#he cares for himself his friends and his mom and damn the rest at this point

[storms-on-the-horizon]

Dnd ramble in the tags.

[sundrop-writes]

if Mike fell asleep with you...

Word Count: 750

Horror Characters Masterlist

Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.

A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.

...

Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 

He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 

You knew that sound anywhere. 

“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 

He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 

You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 

And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 

As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 

“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 

You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 

Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 

He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 

“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 

It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 

“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 

Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 

“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 

“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 

You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 

He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 

“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 

“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 

You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 

You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 

...

A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 

summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.

He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–

The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.

He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.

But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 

Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”

Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 

Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 

He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.

“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.

“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”

She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 

“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”

“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”

He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”

“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”

Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 

The thought only makes him smile.

“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.

“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”

(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 

Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 

(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”

Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”

He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”

(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”

“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”

(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 

She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 

“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”

“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”

“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–

(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”

Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”

He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.

It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 

“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”

“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”

“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”

Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 

(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  

“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”

“It’s nothin’–”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 

He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 

“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”

(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

A beat. Then–

“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”

(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[talaok]

I NEED some protective pedro. Oh God how about them being in a relationship, had a fight and not talking to each other at that moment, attend a friend's party and pedro taking care of her and making sure she is alright while being mad at her and maybe some cute sexy ending...

Pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

Warnings: the most allusion you can allusion to smut

It wasn't one of those huge important fights that break up couples, it was just a stupid little fight.

You wanted to spend Christmas with your family, and him with his, and neither of you was gonna budge.

Silly, right?

Now the only problem was that this "little" argument, had happened right as you were getting ready to go to a party, which you were now driving to in complete silence.

Not even the radio was on, only him, you, and countless passive-aggressive comments on the tip of your tongue.

The tension in the confined space was more than palpable, and when you finally got out of the car it felt as if you'd been underwater the whole time, and for the first time in twenty minutes, you could finally get a breath of fresh air.

Which, now that you realized, it really was fresh... maybe even a little too much for the dress you chose.

"You're cold" Pedro stated, a clear tint of annoyance in his tone.

The fact that all he needed to do was look at you for a second to understand what you were thinking would have been sweet at any other moment, now it was just irritating.

"take my jacket" he urged, handing it to you without so much as a second glance.

"I don't need it, I'm not cold"

And just as you, he would have found your stubbornness cute if it had been any other time.

"The party is in the garden y/n, you're gonna freeze all night just to prove a point?"

God but did he always sound so condescending?

"fine" you grumbled, begrudgingly putting it on as he started walking to the front door, not even bothering waiting for you.

__ __ __

You spent the rest of the night purposely ignoring each other except for exactly three times (yes you had counted them), the first one was when Margareth, whom you very much despised since the only way she seemed to be able to talk to people was by judging them straight to their faces, had cornered you and forced you to listen to how much better she was then you until Pedro had appeared out of nowhere, and pretended he needed to talk to you just to get you away from her.

You didn't even have time to decide whether you wanted to thank him or not that he'd already gone his way.

The second time was when he saw you trip over a patch of grass out of the corner of his eye and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he just couldn't, so he had to excuse himself from the conversation he was having and reach you to make sure you were alright.

"I'm fine Pedro" you'd rolled your eyes

"Have you drank any water?" 

"Oh my god, I'm not drunk I just tripped" 

And that's exactly why the third time you had talked to each other he had approached with a glass of water.

"I told you I'm not drunk"

"You should still drink this"

"Who are you, my mom?" you'd exhaled dramatically "Oh no that's right, My mom is in New York and I won't get to see her this Christmas because apparently we just have to spend it with your family"

You were lucky nobody was ever around anytime you talked because... sheesh, that would have been embarrassing.

"Just drink this please" he'd insisted with a sigh, and finally, partially because you wanted him to go away and partially because you were actually kind of thirsty, you had accepted with a heavy "fine"

And now you were back at home and back at not talking... except that this damn zipper was stuck and as much as you forced it it just wouldn't go down.

"You need help with that?"

He would have been lying if he said he hadn't been enjoying the show for a while now.

"it's stuck" 

Without another word, he was up from the bed and walked behind you as you stood in front of the mirror.

He put one hand on your waist while the other undid your dress with care.

And now yes you were in the middle of an argument, but you weren't responsible for the warmth that spread inside your body at his touch.

 A soft thud reverberated through the room as your dress fell to the floor and a low "fuck" fled his mouth as he took you in from the mirror.

A long beat passed, and then, as if he'd read your mind he asked "Truce?"

And all you could do was nod

"truce"

[nnnyxie]

it’s cold, please come in.

he is awful with the holidays. having grown up with divorced parents, it was never enjoyable. so when he ditches his family, he finds himself at your porch. (kozume kenma)

warnings; lots of swearing (sorry)

sfw, gender neutral

“this is why we can’t have a normal fucking christmas!” kenma’s mom shouted at his dad. this was typical— they tried having a joined christmas every other year.

and kenma was always forced to attend.

he hated this. he hated the yelling. he hated the arguing. he hated when the throwing would start. luckily, only food.

“you can’t do one damn thing right! look at what you did to our son!” his dad yelled back, picking up a piece of bread and throwing it at the wall. “he’s pathetic!” “i’ve done more than your pitiful ass. i’m a ceo for fuck’s sake! but, you wouldn’t know that because, you’re a damn deadbeat!” kenma finally spoke up— “i fucking hate doing this shit. you’re grown ass adults. so fucking act like it!” kenma stormed out the house as his parents yelled— telling him to come back inside.

kenma would rather freeze than deal with that.

he left his keys, jacket, and phone— not even bothering to go back for them.

kenma walked around the downtown area, every store was closed. aside from a few cheap restaurants.

he felt frustrated still. and cold— very cold. his skin grew tight from it. his lips were also chapped— worse than they had been before.

—

soon, kenma found himself in a neighborhood— one he’s known since his childhood. one he stayed in before his parents had their nasty divorce. one— that has your house. that has the house kuroo once occupied but, now a new family lives in.

he subconsciously walks to your home. it was now owned by you— since your guardians decided to travel.

he knocks— five times, in the secret pattern created by you both and kuroo.

he hears shuffling— a small bang followed by an ‘ow, fuck’. then, the door opens, with you standing in the dark entryway. “ken? what are you doing out here? where’s your jacket!? get inside, now. please, it’s freezing.” you pulled his arm and nearly shoved him inside.

“why were you out there?” “just wanted to go for a walk,” kenma mumbled, taking off his shoes and leaving them near the door. “kenma, i’m serious. was it— was it your parents again?” kenma froze, only for a second. and he nodded. “i’m sorry, ken... i’ll make some tea, go ahead and sit on the couch.” you made your way to the kitchen, being sure to turn on the lights so you don’t run into anything again.

when you returned with the tea, kenma was sat on the couch— with his forearms resting on his knees and his face in his hands. “wanna talk about it ken…?” you put the tea cup on your coffee table, not caring for the coasters at the moment. “i just— they always do this. they know it will end in shit but, they still do it!” he exclaimed, falling back on the couch. “time and time again, i think ‘hey maybe it’ll be better this year’ but, it just never is. i keep giving them chances and— i fucking can’t anymore.” kenma sat up, and picked up the cup of tea. “my dad… he called me pathetic. he isn’t in my life enough to know what i am. he didn’t care enough to remember that i’m— actually successful.” “i’m so sorry ken. i— what can i do? for you?” kenma shrugs, “just— be here. i dunno, i just don’t feel like… being around people… except for you. i guess…” he mumbled into his cup, and took a drink. you whisper an ‘okay’ and sat closer to him.

“thanks for letting me in, by the way.” you quietly laughed at this, “don’t thank me for being a decent person.” “i’m serious… it means a lot… christmas has always been hard… well, christmas eve.” you placed your head on his shoulder, “i get that. but, i’m more than happy to have you here. i don’t want you to feel like you need to thank me. especially for me just doing something for the person i love.” kenma blushed— you’d been friends for years, of course— but, you’ve only ever used that for each other once— twice now. “love?” you nodded and hummed.

“yeah, of course. i love you.”

“i love you too.” kenma smiled, “i love you, love you.” you emphasized the first ‘love you’.

“love me, love me? like— you know…” he spoke shyly. “yeah… like that.” “me too,” he moved closer and shakily placed his hand on yours.

you sat up completely, and looked at him—

“i’m happy i came,” “i am too.” you leaned in and kissed him— just a small, soft kiss.

“merry christmas, kenma.” “merry christmas.”

hey….. projected just a little bit……

anyways.

i hope you all had a good holiday. if any of you dealt with bad family— my heart goes out to you.

i love you all, truly. and please know that blood doesn’t always equal family. family is who treats you with care. family can be your friends. or your friends’ family. family can be your partner and their family. it’s who loves you and handles you gently.

thank you so much for following along and supporting my event.

i love you all. <3

[toxicanonymity]

Halloween anon did mean the latest gif set you reblogged lol. Your writing is so immersive! 🚬💚

Helping stepdad!Joel with his tie

500 / stepdad!Joel x f!reader

Halloween Anon asked: The gif set of Pedro doing his tie makes me think of like stepdad! Joel or DBF!Joel dressing up as the devil or a vampire for Halloween and it gets hot. I needed to tell someone that. / gif from @pedgito / dbf version here

The last time you saw Joel in something other than joggers and a t-shirt was  Halloween.  You came over to ride with your Mom and Joel to a family friend’s Halloween party an hour away.  Your mom wasn’t really dressed up but had an angel halo and wings.  You were in a short, red, bat-print dress and fishnets.  You already sent him a snapchat earlier to which he sent a snap of his hand resting against an obvious bulge in his joggers with the caption,  “Jesus, you really need to wear that?” 

 “Joel, we’re gonna be late!” your Mom called upstairs, then asked you “Would you go see what’s taking him so long?” Meanwhile, your Mom went to take the dog for a walk. 

-

You went up to their bedroom and saw Joel concentrating really hard trying to do his tie in the mirror.  Poor guy probably wears a tie less than once per year. You slinked up and hugged him from behind.    His shirt was stretched over his pecs.

“What are you doin’ in here?” he asked and shrugged you off, looking nervously at the door. 

“She’s walking the dog.  Told me to check on you. Can I help?” 

“No. Still don’t know why the hell you’re wearin’ that, either.”   You wrapped your arms around him again and watched in the mirror as he continued to struggle with the  tie.  He either didn’t want to shrug you off again or was concentrating too hard to care.  

You ran your hand up his stomach then grabbed a pec, and you watched in the mirror as a tent grew in his pants.   

“Can I help with that?”  You slid your other hand lower, but when you got to his belt, he turned around and said. “The tie.  Fine.  You can help with the tie.”  

You took one side of the tie in each hand and pulled him into you.  He looked straight up at the ceiling, getting his head out of the way.  You pressed your nose against his neck and inhaled his balmy aftershave, dragging your nose a few inches.  You felt something hard against your dress. 

“Let’s get on with it,” he said, glancing toward the door again. 

“You’re telling me,” you said. 

“With the tie.  Just finish the damn tie.” 

You finished the tie quite easily.  You started to flip the collar down then said “I kinda like it up.” 

“I look like a vampire with it up,” he replied.  You kind of liked the idea of secretly coordinating with him – you covered in bats, he as a vampire, same color scheme.

You pressed yourself up against him for a hug and he indulged you for a moment.  He inhaled your hair and ran his hand down the back of your dress, grabbing a handful of ass. The hard shape swelled against your dress and made you throb.    

The front door opened downstairs and your Mom was back with the dog. “ALL READY UP THERE?” she screamed.  

“Yep! All good,” you yelled back.  

He put down his collar and grabbed his devil horns which were actually pretty well done  You looked down at his pants and he rolled his eyes and adjusted himself before going downstairs.   

“You sure you need to wear that?” he murmured again on your way downstairs.  

[the-one-that-weeps]

Chubby Project Sekai:

- chubby project sekai where Saki had basically no weight upon coming out of the hospital but now she gets to steal treats from the kitchen and hang out at cafés and restaurants with her friends and cook with her brother and she's gained some.

- chubby project sekai where minori doesn't give a damn about being plump upon telling Airi about her dream and just keeps jumping up and down at practice like she used to. Then when she gets a little self-conscious about it More More Jump help her recover her self-rsteem after how much she's done for them

- Chubby project sekai where Toya always ate bland and tasteless foods that were part of the diet Harumichi made for him or straight up avoided any kinds of meals to avoid confrontation with his father, but now he is getting cooking lessons from Kaito, orders whatever he wants from An at the café, steals Kohane's little treats after practice and goes for a few more sodas past midnight with Akito and the rest of vbs.

