#which? for that much GOOD food? im quite proud

[spontaneousmusicalnumber]

I bought a chest freezer recently so I can finally indulge my grandma instincts of Make An Unreasonable Amount Of Food For Not Much Money And Eat Of It For Months

Today I bought two rotisserie chickens and made SIX large chicken pot pies (9" pie tins), used the leftover carcasses and have chicken stock going in the slow cooker, with enough leftover chicken meat and veg to make chicken rice soup tomorrow for DnD and probably have quite a bit to freeze as well.

[capitanology]

Heeloo! I hope you're doing well! If it's alright can I request husband headcanons for Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard?? Fluff and domestic things and just how they'd be as a partner? Thank you sm for your time!✨<3

hi nonnie !! thank you for the ask, i hope i did it justice since im not rlly good at headcannons <3

jing yuan

- very proud of his spouse, would likely take any chance to interject mid-conversation just to slip in a few praises here and there regarding you even though the topic has nothing to do with you: “oh, the mission was a success? you see, my spouse-“ “you’re having lunch at the cafeteria? well, my spouse made lunch-“ “that colour is a favourite of my-“ - yeah, you get the gist - and sometimes it’s not even intentional, it's just that the thought of you exists on his mind 24/7 so slipping you into anything he did or says is as natural as breathing for him - also would be 10x clingier than before—literally would be by your side every moment of time if not for his official general duties, which he sees as unfortunate because there’s nothing more important and as dire than being with you - adding on to that, i think he loves, loves, loves spending meal times or just resting around with you; both of you don’t have to necessarily talk, but just having your presence around gives him a sense of peace that he subconsciously or intentionally searches for—looking at your pretty face just makes it all the more better <3

dr ratio

- quite attentive, whether it’s for your needs or in general - i like to think that he cares about your well-being a lot, hence he tends to emphasize on taking care of yourself; will remind you to have a better sleeping schedule, take enough breaks, to not push yourself too much that it renders you incapable of doing anything afterwards - would try to ease your burden when it comes to juggling work, but allows enough leeway as he knows both your capabilities and limits; he will offer his assistance as seeing you stressed and overwhelmed is the last thing he wants, but he doesn't want to interfere too much to the point of coddling - may come off as arrogant or rude due to the way he phrases his words/intentions, but i think he’s actually just a softie—others may not see it as much, but it can be very obvious how his demeanor would soften despite his "tough/harsh" words whenever it comes to you - definitely loves spending quality time with you; just doing work side by side, sitting in the silence of each other's company, knowing that you're not anywhere else but right next to him

gepard

- i would say he’s quite devoted - can be a bit more on the reserved side sometimes, but that’s just because his love for you can overwhelm him and he doesn’t know what to do with it except just silently stew in it - would spend his day off just lying around in bed, taking the time to take in and appreciate the little moments he has with you since it can be scarce due to his busy schedule - id like to think that he would surprise you with little gestures, sometimes as a way of expressing his regrets for not being able to be with you for some time; giving you flowers, gifting a specific item that you’ve been eyeing, getting your favourite food when he returns home from a mission - also very affectionate, although he can be quite shy lol, but he lives for being able to touch you; nothing sexual (most of the time), just being able to feel your skin on his just affirms the fact that he’s finally back home with his lovely spouse, which he has missed dearly every single day

[madschiavelique]

A Crown of Ink : Chapter 12 - Six of Cups, Reversed

summary : holidays are over, and the trip to demacia starts off quite particularly. also, be prepared for two new characters to be introduced in this

content warnings : none lmfao, BOO forced proximity, BOO um speaking heart to heart? feelings are scary man

word count : 9.4k

author's note : okay after much emotional torment i'm HERE! i changed campus in the mean time and am about to get back to school soon, so i thought i could let y'all get this piece of food in the mean time since chances are i won't be able to post in a while - as always, i have no clue of whether this is good or not IM JUST A GIRL OKAY

NOT proofread for now

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

The holiday had gone well, you and Eris having taken advantage of the money Jayce had given you before the masquerade to spend afternoons shopping and exploring. You weren't particularly proud of the gesture, but if he was, according to Eris's reading, perfectly well off financially, then perhaps you could afford to be a little selfish.

You had roamed almost every street in Piltover, entering an unimaginable number of shops and hanging around to buy pastries and other delicacies.

Eris was partly stared at by her few piercings, but she didn't really care. The Pilties could call her a louse all they wanted and she wouldn't even hear them.

She had bought new notebooks which she used for her personal Tarot readings, Piltover's paper being transcendently different from Zaun's. The two of you went round bookshops, buying a variety of works, both historical and fictional, and leaving with bags full of new tomes to add to your personal libraries.

The goodbyes came too quickly for your liking, as per usual. After spending a long night talking about everything and nothing, as you always did, and sacrificing your sleep for the pleasure of longer company, you walked Eris back to the bridge.

You hugged each other tightly, promising to send each other letters as you always did, and parted again. You'd waited until she'd reached the end of the bridge before waving goodbye and turning away. 

You had returned to the emptiness of your flat, regaining the feeling that lived with you just a few months ago. No flatmate, no friends in the building, just you and your thoughts.

It was strange. The routine that had so quickly settled into your life had profoundly upset your principles, and now that you were momentarily back to them, you had no desire to be here.

Of course you appreciated your solitude, your possibility of having time just for yourself, without no one else around. But everything had undergone a metamorphosis, like a snake shedding its old skin and leaving it somewhere for someone to come back and see the slimness of its silhouette and admire its evolution.

You felt sorry for your old carcass, what was left of it was miserable and it seemed impossible to get rid of it entirely. The paint still hadn't dried on the walls of your soul and your mind, and you wondered when the day would come when you'd finally be able to hang pictures on them without staining anything.

Fortunately for you, however, Sky arrived a few days after Eris had left and gave you a hug. She had loosened up and backed away from you when she remembered that she had a cold and didn't want to give it to you.

You chatted a bit about your holiday before the last weekend of the break came and you went back to work.

Pearl finally found you again and took you in her arms, her new perfume permeating the whole room with an exquisite blend of jasmine and geraniums.

"What happened to you?" She asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "You look good!"

You smiled at her. "Did you see yourself? I don't think any customer will be able to give you their order in one go from your charm."

She grinned, giggling. "I never thought you were born without a frown," she remarked as she passed behind the counter, "you have to tell me your secret."

You hadn't really changed anything aesthetically, but you felt that something was profoundly better, like a constant relief that enveloped your shoulders.

The other morning's discussion with Viktor had given you a different perspective. You expected to see him at every street corner, to hear the distinct sound of his cane on the parquet floor of the café and for him to approach the counter to ask you for his usual mocha in a walnut-cracking accent, his lips closing his sentence to forbid any possible rebuttal.

You wondered if he would stick to the last clause, and therefore come and visit you at the café during this last weekend, unless he was finally enjoying not having to put up with your nonsense any more.

You finally imitated Pearl and joined her behind the counter.

"No secret," you said as you made sure your apron was neatly tied, "just the fresh relief of being on holiday. Oh and the exciting dread of going on a trip."

"You? Getting out of this place?" She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

You made sure the condiment stand was perfectly arranged. "If you have any gift ideas you'd like to get from Demacia, I will try my best to get it for you."

"Demacia?" Pearl exclaimed. "What's your visit to the White City worth?"

"A class trip, something to strengthen the ties between Piltover Academy and Demacia Academy apparently," you recited.

"I've always found Demacians pretentious and with a very black-and-white mentality with no in-betweens," Pearl remarked with a shrug, "but I envy some of their seaside scenery. Don't bother with plants or anything, theirs are temperamental and real calamities to maintain. Just like their guys."

You smiled, arching an eyebrow. "Did you have a fling with one of them?"

She sighed. "I don't really hear from him any more, it turns out he ended up in prison and I left the White City to move here instead."

You frowned. "In prison?"

"You heard perfectly," she smiled, "of course I had my rebellious side back then. But what can I say? He was handsome, intelligent, captivating..."

"Another second and I find you leaning over the counter, your cheek in your palm as you curl a lock of hair around your finger thoughtfully like a schoolgirl." You smiled, imitating the gesture as she pressed her fist against your shoulder.

"Haha," she laughed falsely, "mock me. We'll talk about it again when you too have someone your eyes are looking for in every room you go into."

Your smile faded at this simple phrase, straightening as you tried to pretend that her remark hadn't affected you. However, nothing escaped your colleague's sharp gaze.

"Did I..." her eyes crinkled as her lips stretched into a mischievous smile, "did I hit a nerve."

"There's nothing to hit," you sighed as you uselessly ran your hands over your uniform to pretend to smooth out the creases.

She gazed at you for a moment, her eyes gracefully made up with a light brown shadow surrounding you.

"Is it Jayce?"

You giggled. "What? No, plus," you leaned towards her, "sorry to break your chances but he is already taken."

"With such a face I would have been worried if it had been otherwise."

The café doors opened before Pearl could say anything more about the situation, the first customer entering and your day finally beginning.

Yet as the day wore on, you kept coming back to Pearl's words.

Why were you seeing Viktor everywhere?

You found him in the Mochas you served, the dark brown of the coffee reminding you of his hair, his smell, the faith of waking up to warmth. 

You found him in the violet of the falling night, in the pansy flowers that persisted through the winter, in the fabric of your masquerade dress that you sometimes pinched between your fingers in the morning while deciding what to wear.

You found him in the amber of the hall fire, in the candles of the street lamps that guided you home, in the sun that caressed you in the morning and bid you farewell in a show of colour in the evening.

He haunted you, even in his absence.

The remedy for this came soon enough, however, when the day of departure arrived, and your whole class gathered on the zeppelin arrival docks. An army of students bundled up in scarves, hats and mittens swarmed around as the sun barely rose, tracing the gargantuan silhouette of your means of transport.

Of all the zeppelins moored on the quays, The Young Prince was the most massive. Of a length that you couldn't even make out from where you were standing, it bore its name in capital gold letters that stood out brightly against its creamy colour. You remember hearing that it was a technological feat that drastically cut travel times. What's more, it, which was usually used to move heavier goods, would go faster given that for this journey it would only be carrying you.

"Come closer, come closer!" Heimerdinger called, having made his way onto a cubic container about your size so that the group could see him properly.

With his fur, he didn't seem to suffer from the cold, apart from his nose and ears which were a little redder than their usual pink.

"All right," he clapped his hands together when he had your attention, "first of all, hello everyone."

The class replied with meagre hellos, their voices tired. Your eyes searched Viktor and Jayce for a moment before returning to those of Heimerdinger once you'd understood you couldn't find them yet.

"We are going to go over a few details of our trip aboard The Young Prince here, so that our little group stands on the same wavelength. First of all," he raised a gloved finger in the air, "the speed of this prestigious machine will have the privilege of getting us to Demacia by tomorrow morning. The journey will therefore be one day, and one night, and that's why we're going to leave it up to you to choose your cabin partner."

You'd fully expected to find yourself sleeping during the journey, and the possibility of sharing a cabin with someone had of course percolated through your mind. When you turned to Sky, however, Orceylia had already attached herself to her arm.

Although you weren't particularly thrilled about this, you were expecting it. The fact that you lived with her and therefore already spent a lot of time with her must have been the winning argument for you to end up like this.

"Professor, can the cabins be mixed?" A classmate asked.

Heimerdinger nodded, bringing his hands behind his back. "The cabins are indeed co-ed."

Some of the classmates looked at each other with knowing glances before Heimerdinger resumed his explanation.

"I would ask you, however, to choose wisely, given that the duo you will form with your partner will remain the same during our stay." He took a small step to the side. "As part of your, how shall I put it... ah! Immersion, you will be assigned to another pair of Demacian Academy students who will be your guides during our stay."

That's all we needed, you thought. You weren't too keen on the idea of socialising, but you could see how it could potentially enrich your academic life.

"Well, I'll leave you free to go on board and choose your cabins with your fellow traveller," he chirped, "we will have plenty of time to discuss your stay and what is in store for us on the journey."

Without further ado, the students began to move forward, and you had no idea who your travelling partner would be.

It was then that a tall brunette head emerged from the crowd, accompanied by his eternal sidekick, chatting away.

Viktor had his back to you, and Jayce was talking to him, his face tucked into his collar as his gaze met yours. He smiled at you, waving and coming towards you as Viktor turned.

His eyes landed on you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

"Come there," Jayce laughed as he came to hug you, having not had a chance to see you for a while.

His thick arms held you so tightly he could have broken your ribs. "Your comfort will be short-lived if you don't let me breathe," you managed to mumble.

"Oh," he stepped back, suddenly aware of his strength, "sorry."

Viktor reached your level in turn, your eyes settling on him with a small smile.

"Hey."

He smiled at you back, "Hey."

"Are you sharing your cabin with Sky?" Jayce inquired.

You shrug. "No, she's already got someone else."

"Great!" He exclaimed.

You arch an eyebrow. "Great?"

"I mean," he laughed nervously as his eyes darted between you and Viktor before he put his hand on Viktor's shoulder, "Viktor doesn't have a cabin partner! Why don't you guys just temporarily become roommates?"

"Jayce," Viktor began, "I don't think forcing this choice on Miss would be appropriate-"

"I'm sure everything will work out just fine," he smiled, turning to you, "what do you say?"

You pursed your lips, apprehensive to contradict him, but immediately closed them in consideration. It was only for one night, in a bunk bed, sleeping. Nothing more, nothing less surely.

"I thought you were as inseparable as a fingernail and a finger," you remarked as you exchanged glances with Viktor.

The latter parted his lips for a moment as he turned to Jayce. 

