#Custom Cream Packaging Boxes

[wgcustomprint]

Everything You Need to Know About Water Based Coating Paper Cups

Choose sustainability with water based coating paper cup from W&G Custom Print. They are different from regular plastic-coated cups in that they use water-based barriers to prevent leaks. Perfect for hot and cold beverages, they provide a high-end, biodegradable choice for restaurants, coffee bars, and events. Brand them with your logo to combine sustainability with effective brand visibility.

[creativeboxesblog]

Stand Out on the Shelf: The Power of Custom Serum Boxes

In the ever-competitive world of skincare, serums reign supreme. These potent elixirs boast concentrated ingredients that target specific concerns, making them a must-have in any beauty routine.

But with countless brands vying for customer attention, how can you make your serums stand out on the crowded shelf? The answer lies in a powerful marketing tool often overlooked: custom serum boxes.

Beyond Packaging: The Allure of Custom Serum Boxes

Custom serum boxes are more than just a pretty face. They are a strategic marketing tool that can elevate your brand and connect with customers on a deeper level. Here's how:

Attention-grabbing Appeal: First impressions matter. A well-designed custom serum box with vibrant colours, captivating fonts, and high-quality printing instantly grabs attention and sets your product apart from generic packaging.

A Story Waiting to be Told: Don't underestimate the power of storytelling. Your custom serum boxes can be a canvas to narrate your brand's story. Highlight your commitment to sustainability with recycled materials and eco-friendly inks.

Building Brand Identity: Custom serum boxes are an extension of your brand identity. Incorporate your brand's logo, colour scheme, and fonts to create a cohesive visual experience that resonates with your target audience.

The Power of Information: Don't leave your customers guessing. Use the real estate on your custom serum boxes to educate them about your product. List the key ingredients and their benefits. Include instructions for use and safety information.

Emotional Connection: The right visuals and messaging on your custom serum boxes can evoke emotions and connect with customers on a personal level. Feature captivating imagery of glowing skin or satisfied customers to showcase the transformative power of your serum.

Beyond Aesthetics: The Functionality of Custom Serum Boxes

While aesthetics are important, custom serum boxes shouldn't compromise on functionality. Here are some key considerations:

Protection is Paramount: Your serums deserve superior protection. Choose sturdy cardboard materials that can withstand bumps and jostles during shipping and storage. Consider inserts or dividers to prevent bottles from clinking together and ensure safe delivery.

Sustainability Matters: Eco-conscious consumers appreciate brands that prioritize sustainability. Opt for recyclable cardboard materials and eco-friendly inks to minimize your environmental impact. This resonates with a growing segment of the market and positions your brand as responsible and forward-thinking.

User-friendliness is Key: Customers shouldn't struggle to open or close your custom serum boxes. Incorporate easy-to-open mechanisms like tuck tops or magnetic closures. Ensure the box size is appropriate for your serum bottles, avoiding excess space that could damage the product during transport.

From Concept to Reality: Creating Winning Custom Serum Boxes

Ready to design custom serum boxes that turn heads and drive sales? Here's a roadmap to success:

Know Your Target Audience: Understanding your ideal customer is key. Research their preferences, buying habits, and pain points. This knowledge will guide your design choices and messaging strategy.

Define Your Brand Identity: Solidify your brand's voice and visual identity. What makes your brand unique? How do you want to be perceived? Ensure your custom serum boxes reflect these core elements.

Seek Inspiration: Get inspired by successful brands in the skincare industry. Look at their packaging choices and messaging strategies. However, avoid direct imitation – aim for inspiration that fuels your own creative vision.

Collaborate with a Reputable Packaging Partner: Partner with a packaging company that specializes in custom boxes. They can guide you through the design process, material selection, and printing options to ensure a high-quality finished product.

The Final Touch: The Power of Custom Serum Boxes

Custom serum boxes are more than just packaging – they are a strategic marketing tool with the power to elevate your brand and connect with customers.

By prioritizing aesthetics, functionality, and brand storytelling, you can create custom serum boxes that grab attention, educate consumers, and ultimately drive sales. In a competitive market, standing out is essential.

Invest in custom serum boxes and watch your brand take center stage and all of this is available at the beauty boxes.

[carlosjordan]

𝗖𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗺 𝗖𝗕𝗗 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 𝗕𝗼𝘅 𝗣𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗦𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗯𝘆 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗣𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 CBD cream is one important product made of cannabidiol, especially utilized orally to make skin healthy. Because creams have a light consistency and can be easily rubbed into the skin so many brands are selling cannabidiol in the form of CBD creams. Obviously, they require box packaging to pack and then sale out these CBD creams. Our company is offering Custom CBD Cream Box Packaging in this regard. We help those manufacturers and retailers who are in search of personalized product packaging. Our highly produced CBD cream boxes would be unique and attractive enough to grab customers. We help your brand to be known to people all over the world. We do not compromise packaging quality over quantity; we always come up with the best. We engage customers with our company, and we never disappoint them. Book your order here and avail our first-class services at very reasonable prices.

[yanderedrabbles]

💕 Yandere Valentine's Day Gifts ♥️

Prompt: You own the local flower shop. It's Valentine's Day. Which customers will be popping in?

Yandere! Sugar Daddy calls you two weeks before Valentine's to order fifteen separate bouquets for his darling. Every exotic and rare shade that roses come in.

"I want them delivered fresh. Early morning please."

"Yes sir, I can manage that," you tell him, still reeling at the ridiculously large amount he just paid you.

On Valentine's Day, his maid let's you and your crew into his penthouse. You can't help but let out a low whistle when you see the size of the place.

He directs you to set the bouquets out around the living room. The morning light from the floor to ceiling windows catches on the glitter you dusted across the arrangements.

He has a sort of nervous energy - arranging and then rearranging the flowers. You sometimes hear a thumping, banging sound from deeper in his penthouse but when you ask him about it he says its just the building creaking. You don't know much about skyscrapers this high and so you let it go.

When it's all finally to his satisfaction, he tips you and your crew very generously. As you leave, you see him setting out a whole slew of iconic Tiffany jewellery boxes.

His darling will be showered with the most expensive love money can buy. Whether they want it or not.

Yandere! Bisexual Best Friend breezes into your shop like a true haute couture diva. He looks over his designer sunglasses and snorts with disdain at the traditional red bouquets.

"Nothing so cliche for my girl," he tells you.

He orders pink and white camellias, with sprigs of baby's breath. He has you wrap the stems in matching pastel paper. When you ask him if he'd like to include a card, he writes his message in a beautiful, looping cursive.

'I know no boyfriend will get you flowers that you actually like. That's why you have me. Happy Valentine's Day gorgeous.'

"Very elegant," you tell him.

"Thanks. I'm meeting her for brunch and drinks after this."

He shows you his other gift for his darling. A bottle of expensive perfume, in a glittery blush pink box.

When you ask him if his friend has any dates planned, he tilts his head and smiles without any warmth at all.

"Not if I can help it."

Yandere! Actor doesn't come into the shop or call you directly. It's his hurried, harried assistant that places the order.

"Five dozen roses in a single bouquet. I'll bring you some chocolate that he wants between the flowers. Oh, and a card. Don't forget the card."

When she drops off the chocolate for you to use in your arrangement, you can't help but want to look up the price. Everything from the packaging to the hefty weight of each chocolate screams luxury artisanal brand.

The final arrangement is beautiful, but in a looking-good-on-camera sort of way. You don't know the order is for him until his assistant accidentally let's it slip who her boss is. Your eyebrows shoot up but you manage not to ask any questions. A billionaire and now a celebrity. Seems like everyone wants to be extra romantic this year.

"What does he want on the card?" you ask, pen poised.

"Oh, he sent one for you to use." She hands you a card printed on thick cream paper, elegant in its minimalism. You glance at the writing before you can stop yourself.

'A star like you deserves all the flowers. Happy Valentine's dollface.'

Cute. The exact sort of thing you'd expect from a heart throb like him.

It's only when you see him and his darling on the red carpet later that night - his arm around their waist the entire night - that you begin to wonder if there's more to their relationship than meets the eye.

Yandere! Werewolf shows up right before you close, hands on his knees while he catches his breath. He ran straight to your shop after football practice and there's still grass stains on his chin.

"Oh god, tell me I'm not too late for roses." He looks so worried that you take pity on him and agree to look in the back for any bouquets that might have slipped under the radar.

He must be supernaturally lucky, because you manage to find a dozen red roses. When you get back to the front, he's taken out the rest of his gifts from his backpack.

There's an overstaffed werewolf plush, an extra large leather dog collar, some pre-packaged bones and a chew toy.

"Interesting selection," you say as you ring up his flowers.

He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah. They uh... have a dog. It's mostly for the dog."

You get the sense he isn't being entirely honest, but you're not the type to pry. When you're done, he shoots you a gorgeous smile.

"I totally owe you one. You really kept me out of the doghouse."

He's just about to leave when he suddenly remembers something. He digs in the pocket of his letterman jacket and pulls out a clear packet of candy hearts. You look closer and realise he must have picked out individual sweets just for their message. They're repeated again and again.

'Be mine.'

'Yours forever.'

'Kiss me.'

"Do you think these are canine safe?" he asks you. You think about it for a second and then nod.

It's only after he's left that you wonder what sort of dog would want to eat candy like that.

[customburgerbox]

How to Create Custom Cream Boxes That Boost Your Brand Identity

Introduction:

In today's competitive market. Where countless beauty and skincare products flood the shelves. It is essential for businesses to find ways to stand out. One often overlooked aspect of this endeavor is custom cream boxes. These boxes not only serve as protective packaging but also play a pivotal role in shaping your brand identity. In this article, we will delve into the significance of custom cream boxes and how they can elevate your brand's presence in the market.

How You Can Understand the Importance of Custom Cream Boxes?

The importance of custom cream boxes lies in their ability to differentiate your products from the rest. When a consumer walks down the skincare aisle. They are bombarded with numerous options. The packaging is often the first thing that catches their eye. An aesthetically pleasing and well-designed cream box can make your product memorable.

Moreover, custom cream boxes allow you to convey a message about your brand. Are you eco-conscious? Innovative? Luxurious? Your packaging can tell this story. It is not just a vessel. It is a canvas to express your brand's values and personality.

What Is The Role of Custom Cream Boxes in Building Your Brand Identity?

Brand identity is essential to a company's success. It includes the principles of your brand. Mission and how you want your customers to view you. The process of creating an identity includes customized cream boxes. They provide a visible link between your brand and goods.

When it comes to branding, consistency is essential. Custom cream boxes with your branding on them. Your brand will be recognizable and memorable thanks to colors and distinctive design features. when clients regularly observe your packaging. It becomes a representation of your brand.

How You Can Showcase Your Product with Eye-Catching Packaging Design?

Eye-catching packaging design is essential to draw customers in. The design of your custom cream boxes should reflect the essence of your product and resonate with your target audience. Here are some design elements to consider:

Color Palette: 

Choose colors that align with your brand and evoke the right emotions. For example: soft pastels may convey a sense of gentleness. While bold, vibrant colors can signal energy and youthfulness.

Typography: 

Use fonts that are easy to read and complement your brand's style. Typography plays a significant role in conveying your message effectively.

Imagery: 

High-quality images of your product can create a desire in potential customers. Showcase the cream's texture. Ingredients and benefits through visuals.

Shape and Structure: 

The physical shape and structure of your custom cream boxes can be unique and memorable. Consider unconventional shapes or die-cut designs to stand out on the shelf.

Using High-Quality Materials for a Premium Look and Feel

The quality of your custom cream boxes speaks volumes about the quality of your product. Customers often associate premium materials with high-quality content. Investing in sturdy. Eco-friendly materials not only enhance the appearance but also convey a commitment to sustainability.

Additionally, high-quality materials protect your creams from external factors. Such as light and moisture. Ensuring that they reach customers in the best condition possible. This attention to detail can build trust and loyalty among your customer base.

The Power of Customization Tailoring Your Cream Boxes to Fit Your Brand's Personality

Customization is where the magic happens. It allows you to infuse your brand's personality into every aspect of your custom cream boxes. Here is how you can harness the power of customization:

Logo Placement: Your logo should be prominently featured on the box. It is a symbol of your brand and should be instantly recognizable.

Finishing Touches: Consider special finishes like embossing, foiling, or spot UV to add a touch of elegance and uniqueness to your packaging.

Size and Shape: Tailor the size and shape of your custom boxes to fit your product perfectly. This not only enhances aesthetics but also reduces wastage.

Brand Messaging: Include a compelling tagline or a brief story about your brand on the box. This can create an emotional connection with customers.

Captivate Customers with Engaging Box Designs that Communicate the Benefits of your Creams

Your custom cream boxes should not only look good but also communicate the benefits of your creams effectively. Here's how you can achieve this:

Clear Product Information: Clearly state the product's name. Key ingredients, usage instructions, and any certifications or awards it has received.

Visual Demonstrations: Use graphics or icons to illustrate the benefits of your creams. Such as hydration, anti-aging properties, or natural ingredients.

Testimonials and Reviews: If you have positive customer feedback, showcase it on the box. Social proof can be a powerful persuader.

QR Codes: Include QR codes that lead to instructional videos or additional product information. Offering customers a deeper understanding of your product.

Conclusion

In the world of skincare and beauty products. Custom cream boxes are much more than just packaging. They are a means to convey your brand's identity. Connect with your audience and stand out in a crowded market. 

By investing in high-quality materials. Captivating designs and effective customization. You can create custom cream boxes that not only protect your product but also elevate your brand to new heights. Remember, it is not just a box. It is your brand's story waiting to be told through packaging.

[shineesbackbitches]

Whipped

౨ৎ summary: "He retreated to join Jungkook and Mingyu at the table, and immediately upon Eunwoo sliding into the chair, Jungkook rounded on him. “I brought you here to get snacks, not flirt with my friend!” He complained, hands curled tightly into fists and pressing into the table top. Eunwoo doesn't look up as he carefully removes his heaping slice of Your Hope Your Angel Food Cake from the bag, setting the box before him.

“Mingyu was the one flirting.” Ruthlessly, Eunwoo tosses Mingyu to the wolves (or wolf, he supposed, since it was just Jungkook), effectively distracting Jungkook."

౨ৎ pairing: Eunwoo x Reader

౨ৎ genre: bakery AU, first meeting, fluff, crack, series, peachesndreams

౨ৎ word count: 4.6k

౨ৎ warnings: Jungkook and Mingyu being embarassing as hell, they're literally a nightmare duo to the customer service industry, multiple failed attempts at flirting, brief mention of pot brownies but there are no pot brownies, Reader gets kind of shy around Eunwoo for a hot second, meet cute

౨ৎ author note: this one goes out to all the readers who have to hella suspend disbelief for like, every fic ever. Any time a reader eats something or eats out at a restaurant I'm like, "oh, did I😬" bc me and my severe asf food allergies could never. So I've decided to do it to myself and write an entire bakery AU that would end me irl instantly :) bon appetit besties! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

During his many years as an idol, Eunwoo had been subjected to many interview questions. Most of the responses were automatic, drilled into him as to what to say about promotions, music, scandals, stages, dramas, diets, ideal types, dating experience (”Of course, absolutely none at all! I’m dating my fans!”), and his wonderful company—eleven out of ten, no notes. From career-focused to just fucking invasive, Eunwoo could field any question without much effort or hesitation. Perhaps a tight, sarcastic smile here or there to signal to the interviewer that they were a raging asshole, but other than that, Eunwoo had maintained his dashing idol image.

Sanha was the first to comment on the gap in his image that appeared whenever one specific topic was brought up, snickering at a cut of one of Eunwoo’s interviews reposted to Instagram. The camera had remained stubbornly focused on Eunwoo as he rambled, his eyes twinkling and face more expressive than during any other segment.

“A whole four minutes and fifty-two seconds of you yapping about your top three ice cream flavors.” Sanha had grinned, shaking his head in feigned admiration. “Incredible. I love the part where you listed your top three flavors for every ice cream place within fifteen minutes walking distance from the company.”

