#anyway good day guys pride month is going well

[william-austin]

"the be more chill fandom is dead"

I just went to a craft store buying a sweatshirt so I can make the creeps shirt while in michael cosplay and the cashier goes

"just wondering but is that hoodie michael mell from be more chill?"

[shirefantasies]

The Hobbit Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

I just love fluff ok and, say it with me, I did this for LoTR 😁 (you can think of the older characters’ as being set when you guys are younger, not during book/film events 😊)

Warnings: conception mentions, some implications of infertility, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms, very long post 😂

Balin

✧ Five years. For five years you had tried. Six you and Balin had been married, happily as anything, but children never came. Your struggles had broken you down, leading you to try all the remedies well-meaning elders and healers alike recommended. Eat more good, strong foods, less of that greasy stuff. Drink this tea, it’s great for women! It’s only a bunch of tiny needles- the pain of birth will be worse anyway. Don’t be so active, let yourself relax for Mahal’s sake, girl! Remedy after remedy, you put your body through it all and put your hands up and prayed. Weeks passed and you had taken ill, attending the healers’ just to get something to ease your nausea, and that was when the questions began. Illness forgotten, you wandered in a grinning daze out of that hall and straight into your husband’s arms. When he chuckled and asked what this was all about, all you could do was snuggle into his chest deeper and whisper “It’s finally happened.”

✧ Such years leant of course to Balin being a bit extra protective of you. You often chastised him, good-naturedly of course, that he hovered so over you, and every time he would simply kiss you and say "That's right".

✧ It brought you both to tears when you began showing, when your condition had persisted long enough to be real, to last beyond the known months of danger. Forehead pressed against yours, your husband held you tightly and warmly for some amount of minutes you did not know, but minded not at all. Balin's words of love and reassurance were as music to your ears.

✧ Hormones confound you some days, pulling you from peace to ruin in mere moments, but Balin is always there with warm arms and wise words, reminding you that whatever you may think, you will never be alone.

✧ The one time during your entire pregnancy that you saw Balin cry was the day you brought home a tiny red coat that looked just like his and showed it to him with pride glowing in your eyes.

✧ He is so calm during all the worst sides of your condition, standing right by you through the good, the bad, and the ugly and dusting and cleaning you off each and every time. "We fought hard for this," he reminds you, "And I'll keep fighting with you every step of the way."

Dwalin

✧ You had wanted children all your life, certainly, and you'd seen Dwalin around them a few times, but what would he say? Your husband was a renowned warrior, hardened in the face of blood and steel and tolerant of no foolishness. But still he went soft as clay when his beloved wife fell into his arms. Thus that night you softened him up but good with all the great food and affection you could muster, so much that you had him remarking what a wonderful home he'd been blessed with. "And would you be willing to share it?" At that, your husband rose from his chair, hands tensing at his sides. "You don't mean-" "I do," you nodded. Without warning, you were swept up into Dwalin's arms, hoisted gently into the air with a giggle. "Just when I thought Mahal couldn't bless me any more! My beautiful wife, with child."

✧ Cue the two of you bickering back and forth like, well, a married couple, about who the child is going to look like. "I'll have 'em look just like you, thanks." "I for one relish in the thought of toting around a miniature Dwalin." "Come now," your husband teases back, running a hand over his shaven, tattooed head, "If they look like you they'll have better hair!"

✧ Dwalin has tiny wooden swords and axes made in time for your little arrivals, ensuring the axes match his to a tee.

✧ He sleeps flush against you now, head leaned against your growing belly and one hand firmly atop it like a lovely little line of defense.

✧ You have him absolutely wrapped around your finger, even more so now. Bat your eyelashes at him and make any request and he melts like butter. You’ll never want long for anything you crave!

✧ Admittedly he knows very little of a woman’s workings, but the moment he hears all your explanations he dubs you as great a warrior as he! “Beautiful as the stars and strong as the mountains to boot! That’s my girl.”

Thorin

✧ He has waited so long for this. So many years of this hanging pressure and yet when he has you by his side, all the feeling of necessity behind trying fades away. You two can simply enjoy life. So when you return to Thorin's side one day, eyes brimming with tears, all you say to him is "It's happened". And with that you see your king, your husband, collapse as if his whole body is sighing, pulling you into him like he needs you to breathe. One hand reaches up to hold the back of your head, gently caressing your hair.

✧ Vows every day that he will protect you both, be the father and husband you deserve, taking your hands in his and then leaning down to address both his queen and your child.

✧ Thorin also assures you that despite what any members of the court say, your new addition will be equally loved and equally worthy of the throne whether you welcome a son or a daughter. "All I wish is a healthy child with their mother's heart." "And their father's good looks," you tease in response, pulling your husband in for a kiss.

✧ You begin stealing his clothes, stating that his tunics are so much more comfortable than your dresses with an innocent bat of your eyelashes that has Thorin relenting every single time, heart rent at the way they begin fitting you tighter.

✧ You see a different side of Thorin in this stage of your marriage, one you’ll never complain about, not when he softens so, gazes down upon you with such love as he hovers over you, kissing your lips, your neck, your belly.

✧ There is no denying that you both glow during this time, pride and joy illuminating Thorin’s features right alongside the radiance of your childbearing state. Everyone stops you to say what a beautiful couple you are and you cannot help the flush of heat that rises to your face as Thorin thanks them and guides you away from the crowd, a protective hand on the small of your back

Oin

✧ Predicts it before you even realize because you’re exhibiting all the telltale symptoms; annoyed as you may be by his insistence that you are with child, what do you know? Oin is right. Oin is, unfortunately, also quite smug about this. Once the initial triumph wears off, though, he’s shouting for joy and crushing you with a hug!

✧ The absolute dream husband to have when you're with child, for he has worked taking care of countless dwarrowdams in your condition. He knows what you need. He understands. And most importantly, he does not judge.

✧ In fact, you two get a kick out of poking fun at the other husbands who roll their eyes at their wives' demands or take shots at their cravings because, frankly, that could never be you. "He doesn't know her body needs more iron!" "I bet he moans and groans about grabbing her a pillow, too."

✧ Having married such a well-known dwarrow, you’ll have all manner of strangers approaching you with congratulations that you reluctantly just accept, correctly assuming they’re patients of Oin’s that he’s proudly blabbed to.

✧ He’s always asking you to guess if you’re having a boy or a girl, insisting that “‘tis the mother’s intuition, after all.”

✧ You insist on remaining on your feet as long as possible, and your husband does not protest, knowing that exercise is good for the baby. That doesn’t mean he won’t be right behind you to catch you if you fall or check on your precious little bump, though, of course.

Gloin

✧ Not so subtle in his so-called 'baby fever', your husband has been going on and on about how his child will be his little flame, the apple of his eye, his world. You have no fear, then, sharing the news, in fact you amuse yourself by dropping your state in conversation like the plainest fact. "I'm glad you've got those new blankets, dear, what with the baby coming in winter and all," you told Gloin, taking a sip of your tea. Deafening is the only word you can use to describe the roar of celebration he gives, wonderfully bone-crushing and teeth-rattling your embrace and kiss.

✧ Tackles you to bed almost every night the first week, covering your cheeks and belly alike with kisses.

✧ Spends that very same time period sharing with absolutely any soul who even remotely listens that he’s going to be a father!

✧ Gloin is very insistent upon your care, even taking it upon himself to make your meals by hand. Which, suffice it to say, is a bit disastrous the first few times but he emerges triumphant in the end and succeeds in filling you with all the hearty things your budding dwarrowling needs!

✧ Being married to a dwarf means you have a husband who absolutely adores the extra pounds you put on and has no qualms about showing you in and out of the bedroom! Even just stopping by the market he’ll be wrapped around you.

✧ Encourages the baby every time they kick, shouting out praise of their strength while you tell him to cool it, all those kicks are going to you!

Bifur

✧ A large part of him thought that he would never be able to experience fatherhood. Not since the injury, and that had happened at such a young age. You cut right through that fear, assured Bifur that he would be an amazing father regardless of if he did some things differently. And that he would soon see, for your family would be growing early the next year.

✧ In all honesty, you feel blessed to have a husband who signs, for your baby will likely be able to communicate early! When you tell Bifur this he breaks out into tears, for what an angel you are to see the beauty in him. Every side of him. He promises to do the same.

✧ And make good on that does he! You will never want for love for even on your illest days Bifur is right by your side, his caresses gentle and speaking volumes of adoration.

✧ Absolutely adores jumping into the bath with you! His excuse being he has to help you and may as well rinse his beard off, but you can see how eager he is to run his hands over your hair and see the way your body relaxes at his cleansing touch. He wants nothing more than to feel useful, needed, and you assure him you cannot do this without him.

✧ Again and again, in fact, on the days when he stands behind you, holding up your burden and cheering you with little jokes and flirtation in Khuzdul even as you are overcome with exhaustion.

✧ Proudly tells everyone who will listen that he’s got a little warrior in there whenever the baby kicks!

Bofur

✧ You hadn’t exactly been trying. You hadn’t exactly been not trying, either. The news comes to you through a haze, muffled by the great rush of other thoughts bombarding your mind and sending your heart beating, but at their heart comes the image of Bofur holding a little one and bouncing them upon his knee and your chest flutters and soars. Your visit is completed all in smiles, and upon returning him to your husband’s questioning about the flu you’ve gone in for, you tell him it likely will not go away until the end of the year. “The end of the year? Why ever that long? I’ve never heard of a flu like that, not even-” “‘tisn’t a flu, my darling,” you smirk at him, “it’s a baby.” “A- you’re- we’re gonna have a-” Bofur is all agape, stepping closer and hovering his hands over your middle like he doesn’t want to grip you in a way that breaks you. “That all right?” You ask, half-teasing, for he has recently confided in you his envy of Bombur’s family. “All right? Song of my heart, I could kiss you!” “Well, what’s stopping you?”

✧ If you thought Bofur was affectionate before, well Mahal be with you, for you haven't seen anything yet! He falls even more in love with your body knowing it's carrying his and your child, hands nearly always holding or roaming you. When you're out and about, your husband usually has a hand at the small of your back, supporting the weight you carry as you walk and running soothingly up and down. Kisses all over your belly in private.

✧ This lends to how quick your husband is to reassure you on days you don't feel so friendly with your body, those times when you'd like nothing more than to shatter the looking-glass. "All I see," Bofur tells you one day, a hand on each of your shoulders as you peer together, "Is the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my lucky eyes upon, and she's not got an easy job. If I were her, I'd be proud of myself. Proud of making a comfortable home for our little one. And if I was her husband, why, I'd take her as she is right here and now! Right nice for me I am her husband, eh?"

✧ “Imagine havin’ a little girl.” Lying side by side, you heard Bofur’s wistful tone and felt a small smile creep onto your lips. “I’ll do her hair up in braids and tie them with ribbons. She’ll have all the pretty things she wants, because I have mine right here,” he adds, turning over to caress your belly and pull your lips into his.

✧ Marrying a toymaker comes with distinct perks: your husband crafts the most magnificent little wheeled contraptions and carven animals for your new addition! He spends hours carving and glazing them, and sometimes you catch him having fallen asleep at his workbench when you struggle to stay in dreamland, covering him up with a spare blanket.

✧ You worry because the baby doesn’t seem to move much, but Oin confirms everything seems to be going fine. “Your wee bairn just got this one’s personality, it seems!” He jokes, stabbing a mock-accusatory finger Bofur’s way.

Bombur

✧ A baker's dozen. For as long as you've known him, that's how many wee ones Bombur purported wanting. Thirteen more than most dwarves have, you always tease him, but in reality every time you see your sweet husband with children and hear him dream of a family your heart leaps. That is why the moment you take his hands and tell him it's come true is special, intimate, a quiet draw in and out of breath that has him sobbing joyously and nuzzling into your embrace with so much love your chest bursts from the flight of it.

✧ Sixth senses never seemed real to you until you became pregnant and it was like Bombur knew what you were craving and was making it before you could even say anything!

✧ Cannot keep away from you. Always wants to be kissing you and cupping your cheeks and holding your hands, just so so sweet!

✧ Bombur is so much more good-natured than you, for all the jokes about how you'll be as big as him soon have you swinging, but he just holds you back and laughs alongside them, saying he's looking forward to it with a twinkle in his eye.

✧ Literally baffled if you ever feel bad about your body; his legitimate confusion alone halfway snaps you out of the sad reverie, and all the following words about your beauty and your husband's appreciation of every inch does the rest.

✧ "You know I'll keep you safe, right? Both of you," he tells you one day, a hand resting upon your bump, "I may not be some great warrior, but Mahal help anyone who comes between us."

Dori

✧ From even before you were actually wed you knew that Dori would be an excellent father. Having taken care of his younger brothers from quite an early age, he had knowledge atop a naturally caring personality you fell for. Gentlemanly Dori waited with you, keeping chaste until after your wedding, but once it is official you know your news could come at any time and you accept that. On your one-year anniversary, in fact, your first gift to Dori is the tiniest bracelet of fine amber beads. “Does this mean…?” As soon as he sees you nod, Dori is taking you in his arms, cradling you gently as if you were made of fine porcelain and thrice as precious.

✧ Caring father-to-be. A little too caring. "If those are too heavy for you, I can carry them!" "They're just books, I'll be alright, Dori." "Oh, don't eat that, you got sick last time." "I haven't been sick in a month!" "That's a lot of steps, should I carry you?" "...Actually, sure."

✧ Always sleeps with his arm wrapped around your middle. No exceptions.

✧ Has every manner of tea and remedy you could desire on hand or otherwise purchases it. Same goes for supplies- Dori even found a ring-shaped cushion for you to lay on! He has your back for any ailment and is often there to make or apply your cure himself. After all, he wouldn't trust anyone else to do it!

✧ You love this dwarf with all your heart. He takes it upon himself to find dwarrowdams willing to let him practice changing diapers on their wee bairns and surprises you with this newfound skill when you return home one day!

✧ Dori’s love of the finer things absolutely carries over into his future fatherhood, as he has the loveliest little velvet clothes made and procures the dearest little bejeweled hairbrush. All in all, both of you amass far more than you need because any time you go out it inevitably devolves into you two clasping your joined hands between each other, gushing over all the wee things, and taking them home!

Nori

✧ He never thought he would get married at all, let alone have a family, but as time goes on the desire to continue his lineage and finally settle down takes hold. Then suddenly there he is desperately trying to seduce you into trying for a little one! It doesn't take long, not with his charm, until the day comes when you teasingly tell him that he got his way. Smirking until the realization takes hold of him, his arms are then snaking around your waist to pull you close.

✧ Always talking about how he's going to teach his little one everything he knows. When pressed about it, responds with such things as fighting and picking locks. His defense? "What if 'e gets stuck somewhere, or-"

✧ Impatient! "When am I gonna be able to feel 'em?" He asks, a hand upon your belly, which has yet to display any changes. "Not for another few months, Nori! I haven't even begun to show!"

✧ Hides things sometimes or puts them up places you can't go just so he can swoop in and help you, saving your day and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he tells you he can handle it, don't you worry your pretty little head.

✧ Nori always teases you when he pours himself a drink. "Bet you'd like some of this, huh? Not for three more months!" He chuckles. Your brows furrow. "Three months? What about when I'm feeding?" "What does tha- oh. Does that really-" "Yes, yes it does." "By the stars, I could have got my baby drunk!"

✧ Talks to the baby quite a bit, especially when he finally can feel the kicks. "Where you running off to, huh?" He chuckles, feeling the flutters against his hand pick up. "That's 'cause of me, isn't it? You hear me? That's right, it's your da. Can you believe it? Me, your da! I'll take good care of you, you hear?"

Ori

✧ "Ori, dear," you implored your husband, "Might you knit something for me?" Looking up from the scarf he'd just finished, Ori's eyes fell upon you and he gave that smile, the special one reserved just for you. "Of course. What would you like?" "A wee pair of booties," you replied, hands clasped and expression dreamy. "Who needs booties?" He asked, head cocked. "We will in the fall," you answered, stepping closer and resting a hand upon his. Ori's jaw dropped. "You... I... We-" Smile widening, you nodded. "I. You. We," you agreed.

✧ Nearly from the first day you know you are with child, Ori is rattling off names. After tossing out a great deal, he finally pauses and gives a sheepish apology. "I'm sorry, I suppose I've thought about this a lot," he confesses with a grin, "I just can't believe it's happening." Your hand joins with his, resting over your little bump. "Neither can I. It's like a dream."

✧ "So," you ask Ori one day, leaning your chin upon the couch where you'd lain, "What should our plan be for when my water breaks?" Your husband's brows furrow. "When your what?" "Oh, no," you mutter. Cue Ori spending his afternoon receiving a great multitude of lessons. What he got for being raised by other dwarf men, you suppose. "That really all happens to you?" He asks, gaping at you as though you came of the Valar themselves. "Yes, it does. Birth is a great deal of work. They don't just run on out, you know!" "Yes, I know. Of course I know." Ori's voice is faint; he excuses himself and you assume it's to faint or be sick, but about an hour later he returns bearing gifts. "I'm sorry I'm putting you through all that." "Sweetheart," you chuckle, cupping his cheek, "You know it takes two, right?" Your sweet husband reddened, but he nodded.

✧ Ori takes on almost all the cleaning himself- you haven't even asked! Finally curiosity gets the better of you and you inquire as to why he's gotten so into housekeeping. "Well, aren't you tired?" He asks simply, innocently, and you wonder how you got so lucky.

✧ He also knits far more than that pair of booties you requested- all three of you will have matching sweaters before your little one has arrived!

