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crazyunsexycool · 6 months ago

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Now we know that Steve is a giant softie.

Imagine Honey being heavily pregnant with bee and she is not comfortable at all. Hence she gets a pregnancy pillow to help her sleep better.

Who knew that steeb would get jealous of a non living object like a pillow!!

He's so jealous of this pillow! How can his girl feel more comfortable with this stupid pillow and not him?! Offcourse he's the best cuddler! He'd be all grumpy because he's not able to cuddle Honey because of this pillow!

Hahahahaha!! Poor Steve. He finally got his girl and now some pillow is taking his place.

Pregnancy Pillow

Warning: pregnancy talk.

A/N: also I know I said I’d call Sugar from MLL Mrs. B but it feels so formal to use it all the time and I remembered that Steve calls her Magnet and I think ppl calling her Mags would make more sense than Mrs. B so Mags is Sugar lolol

Steve walked in to his shared home with you after a long day of work. He was excited to wash the day away and spend the evening with you. Without much thought Steve walked into the living room where he knew he’d find you. Since you had started your second trimester, every day without fail, you’d take a nap. It was a running joke between the two of you that the couch had been laced with a sleep aid because every that sat there would eventually get sleepy.

Just what he thought, Steve found you on the comfy couch but this time he noticed the huge pillow you were surrounded by. You looked so comfortable in that moment but Steve frowned slightly at the thought that he couldn’t sit and place your head on his lap. Still Steve leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to your temple before heading to take a shower.

When he came back down you were in the kitchen drinking some water. You smiled at Steve as he got closer and placed a hand on your growing belly.

“Hi honey, how was your day?” He says before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Good and uneventful. How was your training?”

“Good, same as always with the new trainees. They want to impress me and go overboard.” Steve grabs some water for himself. “How was your nap? You looked comfortable.”

You smile and sigh.

“It was amazing. Mags got me the pregnancy pillow and it’s so comfortable. I love it.”

“That was nice of her.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait to use it in bed. I bet I’ll sleep even better with it.”

“Excuse me, what?” Steve looked genuinely horrified at the thought of that pillow in your shared bed. “That thing isn’t going in our bed.”

You immediately pout and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why not? It’s comfortable.”

“Well you have me. Don’t you want to cuddle anymore?” It was Steve’s turn to pout.

You move around to stand in front of Steve and you grab both his hands. “My darling you know I love to cuddle up with you but I haven’t been sleeping that well. I just need the extra support.”

Steve groans but accepts that your comfort is more important than some cuddles. You get up on your toes and kiss his cheek before leaving to place your new pillow on your bed.

****

For weeks Steve had to watch you get comfortable with that damn pillow. Bucky had told him that it was the best and worst thing ever invented. Steve could only agree. While he was more than happy for you to get a more comfortable sleep, he hated being separated from you.

You on the other hand couldn’t stop giggling at the hatred Steve had toward an inanimate object. He would glare at the pillow every chance he could. And you’re sure that if he could, Steve would burn that pillow just so that he never had to see it again.

It wasn’t until Steve had come back injured from a mission that he finally understood the comfort of the stupid pillow. Steve woke up from a nap after being discharged from the medbay and he was surprised when he found himself wrapped up with the pillow.

“You seem comfortable.” You giggle as you enter your room.

Steve tried to push the pillow away but it was too late. You'd already seen him and now he knew that you would never let him live it down. He tried to move to help you get into bed but with how hurt he was he could only sit by and watch you wiggle your way into a comfortable position.

"C'mere." You open your arms and Steve settles in next to you.

His hand immediately lands on your swollen belly and he sighs happily while you play with his hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, now that I get you to myself."

"You've have me to yourself all the time." You say with a smile.

"Not with that monstrosity in the way."

You laugh again. "The baby will be here faster than you think and soon that pillow will be gone from our bed. Just hold on a little longer."

"I'm burning it after Bee is born."

You huff a laugh. "You can't burn it."

"Why not?"

"Well," you feel flustered just at the thought. "What if we have more kids? I'm going to need it again."

Steve pulls back to get a better look at you. His eyes are soft and full of love.

"You want to have more kids?"

"Yes, maybe. Only if you do too."

Steve gives you a lopsided grin and rests his head against your chest. "I guess the pillow stays."

#A love as sweet as honey extra #Steve rogers x reader #dad!Steve rogers #Honeybee Rogers

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laangdonn · 1 year ago

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hot trains

summary: peeta & katniss find comfort in each other when they can’t sleep on the victory tour.

pairing: catchingfire!peeta mellark x katniss everdeen

a/n: wrote this on a train myself lolol so y’know i was immersed.

*************************

katniss’s bed was comfy, but her body wasn’t.

she was tangled in the mustard silk sheets, large pillows encasing her in the large expanse of the mattress. her skin flamed with heat, hair stuck to her forehead with slick sweat. twisting and turning to find a cold spot in the bed, anything to relieve her skin from the unbearable heat flashes that came from not being able to sleep.

the victory tour had been an absolute nightmare so far. every day on the train was an extension of her misery in the games. it was insufferable having to speak in front of the families whom had lost loved ones at katniss’s hands. she knew peeta felt the same, he’d been quieter than usual since the tour began.

effie insisted she try and rest after the events of district 11, the stop katniss had been dreading the most. and it went worse than she expected, the brutality, sorrow, and complete angst of the events had taken its toll. effie was out of her mind if she thought katniss could get any shut-eye.

and apparently so was katniss herself, because here she was, the dim twilight of the morning grazing the curtains of her windows. and she was alone. still unable to sleep.

another thirty minutes passed, and katniss had officially given up on the futile attempt at rest. with a huff, she stood up, slicking her damp hair back and running a hand down her hot face. the silk nightgown she wore stuck to her body, making her cringe with each step out of her room.

luckily, the lounge was chilly, a relief from the stifling heat of her bedroom. katniss slowly felt her body get cooler, goosebumps arising on her skin as she took a seat at the empty bar.

she played with a chip in the marble, a flaw that made her eyebrows raise. the capitol isn’t so perfect, are they? she thought to herself, chuckling under her breath.

just as she’d ripped the loose piece of stone off the bar top, her perfect was disrupted, the sound of a train door rustling open cutting through her silence.

katniss didn’t bother turning around, recognizing the footsteps as they approached her instantly.

peeta took a seat next to her, clearing is throat awkwardly.

“i didn’t know you were awake.” he said first.

she kept her eyes trained on the chip she rolled under the pads of her fingers, “i didn’t know you were, either.”

he shifted in his seat, “i sit out here every night.”

“it was hot in my room,” katniss announced, suddenly feeling the need to explain why she was invading his space. “i had to get out.”

“me too,” he agreed, “can’t sleep?”

she nodded. and they stayed silent for a while.

“are you thirsty?” his soft voice asked, purring in katniss’s ears.

“sure.”

he stood up, going behind the bar to grab two glasses. he handed her one and they sipped, staring at each other over the cup rim.

“good water,” she mumbled, wanting to say something.

he nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at his lips. “capitol water.”

“it’s cold,” the words tumbled off her tongue before she could stop them. she suddenly became aware that her hands and shoulders were shaking.

peeta’s eyes glanced over her figure, “do you want my robe?” he gestured to the thin, grey cardigan he wore over his pajamas.

she knew it wouldn’t be much to stop her shivering, but she also knew peeta wouldn’t allow her to refuse.

the warm fabric encased her arms, goosebumps retreating back into her skin. katniss found it unfathomable she was so hot just a bit earlier.

“better?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

she nodded, biting her lip. she couldn’t pretend not to notice the way his eyes lingered on her, the prospect of her in his clothes probably made his mind spin. it smelled like him, his musk. it made her knees weak, for some reason.

“we should try to get back to bed,” peeta suggested, gaze peering behind katniss to the window that was now brightened by a soft orange light, no longer blue with the fading darkness.

but she didn’t want to go back to bed. in fact, she would much rather stay here, cold but wrapped in something of him. her heart dropped, dreading her bed and her room and those ugly yellow sheets.

“no!” she blurted, noticing he started getting up at her silence. her cheeks flushed pink, “i- i mean, i think the air conditioning in my room is broken.”

peeta looked stuck, looking from the exit door to his room and katniss, before he too, blushed like a young child confessing a crush. “you could sleep in my room, only if you want.”

katniss didn’t know if that’s what she wanted him to say, but by the way her heart picked up and her mind raced, she wasn’t opposed to it.

“thanks,” she said, suddenly uncomfortable in her seat.

she followed him to his room, the air still cold and his sheets even colder.

this wouldn’t be the first time they slept next to each other, the nightmares she’s been having since the tour started causing him to run into her room, panicked, asking if she’s okay. and all she wants is him and his comfort. she’d lay her head on his thumping chest and try to forget the dream where his heart was stagnant.

but this was different. he willingly asked her to come to his room, no nightmares forcing them together, just the two of them on pure will. katniss couldn’t help the sigh and smile of relief when her body melted under the thick duvet, warming her skin perfectly.

peeta slipped next to her, inching closer and closer until her head lightly grazed his rib cage. they kept both their arms at their sides, not wanting to overstep but still, craving touch.

the tension was so thick between them, compressing against katniss’s chest like her lungs would collapse if she didn’t make a move. so she did, hoisting herself higher against him till her head was above his heart and her forearm was draped across his stomach.

she felt him take a sharp breath at her sudden shift, his lungs deflating slowly as he eased into her. his strong arm slowly wrapped itself around her waist, the two now tangled together. by their own design.

“i feel like i cant sleep without you,” katniss confessed, her words muffled by his shirt.

she felt his chest rumble under her ear as he chuckled lightly, “neither can i.”

“so let’s not,” she lifted her head to look at him suddenly, sunlight illuminating the side of his face, his favorite color blending into his complexion and glittering in his blue eyes like shimmering sparkles. “let’s always sleep together.”

it could’ve been the lack of sleep talking, or the fact that his bed was just so comfortable, she couldn’t fathom her own. but this was truth that fell past her teeth. this was real.

he broke their eye contact to let his gaze flicker to her lips, only for a split second. but she didn’t miss it. his words were breathy as he whispered,

“always,”

#peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #thg #the hunger games #catching fire #victory tour #comfort #peeta x katniss fluff #peeta x katniss angst #peeta x katniss imagine #peeta x katniss fanfic #josh hutcherson #peeta x katniss

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marshmallowprotection · 2 months ago

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How do you rank RFA members in terms of loud sleeping? I mean snoring, moving around a lot, possibly even sleep mumbling, etc?

