#we call this the not as embarrassing shuffle as it could have been list!!!!!

[coffee-rack]

Tagged by @yarboyandy !! Thank u Andyyy 🥰

put your library on shuffle and let people vote on the first 5 songs that come up!

Tagging: @vitariesocks @orphanbird95 @juehs34 @marley-manson @writeyourletters-inthesand @scary-ivy and anyone else who wants to do it!!!

[cameronspecial]

Need the rafe and reader locked up in a room 🙏

Don't Stain The Carpet

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Heated Make Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Topper and Kece were sick of the fighting. It was happening all day, every day now and they just wanted it to stop. They might even prefer the days when the two would be caught in a heated makeout session instead of an argument. So, they devised a plan to get the exes on a more cordial playing field. “Dude, I don’t know what’s wrong with it. One moment it’s running fine. The next, it won’t start,” Topper complains, leading Rafe down to the basement. The other boy grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. Just show me where your laptop is. I don’t know why you called me for it. I’m not fucking IT support.” Topper throws him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “But you are good with computers.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Stop being a kiss ass. I’m already here.” 

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Topper shuts up and steps out of the way so Rafe can pass through first. The tall man thinks nothing of it and enters the finished basement; however, when he is face to face with his ex-girlfriend, suspicion overcomes him. It is too late though because as he turns to leave the room and ream Topper out for this setup, the door is locked behind him. He rushes to the door, trying to open it even though he knows it is locked. “Topper, you little shit. Open this door.” He is met with silence, so he steps away from it and turns toward Y/N. “What are you doing here?” he questions. 

She rolls her eyes, “Top said he needed help picking out a gift for his mom. Why are you here?” They both know they have been lied to. It’s obviously from the fact that a laptop isn’t in sight and two separate reasons as to why they are there. 

He glares at her. “Oh, you know, Top said I could meet the Queen of England so I thought wow, I gotta get there. Why does it fucking matter? It was a lie.” She scoffs, “See, that. That is why I broke up with you.” He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “One. The breakup was mutual. Two. What. What is the reason you ‘broke up’ with me.” She holds out her hand and motions up and down, “Because you are an ass. That’s why. You only care for yourself and that’s it.” 

“Oh, please. We both know that isn’t fucking true.” 

“Right, sorry. I forgot about drugs and alcohol. Those might be pretty high up your list.” 

“STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”

His yell has her flinching back and he takes a deep breath while running his hand down his face “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her arms cross and she stands straighter. “You shouldn’t have,” she chastises. “Look, just because we are locked in here together doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ll go see if a call can get through. I mean we really should’ve seen this coming. His basement doesn’t get any signals.” 

With her final mutterance, she storms away from him. Her back hits against the wall and she slides down it. He observes as she pulls her phone out, hearing the familiar music of the cat game she enjoys playing sounds through the room. He smiles at the memory of her turning onto her stomach after an eventful night of love-making to play the game. He would always make fun of her and then rest his chin on her shoulder to watch her play over her shoulder. She used to get so excited when she would find the cat she was looking for. A crease in her forehead forms and he laughs. The noise has her staring at him over her phone. “What?” His hand extends toward her hand, “Didn’t get the cat you wanted?” her gaze flicks down to her phone with a frown. God, she hates how much he knows her. “Yes,” she whispers, slouching in embarrassment. 

Silence occurs on them. He shuffles over to the couch and decides to stroll down memory lane. His thumb swipes through the pictures. Her smile is so bright in this one and the sun hits her just right so it adds an extra shine to her eyes. He should’ve deleted all their pictures together when they broke up but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them. So he hid them away in a folder and promised to never look at them again. He hates that a distance has grown between them. He has to fix it.

“The only thing I ever cared about other than myself is you,” he mumbles. “Hmm,” she sounds out, not looking up from her phone. He clears his throat, “I cared- I mean I still care about you. Maybe even more than I care about myself.” He takes a second to think about it. “Actually. I definitely care about you more than myself.” The tone shifts in her room and she puts her phone down. He heads over to her, settling on the floor beside her. She looks him in the eyes and her vision has blurred. “Then why weren’t you there? You promised you would be after all the other things you skipped. The worst thing was that you wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He bites the corner of his lip and reaches into his pocket for his keys. He grows through his keys and holds them out to her, “I was out getting this. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” She takes the key ring into her hands and a shiny diamond stares back at her. “You were buying me a ring,” she murmurs. He nods, “I wanted to marry you and I know that this wouldn’t have made up for all the other things I missed, but I was hoping it would show you that I was committed to being with you.”

Everything she has felt for him for as long as she has known him comes cropping up and she takes a chance. “Do you still want to marry me?” she questions. His hand rests on her cheek, “More than anything else in the world.” She grins at him with tears leaking out of her eyes. “Then let's get married.” She presses their lips together and swings her leg over him. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her in closer than possible. As she begins to grind down into him, a loud crash comes from behind him. “I wanted this to work. However, I didn’t want this to work this well,” Topper gripes. Rafe’s eyes narrow at him. “Get out,” Rafe growls at Kelce and Topper, who are standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Kelce and Topper look at each other with a nod. Topper grabs the doorknob and pulls the door closed. “Don’t stain the carpet!” Topper’s voice pleads through the door, causing the newly reunited couple to laugh together.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[claraswritings]

Reader runs a daycare but it’s taking a toll on her mental health and carmy notices (they’re married)

Aww 🥰.

Blurb BTC- mentions of work stress but mostly fluffy

It had been… the

Between a flu bug sweeping through the kids and then the staff leaving you short staffed, the parents complaining about a schedule change, and trying to keep several babies and toddlers in check, you were completely wiped out mentally.

You just felt so drained and stressed and you hated how it was affecting you. All you wanted was to lie down and just shut off.

Carmy could see it. Gradually as the week went on, you got quieter and quieter. You’d stopped talking, you’d barely eaten your dinner, taken to pushing the pepper rigatoni around the plate and answering his questions with hmmm’s and uh-huhs.

“It’s fine, Carm” you muttered “Just nothing”

“It’s not fine, baby, you’ve been acting off all week.” He insisted.

“Haven’t.” You said a little stubbornly, feeling a bit embarrassed at how your husband had noticed.

Carmy crossed his broad arms over his toned chest “I think I know when my wife is acting off.” He paused, worry entering his voice “Is it me? I know I’ve been working non-stop but…”

You felt your heart ache at that, feeling a little guilty “No! Babe no, of course it’s not you!”

Carmy’s expression relaxed but he still shuffled closer to you, taking your hand in his. “Then what’s going on” he was careful, lifting your face to meet his big blue eyes “let me help you, you’ve always supported me…”

“It’s just…it’s work” you said hoping it didn’t sound silly. It had been your dream to manage your own daycare and you loved it, you really did but sometimes it just got so heavy. You hated complaining about it because you never wanted to seem ungrateful.

“What’s up, please talk to me?” Carmy soothed, his hand coming to brush your hair back off your face.

“It’s just a lot… I don’t want to bother you, but it’s been so stressful and…” you looked down and took a deep breath.

“Hey, hey….” Carmy soothed taking you into his arms “just because it’s your dream doesn’t mean it’s not stressful.” He paused “trust me! I’d know all about that”

You bit back a reluctant laugh. He had a point.

“Let me make you a hot cocoa babe, with extras how you like it….and then you can talk me through it?”

You nodded as Carmy stroked your hand offering you comfort. He gave you a kiss before heading to the kitchen, and when he returned he was back with your hot cocoa and a warm blanket.

“Come on, talk to me angel” he said, wrapping it around you and placing the mug in your hands.

“Well okay…so Isabella’s parents have been kicking off all week because…they don’t want her to take part in some of the activities we get the kids do to but she loves it….And Connor, he’s a sweet kid but he just will not go down for nap time…”

You began listing off your stresses as Carmy gently rubbed your shoulders.

“And I’ve had four staff call in sick so it’s just been me and Amy…and she’s brand new so can’t do half the things yet because she’s still training…”

You continued listing and talking through your stresses as Carmy listened occasionally interjecting with a question or to offer a comment.

“Those kids are so lucky to have you looking after them, you are the best at what you do” he said when you’d finished and flopped back against him, feeling like the weight had subsided a little.

“Thank you for listening babe” you smiled at him “And you know what. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Anything for my beautiful wife” Carmy leant in and gave you a kiss

[5xlwriter]

Feedist Kinktober: Ex-Model

Part of a series of one-shots in response to @fatguarddog’s Feedist Kinktober 2024 prompts. I see this as a double response to the prompts Runway Ready and Wardrobe Woe.

“Thanks for your time, Brett,” I said, feigning a smile as I looked up from my clipboard. “We’ll call you!”

The muscle-bound hunk nodded cockily and pulled back on his stringy gymrat vest, giving us one last glimpse at his abs in the process before turning and leaving the audition room. His firm glutes shifted in his shorts as he vanished through the doors. I sighed.

Of course, there was no denying that Brett was absolutely gorgeous. He knew it, I knew it, anyone who saw him knew it. And while I might be tempted to call him up for a hookup, there was no way he was getting a callback for this show. He just didn’t have the right look.

The designer, Cherish Misère, was dark, edgy and honestly, kinda goth. There’s a lot that can be achieved with makeup and styling, of course, but nobody’s going to buy that with a jock like Brett. We were looking for skinny guys, with longer slender limbs and angled faces that we could make gaunt with contouring. Brett just didn’t fit the bill - and neither did many of the other hopefuls I’d seen that day. Ugh, Cherish was gonna kill me.

I huffed another deep sigh as I flipped the page on my clipboard, and then was stopped in my tracks at the photo attached to the next profile. That curly brown hair, those sharp, boyish features, those dark, arresting eyes… Tristan!

What a godsend! Tristan was absolutely perfect for the show. Cherish would eat him up, and all the clothes would fit like they were made for him. He and I had been students together. We’d studied Media & Communications and had gotten along well, but drifted in the couple of years since we graduated. He’d always modelled to raise funds when we were at uni, seeming to never need to hold down a real job as a result - but the last I heard, he was now skyrocketing up the corporate ladder, while I was sat here auditioning himbos for D-rate shows at the Fashion Week Fringe. It’s the sort of thing that would usually fill me with so much embarrassment that I’d find an escape route - we gays always compare ourselves to our peers - but in this instance, I didn’t care. I was just glad to finally have found some actual talent! The day was not a complete waste after all.

“Bring in the next one,” I called to my assistant and tried to make myself look as relaxed as possible. I was going to feign surprise, like I’d been caught off-guard. I needed to look busy and important. I sat up straight, eyes fixed on my clipboard until I heard someone shuffle in front of me.

“Hey, Rick!” He announced. His voice was just as I remembered it, but… maybe a touch deeper?

I looked up, ready to burst into a big smile and announce what a pleasant surprise it was to see him again. But then, I really was caught off-guard. My thoughts ground to a halt, leaving an uncomfortable pause as my brain scrambled to register what was going on.

My assistant intervened. “Um, Rick, this is…”

“—Tristan!” I interjected, finally managing the smile I’d been preparing, though I’m not sure how convincing it came off. “What a surprise!”

The surprise was that Tristan was fat. OK, that was maybe a little dramatic - he wasn’t fat fat. But I guessed him to be at least 50 or 60lbs heavier than the 135lbs he listed on his modelling profile - which made him gay fat. I couldn’t believe it!

I was so conflicted. On the one hand, I was a little ashamed to admit that part of me loved seeing perfect Tristan let himself go like this. He had always been nothing but kind to me, so it was completely mean-spirited of me, but I couldn’t help being jealous of all his achievements. It was nice to finally have one up on him, having maintained my own figure - heck, maybe even improved it? - since graduating.

On the other hand, there was no way I could cast Tristan with him looking like this. I could tell just by looking at him that it would take a small miracle to squeeze him into anything Cherish made, which meant I’d just lost my star model just as quickly as I thought I’d found him.

That, I had to worry about later. For now I had to finish this encounter with my old friend, let him down without hurting his feelings, and maybe find out what had caused him to blow up. Maybe he was depressed?

He didn’t look depressed. He was smiling that famously enchanting smile of his, which now showed off the beginnings of a double chin. I made my way over to give him a hug.

“Heh, I thought you didn’t recognise me!” He said as he wrapped his softer arms around me. He was squishy all over.

“Of course I recognise you,” I said, trying to brush it off. “It’s so good to see all of you— I mean, to see you, it’s so good to see you…” Fuck.

Tristan didn’t seem to notice - or if he did, then he didn’t seem to mind. I was happy with either. We pressed on with the pleasantries, Tristan telling me about his latest promotion whilst I did my best to make my own job sound interesting. In truth, it was great catching up with him… Tristan was just so charming, and even with his fuller figure he just exuded a confidence and charisma that was unlike anyone I’d ever met… perhaps even more so then I remembered? He was definitely flirty, and somehow I found myself flirting back despite him no longer being my type.

