#he doesn’t even have a name without barbie

[losthalfelf]

pierce morgan picking the worst possible argument explain his bullshit is so funny. dude just admitted that he has literally no idea what he’s taking about. embarrassing.

[scuderiahoney]

Stick Around

Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics

|Age 20|

“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.

You peer at him over the top of your magazine.

“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.

“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”

You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.

“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”

“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”

The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.

Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.

|Age 5|

It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.

“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”

Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.

“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”

“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.

She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”

She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.

Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.

|Age 10|

“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.

It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.

Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”

The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.

Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.

“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”

You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”

Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.

Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.

His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.

“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”

Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.

Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”

“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”

You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”

|Age 12|

“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.

She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.

She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”

“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”

She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”

You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”

She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”

You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”

“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”

|Age 15|

There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.

You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.

You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.

Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.

“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”

“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.

“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.

Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.

“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”

“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”

He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.

Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.

“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”

Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.

Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.

When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.

|Age 18|

Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.

Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.

You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.

You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?

You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.

Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.

“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.

She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.

“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”

“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.

“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.

Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…

You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.

Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.

You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.

|Age 21|

There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.

It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.

Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-

You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“

“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”

The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”

You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.

“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.

“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“

“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”

He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”

“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”

Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”

You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.

When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.

By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.

Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”

You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.

The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.

|Age 22|

Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.

In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.

You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.

The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.

For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.

Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.

The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.

You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.

In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.

You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.

Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.

You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”

“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.

You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.

You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.

“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.

“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-

But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.

“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”

When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.

…..

Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.

At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:

#16: He peels your oranges.

#16: childhood best friend??

#16: YOU JUST KNOW

little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!

[koolades-world]

Demons and Humans not understanding each other

Inspired by several other posts I read about this same thing <3 honestly even if the brothers insisted it was safe, I would consult Satan, Lucifer or Barbatos

this is mostly mammon freaking out

Humans think the deadliest things are like, adorable, like Cerberus. Mammon especially does not understand why Mc wants to run towards the very dangerous, very mad three headed dog. A few times he has had to throw Mc over his shoulder to keep them from staying behind

“MC CERBERUS BEING THE BEST BOY DOES NOT JUSTIFY HIS ACTIONS HE WANTS TO KILL US”

“But he’s so cute! He just needs a snuggle buddy”

Humans can also be very stubborn if they’re too hot or cold but refuse to admit it. It’s fine with Lucifer does it because he’s one of the most powerful and therefore resilient demons in Hell, but not so much when Mc does it. Beel and Mammon love playing in the Devildom snow, but given that it’s the Devildom, it’s definitely a lot colder than it is in the human realm. Even after ten layers, Mc is still freezing but refuses to admit it.

“Mc, are ya shivering? I thought ya would be too warm under all that”

“I’m sweating with this one jacket”

“I’ll live! Let’s go back to the snowman”

“no I don’t think you will”

On the same note, sometimes demons forget humans can’t withstand crazy temperatures. Asmo will invite Mc to a popular bathhouse, sauna or hot springs, forgetting that the temperature would literally boil Mc alive

“Hey Asmo this is the place you wanted to go, right?”

“Yes! Isn’t is cute?”

“Everything except the part where I boil alive”

“what!”

Some foods can kill humans just by being near them so imagine how the brother would feel when they learned this, it’s giving that lunatic pudding incident with Diavolo from that one card

“Mc! You’ll love this. Open wide!”

“Asmo I feel funny”

“DO NOT FEED MC THE TAKEOUT LUCIFER SAID ITS DEADLY FOR HUMANS IN LARGE AMOUNTS”

“FUCK NOT AGAIN”

In retrospect, humans probably sleep a lot compared to demons. Some demons probably don’t sleep at all, except Sloth demons. Setting aside about eight to nine hours of the day just to sit idly might not make sense to them until they learn they will shut down without it

“How are you feeling about the exam we just took? Exam week is finally over.”

“Mc? Mc, Satan is talking to you. Why are you on the floor”

“MY HUMAN IS DEAD”

“No, I think they’re just asleep idiot”

“oh. wait, THEYRE ASLEEP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALL lucifer is gonna kill me”

I’d say both demons and humans are social creatures, but humans will go insane without social interaction. Yeah a demon would probably be upset if they didn’t talk to someone for thousands of years but I don’t think a human could last more than ten without losing grip on reality. Humans tend to copy each other, which is probably bizarre to demons. Humans don’t even understand yawning so demons definitely won’t

Going back to the food thing, demons can probably go ages without eating, besides Gluttony demons. Humans need to eat so frequently compared to them

“So you’re tellin’ me that if Mc doesn’t eat for a whole week, their insides start to eat themselves?!”

“Yes. But, Mc ate a few hours ago.”

(Mammon was already gone when Satan turned back around)

Demons probably also play game that would definitely kill humans. My brother and I used to play crazy games when we were little (our favorite game didn’t have a name but we would put Barbies in the toy train tracks and see what would happen when different Thomas and friends character would hit her. The train tracks would glow in the dark! I did not let him put my favorite doll in the train track and he had to listen since I was the older one, she was not a barbie and had bendy feet? that’s not for now) but we never seriously got at each other throats. I cannot imagine what games demons and demon children must play. Satan was born fully grown but imagine if he was born little and the brothers had to play his favorite games with him. I feel like they would find the Barbie game I played a little weird too. Like, they would probably tell me that I should’ve done it in real life since that would be better experience or something batshit like that

“Aww, Satan, do you remember all the times we played “Five minute eye stab” with Lucifer? You were so cute. Sometimes I think Luci let you win.”

“Do not talk to me Asmodeus.”

“I’m sorry, you played what?”

“One time we gave him an actual knife by accident and since he was good, he ended up stabbing Lucifer’s eye.”

“You’ll be next if you don’t shut up and let me read”

“HE WHAT”

“Oh he’s fine now, clearly. Only took him a few hundred years to regain normal eye functions”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?”

Babe it is a miracle Mc is still alive

[2knightt]

「 she’s barbie and he’s just ken! 」

IN WHICH—the gang is the ken to readers barbie!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ barbie is reader. reader is barbie. go watch barbie NOW.

Johnny Cade ;

you were sweet, pretty, understanding, and somehow always had a good hair day.

you were smiling every time someone saw you, grinning from ear to ear. everyday was a good day for you.

while johnny was quiet, timid, not a good person for comfort at times and always had grease in his hair.

johnny cade only ever had a good day when y/n l/n acknowledged him.

you were walking down the streets of Tulsa, waving to everyone who said hi—which seemed like everyone.

“hi, y/n!”

“y/n!”

“how are you, y/n?”

you waved at each and every one of them, saying your own little greeting each time.

you flashed your famous smile, making johnny weak in the knees.

even though he was sitting, he felt like he still needed to sit down.

you were close to the bench where he and dally were sitting at. johnny was obviously nervous, wiping the sweat off his palms onto his jacket.

dally saw how his friend was getting anxious at the sight of you and instead of ignoring it or talking to him about it—he decides to tease him.

“hey look, johnny. ‘s your girlfriend.”

he mumbles, his new york accent coming out at the end. he points to you, making it obvious they were talking about you. he nudges johnny, pushing him over slightly.

johnny smacks his hand down, making sure you didn’t see anything.

“she ain’t my girlfriend, dal! cut it out.”

he says, quickly and in a hushed voice. his eyebrows furrowed, glaring at dallas.

johnny was about to say some snide remark, but that was before he saw you in his peripheral vision.

he turns his head to face you fast—so fast, dallas could’ve sworn he heard his neck crack.

“he-hey, y/n!”

johnny shouts, his voice cracking. he mentally scolded himself for being such a loser.

you look over to the voice just to see johnny sitting on a bench with dallas. johnny lifted his hand off his lap slightly, trying to wave.

you smile at seeing him, you always liked johnny. you wave to him just like you did the rest.

“hey, johnny!”

you greet before walking away without a second thought.

johnny felt a 10 pound weight released off his shoulders at hearing his name.

johnny wasn’t in a good mood earlier but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t smile more after that.

Dallas Winston ;

y/n l/n. the girl that made the sun envious with her smile, the girl that made everyone want to be her, the girl everyone knew.

dallas winston, the boy that was hand in hand with the devil himself, the boy who was in and out of the cooler, the boy that everyone knew.

y/n always had a good day. you just gave off that aura that surrounded everyone in peace.

dallas never had a good day. sure he’s had okay days, but good was pushing it.

he only has a good day when y/n talks to him.

dallas had stumbled his way into bucks bar, a black eye and a bloody nose.

he knew buck was throwing a party tonight and it seems that whenever a party has booze, two-bit is right there.

he tripped over his own feet searching for two-bit. he found him, sitting on the couch with you sitting right beside him.

you were giggling as his friend smacked his knee, absolutely dying at his own joke. dallas felt like dying when he seen how well the two of you got along.

two-bit glanced around the room, locking eyes with dallas. he shot up out of his seat, rushing to his friend.

you followed his gaze and saw dallas all beat up. you didn’t know the guy well but, you still worried for him.

you walked over to them, two-bit shaking his friend by the shoulders.

“don’t die on me, dal! don’t follow the light!”

“shut up and stop shakin’ me, will ya?!”

you let out an breathy chuckle as two-bit gets off dallas.

dallys eyes shift towards your direction and his eyes widen at the sight of you.

he grins, raising his chin like he doesn’t have dried blood all over him.

“hey.”

he says, his thick new york accent more obvious than before.

you smile, waving at dallas. you knew who he was, you’ve seen him around and heard all the rumours.

“hi!”

his lips were slightly parted, his eyes moving up and down—obviously checking you out.

he was about to say something else, probably something not so kid friendly. two-bit had shoved his shoulder, causing dallas to stumble back.

two-bit has a firm grip on his friends shoulders, spinning him around to the exit. your new friend looks over his shoulder as he guides dallas away.

“bye, y/n!”

“bye!”

two-bit leans in close to dallas, snickering.

dallas kisses his teeth, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“what was that ‘bout? freezin’ up when seein’ a pretty lady? tsk tsk, how unlike you.”

“shut up.”

maybe dallas did freeze up when seeing you, or maybe it was just shock that a bad day finally turned into a good day. all because of y/n.

how embarrassing.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you always shined. people surrounded you all the time just to be around you. you were popular, everyone knew that.

ponyboy wasn’t outgoing but he wasn’t all that introverted either. he had the gang and that was enough for him.

but sometimes his eyes would wander towards where you and your friends were and wish he was over there with you, holding your hand.

ponyboy only had a good day when y/n invited him into stuff.

yeah, ponyboys had his fair share of good—even great days. but nothing like when you ask him to join you and your friends at the drive-in.

darry had gotten on ponyboy about his snide remarks during an argument, leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth for the rest of the day.

dally, johnny and ponyboy were walking into the dingo. dallas was talking about this broad he picked up last night while johnny and pony exchanged judging looks the longer dally went on.

the second they stepped in, they heard giggles and laughs in a booth seat. they sat at the counter, the old stools squeaking the second they sit.

ponyboy wanted to know who was having such a good day while his was absolute shit. maybe he could feel better about himself if it was one of dallas’ broads. he knew loads of embarrassing stuff about them through dally.

he leaned his elbows on the counter, slightly raising himself above his seat, trying to catch a glimpse.

that’s when he made eye contact with you. you were looking around the restaurant and just so happened to see ponyboy, looking like a weirdo.

he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

you grinned, standing up in your seat. it’s been a long while since you’ve seen pony, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him.