✧ Ori's favorite thing in the world is sitting with you in his lap, one hand cradling your growing bump and the other holding a book as you two take turns reading aloud, filling your cozy hollow with the sounds of voices your little one will come to love. The books are hand-drawn, written, and bound by him, of course!

Fili

✧ You two speak of little ones so much it borderline infuriates the others, Kili himself even bursting out in frustration one day at yet another interruption about tiny clothes, "Just get her pregnant already!" "Good idea. See you later," Fili replies, scooping you up and carrying you off bridal-style. "Wait, I- Damn, brother..." In reality, Fili just carried you around the corner and set you down while you two burst out laughing, but about a month later your tries were in fact successful!

✧ Honeyed words were no trouble for your husband before, but now? Praise falls endlessly from his lips. "Never did I think you could get more beautiful, and yet each day you succeed beyond my wildest dreams."

✧ Fili has a near-magical sense for your new struggles of coordination, all but flying to your side to catch your hand or waist whenever you trip or even whenever you must rise up again from your seat!

✧ He loves to tease you, asking what disgusting thing you'll think of him to fix next or joke that he can finally beat you in a fight in this state, but every joke is punctuated by the most loving eyes and gestures that they cannot do a thing but warm your heart and make you chuckle.

✧ Your baby is very active, kicking all the time! "We've definitely got a little Fili in here!" Your husband exclaims with a grin, hand resting atop your belly to feel your little one's exuberant motions. "A strong babe for sure," you sigh, "Much to the pity of my ribs!" "Too bad we aren't having a Kili. Nice and lazy for you." "Hey, I heard that!"

✧ He turns his head, peering over his shoulder at you as you waddle after him, golden hair cascading down. "Care for me to slow down a little?" "I care for you to shut up," you shoot back, crossing your arms and fighting your smile.

Kili

✧ The thought crossed your mind far before it did your husband's. Not that Kili had no desire for children, it was simply that the possibility was all the more yours to consider. It took a visit from your young cousin, who had Kili wrapped around your finger, for the fire to light in your husband's head as well, a smile lighting up his face. "We- we could..." "I know, Kili." You could and you certainly did but a few months later.

✧ "I hope they look just like you." "Me too." Kili pulls his head out of the crook of your neck. "Hey, that is the part where you say 'no, I hope they look like you'!" "I'm doing the work of carrying for how long again? Nine, ten months? Least they can do is resemble me a little," you shoot back with a smirk.

✧ It was Oin who brought the news: "Both babies seem healthy as far as I can tell!" "Both?" You gape. "Both babies?" "'s right," Oin replies, "I know I can't always hear the best, but I haven't been wrong on a heartbeat yet. You can feel 'em." "Guess we did pretty good, eh love?" Kili teases, earning him an elbow to the ribs, but he just shakes his head and tugs you closer against his chest. "Should we make their names confusing as well?" "Don't you think it might get old for them?" "Fili and I switched names plenty of times and we aren't even identical!" You should have known.

✧ Kili takes to sleeping facing you, close enough that sometimes your cheeks brush. Others he slips down lower and you awake with your husband cuddled up to the bump of your belly.

✧ Will come running from any room, anywhere, to feel the babies kick, and also loves tugging along any of his family he can take, too. Childlike wonder fills your husband's eyes every time and pride glistens in his dark eyes when he's brought along his mother, his brother, even his uncle the king!

✧ Never once do you doubt yourself or have one moment of room for insecurity, for Kili still flirts with you as if you were tweens and sneaks all sorts of touches, pecks, and affectionate hands in your hair wherever he can find it! The notion of a baby destroying the romance of your relationship is laughable to you, who married a dwarf that has no shame telling you you're the most gorgeous creature to walk the earth and warm his-and the baby's in a different way-body.

Bilbo

✧ Bilbo's a perceptive hobbit. He knows something's off with you. You don't usually scurry around the way you are like everything has to be perfect. That's his job. "Something the matter? Are you... expecting someone?" Your husband follows you down Bag End's hall as he gives his inquiry, eyebrows shooting up at the look on your face when you turn around. Consternation, resignation, finally a smile. "I was going to tell you after dinner," you answered, "But since you asked it like that, yes I am expecting someone. Our child this spring." At that, it was Bilbo's turn to shift through expressions. Shock, realization, finally a smile.

✧ Nursery shopping has become Bilbo's favorite pastime. Baby Baggins isn't arriving for months and yet your husband is returning from market with all manner of trinkets for the shelves and paper for the walls. You cannot help giggling at his armfuls of supplies and kissing his cheek as you relieve as much of his burden as he allows you to.

✧ So sweet, always helping you dress, pulling on every garment with the utmost of care and even avoiding your reflection on days you feel bad. Quickly kissing each part of your body before he covers it with something he knows will be comfortable.

✧ You'll be eating well whether you like it or not! Bilbo will make you anything under the sun if it means you and Baby Baggins are getting nourishment and he certainly will not have you skimping! Anything that makes you sick simply is not allowed in Bag End at all, end of discussion.

✧ One night, you awake to soft whispers and your heart melts at the sight of Bilbo resting his chin on your growing bump talking to the baby. Not uttering a word, you simply watch, taking in the moment beneath the sheen of tears in your eyes.

✧ "Careful, careful," Bilbo is always telling you, holding your hand and guiding you over the smallest of obstacles, even little puddles and rocks.

Thranduil

✧ He has talked about getting you pregnant before, but speaking of it and doing it are two entirely different things, especially with...well, words of such nature. Thus, you find yourself nervously wringing your hands before your husband as he strokes your face, asking whatever is the matter. At Thranduil's touch, his intense gaze, you fin yourself melting and admitting all, confessing that you are expecting his child. You are certainly not expecting the way his confident smile utterly falters, dissipating in favor of the look of a man near tears. "Truly? A little one of our own?" "Yes," you whisper, finally able to smile as the tension melts from your body, which is soon pulled against the Woodland King's. "Long have I dreamed of this day, my love."

✧ One of his favorite new activities is commissioning you new maternity dresses; you will certainly have plenty to wear if Thranduil has any say about it! In addition, when the time comes of course he requests that you model them for him.

✧ Thranduil loves to sneak up behind you, lightly wrapping his hands about your waist and laying them atop yours, his head resting in the crook of your neck and breathy, pleased laughter warming the skin there.

✧ When you start showing, oh, he loves it. One more sign that you are his, utterly and truly his queen, his beloved, claimed by Thranduil in every sense. He follows your lead, a hand around your waist, letting you shine like the gem he knows you to be. Rarely will you two be seen apart, not when the king can bask in your glow, relish the eyes upon your beautiful form, heavy with his child.

✧ There is one day he catches you in tears and heart tearing he steps to scoop you up against him, cheeks held gently in his elegant hands, which begin to glitter with your tears. "My rings no longer fit," you sob, head falling to his chest. Thranduil holds you close, grip loose as though you might break. "That is not your fault, meleth nîn." "I feel so... so massive." "Who wishes a small dwelling, hm? Piteous thing not to have any comforts. Your body is a host of life, the vessel of a bloodline. Beautiful in all its forms. Never forget that, oh dearest one."

✧ Thranduil is experienced; he knows many little tricks to help you feel better, be they massages or ways to bear your weight. He impresses you with the knowledge he has of the ways of women, understanding your water breaking, dilation, and every complication the healers warn you about and telling you before they even do!

Feren

✧ First to know was neither you nor your husband, but rather your cat, for she had suddenly become your little shadow, following you about your home and taking rest upon your lap as often as she could. "I wonder what it is that got into her," you commented one afternoon, smiling and stroking her back. "Growing up, ours got like this when my mother was carrying my younger sisters. Both times. It was like he could sense it," Feren replied. You both sat in smiling silence for a moment longer before simultaneously straightening, looking each other right in the widening eyes.

✧ Gets a little flustered, frankly. Not so much at your news itself, simply the realization sinking in that he is to be a father. He, Feren, will have a child. He says this out loud several times before suddenly breaking out into a smile. You tease him for going through half his emotions at once, but now the wave of joy has swept him up!

✧ Playfully rolls his eyes and mock-complains every time you remind him that he has to clean up after the cat now! Subsequently adds that he would fetch you the moon if you asked it.

✧ Loves helping you bathe the more difficult your condition makes it, scrubbing your hair with such care and gently massaging your sore feet and ankles as you wash up. Despite your husband's skill in battle, Feren's hands are the most loving and delicate you could ask for.

✧ Your husband has a natural tendency to rise early, so now that your sleep has become more fitful you do find that you have more time to spend together. Your head falling to his shoulder as you whisper to each other, seated as you are upon your bed with blankets draped over your shoulders.

✧ Feren wins your heart time and time again, like the day he lowered you down gently onto the grass of a sunny meadow, basking with you and weaving flowers. He made you a ring, crowned you with a wreath of flowers atop your head, and made another little one to place gently on the curve of your belly, bringing your heart to soar.

Bard

✧ Uncertainty wracks your heart and wrings your hands at the would-be-cheerful news. In fact, you yourself do feel joy, have since your suspicions were confirmed, but would Bard see it the same way? He already has three mouths to feed, three children all old enough to take care of themselves. Will he wish to start it all over so? "What's wrong, love? Your lip is bleeding." So it is. You've practically gnawed the poor thing off in all your stewing. A sigh escapes you. Bard is your husband. No sense in delaying a very necessary conversation. "I know we should have spoken more about it..." You begin, trailing off. At once, Bard senses your reservation and rises to your side, taking hold of your arms; the love in his dark eyes brings a small smile to your lips and relaxes you slightly. "I'm with child, Bard." Almost childlike is the wonder and joy spreading across your face, and before you can say another word you are being pulled into Bard's chest, face snuggling into the fur of his coat.

✧ He knows what to expect, naturally, so Bard is definitely not the type of husband to gripe about your requests, though he does smirk and poke fun if you’re especially outrageous with it or have a funny enough delivery. Then kisses you if you pout about it before fetching what you seek.

✧ Caution overtakes you and your husband as you make to tell his older children the news, particularly you, but your wringing hands relax when you can see the joy in their eyes, particularly the girls! They hope the baby is another girl, hugging you so tight you almost cannot breathe, but you complain not.

✧ Happy is Bard to take on assistance cooking; he knows it can make you sick sometimes and besides, it's a nice excuse to make sure you get all the nutrients you need! You are certainly very lucky in the skill and domesticity of your spouse.

✧ Stands behind you and reaches his arms around you, lifting up the weight you carry and smiling, kissing your neck and cheeks as you relax from your burden.

✧ He also has no qualms about making you rest, down even to physically lifting you up and carrying you to bed if he must!

Beorn

✧ Hesitant as he always would have claimed to be about bringing more Skin-Changers into a world so cruel to them, Beorn feels his nesting instincts kick in very quickly after you become his wife. You see it in the things he gathers, the way your husband moves things such as your blades to higher, safer locations. He is anticipating something. Something you cannot help pulling him aside and asking about, and when your feelings on the subject are made known, well, it is entirely possible you conceived that very night.

✧ Beorn has an almost eerie sense for all the changes taking place in your body. You feel a sharp pain in your back, and without a word your husband is behind you, ushering you down for a massage with some of the oils he's pressed.

✧ The aforementioned nesting instincts manifest early on, your husband carefully blunting corners and tucking away the best blankets so the little one-or ones!- will be nothing but safe and comfortable.

✧ Withdrawn as he could be, Beorn's affection is drawn out by your condition, his big brown eyes soft upon you as he pulls you into his lap, large hands secure about your waist and sliding gently up and down your growing belly.

✧ And grow it does! It seems to get heavier by the day, but that is explained thanks to your husband's exceptional hearing. "Four heartbeats. One is yours. A litter- three are coming!" Spots dance in your vision at that news, but Beorn's smile as he grips your hand brings you back to the light. You could do it with him by your side. "Our little litter."

✧ He attempts to reassure you anytime your anxiety grows. "My dearest flower, I have delivered hundreds of calves and piglets in my day! You will see this through." Reassuring? Perhaps not so much. But in your heightened emotion, that does break you into a wild laughter that does indeed relax you nonetheless.

Want to meet the little ones? Perhaps there will be a Part 2 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @fuckyoumakeart @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

[gaybae1021]

Well since my bachelorette designs were received so well, I decided to complete the marriage set! Here’s my bachelors!

Individual pics and thought processes under the cut:

I’m drawing these from the perspective of how they’d look on day 1, but I’d definitely like to do a post-Joja higher heart design for Shane at some point. Overall for this one I just tried to make him look unkempt and dull, I desaturated his skin tone to make him look sickly and he’s the only one without eye shines, signifying how he’s lost the spark for life.

Also sorry about the socks and Birkenstocks.

Decided to make Alex mixed, since there’s absolutely no diversity in the bachelors. Had a lot of fun translating his canon hairstyle into those short locs. Other than that the biggest change was turning his jacket into a proper varsity jacket. Short Alex gang unite!

Okay sorry Haley, Elliot takes the win for the most changed design. Like it’s so obvious he’s meant to have a Victorian jacket and fancy trousers and all that, but after I drew him all tall and slender and I gave him little braids and beach waves he just started taking on a Boho vibe? When I drew the jacket it just looked tight and restrictive. So I decided to let the beach influence carry and we ended up with this fancy yet comfy loungewear with sandals. And I love him?

Also this was heavily inspired by ginjaninjaowo’s male espeon design

Sebastian was honestly a pain, like I know his design plays off the emo teen archetype, but compared to the others npcs he’s actually got a lot of variety. Like he’s obviously got some emo influence, but there’s also some nerd thanks to his interest in coding and ttrpgs, and he’s also a bit of a tough guy with the bike and the smoking. So there were a lot of directions to lean. Still, his sprite is clearly going for a dark hoodie and dark jeans, so I didn’t think I could change it up without making it not feel like Sebby. Does he have a muscle tee underneath for working on the bike? I’ll never say.

Biggest change is probably the hair, just wanted something less stereotypical, and have some variety in bachelor hair length. Definitely leans into the biker side a bit lol. Otherwise I just tried add detail to his dark outfit and adorn it with his interests. So frog embroidery on his shoes, a patch on his jacket and some motor oil stains on his hoodie. Also as promised he and Maru have matching dimples.

Also happy pride month, enjoy trans Sebastian and also the head canon that he and Sam start dating provided the farmer doesn’t get there first lol.

And with Sam the ASS trio is complete! Now with matching chokers because I said so.

Just like with Sebby I wasn’t sure which direction to go for Sam, whether to lean more into skater boy or rockstar. Ultimately he ended up more rockstar, though he’s still always roughed up from skating (probably because he refuses to take off the platform boots). He thinks the torn clothes make him look more legit though.

I had fun making his shape language compliment Sebby; he’s very top heavy from the giant hoodie so I made Sam bottom heavy with the baggy jeans and jacket. Also I had so many thoughts about him and Kent, given that Sam and Sebby are a thing and Sam isnt exactly gender conforming.

And last but not least, Harvey. He’s sweet, he’s simple, all his heart events are charming. And yet he is always the last one I reach max hearts with because I can’t be bothered to go to the doctors office. Sorry bby, I hope I can make it up to you by designing you as an adorable cherub of a man.

I know I’m being super controversial, giving him a pushbroom mustache when the sprite is obviously a handlebar /s. But like, he’s such a square; it fits him so well. My little lawful good guy.

Ya know, I think I gave him a sweater so Elliot’s jacket would stand out, then proceeded to not give Elliot his jacket. Huh.

Anyway bonus of the boyfriends together to close us out, thanks for reading!

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Roommate AU, Jealous!Miguel, male masturbation. MINORS DNI 🔞🔞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel has mixed feelings towards your new boyfriend. That was until you came back with very exciting devastating news

It has been a few months since Miguel had been introduced to your new boyfriend. He remembered the day painfully well. You invited your new flame over to watch a movie with him in your room, an adoring look was radiant on your face when you opened the door and greeted him with a kiss on his cheek.

Miguel was in the living room that day, tinkering with some of his work from his lab until was interrupted with your sweetened voice when you showed the lucky guy who managed to claim you. All those days leading upto that moment, he was subjected to you gushing about him and was forced to listen to your rants and endless infatuation until he finally got to see him in person.

The image of you clinging onto his arm and pressing it against your chest with your head resting on his shoulder was burnt into his psyche. You wore one of your special dresses and even touched up on your makeup to enhance your appearance. For a fleeting moment, Miguel imagined what it would be like having you dress up for him like that, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

Miguel had only managed to give a subtle nod in acknowledgement before he quickly averted away, immersing himself in his work. The solitude followed with you leading him back to your bedroom and closing the door, leaving Miguel abandoned in the living room alone with his withering pride.

Weeks go by and Miguel could only watch as your relationship flourished. He couldn’t do anything but support you for the sake of being a good roommate and friend. You’d come home with gifts he had giving you or even bite marks around your neck in the morning after staying over the night at his house. The sight of you being marked by another man, a man that was the embodiment of everything he didn’t have the courage to be, left a bitter pang in Miguel’s gut.

Now he found himself in the familiar confinement of his own room, perched on his bed with the holographic tablet in his hand. The grip on the device was firmer than it should be, and his focus was wavering. He listened to the faint sound that was emanating from your room. He attempted to keep himself distracted with his work on the glowing screen, but his mind was stubbornly fixed on you.

You’ve invited your boyfriend over for the night again and, unfortunately with how thin the walls were, Miguel could hear everything.

It started off with your laughter echoing in the room and now replaced with more lascivious noises. He didn’t have to be in the same room to know what was going on, your begging and moans gave it away as well as the bed repeatedly knocking on the wall.

Every moan he heard from you, that was driven by your boyfriend’s touch, felt like pricking needles, relentlessly deflating his already bruised ego. He cursed himself for even agreeing to be in the apartment while you and your boyfriend were there. A bystander to the unbearable scene.