I wasn’t quite sure how it had happened… Maybe it was witchcraft. Maybe I felt sorry for him. Or maybe it was just that trademark smile that he kept flashing me, undampened by his rounder face…

“I think you’d be a great fit!” I said, the words leaving my mouth without my permission. My brain protested but my lips kept moving. “We’ll see you Monday for the fittings, so we can get things taken in if we need to.” What the fuck was I saying? What was I doing?

As Tristan left with his paperwork, I caught the confused look on my assistant’s face and buried my head in my hands. Cherish was going to fucking kill me.

***

Monday came around fast. In that time, I’d managed to assemble a motley crew of gangly young men to model Cherish’s collection. None of them had walked a runway in their lives, nor did they really have the face card needed for a career in modelling, but they were the best I could rustle up with Fashion Week on the horizon.

We’d started the morning with runway rehearsals and trying to get some charisma out of these boys was like getting blood from a stone. I was relieved that Tristan hadn’t shown up. I figured he had come to the realisation that he quite literally wasn’t a good fit for this, and had decided to silently slink away, saving me a difficult conversation. Now all we had to do was avoid each other for the rest of our lives!

But no, it was never going to be that easy. Tristan arrived late, commanding attention as soon as he entered the studio, smiling and greeting his fellow models as he finished off the remainder of a large smoked salmon bagel loaded with cream cheese. Now there was someone with charisma. He didn’t even try. Nor did he try to excuse his tardiness. “We both know I don’t need practice at this!” he laughed warmly when we had a quiet moment together.

And he was right. He stomped the runway like a pro, showing each of the confused wannabes how it was done. He was the elephant in the room; he didn’t belong; and yet, he was putting them all to shame. I watched bitterly as he walked back up the length of the runway, noticing the slight jiggle and bounce in his body with each deliberate step he made. Ugh, I was not looking forward to this conversation…

Later, as we prepared for the session with wardrobe, I pulled Tristan to one side.

“Listen, Tristan, I need to talk with you,” I said, trying to sound both relaxed and in control. “You know I think you’re amazing, but I don’t think this is the right gig for you…”

Tristan raised an eyebrow for a moment, not sure what to make of what I’d said, before he burst out laughing. “Ha, yeah, good one Rick. Don’t worry, I’ll help the other guys get the hang of it. It’s not rocket science.”

I frowned. “No, Tristan, you don’t understand…” Ugh! I hated this! “I’m serious. I don’t think you’re the right… fit…” I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at his round midsection when I said it - only for a fraction of a second, but Tristan was quick enough to catch it.

“Oh…” he said, looking down at his body for a moment. “You think I’m too fat?” He looked hurt. I’d never seen him not radiating charm and confidence, but in the moment all of that dissipated. He looked like a little lost puppy. “I know I’ve gained a few… I’ve been working flat out at the office… But I didn’t think it was that bad…”

“It’s not!” I blurted out in a panic, desperate to backtrack. “You look great! Better than ever, actually. You look really healthy. That’s super in right now!” It was all lies, and I hated myself for it, but seeing that famous smile return to his face made it worth it.

And so Tristan was whisked off to wardrobe, where we tried to squeeze him into some of the pieces. I thought maybe, if we went with something layered, we could disguise his bulked up body and it might be OK. I was wrong.

Tristan was wearing a black ripped vest, designed to be tight even on a slender model, but practically painted onto him now and emphasising the ball of flesh at his waist. The fact it was ripped made him look like he’d burst out of it. When he moved his arms too high, a little slither of soft flesh would peek out the bottom. He wore a big leather trench coat, down to the floor, which I figured would do a lot of the heavy lifting in making Tristan look presentable - except, we couldn’t fasten it shut over his middle. And on his bottom half, he just wore his underwear and socks, as absolutely nothing that Cherish had designed would slide over his newly thickened thighs and ass.

Fortunately, Tristan may have been oblivious to how much he’d grown, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew this wasn’t going to work. Quietly, he wrestled himself out of the tight garments we’d given him and began to change into his own clothes. I kept my distance and tried to focus on the other boys. Later, as Tristan was leaving, I followed him out.

“Hey Tristan,” I called. “Wait up!” He turned to face me, and was still smiling, but he looked tired and pensive.

“Thanks for the opportunity, Rick! Sorry it didn’t work out.” He said, before surprising me by tapping his softer middle. “Guess I’ve been neglecting the gym!”

“Don’t worry about it, T,” I said. “You still look great and you can definitely work it off — if you want to,” I paused for a moment, hesitating as I decided whether to say what I was about to say. “Or… In the meantime, my friend runs this other company…” I handed him the card.

“Max Macdonald - Plus Size Agency”, Tristan read off the card. He sounded unsure and I thought I might have offended him again, but eventually he pocketed the card. “Thanks, Rick,” he said, giving me a quick hug. “See you around!”

***

As it happened, I never did see Tristan again. It had been four years since our awkward encounter when I found myself in a bar, catching up with my old friend Max, who I also hadn’t seen in years. Being an adult sucked!

Max had been vocally admiring a large man at the bar, telling me in great detail why this stranger’s corpulent body was so superior to the kind of talent I represented. (I’d learned my lesson and played to my strengths, now I had my own agency and was exclusively representing muscle-bound Greek Gods for high-profile names.)

None of it surprised me. Max had always been unashamedly into big guys, despite being in good shape himself. I’d seen him go through many boyfriends - usually they were varying degrees of fat, but sometimes there was a twink or two. They’d soon start to bulk up around him and usually this was when they wised up to his feeder ways and dumped him. He didn’t seem to care, and I always loved that about him. I definitely didn’t share his tastes, but I respected his unabashed commitment to them all the same.

And it seemed to be working out for him! After all, it was his love of big men that had led him to start the plus size agency that was now getting him contracts all over the world.

“Oh my god!” Max said, nearly spitting out his beer as a memory seemed to hit him like a truck. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you!” He was laughing hysterically and I pressed him urgently for more details. Max was a great storyteller and I found myself eager to hear his tale.

“A few years ago, I was approached by this dude,” he started. I nodded. “He was young, super handsome and charismatic like no one else! He told me you’d sent him.” I paused, knowing instantly that he was talking about Tristan, though I didn’t let on. I wanted to see where this was going.

“He said he was interested in some modelling with me. I told him, ‘look man, you’re gorgeous and you’ve got it, but you’re not exactly plus size’…” He took another swig of his beer. “He was like 200lbs at most. At most!”

I laughed along. “Haha, yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t really know where else to send him. He was too fat for us, but clearly not fat enough for you!” I took a sip of my drink, feeling a little bad for leading Tristan towards more rejection.

“Not then he wasn’t!” laughed Max. I didn’t like the tone in his voice… it was… mischievous. He was relishing in this story. “But I bumped into him a couple of years later at a chub event downtown. I didn’t recognise him at first but he came right over and introduced himself… all 350lbs of him!”

“No fucking way!” My mouth dropped to the floor as my mind raced at a hundred miles an hour, trying to imagine how big a 350lb person would look… How big a 350lb Tristan would look! That more way more than twice the size he’d been at uni.

“Yes way, he was just in a jock strap and a leather harness, shaking and jiggling all over the dance floor. There was no hiding it. He wasn’t the fattest person there by a long shot - a couple of guys were almost twice as big as him - but everyone in the joint wanted to fuck him.” He sat back and smiled smugly, looking very pleased with himself.

I gasped. “You didn’t!”

“I did!” he said, a big grin on his face. “And it was great. Like really great. Man, I had to fucking work for it though. He asked if we could stop for something to eat on the way back to my place - and we did, three times!” He clearly found the story hilarious. “I paid for the lot… Worth it though!”

I was in shock, no longer finding it funny but trying my best to play along. I couldn’t believe that had happened. Maybe Max was just exaggerating. 350lbs? Surely not…

“So, did you end up signing him?” I asked.

“Nah,” said Max, looking a little solemn before finishing his drink. “When I woke up the next day, he’d vanished without a trace and I never saw him again…”

I was about to interject, to empathise for Max, and to tell him how shitty that was, but Max held up a hand to stop me. He wasn’t finished. That big grin had returned to his face and he fished his phone from his pocket.

“I never saw him again until last week…” he said, quickly navigating his home screen to pull up one of his fetish community apps. It didn’t phase me - like I said, Max had always been very open about this stuff.

“I was swiping through the other day when I saw this prize-winning pig…” he was practically giggling as he showed me the phone screen. It was a video, captioned with just two words: “Almost 500lbs”, with a pig nose emoji for emphasis. In the video, an absolutely enormous man was wearing a far too tight black half-zip sweater over a black t-shirt. He was standing close to the camera, with his head cut off by the frame. The strained clothes clung tightly to every curve, roll and fold on his fat frame: his giant tits threatened to burst out of the sweater (the zip of which would never fasten around his fat neck), while about 20cm of pure fat belly hung out the bottom, his gluttony on full view.

Why was Max showing me this? There was nothing to suggest this was Tristan. I became increasingly convinced that this was a practical joke. There was no way that someone who used to look like Tristan now looked like… this.

But then, the whale in the video took a few steps backwards as he jiggled his huge gut for the camera, and his fat face came into view. My world stopped for a moment: it was Tristan, no doubt about it.

Had I seen this veritable blob in the street, I would never have recognised him as my old friend. But I had been primed to see him, and see him I did: even though his sharp and boyish features were now buried under blubbery cheeks, there was no mistaking the charismatic allure of those eyes, which now seemed small and beady in his fat face. All the movement in his gut caused a loud burp to erupt from his mouth, and the smile that followed it as he looked upon his body with appreciation was unmistakably his. Even when being absolutely disgusting, something about Tristan was still so confident, so irresistible… he was magnetic.

“These are the clothes I was wearing when we first met back up,” he said to someone off screen, who chucked back. I recognised that laugh… “Can you believe that was only a year ago?”

“No,” came the familiar voice, as two arms entered the frame and began to pull off Tristan’s clothes, revealing his flabby body in all its perverted glory. The arms and voice belonged to someone older than Tristan by about 15 years. They were reasonably toned and thick with hair, and the strong-looking hands took big handfuls of Tristan’s tits and flesh, shaking it and making his whole body wobble. Then the anonymous figure moved into the screen, kissing Tristan on his big, fat cheek.

I almost dropped Max’s phone and had to do a double take. Was that our fucking professor?! He looked a little older than I remembered him, which was natural, but I was sure it was him.

“…but you’re nearly 100lbs bigger since then, so that’s not surprising,” he said seductively, bringing a cream filled bun up to Tristan’s lips. His mouth opened dutifully and made short work of the pastry, which got swallowed down into his giant gut.

“And why do you think that is?” huffed Tristan, rubbing his belly and stifling another burp. He looked so cocky and sure of himself… more than that, he looked like he was worshipping himself.

“Because,” said our old professor. “You’re a spoiled piggy who gets whatever he wants.”

[kireijae]

confused! - ldh

a/n: i listened to pado and this is what came of it

warnings: minors who read this will be skinned. not full on smut but close enough. some angst but smutty fluff ending

—

you felt haechan get up beside you, pulling his warmth with him. you were laid in your bed, snuggled up in haechan's t-shirt from the night- or hours- before.

he had a schedule soon, you weren't quite sure what time it was, but you could hear him quietly ticking off his mental to-do list.

"okay, 15 minutes. i should shower," he mumbled, something he always did when he was rushing to work.

you heard the water turn on, and nearly fell asleep again to the rhythmic sound of it falling to the floor.

"yeah, mark, i'm at her place right now."

you weren't sure how long you'd slept for, most likely around 10 minutes, because haechan could still be heard, though he was outside your bedroom door now.

"i'd tell you some of the details later but we won't have time to talk by ourselves much right?" you mentally rolled your eyes. of course he would tell mark about your first night being (somewhat) intimate. you were taking it slow, so anything happening was exciting for the both of you. you didn't really blame him, you'd definitely call your best friend as soon as the sun came up and fill her in on your night.

"dude..." haechan trailed off into a sigh. "she had me confused."

'confused'? the words hit you like a block of ice. what had you done wrong? why didn't he say anything?

"yeah! i tried to look down and see what she was doing so i could get her to slow down or something– no, she wasn't looking at me! her eyes were closed! and she was moaning like crazy!"

your body chilled further, but your cheeks heated up to a searing temperature, the embarrassment flooding your senses. why had he not stopped you anyway if it was that bad?

"yeah, so i had to just hold on and pray, man," haechan laughed.

you felt tears spring to your eyes and your face grew hot. blood rushed through your ears and you didn't hear anything haechan said until he opened the door to your room.

"yeah, i'm on my way out now. see you," he whispered, grabbing something from on top of your dresser.

you heard him shuffle over to you and felt his lips press into your hair. you were glad for the lingering darkness, as it hid your saddened features from your boyfriend.

–

haechan texted you at 5pm asking if he could come over after his schedules and you begrudgingly agreed. he'd whined when you'd attempted to wiggle your way out of seeing him, so you submitted. it would be a good opportunity to talk about what you heard that morning.

you'd been awake enough at the time to know it wasn't just a bad dream, though you'd tried to convince yourself it had been while you ate breakfast.

you psyched yourself up to see him again. tried to get yourself a little script to recite to him when he got there, but when he was right in front of you, holding his exhaustion in his eyes and a to-go bag from your favourite restaurant, you felt all the conviction you had earlier leave you in a matter of seconds.

so, there you were watching the office with haechan curled around you on the couch. he was gently caressing your upper arm with his left hand.

