#trash-dot-exe

[trickphotography2]

Rooster wasn't for you. You were opposites in so many ways - he was an extrovert to your introvert. The center of attention to your wallflower. You weren't interested in a one night stand, and he couldn't offer more. So his volunteering to help with Friendsgiving was just a friendly gesture after you returned from a deployment...right?

Word count: 7.8K

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“Just a minute!” you called, swiping a strand of hair from your face. The knocking stopped, and you quickly washed the flour from your hands, drying them on the towel thrown over your shoulder while heading to the door.

And there, standing on your front step as the sun started to rise, was Bradley. His normally styled curls were sleep-mussed, his grey t-shirt clinging to his arms and untucked from his Navy PT sweatpants. The smile on his face grew as he took you in - sweatpants, a baggy sweatshirt dotted with flour, fuzzy socks, and not a stitch of makeup. The difference from your normally put-together appearance was stark. “Morning, Duch.”

“You’re late.” Laughing, he held up a bag of microwavable frozen corn.

“Had to turn around when I forgot my contribution.” Rolling your eyes, you stepped back to let him in, watching to ensure he removed his shoes before following you into the kitchen.

“The turkey’s already thawed and in the sink. I just need you to clean it out, and I can take it from there.” Bradley nodded, tossing you the corn before going to the kitchen. You put it in the freezer and walked to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands before resuming your spot at the counter, picking up your bread lame and staring at the unbaked loaf. A part of you wanted to do a simple score, knowing that it would just be eaten, but the hostess in you demanded a more intricate design. The indecision tore at you. To buy time, you sprinkled the top with more rice flour. 

“Can you get me the trashcan?” Bradley asked, and you nodded, quickly abandoning your project. After you set it beside him and pulled off the cover, he tossed the netting and plastic. You couldn’t help but notice his biceps flex as he shifted the turkey. But you shrunk back when he reached into the cavity and pulled out the giblets and gravy package, shaking your head at his raised eyebrow. He discarded them as you braced yourself, nose scrunching when he removed the neck. “You alright there, Duch?” he teased. 

“Gross.” 

“It’s just a turkey neck,” he said, holding it closer to you. You jumped back.

“I will throat punch you if you touch me with that.” He laughed, edging it closer, and you raised a fist. There was a reason a condition of you hosting everyone for Friendsgiving was someone else cleaning the turkey.

“Didn’t take you for being squeamish.” 

“You would be, too, if your grandpa chased you around the house with it when you were a kid, and you had to lock yourself in a bathroom to escape.” At his barked laugh, you shook your head. “I told that to my ex, and he thought it was funny to put it in his zipper and chase me around the house with it. If floppy dick isn’t attractive, a turkey neck sure as shit isn’t.” 

Bradley choked on a laugh. For as prim and proper as you were at times - hence the callsign Duchess - you sometimes reminded everyone that you also had a military sense of humor. “Maybe you just haven’t seen the right ‘floppy dick,’” he smirked, dropping the neck into the trash. 

Shrugging, you glanced away from him when the oven beeped, alerting that it was preheated. “You’re right. Bob probably has a pretty one.” A rosy flush crept up his cheeks as he turned back to the turkey and forced a laugh. Bradley didn’t want to hear that you were thinking about Bob’s dick. “Put it in this afterward, and I’ll dry it.” After dropping the roasting pan beside him, you rewashed your hands.

Standing in front of your bread, you bit your lip to keep from giggling as you contemplated scoring a dick into the dough but decided to go with a traditional wheat stalk. To your surprise, he grabbed the roll of paper towels by the sink and patted the turkey dry, even the cavity. As you removed the Dutch oven from the preheated oven, he tied up the trash bag and took it out. After putting the bread into the oven, you set the timer and moved to the sink, glancing at Bradley when he came back in. Standing beside you, he reached for the soap and lowered the water temperature before scrubbing his hands. Removing the hand towel from your shoulder, you draped it over his after drying your hands. “Thanks,” he murmured. 

“Thanks for taking care of the turkey.” Standing by the island, you crouched to retrieve a cutting board. The sound of other cabinets closing made you peek over the countertop to see him rooting through the overhead storage. “Are you looking for something?” 

“Coffee mugs.” Biting back a retort about making himself comfortable, you pointed to the right of the stove. You bit your tongue when he grabbed two mugs - including your favorite - and went to the wet bar where the full pot was finished brewing. Placing the cutting board on the counter, you grabbed a knife from the block and were surprised to see a mug of coffee beside your workstation. Murmuring your thanks, you grabbed the creamer from the fridge along with packages of herbs and butter. “What are you making?” Bradley asked.

“A marinade since I didn’t brine the turkey.” 

“You want a hand?” 

“I’ve got it,” you said automatically. “I’ve got a schedule.” He didn’t need to know that you were already behind after falling asleep on the couch early last night and forgetting to set your alarm. And he definitely didn’t need to know that you’d only been awake for 20 minutes before he arrived. If you put your head down and focused, everything would still be ready to eat at the agreed-upon 3:00 PM. Some of your time to get yourself ready would just have to be sacrificed. For some reason, you’d insisted that everyone dress nicely for Friendsgiving. Wearing a uniform almost every day didn’t give you any opportunities to dress up, and sometimes it felt nice to wear something other than jeans and a t-shirt. 

Setting your tablet up, you navigated through the bookmarked recipes and rinsed the herbs before pulling them from the stems. Bradley leaned against the counter beside you and sipped his coffee while glancing around the kitchen. Seeing him relaxing there, one leg crossed over the other and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, made something flutter in your chest. 

“You know, you could have saved a lot of time if you’d just agreed to let Hangman fry the turkey.”

That made you snort. “I just finished my renovations - the last thing I want is for my house to burn down.” It had taken months to get your home exactly how you wanted it. After twelve years in the Navy, you were ready to put down some roots, and buying a home had seemed like the smart thing to do. Living in a construction zone for the last year hadn’t been fun, but a well-timed deployment meant you weren’t there for the worst of it. The results were worth the pain, and you’d jumped at the chance to host when you got back and realized most of the squad had no plans for Thanksgiving. You couldn’t wait for them to see the changes in the Craftsman that had been a definite fixer-upper when you purchased it. The kitchen had been completely gutted and replaced with double ovens and quartz countertops, and the smaller kitchen island had been moved and changed to a wet bar with a wine fridge, replaced with an oversized one. The popcorn texture was scraped from the ceiling throughout the house, the floors redone, and the walls painted. The primary bath had been updated with a large soaker tub and walk-in shower, and you loved the giant closet. The guest bathrooms still needed work, as did the yard, but those were projects for later. 

“It looks good, Duch,” he said softly, gaze holding yours for a long moment. You felt those inconvenient butterflies again and shoved them aside, dropping your eyes to the cutting board. Bradley wasn’t for you. You were too different - he enjoyed nights out at the bar, while you liked to spend time at home. He liked being the center of attention while you preferred to blend into the background. Besides, he didn’t seem much like a relationship guy, given the number of flings he had at the Hard Deck, while the idea of casual dating gave you hives. Pushing away from the counter, Bradley reached under the sink for a trashbag, putting it into the can before washing his hands. He moved closer, nose twitching slightly at the scent of rosemary, and braced his big hands on the countertop beside you. “Alright, what can I do?” 

“You don’t - ”

“Lemme help.” His eyes met yours, smiling when you sighed. 

“Fine. The meat injector is in here,” you said, bumping one of the drawer handles with your hip. “And I’ll need the chicken stock from the pantry.” Pouring the stock, herbs, and a couple of sticks of butter into a stockpan, you handed Bradley a silicone spatula and told him to stir. You rolled your lips together to keep from smiling when he pulled his phone from his pocket and watched videos of turkey injections before declaring he would be in charge of it. Reluctantly, you agreed. Once the marinade had cooled, the bird was given a second drying, you had finished the coffee, and Bradley had rewatched the video three times, it was time. He studied the turkey through narrowed eyes as you tried not to laugh. “You want to - ”

“Ah!”

“The breast and thighs - ”

“I’m doing it, Duch,” he cut you off. 

“Well, remember that if it turns out dry.” The unimpressed look Bradley shot you made you grin as you put your chin in your hand and motioned for him to proceed. The tip of his tongue poked through his lips as he filled the injector and hovered the needle over the turkey. His eyes darted to you, and you raised an eyebrow. “You can tap out at any time, Rooster.” Instead of replying, he pierced the meat and pushed down on the plunger. You couldn’t help but laugh when he yelped, marinade spraying in his face after pushing too hard. But when he reached to wipe it away, you caught his hands. “Don’t put turkey germs all over your face,” you scoffed, towing him toward the sink. You held his chin while cleaning his face with wet paper towels. 

“Now you’re just messing with me,” he chuckled when you scrubbed his mustache, but he didn’t pull away. His breath was hot on your hand, and his smile soft when you reached up to dab away a speck of garlic in his eyebrow. Balling up the paper towel, you shook your head. 

“Wash your face with soap to make sure you don’t get salmonella. Cyclone’ll kill me if you’re out with food poisoning.” Turning on the water, you ensured it was warm before getting a clean washcloth. The oven timer beeped as you dug through the linen closet, and you hurried back into the kitchen, throwing the towel on the sink beside him and grabbing the pot holders to take out your bread. Once it was on the wire rack to cool, you moved to the turkey. 

“What’re you doing?” Bradley demanded, turning while drying his face. 

“Taking over.” You gasped when he closed the space between you in a few strides, wrapped his arm around your waist, and lifted you away from the counter. “Bradshaw! What the hell?”

“Told you I’m doing it,” he chuckled in your ear. Once back on your feet, you spun in his hold and stared at him. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his cocky smirk. 

“Fine, but if you waste more of my marinade, you’re out of my kitchen.”

“Deal.” 

Thankfully, there were no further incidents, but you kept a close eye on him while slicing up a loaf of bread you’d baked two days before and let go stale for stuffing. After covering the roasting tray with tin foil, the bird went back into the fridge to rest for a few hours. “Thanks, Rooster. I guess I’ll see you later?”

“What else can I do?” 

“You don’t - ” 

“I want to help. I haven’t…” his eyes dropped to the floor as he shrugged. “I never got to do this before. My mom and I would always go to my cousin’s for Thanksgiving before she died, and it always seemed kinda fun.” 

Everyone on the squad knew that Bradley’s parents had passed when he was young. He didn’t mention them often, but you noticed he’d get quiet sometimes when people talked about their families. So his volunteering the information felt important, and glancing at the clock showed that you were still behind schedule. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” he asked, excitement flashing in his eyes. 

“Don’t look so happy - you’re doing prep work. You can peel potatoes, assemble the veggie tray, and roast the garlic. I need to work on sides and desserts.” 

And he did. Bradley followed your instructions, grimacing while peeling potatoes over the trash can until you took out a plastic bag and put it in the sink for him to do it there. You kept an eye on him as he cut the spuds into uniform pieces after explaining that they wouldn’t cook evenly for the mashed potatoes, somewhat worried that he would cut himself. Rather than deal with the onions, you delegated the task and tried not to laugh at his near-constant sniffles and swipes at his watery eyes as you diced peppers. Once you dug out the hand-me-down crystal platters, he arranged the veggies you’d prepped the night before while making pies. Dips were mixed, and cans of olives and bottles of pickles were opened and drained before being plated.

Other than bumping into one another when going for the fridge at the same time, it wasn’t too bad sharing the kitchen. The coffee pot was quickly emptied, and Bradley brewed another between shredding blocks of cheese. You sang along with your playlists, his deep voice joining on a few songs while teasing you about others. When you sang about karma being a kink, he watched your hips sway at the sink, clenching his jaw when you sang a breathy ‘oh god.’ 

He slid the roasting tray into the oven when the turkey was rested and ready to cook. “Now what?” he asked, turning to look at you. 

“Now we keep an eye on it for about four hours. Baste and re-inject it every hour or so,” you shrugged. A glance at his watch showed it would be almost 2:00 PM by the time it was ready. As though realizing it would still be hours before eating, his stomach grumbled its discontent. He blushed when you smirked. “I guess the least I can do is make my sous chef breakfast. Get the muffins and butter from the fridge for me.”  

“Did you make these?” he asked, setting the containers beside you as you heated a skillet on the stove.

“I did - family tradition is grilled muffins on Thanksgiving morning. You okay with blueberry?” At his nod, you started slicing muffins in half. Rather than giving you space, Bradley stayed at your elbow. A comfortable silence fell, broken only by sizzling butter. His gaze met yours when you glanced up at him, and a smile tugged at his mouth. 

An image of reaching up to bury your fingers in his messy curls and tugging his mouth down to meet yours flashed through your mind. Your fingers twitched with the urge to do it, eyes drifting to his mouth and lingering there for a moment too long. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you forced yourself to look away, heat creeping into your face. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he reached up to shift a strand of hair that had fallen from your messy bun. “I’m glad you're back, Duch,” he said, voice slightly raspy. 

Forcing a laugh, you plated two muffins and handed them to him. “Everyone misses the mom friend of the group when she’s deployed.” Your eyes darted to his stomach when it growled again, just in time to see the front of his sweats twitch. Pretending you didn’t see it, you nodded to the living room. “The parade is recording if you want to watch it.” 

Bradley opened his mouth as though he would say something before taking the apparent dismissal. Alone in the kitchen, you touched your cheek and felt warm skin. With a deep breath, you grilled yourself a muffin as the sound of the broadcasters came from the living room. After topping up your coffee, you joined him. He sprawled on one end of the couch, plate balanced on a thigh as he sipped his coffee. Sitting on the opposite side, you crossed your legs and let out a soft groan. Only a couple of hours standing in the kitchen and your back was already starting to protest. “What else do you have to do this morning?” he asked after a moment.

Mentally running through your list, you sighed. “I need to do some cleaning and get into the attic. I’ll start cooking a bit closer to noon, so things just have to be warmed up.”

“What do you need from the attic?” 

“My nice china. My parents bought my sister and I sets for our hope chests when we were kids.”

“What’s a hope chest?”

“You know, stuff you’d need once you get married?” When his eyebrows shot up, you shrugged. “They weren’t really serious about it - it was more of a joke. But, every once in a while, they’d buy something for us and put it away for when we were older and say it was for our hope chest.” Taking a bite of muffin, you gave him a sad smile, “Mine’s more of a ‘hopeless’ chest,’ though. I guess they finally gave up on me getting married because they gave it to me when they sold their house and moved closer to the grandkids. I figured I’d get it out and use it instead of having it sit in the cardboard boxes it’s been in for over two decades.” Something passed over Bradley’s face but disappeared in an instant. Wanting to change the subject, you asked, “What do you usually do for Thanksgiving?”

“Nothing. It’s just another Thursday.” When you frowned, he lifted a shoulder. “A couple of times, I went to the Officer’s Club, or someone would invite me over. But most of the time, I just make myself a turkey sandwich and catch up on sleep. What about you?”

“If I’m not with my family, then this. When I first commissioned, I went to the O-Club with some friends but missed cooking and hanging out. And you know how hard it is to go home for the holidays.” He nodded even though he didn’t. Bradley never asked for the time off unless he was dating someone who insisted on it. With no family to visit, he was happy to volunteer when there was reduced manning and allow others to take leave. “So I invited a couple of people from my squad over, and that was that.” 

“It’s a lot of work.”

“It is,” you agreed. “But it’s worth it.” Bradley’s fingers curled around his plate and in his sweatpants, his chest expanding as he took a deep breath. When he shifted forward, you quickly stood and reached out your hand for his empty plate. “Do you want another one?” Shaking his head, he stood and took your plate. 

“Do you?” Swallowing hard, you shook your head and watched him walk back into the kitchen. Biting back a groan, you gave yourself a moment to collect yourself. Things had been…different… since you’d gotten home. And as much as you enjoyed these quiet moments alone with Bradley, it also stung. You’d thought the time away would help, but as soon as you were back, it was like no time had passed. He was still there, partnering for foosball in the Ready Room and coaxing you to go to the Hard Deck. Making sure that you sat next to him in briefings. Offering to look at your car when it made a noise.

Friends. That’s what friends do for each other. After all, he did the same for Nat. 

Collecting the empty coffee mugs, you followed him to the kitchen and watched as Bradley cleaned up the mess and set it in the sink. “Don’t feel like you have to stick around, Rooster. I can handle getting everything ready.” 

“I’m happy to help if you want me here. I’d just sit at my house watching TV and wait to come back if I went home.” 

Chewing the inside of your lip, you bit back a wave of want. “Don’t think this gets you out of the dress code,” you replied, forcing your voice to be cool while allowing your eyes to run the length of him. “I’m serious - slacks and button-downs, not sweats.” 

Laughing, he snapped a salute. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll make sure I run home and change to pass your inspection.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur, punctuated by moments of stark clarity. 

Bradley’s hands on your waist as you climbed down the attic stairs. 

Biceps flexing as he carried your Christmas tree to a spare bedroom to set up tomorrow.

His elbow bumping yours as he dried the china and set it aside.  

The look of concentration on his face when he basted and injected the turkey again.

His body passing close to yours as he emptied the dishwasher and you assembled dishes.

Just after noon, he went home to get ready while you showered. People were due to arrive around 1:30 PM, and you were back on schedule with your unexpected assistant. 

Sooner than you expected, there was a knock at the door. Groaning, you capped your mascara, shimmied into your black sheath cocktail dress, and went to answer it. Bradley stood on the porch, having changed into a pair of slacks and one of his nicer Hawaiian shirts, hands in his pockets. Folded over his arm was a coat, and he grinned at you when he caught you looking at it. “Wasn’t sure if I would pass inspection without a sports coat,” he chuckled, allowing his gaze to rake over you. A flush rose on your cheeks as you reached behind yourself to pull up the dress zipper. It caught just above the top of your thong.  “You look… you’re fine.” Chuckling, he shook his head. 

“Turn around, Duch.” After a beat, you stepped back to allow him inside and did as he said.

“There’s a hook and eye at the top,” you said and inhaled sharply when you felt his fingers brush the back of your neck. The smell of his cologne enveloped you, and you bit back a moan when his hand moved to your lower back and tugged the zipper up. After a beat, you turned to face him and were surprised by how close he was. His mouth curved into a smile as he looked down at you, hand resting on your waist. 

“You look fine, too,” he said softly. Your hands itched to move to his chest. Bradley’s eyes drifted to your lips, and your breath caught as his fingers flexed around you. If asked, you would have sworn you felt the lightest pressure pulling you closer - but then someone knocked on the door. Stepping out of his hold, you smoothed your hair down and ignored the brief moment his hands hung in suspension before being shoved back into his pockets. 

“I came early to see if you needed a hand,” Phoenix said when you opened the door. In her hands was a tray, and she’d also chosen a cocktail dress for the occasion. Her normally tied-back hair was loose around her shoulders. 

“Hey,” you smiled, hoping that you weren’t blushing. Nat’s eyes shifted over your shoulders and narrowed slightly. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you - seeing of Duch needed help.”

“He’s been here all morning,” you blurted out, flushing when both sets of eyes landed on you. “He’s taking care of the turkey.” 

“The guy who hates cooking is in charge of the main dish?” Nat smirked. “Probably would have been better letting Hangman fry it.”

“He’s being supervised,” you assured, glancing over your shoulder to see him rolling his eyes. Stepping back to let Nat into the house, you accidentally bumped into Bradley, who held your hips to steady you. Quickly moving away from his touch, you took the tray from her and motioned for them to follow you into the kitchen. “I haven’t had a chance to put any drinks out, but there’s some coffee left and wine chilling. I still need to make the cocktails, but there’s also soda and flavored water.” The two followed you, exchanging a look that you missed.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Bradley tossed his coat onto the wet bar and moved to the oven, flipping on the light to check the turkey before glancing at his watch. “I need to do the last basting, right?” 

“It’s about that time,” you agreed, glancing at the clock. Digging through a drawer, you pulled out an apron and put it on, crossing the strings behind your back before tying them in a bow across your stomach. You thought you heard a murmured ‘Jesus Christ’ when you turned around to see him holding the pot holders. 

You could feel Nat watching as you worked together to remove the turkey and then return it to the oven, popping olives into her mouth and smirking. “Looks like you guys have it down,” she said. “Don’t need my help at all.”

“Nope,” Bradley said, drowning out your, “You can feel free to relax.” 

“Might as well do something since I’m here,” she shrugged, pushing off her elbows. “What can I do?” 