He knew something like this would happen eventually but he didn’t anticipate it would happen so soon. Too soon to him, anyways. But something inside him was keeping him rooted on the bed, unable to get himself to move. As if hearing your moans from another man wasn’t tormenting enough.

He craned his head to face the side of the room where the sound was coming from, the side where your room bore directly opposite the wall. He shuffled uncomfortably under the covers, fingers digging into his tablet as his frustration grew. He wasn’t mad at you, he could never be. His frustration stemmed from his own pride, preventing him from confessing which now lead him to a compromising position.

His thoughts drifted back to the times you had spent together as friends and roommates. Only you managed to find that hairline fracture of vulnerability beneath his stoic demeanour. All those moments seemed pale in comparison to the intimacy he now overheard.

You were always so sweet to him, always willing to assist him whenever you could. You even made him empanadas on his birthday and cooked for him on several occasions.

He knew that sharing a domestic life with you would be a breeze. After everything you have done for him, he should be happy for you and respect your privacy. It was the bare minimum he should give as a friend, especially after everything you’ve done for him.

But he couldn’t help the antipathy feeling that everything you did was just out of the kindness of your heart and being a good roommate — it was painfully clear that there was nothing more to it. He was always there but never truly there in your heart. He wondered if there was a special space for him in your life, or if he would forever remain on the sidelines, an observer of your life and, now, your newfound intimacy.

As he reminisced on his relationship with you, he couldn’t stop himself from recollecting those small moments when you unknowingly exuded a certain charm that got his blood rushing and his cock throbbing unintentionally. Small innuendos that you were oblivious to but he couldn’t stop his mind from racing with thoughts when he observed you.

He recalled that one moment last summer when you were having an ice popsicle that melted down your hand. He watched as you quickly lapped up the sweetened juice from your fingers, your tongue gracefully moving along them, before popping the popsicle back in your mouth, savouring the flavour of the cold treat. It didn’t help that the sun was casting an irresistible golden glow on your skin too.

Another moment that etched his mind was when he came home to see you settled on the couch while leaning on the arm rest. His line of sight dropped to your breasts and how they were pressed together with your arm wrapped around yourself. He had to tear himself away from there before you would notice him gawking.

But even after he left the room, his mind couldn’t break away from the image of his cock sliding and fitting between your breasts, squeazing it as he fucked them, while watching the pre-cum leak down your chest.

Being so lost in his thoughts, Miguel hadn’t realised the heat that was reaching down his crotch until he felt a familiar tightness under his sweatpants. He removed the blanket that covered him to reveal his erection, prominent and visible, under the fabric.

“Mierda,” he groaned. Shame quickly washed over him. Placing the tablet down on the bedside table, he sat up from his bed and ran his hand over his unruly hair.

He let himself get carried away with his imagination that only dug him further in his grave. He really should’ve just left the whole apartment to you so he could have avoided this predicament.

But the frustration and shame he was feeling was quickly replaced with desperation and need for relief. Reluctantly, he reached over the hem of his sweatpants and pulled them down, along with his boxers, to free his aching cock. He hissed, feeling the room's atmosphere settle on his crotch, after being trapped under his clothes like a bondage.

His heart was pulsating hard in his chest as he reached for his length, gripping it firmly. There were several reasons why he really shouldn’t be doing this, why this was a bad idea, but he brought himself too deep into this rabbit hole of his desires that he couldn’t think of one.

He started off with a steady pace, running his hand over it repeatedly up to the top and back down to the base. He could feel his fangs emerge from his canines, something that only happened with high levels of rage or intense pleasure.

“Ay coño-” He moaned lowly before biting down on his lower lip, stifling himself from being too loud. If he could hear everything from your room, there was no doubt you could hear him as well.

He doesn’t usually do this to himself regularly, but after living with you and watching the way you acted towards him and how you carried yourself, he was spellbound.

He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. His mind recalling that one steamy memory of you applying the coconut-scented sunscreen over your exposed skin. Your hands gliding sensually over your exposed collarbone, shoulders and down your thighs and over every curve of your body that Miguel longed to explore with his own hands.

He was fully aware that he was never going to experience that now — the most physical touch he received from you were your hugs that you would give from time to time.

He imagined what it would feel like, kissing your exposed skin as he slowly slipped off each barrier of clothes. He wondered how sensitive you were — Would you squirm under him if he were to touch your delicate areas? Will you moan out his name or tug on his hair when he eats you out?

Speaking of which, your moans from the next room continued on and were now adding an erotic backdrop to his forbidden fantasies, making the scenes that were reeling in his mind more vivid.

He didn’t even want to imagine what your boyfriend was doing to your body right now to get you to moan like that. It would only deflate the bliss he was feeling, and his cock, if he dwelled on that thought too much.

He kept his focus on those specific memories of you driving him insane while continually trying to reach his peak.

He knew your tight cunt would squeeze him better than his hand but it’ll have to do now. He imagined you sweating and panting while under him. You weren’t always good with eye contact so he’d probably have to hold your chin to get you to look at him while thrusting into you.

He would watch your brows crease and your mouth part with every breathy moan as your poor cunt would take in the sheer size of him. Shock, you’d look so adorable being helpless and a mess from him. He’d want to see you shiver under his touch.

He increased his pace, feeling his climax crawling up to him painstakingly slow. Would you arch your back or dig your nail further into his back while taking in his cum? The mere image was enough to tip him over the edge, an overwhelming orgasm that caused his legs to shake.

His cum shot up before running down his knuckles. It continued to spill over his lower abdomen and boxers. He allowed himself to get lost in the heated sensation as he rode out his high.

By the time his senses settled in, he knew he had to dismiss all those thoughts he had of you from his head. The evidence of his recent activities still spilled down his lower abdomen and the back of his hand.

With a defeated sigh, he quickly cleaned himself up and settled back into bed, attempting to drown out the background noise that was still going on the rest of the night.

{{Part 2}}

[silent-sanctum]

hiii mijin! hope you are doing well 💕 can i req a beach day with jotaro and the crusaders, y/n getting hit on, joot getting jealous, pol and kak clowning him, those shoujo anime cliche we all know and love 😂 thanks !

Hello anon! Your beach day request has been heard! Initially, I had this planned to only be at most 600+ words, but then I went ahead and found the plot to be... a lot more 😬 Also this takes place in an au where everyone survives post-DIO's World. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! ♡

Volleyball - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2.2k

It’s been 3 months since DIO’s defeat and no one else deserves a break more than the Crusaders.

Everyone had time to recover from their injuries and although some had worse wounds than others, they still managed to make it out of the otherwise deadly voyage alive.

It was Joseph’s idea for the team to meet-up once more in a popular beach near New York-to hang out as friends for once rather than just allies or colleagues. He promised that any expenses in relation to this one-time hangout would be covered using the “good old Joestar funds” as the old man put it.

And since the new school year wouldn’t start until a month after, and that being around familiar faces was a nice experience, Jotaro wasn’t opposed into joining, more so after knowing you were going too.

Speaking off, a part of him held onto this ounce of pride when you and Jotaro decided to be something more than being “just close friends” and who would’ve guessed that this decision would be made in the middle of a mission to save his mother.

Now, not only is Holly alive and well but he also gained a new lover for her to dote on and gush with.

And whether it was conscious or not, you both stuck around for each other, often finding ways to meet one way or another. It felt nice to have you here with him no matter the place.

So having to hop on board a plane yet again and fly off to the States for a day or two wouldn’t be too excruciating when he knew you’d be there to make the sudden meeting a bit more tolerable.

Day after arrival, here he was- sitting underneath a beach umbrella in his dark shorts, drinking juice while watching his grandfather and Polnareff compete at a game of volleyball. You were there beside him in the shade, dressed in a loose blouse and shorts, applying sun screen as you attempted to convince him to play a game with the crew.

I’d rather be at home. Despite your many tries, Jotaro stayed stubborn and said he’d be fine watching you play with the guys. You didn’t push the offer again and after a sip of your citrus drink and a quick peck on his cheek, off you went to lead a waiting Kakyoin to the playing field.

And for the next few hours, it mostly stayed like this- Jotaro and Avdol resting underneath the shade, him watching the volleyball match with his Walkman in hand listening to music, the Egyptian reading a worn-out book that’s most probably from his archives, and the rest of the group out in the sun playing their 3rd round.

Throughout his time there, Jotaro kept his eye on the game and on you specifically, mirroring your excited smile and laughter with his more subtle lip curl and huffs. In an addition to having himself be yours, the relationship helped him negate all the passing girls who took interest in him and tried to approach him.

Not that he had a hard time ignoring them to begin with it.

What Jotaro hadn’t considered was the onlooking men taking interest of you, and the thought struck him square in head when as a volleyball match ended, one of the nearby boys- an American with a blonde mop of hair and tan skin- walked over to you all smiling and shit.

Normally, you conversing with someone with the opposing sex wouldn’t bother him this much, but the second he watched the guy offering you an ice cream cone bought from the nearby vendor, he could hear himself scoff and scowl. “Why’d you accept that?” He muttered, continuing to glare at the man consistently keeping up a lively conversation with you. “What are they even talking about this long?”

“Such an irritating sight that is, right?” Jotaro glanced at Polnareff coming over to be annoying and take part in this dilemma. Behind him, Kakyoin followed. Both of them crouched by the delinquent and joined him in watching you talk with a stranger. “Can’t be helped when she’s just as attractive as you are.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when boys from our school approached her though,” Kakyoin said.

“It’s because I know they won’t risk meeting me when they think of trying,” Jotaro replied. “But I got a feeling that guys from here are more gutsy than in Japan.”

To hammer down on that point, the blond began to point to his biceps and not-so-subtly flexed them for you to see, and you responded with a calm, wide-eyed “woah”. Jotaro rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his thick bicep once. “Why not head over there then? If you’re this jealous?” Polnareff said.

“I’m not jealous.” Both the cherry-haired and Frenchman stayed silent, giving him a mere deadpan. “… Fine. Just a bit.”

“So go there and introduce yourself as her boyfriend in your-” Kakyoin gestured over Jotaro’s frame. “-punk delinquent-esque ways.”

“And you can’t judge us for poor advice anymore when Nori here upgraded from telling you how to do things to instead doing things your way!” Kakyoin nodded, bumping fists with Polnareff.

Jotaro judged them regardless with one vertical look-over at the both of them. “I still don’t trust any of your advises. Besides,” he sighed. “After knowing her more, I don’t think she’d like me suddenly walking there and getting possessive.”

“But it’s not being possessive when you’re establishing boundaries monsieur Kujo,” Pol said.

“Don’t call me that,” Jotaro scowled. “Also I don’t get why you two are always in my business. It’s annoying. Leave me alone.”

Not that his “threats” were effective against this duo, who simply shared a look with each other before replying. “What are you talking about? We’re buddies!” Polnareff chuckled, wrapping an arm around the raven-haired teenager. “Who am I to leave a pal behind to wallow in their own self-pity?”

“Also to be honest, it’s entertaining to see you struggle over stuff like this,” Kakyoin said with a smirk. That and paired with those shades he bought from Egypt just made him all the more smug. “Gets all the ladies but can’t handle one-”

“You shut-”

“Hey!” All three paused to look at you waving from a distance with that damn American and his friends still standing near you. “These guys want to play a round but Grandpa Joseph’s tapping out for the day. I’m afraid his bones have become too brittle-”

“No it’s not!” Said the groaning old man plopping down on the sand the moment he reached his and Avdol’s shared blanket. “I didn’t want to overpower those kids that’s all!”

“L-”

“We’re tougher than we look gramps!” The blond called out in return just as Jotaro was about to say something to you. And that didn’t help alleviate any increasing irritation boiling in him. “How about you guys?”

“Us?” Pol asked.

“Yeah! A friendly competition between us youngsters sound good?” He said, ball already in hand. “Just one set of 2v2!”

“I’m down-”

Whatever Kakyoin had to say about accepting the invite got cut off as Jotaro stood from his spot and walked over to your side with his hands in his short pockets. By the time you were beside him, the blond and his posse faltered for a second when they saw how much taller, built, and intimidating this supposed teenager from Japan was compared to them.

“I’m joining.”

You gazed up at him with widened eyes and a dash of pink to your cheeks. “Jotaro-ssi…”

“O-Oh for sure man,” the American cleared his throat, nervous as he looked over his shoulder to his friends. “How about you guys-”

“You chickening out?” Jotaro said in his characteristic blunt mannerisms. “You wanted to play volleyball, looked for a player, and now that he’s here, you’re passing the torch to your buddies?” From the corner of his vision, you crossed your arms facing them, more amused than pissed at his intervention.

He could spot the single bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to play off his cold feet with false bravado. “Nothing wrong than wanting to let my pals have a shot at a game, but since you’re asking for it,” he made show as he tossed and caught the ball. “It’s game on. Though I got to warn you, I have a nasty spike.”

“It’s true!” Polnareff yelled out from the sidelines. “I saw how he moves on the other net.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and walked off to your side of the field. “Hey, do you even know how to play volleyball?” You said with a whisper. “You haven’t played once during our time here.”

“I’ve watched you and the others play this entire afternoon enough times for me to figure out how to do it,” he said with casual ease, glancing down at you with a shrug. “If a novice can beat an expert Darby at his favorite baseball game, then this will be nothing.”

“Well yeah but you know playing a video game is drastically different than playing an actual game, right?”

He huffed, unbothered. “Makes this better for me.”

With everyone in their respective spots, one of the blond’s friends served as the referee and starting from the other guy’s side, the whistle blew and the ball flew.

True to his word and his ability to study and adapt on the spot, Jotaro managed to keep up with you and his opponents on the playing field, exchanging the ball countless times without break. All the while, the Crusaders watched this one game like die-hard fans at the Superbowl.

It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker when he knew that both of you had physical advantages: Your lithe self allowing you to be more agile and nimble to traverse the court and catch the ball before it fell, while he had the strength and height to send the ball back to the other side, often times targeted to the edges.

And just as the timer was about to hit the 29 minute mark, Jotaro noticed the American get into a stance with a smirk plastered over his tan face. He cocked his head and rose a brow. The nasty spike I assume.

You sent the ball flying to their side and just as he predicted, the blond took over center field and leapt, arm reared and hand poised to deliver his so-called “nasty spike”.

His palm got into contact with the ball’s surface and with a clear smack, the ball was sent flying over to your side. But as he was about to receive, a glint of rose gold zipped past his vision and next thing he knew, the ball was up in the air as if it was caught mid flight to the ground.

One second glimpse at your knowing look, Jotaro didn’t hesitate to follow your footsteps. He leapt off the sand and rose his hand. In that split second, Star Platinum’s purple gloved hand enveloped his and upon contact with its surface, the ball practically launched itself at the American at a raging speed akin to an incoming missile.

The sand erupted in a loud boom, causing a shallow crater with plumes of sand flying off in many directions as the ball hit the ground. It rolled off the now-incapacitated blond stranger’s body.

His friends couldn’t even move nor make the effort to blow the whistle from the shock of it all.

Jotaro tongued the inside of his cheek, casually pocketing his hands back in his shorts as he glared at the American. “Nasty spike ,” he scoffed. “What a joke.”

You whistled, impressed as you looked down the crater. “You did a number on him.”

He reached over to grab your wrist. “Let’s get out of here.” With a gentle tug, you complied to his wish and followed him out the sandy court. He didn’t even bother meeting up with the Crusaders, who were equally stunned at what had happened.

“You’re not at all questioning why I’m not at all offended at you knocking the man out?”

“I’m questioning why you decided to cheat and use Sanctuary midway.”

“The game was ending in a minute anyways,” you said. “And I wanted to finish it off with a bang.”

“By letting me launch a ball at his face?” You smiled and nodded. “And you’re okay with that?”

“He’s a weirdo,” you grimaced. “His fetishes were showing when he said something about how exotic and pretty I was, and it pissed me off.”

Hearing that made Jotaro want to turn around to the guy for one more solid punch to the face. “But I saw you talking to him for that long.”

“Made you jealous, didn’t it?” You said, smug. “I lowkey wanted to bait you into playing a game with me by riling you up a bit, and for you to finish off that creep with what he deserved.”

“I wasn’t-” He bit his tongue, not finishing his train of thought. “I was a bit jealous and I’m glad I got to wreck that shit-eating face of his in the process, but can you not make me feel like this on purpose? It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Duly noted and I’m sorry,” you said, eyes cast downward as you bowed your head a bit in sincere apology. “I’ll just tell you outright who and when to punch someone next time, promise!”

Jotaro paused in his tracks and with one good look at your determined sparkling eyes, couldn’t help but sigh and smile at you with uncharacteristic fondness.

“Yeah... I’d prefer that.”

[brailsthesmolgurl]

'BLIND' DATE

Preview: After the end of a situationship, you had mustered up the courage to go out on a blind date to finally settle down. But what if, your date happens to be the guy you were in a relationship with?!

Warnings: Angst that is gonna hurt you in your meow meow, Fluff that shall heal the hurt in your meow meow. Mild-implied smexy scenes.

Divider is credited here!

Staring at your own reflection in the mirror, you utilised your 20/20 vision to scan every part of your body, to ensure that you look the best you had been since the last parting with Rafayel. Yes, y/n is finally ready to crawl out of her wailing dungeon to go on a date with a potential boyfriend. A guy whom you had met on some dating website--that you had downloaded out of the blue--had asked you out on a date.

Your gaze paused at your wrist, the bangle that wrapped loosely around your wrists casted a frown on your face. There is no way you are going to wear something your supposed-ex had given to you a long time ago. You see, Rafayel and you had never been exclusive anyways, although a huge part of you wished that the both of you would gravitate towards being more than friends.