I think Jumin and Saeyoung sleep quietly. But for some reason, I think Yoosung is the middle ground. Not extremely loud but occasionally will mumble something while dreaming (it’d be hilarious if it pertained to LOLOL or Saeyoung’s pranks)

GE Saeran, undeniably has nightmares and night terrors. Even when things are going better for him, that doesn't mean he can get away from the trauma he's been subjected to his entire life. He likes to cuddle when he's awake and when he's going to sleep, but there's a reason why he prefers to be a little spoon if he can help it and that's because he thrashes in his sleep sometimes when he's terrified and he doesn't want to hurt you.

His brother is the same way. The only difference between the two of them is that Saeyoung has trained himself to remain completely quiet during these episodes and he doesn't thrash around. It's self-contained, but it's certainly not easy to witness by any means because his discomfort is written all over his face. You wouldn't know that he's a horrible sleeper because he knows how to pretend he's not. He talks in his sleep when he's more comfortable around someone.

Jumin sleeps comfortably. I don't know what it is about him but I do see him as somebody who sleeps on his back for a perfect 8 hours. That's not to say he doesn't toss and turn on the rough nights, but relatively speaking he doesn't move around too much! It's Elizabeth you need to worry about. She's everywhere and you're never going to be able to escape her stretchy paws.

Jihyun is the same. I feel like he sleeps like the dead and you're going to need to really look at him to see if he's breathing. Occasionally, he has nightmares about the fire that cause him to bolt awake, that's the worst his brain can cook up. You would think he wouldn't be able to get some rest because of everything else on his mind, but he works himself up to the point of dreamless exhaustion most of the time. It's the nightmares about his accident that get him. Snores like a dad, I don't make the rules.

Zen's got a full time skin care routine and I know he sleeps as good as he can. He makes sure to set up all kinds of measures to sleep as well as he can, but sometimes, it's not the best. It depends on how late he was awake studying his lines... sometimes he gets carried away and that causes restlessness. He doesn't toss and turn too much, but he has his moments. He's a cuddle-bug. Brace yourself for that one. He's also warm, too... but just the right kind of warm.

Jaehee sleeps similarly to Jihyun, but she only bolts awake in the middle of the night because she fell asleep at her desk and realized "Mr. Han wanted those reports before sunrise!" Even if there weren't reports due, she's trained herself to get up quickly and that doesn't do a lot of good for her psyche. For what it's worth, she has trained her body to wake up in time for tickets... she doesn't toss and turn, unless she's having a nightmare about reports... and cats... and well, Elizabeth's sleeping over again.

Yoosung is the middle road, I think. He's not a quiet sleeper but he's not a loud sleeper, either. When he's having a really restful night, he drools all over his pillow. He can toss and turn with the best of them some nights, and he has found himself awake on the floor in a mess of blankets before... and then there's the nights when he bolts awake because he just realized Saeyoung asked him something silly and it's never going to leave his head because he doesn't know the answer.

Rika is a blanket hog. She will leave you to freeze for the rest of the night and she won't think twice about it.

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #mysticmessenger #mm #character analysis

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expecto-kedavra · 1 year ago

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Hi i love your MC's man bun lolol

but i was wondering if i could request a male mc ravenclaw piece where he is trying to work through trauma caused from ranrok? also could you use me/i perspective cause i've never seen that written for HL on here

the longer the better!

First off, thank you! Second, this was a great first ask as I myself am a male Ravenclaw/Slytherin who has dealt with trauma ✌️I HOPE ITS NOT TOO LONG 😂

RAVENCLAW M!MC DEALING WITH THE AFTER EFFECTS OF RANROK

!Warning! - insomnia, nightmares, grieving over death, loved ones dying, PTSD.

4,257. That's how many stars were on my Ravenclaw dormitory ceiling. I had long memorized the constellations before all of this, and I quite wished I hadn't. It would be another wonderful way to pass the time. I sat up on my bunk, and let out a large, dramatic exhale. I looked down at Amit, and chuckled as I saw him drooling into his pillow. It was a wonder that he was able to sleep with the dragon that was Everett snoring in the bunk on the other side of the room. I always managed before, but not now. Not anymore. I usually don't dream, and if I did it was something ridiculous like Sebastian turning into a Runespoor. It started the night of Ranrok. The night he attacked Hogwarts. The night Professor Fig...left.

It had been six months since the events underneath the school. Six months since the nightmares began. The first time it happened, I thought I was awake. I was in Hogsmeade, but it was...different. There was a low fog covering everything. From out of it walked Victor Rookwood. "Impossible. You're dead!" I screamed at him. He let out a low, cruel chuckle. "Arrogant child. Thinking death is the end." He grabbed my shoulder and we disappeared into a writhing black mess of flames. I dropped onto the floor of the Final Repository, right in front of the demonic dragon that was Ranrok. I barely could stand before I was incinerated by a massive black wave of heat, death and pain. Then I woke up. They all started like this, for the first week or so. Then they got worse. I could handle those ones. I couldn't handle the ones that came after. The ones with my friends. At first it was Professor Fig, and I had hope. I thought he would save me, just as he had so many times before. I was foolish to think that. Ranrok eviscerated him. I was left to grieve again, crying over his body as the ghostly forms of Rookwood and Ranrok cackled over me, telling me how I will always fail. Of course it got worse after that. It was no longer Fig, but my friends. Sebastian, Ominis, Amit, Poppy, Samantha...all dying horrible and painful deaths, while the ghosts of my enemies laughed at my failure to protect them. It was easier to just stay awake. Brewed several wakefullness potions in the room every day, so it wasn't hard to keep myself up. It was dreadfully boring though.

Eventually the morning caught up with my thoughts and it was luckily time to head to class. Classes were easy. Like Fig always said, I had an affinity for magic, which meant I seemed to absorb everything and didn't have much struggle with anything. Unfortunately, I seemed to always drift off into my own thoughts, which would always lead me back to Fig. How he gave his all, literally to his death, to help me seal the repository. I hadn't been down there since. As soon I decided to pay a visit tonight, Professor Hecat called on me. "And MC, could you tell us the difference between a Lethifold and a Dementor?" She looked at me with that knowing look she always had, like she was fully aware of everything I was thinking. "A Lethifold is classified as a Beast, and eats its victims, whereas a Dementor is a non-being and sucks out the soul of its prey." I effortlessly answered. "Correct, and how do we repel them both should they cross our path?" She knew that I knew this. Why did she ask? "A patronus charm." I'd never cast a patronus before. Quite frankly I'm unsure if I'd be able to. "Correct again. Points to Ravenclaw." she beamed. "We must remember that happiness is subjective, and often finds itself accompanied by other emotions, even sadness." Again she looked deeply at me, almost studying my very thoughts. "That is all for today, class dismissed!" I couldn't help but feel her piercing eyes follow me out of class.

"MC!" I heard from behind me. It was Samantha Dale, one of my closest friends. "Hey, Sammy. How are you?' I asked. "Doing well, thank you. I was wondering if you'd join me in the gardens? I'd like to ask you something about..uh...nature." she seemed to stumble over the last mouthful. "Oh, sure. I'd think you wouldn't need any assistance in that area, you're an expert." Something seemed a bit out of place, but I didn't press for more. Turns out she needed help identifying a beehive, and if Glumbumbles had infested it. They hadn't. Once we had concluded, I turned to head out of the gardens and on to Charms. I was called back by Samantha. "You are stronger than you know." she said. That was what Fig said before I summoned everything within me to seal the repository. Why did she say that? I abruptly turned, confused. "Thank you." I managed to get out. The thought barraged my brain...why did she say that?

The rest of the day was uneventful. I visited Hogsmeade with Natty, and helped Poppy with some Kneazle trouble. Darkness fell, and after I was certain everyone was asleep, I headed down to the Map Chamber with the assistance of a disillusionment charm. When I reached the large sleeping dragon statue, I was startled to see someone there. Professor Hecat. "Welcome." she said. I removed my charm. No doubt her years as an Unspeakable had fine tuned her senses. It was useless to try and pass. "Lovely night, isn't it?" she said, rather gently. "If one can avoid Peeves and his flaming pins, I'd say so." I replied. She laughed. "Yes, well I suspect you have something and someone to attend to. I'll leave you to it." This lady will always astound and confuse me. "I suppose so, Professor." I responded, trying to keep the confusion out of my voice. Who was she talking about? The portraits? She was there for the battle of the repository, so I knew that she had met the Keepers. I picked my brain as to any other hidden meanings she may have been trying to allude to as I made my way down the spiraling stone stairs. I decided she must have meant the Keepers and they must have some new knowledge or task for me. I was wrong.

Once I entered the Map Chamber, I was greeted by four very empty portraits. "Strange." I muttered to myself. I pushed Professor Hecat's cryptic words to the back of my head and meandered down to the repository. Sealed, blue and glowing, as it should be. I could feel the power emanating from it. So much pain. literally, went into it. So much loss...and luckily, so much more prevented. I shuddered at the thought of Ranrok gaining that power. It would be my nightmares come to life. Right as I sat in front of it, a warm, familiar voice rang through the cold air.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" I turned with a start, wand drawn. Once I saw who was speaking to me, it clattered to the floor. "Professor Fig?" I croaked. His pale ghostly form stood just a few feet in front of me. Well, hovered, not stood. "Yes, my young friend." I apologize I didn't present myself to you sooner, but I wanted to speak to you here. I enlisted the help of some friends to get you here." His voice was just as comforting as I remembered. Suddenly, Samantha and Professor Hecat's words all made sense. "I'm sorry, Professor." I tried to force down the lump in my throat. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." I fell to the ground, and six months of emotions poured out of my eyes. I felt him kneel beside me. Even as a ghost, he felt warm. "Do not burden yourself with this shame my friend. It is not your fault." His tone was reassuring. "But if I did more, if I tried harder.." I choked through sobs. "Maybe you'd still be here." I looked at him, and saw him smile. "My dear, young friend. You are stronger than you know. You saved so many souls. Do you know why some of us become ghosts?" He mused. I gathered myself. "Yes, when we have unfinished things that our souls cling to after death. Like that poor chap who has to run away from his wife, the one with the ax." I couldn't help but chuckle. "Precisely, and do you know why it is that I am here before you?" He asked, in that very professor-ly tone. "I can't say I do sir." He responded before I could even get the words out. "You, my dear MC." he said lovingly. "Me?" I sniffed. "Yes." he chuckled. "I never told you how much you meant to me. I had may students over many years. None like you." "What none of them could wield an ancient and powerful magic?" I joked. "Of course not, but that's not what I mean. You were more than just a student to me. You were my friend, and my adventure companion. You constantly were impressing me, not only with your magical abilities, but your kindness, cleverness, and incredible sense of love for the world." He stopped abruptly, as though he was swallowing his own lump in his throat. "Miriam's death left me devastated and alone. This pain I shoved deep down, but it still seemed to leave me a tad bitter. Once you came along, however, I found myself laughing and smiling once again. Miriam truly would have loved you, my friend. As I did." I looked at his face, and saw tears streaming down his cheeks. "If I may, you were a son to me. And I am beyond proud of you. You will change the world." As soon as he ended his sentence, a brilliant yellow light filled the room. I shielded my eyes, and saw a figure emerging out of the brilliant golden aura. A short, older witch with a straw hat and half-moon glasses. She had an infectious smile and the kindest eyes I'd ever seen. Miriam. I saw Professor Fig rise to meet her, and take her hand. "I have said what I needed to say. Good luck, my young, capable friend." with that, he turned and entered the light, hand in hand with his beloved. "Now I shall rest." The light faded. I laughed to myself, and wiped the dried tears from my cheeks. "Yeah, me too Professor." and rest I did. The best sleep I'd had in a very long time.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy oc #professor fig #x reader #y/n #male mc #wizarding world #ravenclaw #gryffindor #hufflepuff #slytherin #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #harry potter universe

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 5 months ago

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okay after that tag game I can’t help but think about my faves as cats. I need to ramble now.