- chubby project sekai where Rui was basically a beanpole with more eye bags than face in middle school but after befriending wxs they started taking care of (pressuring) him into eating healthy and getting healthy habits in general and after a few months he finds a few more rings on his belly and can't help but fall in love with all of them more. And himself too.

- chubby project sekai where Mafuyu constantly needed to supervise Kanade's eating and decided to help her composer by sharing meals with her. Obviously she wants Kanade to eat as much as she can, but now she noticed she's also becoming plumper. Kanade doesn't seem to mind, if anything, she's happy to share meals with her lyricist as they discuss the next song. Would her mom mind? Does she mind? She keeps reminiscing about this until she talks to Saki, Minori, Toya, Rui and so many more that have gone through her situation. Her thin smile shifts a little. She'll have to thank niigo once again, she supposed.

[imagine-you]

I'll Be the Vision of Your Happiness (Dallas Winston/Reader)

Summary: "And then there was Dallas Winston. He was a troublemaker through and through and while he spent too much time behind bars for your liking, he also crashed on the couch in your living room often enough that you couldn't help but consider him a part of the fucked up little family you had. He was a rebel and a notorious flirt and had an obvious thing for you. You couldn't take him or his advances seriously, though. Not when he was always looking for his next fight or lay."  Word Count: 5.7k Author's Note: Just a silly, self-indulgent little thing I've had on my mind for years. I finally decided to write because damn it, I had to. Reader is Darry's, Soda's, and Ponyboy's sister. Just a year younger than Darry. Title comes from the song Earth Angel, because that was the title of this fic up until a few moments ago. Huge canon divergence in this fic...because I had to.

Read on AO3

Everyone on your side of town had a rough life, but growing up, you never would have guessed. Your parents had done their best to shield you from the worst of it and it wasn't until they were gone that you realized just how much they did for you and your brothers.  

Even though you were only a year younger than him, Darry tried to take full responsibility for you and your younger brothers. He quit school and got himself a job and then another one when he realized that wasn't going to cut it. When you tried to follow in his footsteps, he chewed you out for trying to ruin your life.  

"You even think of dropping out and so help me--" 

"So you get to bear the weight of all of our worlds on your shoulders, but I can't help? What the fuck, Dar? That's not fair," you argued, knowing that getting Darryl to budge would be near impossible, but you had to try.  

"Watch your language," Darry scolded, shooting you a disapproving glare.  

"You're not dad, Dar," you reminded him. "And just because you're the oldest--" 

"All of you are my responsibility. Who else is going to keep a roof over our heads? Mom and dad are gone and I'm the only one who can take care of the rest of you." 

"That's bullshit and you know it. Listen, I don't have to go to school--" 

"Stop," Darry snapped, his tone final, warning you not to argue. "You're going to school and you're gonna make something of yourself. Got it?" 

You knew it was no use trying to get through Darry's stubbornness, so you continued taking classes, but you would be damned if you didn't contribute. So, you got a job as a waitress on the other side of the train tracks, catering to socs and taking their money to benefit a bunch of greasers.  

Because while you had your brothers, you also couldn't deny that the rest of the gang was your family as well.  

Your not-so-secret favorite of the bunch was Two-Bit, because even though he was constantly mouthing off, he was also someone you knew would always have your back. He used his shoplifting habit to pick up things he thought you would like and while you didn't want to encourage him, you couldn't help but think he was incredibly sweet for someone who was always cracking jokes about everything and everyone. 

Johnny Cade was an absolute sweetheart and even though Ponyboy was the baby of the group, Johnny gave off a youthful innocence that had you wondering half the time how he ended up with a bunch of guys who would rather let their fists win their fights than words. You hated Johnny's parents for not protecting him from the world like they were meant to, so you took it upon yourself to watch out for him when you could and brought him food from the restaurant you worked at, since you knew his parents barely took the time to make sure he was eating enough.   

Steve Randall was Soda's best friend and while you hated the way he was so dismissive of Pony, you tolerated him for Sodapop's sake. It wasn't a secret he wasn't your favorite of the bunch and you had a feeling that the sentiment was mutual.  

And then there was Dallas Winston. He was a troublemaker through and through and while he spent too much time behind bars for your liking, he also crashed on the couch in your living room often enough that you couldn't help but consider him a part of the fucked up little family you had. He was a rebel and a notorious flirt and had an obvious thing for you. You couldn't take him or his advances seriously, though. Not when he was always looking for his next fight or lay.  

It didn't make sense and it was dysfunctional as all get out, but they were your family, and you'd do anything for them.  

The day your life got flipped around for what felt like the thousandth time, you were sitting on the porch steps, reading a book for class. You were drawn from the story of fake identities and counts seeking revenge by your brother's distressed voice.  

"Pony!" You heard Soda yell before he took off. Two-Bit, Johnny, and Steve were right behind him, barely taking a second to hesitate before following your brother into what sounded like a fight.   

You stood, carelessly throwing your book down on the steps, before you rushed toward the sounds of yelling and cursing and punches being thrown. All you managed to catch was the end of the scuffle, surprised to see Dally there, since the last thing you knew he was locked up again. He threw a rock at the socs' car, nearly hitting the back window, sending it skittering across the road as the socs fled.  

It was then you saw Ponyboy, blood welling from a cut on his neck.  

"What the fuck did they do to you?" You hissed, dropping to your knees at your brother's side.  

"They ran him down," Soda answered, tipping Pony's head back to get a better look at the cut. "Shit, Pony," he sighed, wincing at the sight of the blood staining his neck.  

"What the hell were you thinking anyway?" Darry asked, surprising you. You hadn't even seen your older brother approach, but you shouldn't have been surprised that if there was trouble, he wouldn't let it go ignored. "You shouldn't be walking around by yourself." 

"I wanted to see a movie," Pony offered, letting Two-Bit help him to his feet.  

"Movies and books," Darry scoffed, reaching out to tap a finger against Pony's forehead. "You're going to be so caught up in that head of yours one day that you're not gonna see the hit coming." 

"Aw, lay off him," Soda told Darry, starting to lead Pony back to the house. "Those things make him happy."  

"Next time you want to go to the movies, I'll give you a ride," you offered, not liking the idea of your baby brother walking all over town by himself. It wasn't just the socs you had to worry about. There were rowdy greasers and people who wouldn't take too kindly to a greaser walking on their side of town. You didn't want him getting jumped again, so you would do just about anything to prevent it.   

"And next time you need a ride," Dallas started, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "you know where to find me." 

"Dallas," you groaned, pushing him away. "What about Sylvia, huh?" 

Dallas' face scrunched up in annoyance before he shrugged his shoulders. "Cheated on me while I was locked up," he answered before reaching out to ruffle Johnny's hair. "That chick couldn't even wait a few months for me." 

"Shocker," you drawled, ignoring Dallas' noise of protest, before you sat back down on the porch steps and picked up your book.  

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dally asked, indignation in his tone.  

"Nothing. Just...," you trailed off, glancing up at Dallas. "Are you noticing a pattern with the kind of girls you go with?" 

"Well, it's not like you're giving me the time of day. Just say the word, babe," he added with a confident smirk.  

"Alright, can you two stop flirting and just get married already or something already?" Two-Bit joked, bumping into Dallas' side. "I'm sure Pony here would make a great flower girl, though. Leaving a trail of grease down the aisle and everything." 

"Knock it off, Keith," you scolded Two-Bit, grinning when his cheeks flushed red. You were the only one who got away with calling him by his actual name and you only ever used it when you needed him to back off.  

"Yeah, yeah," Two-Bit sighed, turning to look at the rest of the gang. "So, anyone want to do anything fun?" 

"There's a double feature tomorrow night at the drive-in," Pony piped up, ignoring Darry's pointed sigh, before he considered the rest of the gang.  

"I'll go," Johnny volunteered before he looked to Dallas. "What about it, Dally? You in?" 

"Sure," Dallas mused, dropping down onto the porch next to you. "Y/N can drive us." 

You snorted, elbowing Dallas in the side. "That offer stands for my brother and Johnny. You can walk, though," you told him, smirking at him.  

"Ouch," Dallas feigned hurt before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. "C'mon, doll, you really trust me out on these streets? I could get jumped. I could get arrested. I could get killed. Heck, I might just get all three in one night." 

"I know what you're capable of," you told him, not bothering to shake off his arm again, instead going back to your book. "Just this once," you allowed, since you weren't too keen on the idea of Dallas leading your brother all over town, starting trouble and dragging Pony and Johnny right into it.  

"Great," Dallas drawled, squeezing you close to him for a second before letting you go.  

Even though you hated yourself just a little bit for it, you couldn't help but think you liked being tucked against Dallas' side.  

You were able to drop the trio off at the drive-in the next night, but you had to take a reluctant shift at the restaurant, since one of your co-workers had fallen ill. Your boss offered you a little extra cash as an incentive and since Pony was going to need new running shoes for track, you couldn't exactly turn the offer down.   

If you had known what you would come home to, however, you would have told your boss there was no way in hell you were coming in on your day off.  

By the time you got back to the house, you were exhausted and tired and cold. Your feet were killing you and all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget that the world existed for the rest of the night.  

Instead, you came home to Darry sitting silent and still in the armchair by the phone and Soda nervously pacing the floor.  

"What happened?" You asked, stepping cautiously through the front door. "Is someone hurt? In jail? What's going on?" 

"Pony ran off," Soda answered, glancing at Darry, unsure. "He, uh, he got upset." 

"Have you looked for him? He runs fast, but he wouldn't go far. He probably just needs a minute." You weren't sure if you were trying to reassure your brothers or yourself.  

Darry shook his head and you couldn't tell if the expression on his face was one of guilt or anger. Knowing Darry, it was probably both.  

"Look, you two stay here," you told your brothers. "And I'll go look for Pony." 

"I don't like you out there at this time of night by yourself," Darry said, finally breaking his silence.  

"I'll be okay," you assured Darry, thinking of what you had stashed away in the glovebox of your car. The gun was the only reason Darry was okay with you having a job so far from home. It had belonged to your father and after he passed, Darry dug it out from beneath your parent's bed and presented it to you. 'Just in case,' he told you and you knew it was his way of trying to ensure he didn't lose any more family. 

Dallas had been the one to teach you how to use it. He was oddly pissed when he found out Darryl had handed you a gun with no pointers on how to use it. You chalked it up to grief on Darry's part, but Dallas wasn't willing to let it slide. He took it upon himself to make sure you knew how to use and aim it.  

He set up makeshift targets made out of tin cans in an empty field and didn't let you leave until he was positive you wouldn't hurt yourself if you ever had to use the weapon to defend yourself.  

You remembered the way his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping your back pressed firmly to his chest as he whispered in your ear how to gently squeeze the trigger. It shouldn't have made you so hot, but after years of ignoring Dally's advances, you couldn't stop yourself from turning in his embrace and pressing your lips to his. The kiss has been slow and languid, searching and questioning. You didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, it certainly felt like it.  

Of course, your hopes for any future you might have with Dallas Winston were dashed the next day when you saw him flirting with the girl who worked as a cashier at the grocery store halfway across town. You had only been there to pick up some peanut butter and bread after your shift and at first you couldn't quite believe your eyes.  

It was then you realized Dallas was never really going to change and you shouldn't hold out hope that he ever would. You wanted two different things and you told yourself you were okay with that, even though you really weren't.  

"I'll be okay," you repeated, meeting Darry's eyes. "I'll bring him home. Trust me."  

Darry dipped his head in a nod, silently giving you permission to go. You ignored Soda's worried expression as he watched you leave the house, all your thoughts focused on finding your youngest brother and bringing him home. 

You had a hard time focusing on the road before you as you drove down the darkened streets of your neighborhood, searching fervently for Ponyboy. Every minute that passed had you clenching the steering wheel tighter in your hands. Anything could happen to Ponyboy if he was out alone at night and you didn't even want to consider the state you might find him in once you finally laid eyes on him.  

You wanted to find Pony so badly that you weren't sure if the commotion going on at the playground was real or all in your head. But there Pony was with Johnny, going up against four socs. You slammed your foot down on the brake, barely remembering to put the car in park, before you were hastily reaching into the glove box. Your fingers were just wrapping around the handle of the pistol when you saw a soc shove Johnny to the ground before they crowded around Pony, herding him towards the fountain.  

You were out of the car and rushing towards the group by the time they were dunking your little brother's head beneath the water. You could hear the socs laughing and you felt rage pour through your body, sweeping you up along with it. They were trying to kill your brother and they were laughing about it. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. Indignation and panic were rising quickly up your throat and you weren't sure if you were about to start yelling or if you were going to throw up from the stress.  

You could see Johnny picking himself up from the ground, the glint of the knife in his hand catching your attention, and abruptly you knew how this would play out. Johnny would save your brother however he could, but he'd take the fall. Sweet, sensitive Johnny being locked up or worse wasn't something you were about to let happen.  

