#anyway. who all is excited for swiftli week bc i sure am!!!

[happi-tree]

Happy Wip Wednesday! Swiftli Week is less than a week away (ack!!!)

This is a little sneak peek for March 4th's prompt (Angel + Demon / Hot + Cold / Fantasy AU), which it takes place in the same universe as (i will) stay for you ⚔️👑 Looks like there might be some,,, knight terrors,,, in this one.

Plain text under the cut!

Slowly, gently, he brings his hand from Lincoln’s shoulder and up the side of his neck, tilting his face in his palm to force their eyes to meet.

“You’re alright,” Taylor repeats, more firmly. “You are safe.” Then, hedging a guess, “I am safe. I’m right here, I’m not leaving.”

It takes a moment for Lincoln to make sense of what he sees, but in the space of a few heartbeats, his eyes focus upon him, and something within him seems to snap.

“You’re real?” He asks, voice hoarse and wrecked and near-childlike, and heat builds at the corners of Taylor’s eyes.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, Link, I’m real, I’m here, you’re with me. No ill has befallen me.”

Link’s hand rises toward Taylor, outstretched, and wavers mere inches from his face, its fingers trembling something fierce.

Taylor takes it in his grasp, brings it gently to rest upon the side of his own face, and feels he may cry at the sound of his knight’s relieved sigh.

“Oh, my sweet prince,” Lincoln murmurs, voice and hand shaking in equal fervor as his calloused thumb strokes weakly along his cheek. “I thought - I thought I lost -”

Taylor lets the tears fall.

“You haven’t,” he replies. “You won’t. Not ever.”

“You - you know you cannot promise me that,” Lincoln says, and even with the syllables stretched out between sniffles, the notion is every bit as infuriatingly Lincoln as it always has been.

[lonelyreputation]

Caught

A/N:  Hello hello! Here’s some (more) fluff!! Who am I? But anyway, I wrote this from this sensory request and it was actually the first request I GOT ON THIS BLOG (!!!) so I'm so sorry that it’s coming so late!! But I’ll always remember this request bc it was the first🥺 

Anywaayyyy thank you all so much for reading, sending me the nicest messages, reblog-ing, and requesting prompts!! I get so much motivation from you all it’s insane!! Thank you!! I appreciate every single one of you!!

PROMPT: Licking your fingers while eating Cheetos

Chat Chat Chat | MASTERLIST

Warnings: One (1) swear word & a bit of a heated make out session😶

Word Count: 3.9K

Being a twenty-year-old and playing sold out shows in stadiums around the world was abnormal.  But what was more abnormal was that the twenty-year-old who spent most of his time on a tour bus than in his own apartment was your boyfriend.  Not many people could say that their boyfriend was in Amsterdam one day and then Paris the next.  

Shawn had spent spring in Europe on a tourbus and hotel rooms, and his summer wasn’t much different, except for the fact that he was on his North American leg of the tour.  He had convinced you to come traveling across America; it was more in your budget and convenient with your university schedule.

Every now and then, Shawn would have some down time, but it wasn’t very often.  He kept apologizing whenever he was pulled away and promised to spend time with you more.  But you didn’t mind.  Shawn had given you a front seat to his career and everything it entails.  And it was fascinating.  You would be in one city and everyone would already be advancing for a show that was two weeks away.  The precision and detail of obscure jobs that some crew had gone over your head in the past, but seeing all the mechanics of everything that goes on for the show to happen…it made you appreciate Shawn’s performances even more.

You had gotten fairly close with Shawn’s head of tour merchandiser, Dane, and often found yourself helping him set up the merchandise stands when Shawn was off at a meet and greet, sound check, or wherever Andrew had pulled him away to.  

“Are you playing in the little soccer match they have going on later today?” You asked Dane as you carried over a large brown cardboard box. 

He held up a finger to you as he finished up his count in of tour posters and typed it on a tour merchandise app on his phone, “Yeah, you?”

You shook your head as you used a key to tear through the sealed box.  Once the tape that held the box together was ripped, you opened the four flaps and saw that you were counting in some sweatshirts.  Silently, you counted ten sweatshirts, put them in a pile on the side with a sticky note on top with a number ten circled and then counted out another ten sweatshirts. 

“I’ve never been good with hand eye coordination,” you didn’t look up at him as you continued to count ten sweatshirts, “I’ve always been better at cheering people on from the sides.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.”

You had just finished circling a ten on a neon green sticky note as you capped the sharpie and looked at Dane, “You’ve noticed?”

Dane nodded with a smile on his face as he hung up a piece of paper with a blown up image of a keychain; he stuck a large sticker with the price of the keychain on the corner of the paper.  He hung it up on the black tapestry so that way fans would be able to see it before they got up to the front of the merchandise line.

“You’re always there for Shawn when he walks on and off stage.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to the bathroom when he’s performing.”

You blushed as you finished counting the last of the sweatshirts in the box you carried in, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“He loves it,” Dane took a t-shirt and clipped the sleeves of it to the top of the tapestry, “The week before you came he literally wouldn’t shut up––Y/n’s coming next week, did you know?  I just love her so much!  I miss her so much!”

You bunched up a t-shirt and threw it at Dane as he miserably failed at impersonating Shawn’s voice, “He didn’t say that.”

“Ask him yourself.”

“Oh, I––“

“Ask who yourself?”

You spun your head around and came face to face with your boyfriend.  You smiled at him and threw another balled up shirt at Dane.

“Hey!  That’s merchandise we’re selling tonight!”

You waved Dane off and rested your hands on your hips, “Before I came on tour were you non-stop going around telling people I was coming and saying how much you love me and saying how much you missed me?”

Shawn still had a slight smile on his face as he gazed at you.  His facial expression hadn’t changed since he walked up behind you, so you thought you had proved Dane wrong, but that wasn’t the case when Shawn spoke up.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, why?” He spoke as if it that information was public knowledge.

Before you had the chance to say anything, you felt a soft material collide with the back of your head.  Your head slightly jerked forward from the contact of the t-shirt that was just thrown at you.  You quickly picked the shirt off the dusty ground and glared at Dane, “This is merchandise that you’re selling tonight.”

Dane barked out a laugh as he finished setting up the merchandise display.  He stood back and admired his work for a few seconds before informing Shawn he was going to check on the other stands and make sure everyone else on the merchandise team had completed their count in.  They did some sort of bro handshake, before telling one another that they’d see each other shortly for the soccer game.

Shawn walked up to your side and threw an arm over your shoulder.  You leaned your head back on his shoulder and looked up at him, “Excited for the match?”

“Yeah, just wish you were playing.”  

Your eyes closed as Shawn lightly traced circles on your upper arm with the tips of his fingers.  Shivers ran down your spine as you closed your eyes, “You’ve seen me play.”

Shawn let out a laugh as he started walking, guiding you around the main floor of the arena, “Even though it is probably a good idea that you’re not playing, it still would’ve been fun to be on the same team.”

You let out a snort as you snaked a hand around his back to pinch his hip.  Shawn lightly jerked away from you before he tickled your shoulder in retaliation, “I’d make sure we’d be on separate teams.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed in response and let the conversation die down.  Whenever a crew member passed, you offered a smile and Shawn greeted them by name.  Seeing the dynamic he had with his crew was heartwarming because you had read of horror stories of main acts being absolute divas to their crew members.

Shawn led you backstage as the two of you wandered into his dressing room.  You sat on the couch as he went over to a little duffle bag he packed just for the soccer game.  Carefully, you watched him as he bent over, staring at how his shoulder blades could be seen through his white t-shirt as he rummaged through the bag.  

Swiftly, he tore his white shirt off and you were graced with a second of seeing your boyfriend’s muscles.  The sight didn’t last long because Shawn threw his t-shirt at your face.  You scrunched your nose up at the slightly sweaty smell mixed in with his signature scent. 

“Hey!”

It only took you a second to throw the shirt off your face, but it was a second too long because Shawn was already in a vintage t-shirt and sliding on a pair of athletic shorts up past his thighs.

“That’s not fair,” you whined.

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as he picked up his sneakers.  He walked over to where you sat on the couch, picked up your legs without any hesitation, and as he sat down on the couch, he rested your calves on his thighs.

He hunched over your legs as you watched him slide his sneakers on and tie them up. The position couldn’t have been comfortable, but he managed to get his sneakers on without complaining for you to move your legs.  And you weren’t complaining about the physical contact your legs had with his thighs.

Once he was done tying his shoes, he sat up and stretched his back, a few pops emitted from his body and you flinched, not liking the sounds of bones cracking together.

Shawn rested his hands on your knees as he leaned his head on top of the couch cushion, eyes closed he said, “I don’t wanna play.”

A small chuckle left your lips, “That’s a lie.”

He turned his head slightly towards you and opened one eye, “Yeah, I do wanna play,” he let out a sigh, “but sitting here with you is so nice.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you looked over at him, both of his eyes now opened and intently staring at you with adoration.

“We’re literally doing nothing.”

“As long as I’m with you,” he lifted his shoulders up in a shrug, “I don’t care what we’re doing.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.  Truth is, you loved doing nothing with him.  You savored the days when all Shawn wanted to do was spend all day tangled in your bedsheets.  You adored the days when you would sit on your couch reading a book––in a similar position to how you were sitting now––and Shawn would be hunched over scribbling lyrics down in a journal, using your legs as a writing surface.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Too sweet.”

“Uh huh,” Shawn grumbled as he pointed to his lips with his index finger, “I want a real kiss.”

You pretended to think about it for a moment before swinging a leg over his lap, adjusting your knees on either side as you straddled him.  Shawn’s hands instantly moved with your body as they landed on your waist.  Unlike your hands that were pressed flat on his chest, Shawn’s hands slowly rubbed your lower back and come back around to your waist.

The only thing more heavenly than his touch was the feeling of his kiss.

Shawn craned his neck up to reach your teasing smile and captured your lips in a sweet kiss.  Your smile was slow to disappear; being in Shawn’s presence was a reason for you to  smile in itself, but once he pinched your hips silently telling you to focus on kissing him, you thought that was a good enough reason to stop smiling.

Your hands trailed up Shawn’s chest until they rounded his neck.  He hummed as he pulled you closer to his chest and your fingers began to play with the small curls on the nape of his neck.  He tilted his head to deepen the kiss at the same time his hands tightly balled up the bottom of your shirt.  He lifted your shirt at a painstakingly slow pace to the point where you wanted to rip it off yourself.

