“Confidence is sexy,” you retorted, your palms warm and comforting against his sides. “Soon you won’t need me to remind you.” 

“But I like when you say it,” Luke retorted.

“Professional athletes and their praise kinks,” you sighed, grinning a little when he reached down to pinch your side this time. 

“I’m the only professional athlete you know,” Luke pointed out, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach at the mere idea that maybe he wasn’t. That maybe you knew more, that maybe you had experience with more, that maybe they were far more experienced than him and—

“And you have a praise kink,” you said, interrupting his spiralling thoughts. “Therefore, my theory has not been disproved. I’m right.”

Luke’s cheeks burned hot. “I do not have a praise kink.”

You snorted, grinning as you lifted a hand to playfully squeeze his cheeks. “Aw, baby, you do and it’s hot. Don’t get all shy about it.”

“Whatever,” Luke murmured, turning his focus back to the tv instead of the growing smirk on your face. 

But the thought lingered in his mind even as the two of you continued to cuddle on the couch, watching whatever movie you had chosen after the All-Stars events ended. It picked at his brain, chipping away at the self-restraint he had to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the night until the two of you were getting ready for bed. 

He was lingering by the doorway, watching you get your side of the bed (because apparently that was also something that came easily to the two of you) ready before you climbed into bed. And before he could stop himself, he was already blurting out the words that were on the tip of his tongue for most of the night.

“Do you really think the praise kink thing is hot?” 

His cheeks were already blushy and pink and hot when you turned your head to look at him.

“How long have you been wanting to ask that?” You asked, something lighthearted and teasing in your voice that was oddly reassuring. You didn’t think he was a freak for asking. Not that he ever assumed you would judge him, you both were far from that point. 

“Does it change your answer?” He asked, not sounding half as confident as he wanted to. 

Your smile softened a little as you walked around the bed and towards him. You tilted your head back once you were in front of him, watching him with a look he couldn’t quite work out. 

Luke swallowed a little.

“It doesn’t change my answer,” you answered honestly. 

Luke could feel something in his chest tighten. “And what’s your answer?” 

“I think it’s hot,” you told him, saying it so casually as though the two of you were discussing the weather. “I think everyone has a praise kink to some extent but…”

Luke could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “But?” 

“But it’s different with you,” you said, your fingers lightly skimming against his stomach before curling around the hem of his shirt. “You’re so…responsive. It’s hot.” 

His body twitched, like his skin was too tight for his body. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling a little before using the grasp on his shirt to tug him closer and close the distance between you both. Not that there was much.

Luke was almost embarrassed by the noise he made the second your lips were on his, your hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as you used the leverage against him. He ducked his head down, trying to chase your lips as you continued to tease him and tempt him. He barely realised his feet were moving until the back of your knees hit the bed and you pulled back to look at him. 

“So pretty,” you murmured, close enough to hear the way his breath hitched before you moved down onto the bed, with your grasp on his shirt enough to drag him down with you. 

It was far from sexy, if Luke was being honest. An awkward maneuver of too many limbs and shuffling up the bed that should have ruined the moment, but it didn’t. Because it was you and you were laughing and smiling and snorting when Luke almost decked it on top of you after he got his foot stuck. You made it feel so normal. Like it was all just a part of the charm. 

Maybe it was. Maybe feeling safe enough to be human and imperfect was a part of the charm. 

Because despite the uncoordinated and clumsy scrambling onto the bed, you were still looking at him like you wanted to see how pink his cheeks could turn.

Luke barely put up a fight when you pulled him back down, happily following your movements as he settled between your legs and let you wind your arms around his neck so his nose was brushing against yours before you leaned in to kiss him again. 

Unlike a lot of the other makeout sessions the two of you had, there was no rush. There was no lingering adrenaline from a game he wanted to work off or some bad plays he wanted to forget. There were no teasing messages or risky phone calls that were building up to this moment. There was absolutely nothing but just the two of you lying in his bed, making out because you wanted to. 

Because you wanted to kiss him and he wanted to kiss you. Because you enjoyed the weight of him on top of you and he enjoyed the way your fingers entangled themselves in his curls. Because for reasons that were beyond his understanding, you wanted this as much as he did.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his tongue lightly skimming over the area of his bottom lip you nipped with your teeth.

You smiled up at him. “See? So responsive. It’s cute.” 

He swallowed. “Cute?”

“Cute, hot, sexy, whatever word you want to use, pretty boy,” you murmured, one hand sliding down to cup his face as your thumb skimmed over the apple of his cheek. “All I know is that I like the noises you make.” 

Luke responded by leaning back down, kissing you because he could, because he wanted to, because he liked the way your laugh vibrated against his lips before you kissed back.

But whatever control Luke thought he had on himself when he was with you quickly dwindled as you pulled him closer, letting his body fall on top of you and let your thighs squeeze his sides until he was rocking his hips against yours, until he was practically panting between kisses.

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing one, two, three pecks against his lips before your lips traced along his cheek and down his jaw. “That’s it, baby. I can feel how much you like this. S’cute how worked up you get just making out.”

“You’re hot,” he gasped out, like it was self-explanatory. Like it justified why he could feel his dick twitching in his sweatpants, probably already making a mess that he would pretend didn’t embarrass him as much as it did.

Your smile was softer, your hand on his face feeling more intimate as you guided his eyes to meet yours. “I think,” you started, your thumb lightly tracing down his cheek and skimming his bottom lip. “You’re hot too. And that you can come like this. Make a mess f’me.” 

And fuck, he could.

It wouldn’t be the first time he did, helplessly grinding against you whilst you kissed him and praised him and made his head fucking spin before he was coming harder than he really should be able to from a simple act. He could lean down, press his lips against yours and slide his tongue against yours and feel the way you cling onto him as he comes. He could do it. 

But there was a buzzing voice in the back of his head, getting louder and louder until—

“I bought condoms.” 

He could see the initial surprise on your face as you processed the words he just blurted out, the eyes locked on his kiss-swollen lips shifting to look up and watch the way he squirmed under the realisation of his words. He watched the way you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes narrowing slightly like you were observing him, keeping on edge until he spoke.

“You bought condoms,” you repeated, trying and failing to keep the smile off your face. “Big plans for this week?” 

“I—” Luke’s face burned. “That wasn’t… didn’t mean…I was just—” 

“Luke,” you said in a softer voice, your smile faltering a little into something more sincere. “M’only teasing.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, a knot twisting in his stomach with every passing second. He swore he was moments away from just exploding out of pure embarrassment or something just as humiliating. 

“Breathe for me,” you murmured, smiling a little when he let out a shaky breath. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Just because you bought them, doesn’t mean we have to do anything with them just yet.”

Luke swallowed, his whole body thrumming as he replied. “I…I want to.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his brows furrowing slightly. “Only if you want to, too. Because consent is sexy, you know.”

You laughed a little, both hands now cupping his face so your eyes could meet his. “I do, if you want this. If you’re ready.” 

“It is,” he whispered, nodding again. “I trust you, Cherry. I want this. With you.” 

“Okay,” you whispered before kissing him again, slow and sure and content. 

It made him feel a little less like his skin was shrinking all over his body.

And you kept kissing him until his body didn’t feel so tense, until he didn’t feel like a wooden plank on top of you, until he was relaxed and making those little noises between kisses that let you know he wasn’t as nervous as before. 

You kept kissing him as you lightly nudged him back, letting him lean back on his knees until he was straddling your body, giving him enough movement to lean over and scramble through his nightstand until he found the unopened box of condoms.

He tried to tear the plastic covering over the box off, tried to peel it away but his hands were shaking more than he liked and his heart was pounding in his chest and—

“Hey, relax,” you murmured softly, sitting up and taking the box from his hands with little fight from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish smile. “Nerves, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you promised. “You know we can stop at any time, just say the word.” 

He swallowed harshly. “No, I do—”

“I know,” you smiled. “But I also want you to know that.” 

“Only if you do too,” Luke responded, looking completely serious as he said it. “If you want to stop at any moment too, you have to say something too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this with me because it’s my…first time or whatever.”

“I promise,” you smiled before nudging him back, until he was settled with his back against the headboard and you were on his lap. “Don’t worry about the condoms right now, okay? Just focus on me.” 

And Luke did.

Because, in complete honesty, it was very easy to ignore the box of condoms and the bubbling nerves and the growing realisation of what was about to happen. The voice in the back of his head saying ‘oh fuck, this is it’ was barely a whisper when his focus was on you. 

It was easy to get lost in the familiarity of you. He was used to this. He was used to you sitting on his lap, straddling his thighs and kissing him senseless. He was used to you dragging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the side. He was used to you tugging his sweatpants down and letting your own follow and guiding his hand between your legs whilst you whispered filthy things against his lips. 

He was used to the way you always targeted the spot just behind his ear, blowing cool air until he physically shivered. He was used to the way your eyes fluttered shut when his thumb lightly skimmed across your nipple. He was used to choking out a breathless moan whenever your thumb slid along the slit on the head of his cock. He was used to the way you tugged on his hair when you were close, letting the dull pain throb wonderfully at the base of his skull whilst you pressed your face against his shoulder. 

You were right, all those weeks ago back at the start of the season, when you said he needed to build up to this moment. You were right about the different experiences and experiments the two of you had tried and tested over the last few months. You were right when you said it was just like practicing hockey. 

It felt a bit fucking poetic and pathetic to compare his sex life to hockey right now, but he got it. 

The same nerves that bubbled up before his first NHL game were no different. Because even though he had played hockey his whole life, it still felt nerve-wracking to play in the NHL. And even though he had spent the last few months doing so much with you, it was still kind of daunting to know it was all leading up to this.

But just like his first NHL game, it just felt right. 

You felt right. 

This whole moment felt right. 

Luke knew he was not like his friends or teammates. He had spent years growing up with locker room talk, hearing about random hookups in the backseat of a car or halfhearted blowjobs in a bar bathroom. He heard about one night stands and casual flings and situationships that tended to go sour. He had heard it all and it was unsettling to imagine that was the future waiting for him. 

But it wasn’t. 

And it felt a bit comforting to know that he never had to look back on this experience and regret the person he was with or where he was or whatever stupid risk it could cause his career. All he had to think about was him and you and the way you were looking just as affected and turned on as he was right now.

“You still sure?” You whispered, soft and comforting and so fucking caring, it made his throat feel a little tight. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling a little as he leaned in to kiss you again to emphasise his point. “I trust you. I want this with you.” 

You smiled, still looking so fucking genuine before you leaned over to grab the box of condoms, removing the plastic peel with an ease he was only slightly jealous of. He watched you grab a small foil packet, glancing at him every few seconds like you were waiting for him to jump back on his decision.

“I trust you,” he repeated, confident and sure. 

His hands laid on your legs as you tore open the foil packet. His hands squeezed the fat of your thighs as you rolled the condom on him, stroking him a few times until he was bucking into your touch. His hands were on your waist, supportive and guiding as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. 

“Shit,” Luke breathed out, his breath shaky and gasping. “Shit.”

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, one hand on his shoulder and the other gripping the back of his neck. “I—fuck—I’ve got you.”

The squeeze of your walls around his cock made him want to close his eyes. It made him want to lean back against the headboard, keep his eyes closed and fucking bask in the feeling of you being so warm and tight and intense around him. But the desire to watch the way his cock disappeared into you was stronger, to watch the way your eyes fluttered shut and your lips parted as you settled fully on his lap. 

It was fucking memesiring watching the way you slowly lifted your hips and sunk down again. It made him feel like his head was spinning as he watched you continued to move, to sink up and down on his cock, to fuck yourself on his cock and moan his name and look into his eyes and—

“Can I—” He cut himself off, a pathetic and whiny noise leaving his lips when you squeezed around him. “Can I please—”

“Whatever you want,” you murmured, breathless and panting as you leaned in to kiss him like you needed it.

He let himself enjoy the kiss, to enjoy the feeling of being inside you and the weight of you on his lap and your lips on his before he moved. Before he reminded his brain that he can move, that he didn’t have to feel so boneless and helpless, as he shifted until the two of you had rolled over and you were beneath him and—

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, loud and shameless as he hooked an arm under your knee, lifting your leg out of the way enough for him to thrust back in as your head feel back against the pillow. “Shit, yes, like that.” 

For a second, it was hard to remember he was even in his own body as he watched you. It was fucking mesmerising as he watched you moan and whine beneath him, as he felt your nails digging into his skin and scratching down his back as you demanded him for more, as you muttered his name between pleas and begs and whimpers. 

Luke kind of wished this moment would last forever. 

Unfortunately for him, he was utterly weak when it came to you. Because you were pretty and sweet and you felt fucking unreal around him, and you were looking at him like he fucking meant something and—

It was so much. Too much. Just fucking enough. 

“I can’t—” He gasped out, his whole body feeling like it was buzzing alive as the knot in his stomach twisted tighter and his thrusts became sloppier. “I’m not gonna last long—”

“Come for me,” you breathed out, your hands cupping his cheeks as you wound your legs around his waist. “C’mon, Luke, wanna feel you come in me.” 

And well, he stood no fucking chance lasting after you said that to him.

He could have sworn his ears were ringing when he came. It was intense and overwhelming and disorienting and, fuck, it felt so good. He could feel his muscles tensing, his body rigid and shaking as his orgasm washed over him. He could feel the wave of pleasure rushing through him, leaving every fucking nerve in his body buzzing as he let himself enjoy the way you were squeezing him around him.

He felt like he was on cloud nine when you ran your hands through his curls, your lips against his ear whispering god knows what. But your voice was low and humming and comforting and he could feel his eyes slipping close to enjoy the sound of it. 

He could feel you running your hands over his body, feel the way every inch of skin was pressed against you, feel the way your legs were tightening around him like you didn’t want him to move just yet either. 

After the rush of adrenaline and pleasure, his body felt syrupy. His movements felt slow and unhurried, his thoughts felt like they were floating away. His brain felt fuzzy and pleased and content to just lay on the bed with you, bask in the feeling a little longer before the grossness and desire to clean up took over. 

Luke was more than happy to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, to close his eyes and let out a happy sigh and let himself relax after the really intense last few minutes the two of you had just experienced.

And if Luke was more awake, he would have noticed the way you tensed up the second he spoke. The way your eyes widened, the way your body instantly locked up, the way you went a little pale. 

If Luke was more awake, he would have been able to think twice before he spoke. 

But Luke wasn’t awake. He fell asleep after muttering the one thought that had been on his mind since New Years. 

He closed his eyes and slept like a fucking baby and woke up to an empty bed and an empty apartment and not a single sign of proof of the night before except the marks on his skin and the used condom lying on his bedroom floor. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he had slurred into the crook of your neck, his voice barely louder than a rumble as the sleepiness really hit. 

If Luke was more awake, he would have stopped himself from completely fucking everything up. 

.

[ivyues]

Unlocked Trust: Stray Kids' reactions to the sharing of a phone PIN

Bang Chan

You’re in the kitchen preparing a snack when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Chris, can you check that? My hands are full,” you call out.

“Sure,” he says, walking over.

“The pin’s 0921,” you add casually.

He freezes, eyes widening for a moment before he chuckles. “Wait, did you just give me your PIN without hesitation?”

“Yeah, why?” you reply, glancing at him.

“No reason. Just didn’t think you’d trust me that much,” he teases, smirking as he unlocks the phone.

“Are you seriously doubting my trust now?” you quip, rolling your eyes.

He checks the message, his expression softening as he reads it. “It’s your mom. She says hi. By the way, I’m remembering your PIN as proof of my VIP access.”

Lee Know

“Minho, can you look at my calendar real quick? I think I have an appointment tomorrow, but I can’t remember the time,” you say, restricted by the cat in your arms.

“Where’s your phone?” he asks.

“On the couch. Pin’s 0412.”

He picks it up, muttering, “If this isn’t my birthday, I’d be disappointed.”