But that wish of yours simply stayed as a wish, till the day it was crushed by Rafayel telling you that he does not see himself in relationships due to how demanding he can be in one; be it physical or mental. He clearly has a reason of his own but you could not seem to see it from his two sense and so, a stupid argument erupted which led you to your confession and with him standing in shocked. However, he decided to add fuel to the fire and dismissed your liking towards him and off you went. Not even turning your head back at once.

It has been months from then, no form of contact was initiated between the both of you. Mostly you blocking him off of your social media and contact lists and beelining only on your own self-recovery. Life was pretty banal for you till you stumbled upon this user on your dating app, who is in search of a partner. This app only allows you to get to know the person via texting, all of their information such as gender, MBTI, Blood Type, Likes and Dislikes etc were shown except for their looks and name. It is an app that prides itself on making matches purely based off of one's personality rather than looks.

Perhaps, this is a fresh start for you. The guy you had been chatting with so far has left a good impression with you, sharing same perspectives, telling humourless dad jokes (that you sadly fell for all the time, smiling behind the screen like a fool), flirtatious and incredulously charming. For a glimpse, you thought it was Rafayel given the similarities of their spelling errors in their texts yet you figured well enough that this may not be the same guy afterall since this one is searching for a serious relationship. Flirtatious texts do not die off easily as one may think and this situationship of yours with this mysterious man named ‘Turtleboi’ had fluorished so much within the span of a few months that it got you to thoroughly consider going out to meet him.

Flashing back to the texts where he had asked you out on a date, you could not help but to blush at the thought of it. The way he proposed for a date was exactly how you figured, or wished Rafayel would have done it to you and it goes something like this:

𝗦𝗼, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘂𝗽𝗰𝘂𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘆.

𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗹𝗲.

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲. 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂??

𝗔 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸?

𝗜 𝗯𝗲𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿, 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗼𝗰𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀! 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁, 𝗹𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗵, 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿, 𝘁𝗲𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴!

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬. 𝐈 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝗢𝗵 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆, 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀.

Your hands would not stop trembling, the atmosphere of the fine dining restaurant eerily colder than ever. It was however, a restaurant that you would never step foot into given its prestige. Not that you have the sort of funds to spend it on fresh seafood here when bulk, half-par seafood you can purchase from any supermarkets is a huge bang to your buck. Maybe it is the way the lights barely glowed in this private room as well, causing the velvet scarlet walls to take form of the insides of a belly, enveloping you within its grasp and that is the moment you know that you are way too nervous for a date as such.

You fumbled with your fingers, dazing off with your eyes trained on your bodycon dress as you stayed sat on your plush dining seat. The restaurant should be sued for having such comfortable seats as you might actually consider stopping by just to nap on the seats rather than have a meal here. With you being such a nervous wreck, your last bit of conscience took over and you started to grab your clutch, already aiming to leave at the very last minute before you are about to meet this guy.

Your conscience speaks of your deepest insecurities and you know why you would want to back out at the last moment. Your insecurities are consuming you at this very moment. Maybe you did not have the adequate amount of time to heal from Rafayel’s rejection and it led you to believe that you probably should not be in a a relationship until the day you can forget about Rafayel. You got up and made your way towards the door only for it to be swung open in front of you and your eyes widened in shock, fascination, horror, and all kinds of emotions that you had never felt before. But most likely had gotten it bottled up, sealed closed and stuffed into the darkest corners of your memory closet.

“IT’S YOU?!” You could not help the rise of volume in your voice, the scrunched eyebrows of frustration, the gritting of teeth that tightened your jaw, the heartbeat that you could only achieve after a marathon and your trembling hands that would very much like to cross jab towards his face. Rafayel’s handsome face. His nebulic eyes formed beads on his pinched face, question marks littered all over his face, his form a bit more frail than you had last remembered but he still is looking like a living, breathing art piece. And you curse yourself for that thought despite your current state.

“I guess it is me.” The artist recollected himself, readjusting the flaps of his blazer and he stood up straight again, his facial features setting back to their own neutral position again. Now he looks like those marble statues of famous people, not smiling, but just introductory. He gestured at the room and you sighed, knowing that it would be even more rude to walk out now so you turned and sat back at your seat. “You look nice today, y/n.”

Your silence and ennui attitude made it clear that you did not want to be anywhere near him and he was quick to read the room, choosing to take the seat right next to you when the table can fit up to 15 guests and the most ideal seat would be the furthest one away from you. “Let’s get this over with.” You avoided his gaze when you spoke. Being enthralled with his beauty is the last thing you wish for right now, let alone being in a room with him.

“Alright then, don’t mind me treating this like an actual date then.” He shrugged off his blazer, revealing the formal white formal button-up shirt beneath and his slender digits went up to unbutton the top two buttons, revealing more of his Adam's apple. Damn. "It is a fair night to be acquainted by you Miss Y/n. I hope this dinner shall not disappoint you in considering me to be your boyfriend."

How did you not realised? No, how did you not trust your own gut? The nonchalance, the flirts, the typos, it was all pointing towards Rafayel but why did you not buy it? "What made you changed your mind about being in a relationship Rafayel?" You finally lifted your head off of the floor, but was only able to look at his Adam's apple as you spoke. Damn.

"You know." Rafayel uncorked the bottle of champagne and started pouring it into the champagne flutes. The gold liquid sloshed around as it got emptied from the bottle, almost sparkling under the shine of the chandelier. "It was a bit of a brutal brulesque for my mind. I had to strip down what I had fundamentally believed in, set away my ego for a while to give whatever a relationship is, a try it deserves."

Your eyes blinked rapidly a few times and you silently thanked him as he passed you the champagne flute. It smelled of honeysuckle, with a mixture of grapefruit and lychee. It is your first time drinking a champagne afterall. "Why did you consider it only after I had left?" You took a small sip, the cold liquid kisses your lips before gliding down your throat and leaving a sweet and fruity trail in its wake.

The champagne in Rafayel's flute failed to meet his lips as he drew back his arms in midair to answer your question, his eyes lost a bit of a glimmer when he reminisced the bitter thought. The expensive stalk twirled between his thumb and index finger, his gaze following the tiny movements. "Maybe, I wanted to try it with you instead." He was cool-headed when he spoke, the sweetness of the champagne may not even be a cure to the taste of bile he is feeling in his thorax. "I got the app because I figured maybe I could try it on some nobody before I get to you finally."

"So...you wanted to try it with someone you barely knew?" Your eyebrows frowned, just like your lips and you caught his eyes, which were already trained on you. It has been quite a while since you had seen a pair of eyes so beautiful. The last you recalled a pair of great colours would be an old lady whom sat down to have a chat with you while you were enjoying the sunset by the park. You remembered her eyes clearly, both sparkled a close resemblance to amethyst stones. Perhaps, a swatch of pink would be more of a familiar gaze. And now you are met with those familiar windows of one's soul.

"You could put it that way, but I was only prepping myself for you." He cleared his throat and finally drank, downing his drink in one go and refilling it almost immediately. Although looking nonchalant, the man cursed himself for not pacing his words well.

"And you thought breaking someone's heart for a stupid experiment of yours is a great idea?" You voiced in bruquesness, reproachful even. "I think I should leave." You pushed your chair back, the carpeted floors silenced the protesting screeches of the heavy chair. Snagging your clutch off of the chair, you turned towards the door and careened over to the exit.

A strong grip settled onto your wrist and you were tugged back in an instant. Rafayel was up and off of his seat, holding onto your wrist and making use of his larger body to entrap you against the wall. Your height only allows you to extend all the way to his collarbone. His cologne ambushed you as well, a waft of sea salt and bergamot. His signature scent. You snapped yourself back to reality by chewing onto the insides of your cheek, nagging yourself to not be tempted. "Who said I was going to break their heart hmm?"

"It's not like you get to know who is behind the texts on that stupid dating app." Your face reddened, the warmth of it easily being the heater to warm up the chilled room. "All the more reason for you to just settle temporarily and move on if things don't go your way." His other hand snaked around behind your back, his touch blazing a hot track against your covered skin. Your bodycon dress not exactly the thickest material to fend off physical touches. He wrapped his arm around the lower of your back and pushed you further up against the wall and you gasped when his nose tip came in contact with the top of your head.

"I would not do that, because I chose wisely." You can feel his arm tightened his grip around you and he pulled back slightly, the chandelier's glow formed a soft outline for his figure. "And I had a strong hunch, the person I am interested in, is you." The hand that was previously holding your wrist, came to pepper your cheek with featherlight touches. You looked like a porcelain doll to him, too hard of a touch and you might just crumbled, like how you did in front of him last time. Your abjection made his heart ached and hence the mindset change.

The tips of both of your noses touched as he lowered himself a little, a gesture he usually do when he hugs you last time in respect of your smaller size. It was adorable till it lasted, but now, in this moment, it still is an adorable detail that does not go amiss. "How...did you knew...it was me?" Your curiosity got the best of you, and you just got to be greedy and to sought for the answer. "There are just as many other candidates out there, that could be me."

"The story you told me of the turtle." His eyes wandered, from your left eye to your right, then down to your lips and back up again. He is using the triangle method, yes. "I had never told anyone other than you and Thomas, and my aunt who has been with me for as long as I could remember." His username 'Turtleboi' was what prompted you to narrate a story to the anonymous fellow about how a 'guy friend' of yours befriended a turtle during one of his sea adventures. The intricate details and all were told as how you remembered Rafayel reciting them to you. So, that was what sold you off apparently.

You could feel your weight started to shift, the embarassment-o-meter going past its threshold when you realised that Rafayel has gotten you wrapped around his fingers. You wanted to scamper with your tail, or head, buried in between your legs but with your current position, it seemed impossible to escape. "I...I just didn't thought you would--"

"I love you y/n." Interrupted by the man, you felt a finger lifted your chin up and a pair of soft, pillowy lips touched your lips. Your very first kiss, taken in a fine dining seafood restaurant, by a man who had rejected you but oddly rejoiced with you again via a dating app. The kiss ended when you were about to close your eyes and you see Rafayel leaning back slightly, Adam's Apple bobbed once while he gulped down what is possibly nervousness of his own. His diffidence disappeared alongside his gulp and he smiled at you. "This relationship deserves to be given a chance, yeah?"

The sincerity his gaze holds got you good. You smoothed your hands up his taut chest, feeling his pectorals beneath your touch and you locked eyes with him, a smile of solace settled on your lips. "I forgive you Rafayel. And...I love you too." The both of you were leaning in for another kiss before the door opened with a thud and startled the both of you, causing Rafayel to pull you into his arms tightly, shielding you away from any potential threats but the young waiter stood in the doorway, a tray held in front of him, ready to serve the appetiser.

"You may come back later." Rafayel was quick to dismiss the tomato-faced waiter while rubbing small soothing circles on your back as your cheeks laid dormant on his chest. Once the door closed with a thud, Rafayel turned back to you, and lifted your chin once again. "Now, let's not let someone else ruin our relationship yeah?" And he presses his lips onto you again.

A beautiful idea from one of my readers and also a writer whom I look up to greatly. Thanks for requesting me to write this, I had fun burning some of the midnight oil to finish this piece @xvysarene <3! Do support her works as well!

[ghostedgrim]

She's all that is about the popular guy being dared to date the "nerdy girl" by his so called friend, he takes the dare but ends up falling for her. She finds out and they have a fight and break up. He wins her back in the end. Take it anyway you want! I do want Eric to be jealous as hell after they break up when other guys start taking an interest in reader!!

She's All That pt.1

Pt2. Request page. Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️: Getting dared to pretend to date someone, implied violence, jealousy,

"Eric, with all so respect, you're a Dauntless leader, yet you've been single since day one." The music in the bar is so loud that for a moment Eric almost didn't hear him.

"Personally James, I don't see how that's relevant. I have enough hookups to satisfy me plenty, I don't need some girl or whatever. Relationships I just a bothersome hassle."

"I bet you don't have a single romantic bone in your body."

"That's what you think, James," the bartender hands Eric a plate of food and leaves her number on the receipt. "Now if I were an unromantic man, that woman wouldn't have given me her number just now."

"Okay whatever, we both know you're good at getting men and women into your bed, but can you handle a full on relationship?"

"Yes, I just prefer not to, I don't need it" Eric shrugs.

James smirks and holds up his wallet. "Prove it then, date y/n then, the ex Erudite girl from your iniation class. You don't have to love her back, just make her love you. Do it and I'll pay for your next tattoo."

"Fine, how long do I have?"

"I'll give you about a month."

"Then we have deal James."

Is drinking by the chasm stupid? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not, not when I've been on a week long trip to Amity to handle Dauntless soldiers who forgot their mission and decided to play with the Amity girls. My job is to train and direct Dauntless soldiers, yet most days I find myself spanking ass because they don't know how to behave.

"God I should've stayed in Erudite." I groan. Obviously it isn't true, the people there were cruel, liars, manipulators, vain, but I must admit I missed all the reading and research I'd done throughout my time there.

"Saying stuff like that would get you killed," I damn near jump out of my skin at the sound of the deep rumbling voice behind me. I turn around to see Eric standing right behind me. He wraps an arm around my waist to stable me, and guide me away from the chasm as I sway. "Long day?"

"More like a long week," my hard scowl meets his cold grey eyes, "What do you want Eric?"

He looks at me with a prideful expression, "I wish to take you out on a date. Don't worry about work tomorrow I'm assigning you a day off."

I scoff, taking another sip of my drink. "Me? Hookup with you? Not interested."

Eric falters for a moment, a small tick in his jaw, before returning to that prideful arrogance. "Good, I'm not interested in a hookup. Meet me tomorrow at 8pm by the train, I'd like to get to know you, nerdy and all."

Before I could even argue he walks away, that entitled ass really thinks I'll just go where he tells me because he said it's a date. I wonder if he uses that method with every girl he hooks up with. Either way I'm not going.

"I'm not going." I remind myself for the uptinth time today. I'm laying on my stomach atop a skyscraper, sniper rifle in hand. Every shooting range in Dauntless is underground except for the rifle range. Every target is at least a mile away, and every night they're moved to a new spot, hidden somewhere on the streets below, or hidden in a new room within the buildings around me. Sometimes, the targets are put on conveyors so they move around, and sometimes some are hidden so well you can only see a tiny sliver. To handle a gun that can shoot from miles away takes practice, and extreme smarts. Constantly I must calculate how the wind may effect my bullet, how far before gravity pulls it down, the most effective place to hit a target, arm to disarm, leg to stop them from running, chest or head to kill.

Only 7 people here in Dauntless have been trained and can handle a rifle and I'm one of those seven. It's one of the few jobs I can use to challenge myself. Kinda fascinating how using a gun takes so much math and knowledge in physics. None the less, I still train at least twice a week like the others.

I'm not fucking going! BANG!! My gun jerke violently, the bullet flies through the air landing perfectly onto the head of a far away target.

I look at my watch, "6:15." I'm not fucking going.

I readjust. BANG!!

I wonder what Eric could possibly have in mind for our date. Wait, why the fuck should I even care? I'm not even going.

It would be rude to stand him up though, and maybe he does actually like me, maybe he's finally going to be in a relationship and he actually chose me. I scoff, nah that's fucking stupid, as if Eric would think to pick me our of all the women already obsessed with him. I'm sure he'll live if stand him up.

BANG!! I miss by a whole 5 feet. "Fucker."

BANG!! I miss again...

It's 7:58, I'm standing by the train tracks wearing my nicest black dress, combat boots, and my favorite gun and dagger holstered to my thigh beneath the skirt of my dress. I even did my makeup. Fuck me, why the Hell did I fall for this crap?

I watch the train approach. "Where the Hell is Eric? Is this a prank?" I fail to hear the frantic footsteps from behind me. I barely have time to process anything before there's an arm around my waist and I'm getting dragged into a train car.

"Sorry I'm late, had some last second paperwork to handle. Thank God I made it in time to catch the train. You okay?" Eric is wearing his typical black cargo pants, combat boots, his black shirt is tight fitting and pared with a black jacket, his hair is in it's signature style and everything. Why the Hell am I about to swoon?

"I'm uh, yeah I'm fine." I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I regain my footing. "For a moment I was scared you stood me up."

Eric scoffs, "Stand up a beautiful girl like you? I'd rather punch a brick wall." He sits down on the threshold of the door, letting his legs dangle out of the traincar as we race through the city. "Come sit," he pats his thigh.

If he's dissapointed I didn't sit on his lap he doesn't show it as I sit across from him. Unlike him I keep my legs inside the train car. "So uh..." I click my tounge, "why did you ask me out in a date, and why did you do it without the intent of hooking up? Last time I checked you never had time for a girlfriend."

"You've never been asked out before-"

"Oh so you're asking me out as a joke? Or pity? Because I'm not staying if that's the case." Eric appears to panic for a moment and quickly grips my shoulder as I try to stand.

"I wasn't finished," he states defensively, Eric's eyes stare deep into mine, their color cold as a winter storm, yet my cheeks warm and my heart stutters. I should probably check that with a doctor. "You and I came to Dauntless and went through iniation at the same time, if I recall correctly you ranked 10th place out of 35 initiates. Now you're not only training and directing Dauntless soldiers, but you're also apart of the only seven people here in Dauntless capable of handling a sniper rifle. I think I have every reason to be curious about you, because the fact that nobody has asked you out is baffling, especially considering how stunning and powerful you are."

Never have I expected a man like Eric to say such words. Stunning? Powerful? I know I'm strong, no idea where he gets the idea I have good looks, but honestly, I feel like I'm the hottest girl in Dauntless after hearing those words. Eric's hand rests atop mine, warm, strong, calloused from rigorous training, his eyes seem to trace my face, and suddenly I'm 16 and freshly transferred to Dauntless again. Eric was terrifying, but hot back then, he still is now just more tame.