And so, with a third set of hands, you set them to making large batches of seasonal cocktails while you cut the bread you’d made that morning, covering it with slices of brie and dried cranberries before drizzling it with honey. A quick scroll through your schedule gave you the times to start cooking, and you preheated the second oven.

The house slowly filled as more of the squad arrived. Countertops were quickly covered with their contributions - thankfully, more than beer and wine, and only a few sides repeated -  and you mentally shifted your schedule to accommodate the additional dishes.

Mav, Penny, and Amelia were the last to arrive, with her new bartender, Georgia, in tow. Penny had asked you if she could invite her, given that the woman was new to the area and didn’t have anywhere else to spend the holiday. You’d replied with, “The more, the merrier,” just like you had for everyone else’s requests to bring a guest. 

But you regretted that sentiment when you saw how she zeroed in on Bradley, staying close to him while you worked in the kitchen. The few times you broke away to mingle - showing off your renovated home, making sure that everyone’s glasses were topped off and that they didn’t need anything - you saw her hanging off his arm, giving him a simpering smile that set your teeth on edge. And, while she’d adhered to the dress code, you weren’t exactly thrilled to see that her breasts were nearly spilling out of her low-cut dress. 

“You need anything, Duchess?” Payback asked, setting down the pitcher of spiced ginger pear and bourbon. 

“I’m good,” you replied, wiping your hands on the dish rag thrown over your shoulder and blowing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Turkey should be done in a few minutes; once it rests, we can eat.” 

“Thanks for doing this,” he said, glancing over at your full house. Aviators were sprawled across your living room and spilled out into the backyard. It was exactly what you’d hoped for when redesigning the house - plenty of space to comfortably entertain. 

“I’m happy to, Payback,” you smiled, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. “Beats having a quiet house for the holidays.” 

“Want me to get the turkey out for you?” 

“I’ve got it covered,” a voice said behind you, and you couldn’t help but wonder about Bradley's slightly sharp tone as you pulled away from the hug. 

“Got it,” Payback replied, raising an eyebrow and lifting his hands. “Let me know if you need anything, Duch.” Squaring your shoulders, you turned to face the man behind you and forced a smile. 

“I’ll clear off a spot on the stove for you to put the pan, and then we’ll let it sit for half an hour.” 

“Then it’ll be done?”

“Then you’ll have officially made your first turkey,” you nodded. When the timer went off, Bradley quickly pulled the bird from the oven and set it on the stove, closely inspecting his work. 

“Does it look right?”

“Yes, relax.”

“Did you make it?” a smokey voice asked, and you felt your shoulders rise. Glancing at Georgia, you saw Bradley’s eyes dart between you.

“He did,” you answered, smiling at the woman. 

“I just followed her directions,” he replied. 

“It looks great!” Georgia giggled. Forcing a smile, you undid the apron strings and pulled it off before excusing yourself. You could feel eyes on you as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom and shut the door, retreating to your en suite.

After washing your hands for the millionth time, you quickly applied lotion while examining your appearance in the mirror. Compared to Georgia, you looked matronly with your hair pulled back and a higher neckline. Sure, your dress was classy - somewhat tight and falling just above your knees - but not attention-grabbing. 

Not that you were trying to grab anyone’s attention.

A knock on your bedroom door startled you, and you peeked out to call, “Who is it?”

“Rooster.” Glancing back in the mirror, you saw your cheeks were slightly pink and scowled at your reflection.

“Get it together,” you hissed before turning off the light and going to open the door. And there he was, smiling down at you.

“Your phone was going off,” he said, holding up your cell. When your eyes flitted toward it, the device unlocked to show your family group chat was going off. Taking it from him, you swiped up to see videos and pictures. A smile crept onto your mouth as you clicked the first and heard your older sister’s voice.

“Guess what?” she said before tossing a card down and throwing her hands up. Cheers and laughs broke out, and you could hear your nephew complaining as your grandmother said, “Looks like Mom won!”

The camera panned to show your other nephew licking whipped cream off his pie, utterly unfazed by the family now pounding on the table in a drumroll. Catching Bradley’s interested expression, you moved so he could see the screen. Scrolling through the other videos, you watched your mom roll down a hill with the boys and your dad holding a glass of wine with your brother-in-law. The sight made your heart clench, and you sighed. Being away from family on the holidays was the worst. Thankfully, they all understood that your job didn’t always give you the flexibility to be with them.

“Looks like a fun group.”

“They are. I’m glad I get to spend Christmas with them.” He nodded, a flicker of sadness and something else in his eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Mav’s already told me I’m spending it with him and Penny.”

“Sounds like fun.” You knew a complicated dynamic existed there but didn’t want to pry. His shoulder lifted, eyes drifting to your now dark phone. And that’s when you recognized the look on his face - longing. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” When he saw your unconvinced expression, he sighed. “Holidays kind of suck when you don’t have family.” 

“I’m sorry, Bradley.” Something in his expression changed when you said his name and reached out to touch his arm. His eyes darted from your hand to your face, and you quickly pulled away. But he was faster, catching your fingers and holding tightly. Your breath caught with the intensity of his gaze, and he stepped into your room. His breath was warm on your face when you refused to retreat. Lifting your chin, you saw his throat bob when he swallowed.  

“Hey, there’s a timer going off,” Bob called down the hall. 

“Be right there,” you yelled back, pushing lightly against Bradley’s chest and forcing space between you. But when you tried to shake off his hand, he held fast. “I need to go, or something will burn,” you breathed. Reluctantly, he nodded and released you. 

You’d already removed the green bean casserole and macaroni and cheese from the oven when Bradley reappeared. Unsurprisingly, Georgia glued herself to his side as he sipped his drink. Though you could feel him looking at you, you refused to meet his gaze. 

When everything was ready, you looked over your kitchen and nodded approvingly. When the guys offered to carve the turkey, you turned them all down and delegated that task to Bradley.  “He earned it,” you said, glancing at him before busying yourself with opening another bottle of wine. With Coyote and Fanboy at his elbows critiquing his cuts, you steered clear of that part of the kitchen and chatted with Penny while pulling out silverware. 

Hangman refused to let you go around the room and tell people that food was ready, instead pulling out a chair and helping you stand on it before whistling loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Dinner’s served!” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, his arm around your hips to keep you steady. “Thank you for bringing something, and please help yourself. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone - I’m glad I get to spend it with you.” Lifting your wine glass, you took a quick sip and laughed when Hangman lifted you off the chair to set you back on the floor. 

Choosing to wait until your guests had a plate, you leaned against the wet bar and smiled tiredly, watching your hard work be devoured. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone at the table, so the group spread into the living room. You took a few pictures and sent them to your family. 

Someone stepped in front of you, pulling your attention from your phone. “You’re not gonna eat?” Bradley asked. 

“Just waiting for the line to clear,” you replied, forcing a nonchalant tone. The corner of his mouth twitched as he shook his head. 

“Come on, Duch.” His fingers curled around yours, drawing you from the counter and into the line. Grabbing one of the smaller salad plates, you let him push you in front of him, taking small amounts of almost every dish while he served himself larger portions. After topping up your wine, you walked to the living room and felt him behind you, ignoring Georgia's attempt to get his attention. He motioned for you to take the last spot on the couch and sat on the floor. “Jesus,” he moaned after taking the first bite of turkey.

“Mmmm,” you agreed. “You did a good job.”

“Who would have thought the guy who made the barracks evacuate after he burned ramen would make a good turkey,” Nat smirked. Bradley flipped her off, unable to keep the proud grin off his face. 

Dessert was eaten, and the last bottle of wine finished before 7:00 PM. The house felt quiet as it slowly emptied, and you hugged everyone goodbye. Already, tentative plans for a Christmas party formed even as you fought off a yawn. After assuring Penny that you were fine cleaning up, she left with Mav and Amelia in tow. 

Which left only Bradley. 

The sound of running water drew you back into the kitchen, and you paused in the doorway at the sight of him rinsing silverware and loading the dishwasher, a hand towel thrown over his shoulder. “I can take care of that,” you said quickly. Bradley glanced at you and shook his head.

“Relax, I’ve got it. Can the plates go in here, or do they need to be hand-washed?”

“They can go in there.” Ignoring the order, you walked around the house, picked up empty glasses and forgotten dishes, and set them by the sink. Donning your apron, you surveyed the leftovers, “Did you want any of this?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a plate.” Nodding, you started to put the food away. Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot left. Everyone had been happy to take leftovers, and you were glad you’d had the forethought to buy containers for them to keep. 

The silence was comfortable, and you were stifling yawns with the back of your hand. Between the turkey, wine, and lack of sleep the night before, you were ready to change back into comfy clothes and pass out. Without prompting, Bradley started to cut up what was left of the turkey, placing some in the containers you’d portioned for him before putting the rest in the fridge. You started the dishwasher when it was full and wiped down counters. After tossing the rest of the turkey, he took the trash out.

When the door swung shut, you took the opportunity to stretch, moaning when your back popped before bending at the waist and letting your arms dangle. As much as you enjoyed hosting, your body took a beating, being on your feet all day. You would definitely need to invest in some mats to make the kitchen floor more comfortable before your next full day of cooking. 

Even when the door opened, you felt too good stretching to stand up straight. You heard Bradley chuckle and then the sound of water running, followed by the snap of a trashbag being shaken out. Finally, you stood and threw out a hand to steady yourself when the world spun. Hands wrapped around your hips and drew you closer. “You okay, honey?” 

The term of endearment caught you off-guard and had clearly slipped out by the flush on Bradley’s cheeks. “Honey?” you echoed, quirking a brow.

“Duchess,” he corrected. 

“Rooster.” Your hands rested on his forearms, feeling the muscles flex as his fingers clenched around your hips. Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest brush his. His lips quirked into a wry smile. “What?” 

“Just waiting for something to interrupt.” At your questioning look, he chuckled. “Been trying to kiss you all day, and something always gets in the way.” 

“What?” you breathed, shock written across your face. 

“Been thinkin’ about kissing you since that night at the Hard Deck, actually.” 

“T-the Hard Deck?”

“Yup. Before you deployed.” Heat rushed to your face at the memory - or lack thereof - of your going away party. There had been one too many shots, and you had a vague recollection of Bradley driving the Bronco. Of him telling you not to throw up while he helped Nat into her apartment before taking you home. Half carrying you to bed and making sure you had water and medicine - warm hands on your face and a raspy laugh.  

“When I was drunk?”

“When you told me you liked me.” Mortified, you felt a sudden flush of heat and tried to pull away, but he held firm. “But that you didn’t think I was a relationship guy.” 

“Roo - ”

“I am. A relationship guy,” he clarified, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “For the right woman.” Your mouth was dry, unable to force out a single word. “I was gonna say something before you left, but you avoided me. And then you were gone for three months.”

“I… you messaged me.” 

“Wasn’t exactly something I wanted to say over email,” Bradley chuckled. “I like you too.” 

“What about Georgia?”

That drew him up short, and a confused look crossed his face. “The bartender?” 

“Yeah. She… I mean, she’s clearly interested. And more your type.” Groaning, he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Honey, I’m not interested in her. And she’s not… ask Nat. She’s been on my case about my” - he lifted a hand to make air quotes - “‘hoe phase’ since I got out here.” That drew a snort from you, and Bradley pulled away to smile at you bashfully. “Gimme a chance, Duch.” 

Hesitating a moment, you took another deep breath and gave the butterflies in your stomach free rein. Hands shaking, you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded, unable to keep from matching his smile. 

Moving slowly, as though afraid to spook you, Bradley leaned down and brushed his nose to yours. “As much as this is doin’ things for me,” he said softly, pulling at the apron strings tied at your stomach, “I think we’re done in the kitchen tonight.” Biting your lip, you could only nod, leaning away as he tugged it over your head, balled the apron up, and tossed it behind you. With his hands back on your hips, he walked you backward and lifted you onto the counter, stepping between your knees. “This alright?” 

“Yeah,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and run a hand through his curls. Bradley's eyes closed when you lightly scratched his scalp, and he swayed closer. His breath ghosted over your lips and - 

“Fucking Christ,” he groaned when his phone started to buzz. You jumped, feeling the vibration against your shin, and laughed as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Your breath caught, feeling his lips on your throat. When he reached into his pocket and scowled down at the screen, you saw Nat’s name before he sent the call to voicemail. 

Leaving the phone on the counter, he smirked and guided your legs around his waist as your arms went around his neck. His hands cupped your ass as he lifted you. In the doorway to the kitchen, he paused long enough for you to slap the walls until the lights turned off before walking toward the couch and lowering himself onto it. Your knees dug into the cushion on either side of him, forcing the hem of your dress higher. 

From this angle, he had to look up at you. Hands migrated from your ass to thighs, callouses lightly scraping and fingertips darting under the fabric to trace shapes on your skin and drag the hem higher. Lightly, you ran your thumb along the scars on his chin before ghosting over the ones on his cheek that had always intrigued you. A moan rumbled from his throat as he followed your touch, mustache tickling the delicate skin of your wrist. Blushing, you wondered how it would feel on your inner thighs. He chuckled, kissing your cheek, “What’re you thinking that’s got you red?” 

Rather than answer, you turned and kissed him - just a light brush of your lips against his that seemed to catch him off-guard. You stared at one another for a long moment until he guided you closer. His mustache prickled, not unpleasantly but different, when he kissed you again. It was sweet and unhurried, a direct contradiction to the hardness you felt straining against his zipper. 

Pulling away, you smiled tentatively down at him, seeing the remnants of your lipstick on his mouth. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and you leaned forward to press your lips to them. “Hi,” you said softly.

“Hey.” 

“You like me?” 

“Yeah. You like me?” 

Rather than reply, you captured his lips again. “Drunk words,” you said between kisses, “are sober thoughts.” He barked a laugh before tugging you closer and licking into your mouth. 

“Shoulda said something earlier,” he chided, gripping your ass tightly. “Coulda been doing this for a long time.” 

“Blame the tequila.” The word came out as a moan when he trailed kisses down your neck, and you felt him smile. 

“Thank god for tequila,” he mumbled, nuzzling your breasts and making you grind down on him. Bradley caught your hands when your fingers trailed down his chest to tug at his shirt. “Nuh-uh, honey. Gonna take you on a couple of dates before we get to that.”

“What?” 

“No more ‘hoe phase.’” 

“Maybe just one more night?” That made him laugh again as he shook his head.

“No, Duch. Wanna do this right with you.” 

“I’ve heard the stories. I know you would.” When you rocked against him, he pinned your hand at your lower back and stilled you with a hand on your hip. He growled your name and smirked when your thighs clenched.

“Liked that, huh?” he teased. “Ms. Prim and Proper Duchess likes to be bossed around?” Heat flooded your face, and he chuckled again. Without warning, he stood, and you squeaked, trying to keep from falling. But he held you steady and set you on your feet, towering over you. “Can I stay over?” You didn’t hesitate in nodding, and his kiss was rough before he pulled away and swatted your ass. “Go get ready for bed while I lock up.” 

When you emerged from the bathroom, face cleaned and in your panties and a tank top, Bradley was lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers. Groaning, he looked at you and shook his head. “Where are those sweats from this morning?” 

“You want me to wear sweats to bed?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe and raising an eyebrow. His hand drifted down to his hard cock, squeezing lightly. “You’ve seen me in less at the beach.”

“Trying to do this right, honey.” Rolling your eyes, you walked to your dresser and pulled on sweatpants before digging out a pair of fuzzy socks. He laughed when you tossed them at his head, setting them aside as you circled the bed to lie beside him. Quickly, he pinned you beneath him, settling in the cradle of your thighs. As he licked into your mouth, you felt his hips rolling against yours. “Still too damn sexy,” he murmured against your lips. 

“Housewife lingerie does it for you?” you teased, running your hands through his hair. Rather than answer, he looped an arm under your knee and drew it up, allowing you to feel him better. “Fuck.”

“Not tonight.” 

And, unfortunately, he was true to his word. Anytime your hands strayed to his boxers, he pinned them over your head, seemingly content to tease and kiss all night. 

Eventually, though, you could no longer keep from yawning. After setting his alarm - Bradley was on duty in the morning while you’d taken the day off - he tucked you against him, your back to his chest. His cock pressed against your ass as he kissed your shoulder, hand slipping under your shirt to brush the underside of your breast. Sighing, he murmered, “Best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.” 

You couldn’t help but agree.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Do I think that Bradley has a raging domesticity kink? Possibly.

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[prokopetz]

Recently I've been wanting to play a metroidvania, and I realized I don't have that many in my backglog. I was looking through some of your game recs like the free games post which made me think to ask you (since you're a Metroidvania Person). So: I was wondering if you had any recommendations for metroidvanias? Ideally on the cheaper side (like, under $10).

Cheap metroidvanias which I'd actually recommend, eh? In the interest of keeping this list relatively short, I'm going to construe the term "metroidvania" narrowly and exclude anything which isn't a 2D side-scrolling platfomer. (i.e., so 3D exploration platformers, top down Zelda-likes, etc. are off the table.) I'll also warn you that I have a fairly high tolerance for jank, so maybe check the reviews first!

Anyway:

A Game with a Kitty 1 & Darkside Adventures*†

Alwa's Awakening^

Aquaria†

Axiom Verge 2^

Blue Rabbit

Dreaming Sarah

Eldritchvania*

Environmental Station Alpha

Ex Vitro*

Flynn: Son of Crimson^

forma.8

Frauki's Adventure!

Gato Roboto^

Grizzland

Guardian

Hunter's Legacy

IN THE DARK

Kalinur

Lorera*

Maya Star

Mech Chip

The Messenger^

Mini Ghost

Momodora: Reverie Under the Moonlight

Moonlaw*

Mystik Belle^

Nyaruru Fishy Fight

Omega Strike

OUTBUDDIES DX^

Pankapu^

PSYCRON

qomp

Saira*†

Simona's Requiem

SJ-19 Learns To Love

Souldiers^

Spooky Ghosts Dot Com

Sun Wukong VS Robot

Super Skelemania

Tiny Dangerous Dungeons

Trash Quest

Treasure Hunter Man 2^†

Treasures of the Aegean^

The Vagrant^

Visual Out

Wenjia

Wild West Crops

William and Sly: Classic Collection*

Xenosis*

Zapling Bygone^

* free ^ on sale at the time of this posting; may not still be under $10 if you're viewing this post after the sale ends † older title that's not 100% compatible with modern OSes, so you may need to do a lot of fiddling to get your gamepad working

[electraslight]

(Raises hand) I'm actually fascinated by how you design Hunter and all your personal choices to tweak, redesign, and choose the style of clothes he wears I absolutely adore it and would love to know your thought process behind it all and what you think of his character speaking of him I also Absolutely wanna hear whatever you have locked and loaded about the Wittebane brothers

Oh yes yes yes. im so excited

Hunter is like. my favorite character hands down. I cannot overstate to you how much he means to me, especially as an ex evangelical, as it is highly personal lol but just know i like him VERY MUCH. I have a lot of character stuff id like to do with him someday, but comics are hard lol, so ive only done one.

i dont have a specific name for what drives my clothing choices for him. handmade. utilitarian but personalized. like hes wearing every article of clothing he owns at once. 'going out to take out the trash' core.

i usually dress him in human realm clothing bc i feel he doesnt rlly like much about the BI and prefers to dress casually. most of my outfits for him are inspired by his human realm clothing or general fashion whims i have, like denim ankle length skirts and the like. i dont stick too close to any one thing bc hes mostly experimenting, below are some doodles i did

im working on a bigger wittebane brothers post (i like making rlly long analysis stuff so bear with me) but im nervous to post it bc i have a specific take that i feel may be unwelcome bc of a term i will use (as if saying belos did a bad thing is anything new. he fucking murdered and ate his brother anything new i call him is just a dot on the infinite list) but i'm a lover of gothic fiction so gritty analysis is what will happen.

thank you for your ask, i would love to answer any and all hunter questions so i can draw him over and over like this.

(i think he looks nice with long hair. i know he hates it but im his father i decide what he wants)

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hellllo, I saw this post from you about the 141 with a reader with past sa, and I wanted to ask if you could do one where reader mentions something that happened to them, without realizing it was sa (pls with König, I just love him). I hope this is ok for you to write

Ooh that’s a good one! I love writing for him honestly!

tw: mentions of sexual assault, mild description but nothing graphic, trauma, comfort

König loves your voice. He especially loves all your stories of your life before him, all the highs and the lows, the victories and the pitfalls, and everything else in between. His favorite part of getting together with you, is learning about you. He just loves you so damn much.