“pony! come ‘ere!”

you shout, waving your hand. all your friends had turned to look at him. he got nervous, his palms started to sweat. there were some of the toughest greasers with you, so he thought they’d laugh at him.

they just grinned or gave a poor excuse of a smile to him before continuing their own small conversation amongst each other. he figured no one could really be mean with you around.

ponyboy got up out of his seat, his heart beating out of his chest. dallas was whistling as he got up with johnny trying to make him shut up.

when he made his way over, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stood infront of the table. everyone was looking at him again, tough looks on their faces now.

you flashed your famous smile and ponyboy’s body relaxed, getting a small, awkward smile on his face.

“are you busy friday?”

you ask, eyebrows furrowed. you were leaning on the table now, trying to get a good look at him.

he shook his head no, excitement filling his body. he felt butterflies in his stomach at hearing you ask that.

“good! i was wondering if you wanted to go to the double movie that night with me and my friends?”

a pink hue was now on ponyboys face. he could feel it and he knew you could see it.

he smiled, grinning from ear to ear. he put a hand behind his neck, rubbing it out of embarrassment. he looked away, not being able to meet your gaze with such a nerdy expression.

“yeah. i’ll go.”

he answers, finally looking back at you. the other greasers now with smiles on their face, yours sticking out to pony.

“cool! i’ll see you then, alright?”

you say your goodbyes, leaning back into the seat. suddenly—everyones small conversations didn’t matter anymore. everyone focused on you as ponyboy walked away.

the dread, anger, and annoyance in ponyboys body seemed to evaporate after speaking with you.

he kept thinking about friday, friday, friday. he was so into his thoughts, he didn’t hear dallas’ teasing or johnny telling him to shut his trap.

ponyboy’s terrible day turned into a good one in the matter of seconds. all because y/n invited him to go watch movies.

Sodapop Curtis ;

y/n l/n was a pretty lady. it wasn’t a secret. sure, she had other dudes interested in her but none too special.

y/n l/n was kind, had a one of a kind sparkle in her eye, and was that girl you could take home to mom.

sodapop curtis was that pretty boy all the girls talked about, the cute grease, the one you could—also—take home to mom.

they’re basically the same person. so, nobody was really shocked when they noticed that soda’s grin was wider whenever y/n came around the DX.

sodapop only has a good day when y/n comes around to buy a pepsi.

today at the DX was slow. yeah, there were a few customers here and there. no one worth remembering, though.

until you walked in. you had a small smile on your face—the one you always had. you payed no attention to sodapop at the register and immediately went to the drinks.

sodapop shot up immediately, his back straight and chest puffed out. he pretended to be checking himself out in the window, trying to act cool as you walked up to the counter.

“is this all?”

he asks, after pretending to be the coolest dude on the planet. all that, just so you can think about him in a positive light. soda knows you see the good in everyone but he wanted to be the one to stand out.

he wanted you to think of him the way he thinks of you.

you nod your head, smiling as you pull out your wallet.

soda stops you, pushing the pepsi bottle closer to you.

he leans on the counter, his elbows supporting his weight. he looks up at you, grinning. you looked down at him, lips parted and eyes wide.

“it’s on the house.”

you grin from ear to ear, putting your wallet back. you were about to grab your drink before stopping yourself. you put your hand on the space next to it, resting it there.

“really?”

“totally.”

soda confirms, tilting his head. you flash a smile, teeth and all before grabbing the drink.

you thank him, rushing to the door. before leaving you look back at him, waving goodbye. sodapop gets off the counter and waves back, the smile never leaving his face once.

once he knows you can’t see him anymore, his whole body relaxes. he exhales, a pink hue adorned on his ears.

soda slams a hand on the counter, the other hand on his knee as he bends down. he’s acting like he’d just ran a marathon when in reality—he just talked to you.

his boring old day turned into a good day. a day he can look back on before he goes to bed.

Darry Curtis ;

you were kind to people you don’t know, talkative, calm, and children like you.

darry’s quiet, aloof, calm in a scary way, and children cry when he stares at them for to long.

darry knows of y/n, just like how she knows of him. they don’t know each other to say they’re friends, though.

but it seems that every time y/n offers darry something—his terrible day turns into a good, bearable one.

darry’s never one to incline more on his day rather than just saying ‘it was okay,’ other than those days. then it’s, ‘pretty good.’

it was real hot in tusla and unfortunately for darry—he was roofing houses today. he had no water, no shade, and a black shirt on. as if his luck couldn’t get any worse—he worked past his lunch break.

you were walking to this cute place you and your friend had set up to meet when you walked by the house with some unfortunate man working. he was sweating, panting, and looked like he was dying.

you felt awful about it and you looked for some sort of solution to help him. that’s when you remembered the water in your bag. you were saving it for later but—you can always buy another.

“hey, mister!”

darry hears a shout from below. he turns his head and looks down, meeting your gaze. he immediately feels, well—humiliated. he’s sweaty, not in the best clothes, and is probably beet red.

he puts his tools down, shoving his hands into any sort of pocket he can find. he stuck his hand into his nail holder and regretted the choice.

“yeah?”

you raised the water bottle up, extending your arm. you shook it a little. you’re on your the tips of your toes, trying to show darry the bottle better—just incase.

darry tried to focus on the bottle but his attention shifted from it, to you. even though tusla was the temperature of the sun, you didn’t have a hair out of place, outfit absolutely perfect.

“do you want it?!”

“sure!”

he agrees, nodding his head. you toss the bottle up, praying that the throw wasn’t too long or too short. darry caught the bottle with ease, not even batting an eye.

the coldness from the bottle shocked darry at first, but nonetheless—he spun the cap open and started chugging the drink.

you stood there with a smile, happy to help. darry took the drink away from his lips, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he looks back at you, a small smile on his face.

“thanks!”

“you’re welcome!”

you shout, walking away while waving. darry watched as you walked away, admiration filled his eyes.

it seemed like the water bottle was a good luck charm, the wind started to pick up, the sun moved to the perfect spot, and eventually—he stopped sweating.

when darry got home, soda was the first one to ask how his day was. he opened his mouth, ready to say, ‘it was okay,’ until he stopped himself.

he looked down at the crumbled and empty water bottle, thinking of you.

“pretty good.”

Steve Randle ;

y/n was understanding, nice, pretty, and hated violence in anyway.

steve was rude, loud, and always found himself in fights—verbal or physical.

no one really knows how the princess like y/n heard of steve randle. but it happened and no one can really stop it now.

steve found himself in a cycle. one day he could have an okay day because the tuffest car came into the DX or he’d have a bad day, a rude customer ruining it.

he only ever has good days when you come around to fill up for gas.

steve and soda were outside, cooling off. they were talking about god knows what before the coolest car pulled into the DX drive way. it went to the gas pumps, the two boys watching it intensely.

steve smacks sodapops shoulder—telling him to get inside so the person can pay. soda kisses his teeth and rolls his eyes, walking towards the entrance of the store.

steve looks back to the car, seeing you pumping gas. he felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs when he saw it was you.

he spun around, facing a window. he’s focused in on his reflection, looking for any food stuck in his teeth or a hair out of place. when he snaps back into reality, he sees soda laughing at him on the other side.

steve flips him off before walking away. he walks towards you, stopping right beside you. you look over to see steve, admiring your car. he had sparkles in his eyes the longer he looked at it.

you smile, giggling to yourself. he looks over to you, a small pink flush on his cheeks.

“tuff car you got, ms.”

he mumbles, shifting around. by this time, your gas tank was full. you took the pump out and put it back.

“thank you.”

you say, grinning. you begin to make your way to the DX, ready to pay for gas. you’re stopped in your tracks with a hand on your shoulder.

steve wanted to talk to you more, so he couldn’t just let your attention be drifted away so soon. he wipes off any dirt on his hands onto his uniform before stopping you from moving any further.

you look over your shoulder, looking at him with curious eyes. you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowed.

“it-it’s free. on me.”

he stutters. mentally—he’s beating himself up about how stupid he was for stuttering. his eyes shift from meeting yours to the ground.

you grin, who are you to decline free stuff? let alone gas. excitement was obvious from your expression to body language. seeing you this happy made steve smile—just a little though.

“seriously?”

“yeah.”

he answers, trying to seem cool and collected as if he didn’t just stutter 10 seconds ago. he lets go of your shoulder, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he raised his chin, acting nonchalant.

you chuckle to yourself. what’s so bad about this steve guy anyway? you think to yourself.

“well, thank you.”

you say, walking towards your car door. steve rushes to it before you, opening it before you can even get the chance.

he, himself didn’t even know why he did it. he just did. his hand gestures to the inside of your car, telling you to get in.

your lips are slightly parted, eyebrows raised. you smile, flashing your teeth as you get in your car—thanking steve once more before driving off.

soda ran out of the store, cackling like a hyena at steve. he didn’t pay any mind to his best friends teasing, his mind was only filled with you.

sure, the ac in the DX stopped working, sure he had a nasty run in with several customers today. but you made it all worth it. he’d be willing to do it all again if it meant he could retry you guys formally meeting, without stuttering.

Two-bit Matthews ;

y/n was known all around. you were that girl. you were sweet, pretty, a good listener, and pretty funny.

two-bit was also known all around. not for the same reasons, no. not in the slightest. two-bit was snide, can’t sit still, always has to voice his opinion, but also—funny.

two-bit has some days that are better than the rest, without a doubt in his mind. but anything that sticks out? hell no.

two-bit matthews only has a good day when y/n l/n laughs at his jokes.

two-bit was sitting in a car with a bunch of his bar friends. all the windows were rolled down to drown out the smell of booze in the vehicle.

he was making jokes left and right, his friends hollering without a care that the cars on opposite sides of them could hear.

“then—the poor bastard tries to hit me but winds up with a black eye, from his own fist!”

he howls, almost falling out of the car window because he was laughing so hard.

you and your friends were one of the unfortunate cars beside them. your friends were groaning and complaining. on the other hand, you found it rather amusing. you rolled down your window just in time to hear the end of his story.

you laugh to yourself, finding the way he tells stories endearing. two-bit heard a laugh that wasn’t obviously from any of his buddys—too cute of a laugh.

he looks to his right, seeing you laugh at his jokes with your window rolled down.

two-bit stops laughing and starts admiring you, your smile, your hair, you. you were just—wow. you look back at the car beside you, wondering why the man isn’t saying anymore jokes.

you meet his gaze, embarrassment replacing all emotions. your lips tighten as you look down, trying to play it off.

two-bit snickers to himself, finding you interesting. he leans out the window, half his body left inside the car.

“hey, pretty!”

he shouts, grabbing your attention. you smile, waving back to him. your arm was out of the window, attached to the door of the car.

“you must have some humour to ya if you’re laughin’ at my jokes, huh?”

he teases, laughing out loud. he looks down at the grass as he continues to find his words absolutely hilarious.

“well, i like to think so.”

you respond, letting out a breathy chuckle. even though you didn’t find his words as funny as he did—his laugh sure did make up for it.

“if you think ‘m so funny, why don’t we hang out sometime, eh?”

two-bit offers, a giant grin on his face. you smile at his question and just as you were about to answer, your friend cuts you off.

“like hell she would, two-bit!”

they shout before driving off, obviously pissed off at his antics and jokes. you stick your body out the window, waving goodbye to two-bit.

he waved back as he watched the car you were in disappear. yeah, he was sad you left. but shoot, knowing y/n thought he was funny was the brag of the century!

two-bit had a terrible hangover the next day. he wished he could say he regretted drinking that much, but he really can’t.

because you turned a night he should regret into a night he’ll remember.