Giyuu: cute all black cat. Hair on the longish side, but surprisingly easy to care for. He’s an overall chill cat. Maybe a little too chill. Sometimes you really wander what’s going on in his head, he’s been staring at that same spot on the wall for a hour now. Not amused much by toys. Will go crazy for crinkly ones but gets of them quite easily and just paws at it gently instead of flinging it across the room and chasing after it like he was moments ago. Occasionally gets him stuck in places he can’t get himself out of. He was just curious. And now regrets it. Seems almost humanly embarrassed whenever you gotta help him out. He loves sitting on your lap and chest. He’ll knead your chest too. Always wants to be near you and see what you’re doing. He will follow you into the bathroom. NO closed doors in this household. He’ll press his nose against the door and meow so loud and sad until you open it up. His meow quickly turning cute and innocent.

Aki: Little brat tbh LMAO. All black short hair cat. He’s a petty ass cat. He will knock your water off your table if you fed him two minutes late. Loves cuddles though, so clingy. Has a real nice loud and deep purr. Looovvesss scritches on the chin, he does the whole eye squint and pushing his head out to get more. He’ll knead on you too. He don’t care, he wanna use your thigh, even if you didn’t cut his claws yet. He’s finally being affectionate, you gotta smile through the pain. He only wants attention once HE demands it. He’s the cuddliest thing when he approaches you first. But you see him sitting all cute in his tower and want to come up and pet him?? WHACK. He likes to sleep in bed with you every night though. And he INSISTS on sharing your pillow. If it snows where you live, he likes to watch the snowflakes through the window. He’ll walk around in the snow if you put him out there but he’s doing the whole one step *shake foot* one step *shake foot* and that’s about all he’ll do. He’s (slowly) walking back into the house. Jumps on your shoulder and watches you cook.

Kento: one of them fancy spotted ones. I’ll look up the specifies later. Idk what kinds of temperaments those kinds of cats would have. But this is Kento energy now so it don’t matter bc I said so. He’s the most easy going cat anybody would ever own. He’s why the stereotype of cats being “fully independent pets” came from. Barely vocal, he’s a very quiet cat. He’ll only speak once it’s getting close to his feeding time. You always feed him at 6pm?? He’s meowing politely and sitting patiently at his bowl at exactly 5:50 to remind you it’s almost time to feed him and to not be late. Just about as affectionate as Aki. He needs his alone time, and will come to you when he’s craving cuddles again. Has a real deep purr, low and sometimes you either gotta feel him or lean in close to hear his purrs. He always smells so good, he doesn’t really get stinky. He will clean himself after you kiss him lolol. He likes sitting on your lap. He’s also ALWAYS curious about what your cookin. He never wants to eat any of the food you give him to sniff, he simply just wants to sniff and watch lolol.

Shouta: such a sassy cat. Definitely a stray you randomly just came home with one day with no preparation whatsoever. Very very recluses cat. Doesn’t like hugs, doesn’t like being held. Doesn’t like being groomed bc it goes into being man handled. Such a soft little baby once he starts to warm up to you though (which definitely takes a while). Softly nudges your arm with his face, looking at you with big sad eyes bc he wants pets lolol. He never sits on top of you either, he’ll always be touching but never on top. When he does, it’s RARE!!! Maybe once a year. And it will be your chest when you’re sleeping lolol. Snooziest cat, he doesn’t like toys, he almost looks like he finds them ridiculous. Old man in a cats body. WILL make himself comfy. Bought him a bed? Nah, your blanket and pillows are better.

#I am too lazy to edit any of this #so take my raw thoughts #as you can see I’m crazy #about my faves and cats #crimsonkenjii rambles

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rfaromance · 1 year ago

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You're telling me Yoosung has to make eye contact with A KOMAEDA BODY PILLOW?

Sometimes when he stays up too late gaming and crawls into bed, he sees Komaeda staring at him from the dark corners of his room and screams his head off.

Yoosung doesn't get much sleep on those nights, and we can't entirely blame LOLOL. (I, too, would scream if Komaeda popped out of my closet unexpectedly.)

#anon #yoosung kim #thanks for the ask!

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irisintheafterglow · 11 months ago

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iris!! i am coming here with soft, cold pillows and warm socks for the comfiest sleep ever!!! ☁️🧦 i hope you’re having the loveliest weekend so far 🥺

i am so curious (again!!! if this isn’t too private…🤭), between you and shouto who is the blanket hogger? who runs colder? warmer? 🥺 who tucks their cold feet underneath the other?

sel i'm not even going to lie to you i run so warm all the time that it's ridiculous. during the summer i need the ac in our dorm to be super low or else i'm just walking around sweating everywhere 💀💀 but during the winter i think he would be the blanket hogger and then i would just hog,,,, him and his warm side lolol

i like the picture of being under the blankets with him but not being warm enough so you just mutter sleepily like

"babe."

"mmm?"

"warmer."

"mhmm."

and then he warms up his side and AAAAAAAAA anyways

i am sending you so much love and hugs !!!! thank you for dropping by !!!!!

#ask iris!

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boyfhee · 2 years ago

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GET TO KNOW ME GAME !

tagged by · @dearhee

tagging · @koishua @yujipg @amakumos literally don't have anyone to tag 🤣 just do this even if ur name isn't here

birthday: 25th may, i wish i shared it w someone

favourite colour: rose gold, gray rose / gray lavender, ice blue

do you have pets? no, but i do have a stray cat i feed and she basically lives in my backyard

how tall are you? no

how many pairs of shoes do you own? 😵‍💫 around 20

favourite song: sherlock ( oceanfromtheblue ) 긴밤 ( seori ft GIRIBOY ) mimi ( youra ) by my side ( junny ) i have so many help

favourite movie: interstellar, literally the best thing ever directed. also, these are not movies but 2521 ( kor. ) first love ( jap. ) threads our tapestry of love ( jap. )

who would be your ideal partner? lee heeseung yeah, he is the standard. but fr i like people who i can communicate with easily, without much issues ( i mean, we can understand each other ) the main thing i look for is probably, how they are under pressure or how they deal with things / serious things. this is very important to me because i need that person to be there when we're going through something so it's really important that they don't avoid problems ( besides, people like that annoy me help ) also someone who's fun but is also smart ? like, we can joke around and also discuss about something academic, it's fun. i mean i love to talk about interests and how things work, everything logical. i also like pretty ppl and heeseung is very, very pretty.

do you want children? ok i'm gonna be honest. like a few years ago, i was so against it, but now, i can consider. i mean, i'm not saying i will have kids in future, but i can consider. i can at least adopt one so yeah, can consider.

have you gotten in trouble with the law? no

what colour socks are you wearing? i don't wear socks off season ( no one here does )

favourite type of music: classical, but most recently added is krnb

how many pillows do you sleep with? one

what position do you sleep in? straight ?? it's good for posture

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping: noise. loud music, or talking too much. u want to talk, go do it somewhere i am not sleeping

what do you have for breakfast: fruits / fruit juice, milk ( with toast, optional ) on school days. when i'm home, i usually have a bowl of fruits with coffee ( odd choice, i know, but it really gets me through next 5-6 hours that are very crucial )

have you ever tried archery? except in amusement parks, no

favourite fruit: guavas, grapes, kiwis, bananas

are you a good liar? very, very good liar

what’s your personality type? intj, i like being smart fr

innie or outie? former

left handed or right handed? ambidextrous hehe i can write + draw with both hands ( love me for that )

favourite food: we have these dishes called pav bhaji & idli sambhar, honestly heaven

favourite foreign food: pasta ( creme cheese one especially )

am i clean or messy? both, more on the clean side

most used phrase: innit, "just like me fr," at the most random times, "help me" as a way to express delight "sweetheart," to call my friends help does that count?