I soon realize I've been gaping like a damn fish for minutes now and Eric's small chuckle breaks me from my trance. "I take it nobody has told you that before," he brings a hand to my cheek, his expression soft, "let me be the one to change that, to show and tell you just how amazing you are."

I used to imagine how his lips would taste. t

Then I turned 17 and pushed it from my mind because I was convinced Eric would never love me. He would always be too busy chasing tail to even notice me. But now his eyes are on my lips, his tounge even darts out for a moment to lick his bottom lip. He then looks back at my eyes, he leans in the hand on my cheek pulling me closer. "You smell like strawberries." Our lips are almost touching, his warm breath fanning across my jaw, he smells like gunpowder, cedarwood, and whiskey. I can barely hear anything over my pounding heart. I close my eyes, leaning forward to close the distance between us.

"Shit!" I open my eyes as Eric frantically pulls himself away from the door and the traincar is encased in darkness for several seconds until we leave the small tunnel. "Fuck," Eric laughs, "nearly lost my damn leg." I can't help but to laugh with him.

"That would certainly be quite the traumatic first date." We settle down again the wall both looking out the open door across from us. "How about we just keep all our limbs inside the train for now?" Eric sighs, and we both relax taking in the sight and sounds of the dark clouds rolling in and the distance thunder. The train rolls through the miles of green, flat land between the city and Amity. You can still see the bright lights of the Erudite buildings. It's peaceful, and I can't help but just enjoy the moment rather than talk.

"I once lit my hand on fire." Eric says it so casually as if he were talking about the damn weather.

"You what! Please do tell." I smile like a little kid excited for candy. Eric smiles back and dives into the story of how in chemistry he accidentally covered his hand in lighter fluid, then instead of washing it off he thought it faster to just burn it off. Fortunately the fire lit and burnt out too quick to cause any permanent damage.

It's pouring by the time the train reaches the Dauntless sector. Eric jumps off, then I jump right after. I barely have time to finish standing before he's wrapping his jacket around me. "I would hate for you to catch a cold. Now let me walk you home."

I'm starting to think this is a dream.

Asking her out was one thing, I never meant to get attached. We've been dating for almost a month now. Every time I see her my heart stops, and all I can do is admire her like some dumb schoolboy with a crush. Never in my life did I think I could actually fall in love, and never did I think I would stay up all night imagining what it would be like to kiss a girl, let alone replaying the sound of her laughter in my mind over and over. She's strong, smart as Hell, arguably smarter than me, and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous I could drown in her arms. Honestly if she suffocated me I'd probably thank the damn woman.

"I'm fucked, I'm so utterly fucked." I spend maybe another hour in bed with nothing but my boxers on. I'm already running late, but fuck it, it won't kill Max if I'm late for work just once.

I'm quick to change clothes and rushed out of my home to search for y/n. I find her in the training room running a small squad through some drills. Without a single care I kiss her cheek, "Good morning, my dagger. Sorry for interrupting, but I just needed a small taste of you to get through my day." Her cheeks are dusted in red, and fuck she's just so damn cute it stabs my heart, and then her expression snaps back to stone and she shoos me away.

I catch James in the small squad of men, he's smiling and my heart drops as I remember our bet. I take my time walking up to my office. "How the Hell am I going to escape this?"

Today was exhausting, and I received far to many lewd comments about my relationship with Eric than I'd like. But now I can finally go visit Eric at the bar. For a guy known to be heartless and terrifying he's an amazing boyfriend.

Many people, especially Four, had warned me that Eric was likely dating me as a joke, but I highly doubt he'd continue fake dating me for a whole month as a joke. It's definitely not a joke. Yeah he can be mean, really mean, and cruel, especially to initiates, and yes he's heartless to seemingly everyone here in Dauntless but he has exceptions for certain people... I'm important to him, he's not dating me as a joke, sure he's capable of being that cruel but... he isn't doing that... right?

I try to shake the uneasy thoughts from my head, their just stupid fears, that's all. I pull on Eric's jacket and quickly make my way down to the bar.

I've been sitting alone at this table for nearly 20 minutes, and I can feel the eyes on me. My stomach is a storm of unease, and my doubt is ever growing. This isn't the first time Eric has been late to a date. When we first started dating, he had been cocky, full of himself, half the time it sounded like he was trying to talk me into bed. Despite our first date, it had taken me a while to finally, truly open up to him, to trust him, and believe he wouldn't hurt me. Yet here I am, sitting alone at a table a week later.

It's been a fucking hour, and I swear I can hear the whispers, feel the eyes. The waitress looks at me with contempt, as if she's won something and I lost at whatever she was winning it. My unease eventually turns to frustration and soon I'm walking through the dimly lit halls in search of Eric.

"Fuck me man, and here I thought you were incapable of a relationship." James, without a damn doubt that's his voice.

"Well I'm full of surprises." Eric? That's definitely him. Why the Hell is he with James instead of me, and why are they talking about relationships?

I stalk closer to where I'd heard them speaking, James is running his mouth about a girl's ass making it easy for me to find the two men, and watch them while remaining unseen.

"Have you both kissed, better yet fucked?" James asks and it makes my stomach turn sour. Kissing is fine, but asking about my sex life is not. Not that I have one, yet.

Eric huffs, "no we haven't had sex, and unless you count kissing on the cheek, then we haven't kissed yet."

"Ah, so in that case it isn't love." James has a concerningly victorious look.

"Just because we haven't kissed doesn't mean she isn't in love with me. She's never kissed a guy before, let alone have sex." Eric sounds somewhat annoyed.

"Well damn, a virgin, and unkisssed, I think I may need a taste myself. It's been awhile since I've tried a girl like that. Though-"

"James," Eric warns, his voice deep and posture tense. I wish I could see Eric's face, but all I can see is his back.

"Fine, fine, so you claim she's in love with you. Now I can argue that, but I saw the way that girl looked at you when you visited her last week. She looked at you the way a girl looks at a puppy." James shrugs, and then his eyes lock with mine and he smiles. "It seems I've lost our bet Eric. You can be romantic, and you are capable of making any girl, even ugly miss grumpy, genuinely fall for you. I can't wait to watch her face and see her cry when you tell her you're whole relationship has been fake."

"James-"

"Then aging you should definitely keep dating her. Think about it, maybe she'll stop being so closed off and grumpy, better yet, she'll stop being so strict on my squad. Perhaps you can make her give me a few promotions."

"Playing with her emotions to make her date me and fall in love was-"

I don't think, I just run. I don't stop running, not until my legs give out and I find myself sitting in a train car. That asshole! I trusted him, I loved him, and yet that fucker was using me for his own sick gain! My comm link keeps ringing, and in my frustration I stupidly throw it out of the train.

I'm crying so hard I can barely breathe, my chest hurts like Hell, and my vision is so blurry from tears that I can barely see shit. It was fake, it was all fake. Everything he said was fake! I was nothing to him! Absolutely nothing!

I curl up, and I hate myself for doing it, but I pull his jacket tighter around me. "Gods how can I be so fucking stupid... they warned me, so many fucking times and I ignored them like an idiot."

The sun is rising by the time I get off the train. It's freezing cold, snow covers the street and snowflakes fall from the sky. I glance at the cameras as I walk back to the compound. No doubt Four is watching me through them, or is already at my apartment with a whole essay of a lecture awaiting me. I don't even know if I have the energy to keep walking. So I just lean against a brick wall inside an alley.

I don't know how much time has passed, I'm shivering uncontrollably but I just can't seem to move.

"Y/n." His voice is deep, soft, and full of warmth and I find myself crying all over again.

"Four, I... you were right I-" He interrupts me with a tight hug and kisses my forehead.

"Later, let's just get you home and warm." Four bundles me up in a spare jacket and scarf he brought before picking me up and carrying me home. The exhaustion hits me hard and I unwillingly let myself drift asleep.

I'm bundled in thick warm blankets when I wake up, two warm hands hold one of mine. I finally open my eyes. I'm in my bedroom, Four is leaning against the wall near my door, his knuckles scabbed, and splattered with blood. Confused I look to my left to see who the Hell is holding my hand. To my suprise it's Eric. His gaze is locked on our hands, eyes are rimmed in red, bruises decorate his jaw, right eye, and possibly other places, even his nose looks broken.

"Why the fuck are you here?" Eric's head snaps up and he looks at me in such a way that I'm convinced he actually does love me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, what happened- no, what I did was wrong. You didn't deserve any of that." A tear slips down his cheek and I roll my eyes at his pathetic attempt of gaining my pity. "Yes, James and I made a bet with him betting I couldn't make you fall in love with me. It was wrong, and it was cruel for me to manipulate you like that-"

"Get out." I snap.

"Hear him out, trust me," Four interrupts. "We both know Eric isn't the guy to let himself get beat up, especially without throwing at least one punch back." It dons on me that Four beat the shit out of Eric, but that's not what suprises me, it's the fact that Four is utterly unscathed. Eric actually let Four beat him up after what he did to me.

"I- at first it was fun, but then I started to develop feelings and holy shit I fell. I fell hard and fast and I didn't know what to do." Eric's voice breaks and he looks away from me. "You were like a goddam dagger, burrowed deep into my heart and seared into my brain. I thought, maybe to could just let myself win the bet instead of calling it off, you'd never have to know and we'd get to keep dating. You don't have to forgive me, but please know ever I've told you, it was the truth and I do love you. I love you so much it hurts."

"A part of me wants to believe you, Eric. However, the other part of me knows you're nothing more than a lying manipulative snake. I don't want to ever see you again, don't talk to me, don't even look at me."

Defeated Eric finally rids himself from my room.

"What happened to James?" I ask Four.

Four smiles, "Eric broke his jaw."

I sigh, deep in thought, "Did Eric actually let you hit him."

"Pretty much. I found him outside frantically looking for you, I punched first before asking questions. I had already seen all I needed to through the cameras. He didn't fight back once, just stood there and took my beating. I yelled st him for quite a bit before dragging his ass here then returning to the security cameras and waiting for you to step off the train."

"Four?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. And if I ever act that stupid again, slap the shit out of me."

[whiteboi-inferiority]

Some of you been trying to get in touch lately. That's cool.

If you're just swinging by to say hi and thanks, then what follows doesn't apply to you.

You want me to talk to you though? Some hints and tips (and very common mistakes to avoid) that will increase your chances of an actual conversation or two and from there, who knows.

The best way is to have a blog with some original content. Pics of you, stories, captions, whatever. I'm looking for commitment and authenticity, some skin in the game, some evidence of actual fucking effort. In your message don't just fawn. I don't need that. Be brief, be articulate, be confident in what you like and what you bring to the table and be clear on why you want a place with me, specifically, over any generic black guy or Dom. Job interview etiquette applies and know I get 4 or 5 'candidates' a day. Respect the fact I am a busy guy with a life away from here, several real life submissives, and several more long distance things going on. My girls, gurls and bois are all different, all exquisite, and they all interest me in different ways. It's on you to show me what i'm missing and why I'm going to make time for you. Be a muse, be amusing. Wow me.

So!

If you have an empty blog, don't bother. I'm not interested in lurkers.

If your blog is just reposts of the usual stuff I've seen 100 times before, don't bother.

If you're just going to start contact with 'hey...', don't bother. I'm not interested.

If you're just looking for someone, anyone, to Dom you for the 2 minutes it takes for you to jerk off, don't bother. I'm not a jack off service.

If your blog is full of explicit hard core porn, don't bother - your account will be deactivated soon and you'll probably be disappeared before we start chatting away from here anyway. You don't represent a good ROI of my time. Of the 4 or 5 of you that make contact today, 2 of you will be gone tomorrow, and at least 1 more within the month. Even duvluvv and bangmybully my previous mainstays and inspo on this blog have managed to fuck that up and get themselves banned.

Unless your wife/gf/mom/daughter is hot, living near me and interested in hooking up, I don't care that you wish you could see them suck a cock like a Blacked girl right in front of you. If I can't see it, smell it, hear it, taste it or feel it - if its not actually going to happen on my cock - I don't care.

Outright headcanon fantasists and part-timers who 'don't need to dress up because they can imagine it so well...', hard pass. If I tell you to feminise yourself, take a pic in a certain pose, jerk off a certain way or make a post about something it isn't a question of whether you feel you need that to sustain your little fantasy. It's a question of whether you're going to pay the price of submission to talk to me. If you can't or won't follow simple instruction, then I have no interest in you.

Those of you who confuse sissy with trans, hard pass. Trans women are women. You are not a woman just because you fantasise about being sexually submissive and effeminate around a black man. You're a sissy, a toy, a whiteboi fuckdoll. That's all. If you can't or don't accept that, don't bother.

FLR, ABDL, Gooners: kittens I adore seeing you relinquish your masculinity and pride to roll around in your own shame and filth. But to be clear: these kinks are your weaknesses, not my interests. I cater to you because my mission is to enable every single last one of you whiteboi fucks to become codependent emasculated bottom-feeders of one kind or another, willingly, done by yourselves to yourselves, stripped of the convenient deniability of coercion. I'm fixing to cook and push good quality junk so you can fuck yourselves up, not share the needle. Definitely not looking to change your fucking diapers.

If you clearly haven't read this pinned note, don't bother.

Stay sticky, losers

D

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?”  + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.���

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

[iiotic]

TWO WRONGS, DONT MAKE IT RIGHT, AFTERALL

summary: your relationship with wanderer is complicated, friends? friends with benefits? partners? enemies? definitely not the last one, yet you don't know the answer to that question.

tw: modern au, female reader, swearing, suggestive, ooc wanderer?? sexual topics, wanderer is taller than you, not proff read, lowercase intended, poorly written, cringe, if you'll find more please tell me!! MDNI | wc: 1.4k

"what are we?" the question hovers your mind hundreds and thousands times already, yet none of you two are brave enough to ask about it. pheraps in wanderers case its his pride?

instead, you just keep everything.. flowing. one time, he'll be as sweet as sugar and the next day he's as cold as ice. it's not the first time you bumped into him him with another woman and its not the first time he caught you flirting with another man.

one day, you're sitting in a cafe across the street from the university. you took a deep breath, scrolling through the social media mindlessly with your head in the clouds as you were lost in your thoughts. until a tall male took a seat infront of you.

a very known tall male with his signature dark blue hair and violet eyes, wearing a black shirt with some sweatpants for today.

"hello there" he greeted you, teasingly.

you looked up at him from your phone, an unpleasant expression formed on your face as you remembered the events that accured last night. as you were coming back from the local library you found him and some random chick making out in an alley way.

you obviously didn't care, why would you? its not any of your business who he fucks. you grumbled a greeting before looking back at your phone again, hoping that he can leave as soon as possible.

he gave you a subtle smile, while scanning your face. you were so lost in your thoughts, staring at your phone, that he was able to take a good look at you without disturbance.

"what's up with that face?" he asked, leaning his back on the chair.

"what's up with you."

his stupid signature smirk formed on his lips. you know him as well as he did with you. he knows your mood. he knows the possibility of whats bugging you inside, and him seeing you frown and pout like this, clearly means something is irritating you. however he decided not to push it.

"nothing much. just thought i'd stop by here." he responded casually. "and see you."

"why don't you stop by somewhere else where your woman is."

"i dont have a woman." he almost chuckled at your sassy remarks. "though, i do have a date in 30 minutes." he answered bluntly, giving you a glance before focusing his attention on the waitress.

he didn't look like he was going on a date, more like going to dig trash to find something to eat, but then not finding anything and starving to death.

"even better, how many woman have you seen this month.." you said, it was clearly a rhetorical question. you opened your mouth to say something but a waitress cut you off.

"may i take your order?" you looked at wanderer who seemed deep in thoughts before starting ordering a bunch of things. he stopped and then the waitress turned to you, you quickly dismissed her saying that you don't want anything. she looked confused at first as she thought you guys were on a date but walked away not questioning anything anyway.

"i thought you were going on a date in 30 minutes, why are you ordering so much, hell, why are you ordering anything at all?" you questioned him, clearly irritated by his doing and his presence here.

"i am." he answered bluntly, once again. not adding anything not even looking at you anymore.

the awkward silence accured, nor you nor wanderer saying anything to break it. 15 minutes passed and the food was put on your table, that you booked for yourself tonight, that you were supposed to enjoy alone.

"say, are you jealous that im going on a date?" he said finally breaking the silence, yet at the same time offending you.

"excuse me? i feel bad for all of the hearts that you've broken, these poor woman.." you said defending yourself and feeling pity for all of the females he hooked up with then just leave them feeling worthless, you glared at him as he started laughing, clearly not taking you seriously.

"please, they all know better that im not exactly into commitment. they know im not worth breaking their hearts. they just want to enjoy the ride, one night and nothing more."

"well, have fun with your new date." you said standing up and heading to the door. you heard enough from him, you had enough of him. you didn't care about him nor his sex life, then why did your eyes watered as you waddled to the exit?

"dont be so cold like that, im hurt!" he yelled, chuckling. that were the last words you heard from him before leaving the building.

why did the truth hurt? why did you care? why were you crying right now? your making messed up as you waited for your taxi to your apartment. yet deep down you knew that you're just as bad as he is, just as terrible as his actions; you thought as you rode the taxi driver, desperately needing a stress reliever.

the morning after yesterdays incident of bumping into eachother, you found yourself in bed with another man. was it the taxi driver? you thought, before leading him to the front door in only his boxers. the answer was positive. you kicked him iut of the house, before seeing that there's a package in front of your front door that he almost stepped on.

quickly picking it up and closing the door behind you, ignoring the taxis driver screams. you walked into your kitchen, looking for the scissors to open it. the package was medium size, not too small yet big enough to fit a cat.

you slowly, precisely opened the package not knowing whats inside. it didn't have a label on it, it could've been a bomb but you were met with a small box with a muffin from the cafe you were at yesterday, it was your favourite in fact and an small piece of paper that had something written on it.