Shawn had the shirt bunched up right under your bra.  Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, untangled your arms from around his neck and raised them over your head to aid Shawn in taking your shirt off.  Once the shirt was off, he carelessly threw it somewhere behind you, and without any hesitation, Shawn reattached his lips to yours as you felt a magnetic pull bring you closer to him.

His calloused fingertips were hot on your bare skin as they danced around.  

Just as you lowered your body to grind against his, a loud single knock, followed by a Shawn, caused both of your heads to snap toward the door.  Shawn practically threw you off him as he looked for your shirt––for anything––to cover up your exposed chest.  

You were leaning back against the arm rest of the couch, trying to calm down your erratic breathing, as you watched Shawn’s eyes widened as the door handle rattled.  It looked as if Shawn threw every ounce of common sense out the window as he threw a pillow that hit you in the face.

You clutched the pillow in your hands as you briefly looked down at it, and then back to Shawn, realizing what he wanted you to do with it, “I’m not––“

“Use it, Y/n––“

“Shawn!”

Your harsh whispers were cut off when Dane walked carelessly into the room.  The pillow was still limp in your hands; in shock that Dane came into the room with little announcement.  Shawn took notice of your chest still out for Dane to see––if he hadn’t seen it already––and with panicked eyes, he flung himself from the other end of the couch to lay on top of you.

You let out an oof as you felt Shawn’s full body weight collapsed on you; the pillow nestled between your stomachs.  You had never complained about Shawn being on top of you, but with this position, the arm of the couch was digging into your back and you and causing you to cramp up.  

“Shawn,” Dane said his name again as he continued to walk further into the dressing room, “Are you gonna come and warm up? The game starts in–––Oh.”

You tried to peak over Shawn’s shoulder to gauge Dane’s facial expression, but with the way Shawn was pressed up against you, you couldn’t see him.  But from the suggestive tone of his voice, you knew that teasing would be soon to follow.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You squeaked out a not at all as Shawn let out a frustrated of fucking course.

You smacked Shawn’s back with his hand at his crude response.

Dane let out a bellowing laugh, “How ya feeling down there, y/n?”  You heard his footsteps come closer and your hands clutched the fabric of Shawn’s shirt out of nervousness, “This is pure gold.  Andrew has said that he’s never caught you two in the middle of doing something––I, of course, called total bull on that––and I’m so happy to have caught you two.”

“Dane,” You said as you drug out the vowels in his name.

His laughter rumbled through the room.  Even though Dane was the person you were closest to on Shawn’s crew, it was still embarrassing to have been caught in a compromising position with your boyfriend.  It felt like you were fifteen.

“I’ll be out in ten,” Shawn answered.

Dane’s laughter died down as you heard his footsteps carry themselves back over towards the door, “I’ll put a timer on, Oh, and Y/n––“ you could hear the smirk on his lips, “––I hope to see you on the sidelines, preferably with a shirt on.”

You dug your head into the crook of Shawn’s neck as you felt all of the blood rush to your face.  Your hands were still tightly hanging onto the back of Shawn’s shirt for the next few minutes as he stayed in his position on top of you.

“At least it was Dane?”

At his weak attempt of lightening up the mood, you pushed him off and sat up on the couch, “At least?! He saw me without a shirt!”

“I covered you up!”

You shot a glare toward his direction as you got up from the couch and searched for your shirt.  It was crumpled up in a ball on the coffee table.  You let out a deep sigh, of course your shirt was thrown somewhere that was obvious.  Lifting the shirt up by the sleeves, you frowned as you examined all of the wrinkles.

“Here,” Shawn was already walking over to his duffle bag, “You can wear my shirt––“

“I’m––No,” you answered him as you tugged on your shirt, “I’d rather wear a wrinkled shirt than have Dane point out that I’m in one of your shirts.”

“But––“

“Let’s go,” you were a few steps away from the door as you held your hand out for him to take, “I want to pick a snack from the vending machine before the game.”

Shawn let out a sigh and grumbled something about how he loved seeing you in his shirts, but he still took ahold of your hand. The two of you walked out the dressing room as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.  A small smile overtook his face.

The two of you walked toward the backstage part of the arena where the vending machines were held.  You brought up a finger to your chin, debating on what snack to pick, as the vending machine lights illuminated your face.  Once you decided what snack you wanted, you pressed a knuckle to the letter L and then to the number 3.

You watched with excitement as the circular black rings slowly pushed your snack forward.  And then as it was finally tipping over the edge, you smiled as the bag fell with a soft fmmp as it reached the bottom of the machine.  You let go of Shawn’s hand to retrieve your snack from under the plastic black flap.

“Cheetos?” Shawn questioned just as you stood up and opened up the bag with a loud crinkle, “If I’d known you’d want Cheetos, I could’ve like added it to my rider and it would’ve been in the dressing room for you.”

You shrugged your shoulders as you held out the bag, offering your Cheetos to Shawn.  He dug his hand into the bag and took one out.  He popped it into his mouth with a loud crunch as he closed his eyes, “God, it’s been forever since I’ve had these.”

Shawn led you out of the vending machine room as you continued to share your Cheetos with him, “I remember having them as a snack after soccer games,” you shared, “You know how parents would sign up to bring snacks after games? I feel like every parent would buy that big value size pack of like twenty-four different chips, and I––“ you licked your fingers that were covered in Cheeto dust, “––Always picked Cheetos.”

Shawn tilted his head back in laughter as he pushed open a back exit door and held it open for you to walk through, “I was always more of a Fritos guy.”

You scrunched your nose up, “Fritos?”

“They’re good!” Shawn defended himself as the people from the tour crew, who were playing in the soccer match, came into view, “Don’t knock ‘em ’til you try ‘em.”

You scoffed, “There are literally dozens of other chips you could chose from,” you stopped walking when you and Shawn came up to the sideline his ‘team’ was on, “Doritos, Lays, Chex Mix––“

“Hey, Y/n!” Your eyes widened as you heard Dane yell out your name.  His feet hit the pavement hard as he ran over, “Glad you could make it––fully clothed.”  While he was talking in a calm soft voice, not raising it to cause suspicion, it still made Andrew’s head perk up.

“You caught them?” Andrew looked up from tying his shoes at Dane.

You blushed as Shawn’s manager looked between the two of you and then back at Dane as you tried to defend yourself, “He didn’t really see anything––“

“See any of what?” Brian had jogged over and started to stretch, lunging on his left leg as he reached down to touch the toes on his right foot.

“It was nothing––“

“Just Shawn and Y/n going at it in the dressing room,” Dane shrugged as he gave you a wink, “Boyfriend, girlfriend stuff.”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped as he reached over to his bag and pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Dane, “I’m his day-to-day,” Andrew grumbled, “Can’t believe it was the merchandise manager who caught you two first.”

You stood there dumfounded, hand frozen in your bag of Cheetos.  You and Shawn kept your relationship as private as possible––private from the media, your social medias, and made sure to keep your PDA to a minimum when you visited him on tour.  So it was a bit comical to see how intrigued Andrew and Dane were in catching the two of you.

Brian straightened up from his stretching and held a fist out toward Shawn, “Sweet, man––Just like Denver last tour?”

Your bag of Cheetos dropped to the ground, the little you had left of your snack spilled, covering the pavement with an artificial orange color.  You felt the heat of your oncoming blush rise up to your cheeks.  With Brian being Shawn’s best friend, you had an inclination that he knew some––if not most––of your sexual relationship with Shawn.  Which you were fine with because you told your best friend almost everything.

But it was always a topic you never discussed between the two of you.  It was mutually understood that while you talked to your best friend’s about each other, you would never talk about it directly to each other.  Shawn talked to Brian about you; You talked to your best friend about Shawn.  But never would your best friend bring it up in front of Shawn.  And never––did you think––Brian would bring it up in front of you.

The same thought seemed to be stirring within Shawn’s head as his eyes widened for a second.  He was only shocked for a split second more before he let out a chuckle and returned the fist bump to Brian and chose to ignore his comment about what happened Denver, “Thanks, man.” 

“Thanks man?!” You turned to face Shawn who had an amused smirk on his face.  

You weren’t mad at the display of masculinity in front of you, in fact, you saw the humor in it, but it was still embarrassing having your boyfriend be congratulated in front of you for hooking up.

The sound of a high pitch whistle echoed off the pavement.  With the sound of the start whistle, and players heading toward the makeshift field, it took away any chance you had of laying into Shawn more.  

Brian ran away laughing, escaping the choice words you had for him, which just left you with Shawn.  You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and tore your head away from Shawn as he lifted a finger under your chin to try and get you to look at him.

“Good luck kiss?”

With a playful sigh, you leaned up on your tip toes to press a peck to Shawn’s smile.  His eyes were still closed when you pulled away and his smile grew wider, “You love me.”

“Unfortunately,” you said as you couldn’t fight Shawn’s contagious smile, “I love you a lot.”

Shawn let out a laugh as a few people hollered at him to come over, “How unfortunate for me,” he pressed another quick kiss to your lips before he started to walk backwards toward the game that had started without him, “Are you free tonight?”

You leaned your weight on your left leg as you tapped a finger on your cheek, “Hm…I’m watching my boyfriend sing at a little show,” Shawn stopped walking backwards, his full attention on you, and showed all his teeth in a grin, “But I’m free after.”

“It’s a date,” Shawn said before he spun around and ran toward the soccer ball.