"did you have a good day, baby?" he asked, turning his attention from the show to you.

you guessed then was your chance, "umh, no not really." and as soon as you said it, he bolted up, sitting cross legged to your left, holding your hand.

"what's wrong?" he asked, sparkling eyes digging into yours to find an answer. "tell me, baby."

you sighed, obviously your conviction was once again swiped away by the boy before you. why was he so sweet? and why was he so stupid?

he sat there, waiting for your answer patiently.

"i heard you this morning," you finally let out, "on the phone."

his brows furrowed under his dark fringe, "did i wake you up?"

you looked down and shook your head, too embarrassed to look at him.

"i just wish you'd have spoken to me first instead of telling mark," you nearly whispered, anxiety pushing your voice higher than it usually was.

"oh," he said in the midst of his realisation, "i'm so sorry, angel, i won't talk about our sex lives with anyone if you don't want me to. i should've made sure you were okay with it first, huh?"

he rubbed your arm, but you shook it off. "i don't mean that," you still didn't have the courage to look at him. you took a long pause before speaking, the lump in your throat evident in your voice, "i mean you should tell me if you don't like something i'm doing. i want to make you feel good, and i can't do that if you don't tell me if i'm doing something wrong. you know it was my first time doing anything like that."

haechan's features were back to holding his confusion, "what do you mean? i loved every second of it. and i wouldn't have told mark otherwise."

you scoffed, "donghyuck, i heard you tell him that you wanted to slow me down and that i confused you. you–"

"that's what you thought i meant?" he burst out.

"what else could that mean, donghyuck?" your eyelids dropped slightly, nonplussed.

"it means you were so good i couldn't think straight," he said, pushing his face closer to yours as if close proximity would get the point across easier.

"what?" you still didn't believe him, "then why'd you try to slow me down? and what about the holding on and praying or whatever?"

he got closer to you again, his demeanour changing slightly– a lustful aura overtaking him. "because you were so good i was gonna cum down your throat after 30 seconds, only god could help me then."

you gave him the best unimpressed look you could, what with him smirking at you the way he was. you didn't want to get your hopes up, he had to be kidding. "you lasted pretty long, hyuck."

"i'll say. 3 minutes feels like forever when you're trying not to cum the whole time," he countered, "and you know i'm not usually that fast."

he had you there. although you hadn't gone much further than make-out sessions with hyuck, you had experimented a little. you'd cum on haechan's lap a few times and each time he'd get two orgasms out of you before he'd even thought to reach into his sweats and finish himself off. and even then he'd make you ride his thigh for a while longer before he came.

"that wasn't the real thing though," you argued.

"you think i don't know what i'm doing baby?" he asked slyly as he pulled your legs over his thighs.

you shook your head teasingly. another lie. haechan was known for having plenty of experience and particularly for having insane stamina. it was one of the things that intimidated you about him when you'd first met. who would want to date a virgin when he had his pick of any girl he wanted?

it was likely your insecurities around your inexperience that led to you perceiving his words the way you did, but that was a thought for a later time.

"i guess i'll have to prove myself then, huh, baby?" he barely got the whole sentence out before he was kissing you, roughly, and pushing you back down on the sofa.

the heat in your cheeks you felt that morning was no match for the burning sensation his lips left behind as he trailed down your jaw to your neck. he nibbled and sucked on your pulse point to pull specks of red, blue and purple to the surface of your skin.

"you drive me crazy, you know that?" he commented, probably spurred on by the small sighs falling from your mouth.

"you were already crazy when i met you," you giggled, looking down at him through his fringe.

he bit you a little harder at that, and when you squealed, he laughed heartily.

hyuck continued to kiss your neck, eventually moving down to your collarbones and then looking up to you expectantly with his hands pulling at the hem of your shirt.

"can i take this off?"

a small nod, and your shirt was gone a second later. replaced by warm hands and soft lips, anywhere they could reach.

"i'm gonna eat you out, okay sweetness?" he spoke as he slid his hand along the inside of your thigh. "i'll show you what it's like to feel so good you can't think."

you smiled at him and nodded, all embarrassment and doubt already wizzing right out of your head at the nickname paired with the thought of what was to come. pun intended.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 6

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You rub your arm as you stand to the side, waiting as Peter pays at the till for the two bags worth of groceries. The easiness of his transaction, the casualness of his snack spree, needles in your head. You never walked the aisles without a specific number and strict list of necessities. He strolled around, offering to buy you any sweet snack that stuck out to him.

You refused it all. You already feel like too much. The way you tower over him and lope around after him like a strange shadow makes you want to wilt away.

As he gets his receipt you grab the bags from the end of the till. Peter startles you as his hand wraps around yours and you flinch, facing him. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t… I was trying to help–”

“I’ll carry them,” he insists, “please, you’re my guest. You don’t have to carry the bags.”

“I don’t mind,” you say but let him take the groceries. You’re embarrassed by your misplaced courtesy.

“I know you don’t mind, but I do,” he says, “Aunt May wouldn’t like me making a pretty girl do all the heavy lifting.”

You dip your chin down, “right.”

“Well, let’s go,” he steps past you, “i hear my Switch calling us.”

You trail after him and wring your hands. You peek over at the tills as you pass. You’ve never been in this place before. It’s too overpriced for your pockets.

“Switch?” You wonder as you follow him through the automatic doors.

“Uh yeah, the system?” He explains, “man, you’re gonna love it. It’s so much fun. We could do some practice rounds before everyone gets there.”

“Sure, I guess,” you agree as you cross the parking lot.

“Don’t sound so excited,” he teases as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the keys.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“Kidding,” he says as he puts the bags in the backseat, “trust, this is gonna be hype.”

🪻

Peter leads you up to a small two-story house. It’s a lot nicer than your father’s apartment. The walls aren’t peeling or stained and the floors are clean. You stop just inside to remove your shoes as he does the same, the bags on the short bench against the wall.

“Peter?” A voice precedes the appearances of an older woman, her dark hair wavy and woven with strands of silver, “you’re back. I didn’t think I’d catch you before Denise got here– oh,” she stops short as she sees you, “who’s this?”

Peter lifts the bags and introduces you. You give a tiny wave as you stay by the door, “this is my Aunt May,” he explains as he sidles past her.

“Oh, honey, please come in,” she beckons you closer, “I’m just on my way out so you won’t need to worry about me.”

“Uh, alright,” you clasp your hand around your elbow as you shuffle forward.

“My, you’re so tall,” she remarks, “like a model.”

“Um,” your cheeks and ears burn, “not really.”

“Can I get you something before I go?”

“May, I got it,” Peter calls from an empty doorway, “stop trying to scare my friends away.”

“I’m not scary,” she giggles, “please make yourself at home.”

She smiles and flits through the door, “Pete, I’m gonna stay at Denise’s so you guy will have the house to yourselves. When I get back, I don’t want a mess.”

You hover just outside but quickly retreat. You wouldn’t want to eavesdrop. As you turn on your heel, you hear her lower her voice to a whisper, you only catch a single word, “cute…”

“May,” Peter groans loudly in response and you make an effort to block out their conversation. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs, too anxious to explore further. You look around at the pictures on the wall; Peter and his aunt on all sorts of adventures, him with some sort of school award, and hand-painted welcome sign just inside the entryway.

“Anywho,” May trills as she appears again, “I’m on my way.” She steps into heeled boots and looks over at you, “it was really nice to meet you, honey.”

“Um, you too,” you murmur.

“Have lots of fun,” she says loud enough for Peter to hear.

“Mayyyyyy,” he drones.

“Fine, fine,” she cringes, “bye.”

She turns, snatching her purse up from the bench and scurries out the door. You stand in the silence left by her departure. You hear Peter in another room moving around. You clasp your hands together and bob on your heels.

“Hey,” he startles you, “come on.”

“Oh,” you turn and follow him as he waves you through the doorway. 

You pad through the front room and turn through another door into a kitchen. He has several bowls filled with chips. Your stomach growls at the sight and you press your palm to it, trying to quiet it.

“Hungry?” He chuckles as the rumble fills the lull.

“I’m good,” you insist.

“Sorry about May, she can be so embarrassing.”

“She’s nice,” you say.

“Yeah, she is,” he agrees reluctantly, “she just… likes to make a big deal.”

You nod and weave your fingers together then pull them apart, “can I help with anything?”

“Uh, sure,” he looks around, “we’ll be hanging out in the basement so you could bring some of these down,” he gestures to the chips.

“Sure,” you step closer to the counter.

“I’ll show you where,” he takes two bowls and you do the same, “I forgot to ask, what do you like to drink?”

He turns and leads you into the hallway off the kitchen, down to a door behind the ascending staircase. Beneath, is another set of steps that turn at a ninety degree angle. He lets you go first.

“Water is fine,” you say as you descend.

“Water? I mean… do you like beer or–”

“I don’t drink,” you say a bit too tersely. “Sorry, I… no, I don’t drink.”

“That’s cool,” he replies, “I got koolaid or soda.”

“Thanks, um, I just… I don’t like alcohol.”

“Yeah, fair, my friends are big drinkers, I’m not much into it.”

There’s a folding table set up against the wall. You put the chips there as he does the same, brushing close before he backs up. You look around at the furnished basement; there’s a sectional and two armchairs, gathered around a large screen television and a bunch of accessories. You feel small, a peculiar sensation for you.

“I’ll go grab everything else, why don’t you get settled in?” He suggests, “oh, and you’re welcome to dig into the snacks. You don’t have to wait.”

“Thanks, I’m good,” you smile and turn to pace around, reluctant to do anything more than look. You’d hate to make a mess of it.

“Right,” his voice is flat, almost disappointed, “I’ll be back.”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Go For What You Want

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: mentions of violence but nothing too serious

Genre: fluff & minor angst

Summary: apparently kissing your shy neighbor wasn't enough of a hint for him, time to be even more direct. Somehow...

A/N: This is Part 2 of Secrets That Whisper & Shout, I'm officially making it an anthology :))

***

That kiss was almost two weeks ago now and nothing has happened. You didn't even get to have a proper conversation that day because you got a frantic call from one of your girlfriends before you could address the situation and Steven politely excused himself to let you take care of her situation. And since then, you wouldn't say Steven's been avoiding you exactly but he certainly hasn't been doing much in the way of conversing. You've mostly been seeing him in passing and if you try to hold him for more than a few minutes either Marc takes over or one of them makes an excuse to leave. All in all, things have been weird and you're sick of it so today you're absolutely over it.

You knock on his door firmly with a whole bulleted list of points in your mind. You hear shuffling on the other side and two whole minutes go by before the door swings open.

"Y/n! Hi. What brings you over? Is everything alright? I was in the middle of-" You know Steven's about to give you an excuse to keep things short so you stop him with a raised hand.

"This won't take long, I have somewhere to be but quite frankly I'm sick of you half avoiding me and I'm only here to tell you that it has to stop. If kissing made you that uncomfortable you should just say so, you are an adult and I can take care of myself there's no need to dance around it like you're scared to hurt my feelings or something."

"What?" He blinks at you.

"Things are weird and I don't like it. If you don't want to talk to me then say so but this thing where you act like things are normal while acting very NOT normal has to end." 

"It's not that I don't want to talk to you! I talk to you almost every day."

"Asking me how my day was when I catch you in the elevator is not the same Steven and you know it. What is going on with you?"

"I- well to be fair it's not like this has exactly gone in the right order I- I don't know what I'm supposed to do here."

"Right order? Steven we kissed each other it's not like we eloped in Vegas and the next step regardless would be taking me on a date or asking me to be your girlfriend or anything that indicates you actually want something with me." You huff.

"What?" His eyes widen.

"A date, Steven, most people would ask the girl they like on a date."

"You want to go on a date with me?"

"I've been waiting for you to ask me since we kissed."

"Oh. Oh! I- I'm an idiot." Steven palms his face in embarrassment.

"Well, I won't disagree with you." You shrug.

"A date. It would be an honor to take you on a date."

"Well, then get planning. I have to go, but you have until the weekend."

"Wait do you mean we're going on the date this weekend or that I have until this weekend to have a plan?"

"If you can make it this weekend I would be... surprised, impressed- but a plan will do just fine." You tell him.

"Okay." He nods.

"Okay. See you soon." You say and pivot on your heel to head down the hall. You do actually have somewhere to be. Steven may not be quick to take the lead but he is certainly quick to move when prompted because he does in fact make your date that weekend. Saturday afternoon you're on the couch reading when there's a knock on your door. The first set of knocks is shaky but before you manage to get up there's a second set of much sharper more assured knocks. When you pull the door open Steven stands there with a set of flowers.

"Steven. Hi. You know you- could've just texted me with what our plans would be?" You smile.

"Well yeah, I know but I was hoping you were free now."

"Now?"