"read your messages"

thats it? nothing more? just read your messages? you pulled out your phone to find 8 unread messages from kuni, 7 of the first ones were deleted, the latest one saying "sorry ig"

it was so stupid. then why did you caught yourself smiling at the sight? maybe you'll forgive him or maybe you've already forgave him.

if you were so mad at him then why did you talk with him the entire evening?

© 2024 iiotic. — do not steal, translate or repost any of my content onto any other platform

this is so cringe, might delete it later

[ioniansunsets]

Alright but hear me out (hello btw how are you ?) kayn heartsteel have canonically been kicked out of his previous band ; imagine fem!reader (successful idol herself or civilian) comforting him and trying to help him push through it and get back on his feet to continue his music !

✖ Pre Heartsteel!Kayn Being Kicked Out ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S, Idol!Reader

✖ A/N: You were a performer too and met him at a gig before either of you got famous! You two live together in this one, you’re a solo idol that practices at home so you can spend your days with him. These are headcanons! Whee!

----

-  It wrecked him. You two got together while he was in his old band, so it was an important memory to you both. As a solo artist, you understood the intricacies of being in the public eye but still, being kicked out? That was rough…something you personally could never experience. You did your best to comfort him.

- The first few days was the worst. Kayn was the perfect definition of bi-polar. Either his Rhaast ego was full blown, wild, and uninhibited. Man straight up was about to do crimes and was only stopped by you begging him not to make things worse for himself. (You caught him with a bag full of spray paint about to go wreck his old studio.) Or he was the trained Idol, Kayn. Rhaast entirely held back, the perfect definition of an average idol, obedient and reserved. Joining you in your dance and vocal practices in your home studio.

- Don’t even talk about the things he tweeted during that era, you had to run into his room and tell him to delete them minutes after posting. It was a bad time. If you were to ask Kayn now about those old tweets? He was on the very fence of, cocky pride on how he was a “badass” that “didn’t follow rules back then” or just overwhelming embarrassment for being young and dumb.

- There was a lot of work to be done over those first few days, you got the help of your own PR guys to try and get Kayn’s media presence looking better. You yourself doing your best to give him advice on performing, it wasn’t even that he was a bad artist, it was just…he had some strong ideals and just didn’t work well with his old band. It took months honestly but as always, drama died down and Kayn slowly got to live his life again.

- The saddest part of all this drama was that because you were an idol too it was hard to bring him out to comfort him. Paparazzi were hounding you both, media wanting to know what went down with Kayn and if you were seen beside him…gods who knew what the media would say about your career. You two barely left your house because you just couldn’t.

- So, all you could do was your best. Dragging him to game with you on the PC, buying new consoles to try new games with him (murdering things in game really helped him unsurprisingly), watching movies together at home (feel good films that actually make him cry), getting him to do weird shit like painting your shared room (you have a messy signature of his by the door), crocheting weird little animals (he made Rhaast!), hells you managed to get him to read a book (banned in various nations). It was…different. But it helped keep his mind off doing anything that would ruin his career more while satisfying his need to just be a creative.

- On one of those uneventful days, Kayn ordered a nice little delivery package and excitedly ran into your room. Holding the plastic bag up proud. “ Y/N. I’m going to change my image. Entirely. Can you help me. Like…Right. Fucking. Now.” You stare at him in confusion until he walked up to your table, and pulled 7 boxes of bleach and dye, dumping them on your table. “ I’m going to go hot pink.” You laugh, but oblige anyway. If it would cheer him up then you would spend the day helping him out.

- There was a lot of angry snuggling on boring evenings. Kayn would lie in bed in your arms ranting about his ideals, how he was meant for bigger, greater things, things no one else in the industry or his old band could comprehend. And you would hug him tight, supporting him as he complained, listening, agreeing where you can, giving him bigger and better ideals of grandeur. The both of you knew it wasn’t anything serious, but it really did help lighten his mood. “ I’ll really set the stage on fire next time just watch me.” “ I’ll bring the gasoline then.” “ For real! I will fucking bring fireworks and shit too. It’ll be sick as hell! Never seen before! I’ll wreck the stage!!!! Livestream that shit!!!” Such evenings would end with the both of you laughing. It was nice to see him happier again in those small moments. Sometimes you could even see a sneak of a soft smile creeping onto his face, his appreciation for you playing along and not stopping him.

- It took about a week before you felt it was right to get him to pick his guitar back up. Convincing him that the best way to get over the bad memories was to form new ones, the two of you sitting down to write a song. He really went HARD with the lyrics, it was a damn god rap at that but it was honestly a diss track at his old band and shall stay hidden in the files of your computer forever. You do secretly listen to it sometimes, it was raw as fuck, personally it helped YOU when you were angry and frustrated. Not that you would admit to him. It would only stroke his ego more.

- He only admitted it once. Once when you two were soaking in a hot bath together. Only Once did he tell you how much your support meant to him. Nice smells and colors from a bath bomb floating around you two. It was a slow morning, a few weeks after getting kicked out, right before he joined Heartsteel. You sat there, back against his chest as he rests his head on your shoulder. Relaxing in the tub. It was peaceful silence before he spoke up. “ Y/N…I’m going to join a new band.” You actually had to pause and turn to stare at him. Shocked. Asking him if he was sure, if he was ready, if he was comfortable to be performing with people again. You held his face, asking once more if this is what he wanted to do in his career, if he was going to give up on going solo like you. His hand rose to hold yours against his face as he spoke. “ Yeah, I talked to them a lot the past week and…they genuinely accept me and all my crazy ideas. They love Rhaast for who he is and I think I can work with this. I’m sure about this.” He laughs, putting your arm down as his hands wrap around you in a tight hug. Kayn moving his face down to your neck as he gives you a soft kiss, gentle, barely there as he whispers, not looking at you. “ I have to thank you for this by the way. For letting me Be Rhaast. For telling me time and time again to just be the Rockstar that I was meant to be. That my unique brand of rock was fine. I’ll remember this forever. Every time you see Rhaast on stage it’ll be thanks to you. Remember that.” And that was it. He never really showed his vulnerability about his old band ever again. The next day he joined Heartsteel, and it was great for him. Your own heart feeling warm and fuzzy seeing him laugh and have fun with new bandmates. And when you stand in the audience, seeing Rhaast rap some sick bars, you can’t help but smile. He was Your Rockstar.

[raina-at]

Pride

Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!

A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!

I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.

--------

"Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Dad!"

John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"

Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.

"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.

"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"

"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.

"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."

"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.

"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."

"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."

"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."

"You think I do?"

Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like  'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."

John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.

"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.

John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"

She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"

John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."

Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.

"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."

Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"

"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"

She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.

"Is he good to you? Good for you?"

She nods again.

"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"

Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"

"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."

Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."

John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"

"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"

"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."

Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.

John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.

----

Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[humanityinahandbag]

Steddie Modern AU: TikTok

Steve would absolutely be that guy who would not understand TikTok. He and Eddie are older by the time it comes out, and most of the content there is of young kids going completely buck wild. Steve of course disapproves, hands on his hips, huffing about no supervision these days even though he was absolutely a terror in high school.

Eddie, rock star that he is, gets it to an extent. "They're expressing themselves!" he'd say.

Steve would only shake his phone around and point aggressively to a video playing on loop of a young man dancing along to some new trendy song, trying his hardest to seem cool and popular. "This isn't expression," he'd say, mother hen voice at top volume. "This is them trying to peacock to the world!"

"You did that once, too, Stevie."

"Yeah, and I was a little shit!"

And so Steve, in an effort to curb the young teenage population and keep them from making his mistakes (mostly due to parental neglect and hopeless, crushing self deprivation), would start his own TikTok channel.

"Hey there," he says into the camera, because for all the pride around his good looks, he has zero clue how to record a video of himself. "My names Steve, and I've been noticing a bunch of you on here who are out of control! Listen to me, alright? You need to dial it back. All that shit in high school is completely null and void when you're an adult. Trust me. From a former popular asshole, there's better shit you could be doing. Now let me show you how to scramble an egg."

His videos mostly consist of simple lessons. Giving out little pieces of advice. Teaching them basic life skills he had to learn on his own. How to cook. How to clean. How to iron a polo shirt. How to style your hair. How to do laundry. How to do basic first aid.

He often becomes transparent, telling them about his own childhood.

Sometimes he brings Eddie into his videos.

"This is my husband's favorite," he says, by way of explanation as he shows TikTok how to make pasta sauce from scratch. "He used to eat spaghetti out of a can. A fucking can!"

Despite his posturing on stage, Eddie becomes shy whenever a camera is in his face, and ducks his head away, smiling quietly towards the camera. "It's not that bad," he says.

"Not that- The sodium in that could kill an elephant!" Steve laughs.

"Yeah, well... I don't want you doing too much for me."

"I like doing things for you."

Eddie flushes and ducks his head, hiding his face away behind a curtain of curls.

Steve leans over a kisses his temple, pushing him gently out of frame where he'll be more comfortable, before turning back to the camera. "Anyway, this recipe is great if you're on your own for long periods of time. Especially because you can freeze some for later. Now the trick here is garlic. Let me show you how to peel it without making a huge mess!"

It's a month later where Dustin shows up at their door and shoves his phone into Steve's face. "Why the fuck," he'd snap, "are you trending?"

It turns out, the tiny community that Steve had been lecturing to wasn't as small as he originally thought.

There are so many kids out there desperate for parental affection, and they look to Steve, feeding off his pride, his kindness, his stories, his advice. Not only that but the fact that they get to see a former bully, a former popular kid, a man who grew up from neglect, become someone happy and married?

That's just... so wonderful.

"I've been on TikTok from the beginning and I only have, like, two thousand followers."

"So what? I don't have that many."

"You've got three million, Steve," said Dustin. Steve was not expecting that, squinting at the phone screen in his face. "Three fucking million! People are stitching your videos saying you guys are their new dads," Dustin squawked. "How did you not know you were this popular!?"

"I didn't know how to check my follower count!" Steve said, sincerely. It wasn't like he actually checked the thing! He just enjoyed making videos.

"You're so old."

"Hey," said Eddie from the kitchen, "don't talk about your mother that way."

"Yeah!" agreed Steve. "Don't talk to me that way! Now get into my next video so I can introduce you to your three million siblings."

And that is why I firmly believe that, if given the chance, Steve (and subsequently, Eddie) would absolutely become the internet's favorite parental figure(s).

[yawnjzznn]

i like you; c. yj

pairing: yeonjun x reader (high school au)

summary: your relationship with yeonjun has stayed in the friend zone for years. you both have gone through many relationships to try and forget about the other, timing never doing you guys any justice. things only start to stir when you ask his enemy to date you for show.

wc: 4.1k

note: might make a part 2 smut

warnings: angst(?), argument, comfort ending, not proof read

the suns shining way too bright for it to be considered a good day today. you squint as you walk to school, clutching on your strap bag weighing down on your shoulders.

you’re walking alone today, and maybe it’s because you chose a gloomy playlist or maybe because your eyeliner today didn’t turn out good— you feel lonely.

or maybe it’s because you weren’t sitting in the passenger seat of yeonjun’s car, singing along to whatever song he had on queue.

yeah, maybe it was that.

or maybe it was because he had got into another relationship— abandoning you again.

but you know he’d come back to you— that’s how it always was. his relationship would last a month, maybe two at best, and then something wouldn’t work out and he’d come right back.

that was the same case for you, and he’d always be there waiting.

but it was getting tiring, waiting for him all the time.

his relationship with Shin Seulbi seems to be going well, because it’s been a little over two months since she’s asked him out.

it’s annoying to walk past him, annoying that you guys keep falling out and caving back in.

you’ve known him for so long. you were 10 when you met him and now you both were on the last year of highschool, finally making it to 18.

there seems to be a string connecting you guys because no matter what happens, no matter how big of an argument or relationship— it would always end with a text from either you or him, asking to hang out as if nothing happened.

anyway, you finally reach school, grumpy as you walk up the stairs, heading straight to your classroom that is until you bump into your friends, yunjin and winter.

they’re looking at you, looking a little panicked as they rush you down the stairs, back to where you’d just come from.

“what’s up?” you frown, staring at the two, confused and dazed.

your friends eye each other quietly, a worried expression painting their faces before yunjin decides to speak up, “nothing. the hallway is just so crowded we got pushed around.”

“okay?.. that’s fine.” you laugh, a bit dumbfounded. you can sense it’s a little further— maybe even more personal than what they’re making it out as. and you’re curious to see what they’re trying to protect you from.

you walk up the stairs, ignoring their cries behind you. what could be that bad that they were going out of their way to shield you from?..

maybe you should’ve listened.

maybe you should’ve let them distract you.

because as you enter your floor, a sight immediately catches your attention. yeonjun.

he’s not with Seulbi, matter of fact he’s propped himself up against a wall— surrounded by a group of girls that were quite literally swooning over him.

you frown before turning your head behind to where your friends awkwardly stood at.

“what the hells going on?” you asked, feeling uncomfortable and suddenly extremely hot.

“he broke up with Seulbi and now he’s looking for another girlfriend..” winter mumbled, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

you feel as if your world just crumbled, as if the walls are caving in on you but for your own pride and dignity, you force a smile as wide as you can, letting out an airy laugh, “it’s fine! you guys shouldn’t be freaking out like that. obviously it’s fucked that he’s talking to those girls but i’m getting tired of him anyway.”

they don’t seem to believe you with the way they’re staring, but for your comfort they just smile— the same way you are.

“we were worried.. cus those girls fucked you over last time.” yunjin mumbled, scratching her head, a hesitant tone lacing her words.

“fuck them.” you roll your eyes, “i’ll just go talk to baek kyon. see how he likes that.”

they both gasp, eyes blown wide.

“really?.. are you sure?.. i mean— like him? out of all people?.. don’t you remember they almost got into a fist fight?..” yunjin slapped her hand over her mouth, baffled.

“it’s fine.” you’re so excited at the idea already. you walk further into the hallway, yunjin and winter beside you, talking about how evil your plan was.

and when you walk past him, your eyes lock for a second. the shortest second.

he holds the same expression he’s had for the past few minutes, while you stare blankly.

the way you both just go by makes it seem like you had never known each other— and it’s weird to feel like this because he’s always bounced back to you.

however, you’re more angry than sad so it’s easy to walk up to baek kyon who’s sitting in the back of the classroom, talking to his friends.

“can i talk to you?” you ask, folding your arms and tilting your head.

he stares at you, puzzled. everybody knows your best friends with yeonjun. besides the whole relationship part you guys are— no, were inseparable.

out of curiosity, he smirks, then sits up, “go ahead.”

his friends are eyeing you like crazy— maybe even more shocked than baek kyon is.

“alone.” you said.

he raises his eyebrows, looks at his friends who sends teasing nods, then looks back at you, “fine.”

he lets you lead him to the janitors closet on this floor, staring at you eagerly and curiously.

you decide on going straight to the point: “can you date me? like fake date me?” your voice is confident and stern, but on the inside you’re freaking out. if this doesn’t work, and it gets out— it’d be the most humiliating experience in your whole entire lifetime.

“what?”

“you hate yeonjun right? he’s always doing better than you, always gets higher grades and better at sports? don’t you wanna finally get back at him?” you persuade, leaning against the cupboards, folding your arms.

your heart is thumping out of your chest at the thrill of this horrible spontaneous plan.

“i am better than him!” he huffs, frowning, “and i’ll beat him soon.”

you force out a laugh, “you know grades and all of that doesn’t matter to him right? he doesn’t care about you. he won’t care if you beat him. but he’ll care if you date me. that’s the best way you can bother him. maybe more than he’s ever bothered you.” you’re so convincing even you’re starting to believe yeonjun will be upset at this.

but honestly, you don’t know if he even cares about you that way.

you’re not even sure of his feelings.

baek kyon rolls his eyes, groaning when the bell rings— indicating class has started and you both were late.

“well if we walk in late together it’s already gonna be problematic so might as well..”

you don’t show it but you’re so relived, letting out a breath you never knew you were holding. you can’t help but smile to yourself, finally feeling less tense.

“great! there’s no limits for me. if you want to hold my hand or kiss me it’s fine with me.” you mumble while opening the door to the closet, leaving with him trailing behind you.

“yeah, there’s no limits for me too.” he nods, “but i really hate you, so please don’t try and talk to me. just hang around me and look pretty.”

“i hate you too.” you spit out and open the door to your classroom.

the whole class turns their head at you, unfazed until baek kyon walks into class, walking by you— then sending you a playful wink for the class to see.

you can hear yunjin’s gasp and can’t help but mentally giggle at yourself.

“.. what just happened?” winter whispered to herself, as shocked as everyone else was.

everybody and their mothers knew about the beef between baek kyon and yeonjun— and they knew of you and yeonjun. so seeing you walk in late with baek kyon might’ve been quite the shocker..

the teacher herself is a bit stunned, staring at you with wide eyes, “you both are late..”

“sorry.. i was in the washroom.” you giggle sheepishly as you walk to your seat.

“and you?” she turns her attention to him.

“i was also in the washroom. sorry.” his excuse holds no real truth and he makes it a point to say it without care.