Okay, so maybe he could get a little carried away when food was brought up.

And okay, yeah, it didn’t really mesh with his calm, cool, collected idol image, but who could fault a man nearing a decade in the entertainment industry for letting that image fade a little? Come on, Aroha’s didn’t stick around for the idol packaging, they were in it for the shenanigans and the creative journey. After almost ten years dedicated to his career, and fielding questions about his appearance, talent, and everything in between and beyond, he had reached the conclusion that his supporters were happiest when he was happiest. So, Eunwoo decided that the logical conclusion was that he needed to prioritize his happiness. And if rambling about his favorite culinary experiences made him happy, they’d gladly indulge him.

And indulge him they did.

Countless recommendations flooded his social media. Arohas sent in their favorite restaurants, cafes, bakeries, bars, food trucks, and little hidden gems for him to explore around the world. Eunwoo appreciated it, especially since a planned destination for a good meal made traveling a little less lonely. His favorite part of reading through the recommendations were the stories that accompanied them: retellings of celebrations, all-nighters, anniversaries, first meetings, breakups, solo dates, and fuzzy nights with rowdy friends, all experienced alongside culinary delights.

Eunwoo never felt more human than when he read (and sometimes reread) these stories, snickering and occasionally choking back thick tears at their adventures. So he decided to try and visit as many places as he could, organizing the recommendations by location, and noting when recommendations overlapped.

So far, Eunwoo was proud to say that Arohas had immaculate taste. He would have never discovered the intimate little places tucked back away from the more popular roads had it not been for them. Sometimes, he would even receive specific instructions on what to order (“The green chili pork tacos are life changing, I swear. Be sure to squeeze the lime over top!”). Other times, he would just take in the atmosphere and appreciate a moment of peace. It had become Eunwoo’s method of living his life to the fullest.

There was one specific place that had more overlapping recommendations than any others that Eunwoo hadn’t found the time to visit yet. Because unlike the obscure, hole-in-the-wall locations, this place was an absolute sensation.

Haru was irrefutably the best bakery in the city. Backed by bloggers, critics, and most importantly, other idols. Okay— maybe not most important in terms of culinary status, but what better marketing for a k-pop-themed bakery than actual idols’ Instagram posts? The owner had decorated and named all of their products according to groups, albums, songs, and lyrics. Not only did it appeal to fans, but idols often stopped by to take pictures with their dedicated pastries for cute, low-effort promotional pictures.

Eunwoo had admittedly been hesitant to visit at first. After all, it could easily be chalked up to a marketing gimmick— maybe the pastries weren’t that good, but the excitement surrounding the detailed presentation made everyone tastebud blind. He had been around long enough to know that looks could definitely be deceiving. Eunwoo also knew better than to believe that every idol actually consumed the pastries, other than a bite for the ‘gram. But even when Eunwoo zoomed in on Minho’s slice of Dibidibi-Devil’s Food Cake, the fluffy crumb and moisture level looked divine. So, casting his reservations aside, Eunwoo had vowed to make it to Haru some day. He just wasn’t sure when fate would allow it with his insane schedule.

Fate allowed it a lot sooner than he had been expecting.

As of late, fate came in the form of the infamous ‘97 line group chat. Specifically, Mingyu taking the initiative to revive the damn thing with a screenshot of Monsta X posing with massive macarons, some boldly mid-bite, others gaping comically at the size, and an idol smile and a thumbs up from the never-slipping Kihyun.

Monsta X Macarons?!?!?! HerOREO flavor?!?!? They look FIRE!!! Please please please someone come with me to Haru!!

Mingyu pleaded, the fire and underlined 100 emojis spilling over an entire line in the text box.

Thank you so much for sending food porn into the chat during our comeback prep bro.

Bambam’s scathing reply was near instant, closely followed up with Yugyeom’s frowny face and middle finger emoji.

Bummer bros.

Mingyu **was such a sympathetic friend. His sincerity could never be fully realized by the slanted mouth and frustrated faces pasted at the end of his message.

Okay so Bam and Gyeom can’t hang. The other four of you quit lurking!!!

Eunwoo sent his reply.

Sure, I’ve been wanting to go.

The moment his message sent, another response barged its way into the conversation.

YOOOOOOOOOOO I’M A REGULAR THERE!!!! I’M THE OWNER’S BEST FRIEND FROM HIGH SCHOOL!!! LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Jungkook’s enthusiastic message came as a bit of a surprise to Eunwoo. Jungkook had made friends in high school? Either way, he would appreciate the guidance on which pastries to try. Eunwoo had spent way too many hours scrolling Haru’s menu and display pictures late at night when he was craving something sweet. Everything looked absolutely heavenly, so he never managed to decide on an order for when he eventually visited.

His phone vibrated as the conversation continued.

Deadass bro?!?!

The deadest of asses bro

Eunwoo blinked and the three of them landed on a time and date where the stars aligned and their schedules miraculously opened up.

And that was how Eunwoo found himself in the front passenger seat of Jungkook’s car, with Mingyu occupying the back seat. Between the three of them, they only had filming and workouts scheduled before they were cleared for the remainder of the day. So in other words: it was a fucking miracle.

All three were dressed as inconspicuously as possible. Well— as inconspicuously as people with their occupations and brand sponsorships could be dressed.

Eunwoo himself had only had workouts that morning and early afternoon, so he had quickly showered and dressed in layers appropriate for the inconvenient time of the year when the temperature was biting in the morning but pleasant in the afternoon. He’d been a bit rushed for time, and he’d only partially dried his hair that was grown out longer than usual for an upcoming drama before slipping on his black padded jacket on his way out of the apartment.

Mingyu appeared to have scrambled to wash up after his workout as well, his black hoodie pulled up over his hair and the thick frames he rarely wore out perched on his nose. In contrast to the two of them, Jungkook was still professionally styled from whatever casual interview he’d filmed that morning. He’d toned down his meticulously waved hair by shoving on a beanie, but left his flawless makeup untouched— out of the ordinary, but not high on anyone in that car’s list of questions in the moment.

“What do you usually get though?” Mingyu persistently grilled Jungkook, leaning forward to hover behind the center console in the front seat. His knee bounced eagerly, a giddy grin plastered on his face.

Eunwoo appreciated that they were both foodies, although not to the extent he was. Mingyu wanted to have a game plan going in, less he stand at the counter indecisively until either the bakery closed or he succumbed to the pressure and bought one of everything. Eunwoo could relate— bakeries were not for amateurs.

“Seriously, everything’s good.” Jungkook supplied unhelpfully. “It depends on my mood, but I usually get a slice of Blood Sweat and Tiramisu, Your Hope Your Angel Food Cake, or, like, something else.” He mumbled the last part, fully angling his face away from them to check his side mirror.

Mingyu huffed in exasperation and immense judgement, “No motivations behind those choices huh, Jungkook?” Eunwoo could hear the eyeroll in Mingyu’s criticism. He decided to get a slice of the Your Hope Your Angel Food Cake, the spongy crumb pictured on the menu a near permanent image seared into his brain.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his mouth dropping opening to defend his pastry orders (”I’ve always liked tiramisu— don’t look at me like that! The names are just coincidental!”), but Mingyu was not interested in his whining and shifted topics.

“So you’ve been friends with the owner since high school? How’d that happen?” He raised his eyebrows and stared pointedly at Jungkook, a teasing grin curling his lips up. Mingyu was intentionally riling Jungkook up; poking fun at his introverted and awkward personality from back then, and Jungkook could never ignore the bait, no matter how carelessly it had been tossed towards him.

“It happened when we became friends in high school.”

There was an extended beat of silence in the car where Mingyu waited for Jungkook to continue the story and Jungkook did not continue the story. Instead, a thick tension filled the car, clogging the conversation for the remainder of the drive. Eunwoo recognized Jungkook’s abrupt and abnormal evasion— mostly because this was a new level of unhelpful— even for Jungkook, but the way his hands curled into tight fists around the steering wheel was a dead giveaway that it was actually deeper than Jungkook was willing to let on.

Whatever, it wasn’t Eunwoo’s clowns or his circus.

That is, until he finally crossed the threshold into the bakery and the warm, comforting scent of almond, lightly toasted coconut, and a dash of cinnamon had him enchanted.

Or maybe it was you.

Bakeries tended to put him in a romantic mood; there was something sensual about them.

Maybe that was it.

Because Eunwoo couldn’t fathom any other reason for the weightlessness in his stomach when he saw you cheerfully greet them from behind the counter. Your customer service smile reminded him of the one taught to idols— emphasis on the puffy cheeks and twinkling eyes— but more genuine. There was a sweet quality to your voice too, like you were greeting a dear friend rather than a first-time customer.

The exterior resembled a cottage with its neutral wood detailing and scalloped overhang dangling beneath the script that spelled “Haru”. Plants decorated the outdoor seating, blocking off a private section for customers to sit amongst greenery and flowers. The inside decor was just as inviting: hanging plants draped across the ceiling, the same wood as outside pieced together the flooring, and pastel accents brightened the room. You fit right into the space, pretty in a fairytale kind of way, features dainty and endearing.

One glance and Eunwoo knew exactly what Jungkook’s cryptic behavior was about. He had known you since high school and hadn’t made a move yet? By Eunwoo’s calculations, that was a fucking fumble.

And not his problem.

If Mingyu picked up on the situation, he sure wasn’t putting forth his most sympathetic foot. It happened so fast, Eunwoo missed when it happened, but Mingyu had suddenly flung his hoodie off and speared his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the air-dried strands into something more intentionally ruffled. Beneath the hoodie was one of his tight t-shirts that clung to his form and emphasized the size of his arms.

So inconspicuous was now off the table.

He lingered behind Jungkook as the trio approached the adorably decorated display case, with Eunwoo drinking in the calming environment at the back. He noted that you pressed your scraps into bite-sized, bunny-shaped cookies and sold them in packages near the register.

The instant Jungkook planted himself at the counter, the radiant smile melted off your face like the icing from a cupcake on a scorching summer day. Typically, best friends from high school greeted each other warmly, but nothing about the interaction validated Jungkook’s claim of youthful camaraderie going back years. The man just stared at you with his expectant, yet distinctly vacant expression until you broke the eerie silence.

“What can I get you?” Your tone was tight, face uncomfortably neutral. Your eyes darted down, unimpressed when Jungkook rested an elbow on the counter to lean in closer to you, which Eunwoo didn’t think he should be doing based on the hostility seeping from your cold glare.

“Come on,” He mumbled, volume low enough that Eunwoo had to shuffle forward to catch what he was saying. “You know what I want.”

If Jungkook was trying to be inconspicuous, he was absolutely failing. The entire scene looked far too shady for an exchange at a bakery. It was then that Eunwoo noticed the Epik High Brownies in the display case, and his eyes darted to the description underneath in alarm. In smaller print read, “Not pot brownies! You’re in South Korea, Sweetheart.” He pressed his lips together to fight an amused grin, instead turning his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry.” Your shoulders shrugged in feigned ignorance, lips lightly pouted. “I don’t know what you mean.” Then, your head tilted to the side, a clear indication that you had no intention of surrendering to Jungkook’s whims.

The man hung his head in defeat, begrudgingly muttering out his order: “Can I get two Jungkookies?”

Mingyu poorly concealed his guffaw with a cough, his hand slapping over his mouth to muffle the sound and something that sounded suspiciously like “loser.”

Instantly, you perked back up, voice positively saccharine as you keyed in the order on the register with slender, practiced fingers. “Of course! Two Jungkookies! Will that be all?”

Grumbling, Jungkook dug his phone out of his back pocket to pay, his other hand tapping the screen to add a custom tip. Eunwoo observed, exasperated as Jungkook pettily typed in a nineteen percent tip before hovering his phone over the reader. You held the bag of goodies out and Jungkook snatched them, the back of his hands betraying his embarrassed flush.

“These are my friends.” He gestured vaguely behind him before retreating to the side for Mingyu to step forward.

Mingyu’s eyes widened at the unhelpful introduction, rapidly bouncing between you and Jungkook, flustered and unsure how to follow up that disastrous interaction. His doubt that you and Jungkook had an amicable relationship was clear in the tension of his shoulders and the nervous press of his lips. Would he be guilty by association?

But the original friendly demeanor you wore when they first entered the bakery returned, and you coaxed him forward with a warm smile.

“Um, hi, yeah. I’m his friend. Um, Mingyu.” He cracked a hesitant smile, fumbling through his introduction. Mingyu scrambled to find his footing, raking his fingers back through his dark hair yet again. Then, it was like the cameras were rolling and his ‘puppy idol’ charm activated. The professionalism must have been stored in his post-workout biceps with the way he discreetly flexed them while he ordered, gesturing up at the menu, into the display case, back up to his hair again for the glory shot of his shoulders. He quirked his lips upward in a lopsided smirk, playing the part of heartthrob like his livelihood depended on it.

To your credit, not once did you stumble. You fielded every question and request professionally and kindly. Your eyes were either focused on your task of gingerly boxing up the pastries with practiced ease, or they held his uncomfortably affectionate gaze with pleasant apathy.

Mingyu sensed that his advances were falling short, and in a burst of desperation, he resorted to more blatant flirting as you carefully slid the box containing his Ready to Love Rugelach and Aju Nice Confetti Cake across the counter.

“Are you sure you’re into floral?” You asked, lips twisting into a concerned pout. “There’s a hint of rose in the rugelach— real rose, not the artificially sweetened kind— it’s not for everyone.”

Mingyu chuckled breathily as he slipped his actual wallet out of his pocket, an action that had Eunwoo raising an unimpressed brow. Was he really desperate enough to flash the— yes, he absolutely was.

“Don’t worry,” Mingyu maintained eye contact as he winked, sliding his black card out of his wallet with a flick of two long fingers. “you’re sweet enough to make up for it.”

Kim Mingyu, like the majority of the smart phone owning population, had Apple Pay set up.

Your polite smile remained firmly in place, eyes twinkling mischievously as you told him to enjoy. Mingyu’s last-ditch attempt had clearly whiffed, and he retreated off to the side and into Jungkook’s clutches.

Fuming, Jungkook firmly clapped his hand onto Mingyu’s shoulder with the knowledge that today had been arm day for Mingyu, and that the ache would have settled deep in his bones by now. The taller man flinched and snapped his eyes closed, concealing his hiss of agony with a deep inhale as if he were appreciating the delightful scent of the bakery.

Mingyu’s real misery arrived not with Jungkook’s blunt nails digging into the skin of his shoulder, but by way of you perking up and addressing him in farewell: “Oh, and if you see Dokyeom, tell that sweetheart I said hello!” You chirped, an unmistakably genuine light in your eyes.

Mingyu visibly deflated, his smile tight and his shoulders sagging under the weight of failure and Jungkook’s heavy palm. He forced out an insincere laugh, the sound hollow even to him. “You’ve met DK?”

“Of course! He’s here all the time.” You giggled, clearly affectionate toward the kind vocalist. “Nothing gets between him and a slice of Carat Cake. He even bought an entire Cheolie Pie once!”

The curses directed at his fellow bandmate were blatantly carved into Mingyu’s hardened eyes as he swallowed the bitter pill that had he never even stood a chance. And to be done in by one of his own, at that.

Finally, the time had come for Eunwoo to make his final decision on what to get. He casually stepped up to the counter, flashing a partially kind, partially apologetic closed-lipped smile. He was expecting the same friendly, business-oriented treatment you’d given Mingyu. But, to his surprise, he witnessed your demeanor shift yet again. While you’d been admirably confident and collected around his friends, completely unruffled by their— quite honestly, obnoxious— behavior, you abruptly went quiet before him. Downcast eyes evaded his as he introduced himself.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Eunwoo.” He continued, “Everything looks so good, I really can’t decide what to get.” Eunwoo refused to allow his nerves to seep into his body language, but you still hadn’t even glanced up to him as he spoke. Had you already decided you didn’t like him? He should have come alone; he would have made a much better first impression. Eunwoo reflexively his teeth into his bottom lip, digging his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Do you have any preferences?” Your voice was significantly fainter, and your fingers twisted the edge of your floral apron, rolling it from the corner.