[driaswrld]

what was i made for? — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 1.3k

summary : reader and the boys go through the aftermath of the star plasma vessel incident, which leaves reader questioning just how much things have changed and if there's even a way to move forward from here.

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : this is readers pov of how things are going, and im hoping to do satoru and suguru's own parts as well bcus this really fleshes out the dynamics in the trio. also, the tsr collection will dive into more of this in terms of character analysis for the sake of the au - but i won't kill y'all with too much angst. yet. IM KIDDING CHILL!!

other : jjk szn two spoilers! mentions of toji incident, mentions of hickeys, reader dissociates, rs label is undefined (they're literally dating without knowing it bye) yes im also having thoughts abt barbie goodbye. @kfmcykdy gets the privilege tag today <33

current casette : what was i made for? - barbie, the album.

The summer of ‘06, everything changed.

It started days after the incident with Riko.

You’d been sitting on Suguru’s bed, back leaned against the headboard as he smoked a cigarette, shirtless and flat on his back, head leaned over the edge of the bed.

More often than usual now, Suguru smokes.

Satoru makes fun with it all in good faith most times and takes a few drags from the stick himself before coughing out the smoke.

He’d say something along the lines of him and Suguru being the first to kick the bucket, leaving you behind — one from lung cancer the other from diabetes, cause truly, there’s nothing in this world living and breathing that could kill them.

Suguru would say, he isn’t afraid of death. And if he goes out, he wants it to be because you and Satoru smothered him in his sleep.

Everything’s changed, hasn’t it?

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, a puff of smoke leaving his mouth. Subconsciously, you lean forward a little to inhale it, chasing him. Always chasing.

Because if Suguru is smoke and Satoru is fire, what are you? If they’re the strongest, what are you? “Satoru forgot his umbrella.” You finish for him, like you’ve taken residence in his mind.

Suguru hates it. But his existence, it’s yours and Satoru’s isn’t it?

There’s a hickey adorning the base of Suguru’s throat, another trail of marks covering his collarbone. If you looked lower, you’d see more of you and Satoru embedded in his flesh. But even now, you can’t move your eyes below Suguru’s neck. So you look away entirely.

Too many times these past days have you looked straight at him, and have your mind transported back to the image of him bloody and bruised, caked in crimson from the edge of his shoulders, across the expanse of his chest down to the curved line of his pelvis.

It's funny how now the scar is shaped like a star.

That day, you’d just returned from a mission, a day later than your arrival was scheduled for. Your bag clattered out of your hand the moment you opened your dorm door. Drops of blood in dried trails led from the doorway to your bed, to the bathroom then back.

He came to you first, and you weren’t there.

“name.” Suguru whispers, and when you look over to him again, he’s sitting upright and looking at you. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks, and a chilly feeling blossoms on your skin. But it’s not from the rain breeze wafting through the window.

If I tell you, you’ll hold me.

And if you hold me, I’ll shatter in your arms.

“Just daydreaming.” You say and he looks at you, one brow raised slightly. Suguru leans to the side and flicks the cigarette butt through the open window.

He doesn’t ask. Maybe because he knows if Satoru asked him, he wouldn’t say it either.

Everything’s changed.

“Okay,” he says and Suguru, your beautiful Suguru — “name.” He calls to you again, except this time it comes out softer, more like a plea.

His body shifts atop the sheets, curling into a fetal position, the side of his cheek resting on the fat of your thigh. “Don’t go too far away from me next time,” he whispers, your fingers sifting through his dark hair.

Two days later, Satoru leaves for a mission in Shinjuku.

He wakes early, knocks on your dorm door twice, slides a note under the door with a thin packet of powdered candy taped to it.

You don’t get out of bed to pick it up. Satoru thinks you must be tired again. You look so tired these days.

When you finally wake up, it’s afternoon.

Suguru is home from his own mission, and he makes you a cup of tea, kisses your cheek and heads to his room.

Lately, the thing you and Suguru have most in common is that you sleep. All the time, sleep. You wonder if it’s for different reasons.

Then later, the clock in the corridor of the dormitory building strikes nine.

You hear Satoru’s shoes against the hardwood floors and you look over your shoulder from where you’re seated on the common room couch, some cheesy romcom playing on the tv.

“Yo.” Satoru smiles, white plastic bag rustling in his grasp when he pushes his sunglasses up to rest in his snowy hair. You smile back at him, and despite yourself, your gaze goes back to the tv, the soft lighting hiding the furrow of your brow.

Does he not notice?

No, it’s not that.

“Did you eat already?” He asks, setting the bag down on the coffee table in front of you. Rather than sitting beside you on the couch, he pushes the plastic bag to the side and rests his weight there on the coffee table, one leg crossed in an ‘L shape’ over the other.

His collar is high, even though it’s hot out.

Maybe, if you didn’t know him enough, all these things would sneak past your gaze.

Everyday, every new detail, every new scar whether physical or not, gnaws at you like a disease stirring your insides.

Satoru won’t say it, but he doesn’t like when anyone touches his neck anymore.

He used to love it, when Suguru would kiss his nape, when you move the soft strands aside to cut his hair. When the tip of Suguru’s nose tickles his adam’s apple, or when you lick a stripe at the bottom of his throat.

Limitless. Infinity. Invincible.

Until it isn't.

“Yeah, Shoko brought over takeout,” you say and the glow of his blue orbs don’t really feel like Satoru right now.

If this was a month ago, you’d laugh at yourself for thinking that. When is Satoru never Satoru?

But, has everything really changed?

You want to reach a hand out to him and unzip the top of his uniform, maybe then he could breathe a little easier. But why?

Why do your fingers tremble in your lap?

Something inside of you feels like your fingers will be met with a barrier. And if you try to touch him now, with a barrier between you two, it will kill you again.

More than the sight of his near lifeless body ever could.

“name?” He tilts his head to the side, and your eyes dart back to him, unaware that you even looked away in the first place.

There’s a sound of static from the tv just as your eyes meet his, and the two of you rise from your seats at the same time —

Who’s chasing who this time?

There's a scar there on his neck, you know it. He hasn't given you the chance to look at it for longer than a few seconds — Toji is burned into his flesh.

Or rather, a reminder of his weakness is.

Satoru opens his mouth to say something. But he isn’t as easily read as Suguru sometimes.

His emotions are clouded by more complex emotions. When Satoru feels, he feels everything.

He comes in a box with one hundred different user manuals in different languages that no one knows. Suguru was a translator, and you, a scribe, committing him to memory. But even then —

Why won’t you say what you feel, Satoru?

He clenches a fist by his side, like he's holding back, his gaze drops from yours and he walks over to the tv, knocking the top of it a few times to get it to stop glitching out. In between that he whispers, “I brought noodles — somen for Suguru and the cold soba you like…”

Satoru looks tired, he falters in his stride.

Strength, huh?

The air around you feels cold with the weight of his cursed energy, no matter how thin and how much he tries to regulate the flow, you can feel it.

You would know him blind.

How long have you been seeing everything in the world but us?

You’ve never wanted to cry more in your life.

“I’m sure Suguru could eat,” you whisper back, voice a little hoarse. Suguru is probably asleep, or pretending to, like he does sometimes, just so he doesn’t have to see Satoru after missions like this – where he’s trying so hard. So hard to do more, to be more.

And you don’t see it, but you have a feeling Satoru’s heart is breaking in two. Why?

Why are things so different no matter how hard we try?

“Yeah? I have a dvd of that movie we never got to watch somewhere under my bed—”

Maybe.

Everything’s changed.

But maybe, things need to change.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I heard you are looking for Barbie prompts👀👀

1. Ken learning to kiss (he's never done it before lol)

2. FtM reader struggling, Ken helps him realize he's just as much of a man as anyone else

3. Ken asking for advice on winning over Barbie, only to fall for reader

4. Ken revealing his struggle with toxic masculinity and his shame

God so many amazing prompts, I wish I could write them all but I don’t wanna bore anyone with how long of a fic that would be. So if anyone wants me to do the other prompts (1, 2, or 4) plz let me know.

Prompt 3: Ken asks for advice on how to win over Barbie, only to fall for reader in the process.

You cringed as another one of Ken’s failed attempts of impressing stereotypical Barbie. You had to applaud your friends’ tenacity because had it been you, you would’ve just given up in the moments where Ken had done nothing but persist in his pursuit of the beautiful blonde. You honestly didn’t a clue in whether or not it’ll do Ken any good in telling him that he would be better off in giving up, or it’ll just further persuade him into trying even harder in his efforts in a desperate form of hope that one day she’ll see him. Like actually see him.

Whatever the outcome, you knew that not matter what was being said by anyone, Ken was one to never know in when it’s okay to quit. His supposed advancements weren’t advancing anything in regards to his and Barrie’s relationship; they were still on square one in your humble opinion, as it was quite blatantly obvious that Ken needed Barbie like she was the oxygen he breaths but Barbie didn’t need Ken, she could very well breath happily without him.

Quickly seeing how you and Ken were the only ones left upon the peachy pink beach, you sighed as you made your way next to your blonde friend -who was very much in the literal sense lying face down within the sand- before sitting yourself down next to him with your knees propped up so that your arms may rest atop of them, followed softly after by your head feasting atop of your arms as you stared out beyond the horizon.

‘Well, that certainly went off without a hitch, didn’t it blondie.’ You said rhetorically whilst Ken groaned as he removed himself from the sand before practically slumping himself against your side.

‘First of all, my names Ken, not blondie, and secondly what is it that I’m doing wrong?’ Ken said, ‘I’d thought that she would totally be girlfriend/boyfriend with me by now but it seems that no matter how many times I’ve tried to make her see the man behind the tan, the more she doesn’t want me…what do I have to change about me to get her to admit that she likes me?’ He adds solemnly before looking over at you with a look of sheer desperation and hopelessness. ‘Tell me what it is that I have to change about myself in order to make Barbie see me.’ He asked of you, making you look his way as he grabbed your hands in his, almost like he was pleading to you to hear him. ‘Tell me what to change and I’ll do it, tell me what will make her see me as more Ken the boyfriend then Ken the friend.’

You stayed silent for awhile as you made the conscious choice to stare into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes that looked almost midnight blue with how they perfectly mimicked the starry sky above, or how they perfectly encapsulated the deepest depths of the very ocean he often -though not that often as he liked to claim- surfed. It was without saying that the Ken before you, your best friend Ken, was probably the most beautiful Ken you’ve ever come across, and while it’s not uncommon for friends to hype up the others beauty; there was obviously lines in the sand in regards to how far one can speak so highly of another’s appearance without it having somewhat romantic implications.

Upon realising how long you had been inside your own head, whilst externally just staring at him like a weirdo, you began to talk. ‘Here’s one thing you can stop doing and that’s going to extreme lengths to impress her.’ You told him, watching as his face slightly drop before feeling a panic consume you into continuing soliciting your advice, ‘I’m not saying you should cut it out all together but maybe tone it down a little, nobody here wants you to end up badly hurt yourself one day. Besides I think it’d be best if you just let her see the so called ‘man behind the tan.’ You added on as you pulled one hand of yours away from Ken’s hold in order to press it against his chest; more specifically where his heart lies. ‘Show Barbie the Ken that I know and love, the Ken who isn’t above helping others, the Ken who loves horses despite never having ridden one, the Ken who loves the beach, the Ken who loves his friends and will go above and beyond for them.’