“Why would it be your birthday?”

“Because you should’ve honored me with such a privilege,” he deadpans.

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He quickly checks the calendar, then grins at you. “Yeah, 3 PM tomorrow. Oh, and I’m changing your PIN to my birthday now.”

“Excuse me?” you tease, pretending to be offended. “You think I’m just going to hand over my PIN to you like that?”

He raises an eyebrow, locking your phone with a smirk. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Changbin

He’s driving while you’re in the passenger seat, and his phone buzzes.

“Can you reply to that text for me?” he asks.

“Sure, what’s your PIN?”

“0309,” he says casually.

You pause, typing it in. “Isn’t that your mom’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a grin. “She’s the queen of my life. But you’re a close second.”

“Wow,” you say, pretending to be offended. “Second place, huh?”

He laughs, glancing at you. “Fine, you’re tied for first. Happy now?”

You give him a side-eye, smirking. “Tied for first? I’ll take it… for now.”

He chuckles, eyes back on the road. “Don’t worry. You’re first in my heart.”

Hyunjin

You’re folding laundary when you realize your phone is across the room.

“Jinnie, can you put on some music? My phone’s over there.”

“Sure. What’s the password?”

“1010,” you say, not looking up.

“1010? That’s so symmetrical. Why?”

“Because it’s easy to remember,” you reply.

He types it in, then teases, “Guess I should memorize this for emergencies. Or when I need to snoop.”

You laugh. “Snoop all you want. My search history is just memes and dog videos.”

He swipes through your phone, humming along to the music that starts playing. You glance at him, amused by how he seems to have completely settled in. “Just don’t start getting any funny ideas with my PIN.”

However, since that day, you've noticed a significant increase in selfies of your boyfriend filling your camera roll.

Han

He’s lying on the couch, arms wrapped around a giant pillow, while his phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Jisung, your phone’s ringing.”

“Can you answer it for me?” he mumbles sleepily.

“What’s your PIN?”

“4321,” he says, eyes still closed.

You laugh as you unlock it. “Seriously? 4321? That’s your password?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” you tease, “except a toddler could guess it.”

He opens one eye and grins. “But you’re the only one who knows now, so it’s genius.”

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your face. “Genius, huh? I’ll make sure to tell everyone you’re a mastermind.”

He groans, pulling the pillow over his face with a dramatic sigh. “That's how you abuse my trust.”

You laugh, putting his phone back onto the couch. “Your secret’s safe with me. But just so you know, this is going down as one of your most questionable moves.”

Felix

You’re baking cookies, hands sticky with dough, when your phone buzzes on the counter.

“Lix, can you check my phone? I think it’s a text from my sister.”

“Yeah, what’s your code?”

“0420,” you say.

He snorts as he unlocks it. “Isn’t that the date we first met?”

You grin. “Yep. Thought you’d like that.”

He looks at the text, then smiles warmly. “Your sister says hi and asks when we’re baking together again.”

“Tell her whenever she wants,” you say.

He leans in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. “Will do. And by the way, I like how you made our first meeting a memorable one… for both of us.”

Seungmin

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your laptop, when your phone buzzes beside you.

“Seungmin, can you check my phone? I think it’s a notification from work.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0525,” you say casually.

He freezes, then smirks. “That’s not my birthday, is it?”

You laugh. “No, it’s my dog’s birthday.”

“Of course it is,” he mutters, unlocking the phone. “I guess I shouldn’t expect to rank higher than your dog.”

You glance up, teasing. “It’s almost the same thing, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, a little smirk playing at his lips. “Me and your dog? Really?”

“Yeah, well, my dog’s loyal, cute, and always there when I need cuddles,” you reply.

“Okay, okay,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take second place… but I’m keeping my spot as your favorite human.”

You grin. “Tied for first, remember?”

He looks at you, still smiling. “I’ll take it.”

I.N

You’re sitting on the couch, reading a book when your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

“Innie, can you check my phone? I think I got a message from the group chat.”

“Sure. What’s your PIN?”

“0802,” you say absently.

He freezes for a moment, eyes wide, then grins. “Isn’t that my birthday?”

“Yep,” you reply, still focused on your book.

He chuckles, his voice light with excitement. “I can’t believe you gave me your PIN so easily. I guess I’m extra special, huh?”

“You’re the only one who knows it now,” you say teasingly, glancing at him.

He laughs, checking your phone. “It’s from the group chat, asking when we're all hanging out next. And don’t worry, I’ll keep your PIN secret… unless I need to buy something nice for myself.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

masterlist

[stealingyourbones]

Danny, being a halfa, falls under the strange category of people who can converse with the dead and act in their names. Most mediums simply convey messages. It was rare for someone to be able to fulfill a ghost’s dying request and have that act tied to the ghost’s core.

Honestly it’s annoying.

He doesn’t get any alone time anymore for homework or hobbies. The dead are constantly pestering Danny to help with their desires - which, sure, it helps them move on which means they’re out of Danny’s hair, but come on!! Give a guy a break! Just because he doesn’t need as much sleep as a fully living person doesn’t mean he can go without entirely!

“No Scott,” Danny repeated for the fifth time, “I am not flying to California tonight. Do you know how far that is? Literally the other coast of this massive continent. Meet me there in August like everyone else on the list.”

Spending the first spring break of college creating a map and calendar for Last Rites was not something Danny expected when he moved to Gotham.

Why did this city have so many ghosts?! It was ridiculous. And he thought Amity Park was bad? At least the ghosts here were mostly Shades. Not visible to anyone unless they were also dead-adjacent or had The Sight or a bloodline curse or a magical amulet… you know what? There were enough of those in this curse ridden city, why couldn’t these ghosts go find one of those people instead? Danny was exhausted.

So exhausted he didn’t notice the vigilante dropping down from the rooftop.

“Hey there kid, you alri-”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny waved a hand dismissively at the voice without looking up. “Wait in line like everyone else. But honestly you’d be better off coming back tomorrow when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Think maybe you outta get started on that sleep now, bud?” the voice behind him spoke in a calm careful tone.

One Danny had heard all too often since dying.

His head jerked sideways to stare wide-eyed at Nightwing, who tensed just a little as if expecting Danny to run or fight. Instead he let out a groan and slumped onto the park bench, rubbing his eyes to ease the burn of fatigue. He’d been coming out to this park at the corner of campus each night to keep the Shades from mobbing him all day long in classes, but they’d spread the word around Gotham that he was here and his precious spring break had become a non-stop line of requests and arguments. Made sense he’d caught the attention of one of the Bats. Should have expected it sooner.

Danny ignored all the voices around him and looked at Nightwing directly as he prattled off his usual list when someone caught him talking to thin air.

“No, I’m not hallucinating. I got all my Rogue Gallery immunizations the day I checked onto campus. I’m not schizophrenic. The only meds I take are for adhd and the occasional Tylenol. I’m not a danger to myself or others. Unless they attack me first.”

Nightwing nodded along, but tilted his head at the end.

“I’m talking to the dead,” Danny answered the unspoken question in a tired monotone, waiting for the usual skepticism or plea for help with lost loved ones.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“What?” That wasn’t expected.

“No yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny was sure his jaw was on the ground. “You… you believe me?”

“Well sure,” the hero shrugged and chuckled. “I can’t see ghosts myself but I know a couple magicians who work with one, and my little brother Robin has a ghost on his team - she’s actually visible most of the time so I don’t know if that’s a special skill or something else going on. But I’m glad you’re okay and don’t need any emergency medication. I know a couple 24 hour pharmacies that would help but it’s nice when they’re not needed. We don’t get a lot of mediums around Gotham holding court at night so you really can’t fault me for checking in.”

Danny was still floating in the relief of not being questioned or doubted. That hadn’t happened since Jazz found out his secret. She’d had plenty of questions about his halfa status, of course, but never called him crazy for talking to things others couldn’t see. Even Sam and Tucker would forget sometimes and give him strange looks before realizing he was dealing with a Shade, Wisp, or Memory.

He didn’t realize he was wobbling until Nightwing’s arms shot out to stabilize him.

Danny blinked up at the pretty face that was trying not to chuckle, held by strong arms, and so far past tired he might be getting delirious after all because his brain seemed to have lost its filter and he said out loud,

“You actually believe me. I think I love you.”

Then the horrifying embarrassment hit at the same time as Nightwing’s laughter. Which… sounded delighted rather than mean spirited?

“Well now it’s your turn to wait in line, cuz that’s the fourth confession I’ve had this week!” They both devolved into snorts and giggles, Danny still relying on those arms for balance, but when they’d caught their breath the vigilante said, “Come on, you’ve really got to get some sleep. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Ignoring the whispers and grumbles of the Shades was easier with someone walking beside him.

This is so incredibly cute oml. It’s so rare to see the bats actually go with the flow and god it isn’t done enough. 12/10 immaculate, glorious.

The entire plot I can see so clearly in my mind dude:

Danny chatting to Nightwing as they walk to his dorm

Nightwing asking some casual questions about ghosts and Danny asking about vigilante work.

Nightwing informs the Bats of Danny as he might be a valuable asset in the future.

Nightwing helps free shades with Danny and he realizes why Danny is so incredibly tired all the time.

Nightwing managing to stumble into Danny every day of his break, slowly getting to know each other more and more and becoming really good friends (perhaps lovers 👀).

Wonderful stuff man ty for the ask!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chocolate confession ♡

fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !

the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.

the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.

mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—

"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"

katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.

"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.

as she guessed, they came from you. of course.

katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.

this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.

she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.

"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'

the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.

"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if she knew her son well enough she knew that these—

"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.

as she guessed, they're for you.

"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"

katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.

"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.

"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."

and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.

"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.

"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.

"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.

"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.

"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.

"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.

"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.

"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.

"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.

"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.

a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.

and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.

she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.

"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"

"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.

"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.

he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.

and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.

"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.

"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."

after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.

the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn

tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((

[parfaitblogs]

'tis the damn season ❀ s. reid x reader

in which christmas is the season to crawl back into your ex's life, and you accidentally do so one drunken night. 

pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: flangst tags: still in love exes. alcohol consumption. (sleepy) drunk reader. spencer reid's fear of dementia. word count: 1.3k a/n: obligatory do not contact your exes this holiday season. just fantasise about doing it to spencer reid. it’s opening night for my play so!! here is this while i go off to do that!!! :D

❄︎ advent calendar masterlist

Fourteen missed calls.

Spencer Reid had fourteen missed calls, from a number he did not have saved, but could recognise despite the months that have passed and the seasons that have changed. 

Why did he have fourteen missed calls?

Christmas was always an awful time for him. The striking reminder that he was alone in a big city, for his mother does not remember him this year, his father does not exist in his life, and his friends have families of their own. 

And then there was you. Oh God, there was you. 

He thinks even when he grows old and his brain begins to delete files from his expansive memory, you will stick around forever. He thinks he is physically incapable of forgetting you, even if he tried. Sickeningly so. 

Shaking hands answer the sixteenth call before it can ring through, having watched the fifteenth come and go. He was met with a lot of silence, and he had to question if he even had picked up the call. 

But yes, you were there. Quietly. Breathing into the phone, perhaps surprised by the fact that he had actually answered. Or maybe this wasn't you. Maybe you had changed your number, or gotten your phone stolen, or—

"Spencer?"

If anything were to pierce the silence in his apartment, it might be the shattering of his heart as he listens to you speak his name for the first time in thirteen months. Your voice was so familiar, yet so different, too. You had thirteen months of growth, and yet you sound the same as you had the day he first met you.

"Hey," he finally breathes out, and he hears you shakily exhale. 

"Can you open your door? S'really cold out here."

He freezes. The causality in your tone tells him there's something else motivating your random reappearance in his life, followed closely by the faintest hint of a slur in your words. 

Oh.

He heads to his door, and sure enough, on the other side of it, stands you, in something borderline ridiculous for the December weather. No wonder you were freezing. 

"What're you—why're you—come in—it's freezing," he stammers out, eventually deciding on stepping to the side to let you into his warmer apartment, the visible relaxation of your shoulders providing some comfort to him in light of your state. 

"Your hair," you say, eyes wide as he coaxes you inside and to his kitchen countertop. His fingertips probably burn holes through the fabric of your dress as he guides you. 

"My hair," he replies, and though it isn't posed as a question, he is confused. 

"It's longer," you clarify for him. "I like it."

He provides a weak smile. "Thank you. Are you cold?"

"Not anymore," you shake your head, finding a seat at his island, folding yourself in half over the edge of it, resting your head on the marble. "Your apartment's warm."

He nods his head, walking around to the other side of it, using his hands to lift your head back up. "Don't fall asleep."

"'m not," you mumble in response, though your head growing heavier and lolling into his left palm claimed otherwise. 

"Liar," he muses, and you huff, quietly, but force your eyes open regardless. He ignores the heavy feeling in his chest when the two of you lock eyes. "There she is. Why're you here?"

"I dunno, actually," you say, and his heart sinks. "My friends put me in a taxi an hour ago. Or two hours. I don't really remember," he presumes one hour — you were still so drunk. "And I asked him to drive me around. He said okay, but he needed a final destination too. I guess I gave him your address."

"Why?"

"Habit, maybe," you murmur.

"It's habit to take a taxi back to my apartment?" 

You shrug your shoulders. "'Cause I used to. Back when..."

We were still together, hangs off the end of your sentence. 

"Christmas party?" he then asks you, and your head nods against his palm. 

"For work," you end the word with a yawn. "I wanted to Merry Christmas my way back into your life, I guess."

He knew it was your lowered inhibitions spilling these details out to him, and he should pretend you aren't saying things like this for your own benefit. But he also couldn't stop the visceral reaction he has towards your admission of wanting to reenter his life. 

"You shouldn't," he replies. 

You pause, searching his face all too intently. "D'you not want me to?"

It's a loaded question, and he knows the response he wants to say is vastly different to the response he should say. But you're staring at him, albeit inebriated, and he has nothing left to do but curse his impeccable memory for reminding him of everything he hasn't had for thirteen months. He misses you. 

"I don't want you to do something you regret," he settles on saying. 

"Well, 'm already here," you mumble, and his hands soften on your cheeks, before he slips them away. 

"Yes. You are," he nods, standing up straighter. "Do you have a way home?"

"Um, Uber, I guess."

"It's too late and you're too drunk for an Uber alone," he disapproves. 

"I took a Taxi here alone—"

"—I'm not letting you go home — alone —from my apartment in your state," he counters immediately. "I don't really care how you got here."

You relent quite easily though, murmuring a quiet, "Okay," that shocks him. 

"Do you want to shower?"

You nod, your feet slipping from the stool and landing on the floor. He's moving back around to you to help the second he watches your hands brace on the edge of the countertop, an arm looping around your waist that makes your stomach swim. 

"I can walk, y'know."

"Uh-huh," he doesn't believe you fully, and you don't have it in you to fight with him as he leads you to an all too familiar bathroom. As he sits you down on his toilet lid, he says, "Stay there. I'll get you some clothes."

"Yes, Doc."

His cheeks puff as he expels a sigh at the nickname, shaking his head as he disappears back into his bedroom. 

By the time he's returned, your eyes are fluttered shut, your head sitting probably uncomfortably against the wall next to his toilet. But your chest is moving evenly enough for him to conclude that you had fallen asleep that quickly, and he didn't have the heart to wake you back up. He'll take your frustration in the morning.

You barely stir as he carries you into his room again. Instead, he swears you curl further into his bedsheets the second he places you down on his mattress. 

"Spence?"

He's barely two footsteps towards his door when you speak again, and his heart shatters. He turns over his shoulder, and though you're speaking, your eyes are barely cracked open. 

"Where're you goin'?"

"The couch," he says, confused by the frown that tugs your lips down. "What?"

"Come back. This is your bed."

"It is," he nods. "But you're in it."