You raised the gun in the air and fired off a shot without a second thought about any consequences. The socs jumped and the one holding Pony let him go, startling so hard that he bumped into the lip of the fountain and fell to the ground. You saw the other socs stumble and scramble to turn towards you.  

While you had their attention, Johnny darted forward and grabbed Pony by the shoulders, hauling him up out of the fountain. Your brother spluttered, coughing up water and spitting it out onto the ground. 

"Hey," the blonde one slurred, clumsily getting to his feet before making a move towards Johnny.  

"Leave him alone," you shouted, keeping the socs' attention on you. Johnny was busy helping Ponyboy stay upright, patting his back when you brother started coughing up more water, but he kept a fearful, distrustful eye on the socs. "Or the next time I pull the trigger, I'll be aiming at you." 

"C'mon, Bob," one of the socs said. "Let's get out of here," he pleaded with his friend, reaching out to tug on his arm. "She's crazy and she's got a gun." 

"Not until they learn their lesson," Bob snarled, swaying towards your brother and Johnny. "They can't just talk to our girls and think they can get away with it. Not trash like them," he spat, bringing his fist back, as if he was going to aim a punch at Johnny. You saw the flash of rings caught in the streetlights and the absolute fear on Johnny's face and you knew without a doubt this was the soc that had jumped him not long ago.  

You pointed your weapon at Bob, not wanting him to have any doubt that he would be your target should you have to fire again. "Leave," you told him, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were shaking. Your confidence was waning with every second and you didn't want to lose it before the socs were gone. One slip and it was all over.  

"Let's go, man, she's off her rocker," you heard one of the socs mutter before they were all trailing back to their car. Bob looked like he still had half a mind to charge at your brother, even with the weapon pointed at him, but his friend with the curly brown hair kept a tight grip on his arm, towing him away.  

"We can go," you told the boys once you were sure the socs were gone and weren't going to circle back. 

"Y/N--," Johnny started. 

"Not now," you said, shaking your head, still on high alert waiting for headlights and cruel laughter to make a reappearance.  

The car was deathly silent as you drove home, keeping an eye on your rearview motor, while Johnny and Pony sat huddled together in the backseat. You could hear one or both of them shivering, so you drove a little faster, eager to get them back to the warmth and safety of your home.  

When you got back to the house, Soda was sitting on the front steps. He immediately stood up when he noticed your car and took off down the stairs and across the lawn when he noticed Johnny helping Pony out of the backseat. Your hands were trembling and you felt so restless that you knew going into the house would be a mistake. Darry would have questions and he would be gruff and stern and overprotective. Soda would be worried and nervous and you knew Pony and Johnny would be traumatized. You didn't have the energy to deal with all of that, so all you could think about was fleeing to a place where you felt safe.  

To your surprise, only one place came to mind.  

"I'll, uh, I've got something I've gotta do," you told Pony when he shot you a questioning glance. You knew he was wondering why you weren't shutting the car off or getting out. "I'll be home soon." 

"Y/N--," Soda tried to stop you, his brow furrowed with worry as he helped Johnny support Ponyboy.  

You shook your head, cutting him off. He frowned at you before reluctantly shutting the car door, allowing you to drive off.  

Your mind was spinning and you barely had the presence of mind to stuff the gun back into the glovebox. You didn't want Darry giving you the third degree and you didn't want Soda to pace nervously while he shot you what he thought were discreet, worried glances. Johnny and Pony could tell them what happened and Darry and Soda would watch out for them. They didn't need you, you told yourself over and over again. You didn't have to feel guilty for escaping when you needed to. For seeking out the one person who could help you process the events of the night.  

Two-Bit would just fuss over you and you sure as hell weren't going to go to Steve at a moment like this. You didn't realize your mind was fully made up until you found yourself pulling up to Buck Merrill's place.  

"Shit," you groaned, resting your forehead on the steering wheel. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, knowing that this was probably a mistake, before you forced yourself to get out of the car. You let your feet carry you to the front door while your mind spiraled through all the ways this could go wrong.  

"Yeah?" You heard someone ask, breaking you out of your trance.  

"Uh, hey," you managed to get out, recognizing Buck. "Is Dallas here?" 

Buck looked you up and down, leaning against the doorframe, as if keeping you from getting a good look at his place or who might be inside. "Who's asking?" 

"Just tell him it's Y/N, alright? He'll want to see me." It was a bluff and you suddenly had the striking fear that Dallas wasn't spending the night alone. What if he had a date? What if you were interrupting something? 

"Stay here," Buck's gruff voice pulled you out of your panic.  

You nodded your head, nervously tapping your fingers against your thigh as Buck shut the door on you. 

It wasn't long before you could see Dallas approach the door through the front window. He looked confused as he yelled something at Buck over his shoulder before he opened the door. His hair was sleep rumpled and there was a bruise blooming on his jaw, making you wonder if it was from a fist or a pair of lips.  

"Y/N? Do you know what time it is? What the hell is going on?" Dallas took a closer look at you before he seemed to notice the state you were in. You could feel yourself beginning to shake and you weren't sure if it was from the chill in the air or from shock. "Jesus, come on, get inside," he ordered, stepping aside to give you room to get past him. 

Dallas ushered you inside before leading you up the stairs and into a bedroom. The covers were rumpled and the pillow was halfway off the bed, as if Dallas had messed it up trying to get out of bed, but there was no sign that another person had been with him. You felt relieved for a brief, confusing moment, before the shock you had been fighting off hit you.  

"What's going on? You look spooked," Dallas observed, his brows furrowing in concern. 

You took a deep breath before you stumbled towards the bed. You dropped down onto the edge of it, fighting the urge to hide your face from Dallas so he wouldn't see you cry.   

"Johnny and Pony got into some trouble tonight."  

You knew Dally had a soft spot for Johnny and once he heard his name, his face drew tight in anger. You knew he was fearing the worst and while you had definitely avoided the worst-case scenario that night, you were having trouble trying to explain that at the moment. 

"Was it the socs again? They didn't get him, did they? Fuck, they're so dead this time." 

"Not really," you explained. "But they almost killed Pony. He could've died tonight, Dal." You could feel a sob working its way up your throat and you weren't sure if you would be able to stop it. You weren't all that surprised when you started rambling, instead. "They were trying to drown Pony and Johnny had a knife and I didn't know what to do, so I took the gun--" 

"Did you shoot one of 'em?" Dallas asked and from the calculating look on his face, you were sure he was already thinking of a dozen different escape plans that would have you running from the law and trying to evade a murder charge.  

"No, but I almost had to. They wouldn't back off and he was going to die, Dal. I could've lost my brother tonight. If I hadn't been there in time who knows what could have happened." You thought of Johnny and his knife and the determined glint in his eyes. "It could've been so much worse." 

"It's alright," Dallas soothed, dropping down to sit at your side. "You got there and you stopped them. That's what matters, right? And we'll make them pay for what they did. They can't just get away with it. They always get away with it and then we're the ones getting locked up because we don't have their connections."  

"I don't want you getting into any trouble. Not again," you told him, hating the thought of Dallas going away yet again.  

"I won't, doll," he said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. You shivered and pressed closer against him, noticing the way his breath hitched.  

You turned your head to look at him, noticing the way his eyes dipped to consider your lips before meeting your eyes. All you could think about was that of all the places you could've run to, you went right to Dallas. It only felt right and after all this time of running away from him, when you couldn't deny how you felt any longer, you ended up right in his arms. Maybe it was where you should have been all along.  

"I don't want to get myself into any trouble either," you found yourself saying, focusing on Dallas' eyes and how he was zeroed in on you.  

"So, I'm trouble?" His lips quirked up in a smirk and you couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped you.  

"You always have been. But maybe...," you trailed off, considering him. "But maybe I just don't care anymore," you said before you leaned forward and let your lips brush against his. Your hands were still shaking and you couldn't wrap your head around what almost happened to your brother, but you knew one thing. Dallas was where you turned when you felt unsafe and all you wanted at that moment was to be with him. You felt like nothing could go wrong as long as he was with you, holding you, pressed against you. So, you leaned into him, pouring every insecurity and fear into the kiss and letting him take them from you.  

You were tempted to spend the night with Dallas, but you only stayed for another few minutes. At some point during the kiss, Dallas had drawn away and simply pulled you close, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He kept his arm tucked tight around your waist, a silent assurance that he had you.  

"I should go," you sighed, closing your eyes against the urge to look up at Dallas. You knew it would be hard to leave him, but it was something you had to do. Your brothers were probably worried sick about you and you didn't want to make them worry any longer.  

"You could stay," he offered. "Bed's big enough for two." 

"Darry would kill me," you told him. "Especially since i just drove off without a word once I dropped off Pony and Johnny." 

"Your big brother worries too much," Dallas complained before he reluctantly let you go.  

"He does," you agreed before taking a moment to kiss Dallas again. This one was quick and brief, a thanks for giving you refuge to sort yourself out, before you stood up. "I'll see you later," you promised. 

"Later," Dallas agreed, not bothering to get off the bed as you walked out.  

You figured it was better that way. If Dallas followed you, you'd have a hell of a lot harder time leaving him.  

Johnny was fast asleep on the couch when you wandered back into the house and Pony and Soda were both in bed, but you weren't surprised that Darry was waiting for you.  

"Where the hell did you go," he said, not bothering to phrase it as a question, but more of a demand for an answer.  

"I went to a friend's," you told him, completely aware of how much more he would worry if he found out you were with Dallas instead of staying home. "How are they?" You asked, gesturing towards where Johnny was still fast asleep on the couch.  

"Scared. Shaken up. They told us what happened." Darryl sighed, his shoulders releasing some of their tension. "It could have been a lot worse. I'm glad you got to them in time." 

"Yeah," you agreed, releasing a long breath. Your mind was finally starting to catch up to the fact that you were completely safe now. The adrenaline from the night was wearing and exhaustion was fast approaching to take its place. "I'm tired," you couldn't help but say, not even sure if you had the energy to drag yourself to bed. You thought for a fleeting moment of Dallas and his bed and the fact that you could have been sharing it with him right about now. But you knew it had been the right decision to go home, even if it wasn't completely what you had wanted.  

"Go to bed. We'll talk more tomorrow." Darry walked towards you, leaving his arms open for you to slip into his embrace. "Don't scare me like that again, alright?" He asked before he let you go. "I understand, but after everything we've been through...," he let the end of his sentence go unsaid, letting you mentally finish it yourself. "Love you, kid." 

"I'm only a year younger," you reminded him, fighting off the urge to roll your eyes.  

"Sure," he agreed with a grin. "Now, go on. Get some rest." 

"Thanks, Darry," you managed to say around a yawn before you went off to bed.  

You went to bed that night thinking about Dally and woke that morning worried about Dally. Tensions between the socs and greasers around town were swiftly rising and you knew that it would come to some kind of fight. It always came to a fight when class differences were involved and you hated that the people you loved most were being painted as the enemies.  

You knew it would come to a head sooner or later, but you didn't entirely expect for it to happen so soon.  

Within a week, everyone was on edge. Two-bit got followed walking to get some ice cream and Dally got jumped by three socs just outside a gas station. Thankfully it was the one Soda and Steve worked at, and while they almost got fired for the fight, all three of them managed to make it out nearly completely unscathed.  

You knew it would only get worse, so you weren't surprised when word of a rumble between the two groups started floating around.  

"No. Absolutely not," you argued once Dally told you he was set on fighting in the rumble "It's bad enough my brothers want to, but come on, Dallas. You never know when to stop and you're gonna end up in jail. Again," you added after a moment of thought. "It's all I can not to get Ponyboy mixed up in all of this, but now I've got to worry about you too? What're we going to do if you get locked up?"  

The thing between you was still fragile and new. You kept waiting for him to flirt around and he seemed to think you were going to change your mind. Despite that, it still felt incredibly exhilarating every time you were wrapped up in his arms and while you hadn't told anyone else that the two of you were an item, you knew it would happen once the both of you felt more settled in your relationship. 

"Well," he mused as he moved towards you, "guess you better wait for me." He reached up and behind his neck, unlatching his Saint Chrisopher necklace. "You'll keep this safe for me, then, won't you?" 

You knew what the necklace meant to Dally and you knew what it meant that he was giving it to you. He carried it with him for the protection and safekeeping he thought it gave him and if he was giving it to you, then he must have trusted you a hell of a lot more than you realized.  

"The last girl I was with, I gave her my ring, but I shouldn't have trusted her. I knew I should've waited for the right one." He let his lips twist up into a smile as you turned, letting your back face him. "And I've been waiting a long time for you, doll," Dallas said, his voice going lower, as if he was worried anyone but you would hear the words. He reverently brought the necklace up over your head and let it rest around your neck, taking care to make sure your hair didn't get caught up in the clasp as he closed it.  