how long does it take for you to get ready: 20 minutes, at most. i don't use makeup except eyeliner & gloss but even if i opt for anything more like blush or eyeshadow, it takes 30, at most

do you talk to yourself? it's a coping mechanism

do you sing to yourself? all the time

are you a good singer? i think? i mean, i passed 2 rounds of sm global auditions so that says something

biggest fear? yk deep water? where you aren't able to see anything except pure darkness? the eerie feeling it carries? that. it's not a phobia, but it's to the point that i get scared even by looking at it in pictures so i avoid those

are you a gossip? we all are, to an extent

do you like long or short hair? medium to long

favourite school subject: science, biology specifically ( zoology, in that ) and that's why im pursuing med lolol, also i love english, engineering graphics and math minus commercial mathematics and trig

extrovert or introvert: introvert but i talk quite a lot when i'm with family or with close friends ( the classic, yk )

what makes you nervous: doing something for the first time, going to a place i've never been, MAKING SPECIMEN SLIDES i swear i've spent my highschool years making microscope slides but it never fails to make me nervous like what !! if !! there's !! an !! air bubble !! v good at it but i still have tendencies to mess up

who was your first real crush? this guy from tenth grade, we went to a competition together from school and got lost in the city so ig that's where my feelings originated from

how many piercings? 2

how many tattoos? none

how fast can you run? idk bro but it's pretty decent

what colour is your hair? black

what colour are your eyes? black

what makes you angry: when i can't do something that i know i can do ( like when i mess up a painting, or some questions ) people who think they're entitled to everything, people who talk shit behind others ( i mean we all do that, but like, i dislike ppl who use others and then talk behind their back ) people who avoid responsibilities, PEOPLE WHO ARE CRUEL WITH ANIMALS i swear if u dont treat animals nicely you will have a miserable life

do you like your name? definitely

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? can't pick

what are your strengths? i am very, very calculative so i make decisions i do not regret ( slay ) my determination is through the roof, i've been told that i'm eloquent & clear with agenda which is such a plus point for me, i have experience with tons of things ( science, math, art & painting, music, dance, basketball, volleyball, swimming, cricket, badminton, chess, baking, finance, coding & computer science, writing, tutoring, public speaking, basically everything that my parents ever made me learn plus it's v fun tbh ) i can adapt quickly, i am amazing memorizing skills, quick learner

what are your weaknesses? i know i sound like im bragging in prev question, but i have so many weaknesses to cover my strengths up . major one being finding it hard to concentrate and staying motivated, getting things done on time, my laziness god i am so lazy. it's super hard for me to build a habit and ever harder to get rid of one, i can't cook for the life in me and i have so much trouble trying to mix up with new people

what is the colour of your bedspread? teal

colour of your room: one wall is pink while rest 3 are off white

#—games.#help this is so long

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awokennerd · 1 year ago

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Saw this post and decided to focus on the two ghosts who have the most amount of headcanon lore--Minerva (my warlock, Bubo’s, ghost) and Edgewise (my bf’s titan, Tripore’s, ghost). Over the years, we have slowly fleshed out what our ghosts would be like, often when the Ghost is involved, we try to identify which one of our ghosts is speaking. So yeah, we just have way too much lore about them lol.

Ghosts who refuse to heal their Guardians when they’re mad (in non-critical situations)

Totally Edgewise. He would get mad at Tripore for making Edgewise rezz him one too many times, so at the end of a battle, when he’s not too hurt, Edgewise just won’t heal him (Of course, it helps Edgewise knows Tripore has his warlock gf nearby to put down a well or rift for Tripore). Edgewise is like Saladin’s ghost, Isirah, who just believes that their guardian needs to just get good and not die so much.

Ghosts who insist they want to try out tons of ridiculous hobbies, or try to find some to do with their Guardian

Minerva is the one who is upset about the possible ballet fan, Rasputin, getting hurt in that one strike. Bubo is very much into drawing and sewing in her down time, especially drawing cause she can take it with her very easily on her ship. Meanwhile, her ghost loves the performing arts. Music. Ballet. Dancing. Plays. Minerva likes to float around doing little dances and volunteers at the Ghost Community Theater.

Ghosts who sneakily transmat things they like back to the ship, much to the surprise of their Guardian

Minerva and Bubo are hoarders of mementos, so yes, I can see this happening

Ghosts who like their own little cubby/space to spend time while their Guardian sleeps (it’s fully decorated)

I DREW A COMIC AND GAVE IT TO MY BOYFRIEND OF BUBO GETTING MINERVA AND EDGEWISE A LITTLE TERRARIUM FOR THE DAWNING. Of course Minerva absolutely adores it! Edgewise doesn’t like it, but secretly loves it and sometimes is caught sleeping in there when he thinks no one is looking but it's in a high-traffic part of the house, so he gets caught a lot. It has a little dreaming city tree and fairy lights and some small pillows and blankets. It's pretty lit. I need to draw just the concept art again and post it on here.

Ghosts that bonk their shells against their Guardian in frustration or playfulness

Definitely Minerva playfully.

Ghosts that hate each other, but their Guardians are best friends or lovers

MINVERA AND EDGEWISE ARE COMPLETE OPPOSITES LOLOL. They have to put up with each other now that their guardians are dating. Even worse was during the Red War, Bubo and Violet’s apartment (they were roommates when Bubo was a wee new light. Violet's apartment had a spare bedroom or two for hunter friends who wanna crash for a few days when they actually come to the city) was destroyed, so after the war Bubo moved in with Tripore. They eventually got a bigger apartment around Witch Queen. And this means Edgewise has to deal with both Bubo and Minerva who are weirdos. Bubo is always trying to learn about weird awoken magic he is pretty sure isn’t legal/safe to use in the city. And even weirder is her ghost Minerva who constantly floats upside down and is too happy considering how serious things are with the world right now. So yeah, they don’t hate each other, but they have very different personalities that clash.

Ghosts who don’t care what their Guardian thinks, because who’s been alive longer? That’s right. It’s Ghost.

This is Edgewise. Definitely.

Ghosts who are *way* too into the fashion show, and their Guardian is begging them to let it go

Minerva absolutely LOVES getting dressed up for literally everything and anything. He especially likes matching Bubo. Armor? Dresses? Casual nerdy warlock clothes? Minerva loves them all and loves getting fifty bazillion shells. Bubo’s wallet cries every single time they find a new shell out in the wild lol. But his favorite and the one he wears most often is his Rival Warlock Shell that bubo painted to match one of her armor sets (even tho she doesn’t wear those robes much anymore, he still loves it)

Ghosts who always use some of their down time in the City to mourn those lost. Some of those that their Guardian never knew, because they lived and died before Ghost found their Guardian.

Hmmm. Does Edgewise have an angsty backstory that explains why he is super serious all the time? Idk. I haven’t really thought of Minerva or Edgewise’s backstories.

More Ghost things:

Ghosts who refuse to heal their Guardians when they’re mad (in non-critical situations)

Ghosts who ship their Guardian and are *vocal* about it

Ghosts who get passive-aggressive about who has a better Guardian (grandmas at a knitting circle style)

Ghosts who insist they want to try out tons of ridiculous hobbies, or try to find some to do with their Guardian

Ghosts who sneakily transmat things they like back to the ship, much to the surprise of their Guardian

Cuddly Ghosts who press up against their Guardian while they sleep

Ghosts who like their own little cubby/space to spend time while their Guardian sleeps (it’s fully decorated)

Ghosts who insist they’re better than their Guardian at interior decorating

Ghosts who like to wander the City alone while their Guardian is on the Tower taking care of things

Ghosts who remind their Guardian to sleep/eat/hydrate/fix their posture

Ghosts that bonk their shells against their Guardian in frustration or playfulness

Ghosts who get sick of it when their Guardian is in love

Ghosts that hate each other, but their Guardians are best friends or lovers

Ghosts that are best friends, but their Guardians hate each other

Ghosts without Guardians silently choosing a Lightless who they get along with, pretending they’re a pair for a while

Ghosts who stick with their Lightless friend until the end, hoping – always hoping – that it might change

Ghosts without Guardians that help look after the refugee children with/without parents, hoping to help in some way

Ghosts that are just. Really bad at reading the room, much to the chagrin of their Guardian.

Ghosts who don’t care what their Guardian thinks, because who’s been alive longer? That’s right. It’s Ghost.

Ghosts who made a bunch of friends (Guardian or Lightless) before they found their Guardian, so everyone forgets the new Guardian is there the first few times.

Ghosts who are WAY too proud of their Guardian, constantly embarrassing the Guardian who just wants to turn in bounties.

Ghosts who begrudgingly rate each new outfit/color as their Guardian plays fashion

Ghosts who are *way* too into the fashion show, and their Guardian is begging them to let it go.

Ghosts trying to sing with their Guardian – who also can’t sing.

Ghosts who adamantly want a pet

Ghosts who insist they can’t have a pet, because it’s already hard trying to keep the Guardian alive (and they get multiple shots at it)

Ghosts that get huffy when they’re upset, but not vocally. You just see their shells twisting and puffing in and out.

Ghosts betting things between each other (Hey, I bet you this shell that my Guardian will get more kills than yours)

Ghosts that tut at their Guardian over every little scratch and bruise out of worry

Ghosts who always use some of their down time in the City to mourn those lost. Some of those that their Guardian never knew, because they lived and died before Ghost found their Guardian.

Original post here

#I love creating stories for our ghosts the most #Bubo #Minerva #Tripore #Edgewise #Young Wolf #YW #Ghost #Warlock #Titan #Destiny 2 #d2 #destiny the game #destiny

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she-whatshername · 3 months ago

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Thoughts while in my cold medicine induced haze

Prompt: how absolutely terrible the Marked Ones would be at taking care of you. Because they can’t be perfect at everything

Xaden:

The fault: too overprotective

“Tell me again,” he asked, “who were you with yesterday?”

“Huh? Xaden, why?” You grumbled hoarsely while pulling the covers up to your chin. It had been ten minutes since Xaden came into your room with a cup of tea and all of it was spent asking weird questions. The bedside manner this man had was…questionable. Pun intended. You just wanted him to snuggle and pamper you, was that too much to ask?!

“That Ridoc kid was sneezing this morning. Didn’t even cover his mouth,” he explained. He stood up from the edge of your bed, practically pacing. “Saw him yesterday didn’t you? I knew he was behind it.”

“Love. Please just lay with me.”

He grumbled while laying next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist. Finally. This was the comfort you were seeking. You begsn to close your eyes and settle for a nap.

“…want me to stab him a few times for you?”

Oh for fucks sakes! You let out an annoyed groan and threw the covers over your head, not before throwing Xaden and his ridiculous theories out of your room for the rest of the afternoon.

Garrick:

The fault: too handsy

“Thank you so much for the tea, Garrick.” You mumbled from the nest of covers you were under on the bed.

“Aww, you say my name so cute when you’re all stuffed up like that.” He smirked while sitting on the bed next to you. “You know, you look really hot for being sick as shit.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Was he serious? You were in the middle of a cold sweat, “I haven’t even showered today.”

A glint if mischief appeared in his eyes, “dirty girl.”

“Enough. Keep it in your pants Tavis, I’m sick!” Gods, normally you would find his libido and teasing tolerable but today? not the day.

But this was Garrick. It was a losing battle, “You’re so hot when you order me around like that. I’m kidding - don’t look at me like that. Just get some sleep okay?”

You rolled away from him and closed your eyes, hoping a nap would make you feel any bit better. After about an hour you woke, rising from the bed to head to the bathroom. You walked past Garrick who was lounging on a chair by the washroom door. It was nice he stayed with you while you slept. But that affection quickly ended once you felt his hand careen against your ass in a playful slap.

And while you’d normally find love taps like that endearing, you decided to return the favor and throw Garrick out of your room on his own ass.

Bodhi:

The fault: none! Angel this one is

Though, he’s probably such a hovering partner lolol

“I got your tea, love.”