You paused before trailing your hand upward so that it was now resting behind his neck, your thumb running across his skin in soothing patterns as you smiled at him, causing Ken to take a sharp inhale of breath. ‘You don’t have to change Ken, I don’t want my best friend to change for someone who won’t realise how lucky she is to have you in her life Ken.’ You utter softly before adding, ‘because I am and I prefer you the way you are right now, but I’m not the one your perusing and therefore I have no say in who you change for, just hope that you never do.’ You hauled yourself onto your feet before making your way off of the beach and back to your home, leaving Ken to stare after you in wonder and in awe.

‘Have I? Have I been going after the wrong person?’ Ken asked himself as thoughts of Barbie quickly became thoughts of you instead and the feeling that usually blossoms within him for Barbie, seemed to have only blossomed more then ever in regards of when it came to you. Naturally Ken was conflicted about the sudden change, wasn’t he suppose to be with Barbie? Then why did the notion of being your boyfriend felt more natural, more likeable then being Barbie’s boyfriend? He couldn’t understand how after perusing Barbie for as long as he has, his heart and mind have seemingly made peace with the fact that she wasn’t even at all interested in him, just as they were immediate in their change of trajectory and instead decided to set their sights on you after this particular night on the beach, and engaging within a conversation that relied on him to being open and honest about his feelings.

Ken just couldn’t understand why he felt so breathless when you smiled at him not too long ago, it felt as though you knocked the wind clear out of his lungs and he was still struggling on getting it back the more his mind stayed stuck on that particular moment. Ken was afraid to admit that he had fallen for someone new, but a small part of him was telling him that he had fallen for you way before the events that lead up to tonight’s conversation, telling him that it was no longer Barbie he was trying to impress but you.

[chiquitafresa]

~Vox headcanon~

Artist here! These are my personal headcanons and headcanons that I stole from others! So enjoy :)

-Vox often like to go on days working in his office and can forget to take breaks -When this happens Val or a Velvette will come in and drag him out, They only do this when Vox try to talk his way out -Wait wait! I need to finish this! -Vox you have been in there for a week. You’re coming with me and it final. -Vox absolutely have a aquarium filled with all type of sharks, and he knows the name of each one by memory -Vox why you have 100 different sharks? They all look the same- -THEY DO NOT, see! Ava and Levi look totally different! -Vox there’s no difference at all, how the fuck you know which one is which? -Vox will fight you if you touch his food, doesn’t matter who you are he will fight -Valentino is a example of this(hint:look at his antennas) -Vox doesn’t need to eat like other demons but it helps keep his battery at 100% -Sleep also helps with this, and so is eating battery’s Don’t ask how he find out -Vox mistaken a battery pack as chocolate bar -Vox have a cable tail (am not explaining) -said tail can be use to plug into a outlet and let him charge -main reason why he can stay up for countless nights -But the tail can be hidden, so Vox only let it out when he’s low on energy or is comfortable. Bonus: it’s every sensitive when touched -Someone please do a fanfic on this- -Vox eyes are connected to every camera of his, so he constantly watch and see everything in hell But do to this he can get easily overloaded or overwhelmed, so he doesn’t do it often -Vox likes to play with Val fluff -Val really likes it when he does -Vox helped Velvette and Valentino to become overlords when he first find them -So both of them view him with respect and high admiration -but their assholes when showing it -they never go too far tho -Vox have a whole mansion for a closet like Barbie in the dream house -but it all the same suit with different colors -Vox have many jobs before, shown in “stay gone” -Vox lies when it comes to these jobs but they believe him because how good of a business man he is -he most definitely started a cult -The cult only got bigger in hell without him knowing -Vox actually have a huge fan base, they constantly fighting against Alastor fans and their winning since Alastor hasn’t been there in over 7 years -most of them actually come from Vox old cult and continue it In his name but in hell -I mean who else is going to buy a 9000$ cereal -Valentino got really close to making a p0rn movie of Vox, for himself of course (Vox didn’t know this) -but Vox back out in the last minute because of work, so there’s Val Dream -Val was mostly mad about this, often trying to get Vox to reconsider -Bro cry over that for a whole week in his room,and is still sad about it till this day -Alastor and Vox have a equal obsession with each other -I don’t care if you think it one sided, Al is obsessed in seeing this man break and how much attention his getting

-Alastor will watch Vox in the shadows if he been inactivate for a while -Vox some how got his brand in heaven, but he can’t go there though the technology. But he still gets the money from there so it doesn’t matter for him -The other Vee’s doesn’t know this, it was part of the deal he made with Lucifer -Vox does feel sorry for accidentally for damaging Val antennas, Val on the other hand doesn’t really care about it that much -Am…sorry Val -For the least time Vox, it fine! It might take a while to heal but it’s fine -Vox watch Val all the time though the cameras in hell, do to his bad vision and damage antenna -Val doesn’t mind being watched and even likes it at times -Vox and Velvette will have days where they replace their parts together, Vox helps removing her limbs while Velvette helps repair/replacing wires -When Vox first replaced his head with a whole new TV he needed to heal for a whole month before he can walk around -Velvette and Val make sure Vox was never alone and help him with everything -Vox is such a sugerdaddy for Val And Velvette, he buy them anything they want -Vox, Velvette, and Valtino have matching rings, they sometime wear it and sometimes not -Vox likes all type of radio, but he can’t show his love for them because of Alastor -Vox 100% record all of Alastors radio shows as soon as he got here, over 200 recordings -Vox was a fan of Alastor when he was alive, and he still like listening to him (before he left for 7 years) -During those 7 years, Vox slowly got more paranoid by the next day, making his reaction with Alastor coming back… weird -Vox take anxiety pills to help with this, he also have ADHD medication that he takes everyday ———————————- Sorry if this was short! I just wanted to put down all my ideas somewhere for others (and me) to see! (can someone explain what happened to the bold words? It appears like that and I can’t undo it)

[radskull-69]

Adam x reader headcanon’s

First things first, this man is a pathetic bitch. Though he definitely won’t admit it to anyone, not even himself.

this guy has been divorced TWICE, like- goddamn bro.

but even then he’d be a cocky son of a bitch, so when he meets you he act as if the relationship is nothing but another lay.

so this is all before dating officially

though he does do small things to show he cares, like whenever you’re going out to eat he’ll ask if you want anything without asking you to pay.

def one of those guys that’s plays the guitar to you while making king uncomfortable eye contact, like that scene with Ken and barbie.

would only watch barbie with you because he thinks it’ll get him head that night, doesn’t understand the movie at all even if you try to explain.

calls you basic pet names like ‘babe’ ‘sexy’ ‘baby girl’, but his own special pet name for you is ‘cunt master’ to match his own title.

he’s over you like a cat, he’d be leaning heavily against your smaller frame while talking about nothing before he pushed you away and walked off with a ‘cya babe!’

makes you both share a Spotify playlist because he’s seen other people do it, but he will make fun of most of the songs you add

sends you links to porn he thinks are cool

sends you a million memes a day and when you don’t watch them all he gets pissy

HATES apples, apples are banned from the house. That goes for apple juice too.

Adam, the typa guy to wear a shirt like THIS

plays video games religiously (lol, get it?) and makes you play with him, but if you beat him he’ll always say ‘it’s because he let you’

encourages you to fold your wings in the same manner he does, and when you do you realise just how comfy it is. He’s smug about it

if he ever sees you in public he’ll start yelling your name and wave you over, he won’t stop yelling and he won’t be the one coming to you. Even if the other angels around get annoyed by his ruckus

takes you to work with him and when sera questions it he says your his ‘emotional support angel’ and if they make you leave he’ll call it work abuse.

listens to music as he sleeps, but it’s never calm music. It’s always rock or metal blasting in his ears and he sleeps like a baby because of it

encourages you to get matching tattoos, he feels it’ll make this situationship feel more permanent without him needing to say it

his tattoo says ‘dick master’ and yours say ‘cunt master’

cats hate him and he hates cats

makes you both go to the beach just so he can show off his bod, and totally not to check out yours-

btw, this guy is chubby. Even then he gloats about his body (as he should) but deep deep down he is insecure, he’ll never admit it tho.

his tinder profile was so cringey thank god he doesn’t have tinder anymore

Makes Candace jokes ALL THE DAMN TIME

[vritest]

I love you. (Say it back) Pt. 2

leon kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: None??? Kissing. Vandetta Leon???

PART 1

You couldn’t feel more ashamed in your life then right now.

You stood there for a while, processing everything you were seeing. After a while you came to a conclusion…

Your eyes were definitely not deceiving you.

The little girl on his shoulders was beautiful, and looked exactly like her father. Blonde, blue eyes, that beautiful nose you loved so much.

And the smile.

God the smile.

Leon’s smile.

One you haven’t seen in so long, too long.

You continued to stand in front of the doorstep, dumbfounded, feeling absolutely ashamed and embarrassed. How could you have not thought of this before?

Of course he had moved on. It’s been years that he hasn’t seen you, or even heard your voice. (Though he doesn’t even know how he went that long without your voice).

You squeezed your eyes shut.

This was all a dream. Go back to sleep Y/N.

You heard a small chuckle, and then some wait being put on your shoulder.

“You okay?” Leon asked worriedly staring at you, your eyes still closed and still standing on his porch.

Oh fuck, this is real life isn’t it?

“Daddy, she’s funny” A little voice said giggling softly.

You finally opened to it eyes looking up at the little girl who was playing with Leon’s brown hair. She probably thinks youre crazy.

“Shit- I’m so sorry… I feel so stupid- I’ll go-“

There it was. The historic wrist grab.

“Come in.” He asked, almost pleading. His eyes suddenly resembling puppy eyes.

“Please.”

You cleared your throat. Your eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? The mother of your child is in there-“

“What?” He asked interrupting and raising an eyebrow.

“I heard you say ‘Honey’ Leon. I’m not crazy.” You stopped. “And I’m not that type of person, so I’ll let you live your life and-“

Suddenly you heard laughter coming from the now, brunette man. His daughter looking down at him confused and then laughing as well, probably, not knowing why.

You just stared at him confused.

“When you knocked the door, this little one” he stopped pointing up to the little girl and the tucking her rib cage. He continued. “Decided to try and open the door, and I told her I could get it. She wanted to see who it was herself so I placed her on my shoulders. And to answer your question her mom doesn’t live with us.”

You didn’t know it was possible to feel this kind of embarrassment in your whole life.

“You wanna come in now?” He asked tilting his head.

———

“So… if you don’t mind me asking…. where’s her mom?” You asked Leon, as he walked towards the table you were sitting at and brought with him two glasses of water.

He sighed deeply.

“I was feeling like shit after you left, so I went to the bar, one last time. Got waisted, and started making out with this girl.” He took a sip of water before continuing.

“Then we went back to my place and you know, had sex…”

You groaned.

“I know how baby’s are made Leon..” You said in a whiny tone not wanting to hear about Leon’s love life after you left. Trying to hide the fact that it broke your heart that he went to the bar to escape his feelings even though you had told him not to.

He chuckled bringing you back to reality.

“Well anyway, she managed to remember my address and she didn’t even bother to tell me her name. She just…appeared at my doorstep a few months later and gave her to me and told me “she’s yours”, and then left… just like that.”

He sighed, looking towards the little girl who was in the living room, not far from where you and Leon were sitting.

She had a smile on her face as she played with to Barbie dolls.