"It seems my dearest work partner has found a subterfuge to escape my impossibly clingy attitude," he commented with a sigh.

"Hey don't say that!" Jayce snarled at the sarcasm. "You're the one that refuses hugs, not me."

"You refused a Jayce hug?" You asked, falsely shocked.

"He obviously put aside the fact that he could break any of us like a toothpick," he sighed.

"Which is exactly the reason why I'm not sharing a cabin with you." Jayce turned to you. "I've already had a chance to visit the ship upstream, the beds are too short for me. I have to sleep on the bottom mattress so my feet don't dangle out into the void for my cabin mate."

You understood the situation. Given that Viktor wouldn't be able to climb the ladder leading to the top mattress without immense discomfort, it was preferable that he occupy the bottom place, which could prove to be a slight problem if Jayce, who was easily the size of a fridge, had to take the top bunk.

"Alright," you nodded.

Both men turned to you, Jayce asking first. "Alright?"

You shrugged, resting your eyes on Viktor's. "I don't mind sharing cabins with you."

Viktor seemed as stunned as Jayce that you'd agreed, especially as the latter seemed taken aback by the simple fact that you hadn't glared at Viktor even once since the start of this conversation.

"Are you sure?" Viktor asked anyway.

You nodded. "Yes."

"Really? Because," he shrugged, his hand readjusting on his cane, "if you don't that is profoundly understandable you know?" 

You chuckled. "Why would that be understandable?"

"I should probably point out," Jayce pointed out, "that until recently you wanted to threaten him with salt or poison his coffee."

"Glad it's something that can remain in the past then," you replied, nodding and raising your eyebrows.

Jayce seemed deeply confused, his head continually swivelling between Viktor and you. "Did I miss something?"

"No," Viktor laughed softly, lowering his head and swinging his cane slightly against the floor.

"Plus I don't think I should be in danger with Viktor in my cabin," you added.

The latter returned your gaze. "Really? What makes you think you would be so safe?"

You let a playful smile spread across your face. "What're you going to do? Pounce on me?"

"Don't be so quick to think of this possibility as evitable," he straightened, chin high as his half-closed eyes remained on yours, "we still haven't had our chance to race after all."

"Race?" Jayce repeated, seeming to sink deeper and deeper into the quicksand of confusion. "Don't tell me you guys are in another competitive state again."

"I don't know who would win," you smiled, "that would be very close..."

But the words you were hoping to form faded from your lips as a blonde head you knew all too well came into your field of vision.

Tyler, dressed in a long coat and turtleneck, advanced with a clenched jaw towards the small bridge leading to the airship. He didn't offer you a glance, but your eyes had enough time to notice a purple mark on his cheekbone.

If your eyes weren't deceiving you, it was indeed a huge haematoma spreading across his cheek. This time, however, you had no recollection of having been the reason behind it.

"What happened to him?" You asked.

Jayce and Viktor turned to him in turn, Jayce sighing.

"Since when to you care about his state?" Viktor inquired.

"I don't," you corrected, "I'm just curious."

Jayce shook his head slightly. "From what I heard from Mel," he raised his fingers, looking at you both, "and don't tell anyone you heard that from me from her, it looks like Hoskel's been trying to correct some of Tyler's behaviour."

"Wouldn't be too late." You crossed your arms as you watched the blond's silhouette enter the airship. "Which behaviours exactly?"

"I think your little presentation to Councillor Hoskel at the masquerade and the eventual link made by his idiotic brain between the first time Tyler came back with a broken nose and you are of effect."

"Hmm," you hummed, biting the inside of your cheek lightly.

You had no empathy for him, he'd disgusted you enough to last a lifetime, but it was deeply strange to see him like this. Violence, no matter where it came from, was always an alien on someone else's skin.

"I think we should get on The Young Prince before he leaves without us and all the cabins are taken," suggested Viktor, beginning his walk towards it.

You followed him, Jayce and Viktor's poor sense of direction in linear spaces clearly getting the better of them as you took the lead to guide them. Heimerdinger was there, making the roll call and ensuring that all the students were present.

Once this was done, the students dispersed, each returning to the cabins they had begun to occupy. Jayce rejoined his sleeping partner, leaving you and Viktor to look for a cabin. You finally found an empty one, and beckoned Viktor to come in.

The space wasn't large. It was a small long room with no windows, simply furnished with a bunk bed, a small wardrobe for longer journeys, and the luxury of a tap and mirror.

The toilets were apparently at the end of the corridor, and you'd probably be without showers for the whole of this short trip to save water.

You trudged along, bringing your suitcase to the side of the bed. The space was far too small, but it wasn't for comfort, it was simply to get through the night so you could get on with your task.

You turned to Viktor, who also seemed to be observing the cabin with no particular expression.

“You don't snore, do you?” You questioned, removing your scarf and placing it on your mattress.

He shrugged, his eyes still roaming the few elements in the room before regaining your gaze. “No, however you talk in your sleep.”

You recoiled in confusion, as Sky had never mentioned this detail before. “I what?”

He stepped forward, passing in front of you. “When you had your fever,” he sat down on the bottom mattress with a heavy sigh, “you kept mumbling things in your sleep.”

You chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest. “I was delirious, that doesn't make it a recurring occurrence.”

“Does it now?” You recognized his playful tone of condescension elegantly disguised as levity.

You tilted your head down slightly, chewing your cheek to prevent a smile from spreading too far across your lips. “Careful, Moravec,” you emphasized, ”Tyler might not have received his purple stain from me but that doesn't mean your favourite colour needs to lay on your face as well.”

He came to rest his chin on his cane, pensive for a moment without finding your gaze. “You had no difficulty wearing it to the masquerade, though,” he remarked, regaining your eyes.

Your cheeks warmed slightly and you decided to shed your coat and hang it on one of the corners of the bed. “What's this got to do with anything?”

“It has to do with everything,” he confirmed.

“I didn't know purple had such power,” you breathed.

“It's not the things themselves that have power, it's we who give them power.”

“What a transcendent and revolutionary philosophy, it's well worth a few lyrical songs and a quotation in yet another modern collection of two-bit poetry.”

He smiles, playful. “I'd mention your name in the credit of that work, which is sure to make me excessively rich with young ladies.”

You chuckled, the vision of middle-school girls scrambling to get hold of the book and crying that very evening over pithily simple and mediocre quotes. “I hope the cover is purple then.”

He nodded, smiling. You couldn't help but feel relief, a pleasant reunion that reassured you and filled you with joy. Your useless little quarrels and verbal jousts had changed little, and you found more enthusiasm in them than you would have thought.

You had wondered whether time and distance would change you, make you... awkward around each other. But it didn't, and the familiarity of this strange complicity covered your heart with warmth.

The vehicle began to shake, the take-off had begun. You turned to him.

“Wanna race to the windows?” 

He laughed softly in a hum. “I think I'll pass on this one,” he sighed before lying back on his mattress, ”short night calls for a short nap.”

You nodded. “See you at lunch then?”

“See you at lunch, Miss.”

You smiled, strangely missing the appellation on his lips, even if the origin of the nickname seemed dubious. You'd long thought it was just another nickname, a polite etiquette. He did call Sky that after all, and so did she. But there was something, a secret truth, a whisper ready to burst near your ear and your heart that would explain everything.

You left the cabin, joining the other students in what appeared to be a large common space. 

Despite its industrial appearance and more-than-welcoming, useful nature, the Young Prince's overall space was not unpleasant. On the sides of the room, large bay windows gave you an unobstructed view of the sunrise, which covered all the clouds in a layer of cottony orange.

A few sofas and armchairs were arranged and had no doubt been moved by the students for better immersion. Card games were already out on one side, while a small group of students surrounded Heimerdinger, listening to his rantings.

Sky beckoned you to join her on the sofa for a game of cards, and you smiled as you reached her.

The day had gone by faster than you'd expected. After many games of cards, it was time for lunch, which had been prepared for you by the crew. Viktor finally joined you at this point, an unearthed man's head accompanying him in an equally energetic gait.

Jayce came over to him, putting his hand on his shoulder and urging him over to one of the windows leading outside, Viktor seeming to tense up instantly. Perhaps he was afraid of heights? Or airsick?

The departure had been an assembly of sensations to take in, the floor vibrated slightly, and the ventilation left a continuous muffled sound in the air, like that of an air leak or an old refrigerator. But you'd forgotten both by force of habit.

The rest of the day was taken up with a lecture by Professor Heimerdinger on the various regions you were flying over and their histories, interspersed here and there with anecdotes from his own travels that allowed you to lift your quills from your papers for a moment.

It was already getting dark outside when his class was over, and a little historical lesson this time about the Young Prince was presented to you, which you could only partially listen to.

The truth is, you were feeling very distracted. Your eyes and thoughts kept returning to Viktor, as if they were drawn to him like magnets and you couldn't shake the feeling.

Was it just some kind of compensation? Like a way of lightening the invisible balance of not having seen or crossed paths with him for a long time?

But a week wasn't such a long time, was it? It was only a handful of days, just a little while during which you hadn't seen him, heard him or exchanged with him.

All in all, now that you thought about it, it had seemed like an eternity.

You pushed the thought from your mind, trying to divert your gaze to the nighttime outside, and take your mind off things by playing a few more games of cards until dinnertime came and went, and bedtime took its place.

And that inevitably you'd find yourself with him to endure in the same room for an entire night.

When you returned to your room, Viktor was already there. He had propped his cane against the bed's ladder while his long fingers worked on the buttons of his uniform jacket.

Your eyes lingered for a moment on their movement, their meticulous, habitual pinching, pushing dark, shiny disks out of their housings as he shed his jacket and moved on to his shirt. Your cheeks heated for a moment, straining to look away and reach for your suitcase to open it and grab your toiletry bag.

You felt his gaze on you, kneeling on the floor as you grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste to face the sink. In the reflection, you saw the pale, mole-strewn skin of Viktor's torso.

He wasn't as thin as you'd thought. He didn't necessarily have bulging muscles the size of tree trunks like Jayce, but he wasn't devoid of muscle. He was lean.

When he offered you his back in sight as he sat down to open his suitcase and grab his pajamas for the night, you noticed a small metallic sliver stretching across his back like bolts along an arch. 

You'd heard of this kind of procedure, a spinal fusion, an operation aimed at straightening the spine and preventing it from drifting into deformity.

You could imagine that Viktor's posture wasn't intact, that his leaning on his cane must have greatly impacted the tension in his muscles due to the lack of support.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he remarked as he slipped on his top, ”You aren't being subtle, you know.”

Your cheeks heated with embarrassment as you lowered your eyes and deposited a line of toothpaste on the straight bristles of your toothbrush.

“Sorry,” was all you managed to say as you stuffed the brush into your mouth, tucking your free hand under your elbow as you began to brush.

But your eyes inevitably fell back on the back of his head, on his hair, slightly messy after his nap. What would it be like the next morning when you woke up?

“Are you trying to piece a hole in my skull?”

You smiled slightly, removing your toothbrush from your mouth to articulate despite the foam. “Is it working?”

You couldn't see his face, but from where you were you could see his cheekbones rise. “I guess the only way to find out is for you to continue doing so, which would bring me ultimately to ask - why are you staring at me?”

You let your toothbrush hang in the air for a moment, the freshness of your toothpaste invading your mouth and almost anesthetizing it. 

“Just wondering,” you finally say, before bringing it back into your mouth and simply speeding your brushing.

He then stood up, pants in hand. “Wondering about what?”

You stopped brushing again, sighing as your gaze met Viktor's in the mirror, taking your toothbrush out of your mouth once more.

“Wondering when you're going to ask me to close my eyes,” you replied, your eyes landing on his pants as you resumed brushing.

He smiled, slightly surprised all the same. Surely he was expecting to have to go to the toilet at the end of the corridor and bother trying to change in a very small and uncomfortable space.

“That would be now,” he affirmed.

You nodded, spitting into the sink before turning to the nearest corner of the room and lowering your head.

“Tell me when you're done,” you noted simply before resuming your toothbrushing.

He said nothing, the silence simply inhabited by your brushing in the room taking over before you heard the distinguishable thud of a cloth settling on a blanket. You heard the distinct sound of a metal belt buckle being clutched, and of fabric flowing down thighs to end in a heap of folds. You could hear him grabbing his other pair of pants, of a fabric already lighter than the academy pants, and slipping them on.

“Done,” he announced simply.

You returned to the sink as if nothing had happened, trying as best you could to avoid his gaze, but feeling it on you you couldn't help but meet his eyes again.

It was, of course, the first time you'd seen Viktor in his pyjamas. A simple loose-fitting t-shirt and loose-fitting brown plaid pants. You'd never seen him in such relaxed clothes, but the snag was that one of your own pyjamas you'd brought along was almost identical.

“Did you go through my stuff?” You asked as you finished cleaning your teeth and rinsed your mouth one last time.

“What?” He asked, confused by this remark.

You sighed, looking at his outfit for a moment. “Turn around, I'm gonna change.”

He nodded, asking no more questions and turning around, imitating you and lowering his head. You couldn't help noticing that he had a more defined back than you'd expected, under his black T-shirt.

You grabbed your pajamas, shedding your uniform in turn.

“Why would I go through your stuff?” He asked, still motionless as you finally took off your shirt and felt the air in the room stick against your skin.

You slipped the top on quickly, switching to your belt buckle. “You will understand soon.”

Your pants fell into a heap of folds on the floor, which you pushed with the tip of your foot before slipping your pants on your legs one by one and tightening the drawstring so that they wouldn't fall.