So when you’re lying in bed with the TV playing and you’re curled up against him, head on his chest, gently tracing the skin of his pecs under your fingers, he’s in heaven. He’s indulging your guilty pleasure of watching trash TV, he could never understand these dating shows but he gets a laugh out of seeing you get so worked up about them and maybe he gets a little invested too.

“Ugh poor girl.” You sighed watching the couples argue, “I feel for her, my ex was the same way.”

“How do you mean?” He’s running his fingers over your arm, drawing figures absentmindedly,

“He was just kind of manipulative and gas-lighty, always got what he wanted.” You shrugged, “Like, he’d initiate things and I wouldn’t be interested or I’d be too tired and he’d still keep trying and we’d wind up doing it. Like I said always got his way.” You seemed nonchalant about what you said, so much so that it took him a second to process what you said.

And then König’s blood went cold and his feather touches slowed to a halt,

“Schatz…” he breathed, his heart starting to race, he wasn’t sure how to handle this new information. Were you aware and just putting on a brave face? Or…

“Don’t sweat it, Köni, for all his aggressive persuasion he was a shitty lover.” You chuckled, confused as to why he stopped stroking your skin, yet as the words came out of your mouth paired with his reaction, you started to wonder if you messed up.

“Liebling, is that true?” His voice was even as he continued rubbing your arm, he moved to sit up and brought you with him,

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’m over that asshole anyway.”

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” He turned to face you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face

“About what, my ex?”

“About his ‘persuasiveness’.” His tone hardened as the word came out of his mouth, he’s not big on sugar coating, but this is delicate and should be handled carefully,

“Not really? I mean, I’ve mentioned it to a friend before but that’s about it.”

He watched you carefully, eyes tracking every centimeter of your face, watching, waiting for a reaction, waiting for a response.

“Why do you ask?”

He stayed silent, still watching you. Waiting for you to piece things together, waiting to catch you should you realize what you just said. He watched gears turning in your head but still you struggled, is it worth bringing this up and helping you realize it? Would it do more harm than good to protect you from the truth? He wondered if a part of you realized but you’re protecting yourself from the truth so it’s forcing your mind to stop from connecting the dots. Is he even equipped to deal with the fallout after you piece it together? Would it be worse to encourage you to speak to a professional?

“I’m just worried, liebling, what you’ve described isn’t exactly a good thing.” He hated picking and choosing his words so carefully, it only made his anxiety worse and he worries he wouldn’t be able to help you with how busy his own mind is. But for you, he’d do anything. Whether it’s choosing his words carefully, gently guiding you to a point of realization, or finding your ex and breaking every bone in his body.

“Well, yeah, I know that but…” and then it hit you, he watched your eyes widen as the gears all clicked into place, “it wasn’t like that, König. That’s different.”

“It really isn’t, schatz. I’m so sorry, but it’s not different at all.” His voice is so soft that you wouldn’t have heard him if you were so close. He pulled you in to sit on his lap, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tightly against his chest. He’s got your head tucked under his chin, one hand pressing your head against him, his fingers running through your hair,

“That’s not what happened.” Your voice was small as your own arms came up to wrap around his back, your body preparing you for the tears you were fighting to shed,

“It’s ok, liebling, I’ve got you. You’ll always be safe here.”

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 11

pt 10 here

Content: direct cont of last chap, reader wears heels, implied reader has boobies O-O, soooo much hand holding it should be considered lewd, 2 pics to help see what I picture (underlined text), date hehe, reader wouldn't mind if Choso kidnapped them 0-0, they play battle ship, jokingly implied Choso is an escort(?), reader is kinda mean, reassurance, idk just my usual bs??? just reader nd Choso being cute man what else can I say. Word Count: 11.9k (wtf, im sorry)

(a.n) this was so long, I know, pls excuse any mistakes- I underestimated how hard it was to edit something longer than 5k words. ALSO???? take this as a celebration of me hitting 1k followers!! yayyy

Taglist: @eristi @sunaumi @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @iluvreinah @iamboredowo @integers @waytootiredforthisss @1arminsimp @hannas16 @chosowhore @tojicvmslut @ofalcaodacolinablue @thesharkcollector @mochipip @hotvillianapologist @ziklope @saeline @morinuu @b3llair3 @24hrnanami

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

After you left his apartment, Choso’s mind blared with the possibility of you being kidnapped- only to find solace in the small red dot blinking on his phone. Cautious eyes watching as he expected it to move- but no. It stayed still at a restaurant right outside of campus. Choso wanted to desperately leave behind those incessant urges to follow you- to make sure you were safe. 

Knowing that his day of reckoning would come. Choso knew that if he kept following you- the day would come when you’d see him. And he wanted to trust you now that things were starting to advance. 

There was nothing he wanted more than to trust you, to trust that you could take care of yourself- 

But everytime he’d try to ignore the blaring ‘warning’ signs in his mind. He’d remember every time he watched you walk home without caution, every horror story he read of people getting kidnapped and trafficked- and on the occasions where Choso couldn't shake off the invading thoughts, your voice would haunt his mind.

Overwhelming his brain as he tried to focus on what you were saying- your whispering voice making his brain pound in his skull as he watched that blinking dot.

Choso had to call you- if he couldn't run out of his apartment and find you- the least he could do was call you. Feeling like one of your clingy ‘friends’ as the phone rang, his pointer finger picking at the side of his thumb as he closed his eyes. All but praying for you to answer, opening his eyes as he heard the receiver being picked up, 

“I was just thinking about you-” he spoke, hearing your angelic laugh ring through his ears. ‘I left like 20 minutes ago.’ you teased, “I know-” he mumbled “What're you doing?” he continued, not in the mood to dance around what he wanted to hear, ‘uh- I'm at..lunch with a friend.’ you hesitated. –

‘What're you doing, Choso?’ you asked, confused as to where this was going. Choso let out a half laugh from his chest. “M’sitting in the dark thinking about you.” he professed, pressing his hand to his forehead and hearing you laugh at the serious tone he took. ‘Sounds healthy.’ you joked back with a playful tone, closing his eyes and thinking. Your tone was kind- speaking sweetly as you normally did. But. You hesitated.

The same way you hesitate whenever you refer to him as your friend. 

“M’sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he sniffled, “Tell your friend I say hi.” hearing your smile when you replied a quick ‘Okay.’ at his request. 

⋆ ⁺  .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .  ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺  .⋆

The conversation of the date was a rough one. Sitting in his apartment as you played chess. The timing was horrible- sure. The econd week of February left an unavoidable holiday sitting in front of you. “We can wait...till after if you want.” he offered a solution as he moved a pawn. 

“It's not so much the day for me.” you admitted, scanning the wooden chest pieces on your side of the checkerboard. “If you want- we can wait till after.” rephrasing his words as you watched his eyebrows furrow, “S’the same for me.” mentally chanting ‘pleasepleasepleaseplease’ as you pondered. 

And with those words- the date was set for Valentines day. Which made Choso believe there really was a god from how well this turned out. And you're thinking of moving out from that house full of idiots- and into the small apartment complex as his neighbor.

For the first time in Choso’s life he felt like life dealt him a good hand.

When it came to actually thinking about what to do- he didn't want to ask you. Knowing you were indecisive on what you were eating for lunch that day- so he didn't want to plague you with planning a date he owed you. Checking his bank account and barely seeing enough for a stack of pancakes in the town diner. 

Choso contemplated it. He thought about it over and over again, weighing the pros and cons in his mind before going into his closet and reaching into a pair of boots that were 3 sizes too small for him. Finding the thinning wad of cash he was looking for. The so-called ‘rainy day fund’ thinned every time he ran out of money for the month.

But this was worth it, you, were worth it. So he pulled the rubber band from the roll of cash, slowly counting the bills in his hands to be sure he didn't miss count. 

⋆ ⁺  .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .  ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺  .⋆

The next time you saw Choso you asked him what his plan was- “Just be ready by 7.” he smiled to himself, already picturing you on that day. 

Furrowing your eyebrows before speaking, “Well-” you scoffed “what are we doing?”

“It's a surprise.” he grinned, looking down at the stupid game you called ‘Candy Land’ 

You sighed dramatically, “Choso, I hate surprises.” as you stared at the little pieces of plastic on the colorful board. “Atleast tell me what to wear.” you insisted, seeing his lips flash a pearly smile to you. 

“Wear whatever you want- I’m sure you’ll look great.” he scoffed, holding the little piece of plastic between his fingers, making it hop as he counted the squares. 

“Well if you're taking me to a nice restaurant and I'm wearing a t-shirt nd jeans- not gonna be very fun. Or if you're taking me to a horse race-” Choso laughed at your assumptions, “And I open the door in a dress and heels? Then what?” you threw the possibilities at him as he smiled at your nervousness. 

“It's a first date- I wanna make a good impression.” You mused, earning a half laugh from his chest. “C’mon-” you batted your eyelashes at him, trying to convince him to tell you what he was planning.

Nodding his head at your coercion that was working better than you thought, “You're terrible.” he whispered, making your pouting grin turn into a toothy smile. “Wear something nice-” he avoided your eyes, moving the character on the squares again as you listened carefully, “Bring a coat- weather app says it's gonna be cold.” He instructed.

“Do I eat beforehand?” you grinned, seeing his jaw clench at your question, “Hmm- No.” you smiled at how a few pleads convinced him to tell you. 

“How nice should I dress then?” pressing the issue with a winning smile on your face as you moved your plastic character, pleased at how easily he was to convince. “Atleast tell me that.” Choso looked at you and pondered the question, before nodding his head ‘no’. Knowing he's already said too much. 

You pouted playfully at his denial, “Just a hint- just oneee.” seeing his eyes look over your face, “I’ll even settle for one word.” he thought of a word to use, staring at you as he skimmed through words in his mind. 

“Wear something- striking.” he squinted as he settled on the word.

With raised eyebrows you started, “Striking huh?” in a teasing tone the choice of word he used, “Must be some first date to wear something striking.” your borderline bullying caused Choso to regret his choice of telling you anything. 

⋆ ⁺  .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .  ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺  .⋆

On the 13th of february, just one day before your date- Choso facetimed his baby brother Yuuji, knowing out of all 9, he was probably the best one to call about this delicate topic. 

“What about this?” he holding a black knit sweater to his chest while looking at the screen, Yuuji let out a snicker- ‘If you like it-’ his tone was snide- almost mockingly as Choso tossed the knit onto his bed, staring at the pile of clothing that he had gone through. 

Showing him a band t-shirt from one of his drawers and hearing Yuuji let out a small laugh before he tossed the t-shirt on his already messy bed. “You're no help.” 

‘M’not here to helppp-’ Yuuji droned on, “That's precisely why I called you, Yuuji.” Choso retorted in a stern tone, not enjoying the game his brother was trying to play, slipping on a black dress shirt and doing up the tiny buttons.

‘Didn't you wear that to your graduation?’ he heard from the phone with a half laugh forming in his brother's words. “Can you tell?” straightening his back and seeing the fabric flex against his chest and shoulders, ‘Looks a lil tight buddy.’ Yuuji held back a laugh, being able to see the buttons strain and form small openings down his chest.

With an exasperated sigh he looked back to the mess on his bed, “I don't know what to wear.”

‘The dark navy button down you wore to parent teacher conferences and black slacks.’ Yuuji spat quickly, ‘Hey when am I gonna meet this person?’ Smiling as he changed the topic, “When you stop being so nosy.” Choso muttered, looting through his closet and finding the button up Yuuji was talking about. 

Unbuttoning the taut buttons and slipping off the small shirt. Tossing it onto the pile of discarded options before slipping on the better fitting dress shirt, doing up the small buttons and looking in the mirror, ‘I'm not nosy-’ Yuuji laughed, ‘Excuse me for trying to find out who’s involved in my big brothers life-’ enunciating the words. Attempting to make Choso feel bad for scolding him. 

“If you ever come out here- I'll introduce them to you.” he looked at the top two buttons that were undone, trying to decide whether or not to do them.

‘I'm on the next flight out.’ Yuuji quipped, making Choso scoff.

 “No Yuuji. Go to school.” Choso demanded, knowing he was skipping more than a handful of classes. ‘One day I’ll fly out there and you won't be able to say no to me till I’m standin’ at your door.’ Yuuji threatened, Choso offered only a sarcastic ‘haha’ in response.

‘How you got a date before I got a girlfriend is still insane to me.’  he pressed, “Why’s that Yuuji?” rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt as he looked in the mirror. 

Yuuji laughed- knowing just what to do to annoy his older brother, ‘Cause you're so… weird.’ Yuuji struggled to say the words through a bully-like smile, “For your information- brother of the year,” Choso snapped playfully, which surprised Yuuji since Choso was never the type to banter- not because he didn't want to. But his quips would always come out in stutters, never being able to come up with smart replies fast enough. 

Choso smiled as he recalled your slurred words,“They like that I'm ‘strange’.” Yuuji chirped from the phone, ‘They tell you that?’ with a sarcastic tone. 

Looking at Yuuji with a cocky smile, “They did.” earning for his baby brother to raise his eyebrows in feigned shock, ‘The world is so backwards.’ he scoffed before asking more questions about you. 

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Choso wanted to make tonight special, he wanted to make this the last first date you ever went on. 

So as he looked at himself in the mirror, putting on his many rings and muttering words of encouragement to himself, hands shaking as he rolled up the sleeves of his dark navy blue dress shirt. Trying not to nitpick any detail that he didn't like about the reflection staring back at him- whispering that even if he was ‘strange and off putting’ you still liked him. 

Side eyeing the clear bowl shaped vase that held three white lilies, Choso felt nerves eating away at him as his eyes flashed down to his phone that lit up with a message from you. 

‘lmk when ur outside :)’ your message read. If only you knew Choso’s stomach was in knots. A specific kind of anxiety he had never felt before, it almost felt like how your stomach churned while in line for a scary rollercoaster for the first time. 

He quickly typed, ‘im omw now’ with trembling thumbs.

So as he put on the torn up carhartt jacket he relied on whenever it was cold, he straightened his back as he held the clear vase in his hand- Choso hesitated to turn the doorknob of his apartment. Thinking on if this was a good idea- a million doubts racing in his mind. 

But he only needed one thought to pull him from his doubts. All he needed was to remember you to open the door. 

The walk across the lively campus full of people carrying bouquets of red roses and overcompensating stuffed animals made him think that maybe the three lilies were not enough- Till the realization that he was actually taking you out on Valentine's day hit, which only made him even more nervous, the pondering thoughts of ‘am I making a fool of myself?’ making him overheat in the heavy jacket. Choso must've taken it off and put it back on 2 or 3 times before he reached your neighborhood. 

Standing on your rundown porch, thinking about ringing the doorbell. Those doubts daring to creep back into his mind, but his hesitant finger pressed the button anyway. Holding the bowl in both hands as he heard muffled shouts through the heavy wood door. He watched the brass handle turn before the door cracked open- his eyes being granted the honor of seeing you. 

‘Breathtaking’ was the word his mind formulated once he felt air fill his lungs again. 

Choso swore that every single time he looked at you, it felt like the first time. But this time- this, took the cake. This would be the mental image he’d remember every time he thought of you. The nerves and unease he felt in his chest melted away when he saw the warmth of your smile.

His eyes blinked quickly- almost in disbelief as he looked at you, so love drunk it hurt his chest a little. 

And you, bent to the side and fiddling with the tiny buckle of your heel. To Choso it felt like you came straight out of his teenage dreams as you looked at him.

Smiling as you uttered the word that was stuck in his throat, with a hurried smile you spoke, “Heyy-” before placing your foot back onto the ground as you stepped back with a quiet gasp, looking at the bowl in his hands. “Come in!” you urged sweetly, seeing his eyes scan your frame, darting to your living room that was full of your gawking roommates and their friends. ‘An anti-valentines day movie night’ you called it.

“Thought I told you to tell me you were outside-” you grinned, standing at the entryway of the house. ‘God, you are haunting.’ You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to reply. Unknowing your roommates were ignoring the movie on the living room tv. Furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at the round vase in his hands.

“T-these are for you.” He muttered, his heart racing at an abominable speed by seeing you grin kindly before your smile fell.

It turned into a grimace, “I have something for you too-” looking back up at the stairs you practically fell down when the doorbell rang. Turning back around to face him. Taking the bowl from his extended hands with a prolonged touch, “They're lovely. Thank you.” you smiled, “Stay right here- I'll be right back.” You hushed, turning around and dashing up the stairs. 

Choso stood at the doorway, almost mournful knowing the sight of you that greeted him would only exist in his memory now. Fiddling with his rings as he felt the people's eyes burn through him. Unintelligible whispers from the prying gazes. Gulping as he heard your bedroom door slam shut, urging footsteps on the ground as you hurried down the stairs. Both hands held behind your back as you hid his present. 

A silly smile on your lips as you looked at him, the thin heel of your shoes clacking on the tile as you stood before him, reaching your arm around as you a box with a small bow on top. Raising his eyebrows and looking at the box holding a pair of white glass plates inside. “Plates?” he smiled defeated at the present as you tried to suppress a small laugh. 

Your shoulders moved in a silent laugh as you watched his eyes flash back up to you, “Yes. Plates.” seeing him exhale through his nose, amused at what a coincidence it was that you bought him them.

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, already being able to picture using them.

Choso held the box in one hand, looking at you with adoring eyes, you cleared your throat, “Striking enough?” you sneered proudfully. He practically choked on air at your question. 

He took a second to look at you, trying to find the correct thing to say, “You look beautiful.” he breathed softly, words that came straight from his heart. Mentally he was shouting any word he thought of when he looked at you. Words that are not to be said on a ‘first date’, confessions of yearning love and descriptive words of how he felt about you. 

‘Captivating.’ Choso thought as he admired your features that were accentuated by the warm lighting, almost casting a glow on your skin.

You felt the warmth in your cheeks trail to the tip of your nose at the compliment. ‘Thank y-’ you mouthed silently, being interrupted by a loud over exaggerated cough coming from the living room. 

Squinting your eyes as you turned around to face the source, “When did you say you'd be home?” one of your roommates spouted from the couch.

“I didn't.” You spoke with a raised tone laced with irritation, scoffing before walking into the living room. Focused on your coat that was draped on the edge of the couch.

Their eyes looked up at you as though you owed them something, “Where's he taking you?” desperate to keep you home.

You raised your eyebrows before you spoke, “No idea.”, reaching your hands into the pockets of your coat to be sure you had what you needed. 

Picking it up from the couch before turning around and speed walking back to Choso, looking at him with an urgent look on your face. “Let's go.” you whispered as you reached for the doorknob, “It's not safe to go to an undisclosed location with a stranger-!” your roommate shouted as you stepped through the doorway. Sighing as you pulled the door behind you. 

“Sorry about that.” you breathed, inhaling the cold air as you scanned the cloudy overcast with squinted eyes and creased eyebrows.

Choso inhaled sharply before he spoke, “Was that-”

“Yes, that was my den mother.” with a scoff, Choso parted his lips in a silent wince as you slipped your coat onto your exposed shoulders. Reaching a hand down and raising your ankle halfway to tweak with the strap of your heel again.

“Lead the way.” you smiled as Choso took a step forward onto the rickety stairs. 

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“Can you tell me where you're taking me now?” You sounded almost defeated as you walked side by side on the pavement. Choso made sure that he was on the open side of the sidewalk, walking between you and the potential risk.

Quiet streets derived from people made the walk peaceful, the sunless sky causing everything to look pale blue- almost as though you stepped through a blue tinted filter.

The weather was fresh- cold enough for a coat but not freezing the way it was a few days ago. A small breeze would have made you regret your choice in what you wore- your calves and ankles exposed to the frigid air.

Looking over at him as he held the boxed plates, with a smug grin on his lips, “We have to go pick something up first.” you hummed at Choso’s denial as his rundown oxford-esque shoes stomped on the ground.

Seeing an opportunity to wear down that smugness, you looked at him with an unashamed smile. “You look beautiful too, Choso.” circling back to his compliment that was interrupted by your roommate. He looked over to you- not shocked but surprised at your choice of words, despite the gloomy weather- you looked warm in his eyes. As though the sun was shining and it was the middle of summer.

He sighed as he felt your shoulder brush against his, “I don't think I’ve ever been called that.” he admitted honestly with a flustered smile. 

You laughed, “I can call you something else-” with an enthusiastic grin, looking up into the sky as you thought of the words to use, “How about- scenic. Or uh, captivating-” watching the blush on his cheeks trail onto his exposed ear.