"I'll take good care of it," you promised. "But you better not end up in jail. I've got plans for us, Dallas Winston," you told him as you turned to face him yet again. You could feel the medallion against your skin and you knew it was a promise and a declaration all in one.  

Dallas wanted to be with you and he wasn't about to go seeking out anyone else to fill his time or his bed. And once the guys realized you of all people were wearing Dallas' necklace, then they were soon to put the pieces together.  

"Oh yeah? Well, guess I better make sure I'm around for them," Dallas said, a smile still on his face as he considered you. You didn't remember the last time you had seen him so pleased and the fact that you were the reason for his happiness was downright intoxicating.    

You couldn't help but laugh, delighted and enthralled with Dallas as you pulled him into a kiss.  

Maybe your side of town would always be a little bit rough and maybe there was always a fight brewing, but you figured maybe it wasn't so bad as long as you had your family of greasers and Dallas Winston's arms around you. Maybe you didn't need money or connections or a fancy school to be happy.  

You already had all you needed and you would be damned if you were ever going to let it go. 

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Ok ok hear me out, the turtle brothers and the reader on Christmas?

Don’t forget to take care of yourself! Get food, water, and rest! You are wonderful and amazing! Happy holidays! 💕

🎄🎁

💜💙🧡❤️🐢

Christmas Crush Stories (Fluff)

2003!Turtles x reader

A/N: So, I am Danish, and we celebrate Christmas on the 24th, which is tonight. I don’t know a lot about American Christmas food or traditions, but I’ll see what I can do. So here’s a quick one before the family gets here💙❤️💜🧡🐢 PS. It started snowing big time as soon as I started writing this😂💚

--------------

Some small Christmas stories with the turtles and you, their crush💚

Warnings: Christmas fluff and chaos🎄

--------------

Leonardo:

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”, Leo asked as he watched you, standing on top of an impossibly tall ladder, all to decorate a damn Christmas tree. Who’s idea was it anyway to get a tree so tall, that not even the ladder could reach the top? If Leo could find them he would give them a stern scolding. Just because it was a long way to the ceiling of the lair, that didn’t mean their tree should go up all the way! “It’s a far drop, (Y/N)”.

“I got it, mom”, you teased, poking out your tongue at him, making him cross his arms. You knew very well that Leo only meant the best, and that he was only looking out for your well being. “Besides”, you continued, picking out another brightly coloured glass orb to place on the tree. “Someone has to decorate the tree”.

“I would much rather have a naked Christmas tree than you getting injured”, the leader in blue retorted, looking unimpressed at the tree. How dare it be the reason you would put yourself in danger.

“Relax, Leo”, you said, closing your eyes as you rolled them, causing him to uncross his arm, ready to catch you in case you would fall. Okay, maybe he was a worry hen, but closing your eyes was a recipe for disaster! “Nothing is going to happen. I’m a grown woman! I don’t fall from a ladder. Have you seen me in high heels?”

“Yeah, but when you fall while fearing high heels, the fall wouldn’t break your bones”, Leo said, feeling himself getting more and more anxious.

“I’m not gonna fall, Leo”, you sighed, getting just slightly more frustrated. In the beginning his worries were cute, but now they were starting to plant the first roots of irritation. You let go of the ladder to place your hands on your hips. “Will you please stop worrying? I’m not a child-”.

You and your big mouth. Of course the ladder shook under you, causing you to yelp in surprise and lose your balance. It happened so fast. You fell off the tall ladder, plummeting towards the ground in what felt like less of a second. Leo was just as fast, having seen this situation happening a million miles away. He was ready right underneath you, catching with ease, holding you in a bridal style. Your face burned hot under Leo’s gaze, not just from the fall, but the close proximity of his face to yours.

“Are you still sure it’s a good idea?”, he asked, letting a smug smile show.

Raphael:

“You don’t get to hawk the mistletoe all day”, Raphael grumbled at Casey, as April walked away from him one more time. Casey sighed, having hoped that this was the way to finally get a kiss from her. And it didn’t help that his red clad terrapin friend was now bugging him. “Some of us also have plans for tonight”.

“Good luck”, Casey said, stepping out from under the mistletoe on the clothing line, hand on his head, thinking of a new way to gain April’s attention. “If (Y/N) is anything like April, the only kiss you’ll get is a knuckle kiss”.

“I’ll manage”, Raph smiled as he jumped to get the mistletoe down from the clothing line, before setting out to find his long time crush; you.

You weren’t very hard to find, as you had been in the kitchen most of the day, making dinner with Mikey, Splinter and some of the turtle’s other guests. Raph managed to catch you, right as you were leaving the kitchen, trapping you in the doorway, his sudden appearance making you jump back in surprise.

“Long day, (Y/N)?”, he asked, a friendly smile on his lips. Goodness, he hoped that this would work. You still didn’t seem to have noticed the mistletoe he was holding over your head.

“Obviously, Raphael”, you said, sounding a little bitter. Oh, crud. That hadn’t been part of Raph’s plan. “I have been in the kitchen all day, and have you been helping? No! Your brother and father have been so nice to help me, but you? No! You have been playing mistletoe hunt with Casey and April!”

“Uhm… (Y/N)”.

“Christmas Eve is tonight, Raphael, and it would be nice with some help!”

“(Y/N)...”

“What?!” Raphael pointed towards the mistletoe in his hand above your head. The sight making your blood boil once more. “So that’s why you wanted to talk! I’m working my ass off in the kitchen, and you want to kiss!?”

“N- no, (Y/N), that was not-”.

“Come here you!”

But before you could manage to land any punches, Raphael started running, with you closely following on his heels. Casey saw this and started clapping his knees in laughter.

“I told you, Raph! Hahaha!”

Donatello:

“Did you know that in Denmark, they eat duck instead of turkey for Christmas?”, Donatello said, watching you and April work in the kitchen. Or you, more specifically. Sweet Donnie had been walking after you all day like a lost puppy, spouting random facts about Christmas, all in an attempt to keep your attention on him. Poor fellow didn’t seem to know any other way of doing so.

“Is that so?”, you asked with a small smile. You knew about Donnie’s little crush on you, and you had to admit that you found it very adorable. He would blabber about whatever small fact he had learned, sharing everything he knew with you. And you enjoyed every minute of it.

“Yeah”, Donnie said, smiling bright at your interest in his small facts. “They also eat something called browned potatoes, which is like caramelized potatoes made with butter and brown sugar”.

“Okay, that actually sounds pretty good”, you said.

“Yeah, it does”, Donnie smiled. And then he continued on with his many random facts and information. Like said before, you enjoyed every minute of it. You liked having Donatello around, and to be honest, you love hearing him talk. But April, not so much. You see and feel how she was growing more and more frustrated with Donnie’s continuous talking. So you decided to take action into your own hands.

“Hey, Donnie”, you said, causing him to stop in the middle of whatever he was saying.

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Can you keep an eye on these for me?”, you asked, pointing towards the boiling potatoes on the stove.

“Of course!”, Donnie said, stepping in beside you to take a look at the potatoes. That was when you leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek. Donnie let out a sound of surprise, before placing a hand on where your lips had met his skin. He turned to look at you with wide eyes. “W- what was that for?”, Donnie asked, his face burning hot.

“Well, in Denmark, when someone helps you in the kitchen during Christmas, you’re supposed to kiss them”, you smiled with a shrug.

“R- really?”, Donnie said, a smile spreading on his blushing face.

“No”, you laughed, placing your chin on his shoulder. “I made that up. But you did really look like one that could use a kiss”.

“Well, I think I could use more than one”, Donnie mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“Then I guess I’ll have to catch you under the mistletoe”, you said.

That comment caused Donatello to leave the kitchen in a hurry, screaming and yelling. “Casey! Raph! Quit playing around! I need that mistletoe!”

Michelangelo:

“Drop the snowball, young lady! Or you will be arrested!”, Mikey yelled at you from behind a tree, his beanie and scarf almost covering his face.

It was almost Christmas. The snow was laying in a thick layer in Central Park, so you and your best friend Michelangelo decided it was the perfect opportunity to take a night stroll through the park. But with you and Mikey being the way you were, that stroll had pretty quickly ended up in a snowball fight. It had now turned into you having backed Mikey into a corner behind the tree, searching and praying for an opening in your attack.

“It will take more than the turtle police to get me!”, you yelled back with a laugh, throwing the snowball just as Mikey looked out from behind the tree. He managed to duck, just as the ball flew past his face.

“Turtle police?! It is the Turtle Titan you’re talking to!”, he yelled, throwing a snowball blindly in your direction. You dodged that with ease.

“Is that so?”, you asked in a teasing manner. “Then come and get me, oh mighty Turtle Titan!”

That was the opening and motivation Mikey needed, He jumped out from behind the tree, dodging the balls you threw his way. “By the power of the mighty Turtle Titan, you’re going down, (Y/N)!” And with that he started running after you.

You yelped and started running in the opposite direction. But Mikey and his mighty ninja skills and trained legs managed to catch up with you easily. But even a trained ninja would not fight the power of an icy path. Mikey slipped and yelled, causing you to turn just in time before he fell on top of you, causing both of you to fall to the ground. Your back against the ground with Mikey on top of you.

“What was that for?”, you asked.

“I thought you would like to make snow angels”, Mikey smiled down at you.

“If that’s the case, then why are you still on top of me?”, you teased.

“I don’t know. You seemed cold”, he said. You caught him looking down at your lips for a second, causing you to sigh loudly.

“If I kiss you, will you get off?”

“Yes ma’am!”

[bengiyo]

Ossan's Love Returns Ep 7 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Haruta and Maki finally got married! Haruta struggled with nerves before the wedding, and Maki struggled with balancing work and wedding planning (complicated by Kurosawa’s involvement as always). Kurosawa, Takegawa, Izumi, and Kiku all struggled with the events of this wedding, and brought a somber energy to the event that was so heavy. Despite having their beautiful day, we left on the Chief coughing up blood in the bathroom.

I like picking up with the wedding photos and giggling about them.

Why did that noise come out of Izumi??

Takegawa pushing his poly agenda. Sir, the fans are with you if the fic is any indication.

For a second I thought this man was really writing drug prescriptions and I was so alarmed.

Chizu, noo!! The squad is in crisis! I’ve been here before, though. Did not know I was registered at a friend’s nursery and got the call to pick up one of the kids.

I’m very emotional about the pickling jar.

Wow, their house isn’t childproof at all. Rest in the pepperonis, babes.

Episode 7: How Will You Live?

Damn, Chief, how stressed are you that you’re vomiting blood? Did they give him any kind of treatment plan??

Oh, Chizu. I love having Kurosawa in the story because everyone feels like they can trust him with their insecurities. Still, we can’t let the Chief hurt himself also trying to care for Goro.

Takegawa is always so much. I loved Maki’s face journey before letting this man in. I’m excited to see where this Goro plotline goes if Maki doesn’t like having kids around.

Oh, Kurosawa, I really hope you work through this. I am rooting for you.

Yes, Choko! Intervene! Kurosawa is not well!

Goddammit, they’re gonna bridge the Kurosawa health plot with the cop plot.

I love that they didn’t cast other actors to play young Choko or Musasshi.

There might be something wrong with one of his lungs!!!

Good job, Kiku. It’s about time we got this out in the open.

Nah, I’m crying with Haruta, too. When Maika said they’re a family of six, that got me, especially after Goro cleaned his mom’s shoes. That kid knows how hard his mom works.

One month left? Until what???

What is all this goodbye talk in the next episode???

I really appreciate the moment where Maki was carrying a sleepy Goro back to their house and you saw the shift occur in him about how he views kids. I don’t need them to have kids or adopt, but I like that Maki worked through his issue about kids on his own and managed to form a team with Haruta to help their friend. Goro seems like a kid who appreciates the amount of people who love him. I don’t know what’s left for Izumi and Kiku, but I’m glad Kiku made his feelings known, but I don’t think this revenge plot is over just because the guy was arrested. I’m also so nervous about Kurosawa, because that man is not well and only Choko knows.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Sweater Shopping

kai parker x bonnie bennett

summary: bonnie needs to buy a new sweater for the holiday season. kai, much to her annoyance, invites himself along.

tags: thanksgiving, autumn, not canon compliant, enemies to friends

word count: 2k

a/n: working on several different things, but in the midst of those, decided i needed a cheesy bonkai fluff-ish piece, so here's one

When Bonnie hears the passenger door shut after closing her own, she sighs. She does, however, thank the higher power above for getting her to the mall safely, considering her travel buddy has been known to attack people from the backseat of their cars. 

The boy in question smiles at her as he approaches. He puts his phone in his pocket and follows her across the road. 