"For our date."

"You wanna go now?"

"No time like the present!"

"Alright, give me like 10 minutes to change."

"You look fine."

"Steven I'll freeze once the sun goes down if I go out in this tank top." You chuckle.

"Fair."

"Where are we going?"

"I can't tell you."

"Well how am I supposed to dress then?"

"Casually is fine."

"Alright. You can sit on the couch and wait." You say leaving him in your doorway to go swap your loungewear for something more date-appropriate. A cropped sweater and a skater skirt with a pair of boots. Ten minutes later you practically skip out to the living room again and Steven stands before you've even reached the couch.

"I- forgot to actually hand these to you when you opened the door." He says holding out the flowers he brought.

"Thank you Steven. I'll throw these in a vase and then we can go!"

"Of course." He nods. You quickly find a big enough container for the flowers.

"Okay let's go." You say and hold out a hand for Steven to follow you out of your apartment.

"I was going to take you to dinner, but Marc insisted it was too basic. Although his suggestion was totally out of the question so- we worked to find something we both could get behind." Steven says while the two of you are walking.

"What was Marc's suggestion?" You chuckled.

"Nothing good." Steven shakes his head.

Hey, my ideas were great! Heaven forbid I try to make shit more interesting than just dinner!

"More interesting how?" You chuckle.

"What?" Steven frowns.

"Sorry- I just- went into your head by accident again. We need to work on that actually but conversation for a different day. I just heard Marc- he said he was trying to 'make shit more interesting' and now I'm curious what he means."

"Skydiving."

"Skydiving?!"

"That was his first suggestion." Steven nods.

"His first suggestion was skydiving?!"

"Yes."

"If you'll excuse me for a moment I'm going to jump into your mind and yell at him directly. You'll have to guide me as we walk."

"Oh- okay?"

You're first suggestion was skydiving?!

Well yeah, Steven just wanted to go to dinner and he told me you guys used to do lunch a lot already so I can't imagine it would be fun to do something you've already done."

Marc- everyone has to eat in fact you're supposed to do it multiple times a day not to mention there are so many types of food and so many places to go it would take so long to run out of new ways to experience the thing we all have to do it's why food is like a universal truth on dates. You know what would really not be fun on a date? Dying. Infinitely less fun."

Oh come on we wouldn't let you die.

You cannot control what happens if I jump out of a plane at thirty thousand feet in the air. I can guarantee you've jumped off of several roofs working for that crazy ass bird, is that not enough heights for you? I would assume you get more than enough, honestly, you probably get too much, adrenaline doing errands for Khonshu, if you're becoming a junkie for it don't drag me into your chases. Actually, you're not allowed to chase it period it is stressful enough leaving your safety in the hands of a ten foot tall bird skeleton you are not allowed to bring that kind of stress into non-mission scenarios.

Fine- no jumping out of planes.

Or off of bridges, or off of cliffs, or into shark infested waters, or river rapids or-

I won't do anything to harm us, sweetheart. We're here though so, you should hop outta here and talk to Steven. He's been anxious about this date all week.

Alright, I'll probably check in with you later.

 With that you push out of the boys' mind and take a moment to check your surroundings.

"An arcade!? Oh my gosh!" You gasp.

"You like it?" Steven asks.

"Who doesn't love the arcade?!"

"Well I bought game passes already so- where do you want to start?" He asks.

"Oh it doesn't matter I'm so gonna kick your butt at everything here."

"I could- totally beat you at probably at least one of these games!"

"Ohhh you're so on!" You scoff. The two of you spend hours playing every competitive game in the arcade. Steven manages to beat you at a number of them and you beat him at several too but you both lose track of the score at some point and just enjoy whatever games look the most interesting even if you both suck at them, which happens a few times too. By the time you leave, the sun has set entirely and you find a small shop down the street for food. Fish and chips for you and luckily for Steven there were several vegan options for him to choose from. You spend another hour or so talking to Steven and Marc while you eat and honestly, the whole night is one of your best first dates ever.

Jake wasn't so eager to get involved with you. In fact, for the first few months of your relationship with them, he hardly spoke to you. You don't take it personally, Marc and Steven tell you all the time that he's just not that friendly so, while you make sure it's clear the door's always open to him, you don't bother pushing him to talk to you. You brought Steven a snack at work today and hung around til the museum closed so now you're walking back with him as he tells you about the newest exhibit there. It's so nice listening to him talk about things he enjoys, the sun is slowly disappearing in the sky and stars are starting to blink to life as you enjoy the late summer evening together.

Steven stops suddenly and his grip on your hand tightens halting you with him. Your eyebrows knit together as turn to look at him only to see a pensive frown on his face as his eyes dart around the street.

"What's going on?" You ask. He pivots quickly and yanks you behind him just before three masked men appear seemingly out of the shadows.

"Stay behind me. I'll protect you." Steven says gruffly. Except, that didn't sound like Steven.

"Jake?" You frown.

"Sí. Don't worry."

"I'm- not worried. I can hold my own pretty well you know. I'm not a damsel in need of-"

"Princessa." Jake cuts you off sharply, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Lo sé, I know, but this is not your fight and I will not let you get hurt." Jake says.

"Jake-"

"Whatever sassy remark I'm sure you're about to say please save it for later. Right now? Bigger fish." He says.

"Fine." You concede, stepping back a little so Jake has room to fight. The masked assailants standoff with Jake for what feels like several minutes. It couldn't have been more than 90 seconds but it felt like much longer. The one on the right strikes first, leaping towards Jake with a dagger which seems to signal the others to launch at them too. Despite being outnumbered 3:1, Jake is holding his own pretty well against them for the most part. He disarmed the one with the dagger rather quickly and now it's just hand to hand. Even when they manage to get the jump on him it never lasts long, you're rather impressed by Jake's fighting. It seems like this will be over pretty soon, or rather it did, but then you notice one of the guys reach for the discarded dagger. Jake is distracted by the other two, you're not sure if you should yell or intervene but you have to do something. It's too late to yell, he won't have enough time to reach. You shoot your arm out and the blade slips from his hand and into yours. This turns his attention to you and he runs at you after a moment of confusion. You barely manage to sidestep him and he goes crashing into a lamppost though that doesn't manage to slow him down much. He charges again like an angry bull.

"Princessa!" Jake yells somehow still worried about you despite fighting off two people on his own.

"I got it, Jake!" You call back elbowing the guy in the nose as he comes at you. The guy grabs his nose for a moment but quickly focuses back on you, throwing a punch that you dodge but he uses your movement to grab your arm that's still holding his dagger. While trying to disarm you the weapon slashes your side and you have to grit your teeth as you wrench yourself free.

"Aw man I liked this shirt." You mutter. You've officially had enough of this. With a flick of your wrist, you effectively freeze your assailants in place.

"Dios mío." Jake breathes out, stumbling when he realizes the fight has stopped.

"Sorry! I should've warned you I was gonna do that. This guy ruined my shirt so- I'm not having fun anymore."

"You were having fun?"

"I mean- as much fun as you can have while fighting. I was winning so, wasn't too bad but then he ruined my shirt."

"You're hurt." Jake frowns.

"It'll heal. Do you want me to wipe their memories or I can just leave them here for a few hours? Although they'd probably come looking for us again if I did that."

"You can just wipe their memories?"

"Yes." You nod.

"And you could do this the whole time?"

"Yes." You nod.

"What are you?" Jake asks.

"A telepath mostly. Did Steven and Marc not tell you that? Steven like almost stopped talking to me when he found out."

"Steven almost stopped talking to you because of this?!"

"Well not-"

"Sorry, give me one second." Jake spins around and finds the nearest reflective surface, a window of a closed store next to you both. "Hermano. You almost stopped talking to her because she's?! Do you not realize that makes her the coolest person you've ever met?! Why would you stop talking to her?!" Jake practically yells at the reflection. You chuckle a little at the one-sided conversation. You're tempted to find out what Steven's response is but you won't pry. It's surprising to hear Jake jump to your defense considering how little he talks to you. "That's so stupid! You are very lucky Marc was nosy enough to get involved and save you from yourself! ... No Marc you were being nosy you didn't even know the girl at the time ... I'm not saying that I'm just saying she was Steven's interest first. It's fine that you like her now but it's not like you were looking out for your own interests when you got involved, you were helping Steven... This isn't about me!?" 

You knock on the window next to Jake's reflection and he jolts back, turning to look at you with a confused frown.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt your squabble but can we start heading back to the building? Also, what do I do with the guys?"

"Lo siento, we'll take you home. And you can wipe their memories." Jake says.

"Cool." You nod. You wipe the minds of the attackers, erasing yourself and Jake from their brains entirely and you watch as they try to shake the disorientation of a memory wipe.

"That is incredible." Jake says with mild surprise, reaching a hand behind your back to guide you in the direction of your apartment building.

"You know, this is the most you've ever spoken to me." You point out.

"That is true." He nods.

"But you wanted to protect me tonight."

"You are Steven's girlfriend. Even if I do not talk to you, I will protect you because it protects Steven." He shrugs.

"That's- very noble of you I guess." You say. There's a moment of silence that passes between you before Jake offers a reply.

"It is selfish."

"Selfish? How?"

"Estoy demasiado nervioso para hablar con tú, pero presto suficiente atención para saber que he empezado a cuidar de tú." He sighs.

"I don't speak Spanish." You shake your head.

"I know." He smiles.

"But how will I know what you're saying?"

"He likes to be vague." You notice immediately the change of voice.

"Marc!"

"He likes you. He doesn't want to admit it but he likes you."

"Oh!" You blink, a smile slowly spreading across your face. "That's very cute. I like him too. He should come around more." You say. And come around more he did. It was gradual at first but soon you were seeing Jake as often and Marc and Steven. You won't pretend it's always straightforward considering the three are very different personalities but you like to think you're all navigating it well. Even though sometimes you need a little help from your abilities.

***

Tagged Users: @itsmskeisha @auntiegigi @neteyamsluvts

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Sabo Winter Picnic

🎩Sabo🎩

Word Count:929

Sabo frowned as sat in the kitchen preparing everything for a small panic he planned. He read about winter picnics in a book the other when looking for romantic date ideas. He thought of his lover who was getting bored being cooped inside. He had been worried about her health and mental state. He read once in a book that a weak mental state meant poor health.

He had worried about her, as he looked up great ideas to do for winter dates. He found out about a winter picnic, sitting outside during a cold day surrounded by forest and with a thick blanket on the snow with both of them enjoying a warm meal and hot cocoa. He sighed as he cooked some fresh warm curry perfect for the date. The hot chocolate was already in a thermostat and in the picnic basket. He grabbed and placed the curry in another thermostat.

Looking over his list and at the picnic basket, it felt too empty he was missing something or a few things. He had the thick blanket, he had the food and utensils, the drink, and winter flowers as the middle piece. He frowned as he glanced over the book reading over and figured he would grab some pillows so they could sit on and enjoy the cold weather and view. Placing everything near the door he went to call his girlfriend.

He found her wrapped around a bunch of blankets, a book in her hand. Her eyebrows furred together when she got to the dramatic part of the book. He leaned on the frame and watched her expression change from anger to laughter. He admitted one of his hobbies was watching her read, all the expressions she made while reading made it enjoyable.

He cleared his throat catching her attention. She turned to him, seeing the faint little blush on her face, he couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit at her surprised expression which turned into slight annoyance. He must have interrupted a good part in her reading.

“Hey, do you want to go on a picnic?” he questioned, tilting his head, a blond bang falling over his eyes. His gloved hand ran through his hair putting it back in place.

“A picnic?” she titled her head, watching the snow fall gently. “It is cold and snowing,” she pointed out.

“I know but I think it would be fun to cuddle under the blanket watching the snow,” he answered her seductively.

She could feel her heart hammer in her chest at the comment, Sabo at times had a way of being smooth with words at times.

Getting dressed she followed him outside; he held out his hand wanting to hold her hand as they shuffled through the snow. It was cold, the cold breeze nipped at her nose, and the wind stung her cheek a bit, she shivered a bit having him push her closer wrapping his arms around her shoulder. Thanks to the devil fruit he eliminated warmth.

“So where are we going?” she finally questioned after five minutes of walking. A few landmarks looked familiar even while snow glittered under the sun.

Sabo paused as realization slowly hit him, he didn’t plan for the setting. The perfect setting where they could huddle up together enjoy their curry and later drink hot cocoa. He paused, they had been wandering aimlessly heading towards the flower field, their usual picnic spot. It was covered with her favorite type of field flowers, but with the snow, it would be buried.

She laughed watching her boyfriend trying to figure out where to take them next. That is one thing she loved about Sabo, he could be smooth one minute and perfectly plan something but then be clumsy the next. He seemed to forget one important detail about a winter picnic. He blushed as embarrassment set in, he couldn’t figure out how he messed up this bad.

“I am sorry,” he said, “I wanted to create the perfect date for you and messed up pretty badly,” he scratched the back of his head just happy to her hear laughter after so long.