Leon let out a smile. You continued to stay silent, not knowing if you should cry for him or if you should be worried about how he’s doing now.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me Y/N. The reason why I haven’t drank in almost 7 years.”

He said passionately. You smiled, admiring his adoration for his daughter, but also the fact that he had actually listened to you.

“I’m glad you listened to me, Leon.” You sighed before you opened your mouth again.

“I never really got a chance to properly apologize for yelling at you that morning I was just trying-“

“To help me, I know Y/N. I don’t know what I would do if you never spoke up, so thank you.” He stopped, “And I’m sorry too. For being an asshole all those years, I swear I always did love you. Still do”

You smiled, the small fuzzy feeling filling up your stomach as sounds of the little girl still playing with her dolls filled the room.

You tuned back to look at Leon who was looking right at you, waiting for a response. Waiting that somehow… you wouldn’t hate him for not waiting for you.

“Aww don’t get go soft on me now, Leon.” You chuckled.

He rolled his eyes, as you giggled and took another sip of water.

As you took another sip, all Leon could think about was how much he had fucked up your guy’s relationship. How much he regrets how he acted. How much he wished you hadn’t seen him like that. How much he would’ve loved to have his first child with you. How much he wouldn’t loved if he had just…waited.

He sighed again, leg shaking underneath the table.

“I swear when I say, I love you. Always have, since the day I saw you in the back of our history class.”

“I missed you.” You muttered out.

“Yeah, I know” he laughed. “You wouldn’t have come all the way over here to see me if you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, hitting his shoulder pretty loud you guessed because here came his little monster coming to defend him.

“Hey! Don’t hit my dad!” The little girl said running up to her dad, to hug him and giving you the stankest eye ever. Leon laughed ruffling the little girls hair.

“It’s okay baby, she was just playing around.” He said smiling. Then a realization hit.

“How could I forget- hun this if my-“ he stopped looking out from his daughter, meeting your eyes, waiting for you to answer. You cleared your throat.

“Friend. I’m your daddy’s friend, Y/N.” You said smiling. She smiled too.

“I’m Sherry.”

Your eyes widened at the name. The name of the girl he had saved in Raccoon City, how cute.

“Sherry…” you said trailing off looking over to Leon, who was smiling and nodding his head. He knew you were both thinking of the same thing.

“That’s a beautiful name.” You said smiling to the little girl.

———

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting down with Leon and Sherry eating pizza that he had ordered after probably, 4 hours playing with Sherry.

She absolutely loved you. She hadn’t had a mother figure yet, but even though she had just met you, she already adored you.

Leon loved to see you playing with her, acting like she was your own it brought him happiness he hadn’t felt in a while. The type of happiness that only you could bring him, nobody else could.

After dinner, Sherry went to bed telling you a quick “Good night”, before Leon tucked her in bed, with a quick peck on her forehead.

He walked back towards the couch you were sitting in watching the News.

You and Leon tried to catch up as much as you possibly could.

After 6 years a lot had happened.

You told him about your failed dates, which he could only chuckle at, telling you that you really lost all your charm after you left him. Never telling him the whole reason that all your dates were a total fail, was because he was the only one on your mind.

He told you about his missions. How hard it had been going on them and worrying if he wasn’t able to see his daughter again. It made you worry about him, and the constant pressure that’s put on to him.

Not only does he have to work for the president, but now his daughter is in constant danger.

“I’ll take care of her, if you’d like… you know, while you go on those missions”you offered, sitting comfortably on the sofa, legs crossed looking up at him with those eyes, the ones he loved and looked forward to seeing them every day.

He smiled at your kind offer. “I do appreciate it, Y/N. A lot, I just don’t wanna cause any trouble-“

“You don’t have to worry about it Leon. She’s your daughter, she needs someone to keep her safe.”

You smiled.

“And plus I think she likes me. I mean she let me use her dolls, when I was younger I never let anyone even think of playing with mine.”

You two both laughed.

“What would I do without you Y/N?” He asked, letting a small chuckle and turning to look at you grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“I don’t even wanna imagine”

The two of you looked at each other for a second, his hand still on yours. His touch taking you back to when he was yours. When life was simple.

He leaned towards you slightly closing his eyes.

How cute you thought, he hadn’t changed the way he kisses one bit.

Finally, as if he had been waiting for this his whole life, his soft lips landed on yours. Immediately he pulled back, he was moving way too fast.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take things too fa-“

You pulled the collar of his shirt, desperately kissing him. Hoping that it would make up for everything that had happened before this very moment.

“I love you.”

•••

Soooo, what do y’all think about the uno reverse card I pulled on you guys 🤭. And yes I do know Sherry didn’t die, I just thought the reference would be cute lol.

(I guess y’all deserved a happy ending 🙄)

•••

[saintharrington]

— sugar daddy steve.

contents: 18+ content! minors DNI! sugar daddy!steve, sub!steve, begging, f receiving oral.

word count: 2.3k

“what about this one, stevie?” you ask your doting boyfriend, holding the pink dress up against your frame — its short, and has pretty frills around the hem, and it’s so sweet that steve might melt right then and there.

“i think you’ll look perfect in that, sweetheart. you wanna try it on? or you wanna look for some more?” steve hums, taking the dress and draping it over his arm with the other pieces and the abundance of bags he had resting in the crook of his elbow.

you can’t help the blush that blossoms over your face at the compliment, even though you should be entirely used to his sweet talking and his need to spoil you rotten. he loved to give, give, give. it was how he showed you he loved you, to put his girl in only the finest of things, making sure your nails were always perfect and your hair was done and at any given time, there would be multiple blooming bouquets of expensive flowers in your apartment because you told him you thought they were pretty, and steve loves how you smile when you stick your nose in the petals and inhale the floral scent.

sure, steve wasn’t super successful and his job didn’t pay that much, but having rich parents meant he had a whole load of money that was burning a hole in his deep, deep back pocket. a fat wad of cash, and credit cards in his daddies name that were screaming for him to spend — to spend it all on you.

you lean in close, kissing the soft skin on his cheek before you go back to shopping, picking out more things that you know will drive steve crazy. all skirts and dresses that left little to the imagination, and strappy heels and sandals and flats that wouldn’t look out of place on a barbie doll.

“will you help me try everything on?” you look up at him through lowered eyelashes as you ask him, big doe eyes shining into his with a pout weighing heavy on your lips.

steve wouldn’t say no to you, especially when you’re asking him to watch you model — but you couldn’t help putting on the works anyway, loving how he fumbled his words after you pleaded with him, his dick twitching in his pants at the mere sight of you.

“course, baby.” steve nods, big hand resting on your lower back as he guides you towards the changing rooms. “gonna put on a little fashion show for me?”

“only if you behave, daddy. no funny business.” you threaten him before disappearing behind the curtain, making sure he doesn’t follow behind you. it makes him dizzy, your stern voice and how much control you have over him.

steve just sighs, dropping himself onto the velvet seats outside of your cubicle. he’s lucky that it’s basically empty, because he’s hard and it’s becoming apparent — he knows that he’ll end up between your thighs in that dressing room one way or another.

he occupies himself with dirty thoughts while you change into one of the dresses he picked for you, peeling your clothes off in front of the floor length mirror. the white cotton underwear set underneath expertly picked because steve loves it, you know you wont make it through the day without him trying to get you out of your clothes at least once.

“what’d you think?” you ask steve when you pull the curtain back, twirling around so that your skirt flares up, flashing more skin than intended. “yes or no?”

“definitely yes.” steve practically moans at the sight, before bounding out of the chair and over to you, running his hands over your shoulders and down your sides as if he’s inspecting the fabric. “god, how did i get so lucky?”

you can’t help the giggle you let out, tiptoeing to press a chaste kiss to his rose tinted lips, before turning back to disappear into the changing room again. however, this time steve grabs your wrist and follows you in without any time for you to protest.

“steve, get out! i told you no-“

“come on, angel. i’m so hard.” he’s whining, literally whining, pouting like a spoiled child.

“no, steve, people will hear us.” you whisper, lips pressed together sternly as you crossed your arms over your chest.

there was really no use in putting up a fight, because the wet patch soaking through your panties was a clear indicator that steve would get what he wanted.

“baby, please.” steve persists, his clammy palms sliding under the hem of your dress as you scoff at him. they run up your thighs, squeezing your hips and up onto your waist. “daddy needs you, i’ve been so good to you, haven’t i?“

he sinks to his knees, rucking the dress up around your hips so he can get better access to what he wants. steve presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses into the insides of your thighs and around your clothed cunt. he could see the dark spot forming between your thighs, growing bigger with every kiss.

“didn’t i say no funny business, daddy? couldn’t even get past the first dress.” you huff, adopting the same pout that steve was doing, sticking out your bottom lip even more to mock him.

steve almost cums in his pants from the condescension dripping off of your tongue, the look of faux pity seems absolutely menacing in place of your soft and easy demeanour. all you do is take from him, and you’re still asking for more. you’re the devil, he realises, a she-devil — with her dainty claws sunk so deep into his heart, sucking his soul from his body and he’d quite frankly let you take everything from him if it meant he could get even just a little taste.

“princess, please. pretty please.” steve begs, voice airy and full of desperation. his forehead presses against your stomach and his eyelashes tickle your skin when he blinks. “please, let daddy eat your pretty little pussy. you’re killing me here.”

your cheeks are flaming, skin hot to the touch as you look down at him. its like he’s worshiping you, on his knees like a faithful servant with his head bowed. steve harrington must really, really love you and your pretty little pussy if these are the lengths he’ll go to.

“okay, daddy. you can eat my pussy if you want it that bad.” you agree, pulling him back by the hair to look up at you. “but you gotta take me to the jewellery store after this, i saw a necklace that i really really want.” you smile as he nods, not even caring what you’re asking for now. he’d march you straight to tiffany’s and buy your their most expensive jewel if you asked for it.

“anything for you, doll face. but you gotta stay quiet for me, think you can do that?” you nod eagerly as he slides your underwear down your legs. steve stands up, kissing you briefly before stuffing your balled up panties straight into your mouth, muffling the sounds of defiance that would’ve escaped otherwise.

steve quickly returns to his knees, parting your legs so he can get a better view of his kryptonite. your cunt was glistening, your wetness seeping from your hole and spread all over your pussy. its glazed over in your own slick, fitting for his favourite dessert.

you drool around the fabric stuffed in your mouth, biting down lightly when steve pushes you up against the mirror and pulls your thighs apart, wasting no time in foreplay before diving between your legs.

his tongue licks a flat stripe through your folds, collecting all your sweet juices on his tongue and you can feel him moan against you at the taste. he savours it, letting it coat his tastebuds before his tongue parts you and flicks lightly against your clit.

the panties in your mouth were a great idea, muffling the cry you let out when his tongue goes faster, the tip rolling over your clit repeatedly as your knees tremble. you can taste yourself off of the fabric. its relentless, no build up to ease you in, just pure stimulation from the get go and it makes your brain foggy. you cant help the way you grind down onto steve’s mouth when he latches onto you, the mean facade left behind as you become the desperate one.

theres that feeling in your tummy — a tightness, almost an ache that keeps pulling tighter and tighter when steve laps at your hole, his nose nudging at your clit when you roll your hips down again and again and again until the pressure is unbearable.

steve is in heaven between your thighs — your wetness drips down his chin, coating his mouth and even the tip of his nose that presses into you. his cock is hard and heavy, throbbing inside of his pants as he ruts his hips into nothing, whimpering at the feeling of his dick rubbing against the rough denim fabric.

his hands are on your ass, kneading at the soft skin and moving you against him. it gives him leverage when his tongue pushes into your entrance, fucking it into you with all the force his jaw could muster.