“Thanks Bodhi.” You smiled at him while snuggling into your sheets. Now that you had some tea a nap wouldn’t be too far off. Just want you need.

“Of course. Need anything else? A book?”

“No, darling. I’m good.”

“Fluff your pillows?”

“You’re so sweet. I’m fine.”

“Need some more medicine?”

“All good.”

“Want me to get you lunch? Have you eaten?”

“No, and yes. I’m all set.”

“Need a massage?”

“No.”

“Want some help reorganizing your blankets?”

“Bodhi.”

“Can I get you some water?”

“Please-“

“Can I help you clean up in here?”

You groan and throw the blankets over your face as you attempt to silence the sounds of his questions and the other noises as he began to clean your room.

#fourth wing #the empyrean #bodhi durran #garrick tavis #xaden riorson #iron flame #tyrrish men headcanons you didn't ask for

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Alright, finally got back to this lolol and here it is! A bit of a different take on it but a lil fluff with MBJ & Raven! This is set in between their first date and her birthday!

***

Raven’s hand groped around in her bed without taking her eyes off the pages of her book as she tried to grab her discarded phone before it stopped ringing. She did not understand who in their right mind would have thought to call her at this hour. Admittedly she was still awake, so utterly engrossed in her book that she had pushed back her self-imposed bedtime four times.

However, her annoyance at the person interrupting her reading time immediately dissipated when she saw the name scroll across her screen.

Michael

“I should charge you for calling me this late,” she mumbled into the phone as she slid her bookmark into place and tossed her book to the other side of her bed. His deep baritone laughter filled her ears. “What if I’d been asleep?”

“I knew you weren’t. You’re off on Thursdays and you told me you were about to start a like 900 page book.”

He could not see her but her face twisted up in shock that he would ever remember her work schedule. She supposed it made sense. They were only a week and some change but he was extremely respectful of her time and life outside their arrangement, only scheduling dates and events around her other obligations.

“Touche,” she admitted as she flopped back down against her pillows. “But it’s only 760 pages, thank you very much.”

“Not that much of a difference. I also… just couldn’t sleep. Figured I see if you were strugglin’ too.”

“How’s New York?”

Michael was there to do an interview for a magazine and photo shoot.

“It’s New York… same as it’s always been,” he chuckled. “Nothing special bout it when you’re here as often as I am. Excited to get home…” his words trailed off as he stopped himself from saying the important part: that he was excited to get back to her.

“When do you come back?” She tried to hide the hopefulness from her voice. They had a date scheduled for Saturday night, dinner and a party Issa Rae was hosting that Michael wanted to attend. He had been gone the entire week and been so busy, Raven had not heard much from him at all during that time. She could not deny that there was a small part of her that was worried something would keep him there longer.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I’ll be back for our date 'n give you want you need,” he teased, his heart beating slightly faster at the idea that she wanted him back.

“Ha ha. Don’t flatter yourself,” she joked, though she felt the anxiety in her chest ease a bit. “How would I get paid if you aren’t here?”

“You gon’ pretend you ain’t excited to see me after a week?”

She shrugged. “Can’t inflate your head more than it already is. Somebody’s gotta keep you grounded, superstar. Not that I mind the intrusion, but everything ok? Why’d you call?”

“Oh, uhh next week, Ryan invited us to a dinner with the Black Panther cast… it’s your birthday though, that ok? Sorry, he texted me earlier and I forgot to ask.”

Michael had told himself 100 times that that was why he was calling her. Not to check in or see how she was doing. No, he called to get the answer to this one question… that he could’ve waited until morning to ask. But somewhere deep in his soul, he knew that he really called because he wanted to hear her voice more than he wanted rest, more than he wanted anything in that moment.

She could tell he did not still believe her when she said she did not celebrate her birthday but something in her could not deny that it made her feel cared for that he thought to check first.

“Y-yea… yea it’s fine.”

“You sure?” She could hear the skepticism oozing out of every sllybale. She could imagine his face as if he were standing right in front of her.

“Yea I’m positive. Dinner with THE Angela Bassett and Ryan Coogler feels like a damn good way to spend my birthday.”

“Ok cool. I’ll let him know. How’s the book?” He asked as he settled in his bed. He needed to head to bed, he had an early day in the morning. But he refused to let another day pass without hearing her voice.

“Good. One of the kids recommended it for book club so I checked it out. It didn’t disappoint. Though I dunno if this book’s appropriate for teenagers. Definitely rated R. But the enemies just became lovers so I’m really living my best life reading this.”

Michael laughed. “You like that shit?”

“It’s the best trope in existence, I dunno. I just love it when people fall in love slowly but feel it all at once? If that makes sense.”

Michael could tell she had sat up as she spoke. He imagined the passion and excitement in her expression and body language at talking about something she loved just by how much brighter her voice got.

“Nah, I don’t get it,” he admitted.

She laughed and turned onto her stomach, her legs crossing at the ankles as she talked to him. If anyone could see her, she looked like a school girl talking to their crush on the phone.

“It’s like… you as the reader know they’ve loved each other from the moment they laid eyes on each other. They hate each other but every moment they spend together softens that barrier between them slowly but surely. And then one day, all of a sudden, it hits them all at once that they can’t live without each other. The build up is agonizing and torturous but the pay off? Worth it every single time. And I dunno, that’s what a lot of life is anyway.”

“You talk about characters and their relationships as if they’re real.”

“Cause they are. Not literally, of course. But I dunno… when I was writing, they existed in my head like they were real, living breathing beings. You tellin’ me Adonis Creed doesn’t live rent and bill free in that head of yours?”

“He does. All of ‘em do actually. Some more than others. Takin’ on the personas, can be hard to shake.”

“How do you do it and… keep you?” She asked quietly, her fingers playing with the charm on the necklace he got her the week before for one of their dates. She found herself sliding it on every single morning even when he was not around.

“Always had a strong sense of me… always knew who I was and wanted to be. I can go down the road of a character but I always know how to find my way back cause I know me.”

“That must be nice…”

He could hear the longing in her voice.

“What?”

“Being able to get lost and have something you wanna come back to… most people are trying to escape their reality and have no desire to come back.”

Michael propped himself up on his pillows, his hand resting on his bare chest. “That how you feel?”

“Sometimes. But there’re some things worth coming back to Earth for these days,” she mused with a soft smile.

“Like what? An insanely handsome boyfriend?”

She laughed. “Yes, my insanely sexy, fake boyfriend is one of those things.”

“I aim to please.” He smiled as he heard a soft yawn, Raven clearly trying to stifle it but she failed miserably. The selfish side of him wanted to ignore it and talk to her until the sun came up. However, he knew that was not right. “You should go to sleep.”

“Yea I should,” she mused. And he was right, she should. However, she had no desire to hang up on him. She did not need to know how her book ended, she did not need sleep. She just needed him, his presence. “Ok tell me… your favorite role you’ve ever played?”

“Oof that’s hard. You know I’ve been actin’ since I was like a kid, right? Dunno if I remember every role honestly.”

Raven let out a cackle. “Wow… just had to throw that slight flex in there, huh?? You’ve had sooooo many roles you can’t even remember your favorite??”

His laughter made her heart swell. “Not a flex! Well… yea kinda a flex. But it’s true.”

“Was it… Wallace?”

“The character that started my legacy of dyin’ on camera?? Nah. Though I loved being on that set.”

“Hmmm…” her chocolate brown nails tapped against her chin as she contemplated. “Oh I know… Human Torch wasn’t it? Honestly, one of your best movies.” She bit her lip as she stifled a laugh at his gasp on the other end of the phone.

“Wowwwwwwww, had to bring up my one flop huh??”

“Told you… gotta keep you humble.”

“Well you succeeded. That movie wasn’t… that bad really, was it?” he asked with a chuckle. Though he already knew the answer.

“I don’t think you really want me to answer that, Michael.”

“Ok, watch when I humble that ass on Saturday night,” he answered, the dominance in his voice making Raven’s thighs clench together.

Fuck, how does he have this effect on me??

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” she answered, her voice sexy and sultry.

She shifted onto her back and pulled her covers up to snuggle deeper into bed as they talked.

“I think you’re amazing in all your movies,” she offered quietly.

Michael smiled, her praise of his talent felt different than other people's… like she truly meant it and was not just saying it to be nice. “Thanks… Best book you’ve ever read?”

“Impossible question. And I’m not answering that til you name your favorite role! Can’t flip it back on me.”

“Oh come on…”

The two playfully bickered back and forth for another hour, answering random questions about each other as the night stretched on and on. Michael was not even ready to hang up, neither of them were but he could hear Raven fighting sleep in her voice. He had kept her up long enough but he prayed she thought it was worth it.

“Aight, you’re about to pass out on me. Go to bed.”

She let out a yawn that tugged at Michael’s heartstrings. He did not understand how literally everything she said and did made him feel so many things. She rubbed her eyes before nodding.

“Yea I guess I should get some sleep. I just…” she sighed. “This was… nice. I like talking to you before bed.”

Michael’s grin grew wider as he listened to her words. “Same time tomorrow night? At a more acceptable west coast hour?”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to stop the cheshire cat sized grin that spread on her face.

“It’s a date… free of charge, this time.”

“Night, Rae.”

“NIght, Michael.”

Raven held the phone down from her ear for a moment, staring at the screen as his name scrolled past. He did not press the end button and neither did she for a few seconds. Finally, she ended the call and let the phone fall onto her chest. Something in her soul felt more at ease after talking to him, a peace washing over her that she had not expected. Something about just talking to him did that for her, something she had not expected when they got into this arrangement.

However, it was a welcomed development. One she loved so much that she would gladly ignore the exhaustion she would surely feel to stay up and talk to him again the next day.

Tags: @apenasumlug4r

I’m not sure if anyone has ever asked, but I need Raven and Michael having a cell phone conversation while he’s on an important recording

Anon I need a couple more details for this one… sorry 😭 lol like him pausing an interview to talk to her or something like that?? Feel free to DM me if that’s easier lol

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii #Michael b Jordan asks

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yesitsmewhataboutit · 2 years ago

Text

Wind

Tom Holland x Pregnant!Reader

You go on set with Tom, both of you thinking it’s harmless, but technically it’s not the safest place you could be while your 8 months pregnant

Warning⚠️: this not like regular ones reader doesn’t have the baby after getting hurt, Tom has a panic attack

»»——⍟——««A/n: wellll am I back? Idk tbh. I just felt like actually sitting down and writing something real not just the little bits lolol. Maybe I’m back maybe this was just a adrenaline rush but hey enjoy hehe

Masterlist

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It's perfect. That's the only way you could describe it. There's nothing better than this moment. If someone you're close to asked where your favorite place was, no hesitation, you'd say laying in Tom's arm. Call it corny, cringe, cliche, but it was true.