“Why?” she questioned, tilting her head. She was enjoying being inside with him during the cold winter days, reading books with him, watching movies, and cuddling. There had been a few depressing days, and she was feeling claustrophobic, missing the adventures of the sea in the grand line but that was normal.

“You have been down lately,” he looked away titling his head embarrassed. She could see his ears turn a soft shade of pink.

“But you have been around, and we had lots of fun,” she said, watching his ears turn red. She tugged on his arms, “I think I know the perfect place to have a picnic,” It was a place she would go to when she needed a break or be alone.

He followed her steps, their steps crunching in the hard snow till they reached a cliff near the sea overlooking the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, everything around them glittered. The snow around them looked like fairy dust, while the ocean glittered like gold.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she questioned staring at the ocean.

Sabo stared at her and smiled, “yeah it is,”  

She glanced away feeling her cheeks heat up before helping him set up the picnic and he started a fire for them. “Sabo, you only brought one blanket,” she pouted.

“I know on purpose,” he took a seat on one of the pillows and patted the pillow next to them, “So we can cuddle,”

[evangelineshifts]

TINY THINGS

Pairings: Atlas Baudelaire (OC) X Reader (?)

WC: 0.5k

Warnings: swearing, OC x OC kinda?, poetic rambling

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent as it’s literally a scenario for my desired reality so keep that in mind. If you want some back story visit my dr list on my pinned post! feel free to like and reblog! love ya!

“Thought I’d find you cooped up in here,” He murmurs as he curls up next to me on the couch. 

I groan as I try to turn away from him in an attempt to ignore the fact that I’d been found out. My family was hosting thanksgiving this year, and like every year, my social battery ran out far quicker than anyone could’ve hoped. I snuck off as soon as I was able, sure that everyone was too preoccupied to come looking for me. I forgot to take my lovely boyfriend into account when making my getaway; 

Atlas Baudelaire would always look for me.

“You hungry?” He whispers into the side of my head, pecking sweet kisses to my temple.

“I'm tired, Atlas,” I whine, turning and burying my face into his chest. He’s warm and smells of cinnamon and apple cider. I hate apple cider so it’s a wonder why I’m trying to drink him in like he’s my favorite beverage in the world. My own personal ambrosia,

“I know” he drawls, mocking my, admittedly, childish complaints. “But you do have to eat, baby”

“And I will! After the socialites go home and us common folk take back the estate” I say, sitting up with a dramatic huff. 

“That’s your family, fucking dork,” he snorts, not moving from his laid back position, only now he’s playing with the ends of my hair.

“Irrelevant,”

We sit in comfortable silence for a long moment. I’d always heard of that, comfortable silences I mean, in books, in constructed stories made to elicit feelings of hope in people; hope that we could find a connection out in the world where words aren’t necessary. Even breathes and their company will do. I thought I’d already experienced that in my life, with my friends and family, and I suppose I have just nothing quite like this. With him it’s like I can hear what he’s saying in each quiet sigh he let’s out, I can feel the words he’s trying to spell out in each twirl of my hair like he’s created a new version of cursive. No pens and papers needed, only his hands and my very being, the letters write themselves. He carves ancient runes into my skin and it never hurts, I believe it never will. And if i’m wrong then it’ll be the purest act of innocence i’ve ever committed because the stories i’ve seen left behind in bones were nothing short of fine art. 

All that is to say; I really fucking love my boyfriend. (I’m a waxing poetic, put me in cuffs)

“You want to take a nap with me?” I ask, turning to look at him only to find his gaze already fixed on me. I’d be creeped out if he wasn’t so fine.

“Thought you’d never ask, sweetness,” He says with a smirk, already moving to grab the blanket I had been using earlier.

“Why the fuck did you just call me that?” I ask amused, shuffling around to get comfortable. 

“Trying something new, I don’t know,” He shrugs, not embarrassed in the slightest. He slips his arm under my head and wraps it around my shoulders, holding me in a loose chokehold. Gods, I love him. I should bite his biceps… Later.

“How ‘bout we save the experimenting for another day, casanova,” 

“Whatever you say, sweet girl,” 

✧ Dividers by ; @cafekitsune

[distressednoise]

WIP wednesday

Back on my bullshit (sad brassian in under-described liminal spaces) and actually have a WIP on WIP wednesday for the first time in ::checks calendar:: we do not speak of it.

In which Cassian hits a snag on the way home from Mimban, but luckily Brasso has terrible taste in men.

The code sending the comm belongs to Pellan, a hook up from months ago; a Pre-mor flunkie on a stopover between outposts, half out of uniform when he met Brasso and keen to lose the rest.

The face when he opens it, though, is a stretched-out, scruffed-up version of - “Cassian?”

“Yes! I fucking told you.” This is to someone off screen, presumably Pellan, and in a voice several tones lower than Brasso expected. In profile, Cassian's face is sharper and grubbier than it first seemed, and framed by an embarrassing set of adolescent mutton chops that dream of one day becoming a beard. It'd been Brasso's situation, the last time they saw each other. Maarva has a holo of them from that time, and looking at himself in it makes Brasso feel old.

“Do you know this person?” Pellan asks, shouldering his way on screen.

He doesn't know Pellan that well. He can't tell where they are from the background of the holo: it's just their faces and a patch of suspiciously sterile patch of wall.

“He does! Brasso, you know me and you know how sick my mother is -”

“Stop talking.” Pellan's tone isn't mean enough to raise Brasso's hackles. It's the tone he remembers everyone taking around - fucking hell, Cassian - back when he was mouthy and undersized and keen to bite the underbelly of every bigger kid on the block. “Just. Sit down again. Brasso -” 

There's some shuffling and a floating shot of Pellan's jaw as he takes himself and his comm out of Cassian’s considerable range of interference. It has the same mutinous set Brasso remembers from the bar.

“We have a slight situation here, and I do not want it to end up as a full situation, because in full situations I fill out sixteen different scandocs and people with ‘sector’ in their job title learn my name. Your friend is trying to get through the corporate border on a military pass, which is legal but -” a tired grimace “- against company policy, so I'm supposed to tell him it's faulty and he has seven days to fix it, after which I can bust him for loitering if he doesn't find a new chip or falsifying access information if he does, and he'll go to Imperial custody and toward my arrest number, or he can lodge an appeal under the long term residency exemption, which will automatically be approved but he'll be on an undisclosed Imperial watchlist for five years and someone will have to file a report on his movements every forty five days, and that someone will not be me, but that someone will unlock a cross team performance incentive if they achieve a ten per cent uplift on watchlist detentions cycle on cycle, so good luck with that. And then of course you're a named associate of a detained watch listed individual, so you go on the list, and someone reports on you every forty five days, and you also count toward our detention uplift target for the quarter, so.” 

There's a pause for Brasso to react. When he doesn't, Pellan feels compelled to add, “That's bad.”

“Right.” It was almost definitely the wrong call to answer this comm before getting dressed. 

“Right! So I suggested maybe he'd had his scandocs stolen and I could issue him a temporary pass if he just had a few key details, but they were issued when he was in prison - I should not have heard that he was in prison, Brasso, that's 101 - and he's never seen them, so he doesn't know the most basic things -”

“His mother will have -”

“His mother is apparently deathly ill and cannot possibly get on a shuttle to bring him anything, which would be terrible if it were true. My sympathies to that woman, in potentia. However, because he is technically an unaccompanied minor for the next, uh, seventeen hours, I can notarise an individual known to the family to collect him and produce a copy of his stolen documents on her behalf. So this is me officially notarising you, and also letting you know that if you take seventeen hours to get here I'm going to strangle him.”

Brasso has several questions about an unaccompanied minor being on a military pass and that not being a flag unto itself, but at least he knows how old Cassian is now. “Where are you?”

“Gate B, so like, two moons from you? Hey, should have called more, sorry neighbour. But seriously, whatever operation you're running needs to tighten up because ‘prison’, pri-son, is an extremely automated red flag and if I had bothered to do any basic system maintenance in the last six months there would be a half dozen alerts on their way to Pre-Mor by now.”

Operation, Brasso mouths, dully. He's starting to think he and Pellan remember that night very differently.

[madaboutmunson]

Again - Part 7

Part 1 | Part  6 | Part 8 | Full list of Again series links inc AO3 Link

Steddie fic where Steve and Eddie are in their mid 30's and everyone has sort of drifted apart

Taglist: @adaed5 @grtwdsmwhr @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mightbeasleep

================================================

Beans' nose firmly presses against the bedroom window that looks outside, condensation disappearing and reappearing around it as Steve changes into what he has deemed appropriate sportswear to not embarrass his daughter. A pair of simple black sweatpants, a plain simple tee to match, and his old favourite sneakers. He checks himself over in the mirror one last time, running a hand over the now lesser-toned areas of his body before he's quickly wrenched out of his thoughts by a sharp bark from the dog. It hadn't been an especially good night’s sleep, so the zoning out had happened a few times already this morning.

"Thanks, Beanie-baby! What would I do without you?" He says, baby-talking to the giant clump of black fur, currently beating a new dent into the chest of drawers with its tail, as she eyes him happily, tongue hanging out. Once she asserts Steve is ok, she turns back to the window. Her nose squeaks against it, and her tongue goes back into her mouth with seriousness. Business-mode Beans. Steve laughs, "Jelly-beans! Don't worry, ok? They're gonna love you" By the commotion in the house, it would have been easy for the dog to sense someone new might be visiting, so her reaction wasn't unfounded, and Steve wondered if half of his affirmation was for himself. He was nervous, though he had every reason not to be.

When Eddie had called, Steve hadn't read the name first. Instead, he'd answered it immediately, as usual, thinking it was kid-related because the only other people with his cell number were Jenny and the kids.

"Everything ok?!" he said urgently, already half out of his chair, motioning to grab his car keys as he heard a squeak on the other end of the phone.

"Jesus Christ, Steve! Whatever happened to Hello?" Came a heavy breathing voice of panic, and finally, Steve took a calming breath and sat back down.

"Oh! Eddie? Sorry, I just-" Steve started apologising, but Eddie cut him off.

"Just hang on a second, Steve. I'm just trying to get a grip on my soul that successfully left my being when you answered" Steve could hear the words were doused in sarcasm at his expense, but he smiled anyway. 

"Ok, ok. Deserved. Sorry, Eddie, I didn't mean to scare you. Hello." Steve tries in a much calmer, softer tone.

"Now that's more like how we humans do it. Hello. I wasn't scared, by the way," Steve could hear the smile in Eddie's voice, and it made him shuffle back into the sofa cushions a little more, where he decided to try his own brand of teasing.

"You sure? You sounded pretty terrified, to be honest," Steve asks, in his best pretending to be concerned voice.

"No, I didn't! Did I?" Eddie played along, starting with an air of defiance before slipping into something that sounded like it had an accompanying pout. The thought of which sent Steve's brain into some sort of frenzy and accidentally triggered his humour centre.

"Yeah, you did. I haven't heard a scream that high-pitched since I went to a Backstreet Boys concert." Steve managed to get the sentence out through a huge grin and repressed laughter

"Ok, maybe you're right, but you know what I didn't do?" Eddie conceded before tagging on the question in a lower register.

"What's that?" Steve says, finally composing himself with a sigh.

"Out myself as fucking Backstreet Boys fan!" Eddie shouts down the phone. Steve can almost see him turning to stare wildly at his handset as he did so before moving it back to his ear to unleash a maniacal string of cackles. Steve could have let it go, but he enjoyed this little back-and-forth too much, so he played defensively.

"Ok, first of all, it was for Zee when she was younger. Do not tell her I told you that; definitely do not tell Morgan that. Secondly, it was alright. They had nice sweaters for one song." 

"Sweaters?!" Is all Steve hears from Eddie before the cackles start again, and there is a thud, which Steve can only imagine is him losing his grip on the phone. In hindsight, Steve could have played at being more insulted, but he just had the biggest smile on his face hearing Eddie laugh like that.

Then there was some rustling, and he could hear Eddie trying to stop laughing before his voice finally returned to the conversation. "Ok, ok. Jesus, I think I've ruptured something laughing so hard. Anyway, how about Wednesday for basketball? We're free all day, so whatever time suits you all best."

"Well, for me, I like training in the m-" Steve started to think out loud before a whine travelled right into his ear.

"Don't say that evil word to me, Steve, please. I don't like waking myself up at that time, never mind trying to rouse the teenbeast," Eddie pleaded for an ounce of clemency which Steve couldn't possibly resist giving.

"Oh yeah, you're right. Better make it afternoon, and you know what, that is perfect because we can have dinner later if you wanna stay for it?" Steve realised his voice had gone up several pep levels to his old organising playdates or the bake sale roles tone.

"Dinner after? Hold on a sec…." Steve heard a rustle over the line again and heard muttering that must have been Morgan, and then Eddie cleared his throat "yeah, that sounds great. We'll bring dessert. Any allergies or preferences?'

"Nope, you're good. What about you both?" Steve says quickly.

"Morgan is good, me…allergies include hard work, ballads, fully intact jeans, preferences oh wow, um, let's see… tall, nice legs, nice ass, a glorious- Ow! One second, sorry, Steve'' Again, what sounds like the receiver being covered, but this time extra rustling and a hiss.