Bonnie glances at him from the corner of her eye. “When I said I forgive you, I did not mean that we would be friends. And I certainly did not mean you could follow me around everywhere.”

Kai kicks a pebble across the pavement, but doesn’t answer. 

“Why did you even come with me? The mall is the last place I’d ever think you’d want to be.”

“I don’t see it as a place you’d be, either.”

“I need a new top for the holidays. My mom wants me to come over for Thanksgiving, and all my sweaters are looking pretty rough.”

“Ah.”

Bonnie lets her feet carry her to her old favorite store. She hasn’t visited in ages, but she and Elena and Caroline used to go all the time together. 

“So where’s your mom live? What’s she do?”

The girl turns to give him a sharp look. “Why do you care?”

“Damn, just curious, okay? You always talk about your Grams. I don’t know anything about your mom.”

“You don’t know anything about me, either.”

Kai clicks his tongue. “I know more than you think.”

“Ugh.” She turns back to watch where she’s going. 

“Okay, look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.”

“Then stop talking.”

He opens his mouth again, but then promptly shuts it. 

Satisfied, Bonnie turns the corner into the store. “If you’re gonna be here, stay close. Don’t need you wandering off and killing someone,” she mutters.

Kai nods, mouth still sealed. 

For the next ten minutes as she browses, he lurks a good five feet away at all times. With time, though, he starts to pick up on what kind of sweater she’s looking for, and to her indignation, offers some options. 

“Bon.”

“What?”

He lifts up a pastel blue one.

“No.”

“This?” A green with a frilly collar. 

“No.”

“This?” Now, it’s a maroon with a lower neckline. 

She sighs, ready to snap, but then kind of likes that option. “Maybe.”

Kai, smiling, loops it around his arm to keep for her. 

After she’s collected five or six options, she searches for the dressing room. Kai follows her into the section, but when her hand reaches for the knob into the actual room, she turns to him. 

“Stay.” Like a troublemaking dog. 

To her surprise, he does. 

Kai waits patiently, tapping his boot heel on the wooden floor, while she changes. His eyes are trained on the door, curious, but not daring to ask any questions. 

Bonnie, meanwhile, stares at herself in the mirror. She isn’t sure how she likes the pink-ish, argyle fit, and crinkles her nose with uncertainty. She sighs, then snaps a picture to send to Caroline. For three minutes, she waits for a reply. After nothing, she caves. 

“Hey,” she opens the door slightly and catches Kai’s attention.

His gaze is on her immediately. “Hi.”

“I need you to tell me how this looks. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Okay.” His heart races with excitement. 

Bonnie opens the door wider to show him the whole top. Kai tries not to stare, and more importantly, tries to form an appropriate reaction that doesn’t include stuttering.

The sweater is cute, and matches the rest of her outfit well, but doesn’t seem like her style. 

“I like the color, I’m just not digging it,” Bonnie explains. 

Kai then nods. “It doesn’t seem like you.”

“Okay. Putting it in the ‘no’ pile.”

She shuts the door. 

Two minutes later, she opens the door again. “Opinion?”

It’s a plain forest green, although with tiny green sparkles throughout it. Again, she looks beautiful, but it’s still not a match. 

“I don’t like it,” she states. 

“I don’t dislike it, but I think you could find something better.”

She gives a short nod. “‘No’ pile.”

By the third time, Kai’s expecting her. The first two times, he was caught off guard, but now he waits eagerly to see the next option. 

“Red,” she announces. It’s more of a maroon, but Kai doesn’t correct her. “Might look good with some gold jewelry.”

He smiles in agreement. “I like it. Gold would match well.”

“It’s a little big in the shoulders.”

“I didn’t notice until you pointed it out. But it gives it kind of a comfy look.”

Bonnie seems to like that answer. She smiles a little before poking her head back into the room. 

In a minute’s time, she presents another. “This one’s cool.”

Kai agrees immediately. This option has a criss-cross design across the top, exposing her chest just a little. Half of it is gray, but it’s an ombre into black at the bottom. 

“Here’s the back.” She turns so he can see the ombre from the other side. 

His breath hitches in his throat at how well fits her perfect body. The whole top is slightly cropped, too, showing off her tight jeans. “Um,” he stutters. He tears his eyes away as she turns back to face him. If he hadn’t known better, she did that on purpose. 

“Opinion?”

“Maybe not to wear at your mom’s. But you should get it anyway because it looks really good on you.”

Bonnie looks in the mirror at her figure. “I see what you mean. Maybe I’ll just get it for fun.”

“You should.”

A small smirk tugs on the edge of her lips. She definitely did that on purpose. 

“Okay. Two more choices.”

Kai’s foot taps harder against the wood as his mind clings to the image of her. She laughs to herself, having no idea why she decided to tease the boy, but is certainly having fun doing it. 

“Alright, your pick.”

It’s one of the ones he lifted up for her. Another maroon option, though with a v-neck that’s slightly off the shoulders. It fits well, hugging her body, but not too much. There’s no pattern or design, but she kind of likes it that way. 

“I think I already have a pair of earrings that would go with it.”

Kai smiles. “It looks nice on you.”

“It’s very soft, too.” 

Unexpectedly, she steps out of the room for him to touch. He leans forward to feel the cashmere material. The softness of it makes him relax, visibly, as he stops tapping his foot. 

“Comfortable.”

“Very. Alright, I have one more.”

Kai pulls his hand away, but can still feel the threads lingering on his skin. He waits patiently for the last one. 

It’s plain black, again with the argyle design, but without any frill. Bonnie likes it, but it doesn’t stand out in the way the others did. 

“Opinion?”

Funnily enough, Kai’s thoughts on it match her own. “Looks good, but I like the other ones better. Color suits you.”

That comment makes her smile. “Okay. So which of the maroons, then? The slightly baggier one, or the slight v-neck one?” Kai ponders her question for a moment. Meanwhile, she continues, “I like both, but with the first maroon, I’d have to buy gold jewelry. But with the second one, my bra strap shows a little.”

“So what?” Kai says without thinking. “Girls wear bras.”

Bonnie actually laughs. “Yeah, but I’m seeing my mom. Whom I don’t know all that well when it comes to her opinions of clothes.”

Kai bites his lip. “You look gorgeous in both of them.” 

She searches his face, taken off guard by the comment, but finds complete sincerity. “Thank you.”

He only nods. “Which is more comfortable?”

“I like them both. Though that cashmere is tempting. And the price isn’t outrageous.”

“I felt like you’d like it because you seem to always wear lower necklines or v-necks.” 

She thinks about that. “I do, yeah. I don’t like the feeling of clothes being tight around my neck.” She pauses. “Alright. I’m going with the second one. Plus I already have jewelry for it.”

“Are you still getting the ombre one for fun?”

Bonnie stops abruptly at his question. “How do you know what ombre is?!”

“I have a sister! I know these things.”

“Hm. Not a lot of boys would know terms like that.”

“Jo and I used to be close,” he reveals, “I remember some of the hairstyles and colors she used to pull off.”

The thought makes the girl laugh. She likes this more human side of Kai. A far cry from the sociopathic, alien-like creature she knew in the prison world. Maybe all it took to see it was for Bonnie to give him a chance. 

“Alright, then.” She smiles. “And yes, I’m getting both.”

The next time she hears her passenger door shut, she finds herself glad that the little troublemaker came along. She got to see a different side of him, and actually enjoyed his company. He came in handy, too, with his opinions on the sweaters. Caroline hadn’t answered until they were in the check-out line. 

“Mhhhmmm, pink’s kinda more my color,” her text said, “maybe there’s a maroon?”

Bonnie showed Kai the text with a smile. 

She replied to the girl, “got a maroon one, thanks!”

What she neglected to say was that Kai picked it out for her. She kept that little tidbit to herself, as well as the fact that she had fun with him. To Bonnie’s knowledge, though, Caroline doesn’t even know the little weasel slipped into her car in the first place. 

“So…” the weasel in question starts, “what day are you going to your mom’s?”

“Two days before the actual day of Thanksgiving. She knows I have Friendsgiving here on the actual day, and she knows my best friends are closer to me than she is.”

“Ah.”

“So I’m driving down that day, but then staying the night, then driving back in the morning-ish. She lives in North Carolina,” Bonnie finally reveals.

“Oh. Are you, uh, going by yourself? Like, Elena coming with you, or something? That’s quite a drive.”

“It is, but no.”

“Damon?”

“Hell no. She hates him. He’s the one who turned her.”

“Oh,” Kai repeats, then, quieter, “shit.”

“Yeah. So just me.”

“Can I go with you?”

“What?!”

“I don’t know, just asking. Keep you company.”

“I’m not sure, Kai…” Yes, she had fun today, but to spend a four hour drive with him? And to introduce him to her mom? She’s not sure about that. 

“It’s okay,” he says quickly, “I get it.”

“I just…” She makes the mistake of looking over at him. His eyes look slightly sad, the skin underneath tinted with bags. His hands are clasped in his lap, unusually still. “Tell you what… we still have a good week and a half until then. If you are good, and promise to be on your best behavior around my mom, maybe I’ll let you come with me.”

“Wait, really?”

“Since you picked out such a nice sweater for me to wear,” she jokes. 

“I promise I’ll be good. I won’t even bug Damon for fun.”

“You better not.”

Kai’s quiet, though internally very excited. Then, after a moment, he asks, “does this make us friends?”

Bonnie sighs. “Guess it sets us on the path to friendship. If you can promise to be good,” she reiterates one more time. 

The boy smiles one more time. “Yes!” He mutters, lowkey fist pumping the air. 

Bonnie watches him, hoping she made the right decision. Truthfully, he has been a lot better to her and her friends lately. Maybe he’s grateful for the accidental second chance he got when they realized they needed his magic to return from 1903. Or, maybe, it’s Bonnie seeing him in a different way now that he’s seemed to settle down. Either way, it would be easier to be friends, rather than enemies, with Kai, and maybe, she’ll learn she wants him that way, too. 

[heartfullofleeches]

New characters reactions to y/n falling asleep on them?

I assume you mean Delvin and the milks so here we go (adding the weed plants because I can so implied drug warnings there)

Devlin

The struggles are real. While he does feel fatigue, Devlin often avoids sleeping as any drawbacks are handled by his immortality. He also has trouble sitting still for long - but damn you look cute passed out on his shoulder. At best he snaps a dozen pictures or so. Worse he's gently poking and prodding at you to see if you flinch. If theres a marker or pen laying around, you'll wake up looking like a lovesick, albeit terrible artist's walking museum.

Plant Monsters

As there is a high chance they'll be the cause of your drowsiness and the electronics stolen from your neighbors, these plants first priority is making sure you'll be a functioning person when you get up... till you try to leave. They leave water bottles and snacks within reach of you, cushion your body with theirs and commence a snuggle pile that doesn't let up even once you awake.

Mint Milk

Gives you your rest... mostly. Life's hard sometimes. If you want to use them as your mattress they have no choice but to comply. Mint is a bit of a watcher though. Hard not to be when you've got a cutie on your shoulder and the world just feels like everything's clicked. There's also the whole thing of casting your hand for various reasons, but what you don't know doesn't hurt you

Oat Milk

Precious angel. Your kind and loving Oat Milk will take good care of you during your rest. She thanks you for making yourself vulnerable to her and tells you all the wonderful stories of your long future together. Like how one day the creator will return to the world, and the two of you will be all that remains in their rewritten kindgom - tied eternally by the strings of love and fate.

Spice Milk

Stuck between mom friend and pouring their heart out to you. They make sure you have a proper place to lay and are comfortable before attempting to leave, but soon he finds himself venting about the way you make him feel. He justifies his harsher actions by a need to protect you, but he has no excuse for the bad advice he gives others. By the end of it he works you falling asleep on him as a sign that his efforts are not wasted as cruel as they are.

Chocolate Milk

Shows little emotion, but takes off his jacket and lays it over you. If others are in the room he swears he'll bust skulls if you so much as flinch from the noise. Lightly scolds you if you have bad sleeping habits, but if you ever had the need to look at his phone - you'll see a new picture on his lock screen

[estrellami-1]

Soft Touch Baby

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3

Eddie doesn’t look directly at Steve the rest of the time everyone else is still there. Side glances, here and there, but every time Steve looks at him (which is a normal amount, Robin, shut up), he looks away. It feels like high school all over again, when Steve was a coward and a bully and Eddie was lower on the totem pole than Steve would ever dare to tread.

Steve does what he knows to do. He provides drinks and snacks, plays the perfect host, and tries not to pay attention to his own feelings.

Once the kids leave, the house is silent for a moment. Eddie, of course, breaks it, and Steve almost has to smile. “Another beer?” Eddie asks, shaking his almost-empty one before tipping it up to his mouth for the last dregs.