That fact only grows when you're pregnant. Now, you're pregnant with Tom's babies, twins, and that only makes you love being around him more. Some girls want their space when they're pregnant, but not you, not at all. You usually want to be around Tom as much as possible, and it only doubles when you're pregnant.

Tom knows. He's used to it by now. The first time you got pregnant, he noticed the way you were clingier. Not that he minded. He loved holding you and having his arms around you any time, so no big deal.

Now that you're pregnant again, he knows what to expect. He knows that as it goes on and you get more uncomfortable, he has to be around as much as possible, knowing he's the only thing that keeps you sane and happy while you're uncomfortable in your own skin.

Some days are better than others, but it's tricky, especially since Tom has to be on set. After you passed around five months, it got worse. He always tries to slip away when he can, leaving you things you need in the bedroom, wanting you to stay in bed as long as you can and not move around too much. Tom leaves you pillows and snacks, plus his hoodie so you can cuddle your big pillow and pretend he's there.

The one thing that was always extra ticky was sleep. No matter how much you'd lay on Tom's hoodie and cuddle with his pillow or how long you'd lay still in bed during the day, you can't sleep without him. During the earlier stages of your pregnancy, you'd trick yourself and act like he was there, napping during the day and being fine while he's gone, but that only lasts so long.

You're eight months pregnant now, and some days you almost can't bare him not being home. It made it that much worse that he had to leave early, and no matter how careful he was trying to remove himself from bed, you always woke up. You woke up, and you couldn't get back to sleep without him, leaving you in bed for the rest of the day, missing him.

Part of you did feel bad. Bad that you're so dependent on him, but the feeling always went away with how caring he'd be. Tom never complained, and he always found a way to help you however he could. Any time he did that, it'd make you so happy, and you wouldn't think about the slight guilt. He loved doing it anyway, so there was no reason to feel guilty.

Today is another regular day. Tom's alarm went off at 6 am, making him wake up and quickly turn it off, then look at you, who's curled up against him. He put his arm back where it was, laid across you, his hand on your swollen stomach, his thumb slowly rubbing circles, a small smile spreading across his lips.

He takes a few minutes, staying in that position and savoring the moment. Your back is against his chest, his other arm under your pillow, and your hands curled around his hand that peeks from under the pillow, both of you in a bubble of warmth and tranquility.

Then the moment he dreaded, after stretching the time as much as he could, Tom knew he had to get up. Slowly, he lifted the arm that laid on top of you, meanwhile trying to slide back and remove his body from yours.

To no use, tho, the very second his warmth left yours, you stirred awake, immediately knowing he was about to leave and not wanting it, turning around and trying to get him to stay.

"Tommy, no, no, stay! Please, stay," you whined. Your voice sounded broken and tired from sleep.

If you didn't sound so sad, Tom could've almost laughed at how you awkwardly tried to curl your body around his, trying to cling to him to make him stay. It is pretty impossible cause of your big stomach.

"M'sorry, Love. You know I have to go," he said, his voice also still thick with sleep. He brings his hand up and rubs your arm, looking into your pleading eyes.

"No, not today, just today, please. Don't want you to go," you pouted, still trying to lean into Tom, getting frustrated at how your stomach was preventing it.

Tom takes note, trying to think of a solution, not wanting you to be upset this early in the day. "Hold on, Love," he says. "Cmere." Tom turns you on your back, settling down on his side, curling his arms around you, pulling you sideways into his chest. "Better?" he asks, making you nod, tired pout still on your face. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with the best solution, only coming up with a single one that he wasn't super fond of, but it was the only thing his morning brain could come up with at the second.

"Alright, how about this; how about you come on set with me today?"

"Really?" your eyes light up at the thought.

"Yeah... I mean, as long as you promise to stay safe, I'm sure just one time won't be too bad," he smiles at you.

Tom, in general, is very protective, meaning he'd barely let you out of the house without him, not wanting something to happen to you or now your babies. In Tom's mind, there were plenty of things that could go wrong bringing you on set, but it's either that or leave you unhappy at home all day, and stress is bad for you right now plus, what's the odds something will happen anyway?

After you agreed, he called his manager, telling him he'll be a little late today, giving you time to take your time and get ready, plus time for you to wait for Tom's mom to come to pick up Mya, you and Tom's three-year-old, as she usually does every day to watch her while Tom is away.

Two hours later, you're on set.

"You sure about this, Love? I don't mind driving you back home if you like?" Tom says as you walk away from the car, starting to have his doubts.

"Yes, Tom," you smile. "You know I love watching you film anyways."

He can't help but smile, leaning to give you a kiss on your forehead as he slips his hand into yours and head closer.

You follow Tom as he gets ready in Hair & Makeup, then heads to his trailer to change. Pretty much everyone knew you, and you had fun seeing everyone again. Mostly, while Tom gets ready, you're sitting a few feet from him, out of the way, and just watching. Occasionally someone will say hi, but mostly everyone focused on other stuff.

Eventually, it's time to start filming. You and Tom walk to where he's supposed to be, him showing you and place you can sit and watch. It all goes smoothly. You smile as you watch Tom's scenes, even though you know little about what's going on, and you, every once in a while, will snack on the snacks you brought that are in your backpack.

At one point, they need to film scenes inside one of the set buildings. Everyone makes their way inside, Tom stopping to check on you for a few minutes before getting in his position.

The show Tom's filming is known for great CGI. Part of that reason is the custom big wing canon they use. When it's turned on, not only does it make it look like the wind hit Tom, but a lot of the time, it's powerful enough to make other things move, making it all look natural and less pressure on the CGI editing.

There's no way to know what it was about today. Everything was the same as any other day. The prop placement. The canon placement. There's no reason for any of it to change. Yet, that doesn't change the fact that when the wind canon gets turned on, and they started filming, all the wind and things moving, nobody could've predicted one of the prop rocks would go flying from its place.

Directly toward where you're sitting.

You didn't see it coming. You didn't have time to see it coming. Tom barely saw it coming, only noticed by the side of his eye how one object, compared to everything else, flew out into your general direction, making his heart immediately stop. His head snaps toward you, watching just in time as it hits you, sending you flying out of your chair and to the ground.

Most the things on set aren't real, the rocks and cars. Anything and everything around is for show, but it also needs to look like it's not fake. Soft, light prop rocks aren't going to pass.

It hit you right in the chest, and you were immediately unconscious. When Tom saw you not moving, he froze. Everything around him was too much. His lungs felt heavy, his throat felt dry, and he couldn't yell. Everything was within seconds, but he was the quickest to react, well, try to react. At first, he couldn't do anything, but a scream of your name eventually erupted from his throat.

For the scene he's doing, he was standing on a high-up ledge, also attached to a harness so he won't fall. Because of that, when he tries to jump and lung down to you, he can't. Instead, he's stuck dangling mid-air and strangling to get out of the harness, all while screaming your name.

Y/n!? Y/n! Are you ok? Y/n!"

"Tom. Tom! Calm down, stop moving so we can get you down!" Henry, the director, says. "Marcus, help Tom down, and Harmony call an ambulance for Mrs. Holland." Everyone scatters at the directions. Some go to kneel at your side, trying to be of any help.

Tom has to swallow his instincts and stay still so Marcus can control the harness strings and let him down. The second, Tom's feet are on (somewhat) stable ground, back where he started on the ledge he's pulling, tugging at the harness and throwing it away from him.

If this wasn't a terrible situation, and Tom focused on you, he would've stopped and been excited about the flip and sticking the landing off the 20-foot-high ledge he was standing on.

Once he's on the ground, he runs to you, trying not to trip over his feet, pushing the people around you out of the way, and gets by your side. His throat is dry again, mouth open, but nothing comes out. Tom's eyes wide, hands shaking as they ghost over your body. His gaze focuses on the small trail of blood going down your forehead. That's when his whole body starts shaking.

His vision goes blurry, and he doesn't know what to do. He starts hyperventilating. He feels like there's too much air in his lungs, but at the same time, he can't breathe. Everyone around you notices when he starts panicking, and they try to help, but it's too no use. He can't hear anyone or see their attempts. He only sees you.

In Tom's eyes, there's no telling how much time went by before he feels his body get pulled to the side and sees medics next to you. There are two more medics, one by him and one asking what happened. He still can't feel anything, numbness spreading around his whole body. He's unable to acknowledge the medic next to him, trying to ask if he's ok or needs assistance.

It doesn't take long for the medic to pick up on his incoherent state, his breathing uneven, and the crazed look on his face. The medic calls for an oxygen mask, quickly taking it and putting it over Tom's face.

It does help a little, making Tom come back to reality the slightest amount, enough for him to see the other medics get you on a gurney and wheel you toward the ambulance.

That makes Tom stand up, pulling the mask off his face and ignoring the calls from people around him, telling him to wait. He follows them, watching as they get inside the ambulance and close the door. And everything goes black.

Tom wakes up in a hospital bed. White walls and the sound of a beeping heart monitor. It takes him a second, but everything comes flooding back, and suddenly he's trying to get up, to get to you.

"Woah! Woah, Woah, mate! Settle down, settle down," Harry urges, getting up from his seat and standing next to Tom's bed.

'Y-Y/n- she- where-" Tom pants, unable to finish one sentence before starting another.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's ok, mate, she's fine."

Tom hears what he says, but something in him still can't fully comprehend it, and e continues to struggle and try to get up. "Tom, dude, stop, or they'll have to sedate you again," Harry chuckles, putting his hand on Tom's shoulder, wanting to keep him down.

"She's ok?" Tom asks, still now fully there.

"Yes. Y/n is ok, and the babies are ok.

"Wan' see her."

"Tom-"

"Please- mate, please," Tom whines, not caring how pathetic he sounds.

Harry sighs in defeat. Henry called Harry to meet Tom at the hospital to tell him what happened and when he arrived, the doctors said Tom had a panic attack, plus his oxygen levels went down. He'd be pretty out of it for a while.

Harry knew it probably wasn't the best idea to get Tom out of his bed, but he also knew Tom wouldn't stop until he saw you.

It takes a few minutes, but he finds a wheelchair and wheels Tom to your room. He wheels him next to you and leaves for you two to have time.

Seeing you brings him to reality just a little. You're still unconscious, and you have a heart monitor hooked up, but other than that, you look fine.