Choso’s teeth stuttered as he heard you- trying to silence the sudden compliment, “My name is fine.” He insisted with a nervous laugh, trying his best to ignore your gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, “Are you sure? I can keep going-”

“Ju-” he breathed, “Just Choso is fine.” he implored, his heart racing at an unimaginable speed.

You were pleased with his stutter, “Okay. ‘Just Choso’, where are you taking me?” grazing the back of your palm against his as you walked, his eyes on the ground watching the lines on the pavement come and go.

Choso sighed, “I already told you- We. Are going. To pick. Something up.” He paused between the words as though that was an answer, flinching when you bumped your knuckles into his as you strolled beside him.

“Don't take that tone with me, mister.” you teased playfully, holding your knuckles against his as you saw him perk a smile. 

“Sorry-” he grinned as he looked over at you sweetly, “We’re gonna go pick something up.” he corrected himself, smiling at the sugared words, not moving his hand from yours- if anything pressing it closer. 

With a sigh you took the initiative and interlocked your fingers with his, your cool hand icing his warm palm, “If you're gonna kidnap me- let me know. Promise I won't fight back or anything.” you joked, making Choso shiver at your accusation. 

With a grimace he hesitated the words he was about to say, “That is a terrible and equally horrifying thing to say,” he spoke your name in a reprimanding tone.

“I mean in the way that life sucks right now, and you're a pretty cool person. And you're nice, and tolerate me.” squinting your eyes at the sudden frost-like breeze puff against your bare shins.

Your circling hum on the side of his pointer finger made this conversation suddenly very difficult for him to focus on. “Just don't put me in a glass cage. That's all I ask.” You continued the unsettling topic as you squeezed his hand. 

Choso laughed at the reference, “You see,” being able to conjure the words in his mind. “I had reason to worry about you getting kidnapped.” he murmured, mentally damning you for putting that thought into his head again. 

“That's different though.” you hummed, tilting your head towards him. “Of course if it was a stranger I’d fight tooth and nail-” a playful grin on your lips, watching his eyebrows slowly pull upwards. “But, if it was you?” you continued, feeling his palm subtly start to clam against yours.  

Choso looked over at you- waiting for you to finish what you were saying. The troubled expression on his face made you smile at how easy it was to fluster him. 

Shaking away the words in your mind, the sky dimming as you clutched onto his hand, you let out a ‘tsk’ at the thought, “Now that would be something quite forward to say.” you grinned playfully.

‘Your smile hides your mischievousness a little too well- I think you're just being cruel at this point.’ he thought as he looked at your profile. A proud smile adorning your lips. 

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“A parking garage?” you asked, twitching your ankle as you watched Choso input a security code into the metal receiver.

Choso sucked his teeth with a smile, “Did you expect us to walk for the entire night?” looking down to your shoe that was clearly bothering you. 

“You have a car?” you asked as you watched the metal gate creak open. 

He winced, “Technically no-” hand in hand as he led you through the barrier of the two story garage. Walking up the sloped concrete as you looked at the dusty cars. 

“I didn't even know this place existed.” You muttered, eyeing the gray walls illuminated by old yellow lights. Swinging your connected hands softly as Choso laid eyes upon the black car cover he hoped was waiting for him. 

“Let's hope it still runs.” he joked as you let go of his hand. 

“Hold these for me won't you?” he whispered, handing you the cardboard box as you tapped your heeled foot on the ground, causing Choso to look down at your ankle once more.

Placing his hands on the front end of the cover, yanking it off as you laid eyes on the two seater maroon colored classic. Almost perfectly polished as you raised your eyebrows in shock, his hands balling up the black car cover and placing it on the hood haphazardly.

He inhaled almost painfully, “It was my father’s-” as he inserted the key into the driver's side and turned it, unlocking the doors before walking to the passenger side and opening the door with a hand held out to you.

Taking the boxed plates from your hands and placing them on the roof of the car, holding your hand as you eased into the vehicle.

Connected matte black seats meeting your eyes as you eased into the seat. Silent as he nervously tried explaining why he had the car, “H-he left it behind- and I didn’t wanna leave it to be sold.” He smiled, looking down at you as he held the frame of the door. 

“So you brought it with you?” You hummed, fiddling with your hands on your lap and looking at the interior.

“I stole it- yes.” he admitted without shame, leaning on the frame of the opened door.

Pulling off his jacket as your hands reached out to take it from him, a small ‘Thank you’ fell from his lips as you held it in your lap. His lips parted in a grin, looking at your expression as you pinched your eyebrows together. Reaching your hand down to the bothersome buckle that squeezed your ankle a little too tightly. 

Your fingers struggled to fix the issue as he watched you. Flashing your eyes up at him with an awkward giggle before you spoke, “When you rang the doorbell I accidentally pulled the-” You sighed, trying to pull the black strap from the bothersome buckle, “-the strap too tight.”

Choso smiled before mouthing an understanding ‘oh’ 

“May I?” he asked, frustration starting to seep from you and into him by just watching your aimless attempts. You eyed him, lowering himself to his knee, the other propped up as you turned your body to face him. 

Suddenly all too aware of the veins on the tops of his hands, the light arm hair on his outer forearms that were exposed from his rolled up sleeves. 

His calloused hand held open awaiting you to lift your dangling foot to his palm. Without a word, you lifted your ankle. Choso delicately placed his hand onto the back of your calf, your cold skin warming in his palm as he guided the back of the heel to rest atop his bent knee. Trailing his fingertips mindlessly on your skin as he gently unbuckled the silver rivet of the shoe. 

Feeling the instant relief as he slid the buckle into a neighboring notch. A warm blush forming on your cheeks as you watch his painted hands trail gentle touches on your skin.

“There?” he mumbled, looking up at you as his thumb settled on the protruding bone of your ankle. Only offering a blushed ‘Mhm’ from your dry throat as he laced the rest of the tiny strap beneath the metal. Your hand was clutched on the edge of the seat- if your grip tightened any more you’d scratch the pristine leather.

Choso gently placed his palm back onto your calf, easing your leg back down gently before he stood up again. “Now for the moment of truth.” he winced, taking a step back and leaving you with your feet on the ground.

You inhaled sharply as his hand rested on the door again, waiting for you to sit correctly. You turned your body back to face the windshield, he closed the door for you- reaching his hand on the roof of the car for the plates before walking to the drivers side.

With how easy it was to fluster him or make him nervous, you were unsure why out of the two of you- you were the one who was on the verge of hyperventilating from the innocent act of kindness. In your mind an obstacle presented itself; how you were expected to keep your composure for the rest of the evening. 

Your hand dared to tremble as you placed his heavy jacket on the center of the benched seat. Some kind of desperate attempt at a wall to keep you from acting on your self-indulgent thoughts. 

Hearing a small thud as he placed the plates on the roof again. The driver's door opened smoothly, Choso eased into the seat as he placed his hand on the wheel with the keys in hand, leaving his door open with one foot on the ground.

Choso cleared his throat as he turned the ignition, raising his eyebrows in hopes the car would turn on. A wave of relief washed over him when he heard the loud roar come from the muffler. Quiet music playing from the staticky radio breaking the silence.

He stepped out of the car once more, walking to the hood to grab the car cover he carelessly folded. Your eyes followed him as he slid the pair of plates from the roof and walked to the back of the car, your shoulders tense while trying to breathe. 

Flinching when you heard the trunk pound shut, clearing your throat when you saw him walk back to the opened door. 

He settled into the driver's seat once more, mindlessly picking up your attempt at a wall and placing his jacket onto the ledge of the rearview window, leaving nothing but air to keep you separate from him. 

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The drive was silent, the quiet radio music easing the tension in the air only you felt. Hands in your lap as you fiddled with your thumbs, Choso was unaware of your tense shoulders till he stopped at a red light. 

Looking over at you- your head locked forward and sitting very, very far away. The look on your face though, furrowed eyebrows and unblinking eyes, lips pressed tightly together as though you were in deep thought- that's what made him realize something was wrong. 

Replaying the last 10 minutes- not recalling a single snide comment or any attempts at flirting since he started driving.

He murmured your name- trying to pull you out of the thoughts that were whirling in your mind at that moment. Blinking your eyes and turning your head slightly, looking at Choso’s face that was illuminated by the red light. “Something wrong?”

You nodded your head ‘no’ intertwining your hands harshly together. Choso looked down to your latched hands, then back up to you with a perked brow- He didn't need to speak, you knew what he was asking with the look on his face. 

You inhaled, trying to find something clever to say- “M’trying to keep my hands to myself.” you murmured, looking out of the window, gathering he was driving into the neighboring city as your knees pointed to the door along with your head.

‘...hands to yourself..?’ Choso mentally repeated your words, not knowing why you had to try to, when you were never shy about it before.

Air caught in your throat at the realization you said that louder than you were expecting, “In a- a non creepy way.” you reiterated, scrunching your eyes together at the stutter in your words. 

Mentally you were cursing the stupid old traffic light that refused to turn green, even with the lack of cars around- it still beamed red. “Did I do something?” he asked, worried he offended you in some way. 

You sighed, “Yes-”, refusing to look at him, “Yes, you did something.” you muttered as you looked into the glass, staring at him through the reflection. 

“I’m sorry- I didn't mean to-” he started apologizing unknowing what he did- but it still felt like he had to. 

You let out a laugh that rang through his ears in the sound of a hymn, “You don't even know what you did.” corners of your lips twitching upwards, turning your knees over to him as he looked forward at the now green light- accelerating slowly as you scanned his side profile. 

“Must've been something worth an apology if you- of all people are keeping your hands to yourself.” he joked slyly. Only he meant to think those words- not actually say them to you.

You squinted your eyes at his banter, “Oh haha-” you grinned sarcastically, planting your hand onto the seat, “I'll make sure to keep ‘em to myself from now on if you feel that way.” You played, feeling your confidence soak back into your words. 

Choso turned his head slightly over to you, low eyes knowing you wouldn't be able to keep that declaration, dropping his hand from the bottom of the wheel as the other held onto the side of it, placing it on the black leather to tempt you. Suddenly the distance you set between you too was too evident- too far, his eyes were forward- watching the road. 

You gulped, scanning the top of his veiny hand, slowly you shifted closer to him.

Now close enough that he could sense you, “Choso?” you whispered, earning for a small hum to leave his throat, a childish smile on your lips “Can I hold your hand?” you spoke in a whisper- Choso furrowed his eyebrows at the question.

A gentle grin on his lips, “You don't need to ask me.” he whispered back, looking forward as he heard alarms and bells ring in his head from excitement. 

So as you scooched closer to Choso, he held his hand out for you. His heart couldn't help but beat at an alarming pace, so close your thigh was pressed against his. Your knees pointed in his direction as he felt his palm threaten to sweat. 

You slumped the tiniest bit into the matte seat, looking up at him as you gently took his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers with his as your other hand caged the back of his palm. 

Both of your hands overwhelmed his tender one, smiling as you leaned the side of your head onto his bicep. Resting your joined hands on the seam where his thigh ended and yours began.

“I've always liked your hands.” you mumbled, caressing your thumbs on his skin as he drove- he was grateful the sky was darkening. Cause he was so sure the blush he was sporting on his cheeks was starting to roam down his chest.

Choso’s breathing hitched- catching in his throat, “My h-hands?” feeling his heart pound in his chest. And for the foot that wasn't on the gas to start bouncing nervously. 

You giggled, “Yeah, your hands.” you hummed, unaware of the state you were pushing him to. “They're so pretty.” you complimented him with a tone only heard in his frantic dreams.

And as you scanned his jeweled hand engulfed by your own- the veins that trailed up his forearm beneath his pale skin proudly, you smiled as you pressed your thumb down onto a blood filled ridge on the top of his hand. Stopping the blood flow from the prominent vein. 

His mind was whirring in his skull- had you said anything else he would've had to pull over to catch his breath. 

But you didn't, no you only traced mindless doodles on his skin softly. ‘This has to be some kind of attempt on my life.’ his brain managed as the scent of your perfume infiltrated his nose.

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Though he was eternally grateful to be so- (some would say too close) to you, he felt his lungs able to breathe with a set pace once he found a parking spot in front of the building he was looking for. Streets full of couples as the moon started arising. Choso exhaled expectantly, switching the ignition off and feeling your grasp on his hand loosen.

“We’re here.” he practically choked out. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked onto the street, watching the people walking past the lit up glass doors. 

“What's here?” you grinned, straightening your back and looking at Choso, you were so very close to his face. The light on the roof of the car made it very obvious that he was blushing.

“A uh-” he inhaled the air between you, “A museum.” his shoulders were tense, looking from your eyes to the curve of your nose- darting back and forth from the cupid's bow of your lips back up to your eyes. You smiled hearing his hesitant tone- relishing the sight of pure nerves flooding in his pupils from how close you were. 

With an amused smile you snorted softly, “Ouu you want to kiss me sooo bad- I can see it-” you teased, earning for Choso to look away from you in embarrassment. 

And as you pulled your hands from his, he opened his door, mumbling small curses, racing to the passenger side- reminding himself that he needs to be polite and well-mannered.  

As he pulled your door open he held a hand out to you, giving you a brace to step out from the old car. 

The sight of your hand in his as you stepped from the car elegantly made one thing click in his mind. Choso felt in his heart that he would be more than happy- elated even, to do this with you every weekend till you were both old and wrinkly. 

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Hand in hand as you walked past the white walls. Stopping at any piece of art that caught your attention. 

Your eyebrows pulled tight as you looked at a piece painted black with glimmers of red. Choso’s eyes were on your profile as you examined the art, “What do you see?” he mumbled, looking back to the large canvas. Unable to understand how you could see meaning in a few colors. 

You sighed, tilting your head and staring at the streaks “It seems sad.” you whispered as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Like the person who painted this was distressed.” 

Choso didn't see what you saw- he saw a lazy attempt at modern art- “You can see it in the brush strokes-” you leaned over to him as you pointed to the seemingly violent brush strokes. He tried to see what you saw, “In the way they decided to use a little bit of red.” You continued, looking over to his lost expression.

When you walked into the room of sculptures you stared at an old wooden chair placed on a small platform with a harsh spotlight on it, “Performer.” you read the words on the silver plate at the bottom, “What do you see Choso?” you repeated his question as he stared at the chair.

He squinted his eyes before speaking, “I think it's a chair-”, feeling your elbow shove him gently. He sighed, “Well, the chair is old, and the spotlight is on it almost in a mocking way.” Choso expressed his depiction of the piece. “And the title signifies that the chair is a piece to be gawked at.” he muttered as you smiled at his intune thoughts.

He huffed, almost feeling like he said too much. “You?” he broke your silence as he looked back at you.

“I think it's just a chair.” you mocked with a perked smile. 

On the other end of the room there was a wired sculpture, if you looked in the right angle you'd be able to see the projected image within the silver wires.

You were tilting your head trying to make out the image, “I think it's a face?” you whispered as Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Or two?” you squinted your eyes as you finally saw the image with a gratified exhale. 

Choso huffed- frustrated from how tedious this was. “How are you seeing anything?” he asked frustrated as his neck started to strain from how long he was tilting it. 

You dropped his hand- taking a step behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders, “Here.” you hummed, moving him to where you previously stood. “Lean down a little-” you whispered, you weren't able to see it- but his eyes were wide and his cheeks were tingling from your guidance. 

And as he lowered himself, you placed your hands onto the side of his head- angling it softly to this side as he allowed you to. You stood behind him- close enough for him to be able to feel your breath wisp on his nape. “Can you see it?” you whispered- Choso felt goosebumps form on his arms at your soft tone. 

You slid your hands from the side of his head- seeing him stay in place as he looked at the sculpture. “Can you?” you whispered as he raised himself back to stand up straight. 

He looked at you with a horrified look on his face, “Yeah I can.” he muttered before you took his hand in yours again. 

And when you found the room he specifically chose this museum for- he lit up with a smile.

“Art history-” you read the plaque on the wall.

Choso led you into the dimly lit room, “Finally some real art.” he muttered before turning the corner. Standing before the grand in size portraits- he looked at them in silence. Only you didn't find the same fascination in the old paintings as he did- you found the excitement that gleamed in his eyes more interesting than the dusty art works.

With every piece he knew, he'd tell you the tragedy behind them, star crossed lovers and small comments of the trageties- “Why are you looking at me like that?” he paused his previous sentence, looking at you worried that he was talking too much. 

You offered a timid smile, circling your thumb on his skin lovingly. Reaching a pinkie up to his temple and brushing away a loose strand from his temple, “I can't look at you now?” you murmured playfully, his eyes glimmered with shock at the sudden contact against his face. 

Choso diverted his eyes from your gaze, looking down to his shoes before mumbling, “You can't look at me like- that.” he felt his heart pound in his chest recalling the expression on your face with closed eyes. 

You giggled at his words, “Why not?” you pressed, being able to feel his hand tighten its grip on yours. 

He sighed, looking back up to your seemingly intoxicated face. Choso parted his lips, daring to say the first words that came to his mind. You raised your eyebrows and gripped his hand to urge him to give you a reason. “Cause I don't know what it means.” he retorted quietly.

You scoffed, an amused smile on your lips as you nodded your head. Not knowing how he could be so insightful in some ways and completely blind when it came to this. 

Your eyes scanned his features, “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it?” you quipped, seeing his eyes pool with confusion at your question. 

“I like you so much, Cho.” you whispered, seeing his eyebrows furrow harshly at the shortened version of his name. “I stare at you because I like you.” You assured, “I laugh at everything you say because I like you.”, watching his eyes blink down in timidness. In his mind, actually processing your words took a lot of effort. 

“Can I be honest?” you whispered, seeing his lips mouth an ‘okay.’ to your question. “I don’t think I've ever liked someone in the way I like you.” Choso exhaled at your words- mumbling a ‘stop’ as you smiled.

You exhaled, “I'm being serious. You're just-” you started, only for Choso to raise your hand and place it flat onto his chest. His eyes trembled as he looked at you with a stern but pained expression. You raised your eyebrows at how fast his heart pounded in his chest, explaining why he asked you to stop without words. 

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, pulling his hand that was wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand flat on his chest as you led his hand towards your exposed cleavage in attempts to show him how fast your own heart was beating.

Only for his eyes to widen and pull his hand from your grasp in shock- all but clutching his imaginary pearls as he hissed your name. Mortified to even think of touching you there. 

A small laugh left your throat at how he exclaimed your name. You were kind enough to not attempt to do that again- fearing his heart might go into cardiac arrest from being skin to skin. Instead you pulled your hand from his chest, guiding his opposite one onto your wrist and pressing his index and middle finger onto the pulse in your wrist. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he felt your racing pulse against his two fingers, “You make me just as nervous.” you whispered softly, smiling as he parted his lips. 

Choso softened his gaze, “You do a great job at hiding it.” he whispered back, recalling every moment his heart palpitated in his chest- wondering if all those times your heart was racing too. 

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“I think this is the first official date I've ever been on-”  you smiled, now standing outside. Thinking how stupid it was that the exit was on the other end of the building.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “First, first date you mean?” he clarified your statement assumingly.

You scoffed with a smile, “No, the only date I've ever been on.” seeing his expression fall in surprisement. 

Choso nodded his head as though that proclamation didn't make his heart burst in his chest, “Besides the times where we'd hang out after class- but I think this one is the first official one.” you grinned, pulling his hand with you as you turned to start walking back to the car. 

‘The times we’d hang out..?’ he thought, recalling the afternoons you'd spend with him. 

He inhaled quickly, “Those were dates?” he urged with a horrified look on his face, scanning at your profile. You looked at him as you stepped slowly.

Raising your eyebrows almost amused, “Well when two people like each other- and admit it to each other,” You taunted playfully, turning the corner of the sidewalk, “If both are consenting parties-” you continued your mocking tone as Choso listened to your words, to be sure he wouldn't miss hearing what you were saying.

“They start dating.” you teased, looking at him with a smile full of satisfaction.

In his mind, he replayed every moment from when he admitted he liked you till now- reevaluating them at the new information. With warm cheeks that were grazed by the cold air, “Are we..” he started, his palm becoming clammy against yours at the words he dared to spout. “Dating?” He asked, looking at you in a new light at that word.

No longer were you a person he liked- or a school friend. He was a person you were dating.

A soft chuckle left your throat at the dramatized words, “Don't tell me you just wanted to be a situationship?” you asked with feigned offense, furrowing your eyebrows as he listened to your words.