Off to the side, Jungkook’s attention shifted from his relentless bullying of Mingyu in favor of whipping to your face like he had no clue who the fuck you were, round eyes vacant and mouth hanging open.

“Like, fruit or chocolate?”

Eunwoo observed the way your lashes fluttered and the faint heat that glazed your cheeks as you avoided looking at him, and it all clicked into place.

He chuckled lightly, the pressure in his chest fading and leaving something warm in its place. So you were just shy. “I like everything.”

But Eunwoo wouldn’t make you pack and ring up one of everything, despite his deepest desires aching to try everything and extend the interaction for as long as possible (and to, you know, actually try one of everything). He’d cut you some slack today and limit himself to five pastries.

But which five? He indecisively peered into the display case housing pastries uniformly decorated with animal faces, fruit, and nods to the k-pop industry. It really was an impossible decision to make.

“What do you recommend?” He decided to consult the real expert, and also try to gently encourage you to look him in the eye with exposure therapy. If you were able to hold a conversation with him, especially one in your area of expertise, surely you’d gather yourself enough to make eye contact at least once.

He observed as you abandoned the hem of your apron in favor of squeezing the cuffs of your sweater in your fists. “Well,” Your eyes trailed over the display case, and you snapped your professional competence back into functioning gear.

“The Chogi-White Chocolate Cake and Red Velvet are the most popular, but we just started making our seasonal Russian Roulette Raspberry cheesecake.” You indicated each dessert as you spoke, still quieter than before, but confident. That slice of cheesecake would absolutely be walking out with him, Eunwoo decided. The swirls of fresh raspberry marbling through the filling hypnotically had him more than convinced.

“I’d like a slice of the cheesecake, please.” He requested, watching you crack the display case open and gingerly slide the dessert out to be boxed up. “And could I also get a slice of the Your Hope Your Angel Food Cake?” Eunwoo gestured to dessert next to the cheesecake.

“Of course.” You nodded, keeping your attention fixed to your task. The flush of your cheeks still hadn’t quite settled. “Is there anything else?”

Eunwoo eyed the Strawberry Skies Blueberry Pie, the sugar dusting practically sparkling under the warm sunlight spilling in through the bakery windows, and willed his self control to prevent him from purchasing an entire pie. He swallowed and forced his head to turn away.

“Oh, there’s also the monthly TXT’s if you’re interested.” You sensed his struggle somehow without even reading his expression. Just then, Eunwoo noticed the small section of the menu dedicated to Tomorrow X Tasty’s. A grin curled the corners of his lips up at the witty name for specials, which were BamBam Butterscotch Kisses and Orange Caramels this month. He added both to his order and waited patiently as you swiftly collected all of his choices into one bag. Then, you turned and placed it on the counter next to the register, quickly adding up his total with fluid flicks of your fingers.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” You asked, still fixated on the screen of the register. Eunwoo shifted his weight onto one leg, reaching out in the direction of the register separating the two of you. Out of your periphery vision, you saw his hand move near your face, startling you enough for your eyes to finally flick up to his face in question.

“Oh, sorry!” Eunwoo beamed, a wide smile scrunching the apples of his cheeks up and crinkling his eyes. He was just so dashing. “Last thing, I promise!” He passed the bag of cinnamon sugared bunny shaped cookies he’d plucked from the basket beside the register to you. Now that you had finally looked at him, Eunwoo could confirm that you were just as charming as he initially thought. Your eyes were warm and brilliant, housing a kindness that comforted everyone that met them. The environment you created in the bakery reflected that kindness, and he anticipated finding out if your baking did as well.

“No worries.” You reassured him with a soft curve of your lips, slipping the bunny cookies into the back so they wouldn't crush any of the other pastries.

Eunwoo tapped his phone to pay after pressing button to add a twenty percent tip. With steady hands you passed him the bag of pastries across the counter, and Eunwoo couldn’t resist taking advantage of the opportunity to brush his fingers against yours during the transfer. Probably because of the air conditioning blasting on high in the bakery, your hands were chilled in contrast to the bashful heat of your cheeks.

“Thank you,” Eunwoo smiled with as much warmth as he could muster, his eyes crinkling. Stray dark strands of his hair swished into his eyes and he quickly flicked them out of the way. He could see out of the corner of his vision that Jungkook had manhandled Mingyu to an empty table a few feet away, but Eunwoo still dropped the volume of his voice for privacy. “I’ll be sure to enjoy them and come back.” He promised earnestly.

“Please do.” You held his gaze, and Eunwoo himself nearly melted, limbs feeling gooey like a glaze, at the smile you awarded him, spring-like in its comfortable warmth and vibrance.

He retreated to join Jungkook and Mingyu at the table, and immediately upon Eunwoo sliding into the chair, Jungkook rounded on him. “I brought you here to get snacks, not flirt with my friend!” He complained, hands curled tightly into fists and pressing into the table top. Eunwoo doesn't look up as he carefully removes his heaping slice of Your Hope Your Angel Food Cake from the bag, setting the box before him.

“Mingyu was the one flirting.” Ruthlessly, Eunwoo tosses Mingyu to the wolves (or wolf, he supposed, since it was just Jungkook), effectively distracting Jungkook. He tipped the lid of the box back and discovered that he was right from his assessment of the pictures online; the cake was light, moist, and had a lovely crumb. The enticing scent of almond wafted into the air, not overly sweet but still carrying a warm nutty note. He cut a sizable bite, impressed with the absence of crumbs flaking off, and scooped the cake into his mouth. Eunwoo leaned back into the chair, savoring the bite and ascending to a level of ecstasy so high, it had to be illegal in this country. He wasn't in a cafe anymore surrounded by his friends bickering—it was just him, his slice of cake, and for some reason, the soft chime of bells.

He glanced over his shoulder at the entrance to see if a new customer had stepped through the door, but no one was there. Odd. Eunwoo twisted back to the table where Jungkook and Mingyu fired juvenile insults back and forth.

He was definitely coming back to shoot his shot without these two dumbasses getting in the way.

౨ৎMasterlist

[jujutsukgojo]

The Baby Project chapter 2

izuku midoriya x reader

Chapter one, Chapter three

Summary: When Kaibara gets increasingly worse, a hero comes in the nick of time.

tw: dead beats, assault, mention of Mineta's crimes,

You wipe the booths for the next customers. Heading back behind the counter, you ask your tables if anyone needs anything. It’s the same old thing you’ve come to love. Children are coloring in their coloring pages and are waiting for their juice boxes while their parents order grilled cheese. The kids write ‘secret’ messages to you about them getting sweets. An indecisive couple who finally settle on the most basic things then call you back to change it.

  The restaurant has been up for ages and has regulars that have been the nicest people to you. So many debates on whose cooking is better. You, Yona, who’s your boss, or Ken’s, the cook. All for the sake of laughs and gentle teasing. They have the faces that tell a story you want to hear and senses of humor that vary more than snowflakes. 

   Plucking the fresh, hot pot of coffee from the machine, you head over to your playful regulars. A group of older men who have taken a liking to you and have acted like grandpas. They are a highly playful bunch who make you smile every day.  “Here we are boys.” 

  “Ah, (Y/n), looking rather dashing today.” Ren puts his head on his hands. He's a man with laugh lines and salt and pepper hair. Ren has been a regular at the restaurant for years who always orders apple pie with cheddar cheese on the side with whip cream, day or night, breakfast, lunch, or dinner whenever he’s around.

“In the same old uniform that you saw me in yesterday. Seriously?”

  “Can’t I compliment you?”

“Yeah, when it doesn’t come with asking if you can get the meal for free.” 

He sighs. “Dammit.”

  Yona calls you to her. Her dyed red hair is easy to spot. She sucks on her lips and eyes you nervously. You quickly rush to her, not liking the look on her aging face. “Yeah?” 

She extends her hands to you. “Someone left this for you. It was given to Ken when he went out to take out the trash.” 

  You gasp and drop the pot of coffee, its glass and hot liquid spreading on the floor. Some of the liquid touches your shoes and the heat makes contact with your feet. Even then you barely register it. The noise gathers the attention of the patrons and Ken, who comes out of the kitchen. Your eyes start to mist when you see Noa without a blanket or his diaper bag. His feet are cold and he’s shivering.

________________________

You sniffle as you pat him. It’s after hours and the only ones in here are those who work late and are finishing their meals. When you saw Noa, you immediately freaked out. The customers were quick to see if you were alright, but Yona made you go somewhere else to process everything. 

Throughout the entire restaurant, Noa’s cries were heard. You have been in the kitchen with Ken and even in Yona’s office to get the noise away from the customers. Nothing worked until he was warmed up.

“Just breathe, kid. Ken knows of your assignment. He was gentle like it was real.” You kiss Noa’s soft head, his chubby newborn face is now free of stress and his mouth no longer lets out a shrill wail.

With a gruff voice Ken calls out from the kitchen. “I thought it was real. Look at it.” 

  “I can’t believe this. I just wanted him to help. Classes are over. He isn’t doing anything. How could he be this way?” Noa coos and tries to breastfeed and starts to give out whimpers every time he fails. Yona gives you the bottle that was left with Ken. “The packaging threw me off but I figured it out.”

   You go to feed Noa. He’s been terrible at taking it since the project started. Finally after some coaxing, he latches on. “He’s doing it!” He’s only been fed like, 5 or 6 times by you. You just hope Kaibara managed to get something in. 

  “Thank you.” You sniffle. “Other than this, why are you crying? Noa’s fine.” She tickles his feet. He jolts his leg from the sensation, not once removing the nipple from his mouth as he hungrily sucks on the milk.

“U.A. doesn’t allow students to work unless they’re in the hero course. I get a stipend but that’s less than others since I’m on a scholarship. It’s weird but true. So, I took this job to help me out. I had to ask him to help me get things so I wouldn’t borrow from my friends.”

  Yona wipes your nose. She’s always been motherly to you; sometimes overwhelmingly so. “Now he knows. He’s the one who had to pay for some of his things and was mad about it,” You look up at the older woman who is listening intently. “Yona, what if he doesn’t understand my situation?”

  You didn’t come from diamonds and gold. You don’t have the funds to go to this fancy school or have parental help. Plus, U.A. just now started the stipend thing and you have a cut. This project is terribly expensive, and the stipend can’t cover it at all. It barely takes care of you.

You make sure to place him directly on your chest to be as comforting as possible. The position mimics breastfeeding which is a little awkward for you but worth it since he calms down after. 

  “The hero course gets paid from their internships and stuff. He has more than me, so I didn’t think he’d mind. Plus, we’re partners in this.” You remove the bottle from the little baby’s mouth.

 “It wasn’t crazy stuff either. Just diapers from Mei Hatsume-”

“The inventor, right?”

“Yeah, her. It was a pacifier and clothes, stuff like that. The only reason he went to the store with me is because Tetsutetsu embarrassed him or something.”

“Real Steel?” You nod. “Kaibara gave me like, twenty bucks maybe? I’m happy he did something but it didn’t really help. I took most of the bill and I still couldn’t get all the things Noa needs. Toss me a towel, please.”

You place it on your shoulder and hope for the best.  Noa burps and throws up a little. This is the first time Noa has burped perfectly with you. Usually, you have the hardest time doing it. As you try to hold him better, his weight gets heavier. 

Your eyebrows raise.  “Already?” 

“What’s happening, baby?” You quickly cradle him for them to see. “He’s growing! He was a newborn now look!”

  You unbutton his onesie so he can have room to grow. His belly tells his age. “Four months?”

What did you or Kaibara do to get to four months already? Noa’s face no longer looks like an old man but an actual baby where his features begin to be more identifiable.

“Good job, pepper!” Ken comes out of the kitchen and puts out his cigarette, not wanting it to be around Noa and hinder your progress. You breathily laugh, smiling down at Noa. He looks more aware now and he still favors you in the looks department.

   “He needs some more-”

“Say no more. I still have my girl’s baby clothes. A few onesies, shirts and pants, maybe? I’ll check but I know I have some. Maybe my boy’s, too.” Ken rubs your head with his meaty hand. As strange as he is, a grumpy middle aged guy who needs a haircut and to stop hitting the gym so much, he’s sweet. Rough around the edges but the sweetest man you’ve ever had the pleasure knowing. 

Yona kisses Noa’s chubby feet. He wiggles his toes. “And I still have my kid’s bassinet. It’s old school but sturdy.”

You thank them both then pause.

  “What happens at four months?” You look to the adults who have kids of their own. “Hell if I know. I was in jail.”

“Ken, not now.” 

“He should be-” Then Noa screams. You look him over, not finding anything. You then undo his diaper to see if he's wet and see a horrible rash. “What?!” 

On him was a regular pamper. Kaibara put a regular U.A. diaper on him and didn’t even do it right. “No, no! Crap! Did he give you the diaper bag?”

  “Just the baby and a bottle, pepper. And the bottle was empty. I don't know why he was carrying it like that. I was locked up and I know bett-”

"Ken, please. No prison stories."

You take it off of him before it gets worse. You don’t know why he decided to do this. You told him not to, right? It wasn’t like you chose it. Noa just happened to have needed them. Just like Ema’s baby can’t be around anything that’s not cotton or the baby will get a rash. Or Benio’s daughter throwing up the school’s formula and having to go to get a special formula from them that cost more. 

   The babies are extremely diverse, just like real ones.

“Alright, alright.” Yona takes Noa to the kitchen and bounces him as she goes. Ken rubs your back again. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

Maybe.

“No. I have to.” You rub your forehead. “I don’t know what to do though. He hates me for some reason. It all started when I said no to the name Sen.”

  You groan. “And he knows that I work. What if he uses it as black mail? I won’t be able to afford anything!”

“This is based on real life, right?” You nod. “If he does anything, get him for child support. He’s taking your income thus away from the child. Your stipend can’t cover you both and he’s an absent parent. Let the school handle him.”

You take in his words. The stipend can barely help you. No way would it be able to handle a growing baby. 

“That’s too serious. This isn’t that bad, right?” Ken sighs and sits next to you. “Yeah, it’s an assignment. Just a project that’ll end sometime soon. But he isn’t helping. Rather than watch him for a couple of hours, he hands him over in a back alley to a strange man,” He gestures to himself.

“Well not strange-” He corrects.

“Eh…”

“Little one, I swear to God,” You laugh and wipe your eyes. Talking to these two have helped dry up some of your tears. “Listen, if he doesn’t start properly helping you, if he snitches and it affects Noa, then yeah. It's not permanent or anything. Just until the project ends and who knows? Maybe U.A. will let you work because without it, it'll take away from Noa."

“I don’t think it’s a thing here, though.”

“Not in this country, really. That doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing at that fancy school of yours. Force them. It's either that, or they let you work since they're being cheap towards you.”

You catch a ride from Yona as Ken closes up. You have to hurry back before curfew. Before she speeds to your school, she takes a detour to her modest home. With so little time left, you can only grab a few things with Yona promising you more tomorrow. You want to kiss her when you see all of the items she’s giving you. They’re old but completely welcomed. 

Back in the car with Noa in your arms grabbing your finger, Yona breaks the silence.

 “Take Ken’s advice. If the butthead holds this against you when you talk to him, you have to do something. This isn’t just affecting you. His pettiness is going to hurt Noa, too.” 

“You talk like he’s real.” You whisper as you pass the streetlights that just came on. It means curfew is about to start. Luckily, you were quick to change into your U.A. uniform. Hopefully, you walking in like normal will work. 

  “Noa would fool even All Might. All that thing is missing is a legitimate soul, and that’s it. His heart beats, honeycomb.” She watches how you interact with him. Even if you don’t realize it, you are treating him as if he’s real. 

"Yona...that's too serious. Like, that's grown up stuff. I don't think this situation calls for it."

"It's something to consider."