At that moment, exhaustion hits Tom like a truck. The full extent of the day's activities really come flooding in, and he's tired, incredibly tired. All he can do is smile, seeing with his own eyes that you're ok. He slides one hand and rests it on top of your stomach, sliding his other into your limp one, then just rests his head on the side of your bed, his eyes immediately shutting.

Masterlist

Ahem: @scandescent @tomhollandfics

@mcushvft @lnmp89

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fluff #tom holland x pregnant!reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x black!reader #tom holland

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mackenzielovee · 3 years ago

Text

letters to you: three - rafe cameron

summary: routines aren't meant to be followed, they're meant to be broken

warnings: swearing, mentions of cigarette smoking

wc: 4.5k

a/n: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger, but part 4 will be up sooner than you think so don't be mad! lolol let me know what you think of this and thank you for reading and supporting! xo

series masterlist

Y/N,

Are you trying to kill me? Never in a million years would I have pegged you as the type of girl that sends pictures. Especially to a guy you hardly know. Especially, especially to me. Not that I’m not appreciative. I definitely, completely, totally appreciate that picture. I have been trying to find the right word, an adjective, that would do you justice. It’s impossible. Most people have seven wonders of the world. I now have eight.

The cookies were great. I finished them off last night. I will definitely require more the next time you’re home. Do you have any idea when that will be?

I understand how you feel a little bit. The island’s too small to not feel suffocating occasionally. Especially with everyone knowing everyone’s business all the time. Nosy bitches.

And, just so you know, it wasn’t just because we were talking about books. Talking to you made me feel like I finally have a place on the island again. You just had to go back to college. (I’m joking).

Thank you for the copy of A Sicilian Romance. I started it before I started writing to you. I’m saving my thoughts for when I finish it.

I didn’t celebrate New Year’s. Well, that’s not entirely true. I watched Casablanca on my couch and ate five of your cookies. Then, I finished the book I’d been reading and fell asleep by eleven. Exciting, I know. That being said, no, I didn’t have a New Year’s kiss. I would ask if you did, but I think I wouldn’t like the answer. Don’t tell me. Besides, running around in that dress? I bet you had seventeen New Year’s kisses.

P.S – Stop telling me to not feel pressure to write back. If anyone doesn’t write back, it will be you.

Rafe

“Emma!” you scream from your bedroom.

It’s January third; proving to you that Rafe had received your letter, written back, and mailed it all in one day. If not for the pit of anxiety in your stomach, you’re sure you would have positive thoughts about that.

It’s another rainy day, calling for an afternoon nap. Classes start Monday, so Emma’s been sleeping as much as she can knowing the next four months will be very lacking in that department. You, however, do not care about that right now. You bust into her room and turn on every light she has just to spite her.

“What?” she groans, burying her face in her pillow.

“Wake up,” you demand.

One of her eyes pops open to look at you, and when she sees Rafe’s letter resting in your right hand, your grip careful not to wrinkle it, she grins. Her attempt to hide her smile with the comforter fails.

“He liked the picture?”

“He–” you start, then groan and try again, “I–”

Words are failing you. She just laughs and turns over on her back, finally opening both of her eyes.

You glare at her, hoping she gets your message.

“When did you even put that in the envelope?” you whine.

“Right before I told you to seal it. Honestly, it was a little too easy–”

“Emma,” you stop her, “I told you I wasn’t going to send him that picture. He barely knows me, he probably thinks it’s weird that I’m sending him photos of me in the mail–”

“Did he say that?” she questions, sitting up in her bed.

“No, but–”

“What did he say?”

You pull the letter behind your back, wanting Rafe’s words to stay between the two of you. You can feel your body heat up just at the thought of them, and with one look, you know Emma can see right through you.

“He said I looked nice,” you say quietly.

She hikes up a brow, “Nice?”

“Yes, nice. What’s wrong with that?”

She laughs loudly and grabs one of her throw pillows, launching it at you. She watches you avoid it, then send a glare in her direction.

“Nice is what you say when you compliment your mom on Christmas Eve,” she says, “Nice is what you call a guy you don’t want to go out with anymore. Nice is not what you say in response to that picture.”

“Well,” you just shrug, avoiding her eyes.

Because you’re not looking at her, you fail to see her launch herself at you until it’s too late. She’s got you on the ground and removes the letter from your grasp before you can even think.

“Emma!” you groan, fighting to get her off of you.

“Shh,” she hushes, her eyes scanning rapidly across the page, “Holy shit! Who the hell is this guy?”

“Emma!” you shout, trying to tell her you’re serious.

“‘Talking to you made me feel like I have a place on the island again’, Jesus, Y/N, this shit is what gets you all hot and bothered?”

Her words do you in. You shove her off of you and grab the letter back from her, folding it up and shoving it in the back pocket of your shorts so she can’t even consider finishing reading. She frowns at the serious look on your face.

“Stop it,” you snap, inching toward the door, “You don’t even know him.”

You walk out of her bedroom and into the hall, not expecting her to follow you and definitely not expecting her to raise her voice.

“Neither do you!” she exclaims, “Why are you getting so defensive over some guy you barely know–”

“I don’t know!” you yell back at her, exhaling loudly when you see her chest deflate.

The anger leaves both of you at the same time; Emma’s eyes soften and she takes a step forward, holding her hand out for you to take.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I shouldn’t have meddled in it.”

You want to swallow your question, but you know that Emma knows you better than anyone, so you ask it anyway.

“Why did you?”

“Because it’s obvious he means something to you. I’ve never seen you fall for a guy before. You’re usually so sensible, so independent, that seeing you freak out over a letter kind of shocked me. And I know how much it would suck for you if it turns out that this whole writing letters thing means more to you than it does to him. I sent the picture to gauge his reaction to it, to see if he’s just trying to get in your pants or whatever. His response, while a bit pretentious and a little cheesy, isn’t necessarily top of the list for douchebags.”

She says this with a sad smile and cheer, one that makes you laugh despite the circumstances. You press your lips in a tight line, not sure if you should deny or confirm that you have feelings involved.

“And,” she continues, “It seems like he might be just as invested. You’re his eighth wonder of the world, Y/N.”

She’s teasing you now, watching and laughing when you roll your eyes. The letter suddenly feels heavy in your pocket and you have every desire to write him back just as quickly as he wrote you.

“So, what are you saying? Do I keep writing or run away?”

She takes a moment, considering her answer.

“Proceed with caution.”

Rafe,

My roommate snuck that photo in the envelope before I mailed it. I didn’t know it was in there. You would’ve been right with your initial assumption, I didn’t plan on sending you that picture. I appreciate your words, but you don’t have to exaggerate for my sake. I don’t normally wear stuff like that.

I have no idea when I will be back in the Outer Banks. Things with my parents make it really hard to come back, no matter how much I will need a break from this place once my classes start up on Monday. I could always mail you a batch next time I make them here. I’m glad you liked them so much.

You always have had a place on the island. Just because that place may have changed doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. But I’m glad that it meant something to you, too.

Your New Year’s celebration sounds much better than mine. I’m not a big drinker so I never really enjoy New Year’s Eve the way other people do. However, I’m never hung over on New Year’s Day, so I guess I enjoy that part more than they do. I love Casablanca. And I didn’t have seventeen New Year’s kisses.

Hope things are well.

Talk soon,

Y/N

Checking the mail every day quickly becomes routine for you. You grin when you arrive home on Saturday to find that Emma set Rafe’s newest letter on the shelf by the door for you. You’d written to him on Thursday, and he amazes you with how fast he writes and mails his responses.

Emma emerges from her room when she hears you come in, her gaze following yours to the white envelope.

“A new letter from lover boy?” she grins, “Maybe one day you two will graduate to using phones.”

Emma’s observations about your unusual arrangement have you questioning it, only for a moment. Should you be talking on the phone? Do the letters mean that he wants to keep this entire thing private?

“Should we be?” you ask.

She shrugs, fishing around the fridge for a water bottle, “I don’t know. I’ve never had a guy write me letters before. They normally just send me a text at two in the morning asking if I’m up.”

“How do you think people had relationships before technology?” you question.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying. And I thought you said it wasn’t a relationship.”

“It’s not.”

When she turns, her eyebrow is raised so high on her forehead it runs the risk of sliding off completely.

“So, you’re saying you don’t want it to go anywhere? You’re just gonna write letters to him for the rest of your life?”

You just shrug, shrinking back a little at her words, “I don’t know. I really don’t know what I want. I don’t know what he wants.”

“You know what you want, Y/N,” her shoulders fall in disbelief as she stares at you, “You reread his letters, like, four times after you get them. You check our mailbox like a mad woman, and your entire body goes hot at the mention of his name.”

You can feel the warmth spreading through your body as you lie, “No, it doesn’t.”

She rolls her eyes again and reaches out, pressing her hand to your neck.

“You’re fucking burning up,” she replies, “Ask him for his number. Talk to him on the phone. Have phone sex, I don’t know. Writing to him won’t get you anywhere.”

She leaves the kitchen before you have time to argue, and instead, you hurry off to your room to open his letter. It soothes the worries and the insecurity that Emma’s words brought out.

Y/N,

Please send my deepest thanks to your roommate. I know this year just started, but that picture made the entirety of it. Believe me, I didn’t say anything that I didn’t mean. Although, I don’t know if I said it outright in my last letter, so I’ll say it now. You’re beautiful, Y/N. I’m sorry if someone ever made you feel like you’re not.

Even more than that, your mind is beautiful, too. Why do you think I followed you out of the Christmas party that night? Initially, it was because you looked so beautiful. I stayed out there with you because I was amazed at how brilliant you are. And you don’t even know it. How crazy is that?

I started off this letter pretty strong. I would apologize, but I’m not sorry. These are things you should know.

I don’t know how to ask about your parents without asking if things are okay, which they’re obviously not, because you’d come home if they were. I know your brilliant mind could come up with a way to articulate this question I’m trying to ask, and I’m also sure you know what I’m trying to say. If you want to talk about it, nobody will ever see your letters but me. I promise. However, I have to deny your proposal to mail the cookies. I need them fresh. I counter with this: when you need a break from school and you want to come home, you can always come to my apartment. I have a kitchen where you can bake and a guest room you can stay in if you don’t want to see your parents. This is just an offer. You don’t have to take me up on it. But I hope you think about it.

I love Casablanca, too. I’ve watched it every New Year’s Eve for the past ten years or so. I refuse to watch it otherwise. It’s a weird thing I have. Maybe next year, we can watch it and refrain from alcohol together. I’m relieved to hear you didn’t have seventeen New Year’s kisses. I’m hating the one you did have, though. I’m sure that drunk asshole has no idea just how lucky he was.