"Everything alright, Eddie?" Steve asked, a little worried.

"Yeah, it's fine, just a pest buzzing around", Eddie chuckled.

"So Wednesday afternoon, then?" Steve double-checked to make sure he didn't get anything wrong, face the wrath of Zee, or worse, mess it all up for everyone by getting the day or time wrong.

"Yeah, just one more thing," Eddie said thoughtfully.

"What's that?"

"Do you think it's gonna be cold on Wednesday?"

"I mean, it's summer, Eddie. I doubt it. Why?" 

"Just wondering if I should bring a nice sweater."

"Oh fu-fudge off, Eddie" Steve ended the call with the sound of Eddie's cackles but with his own big smile as he shook his head. Only to feel a presence in the doorway, and his eyes darted towards it. It was Corey, tilting his head, his brow wrinkled but a confused smile on his face. Steve had thought he would almost get a conversation that day, but Corey had simply shrugged, grabbed the TV remote, and flopped down on the other sofa.

And now it was finally Wednesday, and Steve, just like Beans, should have nothing to worry about. It was his turf, his special interest, surrounded by all his comforts and everyday life. Maybe that's what was so scary? Letting people in like this, into all your stuff. What if they notice something you thought you'd papered over just fine, or they find their way into parts of the house you didn't want them to go and wanted them to stay in the areas for visitors? Steve didn't feel like he had much in the way of secrets or even had anything to hide. He had just grown used to not having other people in his home. No, that wasn't right. He's had plenty of parent gatherings and kids' parties here. He sits on the window seat next to beans to look out the huge bay window. It was because it was someone that knew him before, someone who noticed things, maybe noticed too much? 

He runs his hand over Beans' huge shaggy black fur, the repeating motion a comfort for both of them, "We'll be ok, Beans", he says softly, and the dog drops out of business mode, making a little high whistle noise and tilting her head at him. "You know, I think you're really gonna like them. One is a giant child. The other is…also a giant child" Steve laughs at his realisation, and Beans licks up the side of his face as her tail beats another seven hells out of the furniture. He ruffles her fur once more and gets to his feet. "Let's go check in with the kids and dinner. Maybe they'll even be some roast beef that accidentally falls into my hand when I check the food, hmmm?" At the word beef, the window might as well have disappeared because she circles Steve once and sits down with a thud, keeping perfect posture awaiting the next instruction, "Corey", he says simply. Beans runs top speed out of the bedroom and down the hall, causing waves in the hallway rug as she bounds down it, and sits herself outside a door at the other end of the hall, and he's about to follow her when he hears a shriek from upstairs, "DAAAAAAAD!!!"

Steve's leisurely pace down the hall is halted; he spins on his heel, and before he can make any decisions, he is taking the narrow winding staircase up, several at a time. He shoulder barges through the door to Mackenzie's room, dropped in a low stance of action, desperately trying to catch his breath as he frantically searches the room for his daughter and any interdimensional hell beasts or government agents. Armed with the only thing in reach as he rounded the staircase, a bound bunch of bamboo canes that were holding up some fairy lights that had now been ripped asunder. Finally, his eyes land on his daughter, whose tear-stained face slowly turns towards him, and he quickly tries to compute what's happened, which doesn't take long when she offers up her other hand to his eye line. It's holding a curling tong, in which is a single small section of hair that is no longer attached to Morgan's head. It's only then he smells the burning.

He drops the bamboo, rushes over to her, encapsulating her hiccuping face in his hands, and drops to his knees, frantically checking her over. "Oh, my god. Oh my god. Are you hurt? Lemme see, angel." He can see the roasted section of hair, but thankfully the breaking point seems some way down the length. By the grace of something out there, there are no burns on her head, face or hands. Once his assessment is done, and he can confirm she is just upset about the hair tragedy, he engulfs her in a big hug. It was to comfort Zee but also gave him a chance to steady his breathing. Steve eyes the offending curling tong and glares at it as if he had El's powers and could make it crumple in on itself with his mind. Unfortunately, he does not, but he has plans for that fucking thing, big plans!

He gently pulls away from Zee and checks her face, wiping her tears, "Hey honey", he soothes gently, "You ok? Big deep breaths, ok?" As she is still slightly hiccuping, an adorable feature of her saddest moments, he thinks. She nods minimally, and he knows though she isn't alright, she isn't spiralling any more. "Ok, you wanna tell me what happened?" She goes to turn to the mirror, and he turns her face back to him softly. "Eyes on me. Tell me, and together we'll figure it out, like always, ok?" She nods solemnly at the ground and starts speaking.

"So I woke up this morning and discovered mother nature had left me my monthly gift. After dealing with all that, I felt so down in the dumps I wanted to do something fun, maybe look cute today or something." A worried glance flicks up from her to Steve. Still, he just nods encouragingly for her to continue. "So I found this out of the cupboard, you know, that has some of Mom's old things in. I was doing ok, but I must have put on too much of something, and my hair got stuck. Then I could smell burning, and- and then" He can hear her voice start to crack again, so he squeezes her with his arm that is still around her, and it seems to work. "well, you saw what happened", her eyes shoot up to his, the shape is different but, they share the same pool of colour in their eyes. Steve had never admired the colour of his eyes until Mackenzie was born. Then, of course, whenever he looked into the mirror after that, that's all they reminded him of. "What am I gonna do, Daddy?" She says with a slump of her shoulders, and Steve had thought the days of that word were over. He was just Dad now. But that word, Daddy, from his kid, made him want to rush straight into whatever battle she wanted to point him at. A surge of protectiveness that only Bruce Banner morphing into The Hulk could have ever experienced courses through Steve.

"May I?" He says, lifting one hand towards the crispy-ended piece of hair still attached to her head. She nods, and he takes it in his fingers and pretends to burn them, "Oooh, hot stuff", he says, earning him a little eye roll and huff of a laugh. "Ok, I'm more than happy to call Eddie and cancel and take you to your chosen hair salon. They'll sort this all out."

She grips his arm with her hand, "No, please. Don't cancel. That would make the day even worse if I had to miss out on that too."

"Hmmm, ok then. Here's what I think. You tell me if you agree or not," They both make a singular nod at one another, "So I think, if we swap your parting over to the other side, we could hide it just fine. I can trim off the burnt part, then you wash your hair to eliminate the smell, and I'll help you with it if you like? If you're worried, we could even braid it to hide it a little more. Like Viking shield maiden hair?" He suggests with a smile before screwing up his face and throwing up the devil horns on his hands, growling, "Very metal!" making her tear-stained face erupt with that big smile, and the laughter spills out.

"Please don't ever do that again," She says between laughs, and Steve is comforted that she's back to her old self. He is so proud of her, "That sounds like a great idea, Dad."

Steve trims carefully at the hair and feels over it with his fingers ensuring only the non-crispy parts remain, and Zee leaves him to get ready for the second time today. Steve collects the offending hair-styling contraption, "I'll be back in twenty minutes, ok, Zee?" He yells in the direction of her bathroom and heads downstairs, puts on a saucepan of milk to warm up for a hot chocolate, checks the beef and veg, carves off a little meat for himself and Beans, and then walks out to the garage and shuts the door behind him.

He puts the curling tongs down onto the workbench purposefully. Then he puts on his safety glasses and gloves before selecting a medium-sized hammer, takes a deep breath, and beats the ever-loving Christ out of the fucking thing until it is just a heavily dented form of what it used to be. He then puts everything back exactly where it should go, takes up the remnants of the curling tongs, and dumps them in the trash with vigour before going back inside and recommencing making hot chocolate. "Hey, Cor! You want a hot chocolate, buddy?" He yells up the stairs.

"It's August!!!" Corey yells as he thunders down the stairs, Beans at his heels, dressed in his basketball kit, which often made Steve concerned about why when he was at school, the shorts were so short because clearly they could be made to be much longer and more comfortable. He got dates aplenty that way, but it still made him concerned.

"You haven't gotta have one, just making one for Zee and me and thought I'd extend the kindness to you also, your Lordship", Steve teases. 

Corey assesses the situation and asks, "Will there be any of those little marshmallows?" Steve opens the cupboard and checks, "They are indeed a possibility….for a price."

"Aren't I already doing the most today? I could be at Joel's, you know!"

"But ask yourself this: does Joel have access and ownership to a sack of mini marshmallows or a succulent roast beef dinner with all the trimmings?"

"No! But he does have Pizza pockets and a new wrestling game on the PlayStation," Corey says, hopping up on the counter and making Steve frown.

"There is a stool right there, next to your leg, you know."

"I know", Corey answers with his Mom's cheeky mega-watt smile as he swings his legs, making no effort to move to the stool, "So the price is?" Corey enquires, edging his way towards the bag of mini mallows.

"I mean, it's nothing, really. Just a conversation with your old man." Steve says innocently, earning an eye roll from his Son, who Steve had thought he had at least five more years of avoiding this kind of reaction from, but they just grew up so quickly these days.

"Alright then, but the whole top of the mug has gotta be like all mallows. Deal?" Corey spits in his hand and extends it to Steve, who grimaces and shakes his head.

"Wow! glad to see all that money in your education isn't going to waste. You're good on the handshake. Deal," Steve says, finally spooning in the cocoa. "So today-"

"I go out there to run rings around Ken's Barbie boy for thirty mins, help you out, come back in here, eat my dinner without complaint, be nice, and then I can go to my room. I believe that is everything?" Corey says, his fingertips walking into the opening of the mini mallows bag.

"Don't call her that, Cor. You know she hates it. Also, today is not the day to test her, ok? Just save all your little sibling remarks up for maybe, I dunno, five days from now?" Steve says, opening the cupboard and reaching behind the aesthetically pleasing identical colour cups, for a Pokémon mug, World's most amazing daughter, and an ancient mug with two small hand prints and 'Dad' painted on it. There is a crinkle of the bag, but by the time Steve turns around, his son looks very much like a hamster at feeding time. He sighs in defeat at the innocent, full-cheeked, mallow-decorated toothy grin he gets in return.

"Also, we're trying to help Morgan, ok? So we'll see what he's like out there before we run him into the ground, and no barging into him just because he's tall, ok? Basketball is not pro wrestling! It's a sport with finesse, structure, and tactics."

"Is your boyfriend coming too?" Corey asks with mischief. Steve spills a little of the steaming hot cocoa on his hand and masks a sharp breath, making Corey laugh, "Wow, just wow, Dad, really. You’d never make a spy."

"For your information. I do not have a boyfriend, but if I did or a girlfriend, that would be just fine and nothing to be embarrassed about. Also, I’d make a fantastic spy for your information." Steve says, grabbing the bag of mallows away from his son, only to be met with a full eyebrow raise.

"I'm eight, not blind. I saw you on the phone the other day. Giggling. Adults think they're so sly, but you're not. You're really very, very obvious. Painfully so." Corey says, folding his arms, "I've seen it all before."

"Where have you seen anything like that before, Professor Corey? Hmmm?" Steve says, pouring the mallows onto the cocoa and adding some whipped cream to Mackenzie's.

"Hey!! No fair"

"You said all mallows. You got all mallows!" Steve says finally.

"I saw it with Mom, with Val, and now you with the mega nerd" ah yes, Valentino Steve had initially suspected this was a nickname, but it turned out to be his real name. Not only that, but he lived up to his old Hollywood namesake too. Val might have been the most romantic guy Steve had ever witnessed. Not a day went by where he didn't shower Jenny with affection in words or actions, not two years ago and not now. She was head over heels for him, and Val worshipped the ground she walked on. Steve guessed he should be a little jealous, but he couldn't be. It was too hard to be jealous when someone you spent eleven years with was so happy finally when you'd seen them at their lowest and struggling. He was great with the kids, too. He never once trod on Steve's toes in the parenting aspect.

"Steven, I love Jenny, and I will protect your children like they were my blood with my life when you aren't around, but I accept they are not my children. I don't need to parent them. They have parents." he'd said when Steve had attempted to give him a shovel talk, but it was honestly deeply in vain because he was very charming…and handsome. Not the most charming or handsome guy Steve had ever met, but he was definitely on the list. Besides, there was no way this guy would do anything to make Jenny even raise an eyebrow with concern. He remembered going to pick the kids up once, finding him in tears outside. Valentino had been beside himself, running up the drive when he arrived, grabbing him by the shoulders, "Steven. Something terrible has happened. Jenny is losing her mind. You must do something, please" Steve ran into the house, concerned, only to find Jenny sitting, organising her diary quite happily. After much prying, it turned out Jenny had made an offhand comment about the fact she had put on a little weight and didn't feel as beautiful as she did when she was younger. Steve then had to spend an extra thirty minutes talking around Valentino.

"How exactly do you get away with calling anyone a mega nerd? You are part Gameboy at this point. Mr Roboto," Steve laughs and does a robot dance handing over the hot chocolate to Corey, who is already shaking his head.

"An' zis snooty little attitude is why we don't speak pa-pa," Corey says in a french accent, "Allez 'arico!" He says, hopping back down from the counter and Beans following him at his heel.