[muwur]

idk if this counts as an emergency or comfort request but ive been havin a REAL bad body image week nsnnnsnnnsnn could i maybe request headcanons for either oikawa or kuroo (u can pick if u wanna) with an s/o who is rlly self conscious about being chubby/has a really hard time with food and mayb feels like worthless because theyre not the ideal body type? idk sorry if thats dumb aaaah thank u sm if u choose to do this

self-love

♡ scenarios ♡ for oikawa and kuroo

❧ gn reader

✎ 3.7k words

a/n: hey hun, im sorry to hear you’ve been having a rough time lately. this kind of request actually rlly hits close to home, and if u ever need anything, ur mor than welcome to reach out to me :) i can also help look for resources for help, anything really. this goes for all y’all! i dont want none y’all to feel alone with anything ur going thru cuz we’re in this together! and no need to thank me, the pleasure is mine luv 🥰💕 nothing about this is dumb, ur feelings are valid. i hope this will bring you n many others some comfort. also,, FUCK BODY STANDARDS MAKIN US BELIEVE THERE’S AN IDEAL TYPE BC THERE IS NONE N Y’ALL R BEAUTIFUL N IF U DUN THINK SO I WILL COME OVER DER,,, ok im done 🥰🥰 (more notes at the bottom of this, i talk a lot n think its important, didnt wanna add it up here bc it was too long lolol) tw: mentions of bad body and implies disordered eating behaviors

 oikawa

♡ Oikawa was pretty keen, so when he observed a gradual shift in your behavior, he definitely took notice

♡ One day when you showed up to lunchtime empty-handed and sat with your two friends, casually chatting, Oikawa and Iwaizumi gave you a questioning look

♡ “Where’s your lunch, y/n?” Oikawa asked

♡ “Oh, I, uh, ate it already, actually.”

♡ Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and offered you some of his, but you declined, thanking him and stating you were already full

♡ Later that day in class, however, Oikawa couldn’t help but notice the absence of your boxed lunch container in your unzipped backpack

♡ The next day, you came empty-handed again, blaming it on your forgetfulness during your rush to get to school

♡ However, it became a normal occurrence over time, and while you seemed fine, uneasiness began to prick inside Oikawa’s stomach

♡ Those smiles you wore appeared fragile, and the laughter that rumbled from your throat felt restrained

♡ You seemed more tired and unfocused than usual

♡ Preoccupied, withdrawn, and distant

♡ He could sense something was bothering you, no matter how much you may (or may not) have tried to hide it

♡ On his way to school one morning, he made sure to stop by a convenience store to pick one of your favorite snacks, thinking it was a simple gesture to brighten up the somber aura he’s been detecting from you

♡ “I have a surprise for you, y/n~” Oikawa announced with excitement, rummaging through his bag to pull out the snack and show it to you. “Look, it’s your favorite!”

♡ You could only offer him an uneasy smile, “Oh, you shouldn’t have...” You really shouldn’t have...

♡ When he noticed the tension in your body and expression, a frown appeared on his lips

♡ “Y/n? Is something wrong?” He reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder but you swiftly flinched away

♡ ”I’m fine..!”

♡ Surprised at your sudden movement and outburst, you both felt a split second of apprehension crackle in the air before you started to gather your items in a rush

♡ Sighing, you repeated, “I’m fine.”

♡ He wasn’t sure whether you were speaking to him or yourself

♡ “Thanks for the snack, but I’ll pass. Have it for me. You need it more, anyways; you have volleyball practice. I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa,” you offered him a solemn smile and left before he could even reply

♡ Some time had passed before he could finally get you to open up to him

♡ And when you did, it crushed his heart to see how much your insecurities broke you

♡ It hurt to hear how low you thought about yourself; how you couldn’t see the beauty in your being; how you deemed food, your body, and yourself as your worst enemies

♡ Thus bringing you to the conclusion that maybe you’d be happy and like yourself if you could just give up that midday snack or your school lunch

♡ Even raincheck a cafe date you were supposed to have together

♡ Maybe also skip dinner, sometimes breakfast the next morning as well

♡ You could manage on just water

♡ Little sacrifices to shed some weight, feel better, and get closer to your ideal body goals

♡ You admitted, however, to questioning whether any of it was worth it

♡ The constant states of hunger, pain, and defeat you lived in

♡ Only to feel as though you were getting nowhere

♡ Oikawa was well aware of today’s beauty standards. I mean, he himself was often praised for his natural charm and beauty

♡ And you felt you could never reach that ideal

♡ “Oikawa, you’re too good for me.”

♡ His eyebrows knitted in concern as he lifted his right hand to caress your cheek softly. “And why do you say that?”

♡ Tears threatened to prick at your eyes. All you could was stare at the ground in silent shame

♡ When you still said nothing, he leaned in closer, his brown gaze softly pleading

♡ “Y/n, look at me.”

♡ When your eyes flickered up to meet his own, Oikawa asked, “You know I love you, right?”

♡ His question was met with a meek, “Yes.”

♡ From your clouded glaze, he could tell that you had a hard time believing in your own response

♡  “Do you know why?”

♡ But before you could respond, he was already answering his own question

♡ “Well...” he began, glancing up in thought and wearing a small smile

♡ “Something about you makes me want to be by your side. I love to see your smiles and hear your laughter, but I always want to be there to hold you when you’re crying and in pain.”

♡ “You’re supportive. You understand what I need, and I don’t always have to explain myself to you. You take your time with me and make me feel like I can be myself. Not many people have stuck around to actually get to know me. Because of that, you’ve never failed to make my day a little better with just your presence.”

♡ “You’re strong and caring. I can rely on you to have my back, and I hope I provide that same comfort to you as well.”

♡ “I love being able to lazy around with you or go on adventures and discover something new. It’s comfortable and exciting at the same time.”

♡ “Your hands feel like they were made to hold mine.”

♡ He reached down to squeeze your hand gently

♡ “Kissing you makes me forget about everything else on my mind. I can just live in the present with you.”

♡ He moved close and gave you a peck above your eyebrow

♡ “You make me want to work hard and be a better person. You help motivate me to try my best, and you never give up on me. Why would I ever give up on you?”

♡  “I learn something new with you everyday. Like right now, I realize that I’ve never met someone who could so easily make my heart race as they could make my heart break.”

♡ “When I look at you, all I can think about is how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life as a partner and one of my best friends. Nobody else could fill the gaps within me the same way you do.”

♡ Leaning over to brush his lips against your forehead, he muttered, “I’m going to love every part of you, inside and out. You’re already my ideal. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I could go on about every detail on why I feel so strongly for you, but I’m here to show you everything there is to appreciate about yourself because you’re worth every ounce of care and effort. And if you can’t see it in yourself right now, I’ll love you more than enough for the both of us until you learn to love yourself. I’m here to help.”

♡ And after crying out your tears into his shoulder as he held you close and rubbed your back, you both went to his house to relax and have some dinner

♡ He was patient with you, taking into account how having a meal may have made you feel anxious

♡ It was something small and simple that you two agreed to prepare and share, after some tender coaxing from Oikawa

♡ He later made a list in his journal about tips to keep in mind:

♡ ‘Check up on y/n often to see how they’re feeling’

♡ ‘Encourage them to eat meals/snacks. Don’t be too pushy, but be patient. Try to have eat with them when you can!’

♡ ‘Remind them they don’t have to earn the right to eat, and that their body doesn’t define their worth‘

♡ ‘Look into some mindfulness techniques!’

♡ ‘Don’t overvalue physical appearance. Also focus on all the other redeeming qualities y/n has! But of course I’m always gonna tell them they look cutee--’

♡ True to his word, he remained understanding

♡ He’s there to listen to you, or to sit with you in comforting silence

♡ During lunch he would share his food with you, reassuring you that it wasn’t something you had to avoid

♡ Some days he succeeds in encouraging you to share a milk bun or your favorite snack with him

♡ And on days you really didn’t feel like it, he never forces anything onto you and instead made sure you at least hydrated

♡ Oikawa spends some time doing research and gathering tips on how to help you

♡ Always reminds you of your worth and how you bring out the best in him

♡ He’ll never hold it against you if you ever become hostile, irritated, or in denial. He knows you’re hurting and doesn’t take it personally

♡ Sends you cute memes with all those emoji hearts

♡ Also some food puns (Oikawa: “I’m soy into you. Please brie mine. We are mint to be. I ap-peach-iate you. You got a pizza my heart. Olive you--” ; You: *puts a hand over his mouth* ; Oikawa: 🥺 ; You: “...olive you, too”)

♡ Always ready to give up what he’s doing to make sure you’re okay

♡ Will stay up with you late at night to talk on the phone

♡ Reminds you you’re beautiful at least 8 times a day

♡ If y’all ever go shopping and you try things on in the fitting room,, Oikawa would be your #1 hype man

♡ One time you tried something on, and you were almost too ashamed to step out and show him

♡ But when you did, you were met with his surprise and excitement

♡ “dfghjklkuyfuh” was all you could process from his incoherent speech before he insisted on treating you by purchasing it for you (Oikawa: “Can you wear this for me, like, everyday?” ; You: *weird look* “Why are you like this??” you love it tho--)

♡ Gushes internally over how cute you are during your movie + cuddle sessions, mostly pays attention to you rather than the movie

♡ Mid-movie be like:

♡ Oikawa: “So, uh, what’s happening again?

♡ You: -.- “You might as well google the whole synopsis instead of watching it”

♡ Oikawa: “...it’s not my fault you’re distracting, babe”

♡ Always politely excuses himself from his fangirls to get to you. Also reassures you he much prefers to be with you than anyone else and that you’re the best catch ;)) (You: “Oikawa, no” ; Oikawa: “y/n, yes”)

♡ Suggested doing some meditation together once

♡ You listened to a recording and you sat side by side on a mat, but Oikawa thought the person’s voice sounded funny so he had a hard time focusing

♡ But it ended with y’all laughing and making jokes as he lay his lead on your lap and you played with his hair

♡ Y’all get better at it tho

♡ Cooking dates! To try to show you that food isn’t an enemy and can bring people together :)

♡ Puts music on so y’all can jam together (Oikawa: “Oh my gosh, y/n, this is my favorite song, you’re not even rEADY to see me perform-- ; You: “Oikawa, t-the food! It’s burning!!”)