You watched him for a moment, his back to you. He seemed so far from the academic you knew, and a warmth settled for a moment in your belly just at the thought of how being friends with him outside of the frame of the Academy settled warmly near your heart.

“You can look now,” you finally said, surprisingly nervous.

He turned, and raised his eyebrows. His eyes returned to yours for a moment, as if for confirmation that this wasn't some kind of joke, before continuing their observation.

He seemed to part his lips for a moment, as if to say something, but nothing came as he closed them again. His eyes watched his own outfit, surprised.

“How could it be the same color as well...” he said, almost absently.

“Did you go through my stuff?” You asked again.

His eyes returned to you. “Do I look like the kind of guy that would go through your stuff?”

You sighed. “No,” you admitted.

He couldn't help but laugh softly for a moment, however, before turning away from you and sitting down on his bed.

“What?” You asked, confused by his laughter.

He chuckled softly before reaching into his satchel and pulling out a book for the night.

“It seems that whatever happens fate always finds a way to bring us back on the same level,” he smiled, exchanging a glance with you before pulling open the tucked-in blanket and slipping under it.

You weren't in the mood to sleep yet, or to stop talking to him, strangely enough.

You came to cross your arms, hooking your leg in front of the other as you pressed your shoulder against the ladder of your bunk bed.

He was watching you, waiting for what you were going to say. You held his gaze for a moment before lowering it, biting the inside of your cheek as the floor seemed a much better conversation companion.

“You didn't come to the café at all,” you confessed.

He was half-sitting up in bed, leaning on one elbow as he watched you. He seemed surprised, as if some deeply sad news had just been delivered.

“We had to unpack a bit too many boxes,” he explained.

You shrugged, tentatively regaining his eyes. “I could have helped.”

“You were with your friend,” he emphasized with a gentle smile, ”it would have been rude to disturb her stay by depriving her of your presence.”

You rolled your eyes, remembering the number of elbows Eris kept nudging you with as she urged you to go and find them eventually. “I doubt my presence would have made that much difference.”

“Believe me, it would have,” Viktor admitted.

You straightened up. “What do you mean?”

“I don't think you've ever tasted Jayce's coffee, and I hope you never experience it, or rather, the torture of it.” He grabbed his book, settling back against his pillow as he gained his page. “Jayce was so fed up with my wincing that he finally suggested the idea of hiring you as our personal barista.”

“Really?” You chuckled lightly as you imagined Jayce's face breaking down as each attempt he made at his coffees was perpetually punctuated by a frown from his sidekick. “How's it paid.”

“We give you a little paper for each day and we add these gold star stickers on for all your good coffees until you get unlimited access to Heimerdinger's lab.”

Your eyebrows jumped to the ceiling. “You guys have access to his lab?”

Viktor abandoned his reading to regain your gaze. “His previous assistant, remember?

The discussion you'd had with him a few weeks ago before the exams came back to mind, your fingers tingling under the memory of his wrist in your hand.

“Ah,” you remarked, ”right.”

A short moment passed during which neither of you said anything. You remembered that discussion so well, how could you forget it when it had been so profoundly decisive?

You were about to climb the ladder to your bed before he broke the silence.

“Why were you so adamant about being first all the time?”

You paused in your movements, your hands resting on the ladder's handrails as the question stirred a bitter feeling in your stomach. 

“Was it just pure perfectionism? Or... something else?”

You regained his gaze, inhaling harshly. “Something else,” you confirmed.

“Which was?” He asked.

Sure, you were friends with Viktor, but were you really ready to open up to him on this subject?

“I can't tell you yet,” you sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line, ”but... I guess once you hit the ground really hard you never really want to jump from that cliff again.”

Her eyes tried to pierce you, to detect beneath the innuendo and your enigmatic answers the truth so shy and distant.

“Hmm,” he hummed before lowering his eyes to his book.

Part of you wanted to talk to him about it, for him to understand the genesis of your intentions, but you didn't feel up to facing this yet. It was too soon.

When you finally climbed into bed and picked up your own book for the evening, you couldn't help thinking about the card you'd drawn that very morning.

The six of cups had seemed so sweet to you, with its little illustration of cups full of flowers. The description of it, however, came less close to softness as the card came out upside down - reversed.

Gifts from the heart. A walk down memory lane. Kindness. Sharing. Protection.

Two children share a cup in a walled town. Flowers grow from the cups, implying growth and manifestation in the real world. The silhouette of an adult man, perhaps a soldier, moves away, suggesting that this is a space of youth. Old situations disappear. The exchange of cups between children reflects the gift of the heart.

Only this description didn't seem to be enough for you, and you searched through your belongings for one of the Tarot explanation books Selene had passed you.

The Six of Cups Reversed appears as a reminder to break free from nostalgic sentiments that may be holding us back. In its reversed position, this card signals unresolved issues from the past that we must confront and release in order to move forward. It urges us to let go of old patterns, memories, and attachments that no longer serve our growth. Instead of living in the past, we are encouraged to embrace the present moment and look towards the future with a sense of renewed optimism. 

But you couldn't unravel the threads of the past, couldn't untangle them and free yourself from their oppressive embrace. You sincerely hoped, however, that one day you'd be able to break free, to extricate yourself from this spider's web whose mistress was no more.

You turned off the lamp right next to you on the wall, unable to swallow a single line of text in your book.

“Sleeping already, Miss?” you heard just below you.

You sighed. “No, I'm too busy having a conversation with the ceiling right now.”

“Really?” You could hear the smile on his lips. “What is it saying?”

“I don't know, I don't speak ceiling,” you smiled stupidly in turn, ”I just listen to him and nod not to hurt his feelings.”

“How thoughtful of you.” He turned a page in his own book.

“What can I say, I wear my heart on my sleeve.”

He chuckled. “That you do.”

You leaned to the side, protruding from your bunk bed to look at him playfully.

“Was that sarcasm or a generic statement?”

He didn't even turn from the lines of the book to observe you. “A bit of both.”

“How is that a bit of both?”

He sighed, lowering his book to look at you this time. “You're willing to give me free coffee and use your meager vacation time to come and help us move boxes out of our apartment, but if I remember correctly not long ago you flatly refused to pass me a single candle."

You rolled your eyes. “That's because you were forcing on with the magic words.”

“Politeness is no mean feat,” he pointed out before taking up his book again, ”obviously with you anyway.”

“Please and Thank Yous are not meagre things to throw in the air,” you sighed, ”they're words, they have weight on all things. I can't use them haphazardly with the wrong people.”

“Of that I am aware, Miss.”

The underlining of your nickname made your skin itch like nettles.

“When are you going to tell me why you call me that?” you questioned, shaking your head.

“I don't call you just that, i call you Miss,” he corrected.

“Fine,” your eyes rolled into their sockets, “when are you going to tell me why you call me Miss?”

“Once I will know why you were so adamant on being first.”

It was a war of stubbornness, two obstinate relentless people who wouldn't give in for anything in the world. You chuckled, letting yourself fall back into bed with a heavy sigh.

“Have a good night, Miss."

You stirred under your blanket. “Have a night, Moravec.”

There was a moment of silence before you felt a thump under your mattress, hitting right in your back.

“Hey!” You huffed indignantly as you leaned to the side again to stare at him.

He had his cane in hand, depositing it back on the floor as if nothing had happened.

“Are you trying to destroy our pseudo-friendship?” you articulated.

His brows furrowed before his eyes met yours again. “Pseudo? Since when did we demote to the term pseudo?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. This had never been the case, but the fact that he had a reaction when it came to this detail softened you slightly.

“Fine,” you nodded in agreement, ”we haven't demoted.”

But he wasn't about to let this one go, leaning over the side of his bed so he didn't have to tilt his head to talk to you every time. “What would confirm our friendship in your eyes?”

The question left you speechless. What did you want from this friendship? Was it attention? Time? Complicity?

Seeing you dwell on the subject, he squinted. “New clause to the the friendship clause list, we shall always be honest to each other, no matter how much it hurts.”

“I wasn't about to lie,” you corrected.

“Alright then tell me,” Viktor demanded.

“I...” you began, but what did you really want?

Never before had you had a friendship like this one, having had such a different and complex arrival in your life as Viktor, and you found yourself bereft of reference points.

“I don't want our friendship to be rushed,” you admitted, "I know I'm not the easiest to be around, nor the nicest, but," a small piece of skin rising from around one of your fingernails had your full attention as you tried to get rid of it, ”I really want to be your friend. I think I...” you sighed before regaining his gaze, ”I admire you, Viktor. Truly. And I know it's going to take me a while before I can consider myself as your equal and accept that someone like me can be the friend of someone like you.”

His lips parted, his eyes blinking a few times. Maybe you'd said something stupid after all.

Your cheeks warmed, and you looked away, ready to lie down. “Forget it.”

“I admire you too.”

You froze in your tracks, your eyes finding his again. They were soft, sincere.

“What?” The word came out of your mouth, feeling as if you'd heard it wrong and simply couldn't take in the information.

His chest swelled with a deep breath. “You,” he began, his eyes resting on the cover of his book, his index finger tracing the ridges of its leather binding, “you are always so determined, so invested in every matter whether big or small. It felt like you were...” his eyes returned to yours, rising to your height, ”unreachable.”

Your heart felt soft, his revelations taking it between warm palms that caressed and coddled it, whispering sweet words you'd never heard and had to discover with gentleness and not stupor.

“The reason why I kept coming to you and try to speak with you was not out of spite of the consequence of my academic results on you, but because...” His eyes were soft in yours, his lips parted. “Who wouldn't want to have you as a friend?”

You felt a strange sensation around the back of your neck, trying to swallow the emotion that was about to twist your throat like a can.

You breathed in, smiling slightly and lowering your voice, hoping that your throat wouldn't hatch something that would brutally shatter this moment. “I'm not that great of a friend.”

He shrugged, “I mean,” his eyes returned to you with the crease of a smile, “you literally beat Tyler's ass after what he did in the hallway.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's because he deserved it.”

“And yet you were the only person who stepped in,” he emphasized, ”twice.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, reconsidering those moments.

“I don't see a single reason for me not to be your friend,” Viktor resumed.

You rested your cheek on the back of your hand. “I spoke to you horribly.”

“So did I,” he remarked.

“I treated you terribly.

“You were frustrated, anyone would react that way.”

“I threatened you,” you smiled.

“With spitting in my coffee and throwing salt at me. Pretty weak threats if you ask me,” he remarked, one eye crinkling as his lips formed an inverted smile.

You arched an eyebrow. “Challenging me to make better ones?”

He smirked, a flash of mischief crossing his eyes. “Do your worst.”

You smiled softly, a light laugh ricocheting in your throat without ever exceeding the limit of your lips. He sighed, his shoulders relaxing.

“I'm proud to be your friend,” he assured.

Your belly flooded with a warm sensation. A thin smile spread across your lips.

“I'm proud to be your friend too,” you confirmed.

You remained silent for a moment, seeming to soak up this truth, these mutually shared words and the clarifications they had brought to your doubts.

“Prouder than a Demacian?” He questioned maliciously.

You smiled with a sigh. “Let's not get patriotic already, we'll have the entire duration of this trip to taste the regret of coming here.”

“Fine,” Viktor admitted, dropping his book on the floor next to his cane, ”let's sleep to face our incoming enemies.”

You nodded, lying back in bed as Viktor turned off his light.

The room, now bathed in darkness, apart from its orange neon sign indicating where the door was, felt silent. You placed your hands on your belly, its warmth soft and new.

“Goodnight, Viktor,” you murmured.

“Goodnight, Miss,” you heard, a smile spreading his lips.

When the ship's general alarm sounded in the room, you woke up with a jolt. It wasn't a pleasant alarm to wake up to, and you hoped it wouldn't be repeated in the next few minutes.

You struggled out of your blanket, wearily climbing down the bed ladder and fumbling towards the sink mirror to admire the undoubtedly pathetic state in which the night had left you.

As you turned on the light, you heard a grunt. You turned towards the bed, Viktor stirring in his bed and folding his pillow over his head. You suppressed a laugh, grabbing your toothbrush to get rid of your morning breath and rearrange your appearance.

By the time you'd finished rinsing your mouth, Viktor was still asleep. You approached him.

“Hey, time to wake up,” you whispered.

He grumbled, lifting his pillow to see who had the audacity to speak to him. Realizing it was you, he promptly folded back his pillow with a sigh, drifting back to sleep. You smiled, imagining the mornings he and Jayce must have spent when Jayce had to drag Viktor out of bed.

“Want me to get you some coffee?” You suggested.

He stirred slightly, huffing. “Only if you make it.”

His voice was low, husky and hoarse with fatigue. You rolled your eyes. “On it.”

You turned off the mirror light, taking advantage of the room's darkness and the meager neon light to change out of his sight. Once this was done, you quietly left the room. 

The corridor was deserted, the other students surely taking their time to wake up. You walked up to the general area, which was practically empty apart from the few members of staff. You approached the counter, asking very politely if you could use their coffee equipment, attesting that you worked in a café and wouldn't damage their material.

They gave you free rein, confirming however that they didn't really have any quality ingredients, just the basics needed for a trip. Still, you managed to find enough to make a mocha, and your usual coffee to wake you up.

The preparation took no time at all, accompanied by the sun waking up over the clouds outside. The world was slowly awakening, and the more or less upright students were already gathering in the common room as you headed back to your cabin, two coffees in hand.

On entering the room, Viktor had at least made the effort to sit up straight, his eyes staring into space and his hair wild. This time, the laughter was harder to suppress and you couldn't help but chuckle.

His eyes left their fictitious points to settle on you, squinting as he frowned.