“.. don’t let it happen again.”

you turn your head to look at him to find him already staring at you with the most mischievous grin ever. he then cups his hands over his mouth so that only you can see what he’s mouthing: “choi. yeonjun.”

you blink, accidentally letting your eyes trail over to where yeonjun sat— and he’s staring at you, hard.

he’s leaned back on his seat per usual, a folded leg kicked over the other— hands shoved in his pockets. his eyes are half lidded, an annoyed but fuming expression obvious on his face.

you lock eye contact— again. he chuckles to himself— like some weird maniac. you can see his tongue poking at his cheek, and you know he only does that when he’s angry.

you feel content and stare back at baek kyon, mirroring his smile.

“what the fuck was that?” yunjin who sits infront of you turned around, shocked but a smile compliments her face.

you giggle, “the love of my life.” you hope yeonjun overhears you since he doesn’t sit so far away.

she raises her eyebrows before turning back around, giggling to herself.

the class ends pretty quickly, and finally break is here. everyone scrambles around— leaving the classroom, moving to their friends..

while you walk over to baek kyon, a mischievous giggle leaving your lips when he shoos his seat partner away so that you can sit by him.

his friends surround you both, asking millions of questions— spinning your head.

“guys stop. you’re giving her a headache.” baek kyon cooed jokingly, grabbing your cheeks and squishing them.

your eyes twitches in genuine annoyance, making him laugh but he doesn’t stop touching your face.

“oh my gosh this is evil and gross. i’m out of here.” one of his friends say and the others agree, walking out of the classroom all together.

he finally lets go of your face, and you watch as his eyes move over to where you recognize. he doesn’t look away from yeonjun as he leans closer to you, whispering by your ear, “laugh.”

you do what he said and giggle, slapping his shoulder teasingly.

this was humbling, but if it’d get yeonjun’s attention you’d do it any day. you enjoyed the glares he sent throughout the class. sure you were “dating” his rival and maybe that was why he was mad but the small chance of him being jealous has you desperate.

baek kyon’s arm stretches to your chair, leaning his arm on it while he started to talk about the most stupidest things in a quiet tone.

you nod along, gasp, and smile at some of his pointless words.

eventually, you get caught up with what he’s saying— forgetting to react in an exaggerated way.

he’s forgotten about it too, judging by the way he’s explaining it to you now— voice no longer timid to stay mysterious.

“and the guy almost bumped into me!” he scoffs, his arms flying around to keep up with his words.

“actually?” you can’t help but let out a genuine laugh at his reaction to his story.

break ends right after, and class just zoomed by today— unlike yesterday, when 7 hours felt like 7 months.

as you’re walking downstairs to go home, you come across yeonjun, again.

this time he’s alone, not surrounded by girls.

this time he’s looking at you— just you.

you avert your eyes away, picking up the pace, almost jogging at this rate outside of school.

you’re not sure if he’s behind you, or if he’s still in that same spot— but now you feel much more comfortable in the open.

much to your dismay, you’re stopped dead in your tracks when a hand grips your shoulder, pulling you back.

couldn’t he wait until you had at least left the school gates?

with a huff, you turn around, shrugging his hand off.

yeonjun who always held a carefree look to his face was now the opposite, bothered and rough.

“yes?..” you mumble, awkward.

your heart is leaping through miles, eyes scrambling to find a view to set your vision.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

he’s so clearly annoyed with that tone lingering in his words. he’s got a frown on his pretty face and a mean look in his eyes.

“what? i’m going home,” you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“are you dumb? you know what i’m talking about.”

“yeah i do. but it’s really not your business.”

you gaze at him through your lashes, feeling a odd sense of satisfaction at his bothered expression and faltered confidence.

“can you stop slutting around for once? can’t you stay single for one fucking day?”

your satisfaction died faster than it had came— and now all you felt was anger.

“me? slutting around? for real?” you laugh, though your hands are fisted into balls and you feel your face getting warm from the overwhelming rage.

“why? is that too far fetched for you?” he raises his eyebrows, a mockish and cocky smirk painting his sun kissed face.

he’s back to his confident self again, and you’re sure it’s because you’re giving him what he wants by showing your emotions.

so you sigh, trying to look as care free as you possibly can, “think what you want.”

you turn your back on him once again— and this time he lets you leave the gates.

you hope he’ll grab you again— hope he’ll say something that’ll change the situation.

but instead you hear his voice behind you, and another girls.

he’s already talking to somebody else and not even ten seconds had passed since you had walked away.

maybe this time it was different.

maybe it really was over for you two.

—

a month has passed since you last talked to your best friend, choi yeonjun.

in present time you surround yourself with new people, baek kyon and his friends.

it’s much easier this way for you, to be around someone you don’t truly care about. no one in this group you’re sitting with can harm you because you think little of them.

however that comes with a hefty price, to not get hurt meant to not have genuine fun.

your eyes occasionally drift over to yeonjun who seems to be doing much better than you are.

he’s comfortable on his seat, laughing to whatever beomgyu just said.

“don’t look over.” baek kyon mumbles, his hand grabbing your chin, tilting your head back to him.

“look at me. don’t look at him.”

it’s getting exhausting now. the way he’s always ordering you to not look at yeonjun.

you deadpan and pull your head away, scoffing, “i’ve told you not to cross the line.”

you make it so that only he can hear what you’re saying, but with the rolling of your eyes and grimace on your face no one needs to hear anything to know you’re upset.

“yeah well you’ve also told me he’d care if i dated you. he doesn’t.”

“then we should stop whatever this is.”

“if you want to then go ahead. i’m just worried you’ll have nobody once you leave me.”

you turn to look at him, dumbfounded.

“do you like me, baek kyon?”

you catch the crack in his mask once your words reach him. he’s taken aback, a little displeased, hurt, all of that for a second before he goes back to his normal, unfazed, self.

“are you crazy?”

“no right? so stop acting like you do. it’s weird.” you shake your head in disapproval.

“whatever.”

the class ticks by and finally break has come. unlike yesterday and the many days before, you decide to leave the classroom and take a breather.

you’re in the washroom downstairs, the one nobody uses because of a rumour of some ghost haunting it’s walls.

you’re sat on the sink, hugging your legs, phone in one hand and lipstick in the other.

you’re a little too busy ranting to your online friend you don’t realize the intense presence of yeonjun until he calls your name.

you avert your eyes up to look at yeonjun who’s presently propped himself up against the wall by a stall. he’s staring at you as if youre a new colour he’s never seen.

such an odd and unreadable expression contours his face, making you frown.

“yes?” your voice is shaky, uneasy and untrusting.

“having fun with your boyfriend?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, folding his arms.

“he’s not my boyfriend.” you mumble, averting your eyes back to your phone.

“yeah i guessed so. a little birdie told me something interesting about you two.”

your stomach sinks to the floor. immediately you can feel the blood rush to your head in embarrassment to what you’re assuming this is about.

even if you do try and keep your composure, your red cheeks and splitting eyes is easily read by yeonjun who grows more confident than he already was.

“so it is true?” he raises his eyebrows and drops his hands to his sides, taking a step closer, another step, until he’s infront of you, leaning against the sink.

“who told you?”

“honestly a wild guess.” he shrugs ever so casually.

“yeah well i actually fell for him.” you try and look shy about it, act all innocent and truthful.

“oh really? ‘s that why you’re here instead of rubbing yourself all over him?”

“what a girl can’t get a break? my heart can’t handle him. is that your business?” you laugh mockishly in his face and hope it’s enough to get him to believe you.

but you’re so clearly wrong. you know you are when he’s looking more haunting than before.

“i can see right through you. you’re a bad liar when it comes to me.”

he’s staring at you dead in the eye, so serious it makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry.

you hate when he stares at you like this. when he stares at you as if you’re a wall, his expression so blank and emotionless.

so you let out a defeated exasperated sigh, “okay. so what? does it matter to you? you’re so caught up talking to other girls. you’re the one that didn’t talk to me first.”

you only tell him this with the hope that this would help you guys reconcile.

he deadpans, “i didn’t talk to you once and you think it’s the end of the world? fuck y/n i didn’t know you were so petty. you’re so childish.”

every ounce of need to befriend him again disappeared. you stared at him, half shocked, half hurt.

“whatever yeonjun.” you mumble and jump off of the sink, attempting to walk past him but a firm hand grips your shoulder.

you almost cry out of relieve that he’s grabbed you. you don’t know how much longer you can go without talking to him.

“don’t walk away from me. i’m not done.”

you turn around, “then hurry up. baek kyon’s waiting for me.”

“you don’t have to fake your relationship with him anymore. i already know.”

“we’re still friends. plus i think he might actually like me, and i don’t mind the attention.” you shrug, making it a point to make it look like you were getting ready to exit out the room.

“you’re so fucking annoying! fuck.” he snaps, hands dropping to his sides.

he takes steps closer to you and in the blink of an eye he’s looking down at you— sending a sharpe glare that has you backing up a few steps.

“can you be logical? why are you acting like this?” you huff.

you’re intimidated— scared almost. even as friends, you always sensed his intensity, but now? now you understood why some people went out of their way to avoid his gaze.

“acting like what?”

you roll your eyes, “you’re acting like i’m an object that belongs to you. you’re not even making any sense right now.”

“okay?” he laughs, annoyed. another step, and another, until your back hits the wall.

you stare at him through your lashes, eyebrows furrowed but your eyes are glued onto his.

“so what if i’m not?” he continues, tilting his head, “are you not mine? everything you’ve done until now is for me, you did this for my reaction— so don’t act like you’re not enjoying it.”

his words has you stumbling and struggling to bite back a witty comment— but it’s true. and since it’s true there’s nothing you can do but to stretch your arms out and push him away to finally give your heart a break.

“yeah but i didn’t think baek kyon would actually be a good person.. i like him even as friend. maybe more than i’ve ever liked you.”

you stare at him from the corner of your eye as you’re leaving to grab the door handle, heart stinging at your own awful lie.

you don’t catch the hurt flashing his face with your back turned, opening the door—

“do you mean that?”

“i don’t know. but he doesn’t abandon me for girls.” you start, for the second time turning to look at him again— ignoring the pain so obvious in his demeanour, “he doesn’t talk to me only when he has something to gain from it.”

“is that what you think?”

“are you that dense to realize it’s true?”

before he can say anything else— the bell rings, indicating that break was over.

yeonjun says nothing and walks over to you, grabbing your wrist tightly and pulling open the door, dragging you out.

the hallways are empty— and for your own pride you want to tell him to let go, to stop bothering you but you silently let him drag you to the parking lot and shove you inside of his car.

he hastily gets in the driver seat, shoving his car key inside the hole and starting the car— ignoring the painful and awkward silence.

“where are we going?” you sigh, leaning your head back onto the headrest.

the seat is reclined in an angle you don’t like— and the headrest is a bit too high for your head.

it’s all adjusted to fit another girls body, not yours.

he ignores you, eyes trained on the road, one hand gripping on the steering wheel while the other rests on his knee.

“yeonjun where are we going?” you repeat, frustrated. you look at him— stunned to see the changed look on his face.

it’s different from before.

now you can clearly read the sadness in his face, and that’s just enough to make you turn back to the road and stay silent.

he finally parks his car at a parking spot nearby an outdoor pool— a place you both loved during the hot summers.

the trees are shadowing the car just enough, blocking the sunlight.

“you’re so stupid y/n. i like you. all the other girls don’t matter to me.”

he keeps his head straight and doesn’t look at you.

but you’re looking at him as if he’s said the most bizzare thing ever.

“what?”

“i said i like you.” he repeats, more stern and clear.

he turns to you, annoyed, “don’t you realize the pattern? i date those girls everytime you talk about a new crush you want. i do that because i can’t stand hearing that. i don’t want to be near you just to hear talk about how some guy called you cute, or pretty, or whatever.”

you’re absolutely in denial hearing him say that. a part of you even thinks maybe this is a prank but the sincerity in his voice and the desperation in his face screams otherwise.

your heart skips a beat and now you feel stupid for ignoring everyone’s teasing telling you he liked you.

“i don’t know what to say..” you mumble, dumbfounded.

“tell me you like me back.”

“how do you know if i even like you that way?” you tease him, a giddy smile on your face.

“cus you’re blushing right now.”

“i don’t like you.” you mumble.

“really?” he raises his eyebrows, clearly unbelieving.

“yes. i hate you matter of fact. can’t stand you.” you continue, folding your arms and rolling your eyes.

“say that again. a bit louder this time.” he tests.

“i like you.”

“yeah. that’s what i thought.”

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

Slatekit was worried about Fogkit. Since the day of the funeral, her sister only left the den once or twice a day for sanitary breaks and stayed in her nest most of the time, staring at the wall. Slatekit had started bringing her meals for fear she would starve if she didn’t. Fogkit said “thanks” and picked at the meal and usually turned away halfway through, saying “I’m not that hungry.” Slatekit had tried to convince her to finish once and she had whipped around with a “I said I’m not that hungry, okay?!” and a burning glare. Slatekit hadn’t pushed her after that. 

Instead, she had tried to find ways to busy herself around camp. Sitting in the den with Fogkit and no one else, the den seemed to loom darkly around her, threatening to swallow her whole. She didn’t want to stay there anymore. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and Fogkit’s periodic sighs. 

So she’d taken to helping with the chores around camp - checking the prey pile for crowfood, fixing up the nests and carrying away the used bedding, that sort of thing. She’d even asked Oddstripe if he had any jobs he needed help with and he’d taught her how to search for ticks and fleas. It was a bit early in the season but he had her check some of the warriors, just in case. Thankfully, she found nothing. 

She liked helping. It made her feel like she was like her mama and it made the other thoughts quiet down for a while. She couldn’t stop worrying about Fogkit though. It seemed like other cats were worried too which did nothing to reassure her own worries. They tried not to talk about their worries around her, though. She didn’t know how she felt about that. 

One day, while Slatekit was plucking feathers from the prey pile to put in peoples’ nests, Goldenstar approached her with a cat she’d never seen before. The stranger was a pretty, tortoiseshell she-cat, all speckles and spots. She smelled very different from the kittypet in camp, like greenery and rotting undergrowth. She smiled as she saw Slatekit and Slatekit couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Hey, Slatekit,” Goldenstar said brightly, “I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Poppybird, FallenClan’s mediator.” 

“Hi,” said Slatekit shyly. 

“Hello, Slatekit,” purred Poppybird, her voice warm and smooth. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m helping pick out feathers for everyone’s bedding,” she said. 

“That’s very kind of you,” said Poppybird. Slatekit smiled, puffing up with a little pride. 

Goldenstar was smiling too. “Poppybird was a friend of your mom’s and she wanted to come spend the day with you and Fogkit.”

“Really?” Slatekit’s eyes widened. She really wanted to spend time with them? She’d never even met them. 

“Mhm,” nodded Poppybird. “I thought maybe we could go on a little adventure together.” 

“O-okay,” Slatekit said, standing from her work, “but, um, Fogkit might not want to come. She’s been grumpy lately.” 

“She has?” Poppybird asked. “How so?”

“Um…” Slatekit glanced over at the nursery where she knew Fogkit was probably sleeping or staring at the wall. “Well she doesn’t like to get out of her nest anymore. And she bit me.” 

“She bit you?” Poppybird’s face softened sympathetically. “Do you know why?” 

“Um… She said that the effigy was stupid and then started ruining the flowers so I tried to push her away and then she bit me. It really hurt.” She gave a few licks to the paw that had been bitten as she thought about it. 

“That must have been really upsetting,” said Poppybird gently. Slatekit nodded. “I’m sorry that Fogkit’s grieving hurt you, Slatekit.” 

“It’s alright,” Slatekit mumbled, looking down. “I still love her anyway.” 

“That’s good,” smiled Poppybird. “She’s lucky to have such a loving sister.” Slatekit blushed, shuffling her paws. She didn’t know what to say to that but it made her feel fuzzy inside. 

“Why don’t you guys go get Fogkit,” Goldenstar said. “I’ll make sure these feathers get where they’re going.” 

“Okay,” Slatekit nodded.

“Walk with me, won’t you?” Poppybird invited, stretching her tail out to her. Slatekit nodded and curled her tail with the mediator’s and started towards the nursery. She stopped in the entrance though, a sudden hesitance seeping into her as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Fogkit was curled in the corner of the nest, staring at the wall with a bored and weary expression. Slatekit was grateful that Poppybird stepped up to talk first. 

“Fogkit?” 

Fogkit sat up, frowning, and squinted at them. “Who are you?” She sounded angry. Slatekit’s tail fell to the ground. 

“My name is Poppybird,” the adult seemed unphased, her voice still warm and gentle. “I was a friend of your mother’s.” 

“So?” said Fogkit.

“With Goldenstar’s permission, I wanted to take you both out on a little adventure today, have some fun together. I was thinking we could go down to the river, what do you think?” Slatekit held her breath hoping her sister said yes. Going to the river sounded like a really fun adventure and she didn’t want to go alone. 

Fogkit shifted in the nest. “I dunno…”

“You don’t have to come,” Poppybird said, “but I’m going and if Slatekit wants to go she’s welcome to come. You can even come along and then, if you decide you’re done, you can come right back.” She took a step back to leave the den entrance wide open. Fogkit pulled her paws underneath her, hips shifting like she was about to start hunting. Her brows were still pinched together angrily but there was something else in her expression, something that said ‘wait for me!’

“Okay,” Fogkit said after a moment of chewing on the thought. She stood up and padded towards them slowly. Slatekit smiled despite the worry that Fogkit’s slightly matted, ungroomed fur was stirring in her. Poppybird seemed to have no reaction to the kit’s disheveled appearance. 

“Do you need to eat or anything before we go?” asked the mediator, watching them as Fogkit stepped out into the daylight, squinting harshly in the afternoon light. 

“No,” said Fogkit, “I’m not hungry.” 