“daddy, daddy, m’ gonna fucking cum, fuck.” you mumble, voice all high pitched and indecipherable, coming out in weak babbles rather than words but steve understands perfectly.

the way your hole spasms and clenches on his tongue, and the way your hips jerk erratically and out of rhythm let him know you’re close already. his tongue pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty but thats quickly forgotten about when he finds your clit again, sucking it into his mouth harshly. his tongue is magic in the way it circles you, even when his lips are still wrapped around the swollen bud.

you cant help but stare, his big nose pressed against the top of your pussy with his hair fanning over his forehead messily as a result of you tugging at it. you make a mental note to make him beg you more, because he’s eating you out like a starved man — like he’s a dying man, and you’re the fountain of life.

steve makes a mental note to beg you more at the same time. his head is reeling, drinking in the sound of your muffled moans (and his too) and the slurping noises as he eats you out, his cheeks are a bright crimson from the lewd scene and because of the heat, and the lack of oxygen from being nestled into your cunt. he’d happily suffocate in your sweet, little princess pussy. what a wonderful way to die.

your whole body shakes as you cum, your cunt pushing down onto steve’s mouth as you ride your orgasm out. the pressure inside of you explodes with a bang, as your ears ring and your vision goes. the release is euphoric, it feels like you’re weightless and floating, only brought back to earth when steve pulls off you.

“good girl, you done so well for daddy.” steve coaxes you back down, trailing kisses across your stomach and standing up to face you. “such a sweet little pussy, i can’t get enough of it.”

his face is bright red, and his hair is an absolute mess, and your cum has coated his lips and his chin and he’s just grinning at you like an idiot as he drinks in your expression. you look just like he does — bright red, perfectly styled hair now frizzy and out of place, except your mouth isn’t coated in cum, its just plugged with your panties as you breath heavily around them. steve, ever the gentleman, plucks them from your mouth and tosses your underwear haphazardly behind him before kissing you.

the taste of you that lingered in your mouth before was now front and centre, all traces of steve harrington lost and replaced by you. not that either of you were complaining about that.

“i think we definitely need to buy this dress now.” you say when he pulls off of you, talking about the dress that you forgot to take off.

“i wouldn’t have let you leave this store without it anyway, baby. looks too good on you.” steve chuckles, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead before pulling it over your head and helping you back into the dress you came in wearing.

both of you catch your breaths before you slip out of the dressing room, hairs smoothed back down and faces fading colours of fuchsia. you’re glad that your own dress is a tad longer, because your panties were soaked in your saliva and there was no way that you’d put them back on now. instead you’d have to bare walking around with a soaking wet pussy, that could be exposed with just a slightly wrong movement.

steve knows it too, which is why he flattens your dress over your ass when you wobble towards the checkout on weak legs. you’re almost certain that you got away with it scot-free, sure that nobody saw or heard or knows what went down in their store just five minutes ago — but that idea is foiled when steve lays your clothes over the counter, and the cashier refuses to make eye contact with either of you, their face just as red as the both of yours were. there aren’t many words exchanged when steve hands his credit card over, and you just stand there looking pretty, not bothering yourself with the awkwardness.

steve buys you that jewellery you asked for in the end, and although you don’t go shopping for gifts for him — you certainly have something he wants, and you know just how to repay your debts to him.

some credit is due to @ringpop-poppy for this idea bc this is a mash up of some the steve concepts ive read there !!! im a whore!!

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️LIKE A FAMILY❄️

A/N: happy holidays cuties!! this is the first fic out of the three stories coming throughout christmas, i hope you'll enjoy them all!

WORD COUNT: 2k

PAIRING: older!Harry x single-mom!reader

SUMMARY: Harry never thought he would have a family to celebrate Christmas with, but now he has you and your daughter who he loves as his own and it seems like the little girl feels the same way about him.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

Harry hasn’t been this excited and nervous about Christmas since he was a little boy, when he still believed in Santa. He is thirty-seven now, yet his eyes pop open at six in the morning as if an alarm went off.

On his left he sees that you’re still peacefully asleep, your hair is a mess and your lips are slightly parted as you’re softly snoring beside him. He never told you that you snore, it’s his little secret, he knows you’d get embarrassed and try to find a way to stop yourself from doing it, but he actually loves it.

He tries to relax and stay in bed a little longer, but he can’t stay put and he doesn’t want to wake you up, so he navigates his way out of the bedroom to make breakfast. He passes the giant Christmas tree, it’s the biggest he has ever gotten, but in the past few years he had no one to celebrate with and he didn’t want to waste on Christmas decoration just for himself. This year, however, he went all out so you and Tia would have the best first Christmas you spend living together. It’s a special occasion and Harry wanted it to be perfect and memorable.

If someone told him three years ago that he would have an enormous Christmas tree in his penthouse with dozens of gifts for a little girl underneath, he would have snorted out a laugh and called them crazy. Even maintaining a stable relationship felt like impossible a while ago, but a lot has changed.

He met you and your daughter, Tia.

He had his doubts about dating a single mom, but you had him wrapped around your finger even before your first date. He fell hard and fast and he changed his whole lifestyle to suit you and it was the best decision he has ever made. Now, two years later you’ve officially moved in just a month ago and you’re spending the holidays together.

Like a family.

Harry never saw himself as a father figure, he has come to terms with the possibility of never having kids a long time ago. Yet his life has turned upside down because of one three years old princess who is the true ruler of his luxurious home these days. There are dolls and toys everywhere, a pink towel and bathrobe in his spotless modern bathroom, a tiny, yellow raincoat with daisies on it hung up next to his Gucci coat and most of the times Barbie movies are played on his flat screen.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He walks over to the fridge that has Tia’s schedule on it, Harry’s name put up next to her ballet classes, it’s been his duty to pick her up every Tuesday and Thursday, everyone in his office knows he leaves the building at four no matter what to be at the dance studio by four thirty.

He decides to make pancakes, Tia’s favorite. He grabs everything he needs from the fridge and the pantry before mixing them up and grabbing a pan. Stacking them on each other he sets the table for three, brews the coffee just how you like it and makes hot chocolate for the little girl.

“You’re up early.”

He hasn’t even noticed you were approaching him as he flips another pancake. You walk up to him and press a loving kiss between his shoulder blades before wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks.

“No. Bed was cold without you though,” you hum as you watch him put the pancake on top of the pile and pouring more of the mixture into the pan.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I hope you’re not nervous,” you chuckle, but you hit the nail on the head and his silence proves that to you. “H, she will love your gifts. All eleven of them,” you add smiling. He went a little overboard with toy shopping, but he wanted Tia to have the best time the first year she spends Christmas with him. He knows how big of a change it was for the two of you to move in with him and he wants to show you how happy he is that you took this step.

“Just want everything to be perfect,” he mumbles shyly, finishing up the last pancake.

Moments later he hears Tia’s door open and a pair of tiny feet are tapping on the granite floor as she runs down the hallway, appearing with her crazy bed hair and wearing her favorite Christmas jammies.

“Santa was here?” is the first thing she asks, dragging her giraffe plushie after her. “Santa was here!” she shrieks seeing all the gifts underneath the tree and Harry can’t help but smile to himself, thinking about how you and him placed all the neatly wrapped boxes out last night after she went to sleep.

“He was, but you need to eat breakfast first,” you remind her as you walk up to her and take scoop the little girl up into your arms.

“Oh, pancakes!” she grins happily when she sees what’s on the table.

“Yes, Harry made them for us,” you hum, kissing her cheek before making her sit in her usual seat. She’s still a bit too small for the table, but she insists on eating like you and Harry lately.

“Thank you!” she smiles at him and you don’t miss how his cheeks blush.

“You’re welcome, princess.” He places everything needed on the table before walking past behind Tia, pressing a kiss on top of her head and taking his seat.

Tia talks about the dream she had and Harry listens to her as if she was explaining the meaning of life to him. You help her with the syrup, but let her handle her food alone. She only gets one little spot on her jammies, though her chubby cheeks have syrup all over them.

“Can you clean her up a bit? I’ll clean the table,” you ask Harry and he nods before moving over to Tia with a napkin to wipe her face as much as he can.

He then takes her to the bathroom to wash her hands and the rest of her face while you load the dishwasher. You remember when you met him, Tia had just turned one and Harry was scared to even hold her hand. He said she was so small and fragile, he didn’t feel like he could take good care of her. Now he is the first one to pick her up whenever she demands to be carried, he loves wrestling with her on the couch, throwing her up into the air and of course he catches her every time with ease.

“Gifts! Gifts!” she chants as she rockets out of the bathroom, into the living room where the Christmas tree is, Harry following behind her.

The three of you settle by the tree on the soft carpet as Tia scans over all the boxes.

“Which is mine?” she asks.

“See, this is your name,” you point out one of the boxes that has her name written on it. “T-I-A, look for that.”

Tia sorts out all the boxes that belong to her and starts ripping the apart while Harry watches her reaction to all of them anxiously, relief washing over him every time he sees her face light up. Dolls, plushies, clothes and all kinds of toys, Tia got everything she put on her list and even more.

You open your gifts and you give Harry his, though it was a struggle to find something to give to a man who has everything he wants, but when he opens the box and sees the tickets to his favorite Broadway show his face lights up and he kisses you softly, mumbling his thank you against your lips.

“Mommy, can I?” Tia asks you when every gift has been unwrapped. Harry furrows his eyebrows in confusion while you know exactly what your daughter is asking you about.

“Yeah, I’ll grab it for you,” you smile, standing up from your spot and disappearing in Tia’s room for a moment before returning with an envelope.

“What’s that?” Harry asks as he watches you join him on the floor again.

“It’s a gift! I made it for you!” Tia announces in excitement as you hand her the envelope so she can give it to Harry, who is shocked to be receiving something from Tia.

“Oh… Thank you so much,” he says, taking the gift from her.

Tia starts jumping up and down giggling as Harry opens the envelope and pulls a drawing out. His lips part as he examines the masterpiece and he realizes what it is.

“It’s us!” Tia explains as she climbs to Harry’s lap so she can point at the figures. “This is mom, this is me and this is you!” she points at the stick figures in the middle. “We’re in the park!” she adds, which explains all the green scribbles around the stick figures, a big yellow splodge in the corner of the paper which he assumes is the Sun.

It’s an average kids drawing, he knows Tia loves drawing, but what completely takes his breath away are the wobbly words underneath the figures that she wrote probably with your help.

Mom, Me, Dad, the words read, the first D in dad is backwards and her M’s are giant compared to the other letters but it doesn’t matter, he is fixated on the last word.

“Y-You wrote these?” he asks, his eyes first moving to Tia and then to you. You sit with a warm smile, watching the two of them have this amazing moment.

“Yes! Mommy helped!”

“And… you know what they mean?” Harry asks carefully and Tia nods.

“Mom, Me and Dad,” she answers and Harry’s eyes start dwelling instantly as she wraps his arms around the little girl, hugging her to his chest tightly.

“So I’m Dad?” he asks when he lets go of Tia, but she remains sitting on his lap.

“Mhm,” she nods, playing with his necklace, probably not even realizing how major this moment is to Harry. “If you want,” she adds.

“I would love to be your dad, Tia,” he says with the most lovesick smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

The three of you stay and play a little more with Tia before Harry gets up to put her drawing up to the fridge. He can’t help but stare at it grinning.