Steve considers his Coke, considers Eddie’s beer, then nods. “Only if you do, though,” he says, almost grinning.

Eddie grins wide, but he still won’t look directly at Steve. “Whaddya take me for, a two-pot screamer?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Were you not the one saying you shouldn’t be driving?”

Eddie stills then, once again halfway in the fridge, before moving away and shutting the door, hands empty. “You’re right. I can- I should… I’ll go, sorry, I-”

“Whoa,” Steve says, moving to intercept him. “What’s going on? You’re fine, stay. I don’t… it doesn’t matter. The drinks, the driving. If you can drive. It’s fine. You can stay.” Please don’t say it, don’t make me say it. Don’t make me beg.

“Okay,” Eddie says finally, and Steve lets out a breath he doesn’t remember holding.

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly. They get their beers and sit on the couch. Steve doesn’t think about the careful space between them.

“The masks,” Eddie starts, fidgeting with his rings, ripping the paper label on the beer. “That’s from experience.”

Steve takes a drink before answering. “I was a dick in high school. I’m trying not to be.”

“You’re succeeding.” More fidgeting, more ripping. “Sometimes you wear a mask for so long you can’t even remember who you are underneath.” His leg starts shaking. Steve resists the urge to put his hand on it.

“Sometimes,” Steve allows. He looks straight at Eddie. “Sometimes the best mask is the real you.” Eddie pulls a piece of hair in front of his face, the way he does when he’s overwhelmed or flustered. Steve wants to bury his fingers in Eddie’s hair. He forces himself not to think about it.

It’s silent for a moment—or as silent as it can be with Eddie—before Steve takes a breath. “You’re really good with the kids.”

Eddie snorts. “The little shits. They’re good kids, I haven’t done anything.”

“Damn lie,” Steve says quickly, like it’s a reflex. “You’re good with them. They love you. You match their energy.”

Eddie takes a drink to hide the smile trying to break through. “So what I’m hearing is I’m childish.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs, leaning over to gently push Eddie’s arm. “Sometimes, sure, but that’s not a bad thing.”

“Mhm. Mister I’m the mom friend of the group and you’d better listen to me, young man.”

Steve laughs again, louder. “I’m the mom friend?”

Eddie raises a challenging brow and gestures around. “You ferry the kids everywhere, your house is always open for movie or game nights, you keep a frankly concerning amount of snacks on hand at all times…”

Steve shakes his head, still laughing, but sobers. He wants to be brave. And if he can’t yet, not about the thing eating him, maybe he can about this. “The snacks aren’t just for the kids.” He picks at the label of his own bottle. “Sometimes… real food is just… too much, y’know?”

Eddie hums. “I think so. Like, the preparing of it?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not always. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just the thought of it that’s too much. Snacks are easier. I dunno why.” He huffs a breathless laugh. “Maybe I’m just fucked in the head.”

Eddie snorts. “I think we’re all fucked in the head, after everything.” He shrugs when Steve turns to look at him. “‘S not a bad thing.”

Steve raises a brow with a wry smile. “I think my multiple concussions would disagree with you.”

Eddie furrows his brows. “Dude, if you’re not fucked in the head after all those, I’d be worried.” He pauses, looks away, looks back. “Anything come from those?”

“From the concussions?” Eddie nods. “Some. I’m fine.”

Eddie sighs, looks away again, looks back again. “You ever gonna let someone else take care of you?”

Steve offers a wry smile. “What’s it we were talking about earlier, about masks?”

Pt 4

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you - Chp.13

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 4482

Summary: Back home, Minho decides to make the best out of his break and opens up to his mother about the past events. After finding some letters his friends wrote him, he calls Jisung. It takes him a week to finally open Chan's letter, which seems to change everything...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, jisung is too nosy for his own good, emotional hurt/comfort

Chp.12 | Chp. 14

A thousand miles away from the day that we started

But I'm standing here with you, just trying to be honest

If honesty means telling you the truth

Well, I'm still in love with you

Still ~ Niall Horan

Minho had been back at his parents’ home for the last three days. Upon his stay, his mother cautiously asked if all this had anything to do with Chan. Though he probably could’ve lied to his mom, Minho simply couldn’t stop hiding it anymore. He told his mother everything on day two. From how it all started, what Chan had said to him, what happened the day after, and even how his actions harmed himself more than anyone else in the process. He opened up about how much it hurt him since Chan was his first time and first actual lover. He told her how much they struggle to trust each other right now, but can't stay away from one another for too long. Minho went on to tell her about his insecurities kicking in, how he began questioning himself, and his constant fear of failure. He also told her about the night he stopped Chan from leaving, what had happened with Felix and Chan turning up in front of his door a few days later. 

His mother had been patiently listening, letting him ramble on until there were no more words left. "I thought something might've happened when Felix said you stopped taking care of yourself. And once I thought about it, it only made sense it was about Chan. You know, usually, he checks in every two weeks, asks if we need anything, how I'm doing, and tells me about you."

Minho had blinked at her surprised. "He does what? I call you every two weeks, why would he..?"

She had smiled at him knowingly. "One of the last times you came home to visit, I told you I'd love to hear from you more often. But I knew it may be hard because of your work schedule. Since you call every first and third week of the month, he took it to heart and started calling every second and fourth week. That way, he filled the gaps for me whenever you were busy." Minho had been too stunned to speak at her revelation, mouth open in shock as she continued. "Anyway, he stopped calling weeks ago, and I thought maybe he was busy. When you missed your call a week later, I thought the same. But then I saw you collapsing during that performance, and still, he didn't call. But Felix did…and I got a bad feeling. He usually calls me when something major has happened."

Minho sighed softly and turned on his side, staring out his window. So Chan had been checking in on his mother all this time, and he never had a clue. 

Of course he was…

Spotting his suitcase in a corner of his room, he groaned softly and got up, finally ready to unpack. He threw it on the bed and sat down, opening it up. His clothes were neatly folded, and on top of it was a small plushie he recognized as Jeongin's. "You're too sweet sometimes," he chuckled to himself and placed it on his bed before looking back. He noticed three small balls and realized they were the ones Chan had bought for his cats to take home. Minho took them out gently and smiled sadly at them. He had promised him to take a video of his cats playing with them. There were also some of his favorite snacks in his suitcase, including those damn cookies only Chan knew he loved. He spotted a small box and curiously looked at the piece of paper resting on top. 

"Open when you need a reminder to believe in yourself"

He took a moment to consider his thoughts, before ultimately choosing to open it now. There were lots of small pieces of paper with words of encouragement and sweet messages in his friend’s handwriting. "That's so sweet," he said to himself and put it on his nightstand. 

Once he had taken out his clothes, he spotted a small package and took that out as well, frowning. He sat back down and opened it, taking out seven envelopes with the names of his members written on them. Minho frowned, took Felix's from the top, and opened it, revealing a handwritten letter addressed to him. "No, they didn't," he breathed out surprised, and checked the other envelopes, pulling out letter after letter from his second family. He started reading them and couldn't stop smiling at all the sweet, thoughtful messages they had written, encouraging him and telling him they missed him. Promising that they'd be there to support him coming back, that a whole month without him would feel awful, and how much they hoped he'd be able to rest. All of them promised to call and visit whenever they could. Minho hadn't felt this warm and loved in a while and promised himself to keep those letters stored somewhere he could reread them whenever he needed to. His fingers brushed over the last envelope with Chan's name on it, and for a moment, he considered opening it. Then he put it aside and decided to look at it another time before dialing Jisung's number, who picked up almost immediately. 

"Hey, Hannie," he said softly. 

"Minho, I was just thinking about you," he told him happily. "How are you?" 

"I'm getting there," he decided to be honest. "My knee's still fucked, my mental health probably as well, but at least I started eating again." 

"That's good to hear. The eating part," he added, chuckling. "How have your first three days of exile been?" 

"It's been alright. Spending time with my mum and my cats is something I really missed," he told him. "Also, Felix stayed for a day, so I haven't been alone for that long," he giggled. 

"Right," he laughed. 

"I'm so sorry we didn't have time to talk before I left. How are you feeling?" he asked, and Jisung was quiet for a moment. "You can be honest; I can take it." 

"To be honest, I'm a little anxious at the moment. The past few weeks have been wild," he admitted, and Minho hummed softly. "I hope you can forgive me for suggesting a break." 

"Hannie, it's fine," he told him sincerely. 

"I never thought they'd say a month," he confessed nervously.

"Me neither, dear," he groaned softly. "A month is way too long. I'll bribe Chan with something to let me come back when I get too bored here." 

"Just smile at him. That's enough right now," he grinned. 

"You think so?" he giggled. 

"Oh come on, as soon as he's in his right mind, you have him wrapped around your finger, Min," he laughed. "Are you two okay?" 

Minho sighed heavily. "I wish I could answer that, but it's a mess. I guess we both don't really know yet, but it seems like we both want this to end happily." 

"Meaning you getting back together?" he asked. 

"We've never actually… never mind. I guess that's the destination," he shrugged. "But back to you, you've been feeling anxious?" 

"It's just…I feel calmer knowing you're here at the front during a performance or interview. You pick up on a panic attack way sooner than I do. That makes me feel safe," he told him honestly. 

Minho smiled sadly. "You're not alone, Hannie. Felix notices as well…and Channie knows how to deal with it and help you through. Just like he did that one time I had the flu and couldn't be there." 

"Yeah, you're probably right," he nodded. 

"I'm sorry for being such an ass those past few weeks. I know you only tried to help me take care of myself, and I didn't always appreciate it," he told him. "I want you to know that I'm really proud of you, and I'm thankful to have you as my friend.”

"Don't be so sweet, you're making me emotional," he told him, laughing softly. "Did you read my letter?" 

"I did," Minho nodded. 

"Then you know I'm not mad at you," he said gently. "I love you a lot, and I hope one day soon you'll be able to realize how amazing you are." 

Minho smiled and playfully rolled his eyes. "Who's being sweet now?" Jisung started laughing and told him to fuck off. "But seriously, you can call if it gets bad. And if you're too exhausted to talk, I can just talk shit and show you what my cats are doing." 

Jisung giggled softly. "That would be nice…Can I see right now?" 

"Sure thing," he nodded and got up, calling Soonie over to him. He picked him up, switched to a video call, and got comfortable in bed again. "Say hi to Hannie," he said, waving his paw. 

Jisung giggled and waved back. "Hii Soonie, you're happy Minho's back?" 

Minho glanced at his cat, who seemed unbothered, and chuckled. "Not much of a talker, are you?" he smirked as Soonie curled up on his chest comfortably and scratched his head. 

"Man, you look exhausted," he said, and Minho contorted his face.

"I know, it's fucking bad. My dad already made about a hundred jokes about it trying to cheer me up," he laughed. "I miss our makeup artists already." 

"As if they could fix that," he snorted. "You said it yourself, you have to be born beautiful." 

"Handsome people get exhausted sometimes, alright?" he quipped back, and Jisung grinned. "How's your love life going? I think we've all been focusing too much on my fucked up one." 

"Way to go, hyung," he giggled. "Everything's fine. No strings attached, as you know."

"They're taking good care of you?" he asked. 

"Oh, you know our maknae loves to be a tease. Seungmin's there for lazy kisses and cuddles. And Jinnie…," Jisung blushed heavily, and Minho started laughing. 

"Alright, I don't need to know how he is in bed, but judging by yours and Felix's reaction to that question, I'd say good," he grinned. 

"I think you're the only one of us who's more flexible than-." 

"Hannie!" he protested. 

"Sorry," he giggled. "I couldn't help but ask Felix since he got a taste of you both." 

"You're so nasty," he scrunched his nose softly. "And too nosy for your own good." 

"You've been having sex in the practice room, Min. That floor was supposed to be covered with hard-earned sweat only," he told him. 

"Who said I didn't work hard for it, huh?" he asked, and now it was Jisung's turn to protest. 

"So you're a bottom?" he asked curiously. 

"I guess I am," he shrugged. 

"Huh." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked offended. 

"I just never thought of you as one," he admitted. "I kind of could imagine Chan more as it…but then also not." 

"He had the experience, I just went with it," he shrugged, laughing. "Who knows? Maybe I'm an amazing top when I'm not with Chan." 

"I'd let you test that theory whenever you like," he told him absentmindedly, just letting his thoughts casually roll off his tongue. But he soon realized what he said and his eyes widened in shock. "Fuck, sorry." 

Minho's eyes widened as well at his comment. He took a moment to regain his voice, and his composure. "Han Jisung, that's a whole different conversation we'll have once things with Chan are settled." 

"Yes, hyung," he said sheepishly and buried his face in his hand, laughing. "God, Jeongin is right, I talk without thinking sometimes." 