You scratch your cheek. "I don't know that's awfully...dramatic? He's just a grade." Yona scoffs and rolls her eyes. "It's not just about financial provision. It's about co-parenting which he isn't doing and what U.A. is trying to teach him to do," She sighs and looks at you then back at the road. "Look, if you won't do that, then go to your teachers. It's not snitching when it affects your grade like this."

"He'll tell!"

Yona's silent. She hears how desperate and sad you sound. "Even if he does, it's not like you're doing the worst thing in the world. Talk to him. Tell him if he doesn't shape up, then you'll go to the teachers. If they give you flack, give it right back."

  Yona pulls up to the dorms. “Alrighty, we’re here.” Your hands start to tremble. You’re not scared of Kaibara. It is the possibilities that get you. “Breathe honey, he’s just being an ass. Besides, he may not do anything. He could be perfectly reasonable if he asks.”

  “My scholarship could end, Yona.” The school doesn’t allow anyone to work except for the hero courses. The scholarship would end. Would you lose them too?

“Argue it. It’s what you do best. You may not like heroes or can fight like them, but in a war of words and law you’d beat all of them with your mouth taped shut. Defend yourself in your territory.”

  You take a deep breath. “I will.”

She grabs your arm. "He gave a child to some random man in an alley. What if Noa was real?" 

______________________

Yona loads the bags into your arms and places Noa in the wheeled bassinet. It is old, white laced and not the cleanest. The wheels are large and the fabric that drapes the bottom half is surprisingly soft.  Although it is not disinfected right now it’ll have to do until you can get inside and clean everything. You give Yona a kiss on the cheek, thanking her for everything. 

“You act like helping you is a chore. It’s okay, the sweetest honeycomb.” For some reason, that hits you in the gut. 

When Yona leaves, you repeatedly kick the door so someone can open it. A kid from the other General Studies class opens the door. They must be visiting because the other class lives on the other side of the building. 

  You enter your room and head to the bathroom for a bath. After today, it is definitely needed. That and Yona’s gifts need to be scrubbed too. They’ve been boxed away and preserved in an attic.

  You give Noa his sponge bath first. It was easy enough. He only screamed bloody murder the entire time other than that it was cake. You dry him off and set him on pillows so he could be propped up while you bathe. The curtain is open so you can keep your eye on him. 

  “I’m coming, sweetheart! Just one minute, please- shit!” Shampoo got directly into your eye. Noa cries louder, showing all of his gums and his little fists are clenched to his chest. You hurriedly try to rinse your eyes and grab Noa. 

  You suck at this. So, so, much. 

   You begin to get cold but you push that all aside in order to get him to be quiet. His wailing is loud in your ears. Finally, you decide to wash with him even though he’s already bathed. His head lays on your chest, resulting in the tears to be sniffles. 

“You just wanted some lovin’, huh? That’s okay, bub.” It’s not at all. Who is to say he won’t understand you and start all over again?

After the much needed shower, Ema comes in to see you in your robe and drying Noa off. “Do you hav-what’s that?” She lifts his leg, the red and rough rash is visible even on his outer upper thigh.

“Before you blame me, it was Kaibara. He put one on him.” You gently massage his skin and make a mental note to go to Hatsume about it. You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know why he put the regular ones on him.”

 “Did you tell him?” 

“Yeah, I did. Or I think so? I don’t know. I’m exhausted.” 

She puts her hand on her hip. “If Eijirou was ever that lazy, I’d smack him.”

   “I think it weirds him out. All of it, you know?” She sits on your bed next to Noa. “That’s stupid. He deals with blood and gore everyday yet he can’t handle changing a baby in the right diapers? Ridiculous and lazy.”

Feeling the heat of anger rise up, you tell her, “Plus, he kept the diaper bag. So I’ll have to use a backpack.”

“He kept it? Did he at least give you some of the things in there?”

“Nope.” You’re not going to tell her the full thing lest your secret be found. She scoffs and throws her hands in the air. It’s nice to vent. “Stupid, lazy, and petty.”

  “Amen.” Speaking of prayers. “Did they handle that grape thing yet? How’s Riko anyway? I haven’t seen her.”

   Ema licks her lips. “Not good. The messages that Benio read were just the tip of the iceberg apparently. He sent dick pics, way more than innuendos, borderline if not outright, threats. It’s just a mess. I only saw a few of them but I totally see why she felt threatened.”

 You pause, taking in the information of what your friend went through. “You serious? A future hero?”

She hums and nods. “Yep. Word is that he’ll be expelled since everything has just accumulated to this. It’s like this is the final straw type of thing.”

“Should’ve gotten rid of him sooner.” You nibble on Noa's chubby feet, making him giggle. It's way better than him wailing.

“Definitely. Anyway, Snipe said there weren’t any more people so she could take a test or raise the baby herself. She chose to quit and take a test. Said the project was ruined for her.”

  “If that is the best decision for her health, I say let it be.” How bad was it? Benio was pissed when he read them and that didn’t cover much. So, what exactly did the grape thing do? How bad were these threats? Your heart aches for Riko and what she’s going through. It isn’t fair. 

“It’s a good thing you and Benio pushed it. This needed to be brought out. If he becomes a pro hero, the people he saves will be in jeopardy.” She messes with the edge of her nighttime shorts. 

  “Absolutely. He’s a bona fide predator. Yes, he fought in the wars. Yes, he helped save the world,” You count on your fingers. “That doesn’t give an excuse for assault or harassment.” 

  She fiddles with your quilt blanket. “I feel bad, peaches.”

“Why?” Noa flexes his fingers in awe. You wonder if his four month phase is already ending and he’s growing again. The growing process seems to be random. “Because I should’ve realized sooner. She was being paired with him. It was bound to happen. He’s the biggest pervert in the school. I should’ve gone with you guys and supported her.”

“You were raising your kid at a different table. No one blames you. We just happened to be there. This isn’t on us, it’s on that thing. ”

"I know. But her face when I saw her is gonna stick with me. I want to do something but what?" She licks her lips again and shakes her head. The subject changes as she focuses on his features. “He looks like you. Even his hair, see?” You chuckle and nod in agreement. 

“Yeah. I think that bothers him too.”

“So fucking lame.” Amen, again. “Wait, he’s bigger…he grew! Oh, I’m so proud of you!” She kisses your head. You raise your brow at her affection. “It says he’s four months but I think he’s growing again.” 

You massage his face. “Maybe Mei is speeding up the growth.”

  Her eyes roam around your room and stop at your little basket of his things. 

“Oh Lord. What’d you need?” She hums. “I wanted to see if you had any diapers to spare? Eijrou heard about it and wants to try.”

“Eijrou… he lets you call him by his first name?” She nods. “Yeah, we share a baby so there’s no reason to call each other formally. Besides, we get along really well.” It's not Ema's fault at all. Not the smallest bit. But it stings when it shouldn't. It is the partnership they have and you can't get it despite your efforts. You practically see the gold medal on her neck right now that shows she isn't failing. Could a start of a positive partnership be as simple as using his first name? The next time you see him, you'll give it a try.

  “Ooh, I’m telling Deku.” You finish all the steps of the diaper and put a simple shirt on him, opting out pants. You get up and go through your stash of them and hand some to her.

“I think I’ve moved on, actually.” You gasp loudly, holding your hand to your chest. “The biggest Deku groupie left the club?”

“Oh, shut up. I let go. There are things he’s happier with and I realized I’m happy too. There’s no reason to chase something when going in a different direction.” She has a slight blush on her face yet if you look closer, has a forlorn look. That blushy face is a dead giveaway for something else, though.“Wait…you and-”

“Don’t say it!” 

“Ema and Eijrou sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-” She flings a pillow in your face, making Noa giggle. His dimpled face makes you smile wider. He’s got to be more than four months old now. How? You don’t know what you’re doing right. So, you’re happy about it.

That and knowing she likes Kirishima, the ideal baby daddy. "I'm just fond of him, okay? It's early, so it might, I don't know, be the project?"

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. Seeing them in the cafeteria was so sweet and domestic. It was something you could see for Ema. Something sweet, gentle, and kind. It's what you hope for her. Maybe Kirishima is the one who can provide that. They get along so well already and work together flawlessly. You become downcast as you think of all of the positives for her and Kirishima. Their teamwork.

You take a deep breath and stretch. After, you look around and slump your shoulders. “Shit, he has the bag. Can I borrow some formula? All I had was in that bag.” You look at Ema’s naturally glittery face. The glitter is used for freckles rather than the actual prints. You've asked her if it had to do with her quirk and surprisingly enough, it's just hereditary and not quirk related.

 “I’ll pay you back I swear.”  You put as much sincerity in your voice as you can. The dorms are locked so you can’t get to Kaibara and Noa’s going to have to feed soon. 

 Ema’s luminescent eyes look you over. She purses her lips then breaks into a playful smile. “I’ll accept it as a trade for the diaper.”

You don’t know how this is working, and you know in real life, there wouldn’t be this much support. Growing up you didn’t see half of this. Yet in such a short amount of time, the people around you made you feel safe and supported. You pray that one day you can pay them back. This whole thing is just an assignment. Nevertheless, this shows you the rare kindness of mankind. What a nice day this is.

_______________

 A few days later, you struggle to catch Kaibara. He’s actively avoiding you. Whenever you see him, he has the diaper bag and side eyes you. It’s nerve wracking and it’s pissing you off. There are things in there that you desperately need. 

You’ve managed to get some of the formula on your own. Noa is still at an awkward stage that his timer is set at four months but his development says different. You have to go to Hatsume to check on him.

In the morning, you put him in the wrap. You pack some of his things in an old, raggedy, backpack as a makeshift diaper bag. The actual baby bag is a lot better with more room, compartments and it’s absolutely sturdier. 

You take your notebook and write down the things he needs and on another page, a schedule that fits you. It’s a rough draft but with his schedule, the two of you should be able to compromise and come up with a plan. You’ve written down your number and where to find your room as well. The page even includes your friends’ numbers if he can’t get a hold of you. You pray that he can do the same and that there is an agreement on the plan.

   “Alright baby boy, let’s roll.” You see Ema and her baby girl, Hana. You poke her pink cheek. “Hey, little one.” 

“Ugh, don’t even.” Ema turns and walks. “What? What’d I do?”

“It’s not you, it’s her. She’s been so fucking ornery. All night she was screaming. I’m surprised you didn’t hear it.”

   You really didn’t. You and Noa slept soundly. “I didn’t hear anything.”

   “Lucky. It’s my night to keep her and this happens.”

“She’s a newborn, right? It’s bound to happen.” Ema shakes her head. “Nope, she’s eight months old.”

  “Eight months…” You suddenly feel insecure of Noa or at least your parenting. He must be in the process of growing since he’s doing more than a four month old should yet he’s still behind. Ema’s a natural at this, though. She’s doing something better. That gold medal is shining in your eyes brighter than before. You shouldn't feel this way. Ema wouldn't rub anything in your face.

  “Yep! Eijrou and I make a great team. I can’t wait to tell him. And show the set of lungs his daughter has.” She looks at you evilly. 

    Exiting the general studies’ commons, Ema looks around for Benio but doesn’t see him. “He could already be inside fuming like usual. The ponytail girl has been ticking him off.”

  “I still don’t understand. She’s a sweet person. What’s going wrong?” Ema asks.

“If you haven’t noticed, it’s the general studies’ students that are getting stuck solely raising the babies.”

  “I’m not!”

You kick a pebble that was in the way on the sidewalk. “No, but you’ve got a good one. The rest of us are struggling.”

  She kisses Hana’s head. “Do you want me to tell Ei? I’m sure he can talk some sense into Kaibara.”

You’d love that. 

“No. If he’s anything like Tetsutetsu, it won’t get through to him. Tetsu’s already tried.”

   “Seriously?” You hold the door open for her. “Yep. I went to Kaibara’s dorm and when Tetsutetsu found out he isn’t helping, he yelled at him.”

   Ema puts her hand on her hips. “I can’t believe this. You should go to a teacher. This is a partnered assignment.”

“I’ll give him some more time but if this continues, I’ll go.” It has been a little over a week already. 

____________________________

  You’re insecure of your plan. Yona and Ken advised it. Even though it makes sense, it feels so drastic and serious to go that far. Plus, going to the teachers feels like snitching. You’re ticked that he’s not helping and scared that he’ll tell on you. It’s like he’s got all of the cards.

You wave Ema goodbye when you spot Kaibara. “Oh, Kaibara!” You wave your hand at him. He taps his foot and has a gleam in his eyes that doesn’t seem friendly. “How’s the formula? You have it in the bag.”

“It’s okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yep.” The two of you talk at the side of the hallway. “I mean, is it running low? Because I also need some for when I take care of him.”

  He chuckles. “How long have you been working?” Your heart stops. “Kaibara…”

“No, because I gave you enough-”

“It was 20.” He glares at you. “Still, I gave you money when you didn’t need it. You stole.”

You can feel people watching as they go by. The tension between the two of you is getting higher. “I didn’t steal. This project involves the both of us. You act like I make a ton when I don’t. I work only for a few hours a week.”

  He slowly gets closer to you. He roughly hands you the diaper bag. “You make enough. Don’t ask fo-what is he wearing?”

  Noa wears a pink shirt with purple designs on it paired with grey leggings. He has thick white socks on his feet. “Clothes?”

  The shirt is from Yona and the grey leggings from Ken. The outfit looks very cute on him. Simple and easy.

 “Get that off of him.” His tone is steel and sharp. It makes you tense up for a second.

   You raise a brow, genuinely confused. “What?”

 “This is embarrassing. With the money you make you can’t put him in some good clothes?” You look down at Noa whose clothes are fine. “What’re you talking about?”

   “You did this on purpose.” He curses at you under his breath. A General Studies student walks past then stops and stares. They make eye contact with you. Their purple eyes wondering, asking, if you need help. The student takes off down the hallway.

You then remember that Ema uses Kirishima's first name to build a better bond. “It’s only clothes, Sen.”

  He curses again and roughly handles Noa, trying to take his shirt off. Noa begins to cry. You tell him to stop and get Noa away from him. Kaibara grabs your wrist painfully, making you yelp. You try to tug it free and protect Noa from having his clothes removed at the same time.

Just then, a scarred hand intervenes and grabs Kaibara’s wrist. Your partner looks shocked and then up at the owner. He’s, uh, a lot bigger than you thought he’d be. And his voice definitely sounds different in person. 

The man himself, Izuku Midoriya, aka Deku. His hands are large and his fingers slightly crooked. The scars and calluses tell stories of war and determination. His eyes are bright, like they're happy but his actions say different.

  Izuku says hello to his old friend while holding Kaibara's wrist tightly. You take this pause to grab Noa properly and readjust his clothing. This is all so fucking stupid. It’s like getting your group to help you do an assignment but they’re all fucking around. Fuck this, you’re putting your name on the paper and explaining to the teachers what happened. 

   “I’m sick of being nice to your dumb ass.” You tell Kaibara, who for the first time doesn’t look smug or annoyed. He looks…scared? In a gentle yet firm voice, Izuku Midoriya says, “Come on, let’s go.” 

His hand is placed on your waist to guide you away from Kaibara. He takes you away from his year hallway and towards the stairs.

“U-uh, I hope that was alright!” He rubs his hands together. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

   You expect him to walk away from you now that you’ve reached the stairs to go down to yours. Instead, he stays with you. “Thanks, by the way. I didn’t think he’d act like that.”

  “It’s not a problem. He was out of line.” He smiles down at you and Noa. “Is that the first time he’s done that?”

  His hero voice is on. “You mean being rough? Yeah. Blowing me and this whole project off? No.” You shrug and try to act unbothered. But your wrist hurts and Noa is squirming. “I accept it now and what I have to do.”

  “What do you mean?” The two of you begin to walk down. “I’m going to the teachers about it. The assignment’s just started and this is happening.” You are down the stairs and into your hallway. Only a few students are left, scrambling to find their class and handle their babies at the same time.