♡ Cooking dates also show that you should never leave the stove unattended

♡ Every once in a while he suggests seeking professional help. He wishes he could take away your pain and help you all his own, but he knows this is more complicated and required outside help, too

♡ Has help resources READY

♡ As well as small snacks like granola bars for you if you ever feel faint

♡ He doesn’t hesitate to confront you when he feels it’s necessary and he’s worried about your habits

♡ He handles things well, though, and often convinces you to take care of yourself more, even though he’s there to look after you

♡ Has made it his mission to help you win against your battle with insecurities

♡ Overall, he’s very caring and empathetic, hoping one day you’ll see yourself the way he sees you 💖 : strong, amazing, breathtaking, & perfectly imperfect

kuroo

♡ Occasionally, you would think about the day you broke down in front of him

♡ Your body racked with repressed whimpers as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes and describe the recent state of your mind through choked sobs

♡ Lately, your thoughts were being especially relentless in making you feel miserable

♡ Oftentimes you’d be able to shove the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and carry on your day as usual, expertly acting as though everything in your life was going smoothly

♡ However, you found yourself fighting a losing battle against your own conscious, heavily preoccupied with thoughts of your own worthlessness

♡ And so you tried to cope

♡ But you were painfully aware of everything you felt was wrong with you

♡ You felt uncomfortable in your skin

♡ Every time you passed by your own reflection, you couldn’t help but mentally recoil at the image looking back at you

♡ Your clothes didn’t fit right

♡ Even when you opted for baggy clothes, you felt like you were taking up all the space in them

♡ Maybe it was the weight gain. You could see and feel it in your face, your arms, your stomach, your legs... everywhere

♡ You just wanted to hide away your shame

♡ Perhaps it was the dessert you allowed yourself to eat the other day. Foolish of you to think then that you wouldn’t regret it as much as you did afterwards

♡ As a consequence of those foolish actions, you made mental notes about anything and everything you ate. What it was, how much of it you had, etc

♡ Trying to restrict so that maybe you would lose some weight and come to like how you look

♡ Your obsessive thoughts of food and weight overtook your mind like a dark cloud

♡ Your favorite foods, which before would never fail to brighten your mood, taunted you with shame and guilt

♡ Exercise? Sometimes it was an activity you genuinely enjoyed. Other times, a chore that made you feel shitty or numb and reinforced your unhealthy desire to lose

♡ And you sometimes found yourself crying over your last meal, one you know you didn’t need. One you didn’t deserve

♡ And each time you released the reins on your self-control, you felt pathetic going against the vow you made to yourself  

♡ At this rate, you’d never be beautiful or be happy with yourself

-You’d remain unworthy, fat, disgusting--

-But before you could continue, your story was cut off by the impact of Kuroo’s embrace

-Your surprise silenced your sobs, and you could only stare wide-eyed at the space in front of you as you felt his arms squeeze tightly around your frame

-You both sat there for a few moments on your knees, with your back lightly leaning against a wall

- “I’m sorry for the pain you’re experiencing,” he begins softly. “Thank you for sharing with me. It must’ve taken a lot for you to do that.”

-He was right. It was your first time reaching out to another person about this. It was the last thing you thought you would’ve done today

- “I want to let you know that you shouldn’t be ashamed for feeling this way. Reaching out is important and brings you the help you need to get better. I know you might not want help right now or think that these thoughts and behaviors are a problem. However, telling me about all this shows that some part of you is recognizing there’s something wrong and you can’t always handle it on your own.”

-There were many reasons you kept this to yourself. You didn’t want to bother anyone else. Your problems seemed so trivial.  You worried saying them aloud would confirm your beliefs. You were scared people would see you differently. You--

-The intrusive thoughts never failed to make you feel ashamed

-However, it was oddly comforting to release the pent up emotions. To know you didn’t have to bottle up this burden anymore, and that you weren’t alone

-You were about to murmur in response when,

- “Also, you’re an idiot, y/n.”

- “Wow, thanks, as if I don’t already think that about myself,” you bit back in response

-You were about to shove him away just when he released his grip around your body and placed his hands on your shoulders

-His eyes shone with determination and a faint, inviting smile spread on his lips

- “You are the one of the single most important things in my life. I just mean you’re an idiot in the sense that you’re overevaluating one aspect to define your whole self. You’ve forgotten about all your other redeeming qualities that contribute to who you are.”

♡ “Your size, weight, shape; none of that matters. What matters is your health and happiness. Neglecting yourself in order to reach an ‘ideal’ that you’ve concluded is the answer to your self-worth is only bringing you farther away from what you truly want.”

♡ “I don’t mean to downplay any of your emotions or how significant this is to you. Your first step was to put your trust into someone else about this. That’s done. Now, I’m here to help you undergo self-evaluation and serve as encouragement on your journey to self-love and acceptance.”

♡ “I also want to remind you progress is not linear. There will be times when things are harder, and that’s okay; it’s part of the process. If you’re open to getting better in the future, I’m sure as hell going to be there every step of the way.”

♡ And with a soft peck to the forehead and another hug, he nuzzled into your neck and muttered, “I love you. And I want you to love yourself. So, please, allow me to help you through this and I guarantee that by the end of it all, it’ll have been so worth it.”

♡ Unsure what to say, you gripped his jacket tighter, buried your head in his shoulder, and muttered, “Thank you.”

♡ While the negative feelings about yourself remained afterward, you were relieved that your boyfriend was supportive and calm

♡ He treated you the same as always, teasing you over dumb things while making you feel like you stood among the highest peaks on Earth

♡ The day after, he had shown up to your house, weary-eyed and carrying his backpack

♡ “Kuroo? Why are you here? Also, why do you look so tired??”

♡ He stepped into your house with a yawn. He stretched his arms, then reached for his bag and whipped out his laptop

♡ “I stayed up a bit last night to do some research, babe! I also learned a lot about nutrition and molecular gastronomy, so I could help you come up with a meal plan that you’re okay with!”

♡ You were touched he was educating himself on how to help you

♡ But you drew the line at the science jokes-- (Kuroo: “You know you love them.” ; You: “‘Na’ I don’t.” ; Kuroo: :ooo “Did you just-- Marry me.”) (Na = sodium lol)

♡ His nutritional research helped you to learn the contents of food beyond calories; mans explains the vitamins, nutrients, amino acids, etc in them that you need and their benefits

♡ “Trout, avocados, and almonds have vitamin E, which is good for your skin! Oh, and don’t get me started on bananas. Yes, they have carbs (which your body needs anyway as a source of energy!), but POTASSIUM?? Shit’s gonna regulate your fluid balance, maintain heart health, stimulate normal muscle function, AND help your brain to communicate with the rest of your body!”

♡ ALSO cooking dates; just as chaotic (“Aw mannn, the egg exploded all over the microwave!” dont ask y it was being microwaved)

♡ Over time, he’s taken mental notes about your thoughts, feelings, triggers, etc

♡ He’s quick to pick up on your mood and will always ask you how you’re doing

♡ Tries to do something special for you on days you’re especially not feeling well, like taking you on a spontaneous date! (You: “Do you know how to ice skate?” ; Kuroo: “Uhh,,, after today, I will hopefully”)

♡ But will also opt for staying in with you and cuddling when you don’t want to go out (Kuroo: “I heard this movie is soooo bad! ...wanna watch it?”)

♡ Invited you to the beach with his team during the first week of summer

♡ You were unsure about this, since that meant going out in public, potentially with minimal clothing

♡ You initially sat on a beach towel under an umbrella, wearing the security of a T-shirt. He’d been aware of how you felt ever since he asked you to come, so he would sit with you and link an arm around your shoulder

♡ “I’m lucky I get to spend this day with you,” he’d say. “You look gorgeous. You always do. Now, I wanna see you smile and have fun. Let’s go take a dip, yeah?” He offered his hand, which you shyly took, and pulled you up

♡ Then immediately picked you up and started running to the water to get you soaking wet, and you were forced to ditch the heavy, waterlogged shirt

♡ However, you silently thanked him for his sweet words, making you feel secure enough to just forget your worries and enjoy the warm sun and cool water

♡ He also tries his best to lessen your anxieties over food and often shares/eats meals with you

♡ Reminds you everyday how much you’re worth to him and that there’s nothing about you that needs to change

♡ This sweet, protective, n smart boi will treat you how you deserve. It’s a guarantee he’ll be there through thick and thin, and he’s excited for the day you realize you’re just as amazing as he knows you are 💕

a/n: oop this was rlly long lol mb, i just may or may not personally know a bit about this so i went oFF

also neded to some som silly n fluff bc we all need dat

also, these r like kinda hc’s ?? but also a deconstructed oneshot/scenario?? bc they provide some rly brief bg story? one from more  of the character perspective while the other more on y/n before we get  to the hc’s about how he treats y/n. how everyone struggles w body image is different n i wanted to portray a bit of what it felt like and how it could manifest in ppl’s behaviors/thoughts. however, this is not to say that everyone feels exactly like this. what i wrote only represents a fraction of it all.

by providing some sort of bg i hope im not making u feel like this isnt u  or that u cant relate, pls lmk if i need to change anything to make it  right for u <3 ok now im actually done sry long author’s note  rfguhofe this is just rlly important to me y’all  , stay safe n take care, much luv for u <3

[obutsuwrites]

confectionery kisses (fat gum x reader)

summary: “I know you’re enjoyin’ me, but -- uh -- can I kiss ya?” The alcohol hit him fully now; the hero too enumerated to be bashful. Steamie looked up and was greeted by lemon color eyes that held utter kindness. xxx lord forgive me bc this is so wholesome it killed me!!! but basically, bakery!au ft. meet-cute w/ drunken kissing shenanigans~! (well it's 1 kiss ok but it is what it is) 

author note: i’m considering a part 2 that picks up where this leaves off, but w smut. if that’s sumthin anyone would b interested in, pls lmk~!

reader is nonbinary/afab!

word count: 2,130

my ao3 for more shitposts~!

my ko-fi~!

my inbox is open 4 requests :3c

Focused, flour caked hands kneaded the dough before them. The young baker too engrossed by the magic of dough to notice a soft chime sound through the shop. Customers weren’t uncommon for them. Steamie’s Bakery was a word-of-mouth local treasure. A bewitching pastry shop that had the best donuts, honest. Steamie -- as they prefer -- adored their neighbors praises. Steady streams of patrons in a ‘hot spot’ for criminal activity wasn’t exactly the best business decision. However, this run-down homestyle bakery -- and it’s holes -- were theirs. 

Steamie hummed as they worked. Their mind was stuck within sugary confectionery. 

“Hey… y’all open?” This man’s voice was gruff and carefree. A smile wrapped in his syllables. 

Fat Gum stood within the tiny bakery. His form dwarfed the modest space; the edge of his hood scrapped against the ceiling as he waited for a response. The BMI Hero was surprised his lumbering footsteps hadn’t alerted the owner. Was it possible he had misread the sign? Work had drained him recently. Fat Gum had practically dragged himself to Steamie’s Bakery. Locals babbled constantly about the place, and he desired a quiet bite after hours. The quant business was one of the only eateries open at such an hour. 

