chaimilkshake

[chaimilkshake]

if you’re ever thinking, “i wonder if a walk alone in the woods would cure me.”

it will. do it.

[chaimilkshake]

You seem super cool! Want to be friends? 😄

thank you so much!! of course :D also i love your pfp ron is one of my faves

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:o your blog layout is so pretty!!! would you like to be friends?

thank you so much!! i try to change it with the seasons :D

and yes of course! i’m always down to make friends!

[chaimilkshake]

most unrealistic part of kick-ass is that Todd stays single at the end. let me at him.

[chaimilkshake]

writing game : post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line

thank you for the tag @fear-is-truth 🤭

“ Always so thoughtful. “

no pressure! @evvyyypeters-fics @strawb3rrystar @casimirsstache

[chaimilkshake]

Too Hot to Handle - Johnny Storm x Reader

summary: Johnny’s powers can be a little much

word count: 338

warnings: none!

a/n: i’ve been on a chris evans kick lately so here’s this as my official comeback post

You had grown used to Johnny’s powers over the years. The way his touch just slightly burned your waist, the constant buying of new clothes after his are reduced to ashes. One thing you weren’t used to, however, was the sheer amount of body heat he radiated.

It was 2 o’clock in the morning, and you weren’t able to do so much as close your eyes. Johnny’s arm was wrapped around your waist, legs intertwined with yours, and you were sweating. So much, in fact, you were surprised it hadn’t woken him up.

“Johnny,” you whispered, nudging your shoulder back in an attempt to wake him up. No luck. “Johnny,” you repeated, pushing at his leg with your own.

The man woke with a groan, looking around, confused. “What?” He asked nobody in particular, still only half conscious.

“Can you please get off of me, I’m dripping with sweat,” you complain, looking back at him. With another grumble he turned over, taking the blankets with him.

A few months later, a giant box is dropped off on your porch. “Johnny?” You call out, pulling the box inside with a struggle.

“Yeah?” He asks, casually entering, holding a mug in his hand.

“What is this?” You ask, gesturing to the box.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot that was coming today. So get this, it’s a mattress.”

You stand, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. You roll your eyes. “And what does the mattress do?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” he smirked, setting the mug down on the coffee table. “It’s completely controllable on both sides. So, you can cool or heat your side, I can cool or heat my side,” he explains, pulling the box open.

He shows you every little detail and feature, and you can’t help but smile. “Also, I made you tea,” he says, handing you the hot mug.

You shake your head, kissing him quick as you use the sleeves of your shirt to dull the heat of the mug. “Always so thoughtful.”

[chaimilkshake]

happy (almost) spring !!🌸

possibly maybe hopefully making a comeback and will be writing more consistently :)

[chaimilkshake]

You’re the Risk

summary: Tate is obsessed with you.

warnings: stalking and aggressive behavior.

word count: 550

a/n: this is heaaaavily inspired by Risk by Gracie Abrams. especially the music video. so watch it after (or before) for visuals!!

You had one class together. Just one. Unbeknownst to you, Tate spent the entirety of that period staring at you, imagining your lives together. As many times as he tried to stop you to actually introduce himself, you were always two paces ahead, just out of reach. That’s when he decided he needed to know more.

So, he started following you home. Stalking your social media. Learning your schedule. Eventually, he knew everything. Who you hung out with, all of your past relationships, everywhere you’ve ever lived. There wasn’t a niche about your life that he didn’t already know.

One night, he decided, was the night. He made himself look nice, well, as nice as he could manage, and left his house. He found you where you always were at 9 pm on a Friday night, walking home. This was it. He’d catch up to you and introduce himself and you would fall madly in love with him.

Although, as he got closer, it seemed you grew anxious of his presence. Your pace quickened, and his followed, making you turn to a brisk jog. After a brief chase, you had outrun him. So, he accepted defeat. He walked home, angry. It wasn’t fair. He had spent all this time learning about you, the least you could do was give him five minutes to introduce himself.

In his rage, Tate made another decision. He wasn’t going to let you get away. He went back out, following the path you had taken to get away from him. As you walked into a house he was unfamiliar with, he persisted. You were not getting away. He followed you inside.

When Tate opened the door, instead of you, he was met with a crowded house, decorated in streamers, balloons, and banners. Instead of focusing on the group now staring at him, he was furious. How dare you hide from him. You knew he would follow you, so you came here to hide. This wasn’t fair. Why didn’t you love him like he loved you? And how dare these people not be outraged with him.

He grabbed the nearest object, throwing it at the group of balloons. He chucked the birthday cake at the wall. He smashed a bottle on the table before realizing his mistake. These people likely knew you. They’d tell you he was angry and impulsive. Quickly, he moved to hide himself in the nearest bedroom.