His face fell, trying to process the word you just said, “What is a situationship?” he asked almost scornfully at the unknown word as his grasp in your hand tightened. A sweet laugh left your throat at his question, not even being too sure of what that word meant yourself.

“Cho- are we dating or not?” you asked- turning the question around on him. His face went pink, both at the confrontation and the nickname- looking at you as though you hung the stars in the sky. You raised your eyebrows waiting for his reply. 

Choso tried to think- he tried using all 4 fried brain cells in his mind to formulate a proper sentence, but all his trembling lips could muster was one word;

“Yes.”

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The walk back to the car was silent- You were pleased with how much he blushed, how you practically forced him to confirm that your goal was achieved. 

Choso, on the other hand, had a mortified look on his face. The fear of taking the first step was long gone since the first 3 steps were already taken unbeknownst to him. In his mind he started seeing every possibility, every negative thing that could wait for him 10 miles down the road. Choso knew he should've been elated- but he couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest as he thought of the future.

Staring at him lovingly, “Where to now?” you broke the silence as he opened the car door for you, holding your hand with trembling fingers as you eased into the vehicle.  

Choso hurried to the other side of the car, taking a deep breath before getting into it. Thinking how everything is different now- he drove this car as your friend and now he was driving it as a person you were dating.

You scooched back to the spot you previously sat in, “I hope you're hungry-” he started, his cheeks tingling as he felt your hand interlock with his again, “God– I am starving.” You interrupted, looking over to him with an enticing grin.

Choso smiled to himself, “I have a fridge full of groceries waiting for us.” he tried ignoring your tracing thumbs as he put the car in drive.

You reached a hand over and pushed a few stray strands of hair that blocked his profile from you. “You gonna cook for me?” You hummed sweetly, seeing the blush on his cheeks deepen. 

A small ‘Mhm’ left his lips as he pulled out of the street parking, you looked at him with adoring eyes, intoxicated on how close you were to him. “Those plates were definitely a good idea huh?” you asked smugly.

He sighed with a smile, “Yes. They were a phenomenal idea.” he fed into your boastful tone.

You looked at him, admiring that he cared enough to agree with you,“You’re so-” you hesitated as you tried to find the word, “So,” Choso was smiling as he awaited your words. You gritted your teeth- feeling cuteness aggression, “It's like I made you in a computer.” You smiled, hearing a hearty laugh from his chest.

The entire ride back to the campus- you didn't let go of his hand. The cringey love songs played on the radio quietly, with any song you recognized you’d tell him a memory from your upbringing. Grazing the tips of your fingers along his larger ones. 

Choso made sure to listen to every single word you'd speak into the air- “M’sorry I know I'm talking a lot-” you sighed, noticing he wasn’t replying to your words.

Hee scoffed, “Don't apologize- I like listening to you talk.” flashing his eyes over to you as you nodded your head in disbelief at how smoothe he could be at times.

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You didn't check your phone the entire time. So you were happily relishing in the peace you felt being in the presence of him. 

Walking past the entryway of his apartment, reaching into your coat pocket and taking it off as Choso reached for it in your hand, hanging it along with his on the coat rack. 

You checked the stupid piece of aluminum, widening your eyes at the countless messages from your overbearing roommate, and checking the time. 9:05 pm as you heard Choso set down the boxed plates onto the kitchen counter in front of you.

You sighed as you pulled out a barstool from the wall, furiously typing as Choso gently peeled off the tape from the box.

Looking across the kitchen counter at you as you settled on the barstool with furrowed eyebrows. Scanning your bugged expression, “Everything okay?” he pulled you from your thoughts. 

You sighed as you shut off the phone, placing it onto the counter faced down as you looked at him- completely defeated. “I’m moving out.” you claimed with a deadpan tone.

Choso looked at you from the cabinet, “What now?” he smiled as he reached for a pan. 

“I have like- 50 texts and 20 missed calls from my-” you were interrupted, Choso finished your sentence, ‘roommate’, watching as you huffed a sweet smile at how he knew what you were ranting about. “Regardless, I'm moving- even if I live on the street for a few days. I can't stay at that house anymore.” You sighed, watching Choso turn on two knobs on the stove. 

Looking at him with defeated eyes, “You won't live on the street.” he assured, turning around and opening the fridge. 

You rested your elbow on the counter, placing your chin in your hand as you watched him set various small containers of already prepared herbs onto the counter. “At the end of the day people really are disappointing aren't they?” you asked with a sigh, watching as he pulled out two pre-marinated chicken breasts from the fridge. 

Choso decided to ignore your previous statement- not wanting to sullen the mood even more, “Are they like this with your other roommates?” he asked with a smile, drizzling oil into the pan. Going to lower the heat on the small steel pot on the back burner before moving to stand in front of you. 

You watched as he slowly pulled his jewelry from his fingers, “No- if anything they enable their behavior.” eyeing the silver metal on the counter, your proclamation earning a sigh from Choso.

He noticed your eyes following his hands, furrowing his eyebrows at your gawking. “You need better roommates.” he declared, turning to the sink and washing his hands as you reached for the abandoned metal he left on the counter.  

As you rolled the warm metal in your hand you sighed, “I need to move out is what I need-” watching as he dried his hands. You smirked to yourself, “If I was your neighbor would you cook for me everyday?” You asked- half joking as he looked up from the searing pan.

Choso smiled at your question, picking up one of the raw chickens, “If you were my neighbor I’d cook for you anytime you asked.” he flashed his eyes up at you before placing the white meat into the pan, a loud sizzle coming from the action.

You rested your elbows onto the counter with a hearty giggle, “You say that now- But when m’knocking at your door 2-3 times a day- you can't complain.” you warned, watching as he let out a half laugh.

He picked up metal tongs from the utensil holder, “If you knock on my door 2-3 times a day- I won't have any reason to complain,” he spoke your name in reassurance as he flipped the grilling chicken on the other side. 

You laughed to yourself, not being able to sense any nervousness or hesitation in his words anymore, almost as though he gained more confidence in the past half hour. 

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As he plated the cooked chicken, you watched with a grumbling stomach. Almost drooling as he scooped a decent portion of mashed potatoes onto the brand new white plate, “God- that looks so good.” You bit your lip, reaching your hands to the plate. 

“Wait-” he held onto the edgeas he reached for a pre-cut lemon- squeezing it gently as the citrus glazed the browned chicken.

With a warm smile he spoke, “There- now you can eat it.” looking down to the beautifully plated meal, you sighed. Grabbing onto the edge of the plate and pulling it towards you.

You looked back to him, “I can wait for you-” you muttered, hoping he'd say no. 

He exhaled, smiling as he watched your eyes full of hunger flicker from him back down to your serving. “It's okay- you eat.” He assured, watching the smile return on your lips as you picked up the metal fork placed on the side of the plate. 

Choso watched you expectantly, the fork scraping against the plate as you sliced into the meat-piercing the chunk you cut off and lifting it to your lips, looking at him as you placed the fork into your mouth. The warmth from the grilled chicken landing on your tongue as you pulled the fork from your lips- leaving nothing on it with a sigh from your nose.

Chewing a few times as you closed your eyes, savoring the flavor between every bite. 

You swallowed, opening your eyes and nodding your head, “You're insane.” you mumbled, looking at his expression unchanged- not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Please finish cooking so I can eat more-” you joked, placing the fork onto your plate, he scoffed at the words that seemed like a compliment. 

And as you asked, he plated his own serving, not with a quarter as much love nor care- but it was infront him as he leaned down to take a bite, assuring you it was fine for you to continue eating. 

He hummed as he placed the fork down onto his plate, “I didn't even offer you anything to drink-” he scoffed to himself reaching to the cupboard above his head and pulling down two glass cups. 

You opened your mouth- hesitating to speak as you watched him turn to the fridge, “Not to sound alcohol-dependent or anything-” you grinned as he peeked back to you. “But do you…?” you insinuated with half lidded eyes. 

Choso sighed, “I don't. I have water and orange juice.” he mumbled, knowing exactly what you were trying to do- but he knew in his bones it wouldn't have been a good idea to let you drink right now. 

You gave a half laugh, “Water is fine.” you smiled as he reached into the fridge. Choosing to keep the bottle of ‘Titos’ he had a secret from you.

Pulling out a glass bottle from the fridge he had bought yesterday. Pouring water into your glass as you chewed on your affection infused meal. 

You placed down your fork, swallowing the previous bite before reaching for the cold glass. “You'd really be okay with me moving next door?” watching his eyes trail down to his plate.

Choso inhaled, “If it makes you happier- and not feel so stressed, I would let you move in here-” he spoke mindlessly, halting his chewing as he realized what he said. He inhaled sharply- feeling like your silence was deafening. He was about to apologize-

Only you laughed, “All my clothes would not fit in your closet.” you inhaled as you placed a bite of the mashed potatoes into your mouth. He huffed through his nose at your comment, pleased that you took it as a joke rather than how he truly meant it. 

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Somewhere between him finishing half of his meal and your 5th compliment on how fucking good the food tasted- a battle ship board was put up between you. 

Furrowed eyebrows staring back at you as he called out a number on the board. You hissed as you looked at your side of the game, “Nope.” you grinned as he gruffed at his attempts.

You were examining your grid, trying to use all the divination you could muster before he spoke up- “Did I tell you I'm thinking of getting a job?” he smiled, watching your furrowed eyebrows ease at the question. 

You gasped, “No! Don't do that-” holding a peg in your hand as his expression churned to confusion. “I won't be able to see you as often.” you pouted, looking down at your board. The words seemingly came unfiltered from your heart, and the sight of you pouting at the idea of not being able to see him as much anymore was more than enough to push that idiocy to the side.

And though you meant it as a half joke, it still pained you to know that now- of all times. When things were finally advancing, he'd pull away. 

“If you need money-” your lungs threatened to laugh at the words forming on your lips. “I'd be more than happy to pay for your time.” You spewed as though you were a sleazy 80 year old man speaking to a lady of the night. 

Choso furrowed his eyebrows and parted his lips, “Like an escort??” he huffed a laugh, you looked up from your board with an entertained smile. “No- no, not like an escort-” you defended. 

Calling out a number on the board as he nodded his head. “Like a paid…” you thought of the word, “Though I can't call you a friend anymore can I?” You spoke to yourself as he scanned his side of the plastic game, smiling at the thought that you'd no longer hesitate when referring to him. 

He inhaled as he took a bite from the coldening food, looking over to your plate and seeing you had finished. “I thought you were broke?” he spoke thoughtlessly, not being able to feel the hesitance before he spoke now. 

Your smile fell, he squinted his eyes as you shook off the sudden heavy feeling- “You're that expensive?” you chirped, looking at him bewildered at the thought he might've taken your words seriously. 

Choso scoffed, “No, you don't have to pay me to hang out with you.” he reiterated, watching as you fiddled with the peg in your hand. Recalling your query of if he'd mind if you were his neighbor. “But I remember you said you were broke..?” he looked at you with detective eyes as you called out a square on the grid. Sucking his teeth when you actually hit one of his boats. 

You hummed as you avoided eye contact, “I uhh-” you lowered your shoulders and raised a brow, “I figured it out.” flashing a warm smile at him. Only you meant it in an assuring way- Choso saw past it. He saw the way your lips fell after you said that, the way your eyes dimmed from recalling what you were hiding. 

You cleared your throat, “Meaning, I can afford your company now.” you circled back to the silly topic with a smile, Choso sneered through his nose at your insistence. He opened his mouth to speak- but you spoke before he could. 

“What kind of job?” you looked at him, changing the topic before he called out a number on the grid. 

He sucked his teeth, “I was thinking at the library- Quiet, don't have to do a whole lot.” He muttered as he studied the target grid. “Or I could apply to be a TA.”squinting before calling out a number. 

You tightened your lips, mouthing a curse as you marked a small boat with a red peg. “Why now of all times?” you asked as you waited for him to call out another number.

Choso parted his lips- almost saying the words that popped into his mind before closing his mouth. “No- say what you were thinking.” you caught onto the little habit he had developed since he was a child.

He smiled at your attentiveness, “I was thinking, now that I’m..” looking at you with a blushing smile, you raised your eyebrows, all but saying ‘go on.’

“Now that I am seeing someone.” he murmured, looking down at the board embarrassed and trying to ignore your gaze, you laughed at his avoidant eyes. 

You inhaled, nodding your head ‘no’ disapprovingly. “You don't need to get a job just because we're dating, Cho.” you assured, standing from the barstool and taking a step around the end of the kitchen counter, standing before his figure as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Look at all the times we've hung out- not once did we need money or to go out to have fun.” placing a hand on his bicep and squeezing gently to affirm your words even more. 

Choso inhaled, “Would it be enough?” he muttered as he looked down to his shoes. You scoffed, trailing your hand down to his forearm, then to his hand. 

“I would be more than fulfilled if all we did was stay here and play board games day after day.” you whispered, holding your hand gently in his as he felt his throat close up-

He looked back to you with creased eyebrows, the tip of his nose daring to turn pink from an expression that looked close to tears. “You want a hug?” you asked sweetly, hearing a sniffle from his nose before pulling you to him.

Your hands wrapped around his waist as his arms rested atop your shoulders, holding you tightly as your bodies came together in a perfect mold. Choso held one hand on the back of your neck softly, the other pressed taut between your shoulder blades as you smiled into his chest, circling your hands soothingly on his spine, he sniffled before speaking.

“Be honest. Did you come over here to look at where my boats were?” you breathed out- defeated that he saw through your plot. Pulling away from him as his hands hesisted to let you go from the hug that felt like home. 

You looked at him with a cheeky smile, “I did.” you nodded, looking over to his side of the board and seeing you were close to winning by a few more pegs. You looked back to him, parting your lips expectantly as he took a step back.

‘Be well-mannered’ Choso thought as he watched you brush off the slight disappointment. 

He cleared his throat, “I think it's time to take you home.” he smiled, watching your eyes blink down to your shoes that had to be uncomfortable by now. 

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The trip to your house was short now that there was a car, and yet- you still held onto him as though it was the last time you'd have the chance to. 

Choso parked on the opposite side of the street, turning off the car as your eyes looked at the wooden door across the street almost resentfully. “Ready?” he asked, knowing you’d refuse to face the music were he not there. 

With a begrudged exhale, you nodded your head. 

Choso held the car door open for you, holding your hand as you stepped onto the street. You almost resented how polite he was- knowing if it were anyone else they would have invited you to stay the night- regardless if it was a first date. 

But not him, Choso didn't dare to even think of asking that of you.

And as you stood before him on your unlit porch, you smiled, “Thank you.” with a whisper, looking into his eyes as he scanned the prominent aspects of your face.

“Don't thank me.” he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he watched the sparkle in your eye round your pupil. 

With a modist smile, you looked at him impatiently. “I think this is where you kiss me goodnight.” you leaned forward mere millimeters as Choso refused to step back this time. 

He gulped at your words, “It wouldn't be polite.” he dissuaded lowly as you grinned innocently. 

Close enough that you were breathing the same air- “It would be more impolite not to, Choso.” you compelled, watching his gaze dart from your lips back to your eyes. 

He raised his hands to the side of your face- thumbs caressing your temples softly, parting your lips as his fingers kept a light touch beneath your ears. You fluttered your eyes closed as you heard ringing in your mind, cheeks warm and tingling as you awaited.

Only you awaited something to press against your lips- But Choso had other plans.

His parted lips pressed onto the center of your forehead, pulling away with your head in his hands. It wasn't disappointment- more like a challenge that you felt. “Goodnight,” he spoke your name in an intoxicating tone, softly taking his hands from your face and taking a step back from you.

You couldn't help but smile at his chivalry, “You're cruel.” you whispered, earning a quiet half-laugh from his chest. 

“It’s not respectful to kiss you on a first date.” He scolded playfully, watching you roll your eyes lightheartedly. 

You stared at him as you leaned your back onto the door, placing your hand on the brass knob before sucking your teeth. “When is a respectful time then?” you murmured, watching his hands slide into his coat pockets.

“Third. Maybe even fourth date.” he smiled, knowing that would gain a feigned groan of dissatisfaction from you. Though it was earlier than you'd like-  10:43 to be exact, you were still grateful he was courteous enough to bring you back home as though you had a curfew. 

“Goodnight Cho.” you smiled, turning the brass knob as he kept his eyes on you.

Were the porch light on you’d be able to see the beaming blush on his cheeks, “Goodnight.” he replied sweetly, watching as you stepped into your house, taking one last look at him before waving a small goodbye. 

Choso was able to contain the excitement in his throat till he turned away from your porch, his lungs threatening to start hyperventilating as he tried to confirm with himself if that actually just happened. He stood at the car door- looking up at the sky and thanking whatever celestial being was out there for the lucky hand he was dealt. 

There was one thought in his mind at that moment. He was now sure that you made him feel more alive and far less lost than he felt without you. And he relished in that thought as he drove back to his apartment, no longer fearing the future- if anything he was thrilled to know that for the first time, love finally loved him back.

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and if I told you I over indulged sooo much in this chapter??? and if i said........ I almost hemorrhaged writing this?!!! this was too cute, (just wait till I write abt the first time they have sex) And if you're curious- yes the rewarding cigarette was delicious.

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

bbc Ghosts tattooshop capvers au

okay completely based on @captain-rickbond amazing modern Caphrey drawings:

My brain ran with an Ghosts tattoo shop au and though it's Caphrey bffs of course my brain made it Capvers (no one saw that coming I'm sure😉):

-Robin: tattoo artist style old school has one big lightning tattoo over his whole body nothing else. Does also do stick n poke.

-Humphrey: tattoo artist traditional and neo traditional does classic paintings on the side that he sells ,covered in tattoos himself (based on cap rickbonds drawings)

-Kitty tattoo artist. Style: fineline, floral work, dot work , watercolour and cartoon style

-Mary tattoo artist style: black work specialised in tattoos that look like old book illustrations and sketch style, loves doing witchy tattoos

-Allison tattoo artist photorealism style I. Colour and black and grey

-Cap: store manager

-Thomas: that one customer who gets turned away frequently because he wants face, neck or hand tattoos as his first tattoo

-Julian customer three tattoos one heart with Margot one with Rachel and some pun/innuendo very close if not directly on his gentleman's excuse me. Robin did all of his tattoos

-Fanny: friend of cap does like Humphreys paintings and comes by when she wants to chat, gossip or ask Humphrey to do a portrait of one of her pets (on canvas obviously)

-Pat: customer. friends with all of them no tattoos over shirt lines because he works in a bank. His tattoos are mainly humourous about stuff he loves in cartoon style kitty is his main artist.

-Obi the shop apprentice focuses on graphic style (tattoos that look like graphic design) and / or trash polka

The story:

Cap has few tattoos from different artists. Fineline flowers from kitty and a date that holds great importance to him done by Humphrey, a morsecode tattoo on his chest etc. his tattoos are not visible to others normally. They are small and personal.

Robin has a certificate in how to tattoo scars and made all of his artists learn as well

Havers just moved there and wants to symbolise a new start in life with something beautiful coming out of the scars of the past (upper body/arm scars not the face ones)

He walks in for a consultation and is a bit nervous because first it has to be determined what can be done, if the scars can be integrated and if the goal is to fade them optically or use them to enhance the picture.

It's a busy day and stuff has gone wrong so there's a waiting period and cap gives him tea and they get talking and find out they're both ex military and he's relaxed and smiling by the time robin comes to collect him

During the consultation Havers let's it shine through that he's not exactly sure what he wants style wise so robin who's very old school in wanting to challenge his artists calls them one by one to look at him and asks them to design something that symbolises his wish of a new start

He even calls cap in to ask something about if they still have a specific needle type. Cap sees Havers shirtless and gets extremely flustered. And everyone's like "??" Because normally cap runs the shop like a well oiled machinery but now he can't remember if they have that needle size

Havers returns the week after to look at the designs and the main themes are phoenixes or flowers (a lot of dandelions and lotuses)And cap can see (because he keeps looking🤭) that Havers is a bit overwhelmed with choosing so he brings them all tea and starts chatting with him and it quickly turns out what he really loves from which design so cap suggests they do a collab piece on Havers. And everyone whose in the design gets really excited and of course it means that Havers has to come back for another consultation. By that point the others have caught on that cap is talking to and mentioning that one customer a bit often.

Havers returns the next week and for some reason he got the appointment wrong and is almost an hour early (oh dear) and so that very handsome store manager who is bored on this very slow day takes it upon himself to drink tea with him and chat telling him that he loves the meaning behind his tattoo and that he's in good hands and it'll look awesome on him and he shows him his own tats which makes kitty run to the others and whisper because normally no one gets to see caps tats.