The abrupt sound whipped the enamored baker from their task. Warm eyes glanced up, irises bright and alive despite the time. “Hi. Yes! Yes, we are. I’m Steamie.” Their eyes met the giant man who stood awkwardly in front of a display. He looked so out of place, the man’s body bulbous and impossibly large. Steamie guessed by the man’s rather campy mask that he was an off-duty hero. A species of hero not seen often around their street. The area deemed too dangerous for such leisurely activity. 

Truth be told, Steamie didn’t care about heroes. Or villains. The tall baker instead hyper focused upon baking. A hobby that morphed into a job. However, a small voice inside Steamie wanted to impress the man. He seemed so friendly and looked so… cuddly. Like a sentient teddy bear. A man composed of pillows and kindness. 

Fat Gum furrowed his brows. The BMI Hero seemed to be in deep thought over exactly which eclair to buy. He had never seen so many flavors before. Strawberry, blueberry, cherry, watermelon. Every flavor sounded as delicious as the last. Pink tongue darted out between his lips and teeth. A sugar overload was tempting. Simple black coffee wouldn’t cure this sluggy fog. Besides, he had burned away precious fat today. It was a treat. 

“Steamie? Does your quirk help with your work?” Fat Gum asked, as he scanned the pastries. He noticed their designs now. Soft and lacy intricate artwork that intertwined on each eclair; each pattern unique and perfectly executed. Every baked good was a labor of love. 

A snort escaped Steamie; the sound high pitched and hearty. 

“I wish. No, I just emit a puff of steam. I’m basically a glorified dehumidifier.” Steamie brushed flour decorated hands against their apron. The young baker was keen to serve the hero. Hero culture wasn’t an interest of theirs, but the physical embodiment of a pillow was too enticing for the baker. They wondered what exactly their job was. ‘Due to his size… maybe rescue?’

It was now Fat Gum’s turn to laugh. Rumbly and soft. “I don’t do rescue. Say, uh, how much are these eclairs?” 

Rambling out loud was habitual for them. Their thoughts grew legs of their own and walked out into tangible space. They were immune to the embarrassment of it, instead accepting their odd trait.

Steamie slapped a dusty hand to their forehead. “I don’t have price tags..?” The sentence was in limbo between a question and an answer. They had rearranged the shop recently. Changing pastry stock required innovation. The elclairs before Fat Gum had been a stroke of late night genius. Birthed from the desire for a gooey center and intricate lace. A happy medium for the proud baker. 

The baker quickly stepped behind the counter, dust flew from their hands. Diligent hands eventually found a leftover tag and wrote down a price. Patrons caused Steamie to envelope themselves into baking. Most days, flour and powdered sugar felt impossible to wash off. Almost like a second skin; signs of their success. 

Steamie beckoned Fat Gum to the counter. The BMI Hero obliged; pep in his gait. 

“Here. Don’t go thinking you’re getting a discount!” Steamie’s laugh echoed in the bakery as they handed the hero price tags. Fat Gum could swear the baker’s body vibrated from the sound. “I’ve been busy lately. Cakes and pies don’t sell themselves.” 

The hero’s smile grew like marigolds; fast and vibrant. Steamie didn’t mind looking at this hero. His posture was proud, but hid something. A mystery Steamie couldn’t quite figure out. ‘Kinda interesting…’

“What’s  interesting?” Fat Gum asked, the giant of a man still enamored by pastries. 

“You know my quirk; what’s yours? It’s probably super interesting.” 

The hero’s face contorted into a mix of confusion and admiration. ‘Does she not know who I am?’ “My quirk is fat absorption. I don’t usually look like this!” A laugh erupted from the man. His notoriety meant everyone knew of his quirk. The banter was refreshing. Fat Gum enjoyed the naivety of the baker. 

Their conversation died down as Fat Gum perused baked goods. Steamie wandered back to their original post. They almost forgot the hero was in the shop. Heavy footsteps dissolved any fantasy of peace and quiet. Little moments of serenity were scarce, but nightfall brought the quiet Steamie craved. A meager smile etched into the corners of the baker’s mouth. They hummed as they worked; now fully absorbed in kneading dough. 

“Hey,” the hero’s gruff voice broke the silence between them, “hope it’s not too much trouble, but I’m ready to be rung up!” His words carried an airiness to them; like cotton candy. Steamie wondered if this was a natural state for Fat Gum. 

Steamie nodded, again wiping their hands on their apron. Dusty fingers worked at the register and completed the transaction between the two. 

Fat Gum stopped short of the door and turned to the baker still stationed at the counter. “What’s your name?” He asked with childish curiosity, as if Steamie’s name was a mystery. 

“Like I said, I’m Steamie,” they replied, eyeing the hero. It wasn’t uncommon for locals to ask what their real name was, but as far as Steamie cared, Steamie was their name. An abstract, genderless name that suited them. 

Fat Gum laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the empty bakery. Steamie swore display cases shook. Almost reminiscent of thunder. “No, uh, your… Your real name, unless you prefer Steamie. It’s cute.” A tint of red dotted his cheeks, unable to hide the embarrassment that painted his face. He didn’t intend to tell the baker; the compliment had slipped past him. 

“Steamie is who I am. Is Fat Gum not who you are?” They chose to ignore the comment, it was muttered anyway, as if the hero was embarrassed. It was polite to not intimate customers. 

“Toyomitsu,” the hero said and pointed to his chest; a smile stretched across his face. 

“It was nice to meet you, Toyomitsu.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Fat Gum -- or Toyomitsu as he preferred -- was absent from the shop, until several weeks after their first meeting. 

It was closing time and Steamie was locking up. Despite their dingy location, the baker only carried two keys; one to lock up and the other to unlock their apartment. There were better things to steal than confectionery. 

“Long time no see, huh, Steamie?” 

The thunderous voice obviously belonged to Toyomitsu; unique and hearty. 

The baker flinched at the sudden noise and swiftly turned to the BMI Hero. His face was no longer taunt and long, but instead, squishy and soft. Chubby cheeks that were made for pinching and a soft, bulbous belly. The man before them sounded like Toyomitsu, but his hefty frame was the opposite of the hero Steamie met. 

“You’re… Toyomitsu, right?” Remembering names wasn’t one of Steamie’s strong suits. 

A light blush crept across Toyomitsu’s face, ending at the tips of his ears. “That’s me! Kinda surprised you remembered, it’s been awhile.” 

Steamie nodded and finished to lock the door, pocketing their key. 

“I was wondering,” Toyomitsu began, “if you wanted to get a bite. It’d be my treat!” The hero’s tone was excited, like a child asking for a sweet. ‘He’s so enduring like this… reminds me of a teddy bear.’ Steamie’s lips curled into a petite smile. A secret between friends. 

In truth, Toyomitsu wanted more than a dinner date, but any meaningful relationship is built on friendship. At least that’s the advice he offered to Red Riot. The pro hero wanted to kiss the baker and pinch their cheeks; all while cooing at them. 

“No thanks, I’m exhausted from today,” Steamie replied. They saw Toyomitsu’s wide grin falter and felt a pang in their chest. ‘His face is just too cute!’ “Actually, I don’t live far from here, and I have some left-over pastries. They don’t sell like my eclairs.” Anything Steamie baked was delicious, Toyomitsu decided. 

“Sure!” He eagerly replied. A grin encompassed his face as the couple walked towards the baker’s apartment. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The BMI hero sat across Steamie as the baker dove into another work related story. He adored the spark in their eyes, like tiny sprinkles decorating a vibrant treat. A treat he wanted to admire and cherish. Watching Steamie become animated while they talked caused Toyomitsu’s heart to quiver against his ribcage. 

Steamie -- to their credit -- truly opened up after several cups of wine; slurring and excited. Their thoughts were no longer accidental blurbs, but drunken fragments. 

“...an’ that’s why I don’ keep sugar an’ flour!” 

Toyomitsu nodded, tufts of blond feathered around his forehead. 

“Wanna touch your cheeks, can I?” The baker asked, their voice small and childlike. This was the first sentence that wasn’t a slurred mess, and yet, Toyomitsu still felt heat bloom in his cheeks. 

Gently, Toyomitsu brought their small hand -- that his own dwarfed -- against his cheek. The baker’s touch was warm, like fresh baked bread. Without realizing, the hero nuzzled into Steamie’s palm. 

‘So soft…’

“Yeah, you are.” The alcohol had made Toyomitsu brave, lion hearted and flustered. 

Pink sprinkled across Steamie’s face as they withdrew their hand and buried their face within their palms. “Sorry,” the baker slurred, “you… You look so ‘oft.” 

Toyomitsu chuckled at the mumbled apology. “S’ok, you’re cute.” 

Steamie let out a soft gasp, “Cute? Dunno ‘bout that! But I think your cheeks…” They weren’t accustomed to compliments, especially compliments from a teddy bear. ‘Wanna bury myself in his chest.’

“You can.” 

Steamie’s face was uncovered and ever red, the baker unable to justify hiding the inferno that burned into their cheeks. 

The baker devolved into a red and squealing mess; unable to form coherent sentences, like little pieces of creamy confectionery. The pro hero wondered what their plush lips felt like pressed up against his… They looked so small, so delicate. A treasure he wanted to covet. The hero’s large, calloused finger reached up and quickly swiped across the supple flesh. ‘Like a flower petal,’ Toyomitsu thought. 

The baker drifted into Toyomitsu’s lap; scorching and far too big for their frame. “Ya smell ‘ice,” Steamie mumbled and buried their face into the gigantic man’s chest. Fluffy and cozy, like a pillow. “Like a pillow!” Steamie couldn’t help the outburst. Toyomitsu wasn’t a man, but a plushie they wanted to bury themselves in. He was velvety and felt like home. The baker inhaled his scent, trying to memorize the floral notes of his laundry soap. Vanilla and honeysuckle. 

Toyomitsu petted their hair, running his fingers through long strands. Even their hair was soft. Steamie was a squishy marshmallow he wanted to keep. He wrapped an arm around their small body, hyper aware of their delicate structure. Warm hands began to rub Steamie’s back as they nuzzled against Toyomitsu’s sweatshirt. ‘Feels like a hug.’