“She’s been so excited to give it to you,” you say as you walk up to him, linking your arm with his as the two of you look at the drawing.

“You’re not mad she called me dad?” he asks, worries popping up in his head suddenly.

“H, I cried when she asked me to help her write dad on the picture,” you admit with a chuckle. “I thought she would have to grow up without a father and now she has the absolute best dad I could ever wish for her. I could never be mad at that.”

His shoulders loosen up as he leans down and steals a short kiss.

“You think I’ll be a good dad?” he quietly asks.

“You are a good dad, Harry. You read her bedtime stories, watch all the Barbie movies with her, you ignore all work calls when you’re with her, she feels safe with you, she trusts you and she loves you. I can never thank you enough for being this amazing with her.”

“I love her too,” he softly says. “How could I not? She is… the most perfect little princess,” he adds with a little chuckle.

“She is your princess,” you grin before pushing yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss his lips. “And… I don’t want you to freak out, but… if you ever decide you want another pair of tiny feet running around here… I’m down for that.”

“You want another?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up at your suggestion.

“With you, I would have a dozen more,” you chuckle. ”But one would be nice too. I think Tia would be a great big sister.”

“She would,” he nods, his hand wandering down to yours, rubbing his thumb over your naked ring finger. “Let’s get back to this when you have something here,” he says with a smirk and your heart skips a beat at his words.

“Okay,” you say breathless, pressing your lips to his again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[the-boy-meets-evil]

take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt. 2

(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut rating: explicit (for the full fic) warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, halloween parties, mentions of cheating, reader's boyfriend is an asshole, reader's brother is chan's age and reader is 2 years older, eventual smut (in pt 3 - see that for warnings), any names of other idols are considered to be OCs word count: ~7.7k (full fic is roughly 23k) a/n: huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. make sure you go back and read part 1 for context, this is part 2 (so only 1 part left!). also thank you to my bby indi for creating an amazing banner @classicscreations. if you want to be tagged in the last part send an ask or dm or just comment 💕

tagging: @christinewithluv @aaniag @dejavernon @tbzhub @bitchlessdino @seungkwansphd

part 1 | masterlist | part 3

When there’s multiple nights of dressing up for Halloween, it’s harder to put as much effort into costumes. At least that’s how Chan feels about it. So, he knows that he’s taking the easy way out by dressing up as one of the Kens from the recent Barbie movie, but he’s also not really bothered about trying to come up with something more elaborate. Not when it’s a Saturday night and they’re all going to a house party. He’s got another costume planned for the night of actual Halloween that he put a little more thought into. 

He’s also sure to arrive a little later, because this is one of Seokmin’s friends and Chan doesn’t really know the people hosting the party. It’s not like that matters, really. Things like this are always pretty open as long as you know someone there. Even though Seokmin said he’d be there early helping to set up, Chan still doesn’t want to be that guy that shows up at an inappropriate time. The unexpected tradeoff is that he sees you before he even gets to the front door. It’s almost comical to see that you’re dressed up as one of the Barbies from the movie. It’s hard to tell which one under your coat. Not that it’s surprising. Chan figures you won’t be the only ones to pick a Barbie theme. Still, it’s like you coordinated without even meaning to. You force a smile when you notice him, and he sees that you’re on the phone.

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Your voice sounds angry when it reaches Chan’s ears. 

He hesitates when he’s far enough away to give you space, yet still close enough that he can offer support if you need it.

“No, I always have to understand. I don’t have to understand tonight. It’s a Saturday night and we planned this party weeks ago,” you retort. 

Chan figures he probably should let you be because it’s clear that you’re talking to your boyfriend. It could be a minute before this particular conversation ends. Your eyes watch Chan as he goes to step around you and you reach out to grab his arm. You mouth “please wait” to him. That’s enough to make him stop completely.

“It’s not just a stupid Fall tradition. This is Halloween. Everyone celebrates Halloween,” you start and then roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m aware that you’re 28, but what 20-something doesn’t celebrate Halloween? Be so fucking for real.”

It’s hard to know where to look because all Chan can focus on is your tone. It’s not upset or defeated. It’s angry. Maybe you’ve had something to drink already, maybe you’re just fed up. He wouldn’t blame you. 

“Forget about it, Seungsik. You do whatever it is you have to do,” you say, pausing for him to speak. “Yeah, I heard you say you have to work but it’s a Saturday night. So, you do what you’re gonna do and I’ll be with my friends. Don’t bother coming over if you were even still considering it.”

Your hand is still on Chan’s arm, not that he would leave anyway. It would be awkward to stay this long only to leave when the conversation is clearly over. 

“Yeah, sure, we can talk tomorrow,” you say. You don’t say a goodbye or an “I love you” before hanging up.

“Let me guess, Seungsik bailed again?” Chan asks. He knows he shouldn’t sound so snarky about your boyfriend and also doesn’t care.

“Shocking, right?” you snort. 

“Well, at least you still have friends here,” Chan says and motions for you to head into the house ahead of him. 

You remove your coat and Chan tries not to stare at your Mermaid Barbie costume. He removes his own jacket and your eyes show your amusement before a laugh escapes your lips.

“Looks like I still have a Ken to my Barbie, too,” you joke. 

“You mean Jay didn’t tell you I was coming as Ken?” Chan jokes back. 

“Wait, was he supposed to?” you worry.

“No,” Chan assures you. “I’m not sure he was even listening when we talked about costumes. This was kinda last minute.”

“Well, we should take a picture anyway, we look good together,” you suggest.

“I’m down,” Chan agrees, too quickly. 

Two of you end up, mostly unintentionally, spending a lot of the party together. People that don’t know you keep assuming that you’re there together and your friends think it’s funny, so they keep poking fun. At least it means that everyone stays in a good mood. It’s a little confusing, though, because you don’t correct the people that don’t know you about being there with Chan. At one point, you do ask Chan if he’s actually okay with how close you’ve stuck to him. You make something of a joke about not wanting to keep him from anyone. It’s confusing. It tugs at Chan’s heart as a reminder that even if you’re fighting with him, you do have a boyfriend. Maybe that’s something to consider. But, he shakes it off and insists that he doesn’t mind. Your shoulders fall in relief and you admit that it’s comfortable being around him. You don’t want to talk about the argument, so it helps that Chan knows some of what happens. You like it that he doesn’t ask you too many questions that you know you can’t answer. 

It’s also a little surprising that even at this house party, which is relatively small because the house isn’t huge, you and Chan are the only Barbie and Ken. It seems like everyone thought it would be too common of a costume and tried to think outside of the box. Or some people just were lazy and wanted to save their better costume for the actual night of Halloween. 

“You’re glued to my sister,” Jay observes when Chan excuses himself to get a drink.

“I’m not glued, we just keep ending up together,” Chan disagrees.

“Yeah, seems kinda glued. And you came back in with her after she left to take a call,” Jay says.

“Oh, yeah, I walked up and she was talking to Seungsik. I figured I’d wait for her to come back in,” Chan says. He’s not going to tell your brother that you asked him to wait for you.

“I notice he’s not here,” Jay tries to say casually. 

“He’s not coming,” Chan shares. Jay goes to open his mouth and Chan cuts him off. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why he’s not coming, you’ll have to ask her. But, she seemed kinda pissed off at him on the phone, so maybe let her enjoy tonight and deal with the bullshit tomorrow.” 

“I’m glad she has you,” Jay says.

“Not you too,” Chan starts.

“No, I mean literally. You’ve been a good friend to her with all the bullshit over that asshole,” Jay says, irritation clear in his voice. “Wish she’d just break up with him, but if I say that, I’m being over protective.”

“I dunno, I think she’s probably closer than you realize,” Chan shrugs. 

You come rushing into the kitchen. “Come on, Chan, we have to go crush it at beer pong.” 

“Forgetting her brother again. Good luck, man,” Jay laughs out.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you chide before pulling Chan away with a drink in each of his hands.

He’s more than a little thankful for Jay not calling him on making two drinks. It’s obvious when you show up that the other is for you, yet Jay just lets him be. It makes it easier for Chan to focus on beer pong. You’re at that perfect buzzed point, apparently, where you assure him that you’re going to be at your best. Even though it sounds kind of bullshit, he goes along with it. 

It’s not bullshit, Chan learns two turns into the game. You sink both of your shots without even hitting the rim of the cup. Meanwhile, Chan is just thankful to make one on his second try so you don’t insist you’re carrying the team. You might be, or Chan might be a little distracted by the way you line up your shot. Might be a little distracted by the way you lean up against him. Might be a little distracted every time his arm brushes against your bare skin. Might be a little distracted by the way you celebrate with him every time either of you makes a shot. It’s easy to see why people who don’t know you assume you’re here with him. It’s harder for Chan to remember that’s not true when he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

After you win at beer pong, both of you find your way to a quieter part of the house. The party feels a little stifling and you want some air. Chan agrees, but it’s a little too cold to just sit outside. Instead, you settle for a quiet corner. This time you don’t ask if it’s okay to be stealing all of Chan’s time. Either because you can tell he doesn’t mind. or you’re trusting him to say if he did mind, he’s not sure. 

Now that you’re a little buzzed, not drunk, just feeling a little happier, you’re ready to talk about how things are really going with Seungsik. It’s immediately a lot more honest than Chan is expecting and infinitely more heartbreaking. He’s working crazy hours, claiming that he’s up for some big promotion and has to put in the time. He’s canceling plans on you left and right. He’s making you feel silly for wanting to do all these Fall things. You feel silly for even complaining about it, but Chan interjects to remind you that it’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. It’s hard to only be supportive when you’re admitting that you feel like there’s something you’ve been doing wrong and that’s why he’s doing all of this. Despite Chan insisting it’s definitely not you, he can tell that you don’t fully believe it. 

It’s like you’re in this weird limbo because you’ve been dating him for over six months, which feels long enough that it’s serious. But, you’ve only been dating him for like six months, which you say also feels like you shouldn’t be overbearing. You’ve always wanted partners to have the freedom they need. Always been really adamant about maintaining your own friendships and hobbies outside of your partner. That’s important. You don’t ever want to be one of those people that gets into a relationship and forgets about their friends. Those are the people who’ve been there through all the shit. There’s a part of you that feels like that’s being used against you with Seungsik. Every time you tell him that you miss him or want him to do something, he reminds you that you suggested keeping some hobbies separate from each other. Chan is quick to tell you that there’s a difference. It sounds like he’s using your well-meaning words as an excuse to not see you as much, which is weird. 

Somehow, you both come to a silent agreement that you don’t really want to dwell on your issues with Seungsik, anymore. You’re just happy to have someone that’s willing to let you vent and then let you move on. Sure, Chan shares his opinions and reminds you as often as he can get away with that you do deserve someone who values you. Then, he also lets you get away with moving the conversation on to lighter things. Even though Chan’s known you for over ten years, there’s still so much about you that he doesn’t know. And he’s not sure what’s shifted, but something definitely has. You’re much more open in the way you talk to him lately, much freer with your words. It’s comfortable, kind of like a warm blanket. 

By the time the party is winding down, Chan is essentially sober, having spent so much time just sitting and talking to you. You’re still a bit buzzed, but well on your way to sobering up. Chan planned to leave his car here and pick it up tomorrow (well, later today since it’s the early hours of the morning) and instead he can drive home. He offers to give you a ride as well, which you happily take to avoid paying for a ride. None of the rest of your friends, except for Jay, seem to be around, but he’s very caught up talking to someone. Good for him, Chan thinks.