Steve heads upstairs with the two cocoa and almost forgets to pause at Zee's door. He knocks gently with his knuckle, "Honey, I got you some hot chocolate, and I can help with the braids if you want?"

"Come in!" She chirps, and her tone makes Steve's heart sing. Steve hands Zee her drink as she sits on the chair before her vanity, looking much happier than when he left her. Then, he picks up the wide tooth comb and gets to work on her hair.

"Feeling a little better?" He half smiles at her in the mirror, and she mirrors it with a nod, and honestly, Steve can't believe his luck, "It doesn't matter what happens. We will always find a way through it, ok honey?" He says gently before dropping into a voice he's picked up from MTV, "That's just how we do at Chez Harrington!" And the grateful grimace on Zee's face makes him laugh, "Well, alright then, maybe not that…Did you find anything in the music that you liked?" He smiles, splitting a section of hair into its soon-to-be braided counterparts.

"Um…yeah…about that…when is the last time you went through your records?" She says with a smirk taking a sip of her cocoa and getting a little blob of whipped cream on the tip of her button nose.

"Hmmm", Steve ties off one of the braids that runs along the side of Zee's head ", I listen to the CDs sometimes in the car."

"No, Dad, the records, the vinyl ones" She looks at him expectantly in the mirror as he makes a matching braid on the other side of her head.

"Oh, um, gosh, I don't know, probably not since I moved in with your mom, honestly. They were in grandma and grandpa's attic for a few years whilst we were finding our feet. Then they probably went straight into the attic here because I had a more extensive cassette collection by then. So maybe 1987," he says thoughtfully whilst making a false pompadour at the front of her hair with a twist, push and pin before gathering everything up into a high ponytail, "That look ok to you, honey? Not too much volume?" He asks, gently running some styling gel on his fingers and over the flyaways poking out of the braids.

"No, that's perfect, thank you, Dad" she smiles warmly at him in the mirror after looking it over in the mirror, "You can't even see it now" He puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes them and beams at her proudly in the mirror. He hoped she knew she didn't have to pretend everything was alright if she didn't feel that way, but he was also proud of her resilience.

"He'd be lucky to know you, however you looked, you know. I know you think I'm biased, and I am, but you're a great kid, and I count my blessings every day I get to be your Dad."  He says, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek that she playfully squirms away from, making them both laugh.

"What about Corey?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you count your blessings every day you're his Dad too?"

"Of course! Well, maybe not term time Monday mornings," he says with a wink, making them both chuckle, "If you're ok, I can finish off the dinner, so it's just keeping warm" She nods with a smile. As he gets to the door, she calls after him, "You know, Dad, you should really take a look through those records sometime. Plenty of hidden gems in them" Steve smiles and nods but is a little confused by the statement and can't help but wonder if Mackenzie is only talking about the music.

[adultalternative]

2022 Best of is finally here. I had like three-quarters of the list figured out pretty early on, but just had a general playlist where I added people before I listened to them to try to get more artists in at once. Turned out that was a bad idea.

Renaissance- First new Beyonce era I could appreciate live due to it instantly being on streaming. It is hard to write a real review for this album, because this is a going out album and I am still quarantining, and I primarily listen to my year end albums in a Free for All shuffle mode, but Beyonce still finds a way to surprise people 9 years after her self-titled album. My favorite songs are Break My Soul, All Up In Your Mind, Virgo’s Groove, and Thique.

Las Ruinas- Rico Nasty swung big and it paid off. Rock, G-Funk, drum and bass (amongst other genres) all make appearances on this album. People seemed to constantly mention that it was a mixtape, and you can tell, but so what? I liked the different sounds and Rico was able to stand on her own in each song without getting lost. Gotsta Get Paid, Intrusive, Into the Dark, Black Punk and Easy are my favorite songs.

Giving the World Away- Hatchie was able to make an ethereal baggy album. Another casualty of still quarantining, as this album was meant to be listened to on your way back from nights out in quirky outdoor downtown cafes in the spring. Shoegaze guitars make an appearance throughout this album, too. My favorite songs are Giving the World Away, Till We Run Out of Air, Don't Leave Me in the Rain, and This Enchanted.

Unsoothing Interior- Vero went from a cute EP to directly commanding first chair at a reality show reunion with this album. While usually, 90’s inspired albums are power pop/sunnier alternative rock and sometimes grunge, Vero dip into shoegaze and noise rock. If you primarily like Kim Gordon’s songs on Sonic Youth, then this album is for you. I like the songs Cupid, Sex, Me & TV Shows, and Beluga the most.

Sometimes, Forever- Embarrassed to say this, but this is the first Soccer Mommy album that totally got me. Her usual guitar only sound is balanced with sonic experiments like the jazzy Unholy Affliction. Also, her lyrics got to me more with songs like Don’t Ask Me and Feel it All the Time.

Nova Twins- Fun, angry and brashy. I like Cleopatra and Antagonist.

Bronco- Austin Butler wasn’t the only Elvis impressionist this year. Orville Peck sanded down his edges to make a more general country album, with unfortunately, less commercial pay off than there could have been. Bronco and Outta Time are still highlights.

Skinty Fia- Fontaines DC continue to excel at dark and brooding alternative rock music. Jackie Down the Line, In ár gCroíthe go deo, and I Love You are my highlights.

Strawberry- Dreamy alternative dance music. Patience etc… and Happy Happy are the highlights, but with such a concise project, just listen to all of it.

Stumpwork- I never would have thought that post punk would be a genre that I would fast track to my best of list, but here we are. Dry Cleaning continues to soundtrack rainy day Sundays with their detached, spoken word vocals with their expressive guitars. I like Anna Calls from the Arctic, Liberty Logs, and Kwendy Kups.

Lady for Sale- In a year with both crossover and alternative country releases, this release with a throwback sound drew my attention the most. While I was initially just drawn to Lola Kirke, the actress from underrated Mistress America, making a countrypolitan album as a Brit, I was soon surprised by how good (and accurate) it was. I like Pink Sky and Falling in Love Again.

Hypnos- Ravyn Lenae continues to be ahead of her peers at such a young age. A good take on psychedelic R&B. My favorite songs are Venom and Inside Out.

SQUEEZE- Very unique mishmash of heavier, noisy, alternative music, and more mellow singer-songwriter music. Now that I’m thinking about it, it sort of reminds me of To Bring You My Love. I enjoy the epicness of The Greatest and the sadness in Tried to Understand. 

SOS- Too late of a release (and not relevant enough in a quarantine lifestyle) for me to appreciate, but it did a good job at putting its foot in the door. I like Blind, Kill Bill, and Gone Girl.

Crash- Though Sucker and Charli could have been interpreted as pop compromise albums by some of the fans, this album definitely steals the title from either with no contest, but not in a bad way. I don’t really know how to describe this album, but it’s more Superlove and Doin’ It than Blame it On Your Love. Good Ones, Yuck, Lightning, and What You Think of Me are my favorite songs, although New Shapes is also good.

Coping Mechanism- Willow came back with an even rockier album. My favorite songs are Split, ur a stranger, and Maybe it’s my Fault.

Blue Rev- Alvvays went from a punchline for random indie bands with corny names to making a late in the year highlight for me out of nowhere. Great shoegaze in catchy pop formats for walks outside. I like Pharmacist, Easy On Your Own, and the Saint Etienne-esque Very Online Guy.

Traumazine- Megan thee Stallion had a rogue’s gallery that would be perfect for a 90’s kids action cartoon this year (Or the anime inspired visualizers for the songs on Youtube). Unfortunately, for her antagonists, you can’t keep Megan down. My favorite songs are Her, Anxiety, Red Wine, and Flip Flop.

American Gurl- Kilo Kish came back with a poppier version of her EPs. Good combination of poppy sheen and melodies but still experimental. My favorite songs are Death Fantasy, Choice Cowboy, and American Gurl. 

Froge.mp3- A drum and bass album that came out of nowhere but very catchy and fun. I like the songs Words and on and on.

Black Girl Magic- Honey Dijon provides us with more house bops after working with Beyonce for Renaissance. My favorite songs are Everybody and Downtown.

Finally, New- While They Hate Change's Finally, New is called experimental hip hop, for me the drum and bass made it more accessible and memorable. Some Days I Hate My Voice is my favorite song.

Us Ephemeral- Very coherent electronic album. A little Toonami and a little Telepopmusik. The title track is my favorite song.

Kaitlin Butts- Short sweet to the point country music with the right amount of sadness. What else can she do and bored if I don’t do a great job at capturing the melancholy of being bored in a rural area without being prepared for the bigger pond yet.

SRSQ-  Theatrical dream pop that makes me feel like I’m flying in the night. Used to Love, Saved for Summer, and Elan Vital are my favorites. It reminds me of Tamaryn but also Sky Ferreira.

Janky Star- I found Grace Ives too late in 2019 to include her in my best of (Or have her compete fairly), but Janky Star had a better chance this year. Grace makes cool music to dance to, good for either an imaginary pop up silent rave or by yourself in a kitchen while doing chores. Burn Bridges and Loose are my favorites.

[hashtagyorlosalfie]

RULES: when you get this, list 5 songs you've been listening to. tag 5-10 followers to do the same. I was tagged by @lisadoop.

I guess I'm the only person in the world who doesn't listen to the same songs over and over, so I don't really have that many I could list. But nonetheless, here's 5 songs that have been on my mind for various reasons.

1. Honey by AFTERxCLASS

Not super familiar with this artist outside of this one track, which I think is their most popular, but I love it, it's super catchy. Came up again on shuffle recently and I've been thinking about it a lot because I realized the part where they say "you're bitter as shit" is sung to like the exact same tune as the Danny Elfman Batman theme, I'm pretty sure. I almost want to do an edit lining it up to prove it, but it wouldn't be worth the effort just for that. I mean I had a few other ideas that could work to turn it into a YTP or something, but probably not enough.

2. Super Mario Land With Lyrics by brentalfloss ft. Dave Bulmer

I've been playing a lot of Mario games recently, including Super Mario Land for the first time, and I'm embarrassed to say I've listened to Super Mario Land With Lyrics enough times that it's all I can think of when I hear the world 1 music from that game. I'm not even super into brentalfloss or anything, I only know a handful of their tracks, but the few I know I know really well, just because I've had them in my library for so long and they've come up on shuffle so many times. I could probably recite the lyrics to both this and Ocarina of Time With Lyrics all the way through, maybe without even listening to the songs. I don't even like them that much! I think they're neat, but not enough to know them this well! I NEED HELP!!!

3. We're Not Candy! by Long Island Regional Poison Control Center

This very well may be stuck in your head too, since these videos keep getting recommended to everyone. Some may say it's kind of a meme right now. I wouldn't go that far, not enough different takes on it to say that. I was working on an edit where they say they actually are candy, but... FUCK! Someone beat me to it! Two days ago! God damn it, I've been working on mine for like a week or two, I'm just really lazy! This one isn't even good, it's like way too long, maybe I should still do mine. That's honestly the version that's stuck in my head right now, just those beginning lyrics but instead of saying like "We could make you delirious" they say "We could be delicious". Nobody else make this edit!! I call dibs!!!

4. Streets by Doja Cat

I just really like this song, I often find myself muttering the lyrics of this one out loud. Particularly the whole rap verse with the Final Fantasy line, love that. The way the lyrics flow into each other there makes it a big ear worm for me, even without hearing the music. Just really fun to recite.

5. Icy Tower Theme (NES/2A07) by Zlew

Just got done streaming some Icy Tower a little earlier, and damn I could groove to that kazoo menu music for hours. But I especially like this cover I found on Soundcloud. I think the cover art is like the second image search result for Icy Tower which is how I found it like a year ago and also how I rediscovered it earlier today. Just a really stellar chiptune take on Man of Constant Sorrow imo.

Okay that's it, I guess I'll tag @jerryterry, @norwayspruce, @object-at-noon, @talkingheadsfan, and @peenerpeenerihaveawiener. Sorry for the tag, the chainmail told me to and I don't wanna get cursed :/

[kutyozh]

[plain text ID: beginnings of real self-respect. Most of our platitudes notwithstanding, self-deception remains the most difficult deception. The charms that work on others count for nothing in that devastatingly well-lit back alley where on keeps assignations with oneself: no winning smiles will do here, no prettily drawn lists of good intentions. With the desperate agility of a crooked faro dealer who spots Bat Masterson about to cut himself into the game, on shuffles flashily but in vain through one's marked cards—the kindness done for the wrong reason, the apparent triumph which had involved no real effort, the seemingly heroic act into which one had been shamed. The dismal fact is that self-respect has nothing to do with the approval of others—who are, after all, deceived easily enough; has nothing to do with reputation—which, as Rhett Butler told Scarlett O'Hara, is something that people with courage can do without.

Like Jordan Baker, people with self-respect have the courage of their mistakes. They know the price of things. If they choose to commit adultery, they do not then go running, in an access of bad conscience, to receive absolution from the wronged parties; nor do they complain unduly of the unfairness, the undeserved embarrassment, of being named corespondent. If they choose to forego their work—say it is screenwriting—in favor of sitting around the Algonquin bar, they do not then wonder bitterly why the Hacketts, and not they, did Anne Frank.