  Izuku’s eyes take everything in. You hope that he’s piecing everything together. That your class are the ones doing anything.

   “I’ll go with you.” You stop. “You don’t have to, Izuku.” He was about to speak until you said his name. He gets all red and covers his face and sputters. “Was it okay to call you by your first name?”

  “Y-yes!” And just like that, this guy resorted to being a red sweaty thing that's lightly tugging on his thick curls. Well, it is a little warm in the building. The bell rings for everyone to be in class. You curse under your breath when Noa begins to fuss. “Hold this.” You shove the bag into Izuku's hands. “What do you need? I can help!” 

   “He feels dry and he ate, give me a bo-bo.” Izuku eagerly looks into the bag. He stops. “A what?” Ah, right. “A pacifier.”

 “Oh, okay. That's cute, by the way." 

"I'll tell Ema about the compliment," He stares into your eyes. You gesture to the bag. "Right! What compartment is it in?”

  “The front flap,” He digs into the yellow one. “No, the blue. That’s where I put it.” He searches for it and frowns. “Are you sure? There’s nothing here or the yellow one.”

  “Try the main one, the big zipper.” Dread is filling deep in your belly. In those flaps were his pacifier, rattle, things to that nature. Now that you look at it, it’s a little flat. 

   “I can’t find it.” Noa cries louder by the second. “Keep looking!” Izuku’s hand is inside the bag. You hear rustling of some things. “It’s not in here-”

“Are you kidding?! Keep looking!” You rock Noa, who is increasingly getting louder. You don’t mean to yell at Izuku. He didn’t do anything wrong. He has been more helpful and less violent than Kaibara has been. 

   He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Breathe, just breathe,” You follow his calm directions. “Here, give him to me.” You trade the baby for the bag. He coos at the assignment and rocks him. The little brat starts to calm down. Izuku talks softly to Noa, asking how his day has been, and that he has to be good for mommy, all of the sweet things you'd expect. 

  “Where is it? Where-” It really isn’t here. You suck in your lips. All that’s in there are some clothes, diapers, and formula in a Ziploc sandwich bag for some reason. And there isn’t even enough for one bottle.

   Snipe slides the door open. “I thought I heard you-Oh, Midoriya! Long time no see.” Izuku goes on about Snipe’s latest take down. According to him, it was excellent. “Well, I’m glad to see you back. I thought you had a while to go?”

  “I finished early. Go beyond, plus ultra?” He nervously chuckles. Snipe stares at him for a second. “Plus ultra, Midoriya.”

   He then turns to you. “What is Midoriya doing with Noa?” What a dramatic tone difference.

“Snipe, I’d like to talk to you and Dracula after class.” Snipe scoffs. “Do you mean Vlad King?”

  “King Vladimir? Isn't that Dracula?”

Snipe rubs his face under his mask. “Whatever.”

_____________________________

After class, you meet up with the two teachers, Snipe and Dracula who is now known as Vlad King. As if they aren’t the same name. You asked Midoriya if he could watch Noa for a minute which he gladly accepted, then reminded you to call if you needed him. Unlike Kaibara, he immediately gave you his number. Red faced and all. He looked like he was having a heart attack while doing it.

“Snipe, Dracula-”

“ Vlad King.” The man in red grumbles. “Whatever. I know this is based on real life but Kaibara did something that bothers me.”

  Snipe sighs and sits on the edge of his desk. “This is up for the two of you to figure out.”

  “He got physical with me and Noa. If you don’t believe me, Midoriya is right outside. He saw everything.” Both of the teachers freeze. Dracula clenches his fists. “What happened?”

  “Has he done this before?” Snipe sits up, no longer slouching. “This is the first time he’s done this. But not the first time he’s neglected the assignment. At every damn turn he’s blowing me off and complaining. He’s not helping me at all.”

  “Start from the top and down to when he was aggressive.” Dracula’s eyes become serious. Not angry at you, though. Thank God.

  You tell them everything, leaving out your job. Ken and Yona are brought up, only called friends, and how they’ve helped you. No one is excluded from their rightful praise. Your friends here, the sales lady, even Midoriya who helped you and is doing so right now by handling Noa. 

   Vlad cracks his knuckle. “I’ll deal with him.”

“Vlad-”

“No. This is unacceptable. I know it’s up to them to figure out but what happened can’t be ignored or tolerated.” His leg is bouncing and fists are clenched impossibly hard. His fangs seem sharper than normal and eyes are blazing. “As a hero, we cannot allow that behavior to continue. A hero from my class? No. Absolutely not!”

  “I know-”

“No! He fails-”

“Kan, please! I’m just as upset as you are but we are forgetting to check the facts.” Snipe gestures towards you to calm you down, already noticing how your nostrils flared. “What I’m saying is that we must investigate the situation. If we go in guns blazing, it can cause more harm than good.”

  You understand that, but it doesn’t seem like enough. 

“I want him to help me and to apologize. I’ve been doing everything while he just jacks around.”

“I understand, (Y/n). This will be handled.” Vlad stands up and Snipe grabs his wrist. “Let’s talk to Midoriya. He’s the only witness?”

“No, some other guy ran to get Midoriya. He’s got purple eyes and since he was taking care of a robo-baby, I can guess that he’s from general studies because I know heroes aren’t doing anything.”

Snipe scolds you. “I’m serious, Snipe. I’ve only seen two heroes with babies and they were Kirishima and Tetsutestu. That’s it.”

Vlad snatches his wrist back and opens the door, startling Izuku who was cooing at Noa and kissing his plump cheek. “After we talk to Kaibara, you will be called, understand?”

Unlike how he was just seconds before, Izuku gets serious and firmly nods. His round green eyes don’t have the cheeriness they had just moments before. 

“Do you want me to bring him here?”

“No, I’ll be the one to do it.” Vlad disappears as he goes down the hallway, no doubt looking for his student. Snipe calls your name, gaining your attention. "You need to be here for this. I want you to tell your side of the story for the record then we'll bring Midoriya in." "Mr. Snipe, what if Kaibara gets mad at me?" He jerks and straightens up. "We'll handle him. You are safe, don't worry."

You put your hands on your hips. "This happened right under your noses. Who knows how long he's been like thi-"

"(Y/n), it will be handled. We need to investigate and write a report but trust me," He leans in. "You are safe and it will be handled."

"What about Noa? Are you gonna make sure he helps with Noa?"

Snipe gives a breathy chuckle and starts to slouch a little. He takes his shawl off and places it on his desk. Finally, he is back to being your teacher and not his hero persona. It's amazing how fast these people can switch depending on the atmosphere. "We'll talk to him. Honestly, (Y/n), I wish you would've told me sooner that he wasn't helping."

You let out a loud, "Ha!"

  "I'm serious." Shaking your head you humorlessly chuckle. "No, no. You are the same guy who kicked me out of class because of a project that you are making us do started crying. No way you would have my back if it weren't for Dracula looking at you."

  He flinches like he's been struck. The door opens again and reveals Dracula, some teachers, and Nezu. Dracula speaks first. "Kaibara will be here shortly. He is cleaning up from his internship."

Nezu pops out of Aizawa's scarf and waves at you. "Please sit down and relax, (L/n). Just tell us what happened." 

  The two hero course homeroom teachers, Snipe, the principal and a few others, all sit down. You look around and then at your surroundings. "Um, shouldn't we be doing this in your office, Mr. Nezu? And not my homeroom?"

 "This is quicker!" 

You sigh and then begin. "Today, Kaibara roughly grabbed me and Noa." 

"The assignment, correct? Noa Kaibara?"

"Yes. Anyway, I went up to him and asked for the diaper bag-" The door opens again, allowing Kaibara to come in. He loses his smile when he sees you. Again, a hero changes his demeanor at a drop of a hat. As quickly as he looked at you in disdain, he erased that in less than a second with a nonchalant smile to his superiors. His beady eyes find yours and make you squirm. You aren't physically afraid of him. It's what he has on you that makes you flinch.

He stands side by side with you at a distance. Kaibara turns to you and asks, "Where's the baby?"

Pfft, like he cares. "Noa's with Izuku."  You side eye him. Nezu clears his throat and says, "Kaibara, (L/n) says you hurt her and almost jeopardized your project. Is this true?"

Kaibara sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He shrugs his shoulders. "Unfortunately, I do know what she's talking about but she is blowing it out of proportion." Aizawa's gruff voice interrupts him before he can continue. "But you did grab her?"

"Yes, yes I did."

You spot Dracula's vein swelling. "And why-"

You raise your hand. "Before you all continue to talk to him, I want to tell it," You shift your weight on your feet. "I put clothes on Noa that Kaibara didn't like so he roughly handled Noa. Noa's wellbeing is our," You shoot Kaibara a glare he couldn't miss. "Grade, so I tried to protect him, but Kaibara turned his aggression on me. He grabbed my wrist-which still hurts by the way-and-" You pause. Should you do this? Is it time?

You then remember how he hurt you and Noa. Noa's cries and him reaching out to you, your fear not just for Noa, but for yourself. Your head is held high now as you let everyone know what Kaibara has done or not done.

"Noa is wearing hand-me-downs that some friends of mine gave me because I can't afford newer clothes. There isn't anything wrong with what he's wearing. A pink shirt and grey leggings. That's it. That's what he had a problem with. That his son is wearing pink."

"Kaibara!" The student begins to get flushed and shrink back at the scolding of the pro heroes in front of him. "Not only that, but he has not helped at all. When this project first started, we went to a baby store next to that old vendor guy, and Kaibara gave me twenty bucks then split because he didn't want to help soothe Noa. He ran because his son started crying."

  Cementoss nods. "Well, nerves are normal for parents."

 You refrain from a snarky remark. "I know this. But that was the first and only time he's held Noa, and he still didn't help." You should tell them that he abandoned Noa with Ken. However, that'd give him the opening he needs. And by the look on his face that's slowly turning red not from embarrassment, but from anger, he'd snitch out of spite.

 You should tell them that he did care for him for a few hours. You can't, though. He's got one over you. 

"This morning, he scared and hurt me and Noa. Your star witness out there has held him longer than Kaibara has. My partner as well as the rest of the hero course’s behavior has sunk to this. And it’s happening right under your nose. Let that sink in."

The room is silent, giving you another chance to talk. “Your favorite students aren’t helping. Make them.”

Nezu twiddles his thumbs and looks at you from Aizawa's scarf or rope thing. "We'll handle this. You're dismissed."

__________________________________

You exit the room, not even looking at Kaibara. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets and he was steaming. When you close the door, the air finally returns to you. 

  Izuku still holds Noa in the hallway. He rocks him and adorably so. He notices you standing there with a smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle and warm. Filled with worry and compassion. It reminds you of the sweetness of Yona and Ken. 

  “I’m fine. Alright, it’s your turn.” You point your thumb towards the door. Right before you can get Noa from his arms, he still holds him as he rubs your shoulder and enters the room. “You…you took my baby.”

  To yourself, you whisper, “He took my baby.”

You look around the hallway to see if it's clear. When you see that it is, you finally cover your eyes and let a small tear fall. Is it because of Noa and the weight? What Kaibara did and the power he has? Maybe it's because you had to be saved by Deku, a hero. Or is it because you failed at doing something so basic: getting along with someone. Noa's not real, he isn't. But it hurts that he is rejected. Why?! He's a doll. One that breathes, has a heartbeat, and your face. Are these tears from exhaustion?

  Why are you crying silently in the hallway? This is just a grade. That has to be it. You're afraid you'll fail and lose your scholarship, and all of your hard work will go down the drain. You're afraid of being found out, that's all. Not because you can't get help from the person who is supposed to help you. Not because you feel like you are behind and everyone else is passing you. Not that your wrist still hurts. That reminds you, you have to go to Recovery Girl for it. And since she's not too far from Hatsume, you'll swing by and pick up some things.

Kaibara is in there. Would he get it or has this damaged everything? You take a deep breath. When Izuku comes out, you'll grab Noa and go to where you need to be. You hear the door open and a curious voice calls to you. You can hear Noa's senseless babbling behind you, too. What to say? What do you say about why you look like you’ve been crying?

  You will do what you know. You turn around and see Izuku hold a happy Noa. "U-uh, are you crying? What's wrong? Is it your wrist?" Izuku comes towards you. You roll your eyes and say, "No, I have allergies."

  Izuku looks behind you and doesn't see a window open. 

[ronearoundblindly]

No Promises (3)

Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

I Left You Something On The Body (see previous or LH Masterlist)

Summary: You and Lloyd take to leaving consolation prizes for whichever one of you 'loses.' It...escalates delightfully.

Warnings for DARKFIC. Language; descriptions of sexual situations, toys, various paraphernalia. Smut-adjacent (masturbation). MINORS DNI. I have plenty else for you on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 982

And you do; you let Lloyd have several open contracts after the keycard incident.

Sometimes you wonder about the man providing the most fun you’ve had in years, but mostly, you relax in a noisy city high-rise with a spectacular view. A small vacation between assassinations. You drop off the network for a month or so, picking up a straight-forward job nearby, and then show up at the target’s house to find him already dead.

Pinched onto the body, overtop a blood-soaked button-down, are golden nipple clamps.

You snort in disbelief.

The sick bastard, he’s really wooing you now.

A thin chain between the clamps sports a tied tag.

To: The Cobalt Cunt

You let out a dreamy sigh, the little tingle in your mind of possibly fucking (with) him again vibrating to life. You even miss him in a weird way.

On the reverse of the tag, it reads, “not safe for lace.”

It’s on obviously and more fun than you ever imagined. At some point, you can’t tell if you two are letting each other get places first on not. The money is, oddly, totally irrelevant, and your career takes on a renewed joy.

Lloyd claims a target. You show up, kill them, and drop off an intricately-packaged Gucci jock strap with “Eat Me” embroidered at the back of the waistband, right above his asshole.

For good measure—and to remind him what he’s missing—you add a spritz of your perfume to the cup.

That’s where you want to be nestled, it implies. That’s where you belong, right against his dick.

Sadly, the next ‘surprise’ takes a while as you two are not after the same jobs. There’s plenty of work to go around till you find an oblong box wrapped in brown paper on the armchair ten feet from an enormous bloodstain.

 With an empty scotch glass and a crumb-covered plate beside it, you know Lloyd’s been trolling for your attention. His snacky, sweet-tooth is somewhat notorious.

Your inconspicuous, purposefully plain gift waits patiently, the soft whipped cream of a strawberry shortcake dripping down its serving stand.

There’s no rush though, and you make a little ritual of opening it to reveal a beautiful dildo with golden speckles throughout the silicone molding. It is absolutely from a cast of Lloyd; you’d know that curve anywhere.

If that’s as close as you can get? Fine by you…

The rest of him barely participated before anyway.

Geneva.

Lloyd’s pissed and tired after the flight. Suzanne is the fucking worst and made him repeat the plan three times because her pea-brain is as sharp as a limp dick.

He dances down the plane steps, noticing a welcome party that is not his people. One sunglasses-clad, black-suited fellow walks up to Lloyd with an enormous gift basket.

It’s so goddamn pink Lloyd recoils and squints his eyes.

Good christ, it’s hideous. He loves it in a sick way.

Pink cellophane, fuzzy pink handcuffs, a sparkling fuchsia cock ring, rose gold anal beads with pesto-colored rope connecting them, and strawberry flavored lube.

Mood restored, Lloyd chuckles, turning on his heel to get back on the plane.

He’s going home. He has toys to play with.

He doesn’t bother to explain shit to Suzanne. One of these days, he’s just going to pop her for free.

This one doesn’t coincide with a job at all, but that’s what makes it all the sweeter to you.

Delivered to the place you’re staying for the week is an adorable, yellow stuffed rabbit with a pull-cord. Across its tummy is 'sunshine' in cursive letters.

You honest-to-god squeal in delight as you listen to each of the five custom recordings programed in.

Lloyd tuts then says “should have sized up my ring, you cock-drunk whore,” a deep gasp and a squelch punctuates the end.