The design is wonderful and Havers loves it but because of size and difficult level aka sitting through the extra spicy pain it's gonna be done in numerous small sessions. And every time cap and him find time to talk to each other or shooting glances at each other.

His colleagues try to get Cap to ask Havers out before it's too late but cap is like that's unprofessional and the guy is here to get a tattoo not be hit on by staff.

With the sessions and the healing process it takes months before the tat is finished and it's very clear to everyone else around them that the attraction between the two is very much mutual

And on the last appointment cap wants to ask him out before he possibly never sees him again but everything goes wrong because Thomas demands that this new poem of his has to go on his neck and Robin argues with him and Julian Fawcett turns up drunk for his appointment and Alison has morning sickness and so cap who waited anxiously for Havers to come pay and say bye had to do the payment real quick and wants to say bye and ask him but then Julian smashes a vase from the counter because he got in on the argument between Thomas and Robin and Havers at one point slips out sad that he didn't got to talk to Cap one last time.

Cap is feeling a bit down over the next weeks and everyone is trying to cheer him up.

A few weeks later Havers is suddenly there again because he lost some lines during healing and Cap wasn't even aware that there was an appointment but Humphrey is like oops forgot to tell you.

The actual appointment is over suspiciously fast. (Aka Humphrey met Havers somewhere accidentally and used to meddle)

And then it's time to say goodbye and Cap can't get the words out and Anthony looks very anxious and he's almost at the door but cap calls out to him, Havers whipping around and cap is like I eh oh well I meant to say...we'll be having a flash day on the third if you're interested.

And something about calling him back just gives Anthony the kick he needed and he informs him that he doesn't think he's the type just yet to get random tats because he's more after meaning. New beginning specifically at the moment which also means new people in his life and there's one person he really likes and wants to get to know even better and then he asks Cap out.

Over the next two years the teasing sentence "cap stop flirting with your boyfriend we're about to open" can be heard almost every day in the shop at which point Havers leans over the counter to collect his daily goodbye kiss before leaving for work.

Havers design btw I'm thinking a phoenix made out of flowers like a flower bomb gone off all over his flank and pieces on his chest and upper arm like flames out of flowers everywhere around the actual bird where there is scarring.

During those two years Havers gets a tattoo of the date of his first appointment underneath the phoenix.

And after that the only clearly visible tattoo Cap has that is done as a collab and on two people who don't have many tattoos (the absolute exception Robin makes which drives Thomas insane) are the wedding ring tattoos for Cap and Havers.

[beanarie]

21 hours

i just kept rolling around the moment from my last fic when tommy said "i turn into the unabomber when i get scared, just ask hen and howie" and i wondered, what could possibly be scarier than thinking he might lose buck right after getting him back. (tw: panic attacks)

~

Hen's feelings on Tommy Kinard are... malleable. He was trash when they met, and for a solid few months after that. They remained on the same crew, struggling and bleeding and getting each other out of scrapes. That built a measure of trust. After Gerrard and the worst of his minions vanished, he changed. Became almost sweet. He and Chimney, who had always been okay, hit it off like a house on, you know. Hen liked this new version of her teammate, who seemed to be finding his feet after losing some seriously bad influences. She enjoyed their group hangouts. Maybe a year after his transfer to Air Ops, her friend Casey shared that Tommy was gay and out to his new unit, which, good for him.

She never forgot the asshole who helped make her feel like she would never belong, but he got smaller over time, easily overtaken by whoever Tommy felt like showing her.

The call today was going fine until it all went to hell, another unwelcome similarity to the night Buck got struck by lightning. The victims were alert and on their feet, ambulating on their own power right ahead of him, when he saw the heavy mahogany shelving unit lose its moorings and shoved the family out of the way just in time. That of course put him right in its path.

For a long, terrible minute while he was pinned she and Chim thought they didn't have a pulse. But it was there. They found it eventually. And he made it to the hospital without crashing.

Having heard a little about Buck's efforts to rekindle their relationship (along with his feeble arguments that they were strictly platonic), Hen isn't shocked when Tommy shows up at the waiting room. But she wasn't expecting the asshole.

Chimney eyes her, asking if she's seeing what he is. They recognize this man. The linebacker set of the shoulders, the distancing lift to his chin. Bobby asks him if he wants coffee, and he simply wrinkles his nose.

He's pissed. Maybe he blames them for letting Buck get hurt.

"Enough," Eddie says, flinging himself out of the chair. "We're taking a walk."

"Don't speak for me," Tommy spits out.

"Now," he growls.

Surprisingly, Tommy goes, but Hen isn't sure that's a good thing. Eddie has a history of making problems worse with his fists. Chim is on the phone with Maddie, figuring out the logistics of two scared parents who can't be in two places at the same time. He's no help. Hen considers asking Bobby if they're gonna let Buck's sort of ex and his best friend lay each other out while he's in emergency surgery. But he's never really up for mediating nonsense when one of them is badly hurt, especially not when it's Buck.

The surgeon comes out and speaks for a moment. Hen now has a compelling reason to intervene. She turns a corner and soon finds them. Eddie leaning in, glaring, while Tommy cuts him off and stalks away a few paces.

"You're not even trying," Eddie says tightly.

"Shut up." Tommy whirls back the way he came, breathing hard.

"Three things. Chim's baby could do it and he can't even sit up by himself."

"One day, Eddie. One. Are you fucking kidding me?"

Hen blinks. Tommy sounds like he's holding back tears.

"Tommy, man, come on. If you pass out and end up in the bed right next to Buck, he'll 100 percent blame me. Get it together."

The dots connect themselves. The pacing. The irregular breathing. Eddie prompting him to list three things. Tommy is having a panic attack.

"Guys?" Hen says. Tommy's head snaps up. Their eyes meet and if she wasn't already sure, this would do it. That isn't anger. That's pure terror. "Surgery went well. They're wheeling Buck into recovery. They said someone can go be with him when they bring him around."

"Tommy's going," Eddie announces. "If he can remember how to breathe."

Tommy has a hand on his own chest. "Dickhead."

"Hen, can you walk him over?" Eddie raises one shaking hand. "I need to sit for a minute."

Tommy's eyes widen. "Shit, Eddie, I didn't even ask." Tommy comes close to invading Eddie's space, stopping only when Eddie holds him off.

Eddie gives him a half-smile. "I'm fine, Tom. The rest of us are all fine. It's just an adrenaline dump. I'm gonna call my kid and let him bitch about organic chemistry and the school musical until my heart stops pounding." He squeezes Tommy's shoulder and gives him a shove. "Go on."

All the way down the hall, Tommy mutters to himself, trying to do what Eddie asked and regulate his breathing, but it doesn't seem to be working.

"What happened yesterday?" Hen asks curiously, stuck on his earlier comment.

He's so surprised his lungs stutter to a complete stop. He looks down at her, blinking hard, and he shakes himself. "We agreed to try again," he says.

"Damn," she blurts out, and almost apologizes before he lets out a humorless little laugh.

"I know!"

She doesn't tell him how it felt to watch her son coding not two weeks after they got her daughter back. She's not sure how to say this is just their lives, that the only reason they get through it is because they have each other. He's spent enough time observing them.

They've reached the recovery room. Tommy cracks his neck and straightens his spine. "Hen?" he asks, tentatively, pausing with one hand on the double doors. "Do you need to go home? Karen-"

"Isn't expecting anything but updates from me until morning," Hen says. This isn't a regular day.

He nods. "Can you stick around? Some of these doctors suck at communicating and- and I want to make sure I'm ready for whatever he's gonna need."

So maybe he has figured it out. "No problem, Tommy. I'll be right here."

"Thank you." He takes a deep breath and pushes the doors open. Through the split second sliver before they swing shut again, she catches a glimpse of Buck on the gurney, his face mottled with purple from the books that flew off the top shelf (an encyclopedia, like they used to keep in the '90s). He looks terrible. When he wakes up for real, he's gonna feel even worse. But she's pretty sure he'll be just fine.

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 7 Coffee & Donuts

Rating: Mature for chapter (Series is Explicit, this blog is 18+ MDNI)

Summary: It's a rainy day and Frankie is bummed about everything going on with his ex-wife Vanessa and the impending change to the custody agreement. You convince Frankie to go with you for some coffee and treats. Reader has a car named Blue.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still reading the series! Life things, grief things, a lot happened since the last update, but I am going to see this series through with Sweets and Frankie. (I've actually written the last chapter believe it or not, but I just need to uh, get them there!) Thank you always for being the best beta @bloviating-vy <3

Word Count: 1.5k (it's mostly fluff y'all)

Chapter Tags/Warnings: TF AU, no y/n, fictional description of custody arrangements, aggressive driving, brief mention of wedding/anniversaries/honeymoon, Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, alternating POV

Series Masterlist

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It seems like everyone has the same idea as you, crowding into the latest ‘it’ coffee shop, a warm beacon on this grey, drizzly day. Scrunched together at a two-top you could see the noise and crowd grating Frankie’s already low mood, despite the six shots of espresso over ice cradled in his hand. He picks at the pain au chocolate you’re sharing.

“You gonna pick out all the chocolate and just leave the pastry for me?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, slouching back into his chair and taking a large gulp of his coffee. It is a damn miracle he is not vibrating out of his seat into another dimensional plane. Six fucking shots of espresso.

“Hey,” you say softly, placing your hands over his. “It’s going to work out. Might be hell for a bit, but we’ll get through it. I'm here for you, okay?”

Frankie perks up at the we. He hadn’t said it in so many words but you could tell the custody change demands from Vanessa were stressing him out on so many fronts. It was frustrating enough strategizing with his lawyer, not to mention his worry about being enough for Gabi, doing a good job as a dad, and the thought of juggling full-time custody along with his job. But also how it would impact your relationship. Despite the reassurances you'd given him that you considered him and Gabi a packaged deal, you knew he still harbored doubts, plagued by insecurity.

When someone jostles you hard enough to nearly spill your coffee, you abruptly stand up. The coffee and pastries are doing shit all to improve his mood, but you still have one trick up your sleeve.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you declare, chucking the half-mangled pastry into the trash. The poor lamination of the dough didn’t make this one worth saving. Frankie slams the rest of his espresso and shuffles towards the door behind you.

Even though you’re driving, Frankie hustles over to open the car door for you before sliding in on the passenger side. You know how defeated he’s feeling when he hadn’t insisted on driving this morning. Frankie always wants to drive.

Frankie quirks an eyebrow at you when leaving the shopping center, turning away from the direction of his house. You just shoot him a cheeky wink as you continue driving in comfortable silence. Trundling along in no particular hurry.

Eventually, you pull into the completely deserted student parking lot at the local high school. Puddles dot occasional parking spots and the air is thick with moisture. It’s no longer raining outside but the clouds hang heavy, occasionally spitting, threatening to pour again. You gently pull to a stop near one corner of the lot and grab your phone. He’s not sure what you’re looking for as you scroll through your music app and the car idles.

You finally look at him with a shy smile as you click your phone back into its holder. “You trust me, Frankie?”

“Umm, as long as you’re not about to murder me and dump my body in the ditch over there, baby,” Frankie responds looking around with hesitant but soft eyes, open to whatever you are trying to do to cheer him up.

“Awesome,” you exclaim, perking up, caffeine pumping through your veins. You flip off the A/C and traction control and hit play on your music app. Classical music starts to build on the car’s stereo system. “Hang on!”

You floor it.

Frankie is pretty sure you threw the car directly into second gear, screaming down the long side of the parking lot before executing a perfect pendulum turn around one of the light poles. Whipping the rear of the car around before accelerating towards the middle of the lot and pulling the e-brake briefly, deftly maneuvering the steering wheel before stomping on the gas. Your car dances with you in beautiful arcing donuts. Exiting the last revolution, you rev the engine, before charging towards another light pole at the far end of the parking lot. The tires squeal as you drift around the light pole and floor it again. Frankie’s gripping the oh-shit bar with his right hand as his left presses into the roof of the car. He can’t even let out a yelp as you punch the gas and the air out of his lungs.

He has enough of his wits about him to count the revolutions in the next set of donuts, an impressive 1440 degrees before power sliding around the perimeter of the parking lot for good measure. It suddenly occurred to him why you had red tape marking the 12 o'clock on your steering wheel. You finally drift the car to a stop in the middle of the lot.

You look over and grin at Frankie, looking far too much like a Benny grin, before asking him, “How ya feeling now, baby?” You reach over to take a sip of your coffee, not a drop spilled in the chaos. You eye him with such innocence as if you didn't just pull the ridiculous stunt you just did.

“Uh…” Frankie lets out a hiccuped laugh, still clutching the grab handle, slowly lowering his left hand from the roof. Adrenaline and caffeine coursing through his body, fizzing and sparking up his esophagus that escapes into a giggle?!? Perhaps six shots of espresso was a bit excessive. He feels a slow smile spread across his face, grinning like a maniac back at you, surprised, amused, touched at your antics to cheer him up.

“Better,” he punches, all air and no menace, trying to hold in more unruly giggles.

“Hmm, that's a no,” you smirk at him before pedaling the gas a few times, looking for any sign he wanted you to stop. When he continues grinning at you, you throw the car in reverse, dancing with the e-brake, clutch, and gas pedal, whipping donuts in reverse, once, twice, before throwing it into first and gunning it to drift figure eights around the light posts. The car slips and slides across the wet pavement, the smell of rubber and rain thick in the air, as you maneuver the car with absolute focus and control.

Frankie’s better prepared this time, enough to appreciate your agility and skill as you work, dance really, with your car. It is sort of like a dance, Vivaldi’s music swirling up and up, crescendoing, as you spin the car faster and faster. He lets out a whoop and you smile, alert eyes on the road, before letting one out yourself. As the song crests and falls, you powerslide the car around a light pole and cruise to a stop, allowing the car to idle, breathing heavily from wrangling all that torque and excitement.

“Better?” You glance at him again, eyes playful and sweet.

He grins wide this time, “Yeah, baby, much better. Always better with you.”

You reach out and slide your warm hand into his, squeezing lightly. “Good.” You pause for a moment before adding quietly, “Thanks for trusting me.”

“You know what would make it even better?” He smirks, dimples dancing, eyes bright again.

“What’s that?”

“Let me drive.”

You jerk your hand back from his and playfully shove him, “FRANCISCO MORALES. Blue is MY baby. Only I get spin her like this.”

Frankie knows better, but he presses you anyway with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely not, Morales. Maybe, maaaybe after we’ve celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, THEN you can drive her.” Your eyes widen in panic at the slip of the word wedding. You hadn’t talked about the M word yet.

Frankie furrows his brows in mock seriousness and he can see your panic rise, worried he may have taken it the wrong way.

“How about after the honeymoon?” he negotiates, his voice like a purr. He knows what he's doing. You release a nervous giggle that sets Frankie off, laughter bubbling up from his throat until you’re both cackling with tears until one of you snorts. It was definitely you.

“First anniversary,” you giggle back, hiccuping and wiping away happy tears.

“Deal.”

You shake on it, but instead of releasing your hand, he pulls you in closer for an espresso-laced kiss.

When he finally pulls back, cupping your chin between his thumb and index finger, your soft eyes search him before asking, “You really feel better?”

“Yeah.” He offers a warm, touched smile. He tilts your chin up to him as he presses one more chaste kiss on your lips.

“Wanna dance one more time before we go home?” You arch one eyebrow, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand on the shifter.

Home.

“Hell yeah,” Frankie grins back at you. He thinks maybe you have an inkling, and know how everything is better in his life when you’re there. He’s already home. You’re his home.

Frankie hits play on your music app. As Vivaldi resumes over the speakers you launch Blue down the parking lot, full throttle, tires screaming, a blue streak of rubber and rain.

End Note: The song Sweets puts on is Vivaldi's Winter from The Four Seasons. She hits the gas at the 0:40 mark.

Example of Pendulum Turn Handbrake Turning in Rally Driving

Taglist is open: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges @darkheartgatita

@enretrogue @titabel @copperhalfcent

@triplefrontier-anniversary @iamskyereads

[kz-i-co]

Don’t Fall In Love: Part 2

Summary: You are one of the most popular bloggers on your campus, telling enriching stories of your personal heartbreaks anonymously. But your readers are not ready to handle the newest heartbreak of finding out your best friend dating your ex.

Pairing: Lee Haechan (Donghyuk) x f!reader

Genre: college au | angst (eventual fluff x smutt)

Warnings: story may contain strong language, mentions of drugs and alcohol - sexual references - reader discretion advise.

Words: 4.6k

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist | Nct 127 Masterlist | Nct Dream Masterlist

Taglist: @lovingvoidgoatee, @lunaryoongie, @matchahyuck, @yixingtion, @mosviqu, @ohmyhuenings, @nctzennikki09​

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #51 Please understand that my short hiatus was necessary as I can firmly say....I'm going through hell. And those of you still accusing me for bullshitting fake news....then shame on you - but also honored you think my creativity is this impressive, thanks I guess. I will gladly get to your questions as my DM box is officially full - also thanks again....I guess - but please let me vent on my own because this is all too real and once again....NOT okay with it. I never seen this coming. It's bad enough I had to confront my oh so famous ex on the matter and thought I was crazy to split up his new found relationship. The jerk didn't take it well since he brought up my relationship with J - his best friend. Oops did I forget to mention that? Call me slut or hypocrite - what ever floats your boat but I as well was under a lack of information and I would take it back if I could. I have more regrets than I would like to admit and people reading who are close to me will probably connect the dots eventually and my identity will soon be blown but as of right now I'm venting and this is the only place I can comfortably do it. I will get to my session on D soon but right now I'm pissed and rather not talk about it. Thanks for being here anyway. Xoxo peace :::

"(Y/N), help me hang this." Minjeong asked letting one side of the banner dangle. It's been a few days since you've found out about Donghyuck and Minjeong and you still couldn't deal with it, but at least you played nice.

"Why are we doing this?" You sounded uninterested.

"Jimin's birthday." She sounded offended.

"I know that.....she said not to make a big deal out of it." You shrugged taping the other side.

"That's the best part." She smiled once again. "You okay? You seem down lately."

"I'm just drowning in school work, exhausted." You lied.

"You need more sleep and to stop partying."

"I've only been to two this week." You made your way to the kitchen and pulled out a can of soda.

"And stripped in front of the whole fraternity." She giggled. "And can't forget trashing your ex's."

"Must we keep talking about this? I was drunk and stupid and I said I was sorry."

"Alright." She began, following you. "Actually....can I ask you for dating advice?" She said, changing the subject.

"Trouble with catfish already?" You tried not to smile.

"It's not that....and stop calling him that." She smiled sarcastically. "How long did you date Jaemin until you guys started.....you know, sleeping together."

You didn't lie that the question alone caused your stomach to sink. "Well, first of all, he was a fuck buddy so the first date technically."

"Well then, your other ex...."

You sighed avoiding her question. "Min, you just started dating this guy and you want him to fuck you already." Your eyebrows furrowed.

You can tell she was uncomfortable. "I'm just getting impatient and I thought guys in college dived right into that stuff."

"I mean you ain't wrong. College guys are horn dogs." You giggled. "But I don't know, maybe he's a gentleman."

You chuckled to yourself because you knew that was the farthest from the truth. Donghyuck was no gentleman, at least not anymore....or maybe this was somehow an act to look innocent to get girl to fall for boy faster - what an evil genius.

"So am I wrong to worry? All we've done is kiss and hold hands. I want more." She sounded defeated and you as her best friend would feel bad and want this douche to pay but this was Donghyuck we're talking about, you didn't want happiness for him. Cruel yes but maybe he deserved it.

"Break up with him." You said nonchalantly.

"Not this again (Y/N). You act like you don't like him but you met him once, can't you try a little harder."

You heard a knock on the door ending your conversation thankfully. "I hope that's not Riri, I told her to distract Jimin, we're not done." She panicked as she opened the door.

"Speak of the devil." She squealed hugging the person on the other side and of course it had to be none other than your ex himself. "You came early to help?"

"Of course." He spoke and you couldn't help but laugh to yourself in the kitchen. His tone sounding unfamiliar.

"(Y/N) be nice." She warned as she passed you in the kitchen. "I have some balloons here that need to be filled up and I still have the punch that needs to be made and oh the snacks."

You and Donghyuck both shook your head at Minjeong's pacing as she needed everything to be perfect.