"'m not gonna bite," you say, your hands weakly stretching out towards him.

He takes a few beats to determine whether or not he'd take up your offer. But he is too weak of a man to not give in, and he doesn't know if he'll ever get you in his bed again. So, he sighs, and begrudgingly climbs back into his bed next to you.

"Hey," he turns his head, a question dancing on his tongue. But when he finds you again, you're fast asleep once more. Habitually, as if it hadn't been thirteen months, he brushes the hair that had fallen out of your face, and he smiles.

And, to no one in particular, he murmurs, "I'm glad you Merry Christmas'd your way back into my life."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[tojisteddy]

Dinner for two | cw: fluff, age gap (reader mid 20s, John late 30s), john price x shy!reader.

“Dinner? Together? Where?”

John Price, who made it his mission to spend as much time as possible with shy!reader outside of work. So the past month (that’s actually was been three because John’s been away), every Friday or Saturday, John takes you out on a date. Or you, him. Which ever one is the most comfortable.

Now spending money on you wasn’t something John had a problem with, but he’d needed an excuse to see you in your best form— your home.

“I can cook, but I’m still doing some renovations, I’m not sure if it’ll be done before Saturday” he sighed, lying through his teeth. There were no renovations being done, he just wanted to be at your place. He’d known just from the way kept your desk, full of little trinkets, do-hickies, pastel highlighters, a pretty lavender calendar adored with stickers, that damned large and in charge yellow Stanley cup with a few fluffy key chains— your house would be a sight to see.

And no, not in a teasing way.

In an adorable, loving, you’re the cutest thing imaginable kind of way.

“I-well- m-my place is closer to the base, so we can have it at my mine.” You rushed out but immediately regretted it. Face palming internally. Why the hell would you suggest that?

“Perfect,” he hummed in satisfaction, good girl, “It’ll be like a potluck.”

A potluck, right. A potluck. That did those words even mean when John he gave you the sweetest, breathtaking kiss on the cheek. He saw the way your mind kinda went to the cloud once he pulled away.

“I’ll see you later, be good.” With that, he left your office, your eyes stuck on his broad shoulders.

“Yeah.” You could’ve rolled in a sea of flowers, your heart was leaping, cheeks heated up, you prayed he didn’t notice.

You were whipped like a nice, homemade buttercream and John would dip his pinky in it, had you wrapped around him so easily. You hadn’t even processed that John, a man that was not family or a friend, was coming over.

Alright, who did it? Whose fucking grand idea was it to invite John over?

Well yours, but you needed to place blame on someone else. Your heart was in your ass, you’d gone through at least a dozen websites trying to find the perfect meal to cook. Pinterest board full of hairstyles youd try, how many outfits had you laid out on your bedroom floor just for night?

You needed something that said, ‘welcome to my mtv crib, small one bedroom addition’ and ‘oh my god John, youre hot, make out with me’ but also ‘I’m not inviting you do the nasty’ and ‘oh my god dont take this the wrong way, because I want to just not right now.’

It must’ve been a night for settling, you’d wanted to make pasta but the idea of getting pasta sauce terrified you during this at home date while with the off white, off the shoulder blouse you wore. Steak and Potatoes and a side of green beans never hurt. Another thing you settled for? Your hair. Booking an appointment was out of the question, you did it yourself. Front in flat twists and the back out and curly. Did the curls come out right over night?

It was acceptable.

You’d started dinner early, 5 hours early to be exact, first the home made mashed potatoes, then a break to make a pound cake with a lemon glaze, then the greens beans while putting together the small charcuterie as an appetizer, then finally the steak— medium rare. You’d leave it in the oven to keep warm.

Were you ready 30 minutes before John got to your flat? You were shaking, continuously peeking out the window and then going back to rearrange your couches yellow throw pillows, then back to the window. And when you didn’t see the tall, large man, you’d fly to your bedroom, fixing your blouse in the mirror, the gold necklaces around your neck, large dandelion earrings, and dark blue mom jeans, light make up— you were pretty.

And John would call you that, hand you the bottle of wine, you let him inside, say one of those sly pickup lines you’d read in the romance books you hid under your bed, and he’d fall for you, fall in even more with your etiquette skills, maybe have a dance, stare into each others eyes. You’d make out and fire works would go off like in the movies— you flopped down on your bed giggling.

Ugh, didn’t that sound just perfec— ding dong.

The door bell. You gasped, cursing up a storm while you refixed your hair and quickly making it to your front door. You flattened your jeans again, fixed your charm bracelet, and opened the door. There he was, the man of the hour, John Price. He looked the exact opposite of how he did at work, comfortable, in a green button up with his sleeves rolled to his elbows showing off his hairy arms, dark jeans, boots, a watch on his wrist, beard freshly trimmed— simple. But he looked so good. Delectable.

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out— okay, [+], now’s the time to say something. You blinked a couple times.

“You look hot.”

Not that! Reader, what the fuck?

The ends of John lips curve up, a hardy chuckles coming from his belly, “Thank you baby,” baby? “You look hot too. Or beautiful, I should say.”

Baby? Beautiful? Your heart was going to come out of your chest. Even better than him calling you just pretty. What was pretty anyway when John called you beautiful and baby—

John rocked on his bottom heels, peering down at you, “[+], you there?” Your eyes snapped open from the daze you were in, slapping your forehead.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I-It was too much.”

And John’s smile gets wider, “No doll, it’s fine. Just-“ John can’t really find the words for it, trying not to laugh anymore than he’s already done, he nods past you as you clutch onto the door waiting for him to finish his sentence. Reader, Are you gonna let him in or what?

“Oooooh! Right! Come in, come in!” You stepped aside, letting him in the door way that has your mother’s anointed cross over it. Praying to God you didn’t make even more of a fool of yourself tonight.

John takes in the space, which is the definition of cozy. Nice throws and pillows on your couch (that you’d rearranged three times for tonight) candles lit around the dim apartment to boost atmosphere, a few stuffed animals laying around. Your little make shift dining room was professionally set with flowers, napkins, silverware, a few vases of roses and candles. Cute pictures of you, your friends and family on a collage wall above the couch that was against the living room wall— pictures John wants to be apart of— and jazz playing from the radio— specifically I Miss You So by Nat King Cole.

You lock the door behind you, take another deep breath, and swivel around on your heals, “Would you like to sit on the couch? O-or we can sit at the table?”

John smiled, lifting his hands and you giggles a nervous one, “Shit right, the wine and the bread. We can have it with the charcuterie.” You take both items in your hands moving towards the kitchen.

His blue eyes dance as he follows you to the kitchen, past the dining area, “A charcuterie board? You shouldn’t have!”

Shouldn’t have as in you shouldn’t have? Or should’ve have as in, ‘eat, pray, love!’? You snuck a glance and there he was, leaning against your fridge as you set the bread down on the counter, ends of his eyes crinkling. Damn, you could’ve moaned right then and there.

“It’s no problem, I thought you’d want to eat something with the bread.” You let out a nervous laugh, cutting into the roll that John’s made and placing a few pieces on the board “It’s perfect! You made this John?”

“Course I have! Told you it a potluck didn’t I?”

“No, no, just a little shocked is all. You like baking and cooking then?”

“Well, cooking I can hold my own. Baking, I think I’m just good at making bread since my mum taught me. I couldn’t go a meal without it so she made me make my own.”

You hum, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Your eyes met John and you immediately looked down, placing the bread you hadn’t cut into a spare bread bag. Caught you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, almost burning off from how hot they felt. John was watching you as you made your way around the kitchen, you needed to regroup.

“Uh- l-let’s sit in the living room and eat!” You dodged John, gently placing the board on the coffee table.

You sit on the couch, princess style, re-adjusting your blouse and smoothing out your pants, big brown eyes following him as he took a seat next to you. There’s a few moments of silence, you trying to find something to say and avoiding Johns leisure  gaze. His eyes are smiling and he thinks you look incredibly adorable while your mind works overtime.

“There somethin you wanna talk about?” You squeaked out, fidgeting with your manicured yellow nails. John sighs, his larger hand finding one of yours and slowly intertwining them together with a gentle squeeze. It’s okay, it says.

“You can relax, you know? It’s just me.” He gives you a small smile.

Yeah, that’s the problem. John Price who was perfection walking, despite his age, a fucking heart throb. You knew for a fact he must’ve been fucking trouble when he was younger and he’s definitely a much larger one now. You couldn’t keep up. Shit, mean, when could you ever? This was your first time having a man that was a love interest, over your house. But to get a snog, you needed to calm down. Let things happen because nothing you’d planned out before was happening.

“I’ll t-try.”

The night was filled with laughter, from the way Price groaned, he enjoyed his meal while you could only eat about half of it. You were still nervous but John had loosened you up, telling you old stories about his life and you telling a few of your own, talking about your hobbies, learning about John’s massive interest in watching cute cat videos— another extremely green flag. The wine helped even more, you were a bit of a light weight so you nursed the one. John followed your pace, letting you get comfortable with him slowly itching closer and closer into your space.

It was 10:00pm now, a few candles burnt out, two saucers of crumbs on the coffee table, ‘caught up in the rapture’ by anita baker playing, and you were talking John’s head off. Not because your were drunk, because you were truly comfortable. Comfortable with your legs over Johns lap while you babbled on about country living whilst John rubbed your hand in his with his thumb. You were gorgeous, the light from the candle flickered to you, showing off your pretty brown eyes.

“Oh god no, I don’t think I could do the whole farm thing. But I’d like to go, with you. If I could.” You think, gently placing your empty glass on the table.

“Your already planning our next date? Haven’t even asked you yet?” Price teases.

“Not our next date,” you pause, “…Maybe the one after.” You grin, both of you giggling. Faces seemingly closer than before, your eyes widen, cheeks flushed, you mumble a, ‘sorry.’ And John’s lost looking at you, ‘what’s there to be sorry for?’

And then it happens, what we’ve allll been waiting for.

John’s pink lips on yours, gentle, beard pricking your own skin. You can taste the vanilla from the pound cake on his lips. He pulls you closer, large hand up and down your back, adding goosebumps down your skin. And you’re trying your best to follow what he’s doing because he’s fuckin good kisser. You can tell. Your hand meets his chest, you want to mold your lips with his. You can hear them, the fireworks going off, or was that your heart?

He pulls away, slowly, putting your foreheads together and humming. Your lashes flutter open, meeting Prices soft eyes.

“Nice, right?”

Your voices is so soft, like you’ve just woken from a dream— “Perfect.”

But it’s not. This is real. And you and John both love that.

a/n: Another, thank you for 2k post!!! Thank you babies🥺🥺💓💓!! And thank you for the love on the last shy!reader post! I have so much fun writing for it. Lmk what you think!! You know how bad it is when the writer is giggling and kicking their feet?

last post masterlist more shy!reader

[senipsenipsenip]

Dipper sighed as he felt another pen crack between his molars. Great, Mabel was definitely going to make fun of him for the ink stains on his mouth when she got home. He could hear it now, Wow Dipper, I knew you were a nerd, but I didn't know if I left you alone you'd start kissing your homework.

Dipper sighed and threw the pen into the trash with the other three he'd already snapped. It wasn't fair - he spent the whole summer fighting monsters and saving the world, why did he have to learn the stupid Great Depression's effect on American Literature or whatever. He glanced at the calendar. Only a little over a month until winter break. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford had promised to try and make it back to Gravity Falls so they could host the twins for the holidays. Sure, they had only been on the open ocean for a couple of months, but the two of them decided it would probably be best to start with a shorter trip then build up from there. After all, despite their age, they were still rookies. Besides, there was nothing on the sea that would help jog Stan's memory other than Great Uncle Ford's questioning. Being on home soil would hopefully bring back some more of Stan's forgotten past.

Dipper's phone pinged. He frowned. That shouldn't happen. He had his phone on Do Not Disturb so he could finish studying. The only alerts that would still pass through were texts from Mabel, Grunkle Stan, or Great Uncle Ford. Mabel never texted when she was out with her friends, and it's not like there was a lot of cell reception out at sea. Curiosity peaked, Dipper unlocked his phone.

It was Stan. More specifically, Stan's boots on the deck of the boat. It was a video, and before Dipper could press play, three little dots appeared indicating Stan was typing. Dipper sat back and waited. It usually took Grunkle Stan awhile to type out his messages. He always blamed the too small phone screen, saying it wasn't designed for fat fingers and cataracts.

What does this mean?

Dipper frowned at the message. Was he asking Dipper to decode a message? Why wouldn't he just ask Great Uncle Ford? Unless...oh gosh was Great Uncle Ford in danger? Did they need help? Why wouldn't he call? Dipper turned his volume up as high as he could, pressing play with a sweaty thumb.

The video started on Stan's boots, but quickly shifted as Stan started pointing his phone at something on the...oh. The wooden planks Dipper had seen Stan standing on weren't the planks of the boat deck, they were floorboards for an outdoor patio. A patio that was full of people speaking...some sort of language. Something Nordic maybe. Geez, weren't they freezing? Maybe not because...Nordic.

The camera was pointed at the door separating the bar from the patio, specifically, the top right corner where a set of speakers had been hung. Oh, Dipper realized. He's trying to record the music. Dipper held the phone to his ear. Maybe Stan was trying to figure out a secret code in the lyrics? He was pretty sure he had told Stan all about that day when they saved Wendy from Robbie's horrible music. This sounded a lot different than Robbie's music though. It was way more upbeat and -

...comin' through, that girl is youuuu...

"Oh my God," Dipper groaned, letting his head fall to his desk. Of course. Of course that's what would be playing. Of course a Nordic bar would be blasting Icelandic Pop Sensation BABBA.

Now Stan's message made sense. He had heard the song and felt "The Itching". That's what Stan had taken to calling it when he could feel himself starting to remember something, but needed a little extra help making it make sense. Stan said it was because it felt like an itching in the back of his brain. Dipper was pretty sure he called it that because if he announced he had "an itch that needs scratching" it was always a fifty-fifty toss up as to whether he needed help with a memory or literally wanted someone to help him scratch himself. Sometimes it was both. Either away, Stan got a kick out of how many times he could trick Ford.

Dipper grimaced. Maybe he could get out of this one. After all, Stan doesn't need all of his memories...right? He could forget some of the more embarrassing ones.

It's a song by BABBA. He typed. It's called "Disco Girl." There. The fact Stan's going to know that Dipper can identify the song is embarrassing enough, he doesn't need to remember The Incident.

The three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Oh. OK.

Dipper sat his phone down. There. That was that. He didn't need to feel guilty about how Stan somehow managed to sound disappointed with two words. Besides, he had homework to do. He was a busy guy. Yep, not gonna think about it.

His phone pinged.

Made me think of you.

Okay. Starting to feel guilty now. Dipper sighed. Even over text message, he could hear the tone of voice Stan would say it in. That tone where he would say something like it was just a careless aside so that you wouldn't think he was taking something seriously, so then you wouldn't take it seriously, so that he could tell himself you didn't take it seriously because you thought he wasn't taking it seriously and not because you don't take him seriously or care about him seriously or -

Dipper frowned. Maybe these English classes were doing something after all. Apparently all of that fictional character analysis made him better at analyzing his uncle.

He could picture Stan now, having already sat his phone face-down on the table, wondering why there was some memory of Dipper that Dipper didn't want to share with him. Oh man, he probably thinks Dipper's tired of helping out with his memories or something.

That's because you heard me sing it once. Dipper wrote. That should be enough to jog Stan's memory a bit.

The three dots. Heard or saw?

Dipper groaned. Maybe Stan was just messing with him. He probably remembered the whole thing and was just trying to get Dipper to regale him with the story again so he could laugh at him.

Whatever. Dipper would be the bigger man.

Both. You walked in on me after I got out of the shower. You really need to learn how to knock, man.

There. That should be enough. Hopefully Stan and Ford will get back on the boat and see a giant Kraken or something equally as awesome so Stan forgets all about this conversation.