“I know you’re enjoyin’ me, but -- uh -- can I kiss ya?” The alcohol hit him fully now; the hero too enumerated to be bashful. Steamie looked up and was greeted by lemon color eyes that held utter kindness. 

Their tongue refused to cooperate, the baker only able to produce a curt nod. Their face was a blazing wildfire, a vibrant array of pinks and rogues. 

Slowly, Toyomitsu pressed his chapped lips against the baker’s mouth. The kiss was slow and sloppy, neither party capable of coordinated motion. Toyomitsu brushed his tongue along their lips and tasted sugar. His mind was clouded with lewd thoughts of the baker as he finally broke the kiss; greedy lungs heaving -- desperate for air. 

“Ya taste good, wonder what this tastes like,” the pro hero pondered. His hand gently palming between their thighs.

[writerjodie]

Preferences: How You Meet (Modern AU)

uhhh this is a really old piece of writing (from Aug. 2018) - so it doesn’t have Kass or Alexios (sorreh) I hope ya’ll enjoy! - Preferences - How You Meet (Modern) Altaïr Ibn-La-Ahad You meet in a bar late at night, long after your girlfriends have bailed and gone home. You sit alone at the dark bar, sipping your favourite drink and losing yourself in thoughts of sunny beaches and handsome men. You're so lost you fail to notice a certain beautiful man slide up beside you. "You, um, want another?" He elbows you and nods at your drink, gaining a nod from you in response. "Not seen you here before, sweetheart, what's your name?" You ask, smiling up at the kind stranger. "Altaïr, and you are?" He pays for your drink and hands it to you, settling onto a stool beside you. "(Name),"you smirk at him, taking a sip of your drink in what you hope is a seductive way. Needless to say, by the end of the night you two are strangers no more - and he even leaves with your number and a promise to text you in the morning. You grin to yourself as you stumble out into the dawning streets, you have a feeling you'll be seeing a lot more of this Altaïr.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze 

(Bc Ezio would totally be a model) You had seen Ezio’s pictures in magazines, and it was your dream as a model to work alongside him, but you’d never considered it would ever happen - no, not until your agent called you about a wedding photo shoot. The dresses you were to model were new takes on traditional styles, experiments with new colours and fabrics, they tell you. In fact, the first dress you try on you love so much you almost want to get married to any old stranger just to wear it. As you make your way to the set for the photo shoot, a familiar accented voice calls out to you. "My, if I had known I would be working with such a bella donna today I would have tried harder," Ezio calls out to you, a mocking pout on his plush lips. "Ezio stop jesting, you always look immaculate! Nice to see you again, its been a long time," you chuckled back, disappointed when your conversation is cut short by the photographer calling you to action. Most of the shots are generic, run of the mill poses, until you get to the final shot. "Now, look in love! Kiss!" The photographer calls, and you feel your cheeks burn with the thought of Ezio kissing you. "Finally!" Ezio sighs, before pulling you into a soft embrace, his lips plastered onto yours.

Ratonhnhakè:ton | Connor Kenway It was your first day as a volunteer at Davenport Animal Sanctuary. As a child your parents had told you about the Sanctuary's work, and you had been distraught to find that it had closed down and left to ruin for several years. Despite that setback, the Sanctuary reopened three weeks prior to your arrival, thanks to the help of a local young man - known to the masses as Connor. "(Name), I presume?" A sweet looking man waves at you, "Welcome to Davenport," "You must be Connor! It is a pleasure to be here, and I think it's wonderful what you're doing here," you shake his hand eagerly, finding yourself extremely excited to start your work here. Connor looks as if he doesn't expect your compliment, for his cheeks quickly redden and he blinks a few times in surprise. "Thank you, (name), follow me to the manor, I need to talk through insurance with you then you can begin work. I think you are with me today," he lumbers off on his large legs, beckoning you to follow. Excited, you skip behind him and try not to stare at his beautiful face for too long. Oh yes, you are going to be so happy here.

Edward Kenway Sighing, you glare down at the bulky life jacket around your midriff. There was no point in you being here anyway, you have no interest in sailing whatsoever, you're just here out of politeness after you won a few free sailing lessons. "Ready for your lesson, Lass?" the voice of who you presume to be your instructor appears out of nowhere, causing to you turn around to find him. Once you turn, it is as if the whole world stops on its axis. Your breath, laden with the salty tang of the sea, catches in your throat as if unable to escape. Widening, your eyes take in the sight of the man, who ticks every single box ever. Sandy blonde hair? Check! Sun kissed skin? Check! Tattoos? Obviously! Muscles that only a GOD could possess? You bet your damn toenails he has them. Swallowing, you attempt to speak to him, only to stand their with your mouth flapping like a fish. "Oh...I tend to have that effect on lots of people," he smirks at you, holding his hand out for you to shake it, "The name's Edward Kenway, by the way. Shall we be starting?" Dumbfounded, you follow Edward onto the little boat where you will start your lesson. Oh...maybe you do have an interest in sailing now.

Arno Dorian (Sorry but Dorian would totally be that irresponsible carer, who somehow keeps all the children alive) This softè baguette works in the nursery down the road from you, a nursery which your little sibling attends every day. Each night they come home, telling you stories of Arno, and each day you think about what he would be like to meet. Luckily, your mother sent you to pick up your little sibling from nursery, giving you a chance to finally meet the famous Arno Dorian. "Are you not too young to have children, mon amour?" A sickly sweet voice welcomes you into the foyer of the nursery, a voice belonging to none other than Arno Dorian. "Oh, no she's only my sister," you stammer, holding the hand of your sister as Arno approaches. Your sister seems to approve of this action, and she turns to Arno with a smile. "Mister Dorian! I've told (name) all about you! I think you two should get married!" Your sister squeals, sending your cheeks into a flurry of burning embarrassment. "What? I barely know him!" You squeak as your sister laughs on. Lucky Arno is unfazed by the whole ordeal, and shoots you a crooked grin. "Well, I would have to take you for dinner first, at the very least. Is tomorrow okay?" He winks at you, sending your sister into overdrive. "Uh...yeah, sure," you stammer out, before scooping your sister up and skipping out of there. "(Name) has a boyfriend! (Name) has a boyfriend!" Your sister giggles and squirms in your arms. You can't help but smile...maybe you do have a boyfriend.

Jacob Frye The Rook, what a nice name for a pub. At least, it's better than the last one, the Blight. Damn suitable name too. Since the pub changed hands, and was swiftly refurnished, you decided to try out the new bar to see if the landlord was any better than the last. "Why on earth did you buy a pub, Jacob? You don't know anything about running a business!" Someone argues from inside, but you ignore it and take the plunge through the door anyway. "I know a lot about drinking, and a lot of that happens in pubs," the response comes, stopping short when you enter, "Ah! My first customer! Welcome to the Rook! What can I get you?" He continues. "Just a rum and coke please, it's been a long day," you chuckle, settling down into the first seat you see as one of the pair get to work behind the bar. Even in the dim light of the pub you can tell he's handsome, with a swagger and smirk to match. "Welcome, I'm Evie Frye," the woman who was arguing first sits down beside you, "That, over there, is my brother, Jacob Frye. He's the landlord," Accepting your drink from Jacob, you laugh as he pours himself a drink and joins you. "Jacob! You can't drink on the job," Evie sighs, rubbing her face into her hands. Raising his brows, Jacob shrugs at you, glass in hand. "Where's the fun in running a pub then, dear sister," he laughs, downing the whole glass in one go. As the night crawls on, more and more customers join you until the whole ordeal turns into a jolly drinking competition - which you obviously won.

Evie Frye (The cliche hurt in this one....but I love Evie) Libraries, oh how you love them. Their wall burst with undiscovered adventures and unstarted quests, just waiting for you to stumble across them. Turning away from the bookshelf, you accidentally walk straight into another girl, sending her armful of books scattering across the floor. "I am SO sorry! Let pick them up for you!" You bend down and scramble for the books, hoping your blush is hidden from sight. Alas, fortune is not in your favour today, for when you stand up and finally get a good look at her, your blush deepens at the sight of her. Pretty freckles, pursed lips, little dimples! Oh she is adorable! "Don't sweat it," the girl calls over her shoulder, already leaving the library. Oh, you might start coming to the library more often!

Bayek of Siwa (I have yet to explore AC:Origins yet, please forgive me if Bayek is out of character) Smiling, you tickle the eagle some more. It's absurd really, how such a graceful bird of prey is reduced to a soft sweetheart once you give her a few tickles. You continue for some time, uttering soft words at the bird as you go, until a voice begins to speak. "She is a beautiful bird, no?" Someone asks, and you look up to see none other than Medjay Bayek of Siwa. "My apologies, Medjay, I did not know she belongs to you," you stutter, knowing full well the man could kill you at any second. He waves his hand at you, as if batting away your apology. "Her name is Senu, by the way. Come, hold out your arm," he whistles, and Senu sets of flying until she is soaring far above your heads. "Keep your arm still," he orders, whistling again at his eagle. With a swish of her wings, Senu has rapily descended and landed with a satisfying ploof on your arm. Eyes wide, the stare at the bird close up now, and Senu stares back, seemingly giving her approval. "She likes you, may I have your name?" Bayek asks, sending the bird soaring high again. "(Name)," you smile, casting your eyes away from his. "Well, (name), it has been a please meeting you, I hope our paths may cross again," Bayek finalises, before waving and heading back into his house. Excited, you run back to your house, replaying the meeting over and over in your head.

Shay Cormac (I can so imagine Shay on a motorbike...in all his leather gear...oh lord I need a cold shower) Distracted by your phone, you don’t look properly when you cross the road - resulting in you nearly getting ran over by a flash motorcycle. Frozen in shock on the curb edge, you nearly drop your phone as you watch the bike wobble a little as it comes to a stop, the rider kicking on the breaks and hopping off to check you. His words come out muffled, forcing him to repeat himself once he removes the helmet from his head.

“You alright lass?” he asks, his dark eyes searching you for scratches. God - he is good looking.