"I'll stay here with the snacks." You offered, already grabbing the bowls from the cabinets.

"Okay great. I'll blow up balloons." She grabbed the bag. "Oh shit, I left the cake in the car." She panicked and made her way to the door. "Channie, can you make the punch, you do it the best."

"A-huh." He nodded feeling overwhelmed and as soon as she left he sighed.

"Channie." You mocked as soon as he made his way over. "I love you Channie....you're so cute Channie."

"Please shut up." He grabbed the bowl, not caring he basically pushed you out of the way.

"What's wrong, no love in paradise?" You teased.

He just glared at you as you continued your fun. "I'm surprised you haven't told her yet....seems unlike you."

"Like I said, you tend to ruin relationships all on your own." You shrugged pouring the chips in the bowl.

"Yep, that was all me." He said sarcastically.

"I'm surprised you haven't slept with her yet, come on Hyukie, you're better than that.....have you lost your touch?"

"How do you even know what we've done."

"Did you forget Minjeong is my best friend? She tells me things....and she is upset."

"Upset huh?" He turned towards you with a smirk. "She really wants me that bad?.....I was waiting for her to beg.....virgin's especially can't wait long enough."

"You're sick. Maybe she's just desperate."

"You let me know when you hear next door." He remarked as Minjeong opened the door cutting off your conversation.

You crumbled the rest of the chip bag and threw it aggressively in the trash.

"Cakes fine." She smiled and sensed the awkward tension. "How's the snacks coming."

"Everything is dandy." You smiled and Donghyuck nodded and continued his punch.

You grabbed the completed bowls and made your way to the living room to place on the coffee table. You really tried not to show your disturbed emotion as you turned to grab more bowls seeing the two embraced in a sweet kiss and giggling together.

It hurt....it hurt because that was you once.

"Um....can I add liquor to this?" Donghyuck was quick to pull away, wiping off his smile as he saw you grabbing another bowl close by.

"This isn't that kind of party." Minjeong giggled.

"Not a lot, just enough to take off some edge." You knew he met you but you didn't turn around to show you were listening. You were done listening.

"Half a bottle." She said and made her way to the living room blowing up balloons.

Then you finally looked back as he gave you a rueful smile and then suddenly emptying the whole bottle causing you to softly giggle. Not a party if Donghyuck isn't spiking the punch, typical.

....

"Guys, they're gonna be here any minute." Minjeong announced as the talking started to die down.

"Isn't that your ex?" Yetak spoke next to you as Donghyuck was practically hiding in the kitchen, engaged in a conversation with Mark and Renjun. You could tell he was anxious to even be in this situation that you so happened to make worse by lying to everyone.

"Nope, they just look alike." She looked at you puzzled and then back at him. "I'll explain later but for now just pretend you don't know him okay?"

"Shhhh....she's coming." Minjeong had everyone quiet and as as the door opened....

"Surprise!" Everyone cheered as soon as Jimin and Riri walked through the door. You didn't invite a lot of people to your apartment, just some close friends and of course Minjeong allowed Donghyuck to invite some of his friends and bless your soul Jeno and Jaemin decided not to come saving you a night of disaster.

"Oh wow....thank you everyone." She smiled and leaned next to Minjeong. "I said no party."

"It's not a party....it's a gathering." She smiled cutely.

"It's a party." She smiled but you could sense the anxiety in her.

"It's not even big enough to be a party.....I only invited a few people." She remarked. "We have drinks and food....just a hang out - you only turn 23 once."

She nodded looking at you for help. "If you're really concerned Channie made some special punch if you need to relax."

"Or Mark bought some drinks, since we're all adults." He spoke up and Jimin locked eyes with him and immediately looked to you causing you to shake your head.

"Some of us." You smirked trying to get rid of any suspicion.

"Oh Jimin.....I didn't introduce you yet." Minjeong dragged him closer and he couldn't help but fake a smile as Jimin was already set up to cause disaster. "Jimin this is Haechan."

"You're the catfish?" She spoke and you combed through your hair panicked.

"Catfish?" He questioned.

"Don't take it personal Hy-Haechan.....we knew Min met you online and you know it's hard to trust anyone. Most of them lie and cheat and hide who they really are."

He glared towards you but quickly pulled off a fake laugh. "You're right....there's a bunch of crazy people on those sites, lucky Minjeong didn't meet one."

"Nope I didn't." She held his arm leaning closer.

Jimin locked eyes with you again shrewdly. "Nice to meet you."

"Do you mind if I get dressed real quick, Min?" She made a beeline through to her room. "(Y/N), Riri.....help me." She signaled and you were quick to follow.

"Can you be any more suspicious." You shouted in a hushed whisper.

"What the fuck is going on? Why is he here?"

You sighed. "That's Minjeong's new boyfriend."

"Very funny." Riri laughed.

"I'm not lying, it's been him all along -the catfish."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jimin practically yelled.

"Keep your voice down. Can you see why I've been so pissy lately."

"Oh my god, she don't know? You didn't tell her?"

"How am I suppose to tell her. She liked him before I even knew who he really was. I can't do that to her."

"But you're gonna let her do this to you?" Riri spoke up.

"It's not her fault, she never met "my ex" before." You shrugged defeated.

"So what is this? Is this his way of getting back at you." Jimin asked.

"He swears he didn't know she was our friend."

"Bullshit." She shook her head.

"Well, he seemed pretty startled when he first met me."

"And you just played it off like you didn't know him?"

"What was I suppose to do Ri....say hey ummm you know this is my ex that broke my heart into a million pieces."

"Yes."

Jimin looked more angry than you. "I don't know who I should be more pissed at...you or her or him."

"Trust me I'm pissed at myself as it is." You put your hands on your hips, taking a deep breath.

"And he's not in anyway consider breaking it off with her?"

"I tried.....he doesn't care about me anymore."

"You have to tell her." Jimin said with more sympathy.

"Let her be happy with that jerk."

"I don't mean for her, for you. This is not healthy (Y/N)....not after what he put your through - is still putting you through."

"Well, it's too late.....she's already sunk in deep."

"I don't care. She deserves to know, unless you're gonna keep lying to her."

"Besides - if she knew she was doing this to you, she would be upset." Riri spoke up after Jimin.

"Okay fine, but not yet."

"Sooner is better than later, she can't fall farther than she already has."

"I know, I'll handle it. I mean.....if she still wants to date him after then it's whatever."

"Why would you do that when you're still in love with him?"

"I'm not still in love- I'm not." You could tell they didn't believe you. "I'm fine - I promise."

"Guys. Everything alright?" Minjeong opened the door and Jimin quickly changed her shirt, avoiding suspension.

"Everythings great, I love the party."

Minjeong rolled her eyes playfully. "I know I know, I just want your birthday to be special."

"It is, thank you." She gave a genuine smile as you all looted back to the rest of the apartment.

"Drinks you say?" Jimin grabbed you and headed towards the kitchen. "Nice to see you again Hyuck- oops I mean Haechan." She smirked and you couldn't help but giggle as you both grabbed some drinks off the counter.

He gave a look of annoyance. "Hmm, what did she tell you?"

"Oh nothing.....I just think that if neither of you are gonna tell Minjeong than I will." She warned causing you both to look at each other timidly.

"Go ahead, I already told (Y/N) to tell her.......I did nothing wrong here."

"That's priceless." She laughed.

"What did she tell you about us.....I'm dying to know." He leaned on the counter.

"More than enough."

"I bet my life it wasn't the truth." He said causing you to laugh causing the attention of Minjeong from across the room.

"Let's not do this here....it's Minjeongs party after all." You said and Jimin took a sip in agreement.

"Have the punch it's stronger." Donghyuck smirked before walking away.

"Still in love huh?" She asked as she walked away as well. You took a deep breath grabbing a cup of his poisoned punch.

He definitely put more than one bottle in here. And it showed after three cups, but at least you weren't the only one.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #52 I wouldn't say I'm a messy drunk but you may be fooled once you're a witness. I tried to contain my emotions, I tried to contain my actions but when your love life is this much of a mess than wouldn't you agree I deserve it - a little medicine to forget my past and apparently my present. It hurts and booze is all I have. Relax - it doesn't mean I'm turning myself into an alcoholic but every now and then I need something to ease the pain. Let's just hope I don't say anything I regret the next day. :::

"I'm so curious yeah.....sajin sok niga!!!!" You sang along drunkenly with Minjeong. "Georeo nawa wae!"

"Psst.....how long are you going to let this go on?" Mark spoke next to Donghyuck as he watched you and Minjeong sing and Dance to the music.

"You want to turn the music off?" He took a sip of his  drink.

"I mean this girlfriend - ex girlfriend thing."

"(Y/N) is gonna tell her anyway, so I'll just wait it out."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know her."

"I need a refill." Minjeong made her way to the kitchen. "I love your punch Channie.....I can't get enough."

"Oh but you will." He pulled her away as she practically collapsed into his arms.

"But it's so good." She whined.

"You can have more tomorrow." He said sweetly as he guided her to her room.

The party was pretty much cleared out by this point. "It's getting late I guess we'll head out." Renjun spoke as he stood up.

"You guys can't go yet. We're not done singing." You slurred your words. "Oof, it's hot." You started taking off your shirt.

"She has a habit of stripping when she's drunk." Jimin laughed and Donghyuck combed his fingers through his hair in annoyance as soon as he stepped out of Minjeong's room.

"I'll put her to bed, you can go." Jimin offered as Mark and Renjun approached the door.

"Thank you for inviting us, happy birthday Jimin." Mark spoke before making an exit.

"We didn't even sing happy birth-" You puked before finishing your sentence.

"You guys go, I'll meet you back." Donghyuck said to Mark and Renjun and he grabbed you gently, guiding you to the bathroom.

He leaned over the tub, turning on the shower to warm. He started unzipping your puke filled jeans helping you out of them as you just stared at him apologetic. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe I should of listened to Minjeong and only put half a bottle." He showed a slight smile.

"I'm sorry for ruining our relationship." He was caught off guard from your statement. You always accused him first for ruining the relationship but now it was the other way around. What changed with you and when did you feel this way?

"What do you mean (Y/N)." He looked at you puzzled.

"I'm sorry I was a horrible girlfriend to make you cheat." You teared and he sighed taking a moment to comprehend your confession.

"You weren't a horrible girlfriend (Y/N)."

"I bet Minjeong is better than me." You looked up at him. "Does she make you happy?"

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay." He turned you around and unclipped your bra and guide you to the shower, closing the curtain as he faced away from you respectfully. Even though he's seen all of you before, he knew it wasn't his right anymore.

Once you were done, he handed you a towel and helped you to your room picking out some simple sweats, getting you ready for bed.

"Drink this whole glass before falling asleep." You nodded taking the water as he headed towards your door.

"Hyuck."

"Yeah?" He turned around.

"Can you stay with me?" You begged softly.

"You know I can't do that." It was his turn to look at you apologetic.

"Oh....yeah." You said quietly. "Well, thank you for taking care of me."

"Sure." He smiled softly. "Goodnight (Y/N)."

"Happy birthday to me." Jimin spoke as she got up from cleaning the puke off the floor.

"Well technically..." He pulled out his phone. "It's 1:47.....it's not your birthday anymore."

"Har har......thanks old friend." She threw the rag at him.

"Ew." He dodged.

"It's your ex's puke." She laughed. "So.....about that."

"I don't want to talk about it." He started towards the door. "She's a mess."

"Well, can you blame her?" She started making the mood more tense.

"I didn't cheat on her Jimin, I don't know what she told you but she caught something and she took it way out of proportion."

"Then why don't you explain that to her."

"I tried, she won't listen to me."

"Well, maybe she's willing to listen now." She crossed her arms.

"It's too late now.....I moved on, now it's her turn." He opened the door. "I really didn't know about Minjeong if she believes that or not but I can't lose sleep over this. I'm sorry."

"It's not just that." Jimin spoke as he took his hand off the door knob, alerting his attention back. "She's not over you, can't you see that?"

He shrugged. "What do you want me to do.....she broke up with me."

"I think the answer is pretty simple." She said softly.

"It's not my fault she didn't tell her, she's the one that lied."

"But it doesn't make it right." He sighed at her answer.

"Look, I don't owe her anything, she decided to push me out. If she chooses to tell her the truth than fine, but for now I'm going to continue on with my life and she needs to do the same."

"Alright....I get it, it's none of my business - I just care about my friends that's all. But she will know eventually and I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Have any of you considered that it's not just (Y/N) that is hurt?" He confessed before walking out the door. "Happy Birthday Jimin."

She softly smiled in return and let out a long groan as soon as she locked the door behind him.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #52 Okay so I admit....I fucked up. Pretending I didn't know my best friends new boyfriend is probably the dumbest decision I have ever made but what can I say - I panicked. I saw him and my mind went blank.....because the truth be told.....I'm not over you D - there I said it. Most of you called it anyway. Why do I even bother hiding anything. Those two damn years we have spent together was the best two damn years of my life - even if I still think it was wasted. D was the one I was so sure I wanted to marry, to eventually have kids with, to grow old with - my everything. But what changed? I know you guys are still dying to know.....but I'm just not ready. I got drunk last night and poured my heart out just to be shot down. Regrets regrets regrets - now he knows how I feel, I showed him weakness and now he's probably gloating in his victory. Probably even telling J of how much of a mess I am at this very moment. I'm in for a treat that's for sure. Well I guess that's all for now. Xoxo peace :::

-

"Can I talk to you for a second?" He arched his eyebrows in confusion as you were the one knocking on his door.

"I don't want to be rude (Y/N) but I'm leaving soon to meet up with Minjeong."

"I know, it will just be a second." Your tone was serious and he opened his door to let you in. Mark was nowhere to be seen, leaving you and Donghyuck alone for your disliking.

"So what's up?" He sat down on his wheelie chair, gently rocking back and fourth. You couldn't help but admire his comfy state - hair slightly a mess - slight dark circles forming under his eyes from his lack of sleep caused by late night video games and - sweats to top it all off. You missed that.

What were you doing? This is your ex you are thinking about. He wasn't yours anymore - stop staring at him like that. "(Y/N)? Are you still hungover?"

"Um- yes definitely hungover." He smirked at your stumble. "I just wanted you to know that, that wasn't me last night.....I was clearly drunk and I said some thing's I didn't mean and I'm sorry."

"You didn't say anything upsetting." He grew confused.

"Yeah but I still said some things I regret....I don't remember every little piece but I do know you helped me to bed and I just wanted to thank you."

"Sure but for you sake, let's not do it again." He leaned forward resting on his knees. "You made poor Jimin clean up your vomit on her birthday."

"I threw up?"

"All over the place.....even on yourself."

Your eyes grew wide trying to recall the events that happened. He cleaned you up? Does that mean he undressed you?

"I know what you're thinking." He stood up. "I had no intention of seeing you naked so get those dirty thoughts out of your head. I just helped you in the shower."

"How am I suppose to believe you when I was drunk."

His expression turned sour. "You should know me better than that.....and besides it's not like I haven't seen you before."

"But you don't have that right anymore." You snickered. "Who am I kidding, it wouldn't be the first time looking at other women when you're in a relationship."

He sighed clenching his teeth. "This is what I get for helping you?......Why don't you do everyone a favor and don't get wasted anymore because no one is going to help you."

"I didn't ask for you to help me."

"Why are you even here if you were just gonna harass me?"

"I just wanted to tell you to forget last night even happened."

"Forgotten." He held open the door and you walked out, you turned around thinking more words were going to be said but instead - a door slammed in your face.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #53 Transferring was becoming more and more clear as I live day to day. I am just making everything worse.....aren't I. Every time I open my mouth I find myself regretting what comes pouring out - drunk or sober. I don't know what to do by this point. My heart is like a balloon - slowly being deflated. :::

"What's wrong with you?" Jimin said as you burst through the door and collapsed on the couch.

"I hate everything."

"What happened now?"

"I went over to thank Hyuck for helping me last night but it turned into an argument like always."

"You went over to his dorm?" She asked.

"Yeah." You shrugged nonchalantly.

"Minjeong is on her way over there now, what if she saw you?"

"He said he was meeting her - never mind, I don't care.....I didn't see her it's fine."

"If you're gonna hold up this secret of yours, you need to be more careful because what if she thinks you two are hooking up behind her back, that would be worse than lying."

"That wouldn't happen." You shook your head.

"Why because you're gonna tell her the truth?" She forced.

"No because every time we're together we argue. No love connection what's-so-ever." She glared at you. "I'll tell her jeez, no worries I'm just waiting for the right time."

"There's never a good time, that's why you should just get it over with."

"I know." You sighed finally sitting up right, turning on the tv. "I've literally been rehearsing what I'm going to say."

"Just make it short and simple. Haechan is Donghyuck and you're having a hard time accepting them together."

"I'm not having a hard time-"

"Stop bullshitting (Y/N).....you can lie to yourself all you want but you're not fooling the rest of us."

You rolled your eyes but you knew she was right. "I'm just gonna go drown myself in alcohol."

"(Y/N), no more drinking." She laughed.

"Honestly I'm done talking about this right now." You snipped. "I just want to forget about him for one damn second."

"So....we ordering food, then."

"Yes please." You faked whined causing each other to laugh breaking the tension.

::: LoveAboveMyPinkClouds: blog post #53 Yep.....I should have most definitely kept my mouth shut, because I might have pissed him off worse than I thought. But I should have learned that if you mess with a snake, you're gonna get bit but I flinched and now the venom is traveling down to take me out for good this time. :::

"(Y/N) get dressed." Minjeong burst through the door being dramatically over excited.

"Why?" You groaned not wanting to get up.

"You and I are going on a double date." She said and Jimin sucked in her lips trying to not say anything.

"Huh?" You leaned up.

"Come on.......it will be fun. Dancing and dinner - hot sexy date."

"With who?" You were beyond puzzled.

"Okay so maybe I'm not really sure.....but Haechan says he has this friend that wants to hang out and he's single so...." She shrugged.

Donghyuck selecting a date for you? This can't be good. You pissed him off this morning and now he is in some way, taking revenge. Who could it be? Maybe he payed some desperate nerd to hook you up with. The thought just made your skin crawl. He was definitely up to no good.

"I'm sick."

"(Y/N) please...let's have fun." She pouted.

"Okay but the second I'm uncomfortable, I'm leaving." You'll be surprised if you last the first 5 minutes, to be honest.

.....

"Will you stop pacing, they will be here any minute."

"I thought this place was a lounge not a club."

"It is a lounge, I guess they are just packed tonight." She shrugged.

"I swear if he brings some creep to hit on me-"

"Look they're here." You glanced over seeing Donghyuck entered first and you already hated him for looking the way he did. He may be the type to wear sweats all day if he wanted to but when it came down to business, he knew how to dress nicely and you grew angry from just how attractive he is.

He glanced at you but by the way he eyed you up and down made your question what he was really thinking. He almost seemed speechless. You just hoped he wasn't thinking anything negative.

He did love me once?.....

You tried to shake off the thought of him, looking behind to see who he thought would distract you for the night on this oh so exciting double and you almost thought your eyes deceived you. What an asshole! You knew he was out for revenge and he couldn't sink any lower.

"Hey (Y/N)."

"Hey Jaemin."

-

>> Next Part

©property.of.kz-i-co

[bidisasterevankinard]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @giddyupbuck <3333 thank you love

Me really post seven? hahaha

I wrote this scene of exes to lovers some days ago and need opinions

prev snippet

context: Buck and Eddie dated after 3x10 till 3x15 when Eddie ended their relationship for "not to fall in love" cause it would make everything not convenient on work. But after lightning he can't deny he's in love and he wants to try again and tries to wait for Buck to feel better after lightning and when Buck in 6x15 talks about Natalia Eddie thinks it's too late and tries to date Marisol but after one date he goes to Buck and tell him he loves him

He never let Buck love him how the man did, but Buck still showed it to him.

But he hates that right now Buck is not just showing that he still may love him, he also shows Eddie he hates him, showing him he’s hurt. Showing that Eddie hurt him and still does it. And Eddie wants to make it better. 

He wants to put his medic hands on the wounds he created, invited under Buck’s skin, on his heart, and heal it. 

Thinking about best ways to put the bandages on Buck’s heart to give Eddie time to find the way to make Buck trust him with this again, to give him chance to keep it in his hands forever, Eddie feels how Buck ends the kiss, but doesn't go more than some centimeters from their faces.

Teal meets hazel for the first time tonight.

“I hate you so much right now,” opposite to his words, Buck only squeezes his waist tighter, almost till his nails can make him bleed.