“Are you mocking me?” He asked.

“I'm not,” you confirmed, stepping towards him, handing him his coffee.

“Why did you laugh then?” He asked, reaching for his cup.

You brought your own coffee to your lips, blowing on it with a smile. “Because of the state of your hair.”

He patted his hair with his free hand, feeling the cowlicks he was going to have to battle with his comb. He sighed at the prospect, bringing the coffee to his lips to take a sip.

He sighed at ease, humming a breath of relief.

“I forgive you,” he articulated.

“Jayce's coffee was that bad?” You sneered.

“No, but your coffee is too good,” he explained, ”my standards will never be the same again.”

There was a knock at the door, and you went to open it. Jayce stood behind it.

“Good morning,” he smiled, looking impeccable as always, ”how was your n- is that coffee?”

His eyes landed on your paper cup.

“Cheers,” Viktor added, raising his coffee cup in the air somewhere behind you. 

Jayce's eyes landed on the latter, seeming outraged. “Where did you get those?”

“I made them,” you confirmed, taking a sip.

“Can I get one?” he asked.

“As if you needed to ask,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” he sighed with great relief, ”but first I'm on a mission to get this one out of bed.” He pointed at Viktor, who finally grabbed his cane to straighten up.

“No need,” the latter confirmed as he walked towards you both, ”the power of a great coffee has done enough to make me rise without a problem.”

You let Viktor change while you waited for him outside the cabin.

“So, how was the night?” Questionned Jayce.

“Slept fine, although I have to say the mattresses are really thin,” you replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

“I wasn't enquiring about the quality of your sleep, I was wondering if you and Viktor had a duel to death before sleep,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Well both of us are still alive, so that must be a positive thing don't you think?”

“I guess,” he said, raising his eyebrows, ”you both seem to be doing oddly good.”

“I thought you'd be happy about that,” you remarked.

“I am, believe me,” Jayce corrected immediately, ”I guess I'm just... surprised that this is going so well all of a sudden.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, your eyes finding a point in the void as you thought back to your conversation last night, ”that's understandable.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his eyes suddenly narrowing in confusion as his lips pouted, “what's this race thing by the way?”

Viktor came out at the same moment. “It's nothing for you to worry about,” he replied instead.

So you returned to the common room for the last bits of information you needed to know about the trip, Heimerdinger displaying his usual energy while half the class was still trying to extricate itself from the arms of sleep.

Your eyes drifted outside, the landscape having changed drastically. Valleys of white stone overlaid with green, while the clear blue water seemed to form a sea of sapphires.

You were sent back to your rooms to stow your suitcases as The Young Prince prepared to land.

“Think the duo we'll get assigned to will be good?” you asked as you and Viktor exited your cabin.

“They could never be better than us,” he asserted, to which you couldn't help but smile.

And so, at last, the small world of the entire class was reunited to exit the Young Prince, its airlock opening onto the small gangway leading you to the dock.

The air was fresh with the scent of flowers and sunshine brought to you by the wind from the sea.

Outside, a group of students were waiting for you, accompanied by what must have been the Academy's headmistress, whom Heimerdinger immediately came to greet. She was a tall, slender woman with long, straight features, her dress strict and asymmetrically impeccable. Her long chestnut braid hung to one side as she shook Heimerdinger's hand, her grey eyes crinkling as her thin lips smiled at him.

Her eyes overhung by fine eyebrows that were the least severe aspect of her face turned to your group once it was fully assembled.

“Welcome, dear students, to Demacia.” She had a flattened accent, her T's straighter against her teeth and her more pronounced R's scraping toward the back of her throat. “I am Diane Lolanthe, the principal of Demacia University.” 

With an elegant wave of her arm, she pointed to the group of students in their white, blue and silver uniforms, in contrast to your own warm-toned ones dotted with gold.

“The students of Demacia are delighted to welcome you among them,” she smiled, her hands joining together, ”I hope their behaviour will match that of those at the prestigious Piltover Academy.”

“Prestigious,” Heimerdinger repeated with a chirp, ”the reputation of our establishment envies many of the attractions of the University of Demacia.”

Your eyes roamed over the group of Demacia students. Many looked almost military in their posture, and you expected nothing less from them. Their reputation was, after all, massively based on their defensive side.

They seemed to be watching you all, some leaning over to whisper in others' ears. Were they making fun of you? Did they already have stupid remarks to share with each other?

Madame Diane and Heimerdinger chatted for a moment, taking out papers and exchanging ideas for a few minutes before straightening up and placing themselves between the two groups.

“Right then,” Diane resumed, bringing a document in front of her, “I have here the list of groups formed for the Demacia pairs.”

“And right here the list of groups formed for the Piltover pairs,” informed Heimerdinger.

“One by one, we'll call the pairs who will be joining each other on the side. Please get ready.”

From both sides, the pairs joined, Viktor and you remaining next to each other as you crossed your arms.

The roll call then began, the Piltover students coming forward first as Heimerdinger whispered information to Diane, no doubt giving the students' profiles to guide her an idea on who might be associable with whom.

As the list dwindled, so came your turn. 

“Moravec and Phathe.”

Viktor and you approached, Heimerdinger sketching a smile and exchanging whispers with Diane, who raised an eyebrow, glancing at the remaining students, and sketching a chuckle.

“Laurent and Crownguard,” she called. 

Demacia's students began to murmur among themselves, some of the quartets already formed being informed by their acolytes. You frowned, your eyes darting to the duo approaching you.

A young lady and a guy about your age came up. The girl had an athletic figure, her gait confident, while her hair, styled in a severe bob with red streaks, framed her breathtakingly beautiful face. The man accompanying her was tall, probably reaching Jayce's height with an imposing, muscular stature, his hair short and brown, his eyes lowered on your duo with curiosity.

“Nice to meet you,” you began, hoping eventually to socialize for once in your life.

The young lady looked you up and down, arching a judgmental eyebrow before moving on to Viktor. She wore her smile like a loaded pistol.

“I take the prince,” she pronounced in an accent similar to Diane's, ”you take the rag.”

You frowned as she walked over to Viktor and picked up his suitcase to free his arm that wasn't holding his cane and wrap her hand around his bicep.

“Shall we?”

Viktor seemed simply at a loss for words as the lady began to pull him towards the rest of the group.

You watched them advance, chuckling as you felt as if you'd been punched in the stomach.

“Excuse her,” sighed the young man who'd stayed by your side, ”she's never had many people put her back in her place in her years of life.”

“No kidding,” you breathed as you both began to move forward to follow them.

“Let me take your luggage,” he offered.

You smiled politely. “Don't worry, if I can't pull my luggage anymore, that makes me a lousy rag.”

“A rag capable of such strength is quite a feat in these cases,” he smiled.

You smiled back, at least one of them was civilized enough to carry on a conversation.

“I'm Garen, by the way,” he introduced himself, offering you his hand, which you came to shake, callused and rough. “And the spoiled brat that just blatantly insulted you is Fiora.”

“Nice to meet you,” you asserted before introducing yourself in turn. 

Once you'd arrived with the rest of the group, you reached Fiora and Viktor. The girl gave you a sharp look, and you returned it, the other students around you observing the scene.

This was going to be a special stay.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

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[starboye]

starring: hugh jackman x male reader

request: HAIIIII sooo i havent seen any hugh jackman x male reader at all and i wanna request for it hehe so it goes like this hugh basiclly meets reader a coffee shop worker and hugh baiscally keep going to that same cofee shop everyday until one day things get heated between them and they end up togetherrrr

warnings: fluff, kissing, mentions of sex

directors note: am i proud of this fic? not really but i wanted to post something for you guys today

having to work at a pretty shitty coffee shop was bad but at least it paid the bills so you cant complain to much and you got to meet some nice people along the way i guess and what do you know, one of those nice people end up being the famous hugh jackman himself.

although you didn't notice seeing as it was in the middle of your regular afternoon rush, he had ordered a simple black coffee which ended up tasting pretty bad but watching you glide around the kitchen taking everyone's orders and making drinks was so... so... i cant find the words for it but you know what i mean right?

he ended up coming back the next day when it wasn't as packed and he could actually learn your name "hi sir what can i get for you today" you asked looking up at the bulky and fine man who had a soft smile on his face as your eyes met his "can i just try a pastry this time" he chuckle remembering how bad the coffee was.

which begs the question of why did he come back if the main thing the shop sells is bad, maybe it's to see your delightful face smiling at him or maybe it's to really taste the pastries and see if those are good, it could really go either way (we know what he really wants).

"will that be all for you" you ask typing in his order and in a moment of hugh not thinking he blurts out "can i get your number too" without thinking, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth before just handing you the cash and backing away.

he was thinking of just walking out the door without his food and never coming back after that slightly embarrassing moment, but imagine his surprise when you hand his the pastry with your number written on the box "call me anytime" it said below it and his heart skipped a beat watching you give him a little wink.

he struggled to find when he should call you, to nervous that you might not remember him or that you wont like him but seeing as he really liked you he just pushed through the nervousness and typed in your number, hearing the phone ring longer and longer had him dying inside, but just when he was about to call it quits you picked up the phone.

"hello" he heard you speak "hi i-im the guy that asked for your number at the coffee shop" he stammered out, crossing his fingers hoping that you remembered him "oh yeah you" the memory snapped back into your head quickly "what's up" you happily said, keys jingling in your hand to get you into your apartment.

"i was just calling to say hey" hugh said, you could hear the nervousness in his voice and chuckled lightly "well hey to you too" you said and with that hugh ended the call, heart nearly pounding out of his chest.

he still continued going to the coffee shop even if it was pretty bad but at least he got to see your cute smile and you guys had mini dates hangouts in the store, just drinking some coffee and talking about your day.

until one day where you asked him to come over and help you close the shop seeing as everyone else had left early and it was a lot to get done (fuck a health code violation) hugh showing up within minutes if it meant it was just gonna be you and him alone.

after some time of cleaning of the counters and flipping chair along with sweeping the floor (the mopping can be done another day) you and hugh talked over a drink, both of you leaning against the counters "thanks for helping me out" you say giving him a little nudge on the shoulder "it was no problem really" he laughed "i wonder how i could repay you" you hinted at something else.

"no you really dont ha-" his words were cut off by you kissing him, your lips crashed against his until his hands found their way to your hips, lifting you up into his arms and carrying you to the storage room where you fucked the rest of the night, but at least the commute to work in the morning was quick.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[arriansarchive]

Bottom!Dom!Carl Gallagher/Male!Top!Sub!Milkovich!Reader

This one's been in my mind for a while but I haven't acted upon my urges

Warnings since I forget to do them a lot: edging, pinching??? painplay????, other smut stuff, getting caught

Like season 10/11??? It doesn't really specify or anything but he's an adult

I've also decided to switch my name tag from y/n to m/n so yeah (i might forget in later stories so idk)

I used the word cock again be proud. im evolving

Summary: Porn

A simple day for junk food and TV programs. Well, that's what it was supposed to be before Carl got any bright ideas as usual.

Mickey had chaperoned you over to the Gallagher house after a job interview to help him with a few things, but you ended up just sitting with your boyfriend for a while. It wasn't the most productive thing you could be doing though nobody cared but Mickey.

By this time you both had gotten a few drinks down, and you were successfully quite tipsy. Not drunk to the point of delirium but not all there either.

You were barely paying attention to the TV until a rather heated, weirdly even, sex scene popped up. Carl laughed a little before leaning back in his seat.

A few minutes went past and in the corner of your eye you saw Carl stiffen, his mouth in a straight line. He seemed uncomfortable.

"You good?" You lolled your head over from the back of the couch to stare deeply at him.

He looked over at you, seemingly contemplating something before he lunged at you with full force. Carl pushed you back onto the couch vigorously with a elated look, straddling you.

"Don't tell me that shitty sex scene actually got to you." You rolled your eyes, but your breath automatically hitched whenever he grinded against you.

You tried to maneuver your way out from under him, but Carl held you down with such force that you didn't know where it even came from.

"I'm not going under today." He declares while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" You crossed your arms behind your head and yawned.

"You'll see." He muttered once he finally tugged his shirt over his head.

Carl started to unbutton the fancy shirt you had spent pretty much all your money on for your interview, but he decided to leave it on even after it was fully unbuttoned. Fucking in style or something like that.

He pressed his mouth up to yours needily. His hands were roaming your body and pinching you at random spots, making you flinch and groan into your boyfriend's mouth

You gasped lightly into Carl's mouth as his hands traveled down your dress pants, palming you roughly through your boxers. He had an evil smirk on his face.

"If you're this hard from me just doing that then you'd better prepare yourself." He whispered in your ear seductively.

You whimpered at the cold air whenever his hand left you, and your pants and boxers were pulled down.

Carl drug his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly for about a minute before teasing the tip with his thumb. The pad was circling the slit which was leaking steadily.

You were barely able to contain your noises of displeasure whenever he pulled away completely to take his own pants off but couldn't help to wonder what he was going to do next.

Suddenly he bent down from the couch and pulled out a few lube packets from one pocket of his pants.

"Were you planning this?" You managed to get out with a shakey voice.

He grinned. "Of course I was."

Carl was notorious for pain play with you. He loved doing it probably more than he loved normal sex without it, so no stretching wasn't a problem with him as he was usually the bottom.

He spread the lube over you, massaging around the base and tip mostly since he knew you were the most sensitive there.

You both groaned loudly in unison whenever he started to lower himself onto you. You were basically in agony from how slow he was going, and you could tell he was too.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the ecstasy that enveloped you at even the slight movement of his hips up and down on you. He had a maniacal look in his eyes.