“Okay,” smiled Poppybird. “Then there’s only one thing we have to do before we go. Goldenstar said we have to take someone with us to keep us safe. Who do you think we should bring?” 

“Ospreymask is nice,” Slatekit said.

“No,” Fogkit said immediately. “Not Ospreymask.” 

“Why not?” Slatekit asked, ears pressed back. 

“Cause!” Fogkit hissed. She dropped her gaze, pouting at the dirt. “I don’t like her anymore.” Slatekit frowned in despair. Why? What had Ospreymask done? She was afraid too ask.

“That’s alright,” Poppybird said gently, laying her tail over Slatekit’s back. “Who do you think would be fun to bring along, Fogkit?” 

Fogkit chewed her cheek for a moment before she said, “Floodpaw.” Slatekit was baffled by that. Floodpaw hated them! Or at least, he hated hanging out with them. She didn’t want to say anything though, in case Fogkit got angry again. 

Poppybird asked, “Does that sound okay to you, Slatekit?” Slatekit wasn’t sure. She shuffled her paws and shrugged. “You don’t know?” She nodded. “Is there any reason why bringing Floodpaw would be bad?” Slatekit considered it. Probably not, especially with Poppybird there.

“I guess not.” 

“Okay, would it be alright if we invited him then?” Poppybird’s smile set her at ease.

“Yeah, okay,” she nodded again. 

“Great,” said Poppybird. 

A few moments later, they were heading out of camp, Floodpaw following behind them begrudgingly. Slatekit still didn’t understand why Fogkit had invited him but at least it seemed like he wasn’t going to say anything mean to them. As they ventured out into the grass, Slatekit remembered their snake encounter with a little gasp.

“Oh! Um, it’s good that we brought Floodpaw with us,” she said. 

“Why’s that?” Poppybird tilted her head with interest. 

“Cause,” started Slatekit, “cause, um, last time-” 

“Last time we saw a snake,” Fogkit blurted. Slatekit nodded. 

“Wow!” Poppybird gasped, “What happened?” Floodpaw rolled his eyes.

“Bar- um, Barleypaw killed it,” Slatekit said excitedly. 

“Yeah, she smacked it until it died,” Fogkit whispered conspiratorially. 

“That must have been very exciting,” marveled Poppybird. 

“Yeah,” said Fogkit, sounding tired again. “I never got to tell mom the snake story.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Poppybird said, her voice soft. “I bet she would have liked it.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Fogkit glared up at her. “How would you know?” Slatekit held her breath as best she could while walking. Please don’t start yelling, please don’t start yelling. She didn’t want Fogkit to get held back from becoming an apprentice. She didn’t want to have her ceremony all alone!

Poppybird didn’t seem to react at all. “I did the same job as your mother and we talked often. She was a friend of mine.” 

“She never mentioned you,” Fogkit huffed boldly. 

“She mentioned you,” said Poppybird. 

“Really?” Fogkit blinked in surprise. 

“Mhm,” nodded Poppybird. “She was so proud of you two. She told me all about your stories and adventures. I’m really glad I finally got to meet you.” 

“Me too,” Slatekit said. Knowing one of her mama’s friends made her feel all light and cozy. Fogkit frowned and looked down at the ground. 

They walked for what felt like a really long time. Poppybird told them the stories she’d heard about them and answered their questions about FallenClan - it was in a deep forest and the camp was surrounded by brambles and they ate mostly the same stuff but not rabbits and sometimes frogs and there were two kits named Lionkit and Wishkit and they weren’t related - and by the time they reached the river, Fogkit seemed to be mostly back to normal. She was a little quieter than usual and her fur was still matted and dirty but she was smiling and asking questions and Slatekit couldn’t help but follow suit. 

“Look at it!” Fogkit cried at the sight of the river. It stretched out before them, at least three fox-lengths across, shining in the sunlight as it rushed noisily over the stones of the riverbed. Slatekit gasped excitedly. 

“Okay,” said Poppybird, “There’s a few rules to keep us safe that you need to know. Never go deeper than your belly and be careful where you put your paws to make sure you don’t slip. Got it?” 

“Got it!” the girls chorused brightly. Floodpaw sighed and sat down, looking away. 

Poppybird looked at him and said, “Feel free to have some fun too, Floodpaw. Do whatever you want to do, all I need is for you to be ready if something dangerous happens.” 

“Really?” he perked his ears a little. 

“Really,” she nodded with a smile and he brightened significantly. Back on his paws, he started down towards the river. 

Fogkit took off running, shouting, “I bet I can beat you there, Floodpaw!” 

“Huh?” he paused out of surprise then frowned as he realized she was nearing the water pretty quickly. “No way!” Taking off across the pebbles, he sprinted after her. Thanks to his long legs, he made it into the shallows a good body-length ahead of her and she cried out in disappointment. 

“No fair! You’ve got longer legs!” 

“You’re the one who started the bet!” he laughed, splashing her with a pawful of water. Fogkit shrieked and puffed up to twice her size, tumbling back. 

“It’s cold!” she cried. 

“It’s not that cold,” Floodpaw rolled his eyes and lowered himself down to crouch in the shallow water so that it came up to his shoulders. 

“He’s in too deep!” Slatekit cried but Poppybird shook her head. 

“No, he’s alright. As long as you can stand up and it only touches your belly, you’re not too deep.” 

“Oh, okay,” Slatekit relaxed. She ventured up to the edge of the water cautiously. Fogkit was playing with her reflection in the water while Floodpaw stretched himself out on his belly until his head was the only thing above the water. Slatekit carefully stepped into the water then reeled back with a squeak of discomfort. 

“Ah!” she cried, “I don’t like it!”

“That’s okay,” said Poppybird, coming up behind them. “You don’t have to touch it.” 

“I wanna swim like Floodpaw!” Fogkit declared. He snorted to himself. 

“Okay,” Poppybird said, “just remember the rules. Floodpaw, do make sure she doesn’t drown, yes?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, twitching his ear against the river bugs starting to cloud near his face. 

Satisfied, Poppybird twined her tail with Slatekit’s and said, “There are lots of interesting bugs by the river. Why don’t we walk down the bank and look for some?” 

“O-okay,” Slatekit nodded. They padded off down the river, leaving the splash radius just in time for Fogkit to leap straight onto Floodpaw’s back, sending water flying in all directions. 

“Hey!” he snapped, and Slatekit glanced back worriedly. He reached up and shoved Fogkit into the river face first. 

Slatekit’s stomach flipped in fright and she stopped in her tracks, but then Fogkit burst out of the water squealing in delight and cried, “Again!” so she tried to relax a little. 

“She’s alright,” Poppybird said.

“I know,” Slatekit said, convincing herself as she said it. “I just don’t like to play rough like that.” She started walking again, eyes searching the pebbled shore for the bugs that had been mentioned.

“That’s okay,” Poppybird said. “Everyone is different. Some people don’t like to play rough and some people do and that is completely fine as long as they show consideration for how the other person wants to play.” 

“Yeah,” Slatekit nodded. She liked how Poppybird talked. It reminded her of her mama. 

“Fogkit and you are pretty different, huh?” asked Poppybird. 

“Yeah.”

“Can you tell me some ways you’re different?” 

Slatekit hummed thoughtfully. “She’s loud but I’m just quiet.”

“Oh, yes,” Poppybird smiled. “I bet it’s nice to have someone loud to help you when you’re quiet.” 

“Yeah,” nodded Slatekit again. “She says the stuff I don’t wanna say. Although sometimes she says mean stuff too.” 

“Like with the effigy?” 

“Mhm.” Slatekit frowned a little and paused to roll some stones out of place to look underneath them. 

“What kind of stuff did she say?” 

Slatekit’s voice was very soft when she spoke. “That it was stupid ‘cause it was just wood… And that it was, um, bee-brained to pretend it was mama. Oddstripe said pretending helps you feel better but Fogkit said that was dumb.” 

“Mm,” Poppybird hummed in understanding. “How did that make you feel?” 

“Sad…” said Slatekit. “I liked the effigy.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it made me feel less lonely about it.” She rolled one of the rounder pebbles under her paw, back and forth. The smooth texture was nice on her paw pad.

Poppybird smiled. “I’m glad that it did. It can be really lonely to lose someone you love. It’s good to find things that make you feel less lonely.” 

“But Fogkit hated it,” Slatekit said. “I don’t understand why she was so angry.” 

“You and Fogkit are very different,” restated Poppybird. “When she gets lonely because she misses your mother, it makes her angry. I haven’t spoken to her yet but I know other cats who are the same and it can be really hard not to get angry when they get that sad.”

“Why though?” Slatekit looked up at her. “I don’t get angry, I just get sad.” 

“It might be because it feels unfair,” said Poppybird, “or because being angry feels less powerless than just being sad. But sometimes there isn’t a reason. You can’t control the way you feel and sometimes being sad makes people angry, that’s that.” 

Slatekit hummed and rolled the pebble under her paw. She looked back over her shoulder at her sister who was cackling between gulps of air as Floodpaw repeatedly shoved her head under the water, smiling madly. She didn’t understand Fogkit at all. But Fogkit was happy and that was good. 

She looked up at Poppybird again and asked, “What do I do if she gets sad again? She spent a long time in the den not talking to anybody. It’s scary, honestly.” 

“Just have patience,” Poppybird smiled. “She’ll feel better eventually. All you have to do is wait and keep showing her you love her. If you can, it wouldn’t hurt if you could get her to come out and play with you sometimes. It’s good for her to get some sun and move her body.” 

“Okay,” Slatekit said determinedly. “I can do that.” 

“That’s great,” Poppybird said. 

After that, they went bug hunting in earnest. They found a worm but nothing else of note and Poppybird explained that it was probably too early for bugs like damselflies. Slatekit carried the worm back to a drenched Fogkit and they both took the worm in their mouths from either end and tore it in half, Fogkit cheering when she came away with the bigger half. Slatekit was just glad to see her sister smiling again. 

They all laid down on the bank to sun themselves until Fogkit and Floodpaw were dry and then they went home. Poppybird stayed for dinner and, afterwards, Slatekit went to play with Ospreymask so Poppybird and Fogkit could talk by themselves. When it was finally time to settle down, long after dark, Slatekit made sure to tell Poppybird goodnight before she and Fogkit went to bed. 

“Today was fun,” Fogkit said as they shared tongues in their nest. 

“Yeah!” purred Slatekit. “I’m glad you came to the river with us.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Fogkit. “I wish you wanted to swim though.” 

“Maybe next time,” Slatekit said, although she very much doubted that.

“When we’re apprentices, we’ll go swimming whenever we want!” Fogkit said. Slatekit grinned and bumped her head against Fogkit’s as the purr overtook her. 

“I love you, Fogkit,” she said. 

“I love you too,” said Fogkit and Slatekit felt the happiest she had in weeks.

[thedivineflowers]

hi!!! Love you works they’re so silly and good😜but sad😔 anyway I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to ask for when the boys (idk how many you’ll take but I think if you need a limited amount go with the first years😭) but yea when the boys say something plain ass bitchy and mean to middleschool!reader, like how were magic-less useless kid (looking at you Ace😡) saying some shit about our family or babying us too much till it become insufferable or smth and then when we get rightfully upset and cry or get upset (leaning on crying for more drama, angst and guilt😘) they realize how bad they fucked up and apologize, I feel like we would be a little stubborn about the apology depended on who it is to😭 but yea my goofy ahh request take your time and you can switch up the characters it’s your writing I don’t care! Love you works<333

YEHAHAHAHAHAH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM AND I LIKE DONT REALLY HAVE A LIMIT UNLESS I COULDNT REALLY THINK OF SOMETHING SO EYEYEYEY

OKAY IMA ETART IM SOMEZCIYED

I ONLY DID THE FIRST YEARS BECAUSE IT WAS GONNA TAKE SOME TIME AND I DIDNT WANT TO KEEP YOU WAITING SO HERE 😆

Ace: he’d always tease you. And during the first few weeks when he was warming up to you he’d diss you by saying that you were nothing without magic. He even referred to you as the useless and magicless kid for some time. Even after months he still referred to you as that and one day you just bursted. “Why can’t you shut up about me being magicless?! I know I’m at a disadvantage but I’m tired of it! The jokes dead now why can’t you get it!? If I could I’d just make a portal by myself to go back to my world so I don’t have to listen to you all damn day but guess what?! Im just some useless and magicless kid!!” You shouted at tears ran down your face. You stormed away and he tried running after you but you quickly maneuvered away from him. Because of his pride he didn’t apologize for days and stayed quiet when around you. One day after he was given a reality check by Deuce he apologized because guilt was really eating away at him. You still avoided him for a bit just to make sure but your friendship came back together.

Deuce: he kinda has a temper (to me he does) and he’ll let it out sometimes making him call you shit like Ace. But because he is trying to be a good student (and a good friend) he’d be very quiet if he’d call you things but you always manage to him whisper it to himself. One day you two were alone in the classroom doing detention because you two got into a fight when a guy mocked you. “Hey, Deuce.” You called him with an empty tone. “Do you really wish that I had magic. That I had someone to look after me so you didn’t have to stick around me all the time?” You asked as you eyes were glued to the table in front of you. Barely managing to answer the first question on your math homework. “I see how you look at me when I mess something up because I lack magic. I just wanna know.” You said as there was a pressure on your throat. Like you wanted to throw up and let out a yell at the same time. His answer only made the pressure worse as your breathing became short. Did he really think that it’d been better if the magic mirror didn’t pick you? That you’d only stay as the schools janitor? You quickly walked out leaving everything behind to go to the teachers bathroom that you had access to. Everyone thought the same thing about you so why were you throwing up in the sink and crying your eyes out? Because you thought of him as different? No. Deuce came to your dorm later that evening with your completed math homework and backpack. He sighed before apologizing about what he said earlier and the things he’s called you. After some talking your friendship was alright but with rockiness

Jack: At first because you were obviously magicless he’d be very overbearing to you when it comes to things like flying your broom three feet off the ground. He’d chastise you when you used simple spells by waking you up the morning and running with him. He’s trying to protect you but it seems that he underestimates what you know you can and can’t do. You’d get frustrated and try to express that you didn’t need to be babied but the words would just stay stuck in your throat because you knew that he was just trying to look after you. “I can do this Jack! You need to stop worrying about me with small things like having the damn ladle stir itself in the pot! I’m not gonna get hurt with it and I know you’re looking after me but you’re making me uneasy like I could die from just touching a book about small spells! You’ve seen me fly a broom around and be perfectly fine in Mr. Crewels class so what is it that makes you think that I need you breathing down my neck all the time?! Is it because I’m magicless and from another world? Is it because I’m still a kid?” You bubbles over and spewed at him one day while you were making yourself dinner. Jack stood there as he awkwardly looked to the side trying to find an excuse. “I-“ “Im not as fragile as you think. If I was I would’ve been dead.” He’d been contemplating how much magic you could handle and he knows you know that he’s watching over you but he doesn’t know that it was getting overwhelming for you. He avoided you for a bit before apologizing and admitting that he had protected you because he feared you were weak because you were still a kid. You nodded in understanding and forgave him.

Epel: he had a small ego boost because he heard that you were magicless and a child who still knew nothing. He’d also heard Vil chatting away about you and saying mean things even when you were around. So he thought that you wouldn’t mind if he did too. You tried getting along with him at one point but he just pushed you away. “Is there something wrong with me that makes you stay away from me? I know that Im nothing like you but I’m trying to make an effort to get along with you!” You cornered him one day in the hall with small tears about to well over. He had almost nothing to say but a small peep “Does me being magicless and from another world disgust you? If it does then just say it already so I can leave you the hell alone and stop wasting my time trying to make an effort!” You demanded “I- no, not at all! I just…” He cleared his throat away of his country accent. “I thought that a kid like you couldn’t go through so many things and not have anything to hold onto yourself, ‘thought it was silly and that everyone and you were bluffin’ so I pushed you away because I thought you were way over yourself before I even got the chance to talk you properly…” he trailed off as you wiped your eyes and looked at him in understanding. Over time you both tried holding conversations to get to know each other and get warmed up so the same mistake doesn’t happen again. (It is hot in my damn room help 😭)

(The ones from diasomnia don’t really know you here)

Sebek 😈: He’d always talk about it was ‘impossible for a child with nothing to their name’ to even do anything in a world where they didn’t belong when he wasn’t stuffing his mouth with praises for Malleus. How ‘Their parents clearly made a mistake in raising them’ because you couldn’t cast a spell in class without needing help or looking at the instructions again. He’d even insult you in front of Malleus when you do someone like walk past their table “That child has no grace when they walk! Even in the presence of my lord himself! Utterly disgusting!” He’d say and the other three wouldn’t really respond because they hardly know you. One day Mr. Crewel had you two paired in a project so you two went to a secluded place to start (I mean he walked away while you followed after him.). “For the hundredth time that species will poison you! Can’t you understand?! Sevens I don’t know how you’re alive when you can’t even memorize stuff like this.” He muttered as he pinched the space between his eyes. You then slammed your fists in the table with tears of Frustration boiling up. “Can’t you understand that I can’t get a grasp of things here?! I’m only (age) and I’m in the (grade) grade! No sebek I cant understand anything because I’m not from here! I’m not supposed to be here making spells or talking to you because I’m supposed to be in a world where I get shut out like you have done to me because of shit like this! I don’t have an identity but only my face as proof of my existence! I don’t care about this project anymore you can blame me all you want I’m leaving.” You concluded before shoving papers in your bag and hastily walking away before he could even speak. After he had complained of what you said to him to Lilia he suggested that he look at it from your view and apologize. So he did. Which earned him nothing more than a smack on the face and a door to his nose. It’s up to you if you forgive him.