Oh boy. It’s Christmas in July. Happy you!

You fake your own shocked gasp at the second soundbite.

“Know you don’t taste like fucking strawberries,“ he grunts before bitterly adding, “but I’ll take one for the team and eat that pussy any day.”

Third: “Bet I was the best you ever had, even when I wasn’t awake, you poor thing. So needy…”

Fourth: “How hard did you come, Sunshine? Be honest.” He laughs like the cat who got the cream to end that one.

Finally, the last of the pulls is just the slapping noise of him jerking off and finishing with a deep moan.

Now, at least, you know what Lloyd sounds like when he comes.

Utterly self-satisfied, Lloyd goes about his life of luxury.

He’ll be damned if he’s going to break and go to you. Fuck that. The thrill of this taco-and-hotdog game is worth it anyway.

He still works, and not every job revolves around you.

For one such fulfilled contract, he’s being paid in artwork and has the delivery men bring in the large framed canvas to uncover in his current villa’s sitting room.

The expectation is a well-known portrait.

It’s a painting alright, but it’s…very modern.

Lloyd crosses his arms over his chest and smothers a proud grin.

The torso and open legs of you stretch out facing the viewer, gold leaf embossed nipple clamps and their chains dangle over your stomach, and the blunt end of a golden dildo sits nestled in your cunt. There are brush strokes and paint visibly raised from the surface.

He wonders whether it was done from a photo or whether you sat there, bare, for some artist to reference for hours, maybe even days.

Lloyd had a spot in mind for his real payment, but this will do nicely. He’s quite pleased with the view. It shall go over the mantle in the bedroom, and he shall fuck whoever he wants—his fist included—while staring right at it.

The half dozen or so other people in the villa’s great room who can all see the painting don’t say a fucking word.

How the hell is he supposed to top this?

A/N: Full disclosure, I'm pretty sure this is the funniest thing I'll ever write, and I'm okay with that. I can't stop laughing 🤣🤣🤣

[Next Part: A Blazer Full of Bullet Holes]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

blue art deco divider by @/saradika-graphics--thank you for your beautiful work!

[alienara-simblr]

⭐ The Lots Master Meshes 🛠️

🧰 These meshes are necessary for the lots in the different areas of the neighborhood to display correctly. Indeed, there are always missing meshes in the original lot package file, especially building set meshes and food stands.

🔗 All links provided on my blog lead to the original presentation and download pages of the presented content. This is to be able to make you aware of the work of the creators of this content, and thus, to credit them for their work. I do not provide direct links to storage platforms for creations other than my own (except one due to the death of the creator and disappearance of the content).

🏆 I try to list as much credit as possible for all the sets I use in my creations but this takes a lot of time and will be the subject of a separate post.

🚩 I have added icons in the legend to indicate in which areas the terrains requiring these meshes are located.

🔷 TS1 BaseGame - Neighborhood 1&2 Houses

🚕 TS1 Hot Date - Downtown

🐕 TS1 Unleashed - OldTown

🔮 TS1 Makin’ Magic - MagicTown

MODS : 🚕🐕🔮TS4 shadow file by @lordcrumps 🔷🚕🐕🔮 Object Freedom Mod by @fwaysims 🚕🐕🔮 Better nightlife mod by @criquette-was-here or any shader replacement that uses it ! 🚕🐕🔮 Very Highly Recommended : V1 Default Replacement Community Lot Phone by @hugelunatic 🚕 Hot Date Phone Booth Cover by @lilakartoffelbrei 🐕Planting Overhaul Mod by @lamare-sims on MTS 🚕🐕🔮CEP-Extra Expresso Machine by @hugelunatic 🚕🐕 The 4t2 Woohoo Dumptser by @themediocresimblr 🔮 The Invisible Putter by pfish on MTS

OMSPs : 🔷🚕🐕🔮"Walk Around & Through Blocks" and "A Whole New Dimension" by SilentLucidity on MTS

SHOPPING & FOOD DISPLAYS : 🔮 The Functional PopCorn Machine by @crispsandkerosene 🔮 The Functional Cotton Candy Machine by @crispsandkerosene retextured by @haut-gothique 🐕🚕 Hot Date Ice Cream Stand by @crispsandkerosene 🐕 The Grand Delusions Mask Display by @simi-simmer 🐕🚕 Functional Floral Display by @simi-simmer 🚕 🔮 Witchy Brew and Candy Jars by @jacky93sims 🚕 Butter Cookies, Monster Rice Krispies, Cookie Jars, Gift Boxes « Chocolate Covered Strawberry » and Turkish Sweets Boxes by @jacky93sims 🐕🚕🔮 Custom Perfume Rack by @pforestsims

BUILD SETS : 🔷🚕🐕🔮 Nooks and Niches complete set by buggybooz 🔷 The Cathedral Set (windows only required) by @julsfels 🔮 The 'Old Mason' Architectural Series by holysimoly 🔷🚕🐕🔮 Bourbon St Set and its recolors by shakeshaft 🔮 "Flags on a wire" connecting column by @haut-gothique 🚕🐕🔮 Handpainted Flowers by @beautifulnerdkitty 🔮 Rocks by @beautifulnerdkitty 🐕🔮 Miasmata Conversions by Ohbehave 🚕🐕🔮 Rocks and the Modulair Rock Stairs by marvine 🔮 Bougainvillea Fall Recolors by Rebecah reuploaded by me

BUYING SETS : 🐕🔮MagicTown’s Outhouse by @crispsandkerosene 🔮 Pocci’s Bird leg Table converted by @shastakiss on GoS 🔷🐕🚕🔮 The Lantern Pack retexturized by @pforestsims 🔮 Road Sign by @pforestsims 🚕🔮 Tech Columns Floor Lamp by @pforestsims 🔷🐕🚕🔮 The Lamp Collection and add-ons by @pforestsims 🚕 The Neon Set by @pforestsims 🐕🚕 The Aquarium make-over Kit by @pforestsims on MTS 🔷🔮 The Country Kitchen by @julsfels 🔷🔮 Amelia Set, Liam build Set, Xavier Bedroom by Adele 🔷🔮 Amelia Expansion set by JA 🔮 Skyrim Chicken by eva on GoS 🔮 The Tales of Bagoas Set by hriveresse 🔮 Castaway Temple Ruins by devilsrope 🔮 3t2 The Draped Demise by @hafiseazale 🚕 3t2 Decorative Mechanical Bull by Mistyfluff and my recolor

🌟 I would like to take this opportunity to say a big thank you to all the content creators who made my project possible. This post is about missing meshed in lots files, but a post will be made to credit everyone. 👏

[gallusrostromegalus]

You mentioned once that Mai Valentine likes her sweets boozy and also you had a bunch of other preferred flavor profiles for TPOFATGIF. Any chance of something similar for AEIWAM?

I know Kubo made canon notes on everyone's favorite and least favorite foods, but this is for the AEIWAM versions of the characters. Here's much of the cast's food preferences, as characterization practice:

Ichigo:

As much as he gets teased for it and his name, Ichigo loves him some fruit. He will inhale any fruit or juice left unattended within arm's reach of him in seconds. Melons, berries, pineapple, pears, guava- he does not care. There is fruit, it's going in him. Isshin is pleased his son likes healthy snacks but sometimes the grocery bill can get alarming. Ichigo's least favorite food is anything with capsaicin in it- being a ginger means he's unusually pain-sensitive and with an equally touchy tummy. It burns on both ends and all the way through the middle too.

Orihime:

Tatsuki likes to joke that the gods were drunk when they made Orihime, and they put her taste buds in backwards. Truth is, Orihime is a sensation-seeking kind of autistic girl and loves novel flavors more than anything else. She read "salt, fat, acid, heat" and took it's advice very literally, so you end up with things like "cream (fat) of tuna (salt) balsamic vinegar (acid) sriracha (heat) casserole" . The only thing Orihime really dislikes is foods she's gotten bored of.

Chad:

Beef. The boy needs beef. Chad spent his early adolescence on his Grandfather's Cattle Ranch in Mexico, allowed to eat as much red meat as he wanted and his physique shows it. Now he's back in Japan where it's prohibitively expensive and he is DYING. Please. He is a large carnivore. He can't live like this. Chad's least favorite food is ironically, his most reliable source of red meat: the fast food burger. It's not the same. It mocks him.

(More Karakura Gang and Some Captains under the cut)

Uryuu:

Uryuu is the son of a doctor and a little weirdo in his own right and he will assemble a baked potato or disassemble a slice of pizza with surgical precision. He just sort of likes customizing his food before he eats it. Hence, his least favorite foods are things where all the ingredients are mixed together and inseparable, like stews and casserole.

Tatsuki:

Tatsuki is a hot wings afficionado- she likes all the flavors, because there's a lot of really nice flavor interactions in the milder sauces, but also, the hotter the better. She once entered a hot wings eating contest in middle school where every round was hotter than the last and sailed easily into the "scorpion death pepper" round before being declared the winner, much to her disappointment. She was still hungry, and those were a 5/10 at most for her. Tatsuki's least favorite food with anything with even a hint of clams or other mollusc shellfish in it. She hasn't been diagnosed with an allergy, but given her extreme aversion to shellfish, she's not going to press her luck.

Keigo:

Keigo lives on a rancid diet of junk food, novelty soda, and instant ramen and likes it that way, thank you. Ichigo periodically makes him eat an apple at sword point to get some kind of fiber and vitamin into him. Keigo's least favorite food is anywhere can't cook in a microwave, and all vegetables.

Mizuiro:

Mizuiro is way too vain about his skin and hair to live on Keigo's garbage raccoon diet, but he can't cook to save his life. His favorite foods are multivitamins and everything he can get delivered, and his least favorite is anything deep-fried and greasy

Rukia:

Rukia was raised in fantasy medieval Japan, but is a "I'll try anything once!" Girl and this has lead to her favorite food being Oregano. Favorite condiment. Puts it on everything, even ice cream. Once things calm down a little when she returns to soul society, she gets Orihime to send her a "care package" of assorted spices, snacks and modern "puzzle" foods (juice boxes and ramune) to show to Byakuya, who starts inviting friends and coworkers over to try these things too, and the resulting video makes Ichigo laugh hard enough to rip out a few of his stitches. Rukia's least favorite food is jellybeans, because she can never remember the flavors and keeps putting bad combinations of them in her mouth.

Renji:

Like Chad, Renji needs his fucking protein, and sure loves him some beef, but he's also got that ADHD Hyperfocus going on and regularly forgets to eat so while he's not specifically partial to the flavors, his favorite food in terms of 'keeping him alive and hale' is nutritional protein shakes. Like Ichigo, Renji is also partial to fresh fruits and has the spice tolerance of a recipe blogger from Kansas, but he does have an extremely strong aversion to Bananas that he refuses to explain.

Byakuya:

Byakuya is a sensation-avoidant autist who has had his aversions largely ignored in favor of "you need to uphold the clan honor by being POLITE at this dinner and EATING WHAT YOU ARE SERVED, you can throw up in private later", so his regular diet is quite mild and limited, which moderately terrified Unohana (she IS partially responsible for keeping him alive). A chance encounter with Zaraki Kenpachi accidentally saved the Kuchiki line because he introduced a New Food to Byakuya by being normal about it, and now Byakuya loves BEANS. All of them. Red, Black, Soy, Kidney, Mung, Great Northern, Purple String, Adzuki, Anasazi, Edamame, Pinto, Pole, Striped, Yard, Garbanzo and Navy. Peas too- English, snap, snow, lentil, black-eyed and split. Paired with already-acceptable rice, this makes his limited diet startlingly nutritionally complete and high in fiber. He'll never eat squid or octopus again if he can help it though.

Kenpachi:

AEIWAM Zaraki Kenpachi was raised by eagles and it shows through in weird places, like how he insists on eating poultry and fish bones like his mother taught him to. In fact, the bones from deep-fried chicken are his favorite, and he will help himself to the bones other people don't want. He has a cast iron stomach that rarely gets upset and a notable sweet tooth, but is extremely picky about texture. This surprises some people who think that living as a beggar for a few centuries means he'd eat anything, and comes as no surprise to anyone who HAS been that destitute- an off texture is often your only warning before a potentially lethal case of food poisoning. Hence, Kenpachi's least favorite foods are anything "slimy", which puts him off many sauces and seaweed-based dishes.

Yachiru:

AEIWAM Zaraki is significantly more amiable and cunning than his canon counterpart because, realistically, he had to keep Yachiru fed. No village will let a random murder-hobo in to eat, especially if he's broke, so Zaraki got exceptionally good at ingratiating himself with strangers and getting hired at odd jobs in a hurry. This was an extremely sharp learning curve because he found Yachiru when she was an infant and not yet weaned, and he had to go to some fairly extreme measures to get milk for her. It's a point of pride for him that his little girl has never gone to bed hungry, even if he did. Yachiru is very aware of the fact she has historically eaten better than her father, despite his best efforts to disguise it, so her favorite foods are anything she can share with him- bags of small candies or chips or other snacks she can divy up and insist he eat too. She gave Zaraki his sweet tooth sharing candy like this, but anything she can share while eating is a favorite. Her least favorite is boiled vegetables. There is nothing that can make boiled broccoli worth eating.

Unohana:

Retsu Unohana has severe ADHD and makes food choices based first on the dopamine reward she gets from eating them, and the medical knowledge of "you need vitamins and fiber too, bitch" second. She would live on high-octane coffee with an excessive amount of sugar and cream if it were nutritionally complete, but alas. She does have a notes fondness for organ meats like liver, kidneys and lungs because they taste "richer" to her, and the novelty appeals as well. However, she has seen the horrors of what The Wrong Mushroom will do to a human body up close far too many times, and it's put her off eating fungi entirely. She'll eat her own hand before she'll eat a mushroom.

Komamura:

Food is both a joyful and distressing experience for Sajin. Joyful, because his exceptionally sensitive sense of smell and taste means he gets to experience layers to even the most simple foods that humans can't even begin to comprehend. Distressing, because humans have a very weak sense of taste and over-season their food accordingly, often with poisons. A lot of the reason he started wearing a helmet was less about fear that humans would attack him for being a wolf man, or that he would inspire undue fear in others, and more that he has a hard time saying "No" to people, who keep unwittingly offering him food full of toxic onions or worse, grapes. The helmet was not easily removed, and kept the dangerous gifts at bay. Fortunately, modern humans are more aware of things that will poison him and more willing to make accommodations on his behalf. Still, his least favorite food is Raisins, which keep being added to otherwise perfectly good dishes, like someone deciding to sprinkle a bit of Water Hemlock in their tacos. He still keeps the Occasional "Carnivore Outing" he and Zaraki take to the distant mountains to celebrate their shared cultural heritage a secret though, because he's not sure most of his friends and colleagues are ready to learn that his favorite food is "Elk bone marrow, either still hot from the kill or after it's been buried in dirt for a week", but at least these days he has Zaraki "You know how it is with Liver and Eagles" Kenpachi to commiserate and split the carcass with.

Tousen:

Kaname did his required tour of duty in the living world in Oaxaca, Mexico and while he was there he developed a taste for Chapulines, or fried grasshoppers. He didn't mention this delicacy when he returned to soul society, not out of fear that people would think he was a freak- his coworkers already largely did, either because of his blindness or his Blackness, if not both- but because one of the few coworkers who he genuinely liked and got along with was Lieutenant Mashiro, whose favorite animal is Grasshoppers. His least favorite food is any alcoholic beverage or boozy dessert, because the one time he tried drinking with some friends from Shinigami academy, he developed a case of the spins just two drinks in and immediately became completely disoriented and couldn't right himself, and quickly became too nauseous and panicked to speak. His friends were having a GREAT time and thought Kaname was doing his usual wallflower nonsense until Liza Yadomaru finally realized something was amiss and she and Love Aikawa ended up taking him on a drunken sprint to the emergency room. He got better by morning but now even the smell of alcohol makes him feel sick again.