Sorry this was a bit long. Good luck with school on Monday.

Sincerely,

Rafe

You beat Emma home from class on Monday. You only have two classes on Mondays and Wednesdays – both back to back so you’re done with your day by one in the afternoon. You put your kettle on the stove to heat up, then collect a piece of paper and a pen from your bedroom to settle in to write to Rafe in the living room.

After everything Emma’s had to say about the letters – good and bad – you can’t help but feel a little insecure about this entire thing with Rafe. What does he want out of this? Is he writing just to be nice? Are you? Does he wonder where this is going to go?

You write his name at the top of the page and then move down to the next line, but no words come out. You consider telling him about your first day of classes, but you’re not sure he would care about that. For reference, you pull his last letter out of your back pocket and read over it again. It’s quickly become your favorite because of the way he talks about your beauty and your mind. Nobody’s ever told you anything like that before. Especially not in a handwritten letter like this.

He offered you his apartment. His kitchen. His space. Then, he proposed to spend the next New Years with you. So, maybe, he is thinking about the future.

Or maybe he’s just being nice.

The kettle whistling on the stove causes you to jump in your seat, and when you realize the noise, you toss your pen down and get up to remove it from the heat.

Once you have your tea in a mug, you attempt to write again.

Rafe,

Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me. I’ve thought a lot about them in the past few days. I’ve even reread them a few times. Okay, many times. So, I guess it’s only fair if I tell you that I enjoyed looking at you that night, too. More than that, I enjoyed talking to you. Getting your perspective and countering it with my own. I like how different we are. It makes the similarities more noticeable.

My parents need a divorce. I’ve never told anyone that before. They need one, but as you know, people don’t get divorced on the Eight. It’s a status thing, I guess? They think I don’t notice the tension and the separation, but I do. I think that they think I’m still a kid. That sucks. Thank you for offering to listen to me talk about it. They wouldn’t want this to get out.

I appreciate your offer but I wouldn’t want to impose on you like that. My “brilliant” brain considers all possible outcomes when invited into a man’s home – especially one she hardly knows. Not that I think you’d harm me, but you know. Every woman has to keep that in mind at least, right?

How did your Casablanca tradition start? I would love to know more about it. If we’re better acquainted by next New Years, I’d be honored to watch it with you and bake.

Take care,

Y/N

Right as you sign your name to the bottom of it, you hear Emma’s key in the lock of the front door. Quickly, you fold the sheet of paper up and slide it into your envelope, then tuck the envelope under your leg on your seat. You’ll address it and mail it tomorrow. With half a second to spare, Emma comes bolting into the apartment, backpack slung lazily over her shoulder and sunglasses still covering her eyes.

“Well,” she sighs the second she sees you, “That fucking sucked. But on the bright side, one of my professors is hot as hell. That will make it increasingly hard to concentrate. But, hey, who needs to pay attention in Gender Analytics anyway?”

She laughs at herself, tossing her backpack onto the floor and pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. You smile and sip from your tea.

“It was our last first day,” you remind her.

She grins, “Always looking at the bright side, aren’t you, miss thing? Water in here still warm?”

She points to the kettle and watches you nod. Emma grabs a mug from the counter and prepares her own tea, then steps to the opposite side of the counter as you two continue to speak.

“How were your classes?” she asks.

“Enlightening,” you tease, “No, it was all introductions and syllabus stuff. We won’t get into the real stuff until Wednesday.”

She nods, “Same here. Oh my gosh, I ran into Ethan and Chris on campus. He asked if I wanted to go out Friday night and I was trying to play hard to get, but you know how I am with him.”

You do. For a girl who claims to be so independent; majoring in Gender Studies and always ranting about men versus women, she gives into Ethan with a snap of her fingers.

“I do,” you nod, ushering her to continue.

“Then, Chris asked if you would come out, because then he would, too, so I said yes!”

She’s cheering, but you’re not quite sure why. You shift in your seat, feeling the paper of the envelope scrape along the bottom of your thigh.

“Why? I don’t want to go out,” you sigh.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like we’re going to study anything, and Chris seems interested. I mean, shit, Y/N, you can’t just bottle yourself up in our apartment and write letters to some guy–”

“Will you stop bringing Rafe up every chance you get?” you say, raising your voice slightly.

“When was the last time you gave a guy a chance?” she snaps back, “Besides Rafe Cameron. Chris is the first dude I’ve seen you look at twice in, like, a year. You even let him kiss you on New Year’s Eve!”

“I was drunk,” you defend.

“You were tipsy,” she corrects, “And it’s not like he took advantage of you.”

“Let me ask you something,” you stand from the chair, the envelope falling to the floor, “If you’re so against Rafe, why did you put that picture in the envelope right after New Years?”

“I’m not against it, babe,” she says, stepping forward to hold her hand out to you, “I’m just concerned. I don’t want you putting all your eggs in one basket. Especially with a guy who lives in the city you’ve been wanting to get away from. You can’t blame me for being hesitant when I’ve never even met the guy, can you?”

You sigh and squeeze her hand, letting your eyes flutter closed only for a moment.

“No, I guess not,” you mumble, “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but me not wanting to go out Friday night has nothing to do with Rafe. I just don’t want to pursue anything with Chris.”

“You don’t want to pursue sex?” she raises an eyebrow.

You wince but cover it by shifting your entire body away from her, letting your hand fall to your side. To distract yourself, you bend down to pick up the letter you’d finished writing to Rafe. She watches but doesn’t verbally acknowledge it.

“No,” you reply.

She watches as you reach for the white wine bottle above the fridge and pour out a glass, taking hefty sips as you think about this conversation.

“Fine,” she shrugs, “I just think you deserve more than sitting in our apartment alone on Friday night watching Golden Girls reruns and writing letters to a guy you met once.”

You don’t respond to that, mostly because you have no argument. Her words, although harsh, are true. And you have no rebuttal against the truth.

Emma takes her tea and walks out of the kitchen, leaving you with your thoughts and your half empty wine glass.

You mailed your letter Tuesday, and now, settling into the couch on Friday evening, you’ve heard nothing from Rafe. You try not to let it bother you, but you don’t fail to notice how that white wine bottle joins you on the couch. After a glass and a half, you start to feel a little better.

Emma emerges from her bedroom in a crop top and black jeans, makeup all done and hair up in a high ponytail. She looks absolutely stunning, and you tell her so.

“Why thank you, sweet roommate,” she grins, doing a twirl for you.

Emma grabs a white claw from the fridge and joins you in the living room, downing about half of it before she informs you that she’s waiting on the boys to arrive.

“Have you gotten another letter?”

You suck in a deep breath, fearing her response if you tell her the truth. She’ll be nice and promise you a response is coming, but you know she’ll drunkenly tell someone – or you – later, that she’s sad that you’re sad, and that Rafe isn’t worth staying home on a perfectly fine Friday night.

“No,” you tell her, pressing your wine glass to your lips once more.

“Aw, Y/N,” she says with a sympathetic smile, “Don’t worry. You’ll get a letter tomorrow, I’m sure.”

You just nod, then give her a smile. The wine fills your mouth and burns your throat slightly as you swallow, but you’re sure that has more to do with your insecurities than it does with the wine.

Ethan and Christian arrive a few minutes later, prompting Emma to finish her white claw and toss the can before opening the door for them. Ethan greets her with a kiss as she invites both of them inside, dragging them into the kitchen to pregame.

“Y/N’s watching Golden Girls,” she informs them, “Beer, E?”

Ethan nods and yells his greeting to you, which makes you smile. Ethan, while loud and obnoxious when drunk, is always so polite and attentive when it comes to saying hello to you. Christian grabs himself a beer, then makes his way into the living room.

“Drink?” he asks you from the threshold of the room.

You shake your head and point to the wine bottle on the coffee table in front of you. He just nods, then awkwardly takes a seat in the armchair beside the couch. It’s the same position both of you sat in the first time you met, and yet, you’d just prefer for him to leave.

“So, you’re not going out with us tonight?” he tries, lifting his beer to his lips.

“No, I just wanted some time alone,” you reply.

He nods, “I get that. Ethan kind of dragged me out.”

“I’m sorry,” you say shyly, knowing how he feels. He just laughs and shrugs, then sips more beer from his can.

Ethan and Emma stumble into the living room, already looking drunk on the alcohol and each other. Ethan’s grip on Emma is firm, but not in a possessive way. It’s to keep her from falling, which you’re sure will be necessary at some point tonight.

“Y/N, you sure you’re okay here?” Emma asks, pouting at the thought of leaving you alone.

“I’m fine, I promise,” you say.

She nods, then tugs the collar of Christian’s shirt to get him to stand. It seems to be her silent way of telling him it’s time to leave.

“You still have my debit card in your Apple wallet?” she questions you as she downs a shot Ethan handed off to her.

“I do.”

“Good,” she nods, making a face as the liquor goes down, “Order Uber Eats or something. On me. I want you to have a good night, too, babe.”

You smile and stand up, giving her a hug. She squeezes you tight, every protective instinct wanting to come out at the thought of leaving you alone.

“Be safe, be careful,” you remind her, raising an eyebrow at Ethan to tell him to keep her out of trouble.

“Yes ma’am,” Emma grins.

She reaches for Ethan’s hand and lets him lead her toward the front door, Christian trailing behind them.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he says quietly.

“Goodnight,” you answer.

“Love you!” Emma calls as Ethan guides her out the front door.

“Love you, too,” you reply, “Call me if you need a ride.”

Emma starts to respond but the door closes before she can, and you walk over to lock it behind them. It’s rounding the corner to nine at night, and the thought of lighting a candle, having a glass of wine, and watching your favorite TV makes your heart swell in your chest.

You do just that, lighting up your favorite candle and placing it on the coffee table beside your wine bottle. You cover yourself with a blanket and get to that sweet spot on the couch – the one that makes you never want to get up. Just as you’re truly cuddled in, happy with your wine, your candle, and your TV, there’s a knock on the front door. You groan and pause your episode, telling yourself Emma probably forgot her keys or phone or Ethan decided he wanted another shot before he had to pay for them at the bar.

Swinging open the front door, everything hits you at once. The fact that you’re in pajama shorts and an old Metallica shirt of your dad’s, the vision of him and your brain processing if it’s real, the smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey – faint, but present, and the ever so tangible idea that you have the apartment to yourself until about three in the morning.

“Hey,” he smirks, taking in your outfit before he holds up a white envelope between his fingers, cigarette hanging effortlessly from his pink lips, “Figured I’d save the post office some trouble and deliver this one myself.”

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