He exited out of their message thread and opened up his thread with Great Uncle Ford. Whatever "clever" joke Stan wanted to make at his expense would probably take forever to write. Might as well take advantage of the good cell service while he knows they have it.

Hey! Are you with Grunkle Stan?

Three bubbled appeared. Dipper didn't have to wait long. Ford was a surprisingly quick texter.

Yes, we're exploring the town together. I take it you're the one he's been texting?

Yeah. He had an itch. Nothing crazy, just a song he heard this summer he couldn't remember the name of. Okay, he probably could have told Ford. Especially after learning about the whole Kiss-Bot incident, Dipper's BABBA incident definitely didn't come close. But c'mon, wasn't Dipper allowed to have at least one family member who thought he had a shred of dignity left?

He smiled. Probably not. After all, he was a Pines.

Ah, that explains his behavior then.

Dipper frowned. Behavior? Is he okay?

Oh yes, of course. My apologies if my language was alarming, Stanley says I tend to word things "dramatically". He's simply trying to ask the table next to us if there are any music stores nearby. I didn't realize children still used physical CDs.

Wait. Stan is looking for a music store? Why specifically mention children? Dipper typed slowly, wording his questions as discretely as he could.

Oh? Is Stan looking for a CD?

The bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Dipper frowned. They reappeared.

Disregard my earlier message.

Oh they were definitely up to something. Two could play at that game. You don't live with a professional con man all summer and not learn how to get what you want out of someone.

Okay. Hey, Grunkle Stan showed me a bit of the patio. Can you send a video too? Would be interested in seeing where you are.

Of course. One moment, please.

Dipper sat his phone on his desk while he waited. Realistically, he should be working on his homework while he waits. It's not like he'll be able to focus on anything when Mabel gets home. But, it's not like he can focus on anything now, mind buzzing as much as it is.

After three minutes and fifty-three seconds, Dipper's phone pinged. He grinned and pressed play.

The video started pointing toward the other side of the patio. Made sense, Ford was probably sitting across from Stan at their table. Stan was nowhere to be seen though. He must have stood up to speak to the table next to him. Dipper could see townsfolk sat at their tables in heavy winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves. Everyone was wrapped up in their own conversations, and while Ford panned slowly across the porch, Dipper recognized another BABBA song playing faintly in the background. The owner must have had a playlist going. There were fairy lights strung up across the porch, street lamps helping illuminate the night. Wherever they were must have been in the middle of some small town, probably no bigger than Gravity Falls.

"Ford!" Grunkle Stan's voice rang out. Dipper quickly held the phone up to his ear again. There was a loud metallic grating sound - probably Grunkle Stan pulling out his chair to sit down again.

"You're never gonna believe it!" Stan sounded excited about something.

"A moment, please, Stan," Ford murmured.

"We don't have to go to the music store! Those people didn't speak English but the guy who runs this place does a little. That internet translator did the rest."

"Google, Stanley."

"Whatever. Anyway, he said he'd sell me the CD he's playing right now when he closes up for the night."

"That's great Stan. Hold on a moment I'm just trying to film this for -"

"Dipper's gonna love this! I think. It's sort of coming back to me. I think that memory he helped me with, I think..."

Stan trailed off. Dipper pulled the phone away from his ear to see if the video had ended, but Ford was still dutifully scanning their surroundings with the camera. It looked like Ford had stood up, holding the phone high above his head to show Dipper the coastline beyond the porch railings.

"I think I told him I was proud of him that day." Stan's confession was quiet. But Stan quiet. Which meant loud enough to be picked up on Ford's camera.

Ford's movement stopped. "You did? Why?"

"Well. I sorta did. I think. He was tryna prove he was 'a man' or whatever, so I told him he was. He stood up for what was right even though no one else agreed with him. And then I think I uh...ripped my shirt off and showed him my chest hair. Maybe I should get him to fill in some of those blanks there."

Ford laughed. "I don't remember it taking much to get you to take your shirt off."

"I'm a gross, old man now, Ford. We'd all prefer if it stayed on."

Ford hummed. "So how much is the CD?"

"Eh, he wants like 500 Kroner."

"Seems overpriced."

"Well it's gonna be free."

Ford sighed. "Stanley..."

"What?" Stan cried indignantly. "He's obviously tryna scam me anyway! Besides, it's worth it. Dipper will love it! It's a CD of a band he likes from Iceland stolen from Iceland. Trust me it'll be worth the -"

All sound stopped. The video had ended. Dipper sat at his desk, a small smile on his face. He had been so worried about Stan remembering one of his more embarrassing moments but...Stan remembered it as a day that Dipper made him proud. Huh.

He exited the video and saw that Ford had sent him another message only a minute after sending the video.

Please disregard that video. Terrible audio quality, I have to retake it.

As Dipper began to type a reply, he saw three bubbles appear. He waited.

I'm going to infer that the delay in your response is because you didn't see my message in time and already viewed the video. My apologies, I forget how strong the audio quality of phone cameras are.

Three more bubbles.

Please act surprised.

Ah well. Dipper had omitted the truth a couple of times tonight. What was one more? He started to type.

Sorry, I was working on my homework while I waited for an answer. Guess I got distracted. Should I not watch the video?

Three bubbles. Ah, I see. Yes, that would be for the best. I'll take another video for you now. In the meantime, keep up the good work!

Dipper sat his phone back down on the table and picked up another pen. Might as well do a little more homework so he wasn't totally lying. But first...

He opened his message thread with Stan.

Need help with anything else?

Nope. Go to bed.

Dipper laughed. There it was. The curmudgeon was back, trying to hide the fact he was a big softie underneath.

It's earlier here you know. If anyone should be in bed, it should be you.

I'm old. I do what I want.

Okay old man. Love you!

Sap.

Dipper snorted and sat down his phone. A moment later, it pinged again. He glanced at the screen and saw it was another message from Stan. It was only two words, but they knocked together like flint and steel, lighting something warm in Dipper's chest.

You too.

AN: A continuation of this! I kind of just want to write a bunch of one shots going with this. Some ideas are brewing!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in sickness and in health

words: 1k

warnings: doctors office, physical appointment, needle warning!, fear of needles/medical stuff, established relationship, husband!rafe, soft!rafe pregnancy cw

“you ready to go?” rafe asks, swinging his car keys around his finger.

“uh, yeah…” you look down to your own hand, keys clenched in your first.

“you wanna drive?” rafe asks, frowning. you never drive your own car when he's available.

“um… i just figured you wouldn't wanna go.” you shrug. “its just a physical.”

“it's still the doctors, and the doctors make you nervous.” 

rafe isn't wrong, you're not a fan of anything medical, but it's just your family doctors office, not the hospital or anything too scary.

“don't you have golf with top?” you scheduled your appointment for the same time he usually meets up with topper at the country club, thinking it would be a good time to pop in real quick.

“i canceled when you put your appointment on the calendar. do you not want me to come?” rafe frowns.

“no, i do! i just figured-” you shrug. “i don't know, you wouldn't want to.”

“what did our vows say baby?” rafe asks.

“huh?” 

“in sickness and in health. im coming.” rafe takes the car keys out of your hand, tossing them back into the bowl on your entrance table. “and im driving, of course.”

--

“thanks for coming with me rafey.” you squeeze his hand, eyes on the clock as the minutes tick by. you arrived early for your appointment, only to be told the doctor was running behind. “even though im not really sick.” you giggle at how seriously he takes his vows.

“i would never expect you to go alone, honey.” rafe simply says. “now, do you want me to go in the room with you or should i wait out here? i don't mind either way.”

“um… actually can you come in with me?” you ask shyly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “i need to get my flu shot and you know how much i hate needles.”

“shit, a shot?” rafe leans forward to pick his water bottle up off the table, thrusting it into your hands. “here, hydrate. don't want you passing out.”

“thanks.” you take a sip of the water. rafe came with you once long before you were married to get blood drawn, and you think you traumatized him by passing out right after the needle left your arm.

“do you want me to get a snack from the vending machine, love?” rafe questions, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“no, but do you think we could go out to lunch after?” you pout out your bottom lip, although there really is no reason to as rafe quickly agrees.

--

“and you're alright with your husband being in here?” the doctor asks.

you nod enthusiastically. “yup! i asked him, since im gonna be getting the flu shot.”

your doctor nods, remembering from last year how much you hated the needle. “alright, i will just have you sit in here mr. cameron for a moment while we get a urine sample.”

you feel extra thankful for accepting the water from rafe in the waiting room as you're easily able to fill up the sample cup before placing it in the cupboard.

“alright, the labs will get to work on it right away.” your doctor nods. “will probably be done by the end of your appointment, if not soon after.” 

“awesome.” you nod, heading back into the exam room, smiling when you realize rafe was patiently waiting for you to return.

the doctor goes through your normal exam, asking you questions and checking your vitals, making notes to add to the system later.

“alright, it all looks good. why don't you hop up on the table and we can do your flu shot?”

“okay.” you swallow heavily, looking to rafe who stands with you, gripping your hand and allowing you to press your face into his chest.

“don't tell me when.” you say, muffled by rafes shirt. “just do it.”

you feel the poke and stiffen out, letting out a small sound that hurts rafes chest to hear, holding you tighter as the doctor withdrawals the needle and covers your arm with a bandage.

“all done! you did great. just lay down.” 

you lay back on the bed, eyes closing as you breath, thankfully not feeling the urge to pass out.

“im going to have a nurse bring you in some crackers and apple juice while i get your results back from the urine test.”

“thank you.” you manage to mumble as your doctor leaves.

you blink your eyes open to look up at rafe. “that sucked, but thanks for being here.” you smile, rafe bending down to press a quick kiss to your lips as the nurse comes in.

“i got ‘em.” rafe holds the two cups, allowing you to pick out a cracker and eat it before realizing how dry your mouth is. you manage to sit up, head still slightly dizzy, to take a sip of juice, the sugary drink instantly making you feel better.

you keep snacking until your doctor returns, a stack of papers in her hands.

“feeling good?” she questions, to which you quickly nod.

“yes, thank you.”

“so, just to quickly go over your results…” she frowns when she looks at the paper. 

“what's wrong?” rafe asks.

“i need to ask you to step out of the room, mr. cameron.” she says.

“no!” you squeal, before quickly composing yourself. “no, i want him here. especially if something is wrong.”

“your results look good except for an elevated hormone called hcg. it's a sign of pregnancy.”

“im… im pregnant?”

“yes. the results indicate more than three weeks pregnant.”

you look up to rafe, watching him process the information as tears well in his eyes. he finally looks down at you as tears fall.

“baby… we are gonna be parents.”

you let out a sob, not even realizing that you were already crying as well as rafe pulls you into a tight hug.

“ill give you guys a moment.” the doctor quickly steps out of the room.

“oh my god.” you press your hands against your stomach. “oh my god!”

“im… im so happy.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss against your lips.

“oh rafe, you're gonna be the best daddy ever.” you cup his cheek, pulling him back in for a more intense kiss.

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[heartmix]

I Love It - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x driver!reader

Word Count: 900+

Warning: named your pet dog, bear. Tempted to name the dog after my dog.

Twelve Fics of Christmas - Secret Santa

A/N: zhou FINALLY got a good gift this year!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

It was time for the annual paddock Secret Santa the F1 social team did with all the drivers. Honestly, you loved it. For the past few years, you got people you know pretty well so it was always easy to get gifts. You were one of the drivers who opted for meaningful and useful gifts instead of the silly ones, Zhou has gotten one too many Valtteri Bottas calendars. 

This year you pulled Max. Despite being so close, with you getting him a gift for Christmas every year anyway, you never pulled his name. You went back and forth if you should finally do a silly gift and save his real present for Christmas day. Your heart wouldn't allow you to do that and opted for both gifts to be sentimental. 

Max on the other hand pulled your name and to say he was freaking out was an understatement. He was also one to get you a present every year. It was always simple with a new purse or perfume, but he knew he couldn't pull that off for this silly video. He wanted to make this one special. 

As the weeks crept up you thought of the perfect gift, a neon sign with his cats' names on it so he could set it up by his streaming set-up. Sassy's name was red while Jimmy's name was blue, red bull colors of course. It was perfect and you happily handed it to the social media manager to give to him, excited to see his reaction when the video came out. 

Max was still freaking out. They would be exchanging gifts next week and he was still empty-handed. He was never good at gift-giving, opting for universally agreed upon "good presents." He needed to bring in reinforcement which was in the form of Daniel.

"What am I supposed to get her?!"

"I don't know why you are so stressed about this." That was a lie. Danny knew why he was stressed, he just wanted to see if Max wouldn't admit his crush. 

"I want to actually give a good gift, not just some expensive thing."

"Because you like her!" Daniel said with the goofiest smile on his face. He knew his best buddy had been crushing on you for years, but this was the first time he was freaking out about something so trivial. It was just an annual video the F1 media team did. He could get you a mug and you would love it.

"Daniel don't start." He couldn't help the sigh that came out. If he liked you or not he still wanted to get a decent gift. Maybe he was stressing too much, but he couldn't help it. 

"Okay okay. What does she like?"

"Music, sports, movies, animal-" As Max went on Daniel couldn't help but roll his eyes. Maybe that wasn't the right question to ask. He should've known to be more specific or the Dutchman would talk his ears off about you for hours. 

"I'm going to stop you right there. Let me ask again. What does she love most in this world."

"Her dog," Max said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Okay get her something relating to her dog." 

A huge grin slowly made its way onto Max's face, "I got it! thanks, Daniel!" Before Daniel could respond the facetime call ended.

When it was Max's turn to hand in his present he couldn't help but do it with a smile. Since he was stressing so much he didn't have much time to get it ready, but nothing a little money to rush the order couldn't help. Just like you, he can't wait for the reaction to be posted. 

"Okay, here you go." the media personnel said handing you the gift as the camera was rolling. 

"I can't wait." You excitedly said tearing open the wrapping paper.

As you tore open the gift you couldn't help the smile that broke out on your face, as you slapped a hand over your mouth in shock. "oh my god!"

"What is it?"

"It's a painting of my dog, bear! He's sitting in my car!" You happily flipped the painting to show the camera. "Max pulled my name?" You asked which shocked the people behind the camera at how fast you guessed.

"How did you know?"

"I just know." You said with the biggest smile running your hands all over the picture. "Did you give him his gift yet?"

"Yeah, we did him before you."

"I need to go find him." You rushed out before they needed anything else from you.

"Max!" You called out his name. Before he could process who called him you tackled him in a hug almost making him trip. 

"Woah, what's all of this for." He chuckled wrapping his arm around you to brace the both of you.

Slowly you pulled away from him holding the painting up with glee, "I love my gift, it's the best thing I ever got."

At this, he couldn't help but smile as he could feel heat rush right to his cheeks. You loved the gift. He swears your smile was bigger over the gift than your first win. Or maybe he was tricking himself into thinking that. Either way, you loved your gift and that's the reaction he was hoping for. 

"Looks like you're not the only good gift giver on the grid." He nudged your shoulder earning a giggle.

"How did you even think to get this?" 

Now it was your turn for your cheeks to heat up. "Well some of the best gifts I ever got are based around my cats so I took a page out of your book." 

"Well I love it, thank you." Again you pulled him into a hug not knowing what else to say besides thank you. If Secret Santa earned him this type of hug, he hoped to pull your name every year.  

"Anytime Schatje."

[honeytonedhottie]

getting it together⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🗒️

there are so many aspects in getting it together, and even the phrase "get it together" its super vague and not rly encapsulating of anything in particular so i hope this post helps give u a place to start when u feel like u need to get it together…💬🎀

REMEMBER ;

when u feel the need to get it together, ask urself questions. why do i feel the need to get it together? am i doing too much am i doing too little etc etc. that way u can better navigate and pinpoint the aspect in which u have to get it together.