He raised his legs up to where your tip was about to slip out and then slammed back down into you. Carl started a steady pace of this, not too fast but not too slow.

Both of your whimpers and groans were filling the silent, empty living room. Now that most of the Gallaghers were adults they weren't in the house a lot

Carl felt his wits end coming closer with each passing thrust, but yours was going even quicker. He had always noticed you were louder whenever you were about to finish.

Your hips spasmed as you came into Carl. He continued to bounce, chasing his orgasm while overstimulation engulfing your senses

Thick white ropes shot out of Carl rapidly with a loud scream of pleasure. You felt yourself start to harden once more and almost groaned in exhaustion.

He collapsed onto your chest, not bothering to take your cock out of him for the time being. It was silent until you both heard footsteps approach from the back door.

"Carl, what the hell are you doing?" A female voice yelped from the back of the couch.

"Tuning you out. What the hell does it look like?" He opened one eye passively and shrugged.

"Well, it looks like your fucking Mickey Milkovich's brother."

"That part is true too."

Your face flushed in embarrassment as Debbie and Carl argued back and forth about Franny's wellbeing and other concerns about fucking on the Gallagher house's couch. The words vomit and piss were used too much for your liking.

Ian's cackle became apparent from the kitchen along with Mickey's heavy footfalls.

"You fuckin' my brother, Gallagher?" He called.

You both decided to take your second round down to the basement. It's safe to say you got teased about it for a while after that.

[jo6hny]

Hell Week - Hazel Callahan

Pairing: College! Hazel Callahan x College! Reader 

Contains: FLUFF, idiots in love, studying, hazel being the sweetest girl there is, a few kisses here and there

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Finals week is upon you and your girlfriend saves the day. Based on this prompt: "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?”

A/N: i'm gonna take like the smallest break after this bc writer's block is kicking my ass and my week is packed with meetings im so sorry but i'll probs post another fic next week!

The library was buzzing and filled with students this time of the year, you included. Hell week was upon the university and every person was gearing up and praying to gods and entities they believed in. You, however, only prayed to yourself. You didn’t want to put the blame of failing towards a god that probably didn’t care or know about what was happening. Which is why your nose has been buried in between countless textbooks for the past few hours. 

“Oh my god.” You exclaim tiredly as you slam the book in front of you shut. Your eyes burned from all that reading so you decided to close them for just a few minutes, setting an alarm. As your eyes were shut, your other senses heightened in return. Students all around you were buzzing like bees in a hive as they tried to retain information. From afar, your nose could pick up the scent of snacks. Cheesy snacks in particular. This made your stomach growl and you realize that you haven’t gotten a bite to eat in the whole 5 hours you’ve been here. 

The scent of flowers enters your system, masking those of the cheesy snacks. Startled, you open your eyes and see your girlfriend Hazel in front of you with a bouquet in hand as well as a plastic bag. 

“Hello beautiful!” She says excitedly. Both of you haven’t seen each other in a few days due to your need to study for finals. As much as you loved your girlfriend, you also loved getting high grades and appraisal from your peers so you had to sacrifice time away from her. 

A smile spreads on your face at the sight of her. She looked breathtaking. Hazel was wearing her usual get up of baggy pants and a button down polo shirt with kiss mark designs. On her neck was the silver chain you got her for her birthday. Hazel Callahan, a sight for sore eyes. 

“Hi my love, pleasure seeing you here.” You say, wiggling your eyebrows at her. You weren’t supposed to see each other til after finals. Nonetheless, you welcomed her appearance. 

“I know, I just wanted to see you for a bit. I’ll just be dropping these off.” She gestures to the things on her hands. Her left hand has a bouquet of flowers, daisies. Her right had a plastic bag of food and some strawberry milk. 

“And what is that?” You reply, pointing to the flowers. There wasn’t a special occasion, at least not that you remembered. And it wasn’t like you forgot an anniversary, you had quite a good memory. It was something you were proud of and something that was beneficial to your relationship since Hazel tends to forget things easily. 

"I brought you flowers." 

“For what?” 

"There has to be a reason?”

You bite your lip at the sweet gesture from your girlfriend, fighting off a smile. Hazel knew you like the back of her hand. It was like she had developed a sixth sense for your needs. The thought of her going out of her way made you beam with pride. Hazel was seriously the best girlfriend ever and you mean this without exaggeration. 

“I guess not.” You sigh, motioning her to sit beside you on the empty chair. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you missed Hazel too. Your heart yearns for her in every way and she fills your thoughts from morning till night. How could you not miss her presence when she had occupied every state of your being? 

Hazel happily makes her way beside you but not before setting down her gifts on your table. Lucky for the both of you that the table you had was a two seater. You could ogle and flirt with Hazel all you want without having to earn weird stares from people if you shared a table. 

You wasted no time in enveloping the brunette in your arms as she sat down next to you. Taking in her scent, you sigh in content. She smelled like citrus and sunshine. People would expect Hazel to wear masculine perfume because of her appearance but she smelled like citrus. She smelled like the first whiff of a newly peeled orange and of sweet lemonade on a hot summer’s day.  Hazel had a scent that was unique to her own. 

“I’m really glad you’re here.” You murmur as you bury your nose on the crook of her neck. Hazel tightens her arms around you and squeezes you lightly as she does. That was a mannerism she had. Squeezing you lightly as if to confirm that you’re real. You notice that she does it too whenever your hands are intertwined. She would squeeze your hand thrice as if saying I love you. 

“I thought you’d be mad at me, actually.” She mumbled, closing her eyes. Hazel needed this as much as you did. She couldn’t imagine what life was like before you. All the memories she has now centered around you. 

You shake your head, eliciting a giggle from your partner as your hair tickles her chin. 

“Never. I was having such a hard time too. My head hurt and I got hungry.” 

Hazel hummed in response. She already knew that you would get this way as you studied further. She was observant, after all. The brunette girl dedicates most of her time to knowing you and making your life easier. She loves showing you how much she cares and how much she loves you. Hazel wasn’t afraid to express her fondness, especially of you. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The annoying sound of your alarm knocks you out of reality. Time was up and you needed to go back to studying. Unfortunately, this meant that yours and Hazel’s time was up too. You groaned at the thought of separating with her but the grade conscious part of your mind nagged at you. 

“I have to go?” Hazel asks, her tone dejected. You could physically feel your heart cracking as you heard her words. 

“I’m so sorry my love. But I’ll see you tomorrow, how about that?” 

“But I thought we couldn’t see each other til finals were over?”  

“I would break all of my rules for you, Hazel.” You admitted. 

The brunette girl could feel her cheeks warm up at your confession. She nods and kisses your lips chastely. Her eyes sparkled and her mood was uplifted at the thought of seeing you again so soon. 

“Promise you’ll see me again tomorrow?” Hazel stuck her pinky out to you as a way of confirming your promise. 

Linking your pinky with hers, you decide to take it a step further and give her a  kiss to fully seal the deal. 

“I’m taking that as a yes.” Hazel mumbled against your lips. She tasted like orange soda, the only type of soda she would ever drink. Her lips tasted sweet and tangy and very much intoxicating. If you weren’t in the library, you were sure that clothes had been strewn all over minutes ago. 

Breaking off the kiss (much to your dismay), Hazel stands from her seat and pats your head as a goodbye. In return, you take her hand and kiss it farewell. An ache in your heart surfaced as you saw her walking away. Turning back to your table, you take notice of the gifts Hazel brought over. How you managed to snag a girl like that, you didn’t know. But you were grateful to all the gods out there for giving you the sweetest and caring girl ever. No amount of thanks is enough for Hazel’s presence. 

[didi-writes]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do some fluffy headcanons for mammon, and beel with a chubby reader who gets insecure if they still like them?

Thank you sm 🫶🏻

꒰🎶੭・how beel and mammon reassure insecure reader hcs .

characters : 3,297

warnings: mentions of insecurities, feeling upset over your appearance and slight jealousy feelings.

notes : a little angst + fluff , gender neutral reader hi!! hopefully you like them ^^ i apologize for not really making em headcanons though, hope that's not an issue. not proofread so sorry for any possible grammar mistakes.

— Beelzebub .

As of recently you had been feeling quite down about your appearance, insecurities were still something that would torment your thoughts every now and then. And today was another one of those days.

Beel noticed how you were more kept to yourself as he gulfed down another cheeseburger. He stared at you before speaking. "Y/N??" he asks. Beel noticed your rather sad expression as you looked up at the red haired demon sitting in front of you on his bed.

"are you sad Y/N??.." Beel asked softly, focusing his attention on you. As you sighed his expression softened further. "do you still...like me? at all? i mean, i feel so unattractive sometimes Beel" you replied quietly.

Beel furrowed his brows as soon as he heard you talking negatively about yourself. "Y/N. did someone make u feel this way?" he asks, his vibe shifting from concern to serious.

"No..just myself i guess" you'd reply, staring back at the guy. His expression softens again as he pulls you into his arms up onto his lap. Beel wraps his arms around your figure, resting his chin onto your shoulder, his hold firm.

"Yes, i do still like you. you make me feel warm on the inside. You make me feel full, but in a different way than food does and when im with you i always feel better Y/N. And i think you are very attractive, you're so soft and i love holding you...i love you Y/N..a lot, please do not feel this way, i will always like you" Beel replied, his firm hands softly caressing your stomach and sides as he continued to hold you. He kissed your shoulder and smiled when he heard you let out a soft sigh, relaxing into his hug.

He would spend the rest of his day around you and making sure you know he only has eyes for you! (and food of course)

— Mammon .

Mammon and you were together in his room like usual, hanging out. He counted his money he had earned from his recent modelling gig. He got up and stretched, letting out a happy sigh. "Y/N!! Your oh-so very great and amazing boyfriend earned 7,000 Grimm! aren't ya proud of me?" He said, turning around to face you.

You looked up, lost in thought as you forced a quick smile nodding as Mammon waved the bills around. "mhmm, good job" You'd add, your tone slightly upset, which Mammon took notice of.

"What's got ya so down?.." He asked, plopping down onto the couch next to you. You sigh and shake your head, telling him it's nothing. Mammon didn't let go of it and got closer towards you, speaking in a soft manner. "cmon..what's wrong??".

"Do you still like me?? i mean..im not even remotely as good looking as the people you're constantly surrounded with" You said, staring at Mammon. He furrowed his brows, his hands moving to your face to cup your cheeks.

"How dare ya believe the great Mammon wouldn't like you Y/N. i very much like you...you're the most attractive looking person in all 3 worlds to me. I wouldn't dare think otherwise, your my human, and you always will be....i love you.." He replies, muttering the 'i love you'

Mammon pulled you closely, hugging you tightly as he softly petted your head. "I wouldn't wish to have anyone else in my arms rn...your beautiful/handsome Y/N, i mean it." He added, placing a kiss onto your head. You looked up at him, noticing his cheeks flushed red. You smiled, hugging him back as he denied his blush.

thank you sm for reading! have a great day or night ♡

[amymbona]

What if Dilf!Art was put into the ballet instructor au?? Like After the tennis match that Art and Patrick had, that hugged confirmed a friendship again. Of course Art and Patrick retired, tired of the pressure tennis put on them, the pressure of being with Tashi. So Art and Patrick remained close friends, living close to each other, having their daughters be friends. When Patrick put Eleanor into ballet classes Art thought it would be good for Lily to something different than her dad and mom did. So both of the girls had ballet classes, being in the class, being taught by the same lovely ballet teacher. Now Patrick was the one who absolutely fell in love with her first, if we’re doing timelines. He talked about her to Art, and he really didn’t think anything of it, because he didn’t pay much attention, not when he would go picking up his happy daughter with her arms interlocked with Eleanor’s as they skipped towards him and Patrick. But when the ballet teacher spoke softly to Art about Lily’s improvements in ballet he immediately understood Patrick’s obsession. She was so soft and caring, so youthful, it was something Art definitely needed throughout his life. Art thought the same things Patrick did, that she was the one who could probably take away all of his problems, all of those days he’d eat such bland food for his tennis diet, pushing himself so he could make Tashi proud, doing anything for Tashi but nothing was ever enough, she wanted good tennis and he wanted love. (IM SORRY, I WANT BOTH MEN)

Okay so this is actually fucking insane 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

You don't even notice their growing affection towards you, especially Art's. You've known Patrick for quite a while and so you're used to him being, how to say it... friendly. Really fucking friendly. Subtly touching you, complimenting the way you treat his darling daughter and make sure she gets to develop her talent.

And poor Art is feeling completely distressed, as if he wasn't capable of even half of whatever Patrick can do. He tries to joke with you and you respond equally as softly, even giggling at some of his silly jokes. He thinks you're an angel, but he's also afraid you like Patrick more. At least you don't make any decisions considering the kids, because you've been treating his Lily as if she was here since the beginning.

Art brings the topic of you once, when the boys are alone, which is the first time that it happens (as Patrick was usually the one to rant about you).

"She's really pretty."

"Who?" Patrick asks without looking up from his phone, probably thinking he's talking about some random celebrity.

"Lily and El's ballet teacher," Art mumbles.

Patrick teases the living hell out of Art that evening. And he makes sure to pay attention to his blonde friend's behaviour the next time they go to pick their girls up from practice. A pleasant discovery is made when Art stutters as he attempts to respond to something your say and his cheeks heat up like two full strawberries. Yeah, he makes fun of it.

But it also gets poor Patrick worried, considering everything that has happened over the last fifteen years... When Art got chosen by Tashi and favored by the whole tennis industry. The cutest one of the two. And considering your own softness and the ethereal aura of your being, he's thinking you might choose Art over him.