"He's one to talk," he rolled his eyes. "He calls me mum after I scold him for not listening to me, I’m starting to think he's doing that on purpose…don't answer that. Also, to answer your question before, just ask Felix; he knows." 

"God, let's change the topic, I know too much," Jisung whined. "How did your mum take it?" 

"She already had a feeling this had something to do with Chan," he told him, glad to change topics as well. "She's worried because she knows how in love I still am with him." 

"Who can blame you? When he's not talking shit, he's the perfect boyfriend material," he nodded. "Besides his workaholic tendencies, maybe." 

Minho giggled softly. "I'll put him off caffeine, he has trouble sleeping without it already." 

"It's a vicious cycle," Jisung hummed, agreeing. "But anyway-“ He was interrupted by someone in his background. “What? Tell him I'm talking to Min!" 

"Stop messing around! We were supposed to be at the company half an hour ago," Changbin could be heard in the back. 

"Again?" he rolled his eyes softly. "My brain's empty." 

"Tell that to Chan, now move it," Changbin laughed and appeared in the picture. "Hi, Minho hyung."

"Hi," he chuckled. "Off you go, Hannie." 

"Fine," he groaned and rolled his eyes. They exchanged their goodbyes, and Minho giggled softly once the call ended. A talk with Jisung never left him disappointed. 

-

It took Minho a week to finally open Chan's letter. He was eating more or less normally again, getting more sleep, and having long talks with his mother about love and his life. His father was pulling him back to reality, telling him he’d have to pursue his dream regardless and not let his own insecurities stop him. By now, he had talked to everyone at least once besides Chan, and he started missing him a little. So after finding his glasses he made himself comfortable in bed and opened the last envelope with Chan's name on it. 

“Dear Minho,

I hope you're already doing a little better once you get our messages. At first, I wasn't sure if I should write one myself, but it would've felt wrong not to. I know I'm to blame for how you feel, for the things you're dealing with right now, and for your current insecurity. I wish I could tell you everything in person, but somehow, we keep making it worse whenever we try to talk, so here we go:”

Minho looked up and took a moment to think if he wanted to continue reading the letter today. What if it only confuses him more about their situation? He took a deep breath as his eyes fell back on the page before he knew it. 

“I don't know why, but the thought of the others finding out scared me. Maybe because deep down, I'm scared that someone won't approve of us, and it would make things complicated for all of us. Maybe because I'm scared they can't keep their mouths shut in public, and we'll get in trouble if the press finds out. I could've said anything to answer Jeongin's question, saying we're working on new songs or something. But I chose to talk shit about you instead to save myself. Believe me, I still don’t understand my logic behind that either. When you suddenly stood behind me, and I realized you heard every word, I panicked even more, knowing I hurt you. 

I wished we could've told them about us differently. But I don't blame you for doing it. When you told them what really happened that night, I snapped. I didn't have my feelings under control. And I know I would've had to tell them at some point, but not like that. I can't say I'm okay with how it happened, but again I don't blame you. You were only reacting to my bullshit, and I clearly pissed you off. I know I said I needed time to work on that, but I know that deep down, I forgave you the night you took my hand and held me close when I needed someone. I can't be mad at you for telling them. It was only fair that they knew the truth. 

Even though things have been going on for a year between the two of us, I never thought much beyond the casual kissing and having sex aspect of it. Don't get me wrong, you mean so much more to me than that. But maybe my fear stopped me from imagining anything beyond that. You probably have because deep down, you're a little romantic, and you always got so adorably excited when we did anything normal couples do. I promised you to stand up for the two of us and fight for what we have, but the moment a friend asked, I failed you miserably. I've never been in a relationship before, especially due to the ban. I've decided to stick with casual sex from now and then, but you know that already. Maybe that's why I kept that mindset even though I knew you meant much more to me than anyone else before.”

Minho had to take a break, putting the pages on his mattress and staring out the window. Had he been naive to think about all of this, imagining how happy they could be someday? Rereading the passage, he realized that Chan had been thinking about him as much as he did, maybe even more. But Chan had been too scared actually to do so. So, technically, he hadn't been the only one. 

“I don't know if you can ever forgive me for what I said, but I am truly sorry. I never saw you that way.  You're not cold, you've always given a fuck about my feelings when others didn’t, and I know you'd never use me. I'm so sorry I even thought differently about it. Minho baby-“

Minho closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath at that all too familiar name he had heard in different settings before. He tried not to think about them too much and resumed reading.

“Minho baby, you're kind and loving and funny, and gosh, I love making you laugh. You're so caring you often think of yourself last. Everyone knows you have their back. You're incredibly talented, and I wouldn't want to lead this team with anyone else than you by my side. Min, you're beautiful inside and out, and it's killing me that I'm the one making you doubt that. You once told me I'm your safe place, and I'm sorry for taking that from you. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, but I'm ready if or when you do. No matter how we end up, I'll always be there for you. I'll always listen to your worries and make sure you're okay.

I really hope we can go back to normal one day. But until then, I want you to know all of the above. Please take your time and get some rest, you deserve it.

I love you. 

Forever yours,

Channie

PS: The following three pages are what I’ve written for our upcoming one-year “anniversary”. If you don’t feel up for getting showered with stupidly sweet shit, just put them aside for now.”

Minho couldn't stop rereading that last passage, trying to wrap his head around it. His fingers shakily brushed over the last three lines, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears. He cursed at himself, not believing how awfully emotional he was at the letter. Inhaling deeply, he flipped the page and read the additional letter Chan wrote. He was crying by the time he was done, feeling a bitter-sweet mixture of being incredibly loved and missing Chan like hell.

Minho grabbed his phone and the letter, sitting down at the window sill and rereading the whole thing three times. Once he was done, he grabbed his phone, and before he knew it, he was already calling him. It had been over a week since they last talked. Thinking back to that day  after reading that letter, he missed him so much. He missed his hugs; he missed his soothing voice, he missed his familiar smell. 

Chan picked up after a few seconds, sounding a little out of breath. "Hey, what's up?" he asked and took a few steps back, watching the others continue practicing the dance. They had just gotten back from their first few days of promotion abroad and got right back to work. Chan knew they had to tackle upcoming performances a little differently now that their main dancer was missing.

"Channie," Minho sniffled, and Chan's heart sank. "Do you have a minute?" 

"Uh, we're in the middle of dance practice-," he started, glancing around the room and bringing more distance between himself and the other members. 

Minho nodded to himself and pulled up his knees to his chest, resting his head on them. "Don't worry, go on," he cut him off. 

"No, I - give me a moment, okay? I'll call you back," Chan promised and ended the call before he could answer. Chan quickly organized his members to go on without him before rushing up the stairs to his room. He changed out of his sweaty clothes and flopped down on his bed, calling Minho back. Minho picked up soon, and Chan put the phone to his ear. "Hey." 

"Hey," Minho answered quietly. 

"What's going on? You don't sound good," Chan started out gently. He wondered why he'd call him and not Felix or Han. 

"I-I found the letters a few days ago. I read them and they made me a little emotional," he confessed sheepishly. 

"Oh, okay, makes sense," Chan nodded and felt relief swapping over him. Nothing bad happened in that case. "Wait, you read them a few days ago?" 

"Mhm," he hummed. "I read yours today." 

"Oh," he chuckled nervously. 

"Did you mean it?" he asked timidly. Unconsciously, he drew in a breath and held it in, awaiting his response.

There was a moment of silence that made Minho nervous. But Chan just needed a second to realize that he was talking about his letter. "Every single word."

"You're very confusing. I hope you know that."

"How so?" he asked calmly, promising himself to try his best to fix this no matter what Minho would say. 

Minho chuckled softly and looked at the sunset outside, painting the sky in beautiful hues of pink and yellow. "I don't know what to believe anymore because you were sweet and loving one day, then you pushed me away and said some nasty stuff the next…and now this." The older one hummed gently, not quite knowing what to say. "I forgive you, Channie, I really do. I know I didn't help the situation much by pushing you into a corner. And I'm sorry about the slap, even though you deserved that…and that stupid juice." 

Chan didn't know if he should laugh at that last bit or feel relieved about Minho forgiving him. "I know I haven't been easy to be around lately, but what I wrote in that letter came from my heart. You can believe in that." 

Minho chewed on his lower lip, sniffling softly as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Promise?" 

"I promise I mean every single word," Chan assured him very gently. "I…I want you to be mine, Minho. I want to make this work for us, even if it's a secret for now because of our career. I want to be better for you because you don't deserve the mess I am currently." 

"I'm a mess myself, Channie," he told him. 

"It doesn't make me adore you any less," he told him. If Minho could see Chan now, he could see the sincerity in his expression, the want in his eyes. "I'm serious, I want to hold your hand and kiss you in front of our friends. I want to have secret dates with you, I want you to meet my family but not as my friend. I want you back, Min. And I want do right by you because that’s what you deserve." 

He closed his eyes in defeat, pushed his glasses up in his hair and buried his face in his knees, quietly crying into the fabric of his sweatpants. "I really miss you, you know," he pressed out. 

Hearing Minho’s voice and the sadness in his tone, Chan made a decision then and there, getting up and grabbing a backpack, stuffing some things into it. "I miss you too, so much," he said softly, his heart breaking at how vulnerable Minho sounded. He scribbled a note for his members and put it on the kitchen table before leaving the house, quietly closing the door behind himself. A little later, he was still on the phone with him in a cab. 

"You actually think we can keep this a secret?" he asked, suddenly having doubts himself.

"There'll always be rumors no matter what we do," he told him. "We'll just continue to ignore them…or have fun giving them more to gossip about."

Minho giggled a little at that. "You have a point…especially with that new dance. I shouldn't listen to Felix and Hyunjin when they have another 'fun idea'." 

"I think it'll be fun," he chuckled. 

"You always think it's fun when you have me pressed against you," Minho said smoothly. 

"You got me," he snorted, not knowing how heavily he made the other one blush. 

When he was only a few minutes away, he told Minho he'd have to get back to practice.

Minho glanced at his phone and saw they'd been talking for over an hour. "Shit, you're right. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," he assured him. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" 

"Okay," he nodded gently, surprised that Chan wanted to continue their talk later. 

"Can I tell you something?" he asked softly. 

"Yeah?" he asked. 

"I love you," Chan said gently, feeling a little nervous as Minho remained quiet for a moment that felt like ages. It had been the first time in almost a year he put it into words besides their goodbye. It was the first intimate 'I love you'. He had described it well before, sneaking his way around those three little words. 

"I love you too," he said softly, and Chan could practically hear him smiling. After ending the call, he watched the last bit of the sun disappear from his sight and smiled a little, thinking back on their talk. Were they actually okay again? He heard his door opening and didn't even look in its direction. "Mum, can we talk later? I’m not really up to talking right now, sorry." The last part faded into a whisper.

Chan quietly closed the door behind himself and took in the sight of him. The fading sunlight danced across Minho's hair as his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. He still had Chan's letter in his hand and his phone next to him. Chan smiled softly, seeing him wear his glasses; to him, he looked very adorable like this. He was more than glad he followed his heart coming here. 

Minho frowned softly as his mother didn't answer and turned his head, eyes widening at the sight of him. He stared at him for a moment, and Chan tilted his head at him with a soft smile. 

"Surprise?" 

"Channie," he breathed out.

Chp.12 | Chp. 14

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @hyunniebunni @rebecca-johnson-28 @brownieloved @euphoric-univers

[mojowitchcraft]

Your Hand In Mine

Fun prompt game based on this post

Wheeler’s Basement / They save each others lives / Carol Perkins is there

Steve breathes heavily, air burning in his lungs as they run for their lives—literally. There’s a fucking demogorgon following them through the woods, roaring in that screechy way they do, probably letting all its friends know where they are. 

Carol trips over a branch and he yanks her up, and pushes her in front of him, after Eddie. The three of them got split up from the rest of the group and they need to find shelter now. 

“Keep moving!” says Steve in a loud whisper, “We’re almost at the Wheelers, we can hide there… see if the walkie still works”.

“You got it, big boy,” Eddie calls over his shoulder, “Onwards!” He points with his spear—an improved version of the ones he and Dustin used to fight off the bats at the trailer park all those months ago. The night that Eddie almost died. 

Steve hates that Eddie’s back here, in the Upside Down, that they’re still fighting for their lives when Eddie already nearly lost his. But now that Eddie found his courage there was no stopping him from joining them on yet another suicide mission.

Somehow, even in this life-or-death situation, Carol still finds the energy to be her sassy self.  “Big boy?” she scoffs under her breath as she raises an eyebrow at Steve. 

He shrugs, tries to fight the blush he feels rising to his cheeks, tries to rationalize that he feels hot from the whole running for their lives thing, rather than the alternative I think I might have a crush on my friend thing.