DIET AND PHYSICAL ACTIVITY ;

♡ am i eating enough nutritious foods? - start incorporating fresh fruits and veggies and foods that nourish u into ur daily diet

♡ am i eating enough everyday? - meal prep so that u can be sure that ur eating enough food every day cuz ur body needs sustenance

♡ am i eating too much everyday? - if u catch urself binge eating and indulging in eating an unhealthy amount everyday, lay back on snacking and stick to eating three filling meals a day.

♡ am i moving my body everyday? - go on walks, do some yoga or some pilates. dont cultivate a lifestyle in which ur constantly sitting and not moving cuz thats not healthy.

EDUCATION -> CAREER GOALS ;

♡ am i completing my assignments and handing them in on time? - if ur not then ur just shooting urself in the foot. do all of ur assignments and hand them in. like now.

♡ am i still focused on my dream? - if not, what do u feel is stopping u from pursuing ur dream, or what is distracting u from what actually matters? identify it and drop it.

RELATIONSHIPS ;

♡ am i isolating myself subconsciously from my friends/family? - if the answer is yes, try and figure out why and communicate with ur friends and family.

♡ am i making an effort to speak to my friends and see them? - maintaining healthy relationships takes work on both ends. you need to show ur friends that u value them and care about ur friendship for it to work. this also goes for romantic relationships.

INNER WORK AND HEALING ;

♡ am i setting aside time to do my inner work? - if not, make time bcuz ur mental health isn't something u should sweep under the rug.

♡ how do i feel? - literally that simple. be nice to urself. ask urself how u feel because ur feelings matter + they're valid.

HOW TO KEEP URSELF ON TRACK ;

use planning devices like notion, google calendar or just a simple to do list every single day. make sure not to put too much on ur plate at first. reward urself also to encourage urself to continue to do what u said you'll do.

[blackcat-star]

Hi I saw that you’re taking requests for solo leveling would it be possible to do a sung jinwoo x reader after he use the cup or reincarnation how they meet again can you also a a few silly/cute moment with all rhetorical shadow

Thank you

[High School] Revive.

Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Reader.

Note: Because Life with you - High school arc has similar content, I decided to add this to Life with you series, hope you don't mind.

______________

The light splashed out, covering everything. Dazzling. You stare at the light with wide eyes, unable to move, and time seems to stop.

And you wake up.

In a panic, you jump up and sit on the bed, one hand clutching the blanket, the other hand holding where your heart is, gasping for breath. You look around and see that you are in your room. The clock reads five thirty in the morning, just in time for dawn.

You look out the window. The sun is like a new fire rising behind the skyscrapers, the first rays of the morning light shining into your room, making the room bright even without the lights on.

Seoul has started a new day. Peaceful.

Your heart gradually stabilizes. But your mind is a mess.

You feel like you have just come back to life, like you have forgotten something, making you confused. What could you forget? But you feel that it is important.

You look at the calendar on the bedside table. You move the blanket from your body and face the coming day. Before you exit you ensure that everything is ready then move through the room and walk to the kitchen area.

Your father scans the newspaper while holding his hot coffee before him. Your mother is still preparing breakfast. Your brother is already sitting at the table, waiting.

Seeing you, your father puts down the newspaper. "Oh, my dear daughter woke up early today!"

Your brother teases. "Oh~ Lazy pig know how to wake up early today!" and get a smash on the head by your mother.

Your mother smiles gently, "You woke up so early today! Is there an special occasion?"

For some reason, your eyes feel stinging. It was the same scene as everyone else, your father still had the habit of reading the newspaper, your brother never stopped teasing you, and your mother's smile was still as gentle as ever. But... somehow you felt like it had been a long time since you had seen such a peaceful and intimate scene.

You burst into tears. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

Immediately, the whole family became panicked.

"What's wrong? Who bullys you? Tell papa. Did your brother tease you again?" Your father hit your brother on the back, stood up and ran to comfort you.

"What did I do!?" Your brother was also confused. "Oi! I'm sorry for calling you a lazy pig! Stop crying!"

You still cried loudly as you wrapped your arms around your father's neck, and burying your head in his  shoulder "I miss you all so much!"

Your family didn't understand, but they still comforted their beloved daughter. Promised to make whoever bullied you pay. Promised to buy you the things you wanted. That don't cry anymore, they would always be there for you.

You choked on your tears, just hugging your father tighter. The nameless longing seemed to be filled. Your heart seemed to lighten even though you didn't know why. But it was good to wake up and see that the people you loved were still here.

Safe. And happy.

______

Then, with puffy eyes and everyone's worried questions, you slowly carried your bag to school.

Although your parents always said that if you felt unwell, they would call the teacher to ask for you to be absent, you refused. You felt ashamed for suddenly bursting into tears like a three-year-old child in front of your family. You failed to comprehend the reason behind your strange behavior.

The start of your day found you entering class where your friends warmly received you. Your process to accept both safety and the lack of need for concern from others lasted for a substantial amount of time.

As the bell finished its sound a teacher entered the classroom. He announced that a student in the class named Sung Jinwoo had asked for an absence. Everyone immediately looked towards Jinwoo's desk, which was in the corner of the classroom, and so did you.

Sung Jinwoo? That name sounded familiar.

Previously your interest in him was nonexistent because he was average and failed to stand out in class. When his name was mentioned right now you felt as though you had known him for ages and he was someone you considered close. Your heart ached when you mentioned his name in your head.

That feeling again.

That feeling again, that feeling that you had forgotten something very important. It was so annoying.

You shook your head and patted your cheeks to calm yourself down, telling yourself that you were just imagining things because of the stress of studying lately. But a part of you still gravitates toward that name Sung Jinwoo.

The school day has passed, and you have not learned anything. Your mind is blank, and you have no energy to do anything. The whole day you have been absentmindedly looking out the window, your eyes fixed on the still shining sun. You have not even heard the teacher calling you. And as a result, you received a painful shot of chalk on the head from the teacher.

Ugh...What is wrong with you today?

Your family was very worried about you and decided to give you a day or two off so you could rest and calm your mind. Noticing their worries, you realized that you shouldn't bother everyone like that. So, you spent those two days doing what you liked, and your mind seemed to calm down.

Just when you thought you were okay, strange dreams came.

They start out as vague fragments. And gradually become clearer and longer dreams.

You dream of a world where there are things called 'dungeons' and 'hunters', and they are divided into levels. You dream of a sword in your hand, and you seem to be very familiar with that sword, as evidenced by the fact that you can use it to kill monsters skillfully.

You dream of an E-rank hunter, short but strong. Then suddenly one day that E-rank hunter becomes tall and strong. The strange thing is that you cannot see the man's face, it is always covered by dark shadows.

You dream of fighting alongside him. Witnessing his changes. And... falling in love with him.

His hand touchd your cheek so gently. He said sweet words to you. His arms around you so warmly. You found yourself loving with him. You found yourself smiling happily when you were with him. You loved the kisses he gave you.

And those dreams would usually end when he said something you couldn't hear clearly, and you will wake up with tears streaming down your pillow.

This situation repeated itself for two years. In a flash you were sixteen years old.

Today is Saturday, you have a day off from school. You and your group of close friends decide to hang out, go for a walk and try the new bakery that opened in the city center.

While laughing and joking happily, suddenly a huge portal appears in the sky. The news on the big screens of the city reports on Mrs. Selner's prophecy, that today the lord of darkness will return.

People stare at the portal, anxiously waiting for something to come out of it. And your group is no exception.

You look at the portal, your heart pounding in amazement and excitement. You suddenly feel like you are waiting, you feel like your dreams of the past two years will be answered by what will come out of it.

But you are disappointed when nothing appears after that.

Your group of friends pouts in disappointment and decide to continue with their plan to go out. You sigh and follow them. 'What was I expecting?'

You continued to walk around the streets, ignoring what just happened.

Until you passed by an ice cream shop, you felt that the scent coming from that place was fragrant and attractive. You felt strange, because it seemed like you passed by this place every day and the smell there was not as good as this. It made you want to go in and buy something.

Since you had just eaten a full cake, you didn't want to stuff anything into your stomach, because you knew that if you did, you would have to face excruciating stomach pain tonight.

But for some reason, you suddenly stopped, turned around and looked towards the ice cream shop.

A black-haired guy just ran out, he was also looking at you, his eyes wide with surprise. You swore you saw his eyes sparkle when he saw you.

When your eyes locked, your heart skipped a beat. A familiar feeling came over you, a strange emotion enveloped you. Do you know him? You're not sure. But it feels like you've known him for a long time...

Before you can do anything, your friend calls your name, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly apologize and run towards them, leaving you with a jumble of emotions.

That night, you cannot get the black-haired boy out of your mind. It make you blush violently and keep hitting your forehead against the pillow. You didn't expect to think so much about a boy you just met briefly.

Is this teenage love?

You shake your head urgently then hide under the blanket to try sleeping. 

In your dream, the black-haired man appears again. This time he's fighting the 'monarchs', shouldering the world alone...

The following Monday, you receive news that your class will have a new student. He has been out of school for two years, and he has just started going back to school.

You sat there bored, not really caring about the new student. You heard that he was a bad student, got into a fight and was suspended for two years. Although it wasn't confirmed, hearing those rumors made you not feel very good about him.

As soon as that student walked into the classroom, your eyes widened in surprise. It was the guy you saw last Saturday! Black hair, deep gray eyes, tall, super handsome!

He started to introduce himself. Just as he was about to say his name, a name suddenly popped into your head.

"Sung Jinwoo!"

You slammed the table, stood up, and shouted loudly.

Everyone in the class turned to stare at you. Jinwoo also looked at you with wide eyes, completely not expecting you to suddenly shout his name.

Your teacher asked. "Are you two acquaintances?"

Seeing everyone staring at you, you realized what you had done that made you embarrassed. And when you looked at Jinwoo, that embarrassment grew even bigger. You blushed furiously.

"Ugh...No...I'm sorry!"

You sat down in embarrassment and put your face on the table, covering your tomato-red face. But your ears betrayed you.

Jinwoo remained motionless for several seconds before he started chuckling. "Yes, I'm Sung Jinwoo."

The teacher was sure that you two knew each other before so he arranged for him to sit next to you. That only made you feel more embarrassed. You buried your face in your books all morning, not daring to look to the side.

You didn't know that Jinwoo was always looking at you, his lips curled up and his eyes filled with longing and love.

At lunchtime, everyone gathered around his desk, making you sigh in relief. At least you wouldn't see him anymore since the girls had already surrounded him. But before you could rejoice, Jinwoo looked over at you, smiled gently, and invited you to eat lunch together.

The embarrassing memories of this morning flooded back, making you blush again, stuttering and running out of the classroom under his surprised gaze.

Jinwoo laughed, finding your actions adorable.

After sprinting to the top you rested against the wall as your breathing intensified.

When around him you developed random clumsiness and a fidgety state of mind with no explanation. You also didn't understand why your heart felt warm when you saw him. You lied to yourself that you felt that way because this was the first time you saw someone as handsome as him.

You sighed and took out your lunch box. When you raised your head, you suddenly saw an ant's head pressing against your face, making you startled and step back.

The ant looked at you for a moment and then suddenly burst into tears. "My Queen!!"

You find him very familiar, but you can't remember who he is. And because you have lost your memories of the previous timeline, the first thing you feel is fear, which is a normal human reaction. You were looking at this strange creature in horror.

And then a knight appeared beside the ant, calling him Beru and scolding him for suddenly appearing and scaring you.

Looking at the two huge shadows before your eyes, you were too shocked and fainted to the panicked cries of Beru and Igris.

______

You woke up in the school infirmary. Jinwoo was reading a book next to you.

You froze for a moment.

Jinwoo saw that you were awake and asked you if you were okay. You nodded in confusion.

He smiled, "I'm relieved that you're okay."

At the handsome guy's smile, you blushed again and pulled the blanket over your head. Noticing your confusion, Jinwoo decided to give you some privacy. "School isn't over yet. Take a break. If you're too tired, you can call in for a day off."

And he went out and closed the door for you. Hearing the door close, you jumped up and covered your face with both hands. You still couldn't stop blushing when you were near him.

And then you remembered the two shadows that appeared at noon and you shivered. You reassured yourself that you were just hallucinating.

Meanwhile, in the Shadow Realm, Beru is crying because you don't remember him and are afraid of him. Bellion and Igris scold him for appearing suddenly, explaining that you don't remember anything about the past when the world still had dungeons and hunters.

But Beru doesn't seem to listen to any of it and continues to cry. This poor guy just misses you so much.

In the following days, you tried to get used to Jinwoo sitting next to you and tried to ignore him.

The desire to embrace him along with the need to kiss his lips was constant yet you managed to keep yourself from doing so. The intensity of your emotions seemed insane since it was impossible to feel this way about someone who had only recently entered your life.

And ever since Jinwoo moved in, you always saw shadows around you stirring. You saw that all the shadows seemed to be directed towards Jinwoo, or rather, focused on him.

Sometimes, those shadows would have a certain shape. Typically, when you were listening to the lecture, you suddenly looked out the door and saw a giant ant - Beru - pressing against the glass, looking at you with teary eyes, making you startled and stiff.

Since you were in class, you pretended to be normal and tried to ignore him. You mumbled that you were just imagining it, this wasn't real, you were just imagining it.

When Jinwoo touched you, you jumped, almost screaming. You felt uncomfortable as he asked if you needed to go to the infirmary but you gave him a crooked smile before refusing. Surprisingly the shadow became invisible when you glanced through the window a second time.

You didn't know that Jinwoo had actually noticed Beru and frowned, silently giving him orders, and then Igris came and grabbed Beru by the neck, disappearing from your sight.

Jinwoo would definitely scold Beru after that day and punish him by doing a neck plank for hours.

______

Ever since Jinwoo arrived, your dreams have become clearer. They are like slow motion movies that are broadcast in multiple episodes.

Step by step, all the memories of your past life are gradually restored. You gradually see the man's face clearly.

Especially on one night, you dream of that man again. He is standing in front of the Light Fragments, expressing his wish that he can use the Reincarnation Chalice to turn back time, to fix everything himself.

You try to stop him. But he just smiles and hugs you, saying that he has lost too many people, and he wants to fix everything.

You cry, he gently wipes your tears away. "Please support me, okay? I'll come find you when I'm done."

You choke up, knowing that you can't stop him. "Promise me to come back safely."

The man smiles and places a gentle kiss on your lips. "I promise."

Then the light enveloped you, his face slowly appearing. Black hair, deep gray eyes, looking at you with promise.

Sung Jinwoo.

It was him. Your lover, your hero, your hero you fought alongside.  He did it, he came back. But why didn't he let you remember all these memories?

You woke up and cried.

________

The next day, you came to class with a sullen face and told Jinwoo to meet you behind the school after school today.

Seeing you unhappy made him confused, not knowing what he had done wrong. As if to increase his fear, you didn't say a word to him all day even though he tried to talk to you.

Jinwoo felt helpless.

The shadow soldiers kept gossiping in his ears.

"My King, what did you do to make the queen angry?"

"You're in trouble!"

"My King, making your partner angry is not the right thing for a Shadow Monarch to do."

"You should apologize to her."

Jinwoo didn't know what he had done wrong. But he knew he needed to apologize to you.

So, after school, he immediately went to behind the school as you told him. Seeing you approaching, he quickly said "Sorry-"

But before he could finish his sentence, you punched him in the face. Completely unaware of your action, he took the full force of the punch and looked at you in surprise.

You looked at him with burning eyes, which were quickly covered with tears and you cried loudly. "Sung Jinwoo! You idiot!"

He was stunned when he saw your tears and panicked. Ignoring the fact that you had just punched him, he quickly approached and kept apologizing, begging you not to cry.

The shadow soldiers were agitated.

"My King, how could you make the Queen cry!?"