Without knowing or ever discussing it, the two friends become jealous of once another, or rather afraid, both of them finding themselves so deeply attached to you. Two confident men who used to be so smug and full of themselves are reduced to worried babies that can't help but feel neglected.

Luckily, their smart girls pick up on their dads' distress. Unaware of the reason, they play detectives and they dump their suspicionw on you. When you're talking with Art and Patrick the next time while the girls are changing in the locker rooms, you bring that topic up.

"The girls told me that you two have been having some issues. They said that you look worried. Is something going on?"

You speak to them like you're an angel sent from the heavens above, they really both want to drop to their knees and cry until you decide to be merciful enough and take them into your arms. The little frown of worry on your face and the crease between your brows are enough to send both of their hearts beating faster.

"Worried?" Patrick asks with a casual chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Do we look worried Art?"

You asshole, Art thinks, shooting his friend a glance. "I- I don't think so. Perhaps we're just getting older. A mid-life crisis, you know."

A giggle from your mouth gets them both to tremble on their feet.

"Okay, okay, I won't pry," you assure them with a nod and that beautiful smile of yours, "But if you feel like talking to someone, don't be afraid to reach out."

You pat both of their shoulders delicately, Art just ends up glancing at you with an open mouth as you move while Patrick has to physically prevent himself from grabbing you and stopping you from walking away.

Later in the evening, when their girls are asleep, they discuss your existence over the phone. Luckily, still on the best friend wavelength, they both come up with the same ideas. Somehow getting you close to them, closer than a normal ballet teacher should be to her students' parents, especially a father. Especially two fathers.

[https-florals]

i know what you tell your friends - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 4.6k

summary: you’re losing your rules and all your resolve.

warnings: suggestive, angsty?? fanon rafe, protective rafe, misogyny, catcalling, kelce and topper being rude and nasty, drunk rafe, showering together but not in a sexy way, cursing, rafe yelling at you, rafe being a swiftie for fun, shitload of toxicity

a/n: I GOT VERY CARRIED AWAY ITS SO LONG!! hopefully y’all like this even tho there is no kissing or sexy times 😳 im v proud of this little miniseries!!!! pt3 will hopefully be in the works soon! read on beautiful people!

Rafe has never been good at following rules. It’s just not his thing. Parts of him simply forget restrictions, his mind deciding what it wants and his body following. Other times, he looks at a rule like a dare: he breaks them out of pure spite.

He can’t tell which reason is making him push the limits with you. 

It’s a pretty Saturday night at the country club, Rafe and his friends all crowded at a table in the corner of the club restaurant. He’s hoping that you’re not working and simultaneously praying you are.

Much to his chagrin (enjoyment?) you’re the first to bounce over to his table, pulling out your notepad and pen before you look up at the customers.

Rafe is painfully aware of the way your breathing hitches, your smile not quite reaching your eyes when you realize who is seated at your table. 

“How are y’all? What can I get started for ya?” You’re the damn picture of a perfect waitress, short black skirt stretched over your thighs and white polo purposefully unbuttoned. Rafe is thinking that there’s definitely a porno about something like this when Topper nudges him.

 “Bro? Your drink?”

“Whiskey. Whiskey sour, please,” he says, getting a side-eye from a buddy at how strained his voice is and how he deigned to even say please. 

The only thing he can think about is how pretty you would look with that skirt pushed up about your hips. 

“Dude? The fuck is wrong with you?” Kelce hits Rafe across the chest as you walk away, snapping him out of his stupor.

He blinks hard and shakes his head, like he’s trying to shake rain out of his face. “Nothing, man. I’m just tired.” Lying is currently Rafe’s number one hobby, apparently. First to your face about a multitude of things, now to his best friends. He doesn’t like to think of himself as a dishonest person- the principle of integrity has been drilled into him since he was a kid, and even though he’s managed to shake off a lot of guilt, something about lying to the people he loves grates on his conscience. 

Not that he loves you, or anything. 

When you come back with their drinks, Rafe tries his hardest to ignore the way his friend’s eyes rake over you. 

You’re so bubbly and customer-service-y as you pass out drinks, smile bright when Topper thanks you for his old-fashioned. A slight twinge of jealousy hits Rafe, and he wishes you’d smile at him like that.

The second you walk away, Topper makes some offhand comment about how he couldn’t help but look straight down your shirt when you gave him his drink, and Rafe bites back a comment about how Topper wasn’t worthy of that smile you gave him. He focuses on picking out what he wants to eat.

Rafe drifts in and out of the conversation with his boys, but mostly watches you as you go from table to table. You’re back for their food order, and it’s almost like you’re avoiding making eye contact with him. 

Topper is leering at you, Kelce is being rude to you, they’re all being dickheads, but who is the one person you aren’t even looking at? Rafe.

As you leave, Kelce grins. “She’s fine as hell, Top. You see the way she looked at you?”

The boy’s cheeks tint pink as he takes a sip of his drink. “Practically begging for it,” he chuckles.

Rafe is silent as Kelce howls for no damn reason, slapping the table as a joke that just isn’t funny.

“Man, this is your opportunity,” Kelce chirps as you walk from table to table. “Ask her if she’s doing anything after her shift!”

Topper throws his hands up, attempting to act bashful but the bold smile on his face betrays it. “What am I supposed to say, dude?” He shifts his tone, making it nauseatingly breathy and smooth. “C’mon, babe, let me give it to you right,” Topper practically moans in her direction, sending Kelce into another howling fit.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe groans, slouching in his chair and downing the rest of his sour. His friends are insufferable, he knows that. He’s never really cared before, in fact he himself often goes along with their lewd jokes- flirting with club staff, making gestures behind their backs. Why it’s just now grating on him so hard, he doesn’t know.

If the boys hear him, they don’t act like it. They’ve moved onto horrific pickup lines.

“If I flip a coin, what are my chances of getting ahead?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine, you be the six, I’ll be the nine!”

Rafe sighs, wishing he had at least two more drinks sitting in front of him. “Can you not? You’re acting like douchebags.” His words are coated with annoyance. He sounds like a mother chiding her boys.

“Who pissed in your cereal, man?” Topper scoffs. “We’re just messing around. You’ve been so tight lately, bro. You usually eat this kinda bullshit up.”

It’s true, but it makes him cringe. He’s been guilty of the very thing he’s angry at them about, and it’s probably the reason you think he’s a shit person. 

Kelce laughs. “You’re just mad she ain’t looking at you, dickwad.”

They’ve finally shut up by the time you come back with their food, much to Rafe’s relief. 

His hand just barely brushes yours when you hand him his plate, and you jolt so hard that the club sandwich almost slides off. There’s a flash in your eyes like you’re hoping he doesn’t notice, but of course he does. 

He notices everything about you. 

He also notices the way your skirt shifts up as you move, and Rafe resists the urge to reach out and tug it down. 

You clear your throat as you set everything else down, wiping your hands on the front of your skirt, pushing it down a little.

Thank God.

“Okay, gentlemen! Anything else we need?” You smile, and Rafe thinks that he needs you to kiss him like, right this second, but he bites his tongue and shakes his head.

You’re just about to turn away when Kelce clears his throat, saying, “One more thing I need to know, miss!”

It’s like he’s talking in slow motion. Every part of Rafe is filled with an inexplicable dread as he begins to speak.

“Job policy make you wear this?”

You pause, a little perplexed frown on your face. “No, I just wear an Island Club polo for fun.”

Kelce grins, and runs his hand down your arm, not faltering at your tone and not even when you jerk away. “Strictly that? Nothing else?”

You’re preparing for some lewd joke about whether or not your wearing panties.

“You need some more… accessories.” He grins, innocent when he looks up at you. “I’ve got one that would look great in your mouth.”

Rafe’s vision goes a little red when your jaw drops open. He stands up quick and slams his palms on the table. “Get the fuck out, man.”

“Has that ever worked for you?” you blurt incredously as Rafe moves around you. His hand tucks on your waist as he slides you away from Kelce, but you pretend not to notice.

Kelce gasps when Rafe grabs him by the sleeve to pull him out of the restaurant. 

“Dude! Chill out!” Topper protests.

The look on Rafe’s face scares you a little when he whips around to look at Topper, snapping, “You wanna quit acting like a douchebag, or do you want me to haul your sorry ass outta here too?”

Topper flushes and sits. 

“Don’t ever let me catch you talking like that to any of these girls here, alright?” Rafe is seething as he pushes Kelce into the club bathrooms. The other boy’s jaw is dropped open, nodding his head. 

Rafe knows he can be scary. Right now, he uses that to his advantage, hand fisted in the collar of Kelce’s shirt as he towers over him. 

Kelce is trying to break free, but Rafe refuses to budge. “You are gonna go back out there and say you’re sorry, and then leave her the biggest tip she’s ever seen. Got it?” 

The shorter boy nods fervently when Rafe lets go of him, and practically sprints back to find you.

Rafe steps out of the bathroom, leaning up against the wall as he watches Kelce find you and apologize. Your eyes are wide while he’s talking to you, and you give him a timid smile right before he walks away.

Rafe hates him. He hates the way he spoke to you, and hates the way you don’t punch him in the dick. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, he thinks.

When you walk away from Kelce, Rafe follows you before even really thinking about it.

You’re finally within reach and he grabs your wrist, spinning you to face him.

Yanking your arm away from him, you hiss, “What are you doing?” The stilted customer-service kindness is gone.

“I’m sorry my friends are assholes,” he whispers, taking a step back from you, his hands up like he’s begging you not to shoot.

Your shoulders sag. “It’s not your fault, Rafe. You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I do,” he says, voice thin. “I acted like that, before, and now they think it’s cool to be dicks.”

“Before?”

Before you, he thinks, but doesn’t say. 

“I try not to be like that anymore,” Rafe says instead. He holds his hand out like a peace offering, and you accept it, your palm sliding against his in an awkward shake.

“Friends?” He asks, soft and questioning.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you joke, not quite catching the way Rafe frowns. “I gotta go. Text me later, okay?”

He promises he will, then he’s moping back to his table, where he slaps down two fifties and makes Kelce add two more to the pile. The boys are gone before you can even offer a check.

You get off late, heading back to the Chateau drained. You pass on a game of poker with your friends for a shower, receiving a boo from John B and several rude names from JJ.

After a good half-hour shower and coating your body in lotion, you’re feeling up for cards, and settle at the table with a glass of apple juice.

“Ooh, now that is hard liquor,” Sarah comments, teasing as she deals you in.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight. Y’know, in case I have to drive anywhere.”

“Where would you be driving?” Pope asks, and you shrug in return, even though you know exactly where.

“She’s gotta see her little kook boyfriend,” JJ says, but there’s a bite to his words.

“Not my boyfriend,” you state, hands up.

Kiara makes a face, but you don’t miss it.

“Guys. We are strictly just fucking.”

“Ew! I don’t wanna hear about that shit!” JJ shouts, and the rest of the table makes disgusted noises.

You look at him with an incredulous expression. “Can a girl not get laid anymore without everyone having to give a damn opinion? We are just messing around!”

“It’s not like he’s the absolute worst,” Sarah ventures, her hand sneaking over yours.

John B frowns at her while JJ chimes in, saying. “Sarah. I know he’s your brother, but he is actually the worst.”

“He’s getting better!’ She defends, voice high.

Almost like he knows he’s the subject of your conversation, Rafe’s caller ID pops up on your phone. You motion for everyone to be quiet, and answer it. Your volume is up and for once the Pogues are so quiet that they can hear the other line without you even putting it on speaker.

Rafe croons your name over the phone, one, two, three times before you can say anything.

“Rafe?”

“Hey, baby!” There’s a crackle and the sound of fabric shuffling against the speaker. “Shit. I’m not supposed to call you that.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, though it's more of a scold than a question.

“I need your help,” he says, and you can hear music in the background. “Top was supposed to  be my DD, and I can’t find him.”

“Are you drunk? How many shots  have you had?”

Rafe doesn’t answer you, but keeps rambling. “Sarah didn’t answer any of my texts, and I don’t know who else to call.”

Sarah’s eyebrows knit together and she checks her phone, turning it so you can see that she has no notifications from her brother.

“Come pick me up? Please?”

There’s a moment of silence on your end, and Rafe repeats, “Pretty please.”

He says your name again, so soft it makes your heart ache. “I need you.” 

You sigh and stand up, JJ throwing his hands up in exasperation, but having the courtesy to remain silent. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Send me the bar and for the love of God, don’t drink anymore!”

“You’re the best,” Rafe answers, and doesn’t hang up, so you have to hit the button.

You’re rushing out the door, ignoring your friend’s remarks and jabs.

“I”m not letting you in when you get back here at the asscrack of dawn,” John B warns as you grab your keys.

You ignore him and race out to your car. When you get to the bar, Rafe is sitting outside on the steps, head between his hands. 

You park illegally in front of the entrance, ignoring the loud honk from a car. Rafe’s face lights up when he sees you hop out of your car, and starts to stumble toward you. He trips when he’s just a few feet away from you, and you stick your arms out to stop his fall. It doesn’t quite work, and the breath is knocked out of you when your back hits the metal of your car door.

Rafe jerks back, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He’s inspecting you like you’re an apple in a grocery aisle- spinning you around, checking for bruises.

You nod, and make an odd little squawking noise when he hugs you tight and effectively takes your breath away a second time.

“I missed you,” he exhales into your hair, and you realize just how drunk he is.

You pull away, squinting up at the redness in his face. “How many drinks did you have?”

He shrugs and grins, eyes stuck on your lips, unashamed. “Too many.”