(more feelings under cut if you want) 

Eddie wants to bleed. He carves all the pain and poison of the last days to go away with some dots of blood. He wants Buck to make him bleed how Eddie left him years ago with a bleeding heart.

“I thought I had stopped hoping. I thought I had finally moved on from you. Three years, Eddie, I was hoping for three years. I dated Taylor and sometimes hoped to wake up with you, not her, but all those times told myself to stop. I tried so hard all those years to move on, but I-I held on you, on pieces of you I still could have, so hard till I felt like trash, like a failure, like I wasn’t enough, but I never could stop. You always let me hold on to you, and I thought you do it for Chris, that you hold on me and let me hold on you for Chris, and you would never do it for us, for me. And when I found powers to finally feel like I moved on, like I’m ready to keep the hope about you aside, like I’m ready to think about my happiness, to put me first, you-you went and said you loved me,” Buck shakes his head from side to side, closing his mouth and clenching his jaws so tightly, “and I'm like a fool coming back after one snap of your fingers,” Buck is crying and Eddie knows he is the reason for every tear from blue eyes, knows he's the reason Buck is so hurt, but he's ready to beg for forgiveness every day, he's ready to never stop trying, he's ready to always admit when he hurt people he loves, even if he did it unintentional. 

“Don't start it if you’ll get scared and break up with me again. I will stay only if you promise to never do it again. Scream at me, cry with me, cry alone, have your time to collect your thoughts and come back to me, but-but don't break up with me, promise me. Promise me, Eds, or I will go away and never get back. Not for loving you at least. I’m tired of holding on to people who don't need it. Who doesn’t ready to work with me to keep us alive, to keep magic when we need fight for it,” Buck looks at him with tears streaming down his face but with face impression showing he is determined to go away if Eddie is not going to be on one page right now, ready to protect his heart and fight for himself. 

And Eddie loves him for finally putting himself first, even above Eddie’s feelings. “I promise, Evan. I promise I'm done running from my feelings. I'm done running from problems. But most importantly I'm done running from happiness. I'm ready to admire all the magic around us when it’s so easy and work for it and our love when we should if it's with you,” Eddie joins their foreheads. “I want to love you when I can, to never feel how I felt after lightning. Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone, and I want to love you today and tomorrow and all next days like the day before and only more, not just hope for the possible tomorrow to start. I want to start today,”

Tagging: @diazblunt @alyxmastershipper @lover-of-mine @wikiangela @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @fatedking @911onabc @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @housewifebuck @wildlife4life @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @watchyourbuck @transbuck @transboybuckley @ladydorian05 @mandzuking17 @hippolotamus @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @devirnis @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @rogerzsteven @buddierights @cowboy-buddie

[bee-barnes-author]

WIP Questionnaire

Tagged by @tabswrites

Gently tagging: @amandacanwrite @coffeewritesfiction @ellierenae @johnna-oneal-trash-writer @leahkentwriter @milkhoney531 @pheita @pb-dot @sirensatyr @theamazinggrayson @tombstuck @violeaes @vivrune and an open tag. Blank questions below the cut!

For 'THE BEAST IN THE GLASS HOUSE':

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

The outline. I was at a client's house, dog siting for a week, and I just finished reading ROSEMARY'S BABY by Ira Levin. I put down the book, and thought about the gaslighting aspect of the novel, and how scary that is. Then TBITGH appeared in my brain, whole and grown like Athena herself.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Idk about the song, but the direction would be very much like the intro from the first season of the sopranos. Probably it'd be the drive from Damon's office, to Freya's apartment, then to her work. It'd end on Damon putting sunglasses and a mask on.

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

I hate Damon. He's such a loser so I don't count him as a character LMAO. My favs will have to be Freya or JJ. My love for Freya is hard to explain without spoiling the book lol. To be vague, it's her character arc. For JJ, I love how he ends up and how he develops as a character. Again, can't say much without spoiling.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

This q kinda confuses me? Like what other shows/books would ppl like if they like my work? Well, my book is for fans of stalker horror (such as YOU by Caroline Kepnes and MISERY by Stephen King). If you're looking for the inspiration of the male love interest, check out THE VAMPIRE DIARIES tv show (seasons 1-3~, the rest are garbageeee), TWLIGHT (both the books and movies, specifically MIDNIGHT SUN), 50 SHADES OF GREY (I've only read the first book so I can't vouch for the movies, but the book is meh-to-bad imo)

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Honestly, writing this thing has been a breeze. I wrote the first draft in under four months. It just flowed out of me. It's this whole 'getting ppl to read it' thing that's the hardest.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Werewolves! Mentions of squirrels. The mc is a werewolf and he's a werewolf supremacist. Werewolves on the brain 24/7 baybeeee.

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

They run on all fours in wolf form, go around on two legs in human form and a special wolf form, drive cars, and drive snow mobiles.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

The manuscript is done. I'm just waiting on the last edits from a paid editor. Once I do those rewrites, I'll put this up for publishing. Aiming to launch mid June 2025!

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Incomplete list: soulmates/instant-love, every werewolf/shape shifter trope under the moon (couldn't help it), billionaire boyfriend, stalker 'romance'. Every 'bad boy boyfriend' trope. I loooove taking tropes and turning them on their heads.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

To publish! I'd love it to go gangbusters but my primary hope is just to have ppl read it 'XD

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

[burnwater13]

Concept art by Christian Alzmann, depicting the Dark Troopers gathering Grogu from the surface of Tython and flying him up to Moff Gideon's ship. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 6, The Tragedy. Calendar by DateWorks.

‘This is an outrage! An outrage, I tell you! At no time did I scream and cry for help, while that goofy Dark Trooper dragged me into the air on Tython. There was no need for anyone to add that drama to what was something a lot more like a comedy routine and a lot less like a kidnapping. Those Dark Troopers were programmed by a burnt out protocol droid.’

Grogu typed the entry into his diary as quickly as he could. He couldn’t believe that people really thought he was helpless. He was the guy who picked up a mudhorn! He was the guy who pushed the fire right back on that ex-Imp trooper on Nevarro. He was the guy who healed Din Djarin and Greef Karga for crying out loud. He wasn’t helpless. Not even a little bit. Dank Farrik!

He knew that the writers of The Mandalorian liked to add drama to a situation. He’d really enjoyed how the various episodes had turned out, by and large. Jon was a great writer and Grogu liked most of what he had done in that particular episode, but having the concept art showing him crying like a baby? That was just not how it had happened. 

First, he’d been about to hop off the seeing stone when the Dark Troopers showed up. But of course his dad was right there and he didn’t want those things shooting at Din Djarin. You can’t do that to a Mandalorian. He'd be honor bound to return fire and then either he or Grogu or Fennec could have gotten hurt. And really, the odds were best for Din Djarin getting hurt. 

Why? Because that beskar shell he walked around in gave you a feeling of complete invulnerability, right up to the point where a blaster bolt ricocheted and hit you behind the knee and you were hurt. It was Grogu’s personal theory that explained why Mandalorians always charged straight into a battle. The armor covered their front pretty well. It was a practical result of years of conflict. Why they hadn't learned to have the armor cover more of their bodies... that was anyone's guess. 

So instead of jumping off the stone, he just waited to see what the big dumb droids would do. He was really hoping he could play ‘frog’ with them. If you’ve never played frog, it’s a great game. Typically two or three kids are trying to grab you and you jump to a place they aren’t occupying. Just like a real frog. Grogu was very good at jumping and he thought it would be great if the four, hulking, poorly programmed droids, were compelled to all jump for him at the same time, all aiming for the same place, doing it all at the same time.  

Can you imagine it? The crash! The bang! The sound of processing units over heating as they tried to disentangle themselves. Wow. It would have been a sight to behold. Would have been if his dad hadn’t called his name and distracted him and the wretched Dark Troopers. 

Oh, yes, they tripped, they teetered, they fell. For a moment they looked like a very strange arrangement of dominoes. But one of them managed to get it’s vambrace caught on Grogu’s coverall. That was unfortunate, because at that point, whether because they’d been commanded to retreat, or because even droids could be embarrassed by their total failure at doing a simple chore, the Dark Troopers leapt into the air and Grogu went along for the ride. 

It probably had looked pretty harrowing, from a certain perspective. Dangling above the rocky outcroppings that dotted Tython, from a couple hundred meters and climbing. The wind was cold and made a horrible whistling sound. The Dark Trooper itself sounded a lot like an Imperial trash compactor, kind of sloshing and definitely clunking, as it gained altitude. 

Grogu would have been terrified if he hadn’t known something that clearly no one else on the ground knew. Jedi can float. Yup. That’s right. Jedi know how to stick the landing. It was just a truism. You couldn’t stop a Jedi just by throwing them off a building or out an airlock. The Force was with them every single, solitary, time. And this time would have been no different. 

But… the Jedi hadn’t considered what to do about having your coverall caught on a big chunk of semi-intelligent metal. Sure, if he’d been Obi-Wan Kenobi he could have shrugged an elegant shoulder and his cape would have fallen into a graceful pile on the ground and he would have been free to fight or fall or whatever he wanted. But Obi-Wan Kenobi had never been stuck wearing a coverall that had a sealed bottom. It was like wearing a sleeping bag!He couldn’t shrug an elegant or in-elegant shoulder to make that problem go away. 

Plus his dad was still on the ground and it was pretty clear from the altitude that Grogu had quickly gained with his useless personal pilot, that other Imps were now on Tython and they were attacking his dad, Fennec, Boba Fett, and the rocks and boulders all over that section of the planet until they managed to destroy the Razor Crest! 

Now that just made Grogu mad. He had left some great snacks on the ship and the Mandalorian had left all of his stuff there. All of it. Where was he going to find a change of socks on a place like Tython? It was just ridiculous. 

Of course Jon didn’t want that kind of ridiculous in the show. This was a heart warming drama with lighter elements that told the compelling story about a lone bounty hunter protecting a helpless child from a galaxy that was all too cruel. Dank Farrik. If something could be more dramatic that was good. If it was just flat out funny… well, either it was re-written for a droid, a mech, or Peli Motto. Yup, that’s right. Grogu had watched Jon do that more than once. Ask the pit droids about it. They know. 

Any way, now you know, under no conditions known to the vast array of life forms in that galaxy, far, far away, did Grogu cry and scream like a baby when the Dark Troopers grabbed him completely by mistake. Nope. Not once. Not at all. Not even when he stubbed his toes trying to kick the ridiculous droid…, okay maybe then, but not any other time. Grogu had standards, after all.

[silv3rswirls]

Sea

Note: I had a vision, unsure if I executed it well, but here were are.

Warnings: reader is in a fragile state for ambiguous reasons, no romance, comfort

The sea: something you loved as a child, but had grown distant from in your recent years. Whether it was moving to the city, taking a job that hardly left you time for yourself or trivial visits to the beach with friends you didn’t have. Or the ex that didn’t like the sand and salty air, or the loved one that passed away and in some way took your love for the sea with them.

Whatever it was, being back left you feeling part empty, not brimming with joy or excitement. Somehow still just going with the motions as you let your bags clunk against the floor, the creaky screen door left open as you inched more and more into the house. It wasn’t familiar, you were renting it for the weekend. You needed time away from everything, time to just reconnect with reality. Lately, nothing in your life felt anchored. It was drifting, messy. You hated it. 

It was gloomy out. Everything felt a shade of gray or blue as you let cabinet doors fly open and drawers bang as you searched the kitchen for anything to eat. Nothing, despite what the property manager had promised. You sigh, taking a moment to slow down and stand in the empty kitchen. You look at your hands and how they shake, and you roll your eyes. This was a bad idea.

You dump one of your bags out, watching clothes and personal items scattered across the floor of the entryway. You grab a few things; art supplies mainly, and stuff them into a canvas bag. You head out down old rickety stairs and rocky paths, the old beach house had seen better days, as had everything else in the seaside town. Not many people lived here still, its summers no longer held extravagant tourist passage in the summers. It was rickety and old, forgotten by most.

You were glad the property manager hadn’t lied about the bicycle in the shed you could use, you needed this. You bike down cracked paved roads and through gaps in forgotten fences. Grass and brush tickets your ankles and tiny purple flowers dot your vision as you start towards the beach. There’s a salty breeze in the air as the distant splash of waves gets louder. You ride up a path along the beach, heading up for the cliffs rather than the driftwood and trash-riddled sand dunes. You had forgotten this feeling of freedom, biking away from your troubles as if you were a teen again. Your hair brushing in the wind, and thighs burning as you struggle uphill and over rocks. 

You closed your eyes for a moment. Everything felt okay now.

If there had been anyone around as a witness, they’d watch you race up there. Throwing your head back now and again, as if you were running from some imaginary monster. They’d watch as you looked back again, going far too fast and getting tripped up on a stray bench. You fell hard, your leg twisting off the bike, your skin scraping the peddled dirt as you struggled to recompose yourself.

You sit there wallowing in your fall, and you start to cry. Heavy tears thick down your cheeks and catching the curve of your chin, down your neck. The fall didn’t hurt, everything else did. Why were you even here? To paint the sea you told yourself. But what a joke, you hadn’t painted in over a year. Your brushes and paint tubes had tumbled over the path, scattered as you look at them helplessly. Was coming here even a good idea? Running away from your problems? You keep your head lowered as you cry and cry and cry. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there wallowing, but the sound of someone’s bag dropping on the ground not far from you brought you back to reality. You look over, sniffling as the young man stares at you for a moment. “You fell?” He asks, “I think…” his words trail, his arm buried in his bag, “here.”

He hands you a small bag filled with bandages and other first-aid supplies. You take it wearily, and when you look up after tending to your scraped knee you notice he’s collected the fall art supplies. Holding it tight in his arms, asking permission to go into your bag to put them away.

“I thought I was the only one here” he comments, handing you your things and helping you up. You feel heavy, not wanting to get up.

“Me too” you sigh, rubbing your red eyes and trying to shake off the tears.

He helps you pick up your bike, though you insist you don’t need help. You’re both heading up to the cliffs, so you go together. Walking side by side and pushing your bikes along. You don’t talk much, the both of you are just going on your ways. When you get there you sit down on the edge of overgrown grass and sandy cliffs. The sun is hidden behind clouds, the waters gray with a sparkle as waves lap below you. His name is Namjoon, you learn. Though you don’t get a chance to share yours.

“Are you here to paint it?” Namjoon asks, looking out as he stands a bit behind you. 

You shrug, “Maybe.”

“Isn’t that why you're here? You’re an artist here to paint the sea, right?” He asks, surely that was the only reason he could give you for coming to such a forgotten corner of the world.

“I’m not really sure why I’m here.” You admit. A big wave comes and you close your eyes at the feeling of water droplets hitting you. “Why are you here?”

“To write,” he says confidently. “It’s easier to write here sometimes. “It’s peaceful isn’t it?” He comes to sit with you. “When things are too much, and my head just won't stop racing I come here to escape it all.”

“Escape” you repeat. “I guess that’s why I’m here too.” you purse your lips, there’s something melancholy about the sea. As much as you tried to lie to yourself and claim it felt like you were a child again, it didn’t. 

Namjoon gets up and inches towards the edge, the wind picks up near there. The waves are loud, and heavier as you watch him take it in with closed eyes. His hair was ruffled by the wind and his arms were open. He looks at peace. Slowly your paint is pulled out and a page in your book is opened. It’s painful to drag the brush over the paper, but you do so anyway. The sight of him is pretty, you want to capture it. You wish it was you up there, but you couldn’t muster the energy to get up. So you settle to watch him. It’s like he forgets you’re there, it’s just him and the sea and the endless lap of freedom the waves bring. You paint an array of dreary colors muddied down. You weren’t sure when he’d leave, or when you would. What would happen after, or if you’d be healed by the time you got back to the house.

You supposed it didn’t matter.

Sometimes escaping isn’t so bad.

tag list: @aris-ink

[skele-bunny]

Fellas I'm thinking about Brother Special again and no one's stopping me

Context; I personally believe Special (and later Cowbell) was Nihil and Imperator first summon; accidentally summoning them both as kits and having to raise them. They're considered their sons and older brothers of the Papa's.

ANYWAYSS

Special laying eyes on Primo for the first time and his eyes just lighting up, his tail can't stop wagging and he just reaches into the bassinet and lightly touched his cheek - and instantly he's attached like no other.

Big brother Special being the first one Terzo comes out to, letting Spec cut his hair all the time and helping pick out more masculine clothes. Advocating for his testosterone and helping him monitor his changes, helping him do his first shot and get Terzo comfortable with needles.

Secundo being the one to walk to Special first, just reaching out for his tail and taking his first steps.

Being on tour with all 3 of his brothers (and eventually 4th as little surprises) and constantly taking care of them despite their older age now. Getting grumpy or flustered when Spec keeps them active on their self care and bragging about them in interviews.

Special casually dropping "big brother lore" and it's literally just "Before you were born, I ate a man for the first time... And not sexually, I did that after you were born." Snjejxkx

Special being the one they come to with their heart breaks. Yes, even Secundo. Always telling them how it'll be okay, and depending on the situation, absolutely trashing on the ex in a friendly manner just to make his brother laugh.

And eventually, relying on his brother's to take care of him like he has them for so long when he can't lift himself after an episode; whimpering his apologies only to be dotted on and comforted.

Meeting Copia for the first time was also a whiplash, completely unaware of a fifth sibling. Trying to take his arrival kindly only to shut down as it costed the life of his other 3 human brothers. Still not able to cope or fully process what's happened - but still accepting him in the long run.

Sometimes he makes sudden visits while Copia is on tour, just to check in on him and even got included in a few photoshoots. He's only found out by the band first, bc they can't tell who this is especially with no smell and then it clicks that there's /no smell/, not even a human smell. The ghouls get so excited and it instantly causes a scenting party.

Idk man, brain so full of Special content I'm going insane

[robins-den]

I had a dream that I was apartment neighbors with james manywinged and the door to his bedroom was just. In the hallway. And right next to the main room of my apartment so I'd just be hanging out and at like 7am he'd knock on my door and be like "hey can you keep it down I'm trying to sleep" and I'd be like "yeah ofc" but internally I was like ??? I was wearing headphones was I really that loud? But whatever

Then I came home and found out my ex boyfriend had dumped all my trash and my cushions and mattresses in the hallway and I was frantically cleaning it up bc I was like "oh God if this is still here when my neighbors get home I'm gonna get called out on Tumblr dot com for being s terrible neighbor" but I got so exhausted I fell asleep on my mattress and woke up to manywinged just stepping over my body to get to his apartment so I guess it was fine

[rueclfer]

That one girl who was 5'8 ". Respectfully, kiss me right now

Also, I'm 5'10, roughly 6'0 with heels on 🤭🤭

(🧋)

im glad u sent another message in my askbox bc i just read through your other ask (very well structured btw ty ty) and it wont let me respond bc it might be too long or sumthing IDK </3 so im gonna respond to it here (i hope u remember what u wrote LMAO im sry but i'll post screenshots of it if u need a refresher heh)

okay so starting with kyren, you are SOOO BRAVVEEE aaauuuuugghhh like confessing to someone on valentines day is so fshbfsdjkfnaen nerve wracking. FFFFFUCK his best friend for making a scene like that and FFFUCK him too for being weird about it afterwards bc if you've known someone for a while and you're good friends with them i feel like it should be easy to talk about it and move past it (but let me not forget this is a man we r talking about hmph)

also? EXPELLED? LMAOOO WHERE DID THAT COME FROMMMM

also unblocking u for u to see that he got back together with his ex....trash.

okay so with gavin's story..... im gonna quickly say that u should've met jenna and teryn in the locker room for a fist fight worldstar style bc that's some conniving evil bitch activity to be going around your back and lying to you abt spreading the rumor :-(((( trust i would've backed u up and we could've tag teamed them

i think its so ????? how high school boys will get SO weird when they find out someone likes them like why are they ghosting u and pretending that u don't exist LMAOO (im glad u guys r chilll again tho)

okay jackson- SAME THING omg literally ghosting u the second they find out u like them????? also was the jenna the best friend that got with him despite u guys having ur girl code thing?? bc u mentioned we dont fw jenna anymore so im connecting the dots heh

BUT HOLD UP NOW? bc they just broke up last week? and everyone is chill with each other again wow

that one bitch in choir who's hating on u i think we should jump her

OVERALL i think the real demon in this is choir IDK Y there is something so sinister about all of these stories revolving around your choir program and people omfg