"Making your spouse cry is unbecoming of a gentleman, Your Majesty."

"You have to comfort the Queen right away or she will hate you!"

And that only made Jinwoo panic more.

You went to hug him. "Sung Jinwoo! You idiot! I remember everything, you bastard."

When Jinwoo detected your tears he quickly brought you into a tight embrace. His actions included gentle hair stroking before he placed kisses on your forehead while continuously expressing regret. "It is my fault. Please don't cry. You can punch me a few more times to relieve your anger. Please don't cry anymore."

You patted his chest repeatedly, telling him how much you missed him, blaming him for not letting you miss him in the first place, for letting you live in longing and pain for two years.

He was still patient with you, trying to make you stop crying because his heart ached seeing you cry like that.

It took you a while to calm down.

Now the two of you were sitting on a bench in the park, you still sniffling softly and Jinwoo patting your back. You pitifully looked over at Jinwoo and saw the red mark on his cheek, feeling guilty for suddenly hitting him.

"...Does it hurt?"

Jinwoo smiled reassuringly. "No, it's nothing. Don't worry."

You glanced at him before hugging him tight as your face rested against his shoulder. "I missed you so much. Welcome back."

"I missed you too." He hugged you tightly. "I'm back, back to you."

_____

And after that...

Beru, Igris, Bellion, and a few other shadow soldiers also appeared. You smiled and waved at them. "I missed you guys too."

As always, Beru was the most emotional. "My Queen, you finally remembered. I, Beru, this humble one is very happy."

Bellion looked at Beru with disdain, "You're overreacting," which made Beru angry.

"How could you say that!?"

And the two of them started arguing.

Igris sighed and knelt before you. "I'm glad to see you again, my Queen."

You smiled. "Everyone has worked hard. Welcome back."

It's finally over.

Everyone can be together now.

_________

Extra: When you met at the ice-cream shop.

Shadow Realm.

"Attention everyone! Look! Our King has met the Queen again!"

Silent.

"HURRAYYYYY."

"Finally this day has come!"

"My King! Hug her, kiss her, propose to her, marry her, and have kids!!!!"

"YAYYY OUR QUEEN!!!"

And they had a party to celebrate all day.

______________________________

Part of LIFE WITH YOU.

______________________________

tag: @soft-dots

[temiizpalace]

❥┊OPERATION: ANNIVERSARY

SUMMARY: you two decided to celebrate your anniversary every month. it was his turn to give you a gift, and he had nothing prepared for you! out of panic, he searches for backup. operation: anniversary!

CHARACTERS: first years

╰ ˙∘ …

GENRE: fluffy fluff with a side of fluff and fluff on top

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: pairings were randomly selected by wheel for more interesting interactions + lots of "ily's". please enjoy!

reader is g/n, reader is not specified to be you

❤┊ACE TRAPPOLA

ace huffs, staring at the chocolate that’s been resting in the fridge for what felt like ages.

fiddling with the nicely wrapped ribbon, he stares at the calendar blankly, dreading the upcoming days. “oi, ace. this entire week you’ve been spacing out in the middle of cleanup! housewarden will have our heads if the kitchen ain’t spotless.” deuce grits his teeth, brushing the dust from the floors into a dustpan.

“shaddup, deuce. can’t ya see im busy?” ace huffs in response, brushing his companion off with a frown. peering over his shoulder, deuce narrows his eyes and looks to ace, brows furrowed. “did you even get them anything back?” he asks, setting down his cleaning supplies off to the right. ace remains silent, wiping an imaginary sweat off his brow.

“not cool, ace.” he scoffs, causing ace to jerk his head back with a defensive expression. “im working on it! just you wait, my gift will be so good it’ll knock all competition outta the water!” he declares, storming out of the room with the chocolates in hand.

laying still on the couch, ace groans as he racks his brain for ideas, feeling lost and hopeless. “urrghh, why..” he mopes, putting a pillow over his face with a solemn sigh. love was such a struggle.. gifts were never this hard, so why was he overthinking it so damn much? somedays he wish he could just suck up these stupid feelings and toss them out to never see the light of day.

“woaahh, did somebody die in here?” cater exclaims, looking at ace’s lifeless body. he takes note of the chocolate resting in the first years hand, his mind putting the pieces together with a cheeky grin. “were those from [MC]..?” he asks, leaning against the armrest.

looking from behind the cushion, ace looks to cater’s face, then to the chocolate. with a slight blush, he covers the exposed parts of his face with his hand and grumbles. “so what if they were?”

“your monthly anniversary is soon, yknow. got anything planned?” the same damn question. ace frowns at his upperclassman and sits up. for once he doesn’t say anything, only earning a raised brow from the boy across from him. pulling out his phone, cater opens up magicam and plops himself next to ace.

“heree~☆! check out what’s trending for some fresh inspo!” cater grins, scrolling through the reels and reels of videos in the #anniversary tag. all the videos were nothing short of extravagant, insanely thoughtful acts of love to their partner. ace’s brows knitted together, side-eyeing cater.

“and how am i supposed to pull any of that off?” he scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning back. cater tuts, wagging his finger. “silly ace.. the trick is to show your love in your own way,” he explains with a wink. “your love is uniquely yours, and the ways you express it are accustomed to you. if [MC] really likes you, then any act of love you give them will be enough.”

sitting there for a moment, ace thought cater’s words over carefully. “uniquely mine..” he whispered, staring at the ground. with a small pat on the back, cater stands upright and waves as he exits. “i’ll be in the rose garden. text if ya need anything, kayy?”

ace has yet to budge from his spot, resting his chin on his hand. “uniquely mine, huh?” he repeats, images of you flashing across his mind. he smiled softly to himself, taking a glance at the chocolate in his hands. with a slight chuckle, he gets up and walks towards sam’s shop. “this love stuff stinks.” he murmurs with a grin.

❥˙∘ ✦

“this is for me?” you ask, holding the item in your hands. it was encased in a small velvet pouch, the material feeling very nice in your palms. you were surprised at how fancy this packaging was considering the one giving it to you was ace of all people. “yeah, yeah, sure. consider this a repayment for last celebration.” ace shrugs, trying to act nonchalant about this exchange.

he tried to mask the beating sound of his heart, desperately praying you were unaware of the way you make his heart race increasingly fast. you open the pouch to find a keychain. there were small charms on it, but the one that stood out to you the most was the ace of hearts charm hanging in the center. he averts your eyes, whistling as if he didn’t plan all this with a light blush on his cheeks.

you stare at it in the light, a smile forming at the corners of your lips. “ace..” you begin, trailing off, unable to find the words appropriate enough for your gratitude. “no need to thank me, i know, i know.” he smiled triumphantly, making you laugh.

“..i’ll cherish this.” walking over to him, you were going to pull him into an embrace, but he beat you to it. “thank you.” he murmurs softly, a contrast to his usual sarcastic tone and remarks. his voice was genuine, laced with raw emotion. patting his back, you smiled at him in response. “love you.” you coo, making his ears red.

“love ya, too.”

♠┊DEUCE SPADE

deuce sits at his desk, crumpling another piece of paper for the nth time before tossing it into the overflowing trash bin.

his side of the room was littered in tossed sheets of paper, looking like a madman who has yet to find a plan. to be fair, that was not far-off. deuce sighs as he lifts the parchment in the air to get a better look, smiling to himself proudly. it was then did he notice the small mistake on one of the letters, causing the poor boy to furrow his brow and crumple the paper. he tossed it, letting it join the rest of the stack.

ace kicks through the sea of discarded letters, frowning as the pile seemed never ending. “aagghh, couldn’t ya at least try to be neater, deuce?” he whines, picking up a letter and uncrumpling it to reveal the messily written handwriting.

“dont!” deuce shot upward, yanking the parchment out of his roommates hand and tearing it to shreds. “GAH—!” ace exclaims, holding his hands up in defense. “whatever, it wasn’t decipherable anyway.” he huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “look, we both know your tryna write to [MC]. just put down anythin, they’ll probably lose their mind over it anyway.”

deuce shakes his head, staring down at his recently written letter. rereading it in his head, he can’t help but feel unsatisfied, like something is missing from it. “but i don’t wanna give them a half-assed letter.. what if they don’t accept me? is this even enough to repay them?” he murmurs, holding it tightly to his chest. he felt he’ll never be able to give you enough, to repay you in a way that’ll truly reflect his love.

ace sighs, patting his friend on the back. “this might come off as a sick joke, but i do know one guy that could help.. just.. don’t freak out about it.” deuce looks up at ace, a look of expectance on his face. “thanks, man.”

..what?

deuce finds himself in front of idia’s room, contemplating as to whether ace was actually pranking him or if this was genuine advice. well, idia is an upperclassman.. surely he still has some advice to give. but then again, the guys a total shut-in. just as he was about to turn and leave, ortho chimes in from around the corner.

“deuce spade? what are you doing here!” he cheerily asks, catching deuce off guard. “ortho?! is your brother here?” he asks nervously, earning a nod from ortho. “yeah, he’s inside his room! we can go in together.” without giving deuce a moment, ortho is already knocking.

“ortho?” the voice from behind calls out. upon entry, idia is hunched over in his seat, one foot on the chair as he types away on his monitor. “deuce spade came to visit you, big bro!” ortho exclaims, causing idia to freeze. “..what..”

deuce waves awkwardly, clutching the letter in his hand tightly. “ace told me you could help me with something..” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “..ya sure your not getting pranked?” idia sighs, narrowing his eyes at the boy across him. “even if he is prankin me, i’ll show him who’s the fool!” deuce grits his teeth, directing his frustration towards the redhead.

“what do you write to someone on their anniversary?” he asks straightforwardly, making idia’s eyes widening. “wh-what? and you th-think id know?! does it look like someone like me would have an anniversary?!” shaking his head, idia rolls back on his chair before hitting the wall. racking his brain for ideas, deuce tries to find ways to convince idia to help him. deuce was stubborn, and he doesn’t appreciate quitters.

“..ace said you of all people should have the most experience! you're a gaming guy, this is completely in your turf! shouldn’t you have years and years of knowledge?” deuce mentions, practically tooting idia's horn. he looks up from his curled position, letting the first years words register. his ego is boosted, confidence running to new heights. idia smirks, brushing off his shoulder. "well, i guess i do know a thing or two about romance.."

"im familiar with all the fan ships in games and manga. call me an expert." deuce lets out a sigh of relief as idia took the bait, rushing over to his desk to immediately ask for help. that was too easy.

❥˙∘ ✦

"[MC]!" deuce calls out, rushing over to you with a shout. you turn around in a hurry, noticing the poor boy out of breath. "deuce!? is everything alright?" you ask, suddenly getting an envelope shoved in your hand. "here!" deuce bows, giving the letter to you with two hands. "..what's this?" taking the sealed letter from his hands, you look to him as if asking to open it.

he nods in response, watching intensely as you unfolded the letter.

'dear [mc],

i dunno how 2 start this but thanks for the chocolate. you somehow made it exactly how i liked it and i thought it was really good. today, i wanna repay you for everything that you do for me cuz you really really deserve it. for our anniversary together.

every little thing about you, i want to celebrate on this day. ill return my feelings to you tenfold and promise you the awesomest day ever. we can do anything you want and maybe take a ride on my blastcycle after school. if you want i can bake you a cake as an even bigger thank you for today too. there's nothin out there that can really show my feelings so i hope this letter is ok

what im tryna say is thank you for everything. let me be the one to do something for you today and show you how much i really really like love you. happy anniversary to us ♡

-- deuce'

the handwriting was shaky, and dare you say this letter was awkward in some places. despite that, you can't help the heat sneaking up on your cheeks, the dopey grin on your face that says it all. deuce fidgets in place, his hands forming knuckles before finally breaking the silence. "th-the letter is pretty stupid anyway! here--let me just take it back!" he quickly exclaims, reaching for the letter before you hastily avoid his grasp. "no way!"

you instead grab the arm that reached for the letter and brought him into an embrace instead. he stands there, dumbfounded for a moment. "its perfect, deuce." you smile as he returns your hug, squeezing you tightly.

no words needed to be exchanged at that moment. the calm silence filled the air as you both keep your positions for a few moments more.

🐺┊JACK HOWL

mindlessly watering his cactus, jack's thoughts seemed to wander.

your monthly anniversary was just around the corner, yet he had no gift for you. he was disgusted with himself.. he had the whole month to think of something, anything you might like, yet he had nothing. what a sign of weakness, he thought, frowning as he set down the watering can.

during his reps, he barely kept count. all he thought about was what he could get you.. yet the feat seemed impossible. would anything he give even be good enough? the chocolate you gave him was great, amazing even. all his questions led to more questions, then even more questions.

not to mention during class did he look more sour than usual. students nearly paved the way as he passed through the halls, wondering what the hell put this guy in such a foul mood. "jack?" epel calls out, snapping jack out of his week long daze. "is everything alright? you looked seriously more intimidating today an' yesterday." epel shakes his head, trying to guess what this was about.

"..it's nothing." jack sighs, crossing his arms and walking far past epel before the interrogation could even begin. he can't handle this right now. nothing a good run can't fix. thankfully track and field met today, maybe then will he be put back to normal.

however, he still felt lost the entire time. not once has he ever felt this way before, the feeling is foreign. he has received chocolate, but never from someone he truly fell for. the unfamiliar feelings swallowed him whole, drowned him with uncertainty and confusion. he scowls as he ran, accelerating faster and faster after each lap. deuce notices jack acting more off, furrowing his brow during the break.

"jack!" deuce shouts, alerting the beastman. "what's going on with you? for the past month you have that same blank look on your face." he shrugs, watching as jack averted his gaze. "it's nothing." he states, ready to end the conversation before suddenly getting stopped by deuce. "it's not nothing! something is bothering you and keeping aint gonna do anything!" deuce exclaims confidently, practically forcing jack into a corner.

"..it's not any of your business." jack grits, trying to find a way out. "is this about [MC]? yknow, after the chocolates?" deuce mentions, causing jack to practically freeze in his tracks. "i told you it wasn't any of your business." he huffs, turning his back to deuce.

"if you're worried, im sure they'd be happy with anything you get them! even just being around you makes them happy, so don't beat yourself up over it!" reassuring the lost beastman, he pats jack on the shoulders and throws him a thumbs up. oddly enough, jack felt slightly relieved. knowing at least somebody had his back put him at ease, nodding his head at deuce's advice.

"okay, gotcha. thanks." with that quick talk, jack is already back to running. his pace is back to normal and his expression had been reverted to its previous glory. the track team sighs in relief, celebrating deuce for bringing their star back down to earth.

❥˙∘ ✦

"jack, this is so cute!" you squealed, grasping the silver wolf plushie in your hands tightly. he crossed his arms, staring at the space above your head rather than right at you.

“this is what i owe you after last month..” he murmurs, causing you so smile slightly. “mhm, your tail is wagging.” he tries to hide it, grabbing it to prevent it from moving rapidly. jack grumbles something under his breath as his face started to heat up.

“thank you.” pulling jack close, you wrap your arms tightly around him. he flinches, trying to find a reaction. gently, he returns the hug. his ears twitch, tail wagging and brushing against your leg. jack smiles, staring into your eyes.

“this was the least i could do for you. after everything.” he brushes against your cheek with his finger, unable to hide his loving gaze. “i love you, jack.” you coo, squeezing him tightly.

“love you too.” he whispered, kissing the top of your head with a lovestruck grin.

🍎┊EPEL FELMIER

epel scratched his chin, glaring at the mirror with intensity.