What was he doing? Did he want you so badly he was willing to break into somebody’s house? Before the thoughts could swallow him, his attention was diverted. A, now disturbed, couple sitting on the bed, holding each other. The universe was taunting him. Was he gonna stand there and take it? Of course not. You were at this party. Of that he was sure. He was going to find you and talk to you, face to face.

He exited the bedroom, letting his eyes sweep the party. Before he could even try to identify any of the faces, he was being shoved out the door. It slammed behind him, causing his shoulders to deflate. Though, as he turned, there you were. Arms crossed, walking down the street towards your home. This was a game, he thought. You’re the risk, and he’s gonna take it.

[chaimilkshake]

I’m so sick. I can’t do this. If he fucking wins I’m going to lose my mind. I cannot believe any of this. Every human being who voted for him is absolutely disgusting and I don’t even care anymore I’ll come right out and say it. You’re a horrible human being.

[chaimilkshake]

happy halloween!! enjoy the last day of my blog’s fall aesthetic because we go xmas mode tomorrow.

happy trick or treating!

[chaimilkshake]

me because the town i live in is actually called West View

[chaimilkshake]

Brother’s Best Friend Part 2 - Nicholas Chavez x reader

summary: you make your return to LA to celebrate the success of your brother’s show

warnings: mentions of alcohol, cooper gets drunk

word count: 1.1k

a/n: got a little carried away because i got excited oops! but i hope you guys like this as much as the first one <3

It had been a couple weeks since you had gone to visit your brother in LA. You were back at school, back at your routine, yet everything was different. Ever since you met Nicholas, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was stupid, really. You talked to him for maybe two total hours while you were there.

Yet here you sat, in your dorm at UCSD, unable to focus. You groan, shutting your laptop and setting your forehead on your desk when your phone chimes. You slowly pick your head up, grabbing it to read the message.

Coop 🐥

You willing to come back to LA this Saturday?

You consider for a moment, glancing at your calendar and finding a blank space under Saturday. Your thumbs roam over the letters before beginning to type.

You

Maybe…what for?

Coop 🐥

We’re having a party for the show’s success. Thought I’d invite my biggest supporter :)

You

Aww, well after that I think I have to. When on Saturday?

Coop 🐥

Starts at 7, but if you’d be willing to help set up?

You

Be there at 5 :p

Coop 🐥

Yay! See you then <3

You smile at the conversation between you and your brother, until it hits you. A party about the show. Nicholas was bound to be there. Whether or not you were ready to see him after he’d been on your mind for so long, you weren’t sure. But supporting your brother was much more important to you than a boy.

That Saturday, you got in your car and drove the two hour drive to your brother’s house in Los Angeles. He promised to let you stay the night in his guest room after the party, so you’d packed an overnight bag with clothes and anything else you’d need.

By the time you got there, it was around 4:45 PM. You grabbed your bag from the back, going to knock on the front door. Before you could, though, the door swung open.

“I swear you’re like a dog. You know I’m here before I even get out of the car,” you chuckle as your brother pulls you into another hug.

“Hey!” He scoffs, pulling away to look at you. “How dare I love my sister,” he chuckles, moving to let you in. He showed you upstairs to the guest room, letting you settle in. “Is that…what you’re wearing?” He asks, gesturing to your outfit.

You look down at your sweatpants and tank top, then back at him. “What, you don’t like it?” You ask, laughing at his reaction. “I’m kidding. These are just my comfy clothes for the drive up here. I brought other clothes,” you assure him, nodding.

He put a hand on his chest, blowing out air dramatically. “Thank God, because I was gonna say…” You smack his arm playfully before beginning to settle into the room and changing for the party.

A couple hours later, the house was all set up for the party. Cooper had gotten drinks while you got the food. Varieties of chips, dips, crackers, cheese, and other snacks covered the dining room table. You took your time making sure it looked nice while Cooper set up an assembly line of sorts for the drinks.

“I think it’s all set,” you say, entering the kitchen and looking around. “Good work, Coop,” you hum, grabbing a cup to pour yourself a drink.

Cooper smiles at that, shrugging as he holds his own cup. “I know, I know.”

Before you have the chance to tease him, there’s a knock at the door. “Our first guest?” You ask, setting the cup down and going to answer it. You pull the door open, smile on your face until you’re eye to eye with Nicholas.

“Oh!” You say, not having expected him. “Hi.”

Nicholas smiles back, hands in his pockets. He looked amazing. Even just in jeans and a t-shirt. “Hey,” he greeted with a nod. “I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

“Cooper texted me a couple days ago asking if I’d come,” you explain, stepping to the side. “Come on in.”

By 7:30, dozens of people filled Cooper’s house. You had to admit, you were a bit overwhelmed. You found yourself standing in a corner, simply observing everyone. Soon, Cooper came to relieve you of your misery. Albeit, a little drunkenly.

“I didn’t invite you to my party to be a Debbie Downer,” your brother slurred, leaning against the wall beside you.