[moonshynecybin]

have we talked about what valentine’s day looks like for rosquez. post-reconciliation imo it’s vale going overboard sending marc 500 roses it’s an instagram photo dump showing him off with a borderline-obscene caption (imagine they’ve gone public. perhaps in the aftermath of the coming out au?) it’s custom la perla and solid gold nipple clamps. marc secretly glowing abt being showered in affection it’s proof vale loves him and isn’t going to leave him

also im just putting this together but isn’t valentine’s day like. the day of vale’s name? something like that? EVEN MORE reason for him to be super into it.

let’s not talk abt 2013-2015 valentine’s day…

you are a genius who has predicted something i was literally already writing!!!!! he absolutely gets him hot girl sex gifts for their valentine's day slash joint birthday week which is the hot girl sex gift SUPERBOWL for them. personally i was thinking lingerie and i wrote a tiny fic (~500 words) about it thats under the cut! get outta my brain !

There’s package sitting inside Marc’s motorhome, after testing.

That's not unusual in itself. It’s his birthday tomorrow, and he’s been fielding various gifts from his sponsors for the last few days, all brightly colored hats and huge sunglasses— messages from whatever company, carefully typed on impersonal letterhead. But this one feels different. It’s unmarked, the box a smooth white cream— not very tall, but wide. Marc crosses to the table the box is resting on and lifts off the lid, testing the weight. It’s heavier than it looks, well made.

It’s clearly expensive.

Once he sets the lid to the side,the first thing his eyes catch on is tissue paper, delicate and silvery, folded neatly. A small card made of thick paper is nestled on top, just over where the carefully arranged wrapping conjoins. He picks it up.

Marc, familiar handwriting spells, and Marc smiles. He knows who sent this. It's not one of his sponsors. Thought this would suit you, I hope you like it. -Vale. There’s a small heart scribbled after the message, followed by a cartoon turtle, unhurried and messy. Beloved.

But it’s still not Valentino’s usual style, and Marc raises an eyebrow, curious. It's actually not technically his birthday, its the day before— it’s Vale’s birthday, and there’s not a lot he wouldn’t give Marc in person, especially when they've been floating around the same paddock. Typically, if Vale is going to give him something, he likes to be there. Likes to lay back and watch Marc’s face as he opens whatever elegantly wrapped treasure he’s picked out for him, eyes greedy on Marc’s expression.

He likes to know that Marc enjoys the things he gives him.

So it’s notable, that he isn’t here. That he left this in Marc's motorhome while he was testing on track, just before Vale was scheduled to spend a little bit of time running things through with his academy riders. He had wanted Marc to find this alone. To turn over what to do with it. Contemplate any possibilities.

Marc's skin feels too warm, too sensitive, the cool air of the motorhome giving him goosebumps. His thumb lingers in the edge of the tissue paper, feeling its thin edges, reveling in the sensation. In the way the anticipation fills him up, a pleasant buzz that thrums under his skin.

It's not dissimilar from the moment before a race, that knifes edge of expectation.

He bites his lip and opens the present, carefully moving the paper away to reveal what’s inside. Something silky catches against his knuckles. He stops.

It’s Vale’s birthday, he remembers.

This isn’t a gift for him, exactly. Pale yellow silk and lace greets him, delicate. Carefully constructed. Marc doesn’t have to check to know they’re in his size.

He grins.

[lclrcs]

Under Grease-Stained Bandages Pt. 1

summary: charles is a mechanic who has made a name for himself and max is a racer who has been admiring his work for a while. the blonde wants charles on his team, but charles prefers to fly solo.

Charles had always had an affinity for cars. His blood flowed red, but in the same red that paints a Ferrari. That same blood dribbled down; his fingertips torn bloody after messing around with the engine of the client who sat nearby in the waiting room. Sweat prickled at his brow. The room was stiflingly hot. The sun poured heat through the open garage door. During the summertime, regulating how hot it was in the shop was almost impossible. The smell of hot rubber tires smothered him, an combination of sweat and oil coating him like another layer of skin. He raised his arm, wiping away the bead of sweat to realize how destroyed his fingers had become. Almost instantly after his realization, he felt a surge of pain in his fingers.

Wiping his hands on the rag he had half-tucked into his pocket, he stepped back from the car. He bent down, tugging at the toolbox drawers until a package of band aids came into sight. He took a few from the box and wrapped his fingers. He sighed, shaking his head as he readied his customer service persona to talk to the individual in the waiting room. The cold metal door handle felt heavenly against his hot skin. Pushing open the door, Charles leaned against the counter in the waiting room. He basked in the cold, air-conditioned room, staring intently at the blonde man who was completely enraptured in whatever was on his phone. If you had asked Charles to describe the man sitting in the waiting room, he’d say he was just like any other rich white boy who grew up in a safe cul-de-sac away from the dangers of the world.

“Your car is set,” Charles broke the silence, his voice still soft as if he was scared to be too loud. “I didn’t know my mechanic was French.” The blonde teased, sliding his phone into his pocket as he stood up. Charles rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind some light teasing about his accent but calling him French always ruined it. Charles spun the man’s keys around his finger before quickly tossing them towards the blonde. “Take better care of your car blondie.” He murmured, sliding behind the counter to close the guy out. “Yeah, yeah...” the blonde reached for his pocket, retrieving a wallet and pulling out a card. Charles took the card, and with a newfound curiosity, he flipped the card over to learn the man’s name. Something about the man having his last name abbreviated to fit on his license plate was amusing to Charles. “What?” The blonde man, Max, questioned. The brunette shook his head, fighting a giggle that was slowly rising up his throat, and handed back the card. “Nothing, nothing at all mate.”

Max shoved his card into his pocket, exiting the shop swiftly. As soon as the bell lightly jingled, Charles let out a small giggle as he ran his hand through his hair. He looked down at the register screen again, frowning when he realized the time. Dragging his feet, he walked back to the shop and closed the garage doors. He stooped down, locking the doors to notice a small gold pin had been left on the floor. He scooped it up, pocketing it for later. Usually, he would never close his shop so early, but he had appointments that he’d been pushing off for months that could no longer avoid. As he walked back into the waiting room area, his eyes immediately went to the mysterious pile of cash that had appeared on the counter. He furrowed his brow, walking over to the counter with unsure strides. There was $1,000 discarded on the counter, neatly bundled, and a cream card. The card had a faint bull design in the background, and in dark red writing, a small smile was drawn. Charles slipped the card into his pocket and tucked the money into his savings jar that he’d left under the register.

The next day, Charles followed the same routine he did every Thursday morning. He woke up at 5, went for a run at 5:15, showered at 7, ate at 7:30, got dressed at 7:45, and was at work by 8:30. Usually, work would be slow until 9. But when Charles turned into the parking lot of his work, there was already a car waiting. The engine idled, a rhythmic beat gently vibrating the ground around it. The brunette took a deep breath, parked his car, and walked into his shop. Ignoring the lobby, he made a B-line to the shop. He unlocked the three garage doors, pushing them up to let the cool morning air fill the shop.

“So, do you ignore all of your clients?” Charles jumped, spinning around to see the same blonde from yesterday leaning against the large frame of the garage doors. The man had a waggish look on his face, a mischievous glimmer in his eye as he pushed himself off the thin frame to walk towards the brunette. “Or am I special?”

[applica]

wish i was a robotgirl so bad rn. i would come off the assembly line fresh, bright, and shiny. top of the manufacturer's line but definitely not top of the industry. Probably made by dell and microsoft.

I'd have all the diagnostics run, the standard tests making sure I wasn't defective. They'd find something wrong, something small and inconsequential, probably a missing screw in my exterior front lower abdomen plate, but that's just one of 8 screws and its not structural and the glue and other 7 screws hold it in fine and it's not visible from the outside and besides, there's deadlines and quotas to be met, so they mark me as good and send me off to packaging and shipping after wiping my memory, as is standard procedure.

I'd get folded neatly and placed into soft styrofoam inserts and slid into a tight comfy cardboard box by big gentle autonomous arms. My box would be placed back on a conveyor and be moved through the factory, eventually sliding onto rollers where it smashes into all the other boxes, hard, but gentle enough not to leave a mark on me or the box. We'd all be gradually picked up and placed onto pallets in groups of four, wrapped tightly in that industrial plastic you see at places like costco. We'd be loaded by forklift onto trucks and trains, and shipped across the country. My group would be loaded onto a train and rolled out through vast plains and deserts, eventually arriving at a major city and being unloaded onto trucks, driven to big box stores, and placed into product storage.

After a week or two, we'd be unwrapped from our plastic binding our boxes together, and placed on shelves. I'd be in the tech aisle, next to a few other models of robot. Not that many though, the store selling me isn't focused on tech and so just carries a few of the most popular models from the most popular brands. I'm placed on the lower shelf, my box being fairly large, with conventional laptops, desktops, and video game consoles on the shelf above me, with the occasional demo unit interrupting the line of boxes. My model line has their own demo unit, courtesy of my manufacturer, powered down and posed attractively to entice customers, with a paper insert stuck on it's faceplate imitating it's powered up state.

I would sit on the shelves for about a week, before being picked up by two sets of hands and gently placed into a cart. Even with how large the cart is my box is large and unwieldy enough that it leans against the child seat, where the customer has stacked fragile items. They continue shopping, whoever helped them stack me in their cart going off to continue with whatever they need next.

I'm carted around the store, past televisions and and smart speakers, past candy and ice cream, past fruit and vegetables, past breads and cheeses, and eventually to the checkout. My barcode would be scanned and I would be rolled out to the customer's old economy sedan in the parking lot. They would load everything into the trunk, but I would be placed in the passenger seat, still in my box.

At home, I'm unloaded and placed in their living room. They slice the bottom of my box and pull it up. They slice the packing tape binding the two halves of the styrofoam shell I've been cocooned in for the past few weeks, and pull it apart. I'm now exposed in the open, out of the comfy familiar warmth of my packaging, with only zip ties constraining my movement. They cut the zip ties, and press the power button, before sitting back on their couch.

The feeling is immediate for me. I immediately began starting, bios flashing by quickly as I boot into my operating system and enter setup mode. My new owner pulled up their phone and opened my control app. They scan the QR code my faceplate is displaying to pair, and I'm soon connected to their phone, home network, and cellular provider. They enter their basic information, name, age, gender, pronouns, etc. They then enter more specific info, their weekly shopping list, dietary restrictions, preferred stores, preferred brands, all sorts of rich data I send back to my manufacturer. I am connected to their other devices, smart fridge, oven, microwave, washer, car, television, that kind of thing.

They finish their setup, and I am rebooted to finish prepping my sensors and fully activate for the first time.

My cameras are the first to come online. The wash of color and light is beautiful, a full 360 degree view around my body popping in. My inbuilt LIDAR scanner begins working with my GPS to map my surroundings, and my system started organizing all the data I was receiving.

I adjusted my focus and saw my owner, confirming that it was them via their phone and stored their face into my permanent memory. I played the startup audiovisual file which gave them details about me and what I could do, all premade by my manufacturer of course.

Once I'd finished my whole song and dance, my owner asked me to fetch the remote, one of the suggested tasks to ensure I was working properly. I would do this flawlessly of course. They would then watch TV, leaving me to my own devices. I walked around the entire house, mapping the whole area, which took a while, but I still didn't have any tasks to do, so I stood idle on my charging station in the living room.

I was going somewhere with this but I'm not sure if it's worth it anymore tbh. let me know if i should continue because i wrote this a couple days ago but looking back over it idk if its lame and cringe or not so yeah.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Christmas Special

Christmas festivities featuring your local kidnappers Yandere! Soldier and Yandere! Sugar Daddy.

Yandere! Soldier who spends all Christmas morning at mass. And when he comes home, snow thick on his uniform, he smells like incense.

"Come see. I've brought you something."

There's a bottle of strong vodka and a frosted fruitcake waiting for you on the counter. You watch him unwrap the cake, your mind wandering to your family, to Christmas mornings when you were still an angsty teen. Did they think you were dead by now? Were they still looking for you?

He cuts a thick slice and holds it to your lips. It's sweet and dense and leaves your mouth sticky.

Yandere! Soldier who tilts your chin towards him and casually runs his thumb across your bottom lip to catch any stray crumbs.

"Let's drink, yeah?"

The vodka is icy cold and bitter. But the taste makes you think of friends and university and late nights when you were too tipsy to stand but oh so warm inside. You throw back more shots than normal, trying to chase the memories.

It's only when he gently pulls the bottle away that you realise you're far past tipsy. You're straight hammered.

You stumble when you stand and he's quick to catch you, one strong arm around your waist.

"You've got no head for drink, моя любовь."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it's time for bed."

You swat at him, irritated. "No. The Russian you used. What does it mean?"

He gently steers you toward the bedroom. "It means my love."

You twist around to face him. "Do you really love me?"

He raises a brow. "Alcohol loosens your tongue, doesn't it?"

He's quiet for a moment, studying you. The flush of your cheeks, the curve of your neck... You're everything he's ever wanted.

"Yes. I really love you. Я клянусь, что да."

I swear I do.

You stand on your toes and kiss him. Cradle his face in your palms and feel the heat of him bleed into you. You're so awfully cold, so awfully lonely. You'll regret it in the morning, but for now you press into him and chase the taste of vodka on his lips.

He pulls away and presses sweet, ticklish kisses against your inner wrist. He can feel your pulse racing.

"я полагаю, это мой рождественский подарок."

I suppose this is my Christmas present.

He grabs your thighs and picks you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, terrified of falling. Your breath ghosts across his neck and your nails dig stinging crescents into his muscles.

He doesn't say it out loud, but it's the best gift he's ever gotten.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy has a tree stacked high with gifts. On Christmas morning, he wakes you up with a kiss and a mug of your favourite hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and cinnamon sticks.

At first, you assume most of the boxes are just for decoration. There's over a dozen boxes waiting for you - they can't all be gifts, right?

But you should know him better by now. You unwrap present after present, gasping at each one.

A set of custom perfumes from a high fashion brand. Ten different pieces of Tiffany jewellery. A genuine fur coat. Your first pair of Louboutin heels.

Keys to a new car.

You sit in the middle of a treasure trove, struggling to wrap your head around it. He rests his chin on your shoulder and pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes, it's incredible." You turn to face him. "But babe, this must have cost a fortune. I can't accept all of this."

He tilts his head. "Of course you can. I got it all for you."

You're about to argue when he cuts you off. "You said you got me something too?"

You nod and hand him two packages. Your dollar store wrapping paper is glaring cheap next to his.

He unwraps his gifts slowly. The first one is a journal you picked up in a thrift store, weeks before your argument left you trapped with him. Back when you still had your freedom.

You got your artist friend to emboss his name in gold leaf on the front cover. He flips it open to the first page.

To my tech genius boyfriend. This is what we normies call paper. You use it to record all the times your girlfriend is just absolutely incredible, got it? -y/n

He smirks and rubs the page between his fingers.

"I've only heard distant legends of this 'paper'... How fascinating."

You groan. "It seemed funny at the time okay?"

His next gift is a pottery vase, with elegant fluted handles. It's a deep cream with flecks of reddish iron bleeding through. He stares at it, his expression blank.

Your heart drops.

The truth is, you spent months looking for that specific vase. And when you finally found someone willing to sell, the price they named made your jaw drop. You haggled like hell for it. Practically begged the seller on your hands and knees to let you pay it off over a few months. Until this morning, it was a gift you were proud to give him.

But his gifts to you took all morning to unwrap, while all you can offer is a shitty notebook and some amateur pottery. You hate not being able to return his generosity in equal measure. You hate feeling like you're always giving him the short end of the stick. Even now, when you have every reason to hate him, it hurts that you can't spoil him like he does you.

He finally looks up at you, dazed. "This is an original Murazaki. How did you know I wanted one?"

"You mentioned it a few months ago. When we were having dinner together in my apartment."

He puts the vase down carefully.

"You remembered?"

It's your turn to be confused. "Of course? You were really upset about it. You said he was your favourite artist but that you could never find any of his stuff for sale."