Blowing out a breath, you open the car door and help him in. “I can tell. Arms in, bud.”

There is too much sweetness in your tone, but you realize it a little too late, and can’t find it within yourself to even care.

When you slide into the driver’s seat, he slumps over the center console, head nestled on your shoulder and his hand slipping to your knee.

Spotify is shuffling all of your favorite Taylor Swift songs, and you notice about halfway through the drive that Rafe is quietly singing along. 

His fingers idly play with the frayed hem of your sweatshorts, humming, “if I showed up to your party, would you have me, would you want me…” It’s a little slurred, but he hits every note right.

“Didn’t know you were a swiftie,” you joke, pressing your cheek to the top of his head.

He shakes his head, but laughs all the same. “I let Sarah have aux whenever I gotta drive her places. She really likes the album that’s like, blue, and it’s got all those songs about Harry Styles on it.”

“1989?” 

He nods. “She loves that one. Good album.”

“You’re so right.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Rafe is saying your name, whispering it like it’s a taboo word.

“I’m sorry my friends were such assholes earlier.”

“You already apologized. It’s alright, I’ve heard worse.” His face after you say that makes him look like he’s in physical pain. “Seriously, Rafe. Kelce’s question was maybe the most PG thing I heard today. Teenage boys say some wild shit to waitresses.”

He frowns. “I’ll beat those little motherfuckers up. Gimme a list, I’ll rock their shit.”

You tell him no, but you’re laughing. “I don’t need you to protect me, Rafe.”

He shrugs, acting like the phrase just rolls off his shoulders. “I don’t give a shit about what you think you do or don’t need,” he says, too nonchalant.

“Excuse me?” You swerve a little as you whip your head towards him.

Rafe sighs, stretching out in the passenger. The muscles of his thigh tense as he moves, fully on display with his little 5-inch inseam shorts. 

“I’m not repeating it, baby.”

Your chest tightens, breath a little shallow as you keep your eyes on the road. His hands are red hot on your thigh, like his fingerprints are burning into your thigh. You need to push his hand off before he can lay claim on you like that, but you don’t move, his fingers pressing and sliding and flaming. 

“Sarah told me you had a date the other day.” His voice has a little bit of venom. 

“I did,” you confirm, giving him a side-eye.

His profile looks like stone as he stares out the window, streetlights reflecting on his skin. “Why? Who was he?”

“You don’t know him, Rafe,” you sigh. “He’s from the cut. Works with JJ.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek as he laughs. “You and these Pogie assholes. You ever gonna try something different?”

“I have some range. Not just pogues. You’re a Kook asshole, and we get along just great.”

Rafe’s brows narrow. “Get along? You just want to fuck me, that’s why we get along.”

“You’re so right. Good job!” You try to joke.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You jump and swerve at the sudden change in his voice. You’ve heard him yell before, but it’s never been directed at you. “Why are you yelling?” you shout back. You don’t know why your eyes are burning.

“I”m yelling cause you’re a fucking idiot,” he groans, but his hand is still painfully hot on your thigh.

You scoff and push it off. “Shut up, Rafe.”

His jaw tenses and shudders a little. “They’re so shit to you,” he practically cries. “And I’m here. I would be so good to you. Better than any of these dickheads.”

You rub your eyes, telling yourself it's because you're tired and not because you're about to cry. “Why are they dickheads? I think you’re an dickhead.”

“Don’t say that,” he whines.

“What makes them worse than you, Rafe?” you huff.

“Cause they don’t love you like you need to be loved.” He’s looking everywhere but you, and you’re thinking about pulling over because your heart is beating so fast you feel like you might die. Then his eyes finally shift to yours, piercingly blue. They remind you of the waves that break overhead when your surfboard pulls you down under the water.

His fingers are tracking back to your thigh, and you do your best to keep your damn eyes on the road and drive, no matter how hard he’s staring at you. 

“Like I could love you.”

Your knuckles are white on the steering wheel. There’s no words stuck in your throat because you can’t think of any; you’re panicky and you can’t breathe.

His face turns to the window and he begins to hum to the radio. Nothing else is said.

Rafe is still humming when you help him out of the car, his arm slung around your shoulders.

“Thank you for coming and getting me,” he says, breaking the heavy silence when you reach the door.

You stare at him like he’s an alien. He never says thank you. You're still reeling from the car conversation, but you clear your throat and pat his shoulder, like you’re just two buds. “You good from here?”

“No.” He says it so quickly, bottom lip poking out like a little kid. “I need you.”

I don’t give a shit about what you think you need. The thought twinges in your brain, and you stop yourself from saying that you don’t think you need to stay.

“You can at least make sure I don’t like, drown in the bathtub. And get in bed.” He smiles that heartbreaker grin. 

You can’t tell if he’s sober or drunk, or what. You sigh, and push past him, dragging the tall boy in tow. “Fine. No funny business.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gives you a little salute, and stumbles along with you. 

It’s so hard getting Rafe upstairs that you give up on being quiet, and settle for praying that none of the Camerons wake up and catch the two of you. When you finally get to his room, you push him into the bathroom. 

“You reek,” you sigh, shutting the door as quietly as you can. 

“Rude,” he responds, peeling off his shirt.

You try not to watch him shuffle out of his clothes as you turn on the water, running your fingers under the stream and checking the temperature. When it’s warm enough, you turn back to Rafe, doing everything but staring as he stands shamelessly naked in front of you. 

“I- your- The water’s hot.”

He laughs and shuffles past you. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen me naked.”

Your cheeks heat, but you blame it on the rising humidity in the bathroom. After making sure he’s alright, you slip out. 

You pace Rafe’s room, messing with the few trinkets on his desk and marveling at the cleanliness. He has a little oyster shell dish with a little painting of UNC, and a couple of rings lay in it. You’re trying on his signet ring when you hear a thud. 

“Rafe?” you whisper-yell. There’s just the sound of running water. You rush into the bathroom, flicking on the fan to clear a little of the steam. Against your better judgment, you slide open the shower door. Rafe is slumped against the tile wall, eyes shut, mouth open. Dead asleep. You step in, water drenching your clothes as you smack his cheeks, trying to wake him up. “Rafe, when you said I needed to make sure you didn’t drown in the bathtub, I didn’t think you meant literally,” you mutter as you try to push him up and out of the water stream.

His eyes blink open, then roll back, then close again. 

“Rafe! Come on, baby,” you mutter, and smack him again.

His eyes fly open and you jolt back as his lips curve into a grin. “You called me baby.”

You frown. “Did not,” you lie.

“I love when you lie. You’re bad at it.”

Self-righteous asshole, you think. “Sit down,” you instruct him, pointing to the built-in shower bench. He sits, and you squirt some of his shampoo into your palm. You’re pleasantly surprised that it’s not 3-in-1. It even smells good. Standing between his legs, you push the shampoo through his hair, raking your fingernails over his scalp and giggling at all the little moans he lets out. 

Your clothes are soaked, uncomfortably so. Your tee clings to you, and Rafe’s hands fiddle with the hem of it. 

“Why are your clothes on?” He asks, tone genuine.

“Because you’re drunk,” you answer, “and I wanted to keep them on.”

He nods, and you rinse the suds out of his hair. The casual intimacy of the moment hits you hard when Rafe rests his head on your chest. It’s so soft and sweet and so out of the ordinary for the two of you that it’s nearly blindsiding. 

You get him cleaned up, and then track water all over the tiles when you grab towels. He wraps it around his hips, and you shiver as you pull it around your shoulders.

If the shower sobered him up at all, it’s not evident in his attitude towards you, but he is walking a little straighter. Rafe pulls a tshirt out of his drawer, and two pairs of boxers. One pair is for him, and he slides into bed, watching you expectantly.

You stare back at him. “What?”

“Shirt and boxers are for you. You can’t sleep in soaking wet clothes.” 

“Close your eyes.” 

Shockingly, he does, throwing a hand over his eyes without further questioning. 

You strip and don the outfit. The boxers are soft, and there’s a few holes in the collar of the shirt. It’s worn, with a faded Rolling Stones emblem. “I never see you wear this,” you say, and his eyes open, lips pressing together as a smile just flickers over his face. 

“Cause I don’t. It looks good on you.” Rafe’s cheeks are a little pink, and he’s looking at you with pure adoration.

You turn to hide the shakiness of your hands, and sit on the bed to pull on your Tevas before grabbing your keys. “You all good? I gotta head back to the Chateau.”

“No, I’m not good,” Rafe answers with a groan. “You should stay.”

You stare at him, taken aback. “No, I should not. I really need to go back.”

“Why?”

You shrug. A good reason is not floating through your brain at the moment, or at least one that’s real. You could say they need you back for… something. It’s a lie. You could say you have to help JJ with something. Also a lie, plus it would make Rafe mad, you think. Not to mention the fact that you aren’t sure if you and JJ are still on speaking terms after the way he glared at you when you left.

You could always say you don’t want to stay. But damn, that’d be the biggest lie of all.

“I just need to. Rules, remember?” you remind him as an afterthought. 

He sighs, loud and overdramatic. “Rules, schmoolze. Just stay.”

When you fiddle with the strap of your sandals, deciding whether or not to take them off, he reaches for your wrist, fingers hooking on your bracelets.

“I’ll be good,” he whispers. “Promise.”

Well, shit. How can you say no to that?  

Within seconds your shoes are off, keys tossed somewhere, and you’re crawling into bed with him. You’re rigid at first when he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you a little closer.

“Relax. Quit acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“You haven’t like this,” you answer, voice strained.

“Don’t worry. Cuddling up won’t make you fall in love with me,” he huffs, and your leg hooks over him as your head tucks against his chest.

He’s wrong, you think. He’s wrong, and you need to go home. Right now.

But then his hand is on your back, and he’s humming another damn Taylor Swift song, and his thumb is circling your shoulder blade so, so slow.

You’re too far gone to leave now. 

“Comfy?” He stops humming to ask.

You nod, just a little bit, trying to find a place for your gaze to rest. Your options are endless- his eyes, his mouth, his chest- but none of them seem safe. You settle for a freckle on his cheekbone. “What about you?” you ask in return.

“Never been better.”

He’s comfortable in the silence, and you most definitely are not. It’s foreign, being in his bed with your clothes on and a part of him not inside you. You’re not sure how to act about it.

Rafe clearly does, either that or he’s winging it. His hands are soft and soothing all over you, willing you to loosen up. He unwinds the coil in your shoulders, the tightness in the small of your back.

As your eyes start to drift shut, you feel his lips against your forehead.

“Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight,” you repeat.

Your stupid little list of rules is doing nothing.

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!!!! thank you for reading!

[yellowroseswrites]

yo. so i just saw that spencer x reader you wrote featuring an ED. i was wondering if maybe you could write it as an imagine/one shot/whatever but from a different perspective? im struggling with losing weight unintentionally due to drug use and its starting to scare me. last time i was this thin i did have an ED. so would you be able to do one where the reader is just as concerned as spencer about their weight loss? maybe he helps find foods that work for them, encourages them to eat, etc? id love it of spence were cheering me on to finish a bowl of cereal (⋟﹏⋞)

"One more bite?"

Spencer Reid x Reader

Author's notes - {I have quite literally no clue if this is good or accurate, but I did my very best. I did a little research but I still wrote it very vague to avoid as much invalidating as possible. I hope this brings at least a little comfort, and my apologies for any and all inaccuracies}

TW- {Plenty of eating talk, reader eats, Spencer eats, they eat cereal, milk is mentioned, past eating issues are mentioned but barely, Pulp Fiction is mentioned, probably inaccuracies about movies, Dead Poets Society mention, there's a 420 joke but it's from Spencer so it's not really said as a joke, Autistic Spencer Reid, but that's just how I write him,not proofread, if there's any more lmk! love you all please eat some food and drink some water lovelies <3}

“I’m not hungry.”

God, it sounded so sad on your tongue. You wished you could just eat, you really did. You weren’t like you used to be, you didn’t want to be like this. You just wanted to eat.

Spencer’s face fell, but only a bit. He was used to this by now to, your body working against you. Your body craved things that would destroy it, but it refused to accept the things it needed, like food. It was scary for you, and it was positively horrifying for Spencer. He was watching you fight back, but wither away anyway, and he hated it.

"I know you aren't, but it's important that you eat it."

You groaned in annoyance. You knew Spencer was helping, but it was the same thing you've heard over and over again.

Reid seemed to think a bit before moving again, this time pouring milk into his own bowl before putting away the milk and the cereals, (fruit loops for you and raisin bran for him, which he insists helps him remember things during cases).

He came back to his bowl and started eating in front of you, "You like Tarantino movies right?"

"Uh, some of them, why?"

While you spoke he took a bite of his food, signaling with his spoon for you to do the same. Once you grabbed your spoon, he spoke again.

"Did you know that almost every clock in Pulp fiction is set to 4:20? Some people have said that they only have 2 scenes where they are set differently, but to be honest I've never seen it so I wouldn't know."

"Wait a minute," You said, "You have never seen Pulp Fiction?"

"That's what you got from that?"

"Who hasn't seen Pulp Fiction? It's a classic!" You took another bite of the cereal.

"That's what you said about Dead Poets Society." Spencer replied.

To be fair, he had read the book. He knew everything that would happen, it was definitely not your fault he spent the whole time pointing out things they got wrong. You simply nodded your head at his reply, messing with the fruit loops left spinning in your bowl.

"Wanna take one more bite for me?" 

There was barely any left in the bowl, half of you wanted to fight back, and half knew it was stupid and that Reid wanted the same thing you did. You took the bite and slid the bowl over to him, which he quickly took with his to the sink. 