“dangnabbit.. stupid, stupid..” cursing himself for forgetting such an important day, epel stewed as he started scratching his scalp, racking his brain for even a faint idea. “nahh.. maybe— no..” he murmurs, shaking his head on occasion.

the chocolate you made him was delicious, he ate it all in one sitting! he was thinking of making you some back, but he’d hate to recycle your ideas as vil said it “wasn’t romantic enough.” salty about that comment, he didn’t dare ask his housewarden for help. but the gift completely slipped his mind, and now he was empty handed. “arrrgggghh… what a load of—”

“epel.” a voice breaks through the boys mindless sputtering, jerking his head towards the sound of the voice. vil stood there with a raised brow, silently demanding epel to stop scratching his chin. “are you trying to get acne?” he sighs, massaging his temple.

epel moved his hand back to his side, mumbling an apology before turning back to the mirror. “are you positive you don’t need my help?” vil frowns, crossing his arms at the helpless first year in front of him. “dang right.. ahem, i mean, im positive.”

vil shook his head. “right.. i have an errand for you to run.” he holds up a list and places it in epel’s hand. it was folded neatly and pristinely, but crumpled in the first years hand. “hah?”

“rush to octavinelle and pick up the items on the list. jade or azul should meet you there.”

unfolding the paper, different types of makeup and skincare products were listed below. “..don’t they run a restaurant?” epel frowns, raising his brow. “don’t underestimate azul’s desire for sponsorship.” vil notes, rushing the boy away.

walking down the halls, epel found himself spiraling back to the original problem. his brow is furrowed, trying harshly to concentrate and find something that was worthy, truly worthy of you. “..nah that won’t do either! what would gran think if i couldn’t impress ‘em?” he grumbles, looking around the lounge.

floyd looks over one of the booths and grins as he saw epel enter the lounge. “guppy!” he exclaims, startling the poor first year. “gah! floyd!”

“what brings ya to the lounge?” he asks, circling epel like a small piece of prey. brushing imaginary dirt off his blazer, epel sighs with a frown. “actually, i was looking for—”

“jade or azul? they’re plannin in the VIP lounge. this about beta fish’s studs? stuffs right here.” he holds up an elegantly patterned paper bag, purple streaks resembling seaweed and shells printed across. “ah, thank you.”

“you good, guppy? your face is a lot more frowny than usual. seriously, kinda cringe.” floyd shrugs, starting to loose interest. “what?” epel scoffs, shaking his head trying to stay polite. “argh, i mean, yes im fine, thank you.” he nods, gripping the bag tightly.

tilting his head, floyd stares unconvinced. “you suck at lyin. tell me! tell me! tell me!” with his interest piqued once again, floyd starts circling epel once more, giggling and grinning foolishly. “hey! i told ya it’s nothin! leave me alone!” epel tried swatting the eel away, but his efforts result in vain.

“tell me! tell me! tell me or ill squeeze the answer outta ya.” with a sudden shift in tone, from playful to murderous, he throws the first year a deadly glare. epel freezes, biting back his insults.

“fine! it’s [MC]..” he mumbles, looking to the side with embarrassment. “i dont know what to gift them.” he sighs, picking at his chin again. expecting floyd to leave disinterested after getting his answer, epel is taken aback as he heard said eel blow a raspberry instead. “pssshh, that’s easy.”

“..huh?”

“lemme guess, you wanna do somethin over the top or whatever?” he asks, clocking epel. “wh— so what if i did, hah?” epel retorts, looking to floyd with a glare.

“well the answers right under ya nose, silly! tadaaan, cooking!” floyd reveals, smiling with a dopey grin. “cooking?”

“geez do i gotta spell everythin out for ya? just cook em something and they’ll be all over ya. easy as that.” floyd states matter of factly, now looking at epel with disinterest. “this is gettin boring. later.”

and just like that, the large twin disappeared into the kitchen.

epel scratches the back of his neck, beginning to loose himself in thought. he wasn’t familiar with any types of fancy cooking, mostly things like one pot stews at home..

however, his last dish during the culinary crucible was a major success, he’s definitely got this in the bag so long as he puts his mind to it.

and besides, he’s always wanted to take you back to harveston for a second time. a nice home cooked meal? doesn’t that scream married couple?

❥˙∘ ✦

as you entered the dorm, you were hit by the smell of familiar spices and seasonings, thrown in with a hint of crisp fresh apples. smells like harveston, you thought, smiling fondly to yourself.

epel pops out from behind the corner, dressed in a nice apron while holding up a pot of stew. the top was still bubbling, steam clouded his face but not enough to hide his blooming smile. “you’re finally back! take a seat, i made stew!” he leads you to the table. it was decorated, albeit clumsily, but much nicer than how you left it.

“what’s gotten into you?” you laugh, taking a seat across from him. epel sets the pot onto the table, scooping a generous amount into your bowl. the carrots have been chopped in the shape of hearts and apples. “hah? don’t tell me you forgot!” he pouts, acting as if he wasn’t distressed for the last month.

“monthly anniversary? helloo?” he cracks some pepper on the top of your stew before sliding it in front of you. “hmm, so you did remember.” you smiled, seeing as he looked to you with mock offense. “ya think i’d forget or somethin?!” he exclaims, now wondering if he came off wrong this entire time.

“relax, relax, just teasing. this smells great, epel.” you grin, grabbing your spoon, eager to chow down on the goodness before you. “thanks! it’s a recipe meemaw taught me back home. she said i was basically a master at it.” he huffs triumphantly, puffing his chest up with pride.

you take a bite of the piping hot dish. flavors exploded on your tongue, the familiar and warm feeling exactly what you needed after such a long day. “feels like home.” you murmured with a smile, looking at him with a soft look in your eyes.

epel couldn’t help but blush, taking your free hand and squeezing it tightly. “happy anniversary.”

⚡┊SEBEK ZIGVOLT

sebek grumbled angrily as he kicked at the dirt beneath his feet.

he had been tasked with the duty of shoveling the horse dung into a pile. normally, he’d take such tasks with pride! being the one assigned by riddle to take care of such a strenuous and laborious task? why this must be complimenting his strength and stamina. (literally nobody else wants to do the job) ((nobody is more eager than him to do it)).

however, something was off about today.

“sebek, is everything alright? i’ve noticed you’ve been.. quieter than usual.” riddle asks, glancing at the pouting first year. his brow was furrowed and his glare was harsher than usual. anyone with a right mind would back away from such an intimidating figure. sebek shakes his head. “yes, im perfectly fine!”

the reason for sebek’s dismay wasn’t because of poop scooping duty. no, he had not the faintest idea on what to get you for your once-a-month anniversary. it felt like anything he could do has been done already. chocolate? check. cooking? ..ehh. restaurant date? check. he picked every standard date there was possible, but he was afraid nothing was enough to WOW you.

he grimaced as he imagined you growing bored and moving on, leaving him for another. he couldn’t even handle the thought, shaking his head aggressively before slapping his cheeks to snap out of it. silver and riddle jump slightly, unaware of the poor boys internal torment.

“sebek. you’re gonna scare the horses.” silver sighs, brushing the stallions mane. “agreed. not to mention, this behavior doesn’t exactly scream ‘perfectly fine’ to me..” riddle frowns, trying to grab the shovel from sebek’s hand. “might i suggest taking a break to clear your head?”

sebek frowns at the thought, the mere idea of being useless. “i can assure you, everything is alright! your concern is not needed.” he huffs, yanking the shovel back into his hands. continuing to scoop with agitation, riddle felt himself growing more irritated.

if there was anything anyone knew about sebek, if you were a superior he respects, he’ll follow your words to the letter. “sebek. by my order as a housewarden, i demand you to take a walk!” riddle shouts, forcing sebek to freeze. “b-but—”

“did i happen to stutter? housewarden’s orders!”

though they didn’t share a dorm, sebek wouldn’t dare disrespect his upperclassman. reluctantly handing the shovel to riddle, he’s shooed away to take a stroll in the nearby thicket. grumbling words to himself, he leans against a nearby tree and looks up at the sky.

his weakness was showing. he’s gonna be left behind. countless words stirred in his head, brewing and lingering doubts and negative thoughts.. it was beginning to grow overbearing.

gripping the thing closest to him, there was a soft squish before realizing it had stained his hand. “grrk! by the seven..” he grumbled, looking at the mystery plant he had just killed.

“oh dear, that was a hydnellym peckii..” a familiar voice sighed from behind, making sebek jolt. “a-a what?!” he exclaims, turning to see jade leech.

“also known as a devil’s tooth or bleeding tooth mushroom.. fufu it’s quite fascinating.” he chuckles, resting his hand on his chin. “..that is, before you had squished it.”

“bleeding tooth?!” sebek frowns, wiping his hand against the bark. “by no means is it poisonous, just incredibly bitter.” jade notes, picking up the remains of the fungi and placing it into a small plastic baggy.

“never mind that, what brings you to the forest, sebek? are you also out foraging?” the eel asks, smiling in anticipation. “no, i am out here clearing my head!” he exclaims, nodding affirmatively.

jade raises his brow, but chooses not to comment. “i see.. it has been known that you’ve been much quieter lately,” jade notes, thinking aloud. “could it be perhaps something is troubling you? we are always free at the lounge if you require assistance. fufu..”

narrowing his eyes at the vice housewarden, sebek scoffs. “i would rather not get myself involved in your dorms shady deals! my issues are entirely personal!” sebek retorts.

“yes, yes, about [MC]?” jade asked nonchalantly, catching the poor first year off guard. “where in the world did you obtain such information?!” he shouts, hiding the blush on his ears. “fufu, word happens to travel fast is all.”

“argh..” before commenting once more, sebek thinks about it for a second. jade, while shady, has always presented himself as a gentleman. even with his distaste, it is true he may be able to learn a thing or two.

“..you’re correct. if i have permission to ask, what would one gift their partner on a special occasion?” sebek asks, making jade smirk.

“are you willing to pay the price if i were to answer?” he asks, not willing to let a good deal go to waste. “would foraging for your fungi suffice? lilia had trained me to be able to search for plants and resources in the wild on my own.” sebek offers, not wanting to waste time with jade’s banter. pleased with his offer, jade nods.

“my, what a generous offer.”

“natural beauty is all around us. though most flora happen to ward us away, the most dangerous are also the most enchanting,” jade starts, leaning down towards a flower hidden in thorns. he picks it, holding it to the light. “additionally, the language in which nature speaks is endearing in its own right. each plant houses its own meaning, its own definition in a gift.”

“it all belies on how you choose to gift it.” with that, jade slides the flower into a small booklet and gives sebek a nod. “if you are in need of more advice. you may visit me in the lounge. i must take my leave now.”

jade leaves sebek in the forest alone, wading in his own thoughts. gazing down at the grass beneath him, he picks at the small flowers growing down below.

❥˙∘ ✦

“sebek, this is beautiful!” you squeal, holding the extravagant bouquet of flowers in your hand. sebek smiles proudly, blushing from ear to ear. “this flower exclusively grows in briar valley. i can assure you you’ll find nothing of the sort anywhere else.”

the sticks were less like branches and more like thorns, rigid and sharp at the ends. however, blossoming white flowers adorned the bouquet, leaving you breathless as it glowed in the darkness of the nrc halls.

“i love them, thank you sebek.” you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he clears his throat, trying his best to not act shy.

“take this as a token of my gratitude, my eternal love. i will forever be in your debts and will cherish time we will and have spent. most of all,”

he brings you close, holding you in a tight hug.

“happy anniversary, my love.”

A/N: this was supposed to be the white day fic,,,,,,,, honestly i was gonna just scrap but i was halfway done with jacks so i tried salvaging it. sorry if it’s off in some parts. anyway hiii.

date published: 05/05/25

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[fae-renjun]

...AND EVERY CHRISTMAS AFTER — o.so

PAIRING oh sion x fem!reader ── .✦ GENRE childhood friends to lovers, fluff, very mild angst ── .✦ WARNINGS just kissing, the most fluff i've ever written ── .✦ SYNOPSIS in which you’ve spent every christmas growing up with sion, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spend every christmas after with him too. ── .✦ A/N this is my entry for the @k-films 2024 advent calendar! ── .✦ WC 1.4k+

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 11:27am

It’s Christmas day, and the whole house is alive and in a hurry. Shouts of “mom, where’s my sweater?” and “get out! I need to use the bathroom!” fill the air, drowning out George Michael’s voice in Last Christmas as it plays from the living room speakers. Frantic relatives rush through the hallways past fairy lights and fake wreaths to get ready for the guests to arrive. It’s the first year in your life that the guests haven’t stayed over on Christmas eve. 

“Y/N, can you make me hot chocolate?” shouts Sakuya from the floor above. “Why would I?” you reply to the brother in question. “I’ll do your dishes tonight.” “Deal.”

While you stir away at the two cups of hot chocolate in front of you, it becomes difficult to get your mind off the foreboding you’d felt in the pit of your stomach since waking up that day. You love your family, you really do. Winter break has been beyond fun with your cousins in town. But just this once you wish you could spend Christmas at your friend’s party instead. Just so you could avoid him. You still don’t have it in you to face him. Not after last December.

Almost as if your thoughts hold summoning powers, the doorbell rings, “Kids, come to the living room, they’re here!”

You walk out of the kitchen to face the family of your mother’s best friend, including her son: Oh Sion. The boy you hadn’t seen since new years, when you took a chance and kissed him and he didn't kiss back. The boy who stared back in disbelief after you pulled away which was more than enough to add to your mortification. The boy you’d made every effort to avoid all year.

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 24th december 2016, 7:54pm

“They’re so stupid, why would they use that door?”

“The point of the movie is that they’re stupid Sion.”

“Okay, but-”

Before the argument you’re having over Home Alone can go on any longer, your mother shushes both of you, “be quieter, everyone else is trying to watch the movie too.”

You lock eyes with Sion and then both of you turn back to your mother, “Now you’re just lying mom.”

“Yeah Mrs.L/N, it’s a kids movie, none of the adults here care. Not even you.”

“And Saku isn’t even old enough to know what’s going on.”

Your mother reopens her mouth as if to say something, but then seems to change her mind, smiling at the two of you and shaking her head. The two of you turn back to the movie as she turns to Sion’s mom, saying something about how no matter how much the pair of you bickered, you had a habit of standing up for yourselves together. If nine-year-old you cared to listen, you would have heard them say they hoped you two stayed this way forever.

It’s Christmas eve, you’re sitting next to a boy you would realise you loved 5 years later, and your mothers already think you are meant to be. 

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:02pm

Since he got here, you had avoided eye contact, excused yourself to finish making hot chocolate, excused yourself to go to the bathroom, excused yourself to set up the lunch table. Alas, there were only so many excuses you could make before being forced to sit in the living room with everyone else. By some Christmas miracle, when you got there the only open seat was the one right next to Sion.

Sion shifted to the side, making more space for you to sit, but instead you maneuvered yourself to sit on the carpeted floor right next to the Christmas tree. You manage to get through a lot of the wait time before lunch by eating candy, drinking your hot chocolate, only speaking when asked a question (usually “yes my studies are going great” or “yes, I've started looking at a few colleges”), and most importantly by looking everywhere except at him. Yet, your mother just had to shatter your nearly flawless streak of avoidance.

“Y/N, why don’t you get some hot chocolate for Sion too?”

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2021, 1:27am

“Shhh, they’ll hear!” you whisper-yelled at him.

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

You just shook your head in response and reached over to redirect the light from the phone in his hand to the stairs in front of you, tiptoeing down, hoping the wood underfoot won’t creak. The boy next to you grabs your hand with his free one, pulling the two of you closer together than you were before. You stare at the hands and then at his face.

Sion leans to reach your ear to whisper, “I thought I heard something from upstairs.”

All you do is nod in response and continue carefully making your way down. Sion’s face stays close to yours, his hand continues to envelope your own.

You reach the entrance to the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs, turning on its lights. Sion takes his hand off yours, coughing awkwardly as he moves away and turns off his phone's flashlight. You head to the shelf in the furthest corner, getting on your toes in an attempt to reach the cookies right at the top. Sion approaches from behind leaning over you to reach the cookies easily. The gesture and the proximity make your fourteen-year-old heart flutter.