In brief, people with self-respect exhibit a certain toughness, a kind of moral nerve; they display what was once called character, a quality which, although approved in the abstract, sometimes loses ground to the other, more instantly negotiable virtues. The measure of its slipping prestige is that one tends to think of it only in connection with homely children and with United States senators who have been defeated, preferably in the primary, for re-election. Nonetheless, character—the willingness to accept responsibility for one's own life—is the source from which self-respect springs.

It is the phenomenon sometimes called alienation from self. In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the spectre of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that one's sanity becomes an object of speculation among one's acquaintances. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight, to free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves—there lies the great, the singular power of self-respect. Without it, one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home. /end ID]

The mutuals were so right. Reading On Self-Respect by Joan Didion DOES stop you from losing your fucking mind

[wheelin-after-midnight]

36.

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs.

Loud - Jessie J ft. Lindsey Sterling

La Llamada (1993 version) - Selena y los Dinos

Small Town Big Time - Chris Young

Silent Night - Martina McBride

You Gonna Fly - Keith Urban

Peter Pan - Kelsea Ballerini

Smoke Gets in my Eyes - Inner Circle ft. Jr. Gong Marley

Sweet Sensation - McMaster & James

Cuz I Can - Pink

Forgiveness - Chris Young

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)?

Familial connections? The closest thing would be one of my uncles used to be in a band and they recorded an album in a local studio. I also got to meet Reba McEntire through Starlight Wish Foundation when I was 12, but I don't know if I'd call that a connection.

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are.

Nippy's pop up play house, can of bubly water I'm drinking, and one of Nippy's spring toys on the floor.

What kind of headphones do you use?

The Hesh Evo ones by Skullcandy.

What musical artists have you seen perform live?

I've seen Jann Arden three times.

What gaming consoles do you or your family own?

I don't have any. My nephews each have a PS4.

Name at least one book you loved as a child.

The Heartland series, the Dear Canada series, this book called A Single Shard we had to read in elementary school. There were so many, honestly.

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English)

My first language is English and I use a lot of British spellings.

What’s your favourite number, and why?

Four. No reason why at all. I just picked it as a kid. I do have a thing for even numbers, though.

Earliest moment in your life you can remember?

My Dad dropping me down some stairs at my step cousin's birthday party when he was drunk and the fighting that ensued between him and my mum is one of my earliest memories that really sticks out.

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate?

Right now my favourite chocolates are the ones in the Merci winter collection box because I got one from my sister for Christmas. The Winter Apple one is soooo good.

How would you describe your sense of humour?

Quick, sarcastic, dark. I dunno. I'm all over the place, man.

Do you wear much jewellery?

I have one necklace that I never take off. Otherwise there's nothing I wear constantly.

Longest drive you have ever been on?

2.5-3 hours.

Furthest away from home you have ever been?

California.

What programs do you currently have open?

This app and then Spotify in the background.

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? Bleach. - yeah, same. I just cleaned the toilet.

Ever written fanfiction for anything?

Yes. I've written plenty of fanfiction and poetry and all kinds of things. I used to write all the time.

Do you track any tags?

Not really.

What are some media that epitomize an ideal relationship to you — be it a platonic relationship/friendship, a  parental relationship, a romantic or sexual relationship, etc.?

I loved the relationship between Stef and Lena in The Fosters and the kind of parents they were. I would've loved to have them as mums.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you?

I would absolutely never. There's no excuse for putting your hands on a partner. Babe and I have worked through a lot, but she's never hit me. I've told her many times that that's not something I'd ever forgive or that she could come back from. If she hits me once, I'm out. She's said she wouldn't expect me to stay if she ever treated me like that.

What colour is your hairbrush/comb?

I have three different ones. One is black with little designs on it, one is pure black, one is black and red.

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you?

Lmfao yup. Unfortunately.

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you?

My brother and my mum are tied.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theatre?

Both.

How many bank accounts do you have?

One.

Have you ever had the flu?

Yes.

What is your goal for the next few months?

Not let the stress/worry/sadness of this move completely do me in.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder?

I have insomnia quite often.

Have you ever had food poisoning before?

Yeah, I genuinely thought I was dying. Wouldn't wish that on anyone.

What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for?

I will often splurge on groceries, since I don't leave the house all that often and have to pinch pennies a lot in other areas. I will also make sure Nippy has the best of everything she needs before I worry about myself at all.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you?

Not that I can remember.

Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious?

Probably not. Depends how deeply I connect with the person otherwise, whether they push their religion on me and expect me to convert or not.

Did you pull a senior prank?

No.

Did you graduate?

I graduated high school. I went to college, but I dropped out.

What was the last song you listened to?

People Like Us - Kelly Clarkson

Is fashion one of your interests?

Not really.

Is acting something you enjoy?

It used to be! I miss it like crazy!

What was the last thing you broke/sprained?

Never broken or sprained anything.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language?

Not a complete stranger, but someone I didn't know incredibly well.

Whose house, other than yours and your families’, are you most comfortable at?

No one's. Even most of my family doesn't live in houses that are easily accessible to me.

Have you ever burned someone’s picture?

No. I don't like fire unless it's contained. I don't even trust myself to light candles.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo?

Ew. No.

Do your parents smoke cigarettes?

My mum does. Dad smokes spliffs.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? I have several graphic tees and sweaters. Several of them have Whitney Houston written on them with different images of her, I have a t-shirt that has a pride flag on it and says Gay AF, another one says I'm so gay I can't even think straight, one says plant based bitch (got it when I was vegetarian), another one says profanity spoken here with a graphic of characters that are used to bleep curse words, one says death before decaf with a flying coffee pot on it, one says Depresso: that feeling you get when you run out of coffee with a graphic of a spilled coffee cup, and I have a tank top with lips in the Pride colors that says your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying. It was supposed to say kiss me I'm gay but the seller made a mistake so just let me keep it and gave me a refund. I think that's all the graphic clothing I have.

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want.

A ferret.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in?

Nothing. Lmfao.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it?

The Fifty Shades trilogy, lmfao.

Underwater or outer space?

Underwater.

Bird watching or whale watching?

Whale watching.

What was your best subject in school?

English, French, Spanish, Drama, Sociology, Law.

What was your worst subject in school?

Math and science.

Diamonds or pearls?

Either one.

[strwberryblast]

after school project

Hi guys it's been a minute! This is an oc x canon story I've been working on, if you like it you should go follow it on wattpad!

---

Yui sat at her desk, her fingers tapping on the desk nervously, the chatter of her classmates filling the room as everyone hoped to be paired with their friends. The noise felt like a distant hum to her, though, as her focus was entirely on Mr. Iguro, who was at the front, writing down pairs for the chemistry project. Her heart raced as he began calling out names.

"Please, please let me be paired with Nezuko," Yui thought, crossing her fingers under the desk. Nezuko was the only one Yui could talk to without her voice trembling or her words slipping out in a jumble. With Nezuko, everything seemed to flow, and it was easier to talk to her than anyone else.

Yui watched Mr. Iguro's hand hover over the list, sucking in her breath. "If I'm paired with someone else, how am I going to manage?" Her stomach twisted at the thought of being stuck with someone she couldn't even talk to. Her eyes darted across the room, landing on Genya, who was slouched in his chair, a scowl on his face.

Her heart dropped as Mr. Iguro called out the next group.

"Nishimura and Shinazugawa."

"There's no way..." Yui felt her face grow hot as she bowed her head. She could already picture the awkwardness and clumsy attempts to communicate. "How am I supposed to get anything done with someone like him for a whole month? " She didn't even want to think about it.

"How am I going to do a month of this?"

----

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Yui gathered her things slowly, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. The weight of the upcoming project pressed down on her, making her feel small and exposed.

"Yuiii!" Nezuko's cheerful voice broke through her anxious thoughts. Yui looked up to see her friend standing over her, a bright smile on her face.

"Hi!" Yui greeted her softly, offering a small, nervous smile in return.

"Let's go talk to Genya! He's with his partner right now, so it works out!" Nezuko suggested, already pulling her toward the door.

Yui's eyes widened in panic. She immediately shook her head. "I can't talk to him!" she whispered-yelled, looking around quickly, as if saying it too loudly would make the situation worse.

Nezuko raised an eyebrow, her smile never wavering. "Yes, you can!" she insisted, crossing her arms playfully. "You're going to have to work with him for a month anyway, might as well get it over with!"

Yui felt her face heating up. "A month?" The anxiety crept back. "I can't even say two words to him without my voice shaking!"

Nezuko, with her usual energy, practically dragged Yui toward the boys, despite Yui's attempts to stall.

"Hey, Genya! Zenitsu!" Nezuko greeted with a big smile. "I thought we could talk about our project plans." She glanced at Yui, who was shuffling beside her, eyes glued to the floor.

Genya looked at Yui for a second, raising an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Zenitsu, on the other hand, was already rambling to Nezuko.

"I-I, um... do you want to come over to my place to work on the project?" Zenitsu asked, his voice louder than usual. Nezuko flashed him a sweet smile.

"Works for me!" she said, making Zenitsu go bright red. He grinned nervously, clearly flustered.

Yui did her best to stay small, feeling completely out of her element. She tried to avoid looking at Genya, but after a moment, she couldn't help it. When their eyes met, her cheeks went pink, and she quickly looked down.

"Can we go to your house?" Genya asked, his voice low and a little awkward. "Me and my brother are... fighting right now."

Yui felt her heart begin to race. She wasn't expecting that. She looked away quickly, still too embarrassed to make eye contact. "Uh... yeah..." she muttered, barely audible.

Genya tilted his head, studying her for a second before nodding. "Cool. So, I'll come over to yours after school, yeah?"

Yui nodded quickly, still avoiding his gaze. "Yeah," she whispered.

----

After school, the two of them walked toward Yui's house in silence. Yui kept her eyes on the ground, her fingers gripping the handle of her bag so tightly her knuckles were white. The quiet felt too heavy, and her heart was thudding in her chest.

Finally, Genya cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "What's the project about again?" His voice was casual, but he couldn't help but notice how stiff Yui had become.

Yui stopped walking, her face going red. She quickly dug through her bag, trying to find the packet, her hands shaking a little. She pulled it out, still not looking at him, and handed it over. "Uh... it's all in there," she mumbled, voice barely audible.

"Okay..." Genya took the packet, skimming over it. "Seems simple enough." Yui nodded quickly, though it was more of a reflex than anything.

They kept walking, but after a moment, Yui suddenly stopped, pointing to a house just ahead.

Genya stopped beside her and looked at the house. "Yours? I'm assuming," he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yui nodded, still avoiding his eyes. "Yeah," she said, nervously. Genya rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little out of place. "Well, let's get inside and start this project, yeah?" he said with a sheepish smile.

Yui began to walk into the house, Genya following shortly after. "Yui! You're home!" They heard a voice exclaim. "Hi!" Yui smiled sweetly, her voice sounding more natural as she spoke to her brother, who was running toward them. He came to a stop when he noticed the tall figure next to her.

"Who's this?" he said, pointing.

"Oh!" Yui exclaimed before glancing behind her, almost forgetting he was there. "Th-this is, uh..."

"I'm Genya, I'm working with Nishimura on a group project," Genya said, interrupting her. Shun looked over at Yui, who was now taking off her shoes.

He held out his hand to Genya. "I'm Shun! Yui's older brother." Genya took his hand with an awkward smile. "It's nice to meet you."

As they were chatting, Yui slipped away.

"Where'd Nishimura go?" Genya asked, peeking over Shun's shoulder. Shun laughed.

"Just call her Yui in the house- we're all Nishimura here!" He patted Genya's back. "Also, she's a little shy, so be patient with her, 'kay?"

Genya gave a quick nod. "Got it."

"I'll go get her! Make yourself at home!" Shun exclaimed energetically before darting off into the house. Genya hesitated at the door for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He removed his shoes , placing them on the mat, then walked into the entryway. The house was quiet, with the faint smell of something savory coming from the kitchen.

He spotted the living room and made his way over, sitting on the edge of the couch, as though it might swallow him whole if he leaned back any farther. He glanced around the room, unsure of what to do with himself. There were family photos on the wall- Yui as a child, smiling shyly in a park, and another one of her with her brother, Shun, making silly faces. Genya's gaze lingered on the photo of Yui. She looked so different- so... normal. "All I've ever seen is her nervous and quiet. It's weird seeing her smile," he thought, glancing away.

Normally, he was flustered around girls, like Mrs. Mitsuri, or anyone, really. His thoughts were always a jumble. He'd been trying to stay calm ever since he found out he had to work with Yui on the project. It had been easier since she was so quiet; normally, he'd be a blushing mess by now.

"How am I going to do a month of this?"

----

I hope you guys like it, if you do please check it out on wattpad! I got signed out of the my old wattpad and this is my first book on the new one, I'll get into the characters x readers soon though promise!.