It should be comforting, that Carol’s still herself even after all this shit. After she and Tommy unwittingly got dragged into this mess for the simple crime of coming home for the summer to help with earthquake relief. Completely unaware of the horrors that awaited them here. 

If Steve had still been friends with them at the time he’d have told them to stay far away. He’s not sure if they would have listened though, Tommy’s always been very protective of his little sister and his mom, and Carol tends to follow Tommy wherever he goes. 

Tommy’s grown up a lot more than Steve expected after one year away at college. Or maybe it was the realization that monsters are real. Steve knows that helped him grow the fuck up quickly. Either way, some weird twist of fate landed them all here, in the Upside Down, together.  

They break free of the trees, Eddie ahead of them running across the clearing shield held over his head. Steve hears the bats before he sees them, chittering and screeching as two of them dive down. One hits Eddie’s shield with a loud bang, shrieking as it’s caught by the large nails embedded in the metal.

“Eddie!” Steve calls out, running after him. He won’t let anything happen to Eddie, not this time. 

Steve’s barely been able to let the guy out of his sight since he was released from the hospital a couple of months ago. He’s been wracked with guilt over leaving Eddie and Dustin to fend for themselves, and no matter how many times the rest of The Party tells him that it’s not his fault he can’t help but feel like he could have stopped it from happening. 

He swings his nail bat, strong and sure, knocking one of the demobats down to the ground and wailing on it until it stops twitching. Eddie’s taken care of the other one that got caught in his shield while Carol aims her shotgun at the trees behind them, keeping watch. 

They make a pretty proficient trio, surprisingly. Steve would laugh if he had the energy, and Carol seems to have the same thought as she grins manically at him and lowers her shotgun. Who’d have thought Carol Perkins and Steve Harrington would be fighting monsters with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson? Not their high school selves, that’s for damn sure. 

“Let’s get inside,” Steve says, dropping his own smile and stepping forward, stomping on one of the demobat corpses with his heavy boots for good measure.

After they quickly check the house, Eddie throws himself down on a couch and grabs the walkie, trying to call the rest of the party and find out where they ended up. Carol sits next to him, wringing her fingers and biting her lip. Steve feels for her, knows she’s worried about Tommy. 

He’s worried too, about all of their friends, but especially Robin. It’s not that she’s entirely inept, but she’s clumsy, and not a great runner. Steve just hopes that Robin managed to stay with Nancy, Jonathan, and Tommy. He figures that Tommy can handle himself, he was always proficient enough in a fight. Plus he knows that the rest of them work well as a team. 

Steve excuses himself to take a leak, figures it’s better to take care of it during their brief downtime rather than hold it. He wonders if the toilets even flush here, once he’s finished he tries the handle just to check. No dice. Ah well, it was probably too much to hope that an alternate dimension would have indoor plumbing.

He’s walking back from the bathroom when he hears a noise coming from the stairs down to the basement. Steve raises his bat and opens his mouth to try to call for Eddie and Carol, but everything happens so fast. 

The door to the basement bursts open, demogorgon screeching and clawing at him as he swings, catching it on the arm. It charges forward, forcing him back as he darts around the kitchen island, dodging the tips of its pointed fingers as they reach for him. He’s not really thinking, other than wanting to lead it away from his friends. 

Steve runs down the basement stairs, not his smartest move. The monster is hot on his heels, and he crouches down as it leaps at him, sending it sailing forward into the old couch there. It slams into the wall before it turns and shrieks at him. 

He plants his feet and raises his bat, heart pounding as he faces off with this hideous creature that’s probably about to tear him limb from limb. It charges at him, halted by a blast from a shotgun behind him. It staggers back after another blast from the shotgun, and a Molotov cocktail sails forward, hitting it on its head. There’s a burst of flame and Steve shields his eyes. 

Inhuman screeches fill the Wheeler’s basement as the demogorgon claws at its own petaled head. It retreats out of the back door, and Steve assumes that’s where it came in. Carol rushes forward and shoves a chair in front of the door, looks out the windows to check the back door. 

“Steve, what the fuck man, are you okay?” Eddie asks, and suddenly he’s in front of Steve. Holding him by the shoulders while his big brown eyes flick over Steve’s face and down his body, checking him for injuries. 

“Y-yeah,” Steve responds hoarsely, “I’m fine”.

“Good,” Eddie says, punching him on the shoulder, “You idiot!”

“Ow!” 

“I thought we had a group agreement, you know, the whole lecture you gave us? No sacrificing yourself for the good of the group? That means you too!” Eddie gives him a little shake, oddly intense as he moves his hands up from Steve’s shoulders to his face, brushing some hair out of the way. 

Steve leans into the touch, brushing his cheek against Eddie’s palm. He doesn’t mean to. Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the fact that Eddie’s so close to him, and looking at him with so much concern that it’s making Steve’s heart pound. But the movement makes Eddie suck in a breath, his eyes dropping to Steve’s lips and that’s all the indication that Steve needs. 

“Fuck it,” he says, mostly to himself, as he leans forward and captures Eddie’s lips with his. 

Just a quick press, nothing monumental, but it makes his stomach swoop all the same. Makes him realize he’s wanted to do that for a long time, longer than he’s ready to admit to himself in this moment. 

When he pulls back, Eddie looks shocked. He’s still standing close, one hand on Steve’s face, the other in his hair, but Steve can’t decipher his expression. They stand there for a moment, staring at each other, and just as Steve’s about to step back, apologize for misreading things, Eddie pulls him forward and kisses him again, open-mouthed and wet. Enthusiastic and a little sloppy. It makes Steve laugh, his chuckle lost into the cavern of Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into Steve’s mouth, his breath is far from minty but it still makes Steve groan. He grabs at Eddie’s jacket, pulling him in closer and kissing him fully, completely forgetting where they are and what just happened for a moment. 

That is until Carol clears her throat. “Uh, not that I’m not thrilled for you two, but maybe this could wait until we’re not in Nancy Wheeler’s basement with monsters trying to kill us lurking right outside?”

Steve and Eddie spring apart. Eddie grins, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Sorry Perkie, The King kissed me and I guess I got a bit carried away, surely you understand.”

Carol rolls her eyes, “Munson, I told you to quit it with that nickname. I’ll let it slide this time, but next time I’m aiming my gun at your balls”.

Eddie quickly cups his aforementioned bits and does a goofy bow, “Yes, m’lady”.

Steve stares between them, an incredulous laugh bursting out of his throat before he gathers himself. He stares hard at Carol, “You don’t have a problem with this? Us?” he gestures to himself and Eddie. 

“Us?” asks Eddie quietly surprised, Steve’ll fill him in later. 

She scoffs and rolls her eyes again, “Honestly Steve, you really need to get out of Hawkins. I don’t care, and neither will Tommy”. She adds on the last bit in a sweeter, more reassuring tone. 

Steve nods, “Thanks.”

The three of them shove the couch and table in front of the door for good measure before they head back upstairs to their discarded packs, Carol rushes up the stairs when they hear Tommy’s voice calling for her over the walkie. 

“Us?” Eddie asks again in a lower tone as they shove more furniture in front of the basement door. 

“Yeah… us,” Steve says slowly, “You and me… you want that right?”

He has to hold back a smile when Eddie’s cheeks go bright pink.

“Yeah, yeah I want that,” Eddie says shyly, pulling a lock of hair over his mouth to hide his own smile. 

“Well c’mon then,” Steve says, grabbing Eddie’s free hand and pulling him towards the living room. “Let’s save the world, survive, and we’ll figure out the rest later.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Eddie replies with a chuckle. His hand is big, rings digging into Steve’s knuckles when he gives his hand a squeeze. 

Not for the first time Steve’s struck by how pretty Eddie is, even with the layer of Upside Down grime coating his face. It helps that he’s looking at Steve with a smirk, doe eyes big and sweet as they rove over Steve’s face, darting down to his lips like he wants nothing more than to drag Steve back into the basement and kiss him again.  

Steve knows what he’s about to say is stupidly cheesy, but he can’t help it, not when Eddie is looking at him like that.

“Anything sounds easy with your hand in mine.”

Cross posted on Ao3

[pinkandpurple360]

I get that afterglow is a thing, and that would explain why Blitz initially took the photo of him and Stolas cuddling, but it doesn't explain why he would keep it.

It also doesn't explain why he would be so upset over Stolas' shame at Ozzie's and rejecting him. If Blitz didn't care about Stolas, he absolutely would not be shedding tears over the matter. The Blitz you've conjured in your head would be jumping for joy to get the "owl pervert" off his ass, not depressed over the matter that he doesn't mean more to him.

And you hand-waving his complex feelings away with just "Oh, he's playing pretend to cope" does not explain it at all.

The Blitz you've conjured in your head

Why you little—

Pictured: Is the image Blitz was really shedding tears over..stolas? Cause he really likes stolas..?

You sure about that? God the twins are so precious here🥺

“He’s playing pretend to cope” literally is the story. That’s like…the entire theme of stolas speaks as well. Both of them are. Pretending pirates, bodyguard, best friends, knight in shining armour. Etc. Until stolas goes back to Via and Blitz goes back to his own family. Trying to mix the two, also clearly, fails. Those are the complex feelings at play. Blitz hoards memories. Good and bad. And it’s all stolitz stans claiming stolas reminds him of Fizz, based on strong evidence, not me. I never saw that until they pointed it out. But it’s definitely there.

All of this has been fake, a play date he entered once as a trafficked child so he could help his mom, and now as an adult with begrudging sex with stolas so he and his family can have access to the living world. I know Viv is apparently forcing it into a romance, somehow, but up until now this has made perfect sense. I probably won’t even recognise the blitz we see in the next episode, and if you need to break all the characters and the plot continuity, ditch the pilot and do constant damage control on Twitter to silence people all for a ship, there’s probably a reason ^^;

The fondness can easily be explained as seeing him as someone to protect and someone who will prop up his ego when everyone else is calling him out and he runs away from them towards someone who applauds everything he does. That’s not even the subtext it’s just the literal text.

“You don’t want to do things alone blitzø”

“You’re gonna die alone”

“Im gonna die alone aren’t I”

??? Hello??? Im not basing this on nothing? Attaching himself to an abusive man to cope because everything til now has been bad.

But how can he stick to that when the Goetia family situation he eventually starts to blame himself for, can’t just be discarded. His daughter needs him and how could Blitzø allow himself to come between a father and daughter?

I know this is kinky bdsm and everything but, damn. And if that’s your thing, fine. Enjoy it I guess?

But wow. Is it disgusting to the rest of us. Not to mention mean spirited too. Like the more I think about it the worse it gets. Poor Octavia. Lots of things gross me out. Especially the circus flags in his car.

Stolas has been sexualising blitz since blitz was only about what? seven, eight? years old? On a stage?

This scene. Braces himself for stolas propositioning him yet again. Then cries when stolas dared to ask him to come inside privately after everything he just did to him publicly, including trying to run away, and then hiding his face away from him.

It’s like when he does something nice for him like drive him home “it’s because he secretly loves him” but I’d bet if he didn’t drive him home I’d have to listen to “it’s because he loves him and can’t stand being too close unless he loses himself and kisses him”

I don’t know man, maybe public humiliation and public rejection in front of almost everyone important in your life is bad, no matter who does it to you? Seeing, ‘someone’ to you that you are scared to see, seeing your ex humiliate you, seeing your employees have what you wish you could have, but be stuck with a boring stiff like stolas who you have less than zero chemistry with?

“So uh. How did you kill them?”

“Uh. Bullets?”

“Right. Right.”

😐

Um. And the other one is

“What can’t you memorise your fuckin spells?” Seriously there’s no way he didn’t just want blitz to stay in his imp form

“Oh and your memory is so great, what’s his phone number?”

“Fuck you”

“Exactly”

😐

But especially a guy you didnt want to ask out, but did begrudgingly, to use his class privilege, but then that same class privilege hits back at you? No wonder that stung.

Where’s the love here? seriously….stolas even dresses up like a character he saw on TV. Does it get more on the nose than that?

Even the words to not pretend what they have is anything but stolas wanting sex is directed at himself as well. And it really can’t be anything else. He’s never pursued him consensually, the only time he’s shown attraction was in seeing stars which hardly makes any sense since he was in human form and blitz has always found humans ugly. And even if he starts consenting this late, it’s already far too late. Stolas wanted an escape from his family duties, while blitz has never had the opportunity to forget his. Even if he follows him on Instagram and laughs when he jokes about amputation or about wives splitting their heads open. The rest of the room is silent.

Lastly uh…he’s doing fine? All season he’s been his normal self, sometimes upbeat, sometimes angry, sometimes flirty, meeting new people, trying to find Barbie, helping moxxie with his family, (kinda lol) reconnecting with Fizz. He’s even on good terms with Asmodeus now. Stolas who?