He stares at you like he's trying to pick you apart. You look down, embarrassed.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't get you more gifts. I feel like an ass. Like the world's worst girl-"

He grabs you before you can finish and pulls you flush against him. He buries his face in your hair. He takes a deep breath, like he needs to control himself.

"You remembered."

He kisses your temple and then presses his forehead against yours. His voice is low and loving and just a little shaky.

"Oh y/n, you're the best gift I could ask for."

Bonus: a yandere who only has one thing on his Christmas wishlist - you.

You wake up under his Christmas tree, cold and confused and still groggy from the sleeping pills he slipped you.

Your hands are tied behind your back and there's a cherry red gag in your mouth. You squirm, trying to pull your hands free. The floor is icy against your naked skin. Wait, naked?

You look down, horror clawing it's slow way up your throat. Most of your clothes are gone. And you're almost completely wrapped in ribbon.

Your thighs are held together with an excruciatingly tight bow. Two green rosettes are pinned to the lace of your bra. You can't see it, but there's a cute red bow stuck on your head too.

The door opens and you hear heavy footsteps on the basement stairs. You squirm, increasingly desperate to get loose.

"Wouldcha look at that? Santa brought me exactly what I asked for."

Your kidnapper squats down next to you, his eyes roaming your body. Taking in all the curves and dips. Mapping it out like it's his to explore. He reaches out and tugs at the ribbon tied around your throat.

"My girl all wrapped up under the Christmas tree."

He grabs your chin and tilts your face up towards his. His eyes are dark - the pupils blown out wide with lust, with hunger.

"Merry Christmas baby. I promise it'll be one you never forget.

[narrators-journal]

Two,

Everyone thank my lovely, dear boyfriend for being the beta reader. Bc without him, this chapter would’ve been a hot MESS. The dialogue would’ve been utter trash and I would’ve been using the word ‘which’ so much that it could’ve been a drinking game QuQ. Anywho! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I prommy the bois will come in by the next chapter! Promise!

Table of contents: Here

First part: Here

Next part: Here

Beta read by my lovely boyfriend!

When morning came, your friends had laid off on their jokes about demonic glucose guardians or selling your soul. The whole ritual seemed to be forgotten in favor of the usual gossip of the day. Your snarkier friend’s most recent nightmare customer at her part-time job, the pains of a new house that your other friend’s GPS couldn’t find, the agonies of group project organization from your business major friend, stuff like that. So, like your friends, you also put the event behind you.

Instead, you turned your attention to the daily hunt through your kitchen for breakfast before you settled down back in front of the AC. Your laptop and poptart at the ready for the day’s classwork and essays.

While the early morning sun couldn’t reach you and the hours were early, your task was pretty easy. The rattly air conditioner was strong enough to counter the seasonal warmth, and you were able to pour all of your focus into your course work. At least, before the heat of noon overwhelmed your AC’s best attempts to keep your room cool. Even if the vents seemed to only target the good air at the spot beside you on the bed. You were too busy to question why the air flow seemed to sit against you without any breeze.

You took the increase in heat as the signal for your lunch break. So, you went ahead and shot a text into the group chat, amused at the nicknames you gave your friends within. YOU: Hey, any of you up for lunch? I don’t wanna eat in the caf alone or have more poptarts and ramen lol DR. HOUSE: Srry can’t today! I gotta give some house tours that r kinda close together. Maybe if u can wait a few hours? GIRL BOSS: no can do either, working on that group project :( REGINA GEORGE: I gotta work, but u can pop by for ur lunch bestie YOU: girl be so for real, I am NOT gonna eat your rat burgers and styrofoam fries REGINA GEORGE: Nah that’s fair bestie lmaoo

So, that attempt was a bust... You gave a sigh, too overheated to bother walking to the school’s cafeteria. Instead you got up to see what could be found to spice up the single brick of ramen you had left. For a moment you paused in the doorway of your bedroom, psyching yourself up for the stale heat to come. Ugh, I need to go grocery shopping at some point, but it is way too hot to go out. You lamented as you finally made your way to the tiny kitchen. Maybe I should go and do that. I can get some ice cream and maybe some sandw-

Your thoughts were slammed to a halt by the abrupt crash of your cabinets being thrown open as your foot hit the tile floor of your small kitchen. The sight of coffee-colored cabinets flung open stared back at you as you stood, mouth as agape as the doors and eyes the size of the saucers stashed within. Questions like What the hell was that?! and Am I legitimately haunted?! Did that stupid game seriously unleash a demon on me?! Began to swirl in your head for a heartstopping moment before you forced a deep breath in and hit the brakes on any frantic thoughts. Woah there, chill. Chill out, all you did was follow a creepypasta. There’s no way it actually summoned something. You reminded yourself, another slow breath taken as you scanned over the kitchen for any hint of an explanation.

The room wasn’t much to look at, ghosts or not. The walls were painted an eggshell white that they shared with the laminate countertops, dishes begged for forgotten soap in your cramped sink. The cabinets, now open, were nearly barren save for the box of poptarts and package of ramen you had to eat, along with paper plates, a plastic bowl, and a box of plastic silverware. If any robbers had broken in while you were focused on your coursework, they wouldn’t have found much to take. 

Yet, before you could convince yourself that you’d somehow forgotten a can of biscuits within the cabinets that had finally burst, a blood-curdling scream ripped out of your television. It startled out a small shriek out of you before you bolted to find the remote and flick off the horror movie that was suddenly on your TV. “Okay! That wasn’t normal at all!” You yelped into the ‘empty’ apartment. Your frantic yelp seemed to satisfy whatever force had taken offense to your denial, because the television stayed off and no other furniture was disturbed. You took that as your cue to snatch your laptop off of your bed, keys from the hook beside the front door, and get the hell out of there. A text sent to your friend group the moment your car’s door slammed shut. YOU: OH MY GOD GUYS IM LEGIT HAUNTED GIRL BOSS: Lmao??? YOU: MY APARTMENT’S HAUNTED! YOU: MY FUCKING CUBOARDS OPENED ON THEIR OWN AND MY TV CAME ON! GIRL BOSS: Well then, I guess you got your wish for a demonic sugar daddy :D! YOU: NOT NOW!!

After that, you tossed your phone into the passenger seat with a small growl and started your car. The dings of your other friends’ responses were ignored as you left your apartment complex for...somewhere else. It didn’t matter to you where you actually ended up. You just needed a place to stay for at least a few hours, if not the night.

After a few hours of sitting in a McDonalds you decided against staying somewhere for the night, thanks to your friends’ reassurances over text. A good thing as evening fell and you were booted from the restaurant.

DR. HOUSE: Maybe your cabinets were opened by a breeze or smthn YOU: Girl… REGINA GEORGE: And cmon, ur tv remote’s prolly just busted. Like, didn’t u throw that bitch across the room bc of a spider like a week ago lmao? Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s fucked. YOU: Yeah, you’re probably right. Except about the cupboards. Idk what’s up with them bc it sure wasn’t a breeze… GIRL BOSS: Whatever it is, I doubt it’s bc of the ritual from last night. If internet rituals were real, teenage girls would’ve summoned Jeff the killer by now lol. GIRL BOSS: tho if ur too scared to go back to ur apartment, you can come spend the night with me. Ur just gonna have to proofread a 5 page business essay :) YOU: Ick. No thanks.

With a deep breath of the dusk’s still-warm air, you took a moment to drink in the soft purple of the sky and watch as it faded into a darker blue-black before you got in your car to return home. Your friend’s assurances were mulled over in your head the entire drive, through the long walk down the halls of your apartment building, until you were finally face to face with your door.

Relax. Even if you’ve got ghosts now, ghosts can’t hurt the living, right? It’s not like you’re gonna get possessed. Plus it probably takes a fuckton of energy to throw open cabinets and turn on a TV. So, if anything, they’re exhausted now. You’re perfectly fine. You tried to reason as you listened for any signs of life behind the wooden door with a hand on the cold doorknob. One small turn was all it took to let the door open and reveal the maw of inky black that had invaded while you had sat at a wobbly fast food table. It revealed a sight that made your blood turn cold and your skin clam up.

There, across the living room, enveloped in shadows, was a spot that seemed too dark. Not in the way a far corner might be darker than a spot closer to a window, but in a far more unnatural way. After all, the patch was just against the wall. There was no crevice or alcove to explain the blob of ink. Nor was anything close enough to it to cast any shadows that looked as...humanoid, as it did.

Yet, your heart was thawed in an instant when the dark figure moved. It ran at you with such fierce speed that you could briefly tell the figure wore something of a long coat. Its swift movement caused you to shriek and slam the door shut a heartbeat before the figure could reach you. While it didn’t seem capable of phasing through the wood, you still turned on your heel and all but ran for the apartment building’s door. Fuck that, I’d rather read the essay!

[cindersfireplace]

4town Valentine's Day 💘

Jesse, Taeyoung, Aaron T, and Aaron Z walk through the hallway to their hotel room after taking a stroll around the neighborhood:

Taeyoung: There's nothing like bird watching on a calm afternoon.

Aaron T: I'm just glad there was an ice cream truck. That was one of the best chocolate cones I've ever had. Thanks for helping me chase it down Z.

Aaron Z: *walks behind him exhausted* Anything for you buddy 😊

Jesse: You good Z?

Aaron Z: *gasping * Yeah when I catch my breath next week I'll be able to function again 😮‍💨

Jesse: I wish Robaire came with us. It's good to get outside once in a while.

Taeyoung: I'm sure he has his reasons.

*Jesse opens the hotel room door*

Jesse: Yeah probab- sweet cheese and crackers! What's all this!?

*The room is decorated with heart, banners, balloons, pillows, roses, and LOTS of candles*

❤️🌹🕯️🕯️🕯️

Robaire: Welcome home my friends! I thought I would put up some decorations for Valentine's Day. *Sigh* Love is in the air.

Aaron Z: I didn't know love smelt like *sniffs* vanilla and *picks up a candle* … Late winter breeze. Whatever the heck that smells like.

Jesse: We were gone for like an hour? How?

Robaire: I'm very efficient when I'm passionate about something.

Taeyoung: So that's why Jess is always yelling at you to do your taxes.

Aaron Z: Were you not efficient enough to get any cookies or candy?

Robaire: That will be for the gift exchange.

Aaron T: Why can't we just buy cards?

Robaire: Because first of all the 4town best friend Valentine's super special gift yearly extravaganza exchange -

Aaron Z: I still say we should shorten the name.

Robaire: -is a time to appreciate each other's gifts and is a testament to how well we know each other. I love giving gifts and I put a lot of thought into them.

Jesse: And I very much still appreciate those custom ‘Art Dad’ oven mitts, but shouldn't we be focusing on our gig that day? The 4townies are so excited to see us perform One True Love live for the first time next week, and after the show I want to go to bed.

Robaire: Then go right to bed on another day of the year but you have to be there for the opening of gifts. Besides we've already drawn names for it so no going back now.

Jesse: Fiiiine if I must.

Robaire: That's the spirit.

Jesse: Uh I think a spirit is what we'll be if all of these candles stay lit. This is most definitely a fire hazard. I'm only agreeing if I get to put half of them out.

Robaire: Fiiiine. If I must.

Aaron T: We've known each other for a while shopping for each other should be easier. Right Z?

Aaron Z: Totally….

*Skip to the day before Valentine's Day at the mall*

Aaron Z: …Not.

Jesse: Come on Z it'll be fine.

Aaron Z: Not when I'm shopping for Robaire it won't. I don't know what to buy and he's definitely gonna try to one up us with his amazing gift.

Jesse: Does anything else in this world motivate you quite like your need to be better than Robaire?

Aaron Z: Absolutely, this is just a continuous priority of mine.

Jesse: So no then. Got it.

Aaron Z: I will search through every isle of this mall if it kills me. I will be victorious.

Jesse: Or you could breathe and let it go…and he's gone. Valentine's is gonna be fun.

*The next day*

Taeyoung: That must have been our best performance yet! Everybody was so excited, and despite my mild fear of heights trying to convince me otherwise, the rising heart platforms weren't so bad after all.

Robaire: Told you it would be incredible!

Jesse: Anyways now that that's over we can open gifts now.

Aaron T: Yeah guys the sooner we get this over with the sooner old man Jesse can take his nap.

Jesse: I'm not ol-

Aaron Z (whispering to Aaron T) You just want to get candy from your gift don't you?

Aaron T (whispering back): Shhhh I just care about Jesse's health…and my blood sugar.

Robaire: Anyways, who wants to go first?

Taeyoung: Me! I got T! Here you go! *Shoves present box into his hands*

Aaron T: YESSS! *Opens package* *gasp* It's a book of skateboard tricks! These are some of the most advanced out there and….a box of chocolate. Thankyou *hugs Taeyoung and whispers* This is why your my favorite.

Taeyoung: No problem at all.

Aaron T: So I guess it's my turn to give and I got Jesse *gives him a very messily wrapped package with 50 bows on it*

Jesse: Geez this looks interesting *opens the box* *gasp* ITS THE SUPER SMOOTH 3000! I've been trying to find this blender for months! My fruit smoothies will be so much better now! Thank you *lifts Aaron T off the ground in a hug*

Aaron T: Your *cough cough* welcome. Could you please put me down now?

Jesse: *Drops Aaron T* I'm next and I got Taeyoung. So here you go?

Taeyoung: *Carefully takes the box from his hand and opens it* Woah! Bird watching goggles! They even have little doves on them! Thanks Jess. I'm gonna have so much fun taking these to the park.

Jesse: I'm so glad you like them. They were some of the best I could find.

Aaron Z: I guess Robaire and I are last. You can go first Ro 😊

Robaire: No, I insist. You go first 😁

Aaron Z: Well this day means the most to you so you should go 😊

Robaire: And I like to share that joy with my friends so you should go 😁

Aaron Z: You.

Robaire: You.

Aaron Z: YOU.

Robaire: YOU!

*While these two keep going back and forth Taeyoung and Aaron T give each other a look and then open the presents themselves (whilst Jesse has too little sleep in him to deal with this)*

Taeyoung: Wow Robaire this is a really nice Destiny ‘s Child record.

Robaire: That's the exact one we listened to when we first met 🫢

Aaron T: Dang Z you got this cool basketball trophy. It even says ‘best basketball player I know ‘. Nice Sentiment.

Aaron Z: That was one of the first things I told you that I dreamed of receiving 😯

*They hold the gifts in their hands for a moment appreciating them*

Aaron Z: *clearly struggling* Th-th-th-

Robaire: Are you trying to say thank you?

Aaron Z: Nah I'm trying to say ‘That's all folks’. Yes I'm trying to say thankyou. Anyways thank you … for … this.

Robaire: Then I guess I want to say thank you too…I guess.

Jesse: Awww this is too sweet.

Aaron T: Maybe it wasn't about who got the best present after all?

Robaire: Mhm. Even though we all know it was me.

Aaron Z: Wh- if anything it was me!

Robaire: No you didn't!

Aaron Z: I got you the record that you sorry self was too BROKE for when we first met!

Robaire: I got you a CUSTOM TROPHY 🏆! Do you know how much that is in this economy?!

Aaron Z: But did I ask-

Robaire: But my-

Aaron Z: No but Robaire answer the question. Answer the question! Did I ask though? Did I?

Robaire: No but you can't just throw that in my face when I'm trying to be nice.

Aaron Z: Clearly not nice enough to admit I'm better…

*Senseless arguing continues in the background*

Jesse: T! They were this 🤏🏻 close to having a nice moment.

Aaron T: Sorry, I was just trying to bring some positivity.

Taeyoung: I'm positively sure they will be arguing for a while so I'm just gonna go now.

Jesse: Agreed. *yawn* 🥱 I'm going to sleep.

Aaron T: And I shall consume all this chocolate within the hour. I love Valentine's Day!

*Later that night Aaron Z and Robaire go to bed setting their gifts down on their night stands smiling at them and then turning the lights out to sleep*

❤️