He takes a seat on the floor, placing the cookies down, just as you do the same with the cola you pulled out of the fridge. 

“I can’t imagine a Christmas without you. Or uh- you know. Without all of this,” he says quietly.

“Me neither,” you respond, just as quietly.

It’s Christmas day, you’re sitting on your kitchen floor with a boy, and you’re beginning to realise you may not just have a silly crush on him. You might just be in love. 

⋆⁺₊❅.─ 25th december 2024, 12:27pm

The kitchen has always been just out of earshot of the main living room area. The voices of both of your families fade into the background as the two of you walk in, the rapid beating of your heart becoming louder by the second and filling your ears. You start making the hot chocolate as he leans on the counter next to you, trying (and failing) to meet your eyes. 

“You’ve been avoiding me. Not just today, all year. Since new year’s.”

“I don’t really want to talk about new year’s.”

“Hm?” he hums with a questioning tone.

You stop stirring, finally meeting his eyes, “It was just- you know. A mistake. Drank a little too much. Won’t happen again.”

“We only had one beer each that night. I know your tolerance is higher than that. And I’d like it to happen again.”

There’s a pause. You process what he’s just said to you. Sion can tell by the look on your face that the cogs are turning in your head and a smirk begins to form on his face.

“Oh.” 

He nods, then after another pause you continue, “But you didn’t kiss back.”

“Because I was surprised! You’ve got to give a guy a second to figure out what’s going on before you assume the worst,” he shakes his head in mock disappointment while he smiles at your stunned expression, “I was surprised you liked me back.”

“You liked me?” “I might actually be in love with you.”

“Oh,” your voice now reduced to a whisper out of shock, “I might be in love with you too.”

Now your body turns to face him fully, just as his hand moves to your cheek. He leans down, his lips meeting yours as your hands go to his sides, grabbing his sweater. You’ve kissed people before but with Sion it’s different (especially when he kisses back). You pull apart for breath, “Ok now this is our first kiss, the new year's one doesn't count.” You laugh in response, “Deal.”

Sion engulfs you in a hug, the warm kind he’s always given you. His arms wrap around your waist as yours encircle his neck. As you hug the two of you confess how much you missed each other all year. When the hug breaks he kisses you again and you can feel the smile on his lips.

All of a sudden your attention is brought back to your previous task, realising the hot chocolate must be getting cold. Sion watches you with adoration in his eyes as you turn back to the counter to finish stirring. The adoration has always been there, you’re just beginning to notice it.

It’s christmas day, you’re standing in your kitchen with the boy you love, and you finally know he loves you just the same. You’re excited for new years day, and every christmas after, because each one will be spent with him.

© 2024 FAE-RENJUN. All Rights Reserved. Do not copy or steal any of my posts. networks: @kstrucknet

[pukefactory]

Ok screw it i saw a thingy and might as well talk to someone about it I saw a love and deep space thingy about "The darker side of dating {Blank Character here} and that got me thinking "Wth would be the darker sides/down sides to dating BBQ Ena? - 💖🍫🦯

[I'm trying to get outta my comfort zone cuz I always worrying I'm bugging the people I ask stuff too lol cuz Overthinking and Void ik has been asking you stuff so it has made me kinda try to coke out of my own shell and do so. (they are a friend of mine that have asked you stuff in the past and in their own words "Honestly do it! I get scared talking to big bloggers too, but remember they're just people like us behind the screens :3 I'm sure they like getting interactions and asks" so might ask well to push myself a bit)]

Loving Dream BBQ ENA is a surreal commitment—part passion, part puzzle, and part performance art you never rehearsed for. She is not like anyone else; she is a girl stitched together with color blocks, emotional extremes, poetic contradictions, and unspoken griefs. To date her is to date the sky mid-weather-change—blissfully blue, then storming with no warning. One day, she’ll look at you like you’re her entire world, wax poetic about the shape of your eyelashes, kiss your forehead and call you her “quiet little earthquake.” The next, she’s dissociating in your arms, mumbling about paper boats and burnt calendars, unsure where she is or who she’s supposed to be.

She forgets things—not because she doesn’t care, but because her brain runs on a different kind of clock, one that ticks in skips and distortions. Sometimes she forgets dates, sometimes she forgets why she’s upset. Sometimes, she forgets how long you’ve been holding her hand. It hurts, not because she loves you any less, but because loving her means accepting that you will always be part of a dreamscape she’s half-drifting through. You are her anchor, her constant, and yet you will never fully exist in the same emotional plane she’s spiraling in. She needs you to remind her that she’s real.

There is also danger in her. Not malice, but entropy. She talks in riddles, shifts in mood like blinking lights, and sometimes you wonder if she’s unraveling faster than you can gather her threads. Her joy is chaotic and loud, all-consuming. Her sadness is an echo that swallows entire days. And when she’s overwhelmed—when the world presses too hard—she might lash out with words that feel more like sharp polygons than syllables. And then apologize with trembling sincerity and a handmade gift that makes no logical sense but still makes your heart ache.

Dating ENA means laughter so intense it gives you headaches, emotions so raw they strip you bare, and conversations that border on existential riddles. It means grounding her when she forgets where she ends and the world begins. It means offering your patience again and again, even when she spirals. It means living in technicolor chaos. It means watching someone try to be human even when every part of her code says not to be.

It means loving someone who is, at her core, a glitching miracle. And choosing to stay anyway.

(Don’t worry about interacting with me! I’m just an autistic woman who enjoys writing, much like many others—there’s nothing particularly intimidating about me, haha. I’m not a popular blogger, or at least I don’t think I am? Maybe I am, but I genuinely don’t pay attention to that, and neither should you! If you have a question, feel free to ask :3)

[love44lew]

{day one: if i was a worm☙}

彡drivers lewis hamilton, lando norris, charles leclerc

彡genre oneshots, multiple drivers x reader, scenarios

彡summary you ask your boyfriend an odd but very important question

၊၊||၊ i know im terrible at keeping up with calendars, kinktober for example (im sorry 😫) but its only 14 days this time and im getting a early start so lets hope we’re consistent now🙂‍↕️၊၊||၊

彡warnings none!!

—————-

lewis

you were scrolling on your phone when you came across a reel of a girl asking her boyfriend if she would still love her as a worm, so why not ask your boyfriend? you made your way to the living room where lewis was tiredly sprawled out on the soft cushions of the couch, the sight of him half asleep on his phone making you giggle internally.

“lewis..” you called softly, his eyebrow rising as he moved his phone from his face which he held closely like an old man.

“yes baby” his raspy low voice sent tingles down your spine as you nibbled your lip

“would-“

“theres leftovers in the fridge, i put all the dishes away, yes the wifi is working just reset your phone, i found your lost airpod and i put it in the case, and yes, i’ll still love you if you were a worm” he cut you off abruptly before you can interrogate him. lewis is pretty much immune to confrontation since he’d much rather just get everything done right away then just sit around procrastinating.

“i want take out—“

“its done” you stood there in silence with your mouth agape. how is he SO good??

“anything else?” you watched him as he stood up and reached his arms to the celling, his bones popping and cracking with each stretch. he must’ve been there on the couch for a while.

“can i suck your dick?” you mumbled under your breath as lewis stepped towards you.

“hm?” lewis hummed as he slowly leaned to your side and kissed your jaw as snugly rests his hands on your waist

“uhm- w-what should we get?” youd kind of hoped he heard what you said, because gosh did he deserve it

lewis slowly leans to your ear, “if you wanna do that princess, ima need you to speak up” his breath is warm against your lobe, warmth that travels through your entire body.

lando

you were scrolling through tiktok with one hand and the other entangled in your mans curly hair as he rested peacefully between your thighs. his arms wrapped around your leg as he held his phone and scrolled through his explore page on instagram.

you come across this video of someone asking their significant other the hot question of the month, “would you love me if i was a worm”

you glanced down at your unsuspecting boyfriend with a smirk, brilliant way to get back at him for all those pranks.

“honey,” you called for his attention as you ruffled his hair. his head immediately looked up from his phone and at you “you weren’t sleeping were you?”

“no, i wasn’t. what is it darling?”

“i have a question i want you to answer honestly”

he adjusted himself and rested on his elbow, with you now having his full attention. “yeah? what is it?”

“would you still love me if i was a worm?” you asked the golden question, almost allowing a smirk but immediately catching yourself.

his his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the hell are you talking about?

“is this a trick question” lando raised an eyebrow at you.

“well if you think it is—“ you turned your head and response.

he stared at you for a second before answering “yes..? i dunno”

“that wasn’t very honest sounding” you interrogated

“well then, you really want to know my honest answer ?”

“yes!” you abruptly responded, curious on his genuine answer

“well, i wouldn’t know it was you and i hhaaaattteeeee bugs..” he looked you up and down before continuing “it would depend where i would find you as a worm though..” he hesitantly finished his sentence

you smacked his shoulder “what does that mean you dingus?” you barked,

lando held his shoulder from the pain “owww why did you hit me” he pouted, his cute sad face stinging your heart

“because..”

“what did you want me to say? no!?” landos voice cracked as he argued,

“i would’ve preferred that over ‘it depends’” you quoted your fingers and lowered your voice to imitate his.

“dont leave me guessing” you frowned

“darling— i didnt mean it like that” his voice softened, hes so easily weakened by you. one little whine and hes showering you with kisses and love and has already bought you a new game for your wii before you could even tell him whats wrong.

he took your hand and kissed your palm and fingers and down your wrist and forearm.

he adjusted himself again for easy access to your neck brushing his nose on the crook before made his way up to your ear where he gently nibbled on the edge, which earned him a chuckle from you, “heyy that tickles !”

air blew from his nose as a smile cracked through. he moved his lips to your cheek and basically motorboated your face until you were laying on your back dying laughing.

“mmm there it is” he smiled down at you as your cheeks burned partially from smiling and other part from the attack on your face.

“what” you mustered to say through a series of dying down chuckles

“that smile” he caressed your face “pretty girl, i love you as you are, okay?” he confessed quietly, as if he was telling you a secret as he leaned down and finally connected his lips with yours.

charles

you and charles were on one of your routine strolls in the park with leo. charles hand cocooned your smaller one as you were side by side.

leo stopped at a tree to do his business and while the two of you waited for him, you had spotted a butterfly, swallowtail to be specific.

you stood and stared at its wings happily flock around the flowers surrounding the tree, pollinating them. beautiful things like this always put you in a state of pondering.

“mon coeur? what are you thinking about?” charles squeezed your hand, calling for your attention.

“hm? oh! look char, its a butterfly” you pointed at the colorful bug that has now calmly rested on a blade of grass.

“ohh, pretty” charles was now admiring it with you, its small torso and wide wings as well captivating him. leo also noticed, now trying to catch it by jumping up with his mouth agape.

your thoughts continued though as your eyes stayed fixed on your boyfriend. a random, stupid question ate at you though: would he still love you as a bug?

or not a bug, but something or someone who wasn’t you. like what if you were a cute little golden mutt like leo or maybe even a butterfly just flocking around, hide originally meant to fend off predators, now a pinnacle of beauty in nature. what if you werent as fortunate to be born as cute or beautiful, what if you were just a worm? their only survival instinct is to dig in damp mud as a birds preying beak chomped at their tail. a silly concept to think of. how could he love you if you were just a mere bug? the running question of if youd be still deserving of love if you were something as minuscule and overlooked as a worm.

you’re more than greatful to have someone like him in your life, he was your rock—the love of your life. everyday you could be more convinced that this was it, hes the one. even right now, as your gaze stays locked on him simply admiring another external matter, you could feel your heart beating happily at the feeling of being around him. you love his soul, and your soul can follow you anywhere—so if your soul wasn’t in this body, but in one less noticeable than one of a human, would you still be worthy of receiving love?

such a decrepit topic to think of.

your reluctantly averted your gaze from charles, now youre focused back on the butterfly— or now butterflies since there was two now. Leo obviously was going crazy so you’d let him free so he can frolic around in the grass while you’d found a bench to rest on and charles followed.

“okay, now back to you..” charles started

“yes..” you sighed, you’d hoped he had already forgotten catching you in deep thought

“your face, somethings on your mind..” his fingers carefully caressed along your cheek “you can tell me anything” his eyes with softened with worry

your heart fluttered and the butterflies that you’d just seen now occupied your stomach, you could honestly kiss him right now.

“well.. uhm” you averted your eyes, his gaze currently making you nervous and overwhelmed with emotion.

“hm?” he hummed

“its stupid..” your face flushed

“when have i thought anything you have said was stupid”

“i dunno you think it but you could say something different” you shrugged

charles guided your chin to face him

“mon beau cygne, je t’adore. i couldnt think you were anything less than what you are” his voice sang to you like your favorite song, it is your favorite song. you’d kept eye contact for a couple seconds, the words everlasting their meaning the deeper you looked into his eyes.

“okay, okay fine. i’ll tell you for a kiss” without hesitation charles leaned in, his soft lips brushed over yours teasingly before taking yours in his. the kiss was soft and light, quick but not at all rushed. as he pulled away his mouth lingered over yours, his warm breath still shadowing the kiss he’d just left.

“now tell me” he whispered and then pulled away, resting his back on the bench.

“uhm.. do you believe our souls are beyond just our bodies?” you asked shyly

“i mean yeah that could be a possibility, but in what way?” charles questioned

“like even after we die, they still follow us to the next life”

“hmm.. well” he paused, pondering the concept “i dont really like to think about what happens after death, if you know what i mean” he shrugs before continuing

“makes me queasy” he let out a half chuckle.

you dont blame charles for his vague response, hes never been very fond of the topic of death because of personal experience with loved ones. you even feel bad now for bringing it up when he was in such a good mood, but also he insisted.

“whats got you thinking about death on a day like this, mon cœr?” he tapped your side, gaining your focus once again.

“i wasn’t originally thinking about death, i just brought it up so i can get to what i wanna ask you” you shifted your body so you were now facing him. almost instinctively charles hand rests on whatever body part he can touch—in this case your arm as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“um do you think— would you..” you tried to collect your words since delivery of the question would be critical to charles’s understanding of what you wanted from him.

“do you think you’d still love me if my soul wasn’t in this body, like if i wasn’t me but i was still.. me?” your face scrunched as you questioned your own delivery, now that its leaving your thoughts you also had a hard time understanding what you wanted to say in the first place.

“are you asking if we’re soulmates?” charles tilted his head with his eyebrows furrowed

“…pretty much, yeah” you nodded

“then yes, because soulmates are meant to find each other no matter what, and my soul is always looking for you cara mia” his hand reached up to caress your cheek and you couldnt help but kiss his hand. you’re once again reminded on why you chose him, he couldn’t have given you a more satisfying answer than that.

charles gestured for you to get closer and planted a soft kiss on your nose and next to your mouth before slightly pulling away searching for approval in your eyes, lightly touching your lips with his own once he received it.

every kiss you’d received from him felt like there was an atomic bomb going off in your heart. you felt like you could simply grow wings and fly away just from how high you were off your own love for him.

“je t'aime de tout mon cœur” he whispered to you between kisses

you pulled away to look in his eyes again, greenish-blue eyes that had always captivated you.

“qu'est-ce que c'est mon amour?” charles asked with his voice still in a soft tone, his fingers now brushing your hair away from your face.

“nothing, i love you too charlie” you smiled, charles leaned in for another kiss until a familiar bark was heard close by. you and charles looked down to see a fussy leo demanding for love as well.

“i think he wants some love too” you picked him up and placing him in your lap, which he’d jumped up to kiss your chin. you and charles giggled at his energy filled antics. charles leaned down to give leo some love too, while you smiled at the both of them. they’re the exact same.

The blonde and the brunette always competing for your love, little did they know you loved them both the same. you placed one hand on leo and another on charlies head, petting your two boys, now assured the both of them would love you no matter what.