You chuckle at his state, shaking your head. “Just not a party person, Coop,” you hum, watching him pout afterwards.

“You should find Nic! He’d probably loooove your company, y’know. He really likes you,” Cooper says, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

It takes all but three seconds for your face to go pink, ruining any chance of hiding how that information made you feel. “...He said that?” You ask, figuring there was no point in pretending.

“Oh yeah. Back when you visited the first time,” he nods, finishing off his drink. “Aww, my cup’s empty.” WIthout another word, he disappeared into the kitchen. You laughed at that, shaking your head. As you looked back into the crowd, you found Nicholas on the other side of the room, already looking at you.

When you made eye contact, though, it was clear he had no instinct to look away. His smile simply grew, holding your gaze. It was like staring at a car crash. You knew you really shouldn’t look, but you simply couldn’t look away.

You smiled back, raising your cup to him as a hello. Instead of responding, though, he began moving through the crowd towards you. You immediately stood up straighter, subtly trying to fix yourself up as he pushed through people.

Once he finally got through, you were stood up straight and already smiling at him. “Hi,” you said, noting the height difference between you two.

“Hi,” he replied, looking down at you, drink in hand, and seemingly thinking the same thing. “How’s school?” He asks, lifting his drink to his lips.

You chuckle at the question, watching him smile into his cup. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Good. We’re starting microscopic anatomy next week.”

Nicholas shakes his head, swallowing his drink. “Can’t say I know anything about that.”

You both share a look before bursting into laughter, your hand resting on his arm for stability.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” you manage eventually, still recovering from the giggles.

“I mean…” he starts, watching you laugh. “You don’t have to.”

You stare up at him, then, realizing what he was saying. Before you could react further, he was stepping forward, tipping your chin up and capturing your lips with his. You melted into him, a hand resting on his arm that held your face.

You never imagined yourself as the type to make out in the corner of a party, yet here you were, with your brother’s best friend.

tags: @moonlgtflwr @candlestickmick

[chaimilkshake]

edit as you write. use adverbs. use said. outline. or don’t. plot it. pants it. make a mary sue. who cares! just write whatever makes you happy. that’s all this is about. be happy in what you make.

[chaimilkshake]

my lovely city 💛🖤

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sometimes you have to skip class to go to your favorite coffee shop for an ice pumpkin chai tea latte, okay?

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to the guy with the texas plate who just cut me off leaving the mall, i hope you crash, disrespectfully

(i post while listening to the Tangled soundtrack in the McDonald’s drive through)

[chaimilkshake]

Carving Pumpkins - Peter Maximoff x reader

summary: exactly what it sounds like 🧡

word count: 483

warnings: none!

a/n: shorter but still cute imo, but let me know what you think!!

Fall was your and your boyfriend’s favorite season. Falling leaves, apple picking, and most importantly, pumpkin carving. Sitting on your back deck, music playing, and carving pumpkins was by far the highlight of the season.

You had just returned from the pumpkin patch, Peter insisting on carrying both of the heavy pumpkins from the car. You held the door for him, letting him set them outside while you went to search for the carving tools.

You opened the junk drawer, finding the scooper. Before you could move to grab the carving knives, Peter appeared behind you, arms snaking around your waist. “I love doing this with you, y’know?” He hums, chin on your shoulder?

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You hum, placing your hands on top of his.

“It’s just nice. Slowing down for a while and enjoying time with you,” he explains, eyes closing as he tucks into your neck.

The two of you stand there like that for a moment, just taking in each others’ presence, before you pull away. “Let’s carve some pumpkins, yeah?” You ask, kissing the tip of his nose.

He makes quick work, literally, of gathering the carving knives, bringing them outside to set up. “Knives, scooper, Sharpie for drawing. Missing anything?” He asks, hands on his hips as he looks at you.

You hum in thought. “Bowl for the seeds?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, a big, plastic, blue bowl is set in your hands. “Well, I think we’re set,” you laugh, moving to sit on the ground by your pumpkin.

You were always the more artsy of the two of you, but Peter always tried. He never rage quit activities like this, even if the product was looking horrendous. So, while you carved a beautiful image into your pumpkin, Peter had his tongue stuck out in concentration, making careful lines with his Sharpie.

After a good twenty minutes, he sat up straight. “Ha! Awesome!” He exclaimed, turning the pumpkin for you to see. A crooked, somehow simultaneously sharp and rounded lightning bolt drawn in sharpie stared back at you, causing you to laugh. “Aw, come on, it’s not that bad!” Peter said, although he knew exactly how bad it looked, a playful smile spread across his face.

“It’s…definitely something,” you reply after your fit of giggles. “I’m kidding. It’s beautiful,” you hum, leaning in to share a brief kiss before returning to your own pumpkin.

Now, every time someone strolls past your porch decorated with two pumpkins, one carefully constructed and one a bit more abstract, they would see a perfect representation of the artists behind them.