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, “Are you? I should’ve looked where I was going,”

He merely nods, confirming he is unscathed. Biting your lip, you watch him stride back over to his bike, his broad shoulders encapsulated in the shiny leather of his jacket. With a wave of farewell to you, he puts on his helmet and kicks the bike into action once more - speeding down the road in a flurry of dust. Afterwards, every time you hear the roar of a motorbike, you can’t help but wonder if it’s the chocolate eyed stranger, you wouldn’t mind running into him again...

Haytham Kenway Your first day as cafe manager was mostly uneventful...that's if we gloss over the poor lad who spilt his tea all over the floor in protest at something his father said. "Oh for God's sake Connor," he mutters, trying to mop up the spillage with a napkin. "Don't worry about it! It's what we're here for!" You chirp, sliding over to the table with a proper cloth, "Can I get you a replacement tea?" "No, thank you, I was just leaving," the younger one, Connor storms out, leaving you and the mam to clean up the mess. "Teenagers, eh?" You chuckle, wiping away the last of the tea. "Yes...quite," the man looks at you for a second,"I presume you are the new manager here? Do you know what happened to the last one?" "Oh, yes Ziio left for another coffee shop, were you two friends?" You ask, picking up the discarded tea cup. "No no, we just knew each other. Haytham Kenway, by the way," he holds out his hand for you to shake, before swiftly departing from the shop - no doubt to look for his son. "Strange," you utter, heading back to tills with the tea.

[ghoulstars]

i Sure Would Like to not have to be literally relieved/excited when my mom goes to bed every single night because otherwise i feel constantly tense and at risk of something happening to make my living situation unsafe, again, even if we’ve had a good/normal day

shes back on her fucking bullshit today and she usually confronts me on things that have made her Mad(tm) that ive “done” but today she hasnt said jack shit to me. all i can figure is: shes upset that i didnt get up and help her stain the wood for the porch we’re building where our old shitty side deck was shes upset bc i didnt wash all the dishes ?????????? who fucking knows

heres the kicker though folks: i didnt wash all the dishes because for some reason, since replacing our water heater, when the water from the sink starts getting cold it doesnt gradually get cold, it literally goes from like scalding hot (even thru gloves) to hardly lukewarm and i was only washing dishes for about 20? 30? minutes last night before the water temp fucking plummeted so i couldnt finish. bonus is that there were literally only like 5-7 things left to wash and it was literally just 3 styrofoam cups, one pot and like...2 or 3 forks/spoons. absolutely incredible and worth spitefully giving your daughter the cold shoulder over, am i right folks

and me helping stain was only even a fucking a possibility because she gave me an open ended offer to help her last night and i gave an open ended response. she asked me if i wanted to try to go to bed early enough and she would call me in the morning and just see if i wanted/felt up to come out and help, and i said i would be willing to try and id do my best. so when my manic ass had a manic moment and i slept for 3 hrs from 6 am to 8 and was dying and couldnt pass back out for any reason of course i texted her and told her i couldnt fucking help lmao. my fucked sleep schedule is a result of my Crazy Quirky Wacky Bipolar 2 anyway and like she refuses to help me or sympathize with me abt my mental health so ??? guess ill die?????

i didnt get back to sleep around fucking like 12/1 pm and i noticed that she stopped fucking replying to my texts literally right after i said i couldnt help and then every time she walked past my room, where i was Clearly Awake And On My Phone With My Door Open, she flat out ignored me. wouldnt even spare me a side glance.

and when i woke up at 5 pm today, no matter how late i wake up my mom always comes and wakes me up no matter what, today she walked by my room twice EVEN WHEN IT WAS THAT LATE AND I WAS STILL IN BED without saying jack fucking shit to me, and only came in on her third time walking back by to her sitting room and just blankly went ‘youre not laying here in the dark’, turned on my light, then swiftly left

then before that she’d texted me, after telling me for weeks to just use our limited data even if it runs over bc our wifi cant handle my phone being connected along with all our other devices anymore, that im going to have to use my laptop now bc she isnt paying another 200$ phone bill this month. here’s kicker number 2: after literally outright giving me her food plans for tonight and tomorrow yesterday she also texts me that she didnt cook. just a flat “I didn’t cook”. im so fucking depressed all the time that i physically and mentally cannot handle getting up to find and cook myself my own like ACTUAL MEALS and making food that requires actual cooking is often times out of the fucking question, and shes been not cooking for SEVERAL nights here recently, sometimes days in a row, and with my depression being wholly unacknowledged by her, once again, guess ill fucking perish??? unless i can miraculously find the energy to make chicken fingers or ramen noodles im going to be doing what ive fucking done almost every goddamn night this past month she hasnt cooked which is live off of snack foods and ensure lmao. KICKER NUMBER 3: she promised me that either tonight or tomorrow, bc she has a Big Foobaw Game, she wouldnt cook and would instead get me my alltime favorite chinese food from my alltime favorite chinese restaurant that she knows i love a lot, and regardless of what night her game was, she didnt cook tonight and i LITERALLY heard her say less than an hr ago that she’d be cooking tacos (which she intended to originally cook tonight) tomorrow. that being said, her specifically saying she ‘didnt cook’ today when she promised to get takeout in general at some point this week makes me think tonight was just supposed to be tacos (esp if what i think i can remember serves). and now she hasnt cooked anything at all! and tomorrow its gonna be tacos! :) fucking knowing how she is and how she works and functions with her abusive behavior towards me i would not be surprised and am also partially convinced that for whatever reason she’s all DooDoo Angery at me that shes doing this on fucking purpose to deprive me of the treat she promised out of spite/as some kind of passive aggressive ‘punishment’ HAHAHAHA ECKS DEE SO FUNNY XDDD

the only other time shes acknowledged my fucking worthless existence(tm) today was to pull one of her Iconic “im only saying this really ridiculous shit that ive never said before and we’ve never talked about before, ever, just to take digs at my daughter bc she Displeased Me” moments, where she walked by, almost totally ignored me again but stopped like. like she was gonna just keep walking but caught herself and she ended up like...halfway obscured by my doorway anyway and quickly said to me “i need you to sweep.” and then she went to the bathroom and i hear “and take your (cat) poop out too. litterboxes get done every night.”

we have two litterboxes. never in the history of ever has she said anything to me about they get done Every Night >:( and that has never been an established rule, nor have we ever even spoken about me doing that. i do them every few nights, usually on different days, bc there’s Two Litterboxes. and surprise surprise my depression impedes my ability to keep up with them without her having to tell me to clean them most of the time which pisses her off, except i literally did them 1-3 nights ago and theres no way that they both need cleaning again already and now shes suddenly on her shit like. they get done. every night. in that fucking vaguely militant voice she gets when she’s mad like that and is fucking with me on purpose

but fucking like even regardless of all this other shit, point blank, she is the one who has not expressed any of her annoyances with me today to make her act like this. how can i fucking communicate about the issue when she doesnt TELL ME WHAT HER ISSUE IS and instead opts to mentally and emotionally screw with me for her own satisfaction--and even then!!! she has no right to be this mad with me over not helping with the porch bc SHE left it OPEN ENDED and NONCOMMITTAL, SHE could have easily asked me why there were dishes left (though bc i have to do them so late at night/early in the morning bc im fucking depressed shed prolly just blame me FOR doing them at that time bc if i do them TOO LATE at night then the WATER TEMPERATURE GOES DOWN because its COLD AT NIGHT or something like that) but she didnt and now like everything else, fresh off my period, still manic, always rapid cycling, just got off the manic depression train slightly after being on it for two days and then before that it was Severely Uncomfortable Euphoria, feeling just so fucking wrong in my own skin and feeling too many emotions that are too strong that i dont want, so on and so forth, im the one whos suffering because of her unresolved neuroses and narcissism

and like....to be honest, real shit? with how fucking unpredictable and fucky she’s become since our Big Fight i also would not be surprised and sort of have half a mind to think she’s just mad for literally no reason (related to me or otherwise) and is doing this just because lol

[wannawrite]

Don’t I Know You From Somewhere?

PD 101 / YH's Justin X Reader [ fem ] 

part two Fluff Word count: 2571 • you're an idol, Justin is your #1 fan • you meet him at a fansign and tbh he's adorbs so you're hella heart eyes for him ;) • soMehow you land the spot as a guest mentor for PD101 S2 even tho ur like young ( okay I'm sorry anon I had to, it isn't part of the original request but...a bit more of Justin fluff never hurts anyone....right? ) omfg, I love love love love love Justin ?? And my Yuehua boys ?? Yes ?? Bless them ?? Freaking adorable Euiwoong and Hyungseob and Jonghyun was a judge hoW CUTE gOD BLESS anyways, hope you like this anon, even if I modified it a little ok but am i the only one who goes soft for China line im so soft for Jung Jung. I love Jung Jung so much. might make a part two for this as well as • Crushing On You - Kang Daniel drop me feedback - admin L __________ Justin could barely contain his excitement as he clutched tightly onto his copy of your second mini album, shuffling in his spot in the queue. The entire venue was packed, fans buzzed with joy and the energy in the atmosphere was insane. Today was the day that Justin had waited for his entire life as a fan of yours. Today was the day of your fansign. When your fansign was announced, he screamed so loudly the whole Yuehua building trembled. Then, he proceeded to beg his manager to allow him to go. It was tough since he was set to participate in the survival show, Produce 101 a few weeks after but he sweet talked his way through. Once he got the 'okay' from his company, he managed to wrangle his best friend and fellow trainee, Zheng Ting to accompany him. Zheng Ting now stood behind Justin with pink cheeks, mildly embarrassed by his best friend's enthusiasm. I suppose it shows how dedicated of a fan he is.....He spent ages picking out his outfit today. I bet that's his $500 Star Wars shirt he was going to save for Produce 101. Justin even visited the salon to re-dye his hair for today. Oh my god. Zheng Ting was downplaying his own elation for his own sanity's benefit. Sure, he wanted to meet such a great inspiration to him but he wasn't a super die hard fan like Justin. Zheng Ting knew that Justin could practically chemically combust from all his zest, his grin was so wide it was sure to hurt. Oblivious to all the judgmental glares from Zheng Ting, Justin continued to keep his exhilaration levels high. His legs couldn't seem to stay still or root him to the floor properly. Even with his height, he still tip-toed to get a better look at you above the crowd. He sighed dreamily when he caught sight of your hair. Oh my god, Y/N looks so pretty today. She's the perfect idol. There's so much to learn from her. I wish she would look at me. Is this love? The expression on his face was so sheepish and dreamy, Zheng Ting nearly slapped him. "Yah, Justin! Wake up! The line is moving," he hissed. It was entertaining to see the maknae so incredibly spellbound by someone. 