"Ok," You stood up from your seat at the table, "We are totally going to watch it now."

Spencer giggled at your excitement, walking over to you and kissing your forehead. "Uh-hu. Go turn it on, I'll be in in a second."

 

You turned to walk over to the couch when Reid stopped you again, 

"And hey, I'm proud of you."

He gave you a quick smile before you walked off again, and his smile only grew as he washed your empty bowl.

[letters-from-dekarios]

(A letter arrives by way of a Quickling, a tiny fey creature commonly used as messengers in the Feywild)

My darling husband, my guiding wind, first in my heart,

If you ever leave me to deal with my family alone again I will lock you out of your library for a month!

I understand midterms at the academy are nearly upon us but I am certain your assistant could manage long enough for you to join me at this reunion so that I am not left to suffer my mother's attentions alone.

Speaking of, I have included the recipe you wished to ask from her, and I will bring some of the more exotic ingredients home with me when I return.

Further, your absence has utterly devastated Mallory, who has been demanding her "Uncle Gale" no less than 6 times a day. How utterly cruel of you. She has very much wanted to show you her new magic trick, which I assure you is very adorable. No spiders involved this time.

To say nothing of how deeply I miss you, my love. I shall be returning soon, while it has been good to catch up with my brothers and feel the magic of my birthplace, none compares to the magic of our home together.

All my love, Bel'tan'e

P.S., Callista said you asked her for Dawnsea flowers, did you need spell-grade or food-grade petals?

(Bel'tan'e (he/they) is a spring Eladrin druid, born and raised in the Feywild, and currently married to one Professor Dekarios. They have a large family of relatively high status in the Spring Seelie Court, though Bel'tan'e himself is 3rd born and has little influence of their own (not that they want it). The couple regularly travels to the Feywild to see Bel'tan'e's family, who were quite shocked he returned with a human husband after only a few months away from home, but they grew to love Gale eventually, even if he is very odd and human-like)

(did I do this right? First time submission 🫣)

My love, Bel,

Sweetness, you know how much I adore your odd but ever caring family. I wouldn’t miss the journey for the world. Or, perhaps, a good box of chocolates. Kidding! I swear. I am mourning the loss of my visitation with you, thinking of the extravagant time I could be having while instead, I am pouring over my papers.

I do beg of you to not lock me out of my library. I simply would not be able to fare! I may pass away even at the mere thought.

Alas, I truly wish I could be with you. Though, I hope my words bring you comfort and warmth as if I were there beside you. They will have to do, for now. And while I do trust my assistant very much so, these are things one must handle on their own. This time of year at the academy is far from easy, it is best I oversee the work so as to avoid any mistakes. Nonetheless, I do deeply wish to be with you, don’t forget that.

Send my warmest, deepest affection to your mother back. That kindly woman deserves only the best and I will have something soon to show her my thanks, I promise. The same goes for Mallory and all the little ones calling for me. I do owe them a night within the Weave’s embrace once we can journey there together. No doubt that should suffice as an apology for missing this visit. Do tell little Mallory how proud I am of her. Thank the heavens she’s getting better with that, I nearly died the last time she summoned a spider. I still get shivers even thinking about it.

I have found myself rambling! I must save these words for when you return, otherwise this letter may become too thick to send back. Know that I love you deeply, and cannot wait for your return home. I shall have my best apologies lined up for you since you’ve had to endure such joyous fellowship alone.

Forever yours,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔

text reads: gale dekarios

literally shut up. ‘uncle gale’???? im sobbing and losing my mind over this. i can literally see gale showing up for the first time to meet their family and just ‘hello! i’m gale!’ Exactly how he says it when you first meet him in act 1. and then all the nephews and nieces hanging onto his arms and asking him about being a human and then him showing them the weave… i need to write dad gale now cause this is TOO cute. also you did perfect im obsessed if you can’t tell ~kore

[aita-blorbos]

( 🍤 for tracking purposes. And this is a different POV from an earlier situation.)

Am I the jerk for confronting a shopkeeper over his scummy business practices?

Ugh. Can’t believe I’m doing this. But I’m hiding out from some monsters right now, and it’s better than doing nothing.

I (M, idk and idc. Young I guess?) used to be a part of this dumb kids show. I only participated because I was bored. Not because I wanted to teach kids or anything. Teaching lessons is so boring!!! Where was I going with this? Oh yeah. I had to work with my fellow toons and interact with kids and stuff. And I’m sure you can tell how I felt towards them all.

To tell you the truth, I actually liked it when people stopped showing up at our home, cuz’ then I didn’t have to be a part of the show anymore. The only problem was when toons started going crazy for no apparent reason. We called these guys Twisteds (this is relevant later.)

Out of all the toons, the one I probably dislike the most would be D (M, don’t care. 5 or 6?) D runs a supply shop which is all fun and dandy, but I noticed that he rarely had good stuff for sale. Just useless junk food and cheap trinkets.

It didn’t help that he only accepted VHS tapes. Those things are hard to get, man! And his prices were seriously inflated. After the umpteenth time of getting tapes just to find he had nothing good in stock, I knew something had to be done.

So as any rational toon would, I snuck into the back of D’s shop when he went on a scavenging mission. If he thinks he’s gonna get ME to work my butt off just to buy some junk he thought wrong! Anyways, I start ‘borrowing’ his extra tapes (he had boxes and boxes of the things!) when D shows up again.

He starts YELLING at me to drop the tapes, to which I said no. I told him that he was saving all of the good items for himself, and that his prices were unfair. I wish I could have taken a photo of his face!! The smug, proud D pushed off of his high horse. If I didn’t do it, then surely someone else would eventually.

Dangit. Going on a side tangent again. So I was messing with D, and he kept trying to snatch the tape out of my hand.

To further tease him (as “friends” do), I push a shelf, causing a big box to fall over. Surprise surprise, it’s full of tapes. But D stopped going after me at that point. He just. Froze. And kneeled down by the box of spilled tapes. As the others enter the room to see what the heck is going on, I’m briefly considering if what I did was too much.

That consideration was short lived, as D freaking twisted in front of our eyes!! Twisted? Twist-ified? I dunno!! But he turned into a monster, and beat the stuffing outta me!! This one girl and these twins who I tolerate (F, and both M. They’re both like 5) managed to calm D down, before another guy knocked him out. But not before me, and a few others, were seriously injured. Who knew an angry flower could pack such a punch?!

…I didn’t stick around much longer, especially when D started waking up. Everyone was glaring at me and refusing to even come near, so I knew I wasn’t welcome anymore. Fine by me. I never liked them anyways, and it didn’t help that they all took D’s side. I’ve been wandering the lower levels of our home in search of a place to stay, and now you’re all caught up. So am I really the jerk for messing with D in the first place? I still think he could have run his shop better.

Edit: quit asking what floor im on its not like im gonna tell you. Its also gotten hard to type so no nore edits

Edit 2: MY MOUGTH IS GON WHWRE IS MY MOUTH

[compassionatereminders]

Can i just brag in your ask since i kinda have no friends?

Im not too fat, im a bit chubby but thats not the point. The pont was when my mom dies i started eating many sweets, every day and i ate too much of it. Im not against eating sweets every day i just over did it. And i ate sweets when i was supposed to eat real food. Sometimes i skipped breakfast lunch and dinner and i just ate sweets all day.

I didnt move much since at work i sit 8 hours in front of the computer and same at home (i cook and clean but when im at home i watch a tv show or read a book im not having much energy to go out on a walk etc. Excuse my words but sometimws even my butt hurts from sitting.

I cant live that way forever so i decided to start exercising. I found great channel body project that has exercises for beginners. I sweated a lot, i hurt a lot but i didnt quit. Video was 25 min long and i did it!

I wanted to start living more healthy and i really hope i will be able to do it. I dont mind if im not perfect and i have 5 kilograms too much but i wanna be fit in other ways because i noticed if i walk for too long i get tired and i shouldnt since im still young i know its different for everyone!!! Young people can get tired easily but for me it was because for the last 2 years since my moms death i stopped moving and i only went out when i had to. It wasnt a good life style. And i am so proud of myself i did the exercise till the end and i hope i can do it every day maybe not at first maybe at first i will do it every second day but i hope i get there. I want to live healthily as i can but not over do it which means i wont obsess with weight or fat around my stomach i wont say i cant eat chocolate but i will say "i can eat chocolate but i have to eat my lunch and my veggies too, i also can sit for 8 hours but i also have to do a little exercise even if its 10 minutes"

I really hope i will be able to do it because sometimes i am a quitter but at least i didnt quit today and that matters to me!

What a win! And as long as the goals are things like "more exercise" or "more healthy meals" and not "lose x amount of weight", I'm cheering you on!!! 💪❤️

[periwinklefox13]

hellooooo im gonna tell you about my sims world because i think its pretty awesome and im having a good time but feel free to ignore if that doesnt interest you

i started by creating myself because i pretty much always do. decided i was going to do a rags to riches challenge type thing

the rules:

i start with an empty lot and 0 money

i am not allowed to get a job

any sims that join the household must also quit their job

try to earn as much money as possible as fast as possible and build the house of my dreams

so i started off with absolutely nothing. started fishing and digging for collectibles to earn some fast cash. collected wild plants and replanted them to create a farm. sleeping on park benches and using the grills to make hot dogs.

bought a bed and a mini fridge. couldnt afford to build a room yet so sleeping outside. fridge got rained on and broke a couple of times

saved up enough to build a tiny house! literally just one room with a bed, mini fridge, toilet, sink and shower

expanded the farm by buying seeds. also got bees! bees fertilise the plants and make them improve in quality so you can sell them for more money. also they produce honey which you can sell.

started dating one of the neighbours!

expanded the house to two rooms! bedroom/kitchen and bathroom. with a stove we can now cook food at home rather than using the grills at the park!

expanded the farm again. it now covers half the lot. also bought an easel so i could make paintings for additional income.

married boyfriend and had him move in with me. he writes novels to earn supplemental income.

added bedrooms and had baby number one! a little girl, named her lily :)

saved up 60000 simoleons and decided to demolish the house and build a better one. much bigger and very nicely decorated. (im very proud of it)

just had baby number 2! a little boy i named sam. lily is a child now! she just had her birthday.

im now thinking about getting a dog. i love dogs.

anyway uh yeah! thats what ive been up to this week lmao

That sounds interesting! /gen

Now that I think about it, I never really played Sims before.

[bearsgrove]

58 & 64 & 76 ehehe xxxxxx

thank u!!!!!!!!!!

58. four talents you’re proud of having? my very first thought: bro i have None but idk if i think about it for a sec uhhhh. i guess i like the way im able to talk myself out of things and just like mildly influence/manipulate people. like when im in trouble or im trying to avoid being in trouble im pretty good at smooth-talking my way out of most situations and its always been a very natural thing for me but yes it is definitely a talent lmao and then. hmm. i suppose i can draw and paint and im quite creative. im biting through 20 layers of self-criticism saying this btw i dont think i can name four ngl

64. favorite website from your childhood? there is a couple that come to mind transformice.com which was an online game really but hey the question says website so it counts. i played that SO fucking much. on the surface it was a simple multiplayer platformer where u played as a little mouse in a group with other mice and the objective was to get to the cheese. one of the mice was a shaman which meant that they had special abilities and they had to help all the mice get to the cheese. but there was SO much more going on. there were many custom games, clans, rooms, events… i loved it. my favourite custom game was kind of the opposite of the main game objective, the shaman mouse had to kill all mice in the room lmao. anyway. then there was dolldivine which i think people might be familiar with. dress up games basically. then there was one other website i cant remember the name which had many little games in it, from dress up to interior design to whatever. then i used to play ladypopular a lot which i wont even get into explaining lol but it ate up a huge chunk of my childhood

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? i feel like i could write an entire love song about potatoes. like. ALL of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! literally every potato food is god tier. i think i might like fries the most? but then i remember that baked potatoes exist and u can just boil potatoes have them with some salt and sour cream or mashed potatoes or…………….. jesus man. fuck. it is THE food ever because its so simple so easy and yet SO fucking good no matter how u prepare it. low risk high reward etc

[matryoshkalex]

saw the tmnt questions thing! you don't have to answer all of these but thought I'd send a whole bunch of em anyways 13, 22, 33  :D

oooooh okay these are fun thank uuuuu !! always welcome an invitation to rant abt things i like to anyone who'll listen hehe

13.) Which version of Michelangelo is your favorite?

hmmm this one is hard because like .... every mikey is a Good mikey. im tempted to say 2003 or 2007 (or 2012 or rise or mm or) buuuuuut ohhhh this is so difficult. THEYRE ALL GOOD MIKEYS but uhh 2003 mike. final answer. hes a perfect himbo and i love his humor and voice and the way he interacts with his brothers <3 love him

22.) What is your favorite kind of pizza?

oh this is making me hungryyyy but meat lovers!!! im not usually much of a carnivore lol but when it comes to pizza give me all the meats, pepperoni, bacon, ham, chicken, ALL of it!! or like a supreme pizza with everything bc im not super picky with food and like most pizza toppings yummmm

33.) What is your favorite thing you've made for TMNT?

oh thats also a hard one. ive made a bunch of fanart at this point and am actually almost done with the fic i started way back when i first got into tmnt like 10 years ago and decided to rewrite completely a few months ago. sooooo either that fic, which im very nervous about posting but also quite proud of,,, its my baby. or one of these arts ive posted: rise krangified raph, my human 2012 boys, orrrrrrr. hm. this is my oc buuuuut that art trend i did with aiden a few days ago!