The snaking queue moved listlessly and Justin's patience was running thin. To fuel his energy into something else so that he won't be all jittery, he combed through your photo cards that were included in your mini album, taking them out and reassembling them multiple times. People around him stared at him like he was a lunatic but really, he couldn't care less. Justin clamped a hand over his mouth to cover his yawn, he secretly regretted waking up at the crack of dawn, forcing Zheng Ting to drive them an hour out to the venue at five am and sitting in the queue since seven am. He was lucky he managed to sneak in breakfast and breath mints. Dedications of a fan. He huffed and shuffled along as the line gradually started to move. At least he was getting close to you. ... "Hello, Y/N. How was today's fansign? Everything okay?" Your manager asked, scribbling whatever feedback there was from other staff on her notepad. "Hmm, it went well. Thank you for arranging it. I was happy to be there. But right now, I want to sleep," you admitted with a small groan. Thankfully, your manager was an understanding and kind one, you two got along super well much to everyone's surprise. She laughed and nodded, telling the driver to speed up a little. "Go ahead and sleep. I'll wake you when we reach." Truthfully, you were exhausted but your mind was plagued with thoughts of that handsome blonde fanboy at the fansign. His happiness was infectious, it put a smile on your face when you admired how his curls bounced with that skip in his step. You managed to catch his name, Justin, and you remembered exactly what had happened. It was rare you remembered everything word for word but something compelled you to. He had politely waited until the previous fan had stepped off the stage then, practically dashed up the stairs two at a time. He had run a hand through his curls before blurting out an excited 'Hello!' and bowing, nearly bumping his head on the table. As if he was ashamed, he used his right hand to cover his mouth and the other to pass you his bag of gifts and album. You had asked for his name which he gladly revealed. "I'm Justin." He beamed, revealing perfect pearly whites. "Well, thank you for the letter and the gifts Justin," you had said, shooting him your best cover-worthy smile. Justin couldn't be that much older than you. "You're very handsome." His face had turned beet red and he managed to stammer out a reply before nearly tripping on his way down from the stage. He was the most put together mess of a boy you had ever seen and somehow, you were attracted. It was rare you had male fans your age, cute ones at that. But, he was just fan, a face in the crowd you would have to force yourself to forget. You let out an irritated sigh, wishing it didn't need to be limited by its circumstances. Oh why, why couldn't I have gotten Justin's number or something? All I have is a name and a face I would hate to let go. It was safe to say sleep didn't come easy that night despite how worn out you were by the day's activities. You tossed and turned in your blanket, unable to block that blonde boy from your mind. Maybe it did you a favour by lulling you into a deep sleep and as creepy as it sounds, a dream of him. ... Justin was partially gone from your mind a month later but this morning, you could barely keep your eyes open as stylists bustled about, brushing your hair and whatnot, so once again, you found yourself thinking about him. You wondered what he was up to. Perhaps he was leading a normal teenage life. Going to school. Hanging out at the mall with his friends. All the regular, domestic things. A part of you was envious if he indeed had that kind of lifestyle. Today is going to be sooooo tiring. I just hope nothing terrible happens. Today was the day you were guesting on the survival show, Produce 101 Season 2. A few of your friends had participated in season 1 but so far, you hadn't heard from anyone about the second season. It was only the first week anyway, only one episode had aired but you were too busy to even watch teasers of it. Your role was simple, throughout the next week, you were going to support and supposedly mentor a couple of lower ranked teams as they prepared for their stages. It was a good opportunity for exposure and to make new friends. From what you had seen - or lack of since your van had pulled up to the location at six in the morning - all the contestants seemed to be pleasant. The plan was that you were surprising them with a wakeup call and a special buffet breakfast. ( bc i must feed my boys that's why let me live ) You hoped the directors knew what they were doing. "Y/N? Y/N." Manager unnie's voice shook you from your nap, you blinked bleary-eyed at her. She patted your head and helped you to your feet. "Go wash your face or something. Filming will begin soon." You complied, glad that the long-lasting stage makeup was sealed with a waterproof spray. After refreshing, you swiftly changed into your shooting outfit and followed a bunch of crew members to the dining hall. There, another team was busily preparing the surprise breakfast, probably the most the boys were allowed to eat. ( let them eat properly pls ) You stifled laughs when your mini album blasted through the speakers as an alarm. It could become pretty hilarious to hear your own music in public. When the main director signalled your cue, you raised the microphone - which was connected to the speakers - to your lips and delivered the message in a sickeningly sugary voice. "Good morning to all the gorgeous Produce 101 Season 2 contestants. This is not a drill. Please assemble in the dining hall in half an hour. Failure to comply will result in elimination. I repeat this is not a drill. Please assemble in the dining hall in half an hour. Failure to comply will result in elimination." The last part was a lie. No one would be going home on your watch. ... Oh my god. Is that Y/N's voice? Is that her album? How sweet of her to appear in my dreams. "Justin! Justin! Wake up!" What? Why is she calling me? A pillow smacked his face. "Yah! Justin! Wake up!" Justin shot up, rubbing the sleepiness away from his eyes. He blinked at his roommates. "Why? What is it?" They didn't need to reply as the announcement sounded again. "Attention all Produce 101 Season 2 contestants, good morning! This is not a drill, please assemble in the dining hall in twenty minutes. Failure to comply will result in elimination." His jaw dropped, almost hitting the bottom bunk. "Is-is-is that Y-Y/N sunbaenim?" He stuttered out his question. "Yes! So that is why we need to hurry!" That was all it took. He washed up in a matter of twenty seconds and changed into his best outfit in five. Justin grabbed his training things out of his suitcase and bolted to the dining hall as fast as his legs would carry him, his roommates trailing behind. He needed to see with his own two eyes that it was really you. It was so crowded he was already pushed back to the end of the crowd. Somehow, Euiwoong and Seunghyuk found him, they called for Hyungseob and Zheng Ting to come over. "Is it her? Is it really Y/N?" He asked, lips trembling. Zheng Ting nodded, star-struck. Euiwoong had to hold Justin up to prevent his legs from giving way. He almost started sobbing. Does she remember me? I hope she does. He thought hopefully before sighing in realisation. No, there's no way she would have remembered someone as insignificant as me. Once everyone had arrived, you introduced yourself and explained your arrival. There were yells of jubilation and cheers. Some of the boy's jaws hung open and they had a hand over their mouths. It made you smile and amp up. Justin listened in awe to your motivational speech, he was in a daze the whole time as his friends led him to their usual table. Then, he noticed you were walking around and greeting some of the other boys. He scrambled to grab Euiwoong's arm across the table, almost making his hyung topple his tray of food. "Yah! Justin, are you okay?" Euiwoong was puzzled by his sudden behaviour. Justin frantically shot questions at him. "Is my hair okay?" "Do I smell good?" "How does my sweater look? Cute enough?" Euiwoong rolled his eyes and spooned some rice into Justin's mouth to make him shut up. "You look fine. I bet everyone else is worried about their appearance too. Full offence, these uniforms look awful," he said in a hushed tone. Justin fussed with his hair even more. Meanwhile, you too grabbed a tray and marched around the dining hall with your manager by your side, scanning for a place to sit. Suddenly, you spotted a familiar tuft of blonde hair. Justin? Oh my god, Y/N! Stop being delusional. Stop relating everything back to that......... fan. But your pace quickened as you approached his table, partially because he reminded you a lot of your long time crush who you would most likely never see again. As you neared, his face became more clear and you gasped. Even though the first and supposedly last time you saw him was a month ago, you still could recall what his face looked like. There was no mistaking that this trainee was Justin. Is the boy sitting next to him Zheng Ting? I met him too. It was cute to see Justin brushing his hair repeatedly with his hands. He whined when it still stuck out in different directions, the other participants sitting next to him only made fun of him. Should I address them formally? Are we friends? What if he is older than me? How do I call him? Oh my god, I don't want to be rude. These thoughts filled your head as you drew closer, palms growing all the more clammy. 'Oppa' isn't rude right? ( lmao guys this is such a koreaboo thing for me to add in my works but tbh i just didn't want to sound rude ??? and more realistic, not so Americanised but pls tell me what I should do. I don't want to offend anyone out here ) Should I call him that? I bet Zheng Ting is older though? What if I offend them? Do you want to sit with them or not? Another voice piped up. Yes, but- Just go! It gave you a push which pulled yourself together. Like the confident idol you are, you strutted up to the Yuehua boy's table, showing off your perfectly sculpted legs in the process, and tapped Justin on the shoulder. He spun round to face you and when he realised it was you, his jaw hung open and large eyes grew bigger. "Hi, Justin oppa, do you remember me?" You asked, beaming brightly. Justin was so shocked he couldn't form a coherent sentence. "The world would end if Justin forgot who Y/N is. He is your number one fan. Believe me, his wall in our dorm back at the company is filled with your posters. If-" Seunghyuk was abruptly cut off with a desperate yell from Justin. Zheng Ting shoved another spoonful of rice into his maknae's mouth. "You haven't eaten a thing on your tray." "Hello, Jung Jung oppa, I believe we met too." You bowed out of respect and Justin nearly fell on his knees. "Ahh, it's okay! Sunbaenim!" Gesturing to your tray, you asked if you could sit with them for breakfast. Seunghyuk moved over to sit next to Hyungseob which created a space next to Justin. The boy went red when you slid into the seat next to him, accidentally bumping his arm. "Sorry! I'm sorry!" You exclaimed but he assured you he was fine. Regardless, you grabbed his arm and ran your hand over it. "Are you sure? You can't get hurt!" He couldn't even utter words. Should I? Whatever, I should. You took his arm and slung it over your shoulders before turning back to him, a sultry ( keep it PG you're both kids ) smile on your lips. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Justin cleared his throat and suddenly adopted a blank expression. "My girlfriend is here today." No...... He held up his - well Euiwoong's pocket mirror - to your face. You burst into a fit of giggles. "Nice one, Justin. I knew I could recognise you." Sigh, let's see what happens during this short time of filming. ( this is so bittersweet i’m sorry )