The car ride back to your apartment is comfortably quiet. Aside from you asking if you could pick the music, you’ve just been softly singing along and looking out the window. It’s nice at this time of night, too. Everything else is quiet, just the traffic of people heading home for the night, whether it’s to their homes or someone else’s. It’s not until he gets to your house that Chan gets a text from Jay that makes him frown. “Everything okay?” you ask, hand on the door to get out of the car.

“Yeah, just Jay hoping I’m not headed home because he brought someone home with him,” Chan says. “I’ll just be quiet when I go in and put my headphones on.”

“Or you could just crash here tonight,” you offer and Chan grips the steering wheel a little harder to steady his nerves. 

“I couldn’t do that,” he says, causing you to turn back to him. 

“Do you really wanna hear whatever my brother is up to?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no, but it’s also not like it would be the first time,” he responds with a chuckle. 

“Come on, weirdo, you can sleep on my couch and I’ll make us breakfast in the morning,” you say, getting out of the car without waiting to see if Chan is following you. 

Of course he is, though. He scrambles to get the keys out of the car and hurry after you. Once you’re inside your apartment, you put a pot on the stove to boil some water. Insist that you need some tea before you can sleep. While the water is boiling, you go to the closet to pull out some blankets. It’s entirely too comfortable, both the couch and the way you move around him. Something he can’t fully ignore when you sit down with a cup of tea for each of you.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Chan asks.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You were nice enough to give me a ride home and it’s my brother that’s sexiling you,” you reason.

“What if Seungsik shows up tomorrow?” he asks.

You take a sip of your tea and then look over at him. “He’s not really the type to show up unannounced. Besides, why would it be weird to offer to let a friend crash?” 

“You’re right,” Chan concedes. 

“Plus, he hasn’t been over for breakfast in weeks and I miss cooking for someone,” you say. 

It’s kind of hard to argue with that, not that Chan wants to. Well, he’d like to argue that it’s bullshit that Seungsik has you feeling whatever you’re feeling. It’s complete crap that he doesn’t appreciate what an amazing person you are. It’s just not healthy. But, at the end of the day, it’s also not Chan’s place, so he just lets it go. 

You get up to wash out the cups when you’re finished with your tea and disappear into your small spare room. It doesn’t have a bed, because you use it as an office area, but apparently it does have clothes that you loan to Chan. The protest is on his lips when you cut him off to say that they’re Jay’s clothes he’s left here when he’s crashed. That’s much better than the clothing belonging to your boyfriend. When he comes back out of the bathroom, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, obviously ready for bed. He clears his throat to be able to say goodnight and pads out to the couch. It’s even more comfortable to sleep on than you said, but Chan’s brain won’t slow down enough to fall asleep. All he can think of is just how…domestic this all feels. How easy it is to be around you. Again. 

Though it takes him a while to drift off, he actually feels like he gets a good night of sleep. The smell of coffee slips into his consciousness while he’s in that in-between state before he’s fully awake. When he opens his eyes, he can tell that you’re trying to be quiet, not wanting to disrupt him. Even though it’s your apartment and you can make as much noise as you’d like. Chan opens both of his eyes and finds your back to him as you look into the fridge. Possibly deciding what you want to make. Your hair is in a knot on top of your head and you’re still wearing that oversized t-shirt and shorts. Everything about you seems relaxed. Until you close the door and turn towards the living room to see him awake. You jump a little and your hand flies to your heart.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize you were awake,” you share after a moment.

“Sorry,” Chan says and throws his hands up. 

“No, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” you wonder and he shakes his head. “I was trying to figure out what’s for breakfast.” 

“You really don’t…” he starts.

“I promised breakfast and you’re getting breakfast,” you interrupt. “Plus, look outside.” 

It’s a confusing request, but Chan gets up off the couch anyway to look out the window. As soon as he moves the curtain aside, he sees how hard it’s raining. He’s a little surprised that he didn’t hear it. And he’s definitely not overly eager to leave in that.

“Guess you have company for breakfast,” he says when he turns back to you. 

Your whole face lights up and you let out a squeak. “I can’t wait, oh my god, I have so many recipes I’ve been wanting to try.” 

“Like?” he prompts. 

“Do you trust me?”  you ask instead.

That’s a dangerous question. One that Chan isn’t sure he really wants to answer, because the answer is that yes, he trusts you far more than he should. Probably more than he’s trusted anyone else. The last month or so of all these activities has only reinforced that. Instead, he pretends to consider it for a second, buys himself some time.

“I guess, you haven’t poisoned me yet,” he says, voice surprisingly even.

“I hate you,” you joke with an eye roll. 

“I’ll remember that,” he teases back. 

To do something helpful, Chan gets up and folds the blankets he used to sleep and asks you where they go. Once they’re safely away in your closet, he texts Jay to say that he’s still at your apartment and having breakfast at least. Jay sends back an inappropriate number of emojis and says he’s going to make use of the extra time alone with whoever it is he brought home. Thankfully, he only makes one joke about being replaced as the favorite sibling, which Chan answers that you’re a better cook. Was it ever really a contest? 

To avoid being entirely useless, Chan makes both of you a cup of coffee. You’re about to tell him how you like it when he asks if you trust him. As he hands over the perfect cup and turns around to make his own, he misses the look on your face that he knows exactly how you like your coffee. It’s a mix of wonder and surprise. When you tell him it’s the perfect cup, you’re not even lying. He also can’t resist peeking to see what it is you’re working on, despite your attempts to swat him out of the kitchen.

“Is that French toast?” Chan asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I know it’s kinda simple, but I had some really good bread that was going a little stale and I’ve been wanting to try a new mixture,” you say.

“French toast is my favorite, I don’t think it’s simple,” Chan admits.

“I think I remember you mentioning that, actually,” you comment. It’s so offhand that Chan doesn’t think twice about it. There’s so many things he remembers about you that he’s thankful something about him sticks too. 

While you continue making breakfast, Chan asks where the syrup is so that he can warm it up a little. He doesn’t like it cold and neither, apparently, do you. You also don’t like fake syrup so you direct him to where you keep it in the fridge. It looks like it’s some small company that you probably got directly from the shop on some adventure. That’s definitely one great part about living in this part of the country, you’re never far from good syrup. It makes the whole apartment smell like maple and the cinnamon from the toast. And something else that Chan can’t really place. But it makes everything feel warm and comforting despite the rain that’s only coming down harder outside now. Maybe Chan doesn’t hate everything about Fall.

Unsurprisingly, it’s the best French toast he’s ever had. Something he’s quick to tell you and you’re quicker to brush off like he’s just being nice. It’s just as easy to chat with you in the light of day in your apartment as the haze of the house party the night before. It’s harder to ignore the way your phone periodically lights up with Seungsik’s name. Harder still to ignore is the fact that it’s just his name. No hearts or emojis or pet names. It’s almost impersonal, not that Chan should be passing judgment.

“Are you going to answer him?” he finally asks.

“No,” is your immediate answer. 

“But…” Chan starts and you level him with a look.

“He doesn’t get to have things on his terms when he couldn’t even come to a fucking Halloween party last night,” you say. 

“Have you talked to him since…” he starts to ask before trailing off.

“Since I was fighting with him on the phone and you walked up?” you finish for him.

“Yeah, that,” he says.

“I read one text from him asking why I was posting matching costumes with you, even though my caption on it was clear and he’s literally all over my page,” you share. “So, I didn’t answer that. I texted him when I woke up to say that I hadn’t read whatever he sent and that I was mad from last night and would maybe talk to him this afternoon or tonight.” 

“He doesn’t seem to have gotten it,” Chan comments as your phone lights up again with his name.

“No, he doesn’t. But that’s also not my problem. Not everything is going to be on his terms,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” Chan admits. 

“About what? Me fighting with Seungsik?” you wonder and Chan’s eyes go wide at the realization.

“No, oh my god, no,” Chan rushes out. “No, I’m just glad that you’re not letting it all be on his terms. You’re worth a lot more than how he’s been treating you.”

“Thanks, I think so too,” you slightly tease. 

Breakfast turns into you asking Chan to watch a show, which turns into him spending the entire afternoon lounging on the couch. You talk a little more about your relationship and what you might say to him when you finally text him back. Chan also tells you some things he’s looking forward to coming up and about some plans he has with your brother and Vernon. Sometimes, you’re just quiet while watching the show, but that’s comfortable too. Eventually, though, Chan realizes that he has to leave. He knows that you’re using at least part of him being there to avoid talking to your boyfriend. Not that it’s the only reason. It’s clear you enjoy having him around, too. But eventually you have to talk to Seungsik and so Chan finally says that he has to head home. Jay is starting to wonder where he is anyway. 

It’s not that Chan really wants to be out and dating, but he also thinks that it might help to get his mind off of you. Even though he loves every minute of being around you, it’s also getting harder. Especially when the time spent together includes things like the Halloween party and crashing at your apartment. He wants to be a good friend to you, but at what cost to his heart? No part of him feels entitled to your attention and he’s not even sure if he would be a better partner to you than Seungsik. It isn’t even about him anymore, not really. Not now that he’s spent all this time with you. It’s just about wanting you to find your own happiness that doesn’t come from a partner. Which is why he agrees to go out for drinks with a friend of a friend, Carla, that asked him weeks ago. What’s the worst that could happen?

He’s meeting her at some trendy bar downtown where the music is usually too loud to hear anything. Not exactly the ideal place for a first date, but maybe that will make it all easier. He does like to dance. And he knows the drinks are good. It’s also always pretty busy, making it easier to blend into the crowd. What’s weirder, though, is that she asks Chan to just meet her there. Again, not Chan’s first choice, but he goes along with it all the same. It’s thankfully very easy to spot her once he gets there.

She’s standing by the bar, her long dark hair framing her face and wearing a dress that clings to her in ways that should be against the law. The moment she locks her eyes on Chan, he thinks maybe he can do this. Maybe it’ll all be easy and fine. They exchange a quick hello, get their drinks, and then it’s right onto the dance floor. 

Time seems to move in odd ways. It could have been ten minutes just as easily as an hour. All Chan knows is that he needs another drink. When he says that to Carla, she agrees and says she’s going to run to the bathroom. They can meet at the bar. Once Chan makes it to the bar, his stomach drops. He looks back out at the dance floor and sees Seungsik with a stranger, that is definitely not you, tight against him. Some bottle blonde presses her ass further back into him and he grabs her hips. As Chan looks at them, Seungsik ghosts his lips across her neck, moves a hand up her stomach. The woman turns around in his arms and pulls him in for a kiss. Seungsik’s hands grip her ass, dangerously close to causing her dress to ride up. It isn’t until Seungsik pulls the woman off the dance floor and into the shadows that Chan realizes just how bad things are. 

Carla seems disappointed when Chan says that something’s come up and he’s got to leave, but perks up when he says that they’ll find another time. He’s not even sure if he should be giving her hope, he just wants to get out of there as soon as possible. Once he��s in the Uber, he texts Jay to ask if he’s home or if he’s got company. The answer that he’s alone in the apartment comes quickly.

“Thought you had a date,” Jay says when Chan comes through the door. “Unless you’re angling for a threesome. I’d have to turn you down though.” 

“Come on, man,” Chan says as he collapses on the couch. He runs a hand through his hair without thinking about it.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Jay asks, he’s coming back from the kitchen with a bottle of water.

“It’s about your sister,” Chan admits. It’s clear that Jay wasn’t expecting that, but his surprise disappears quickly.

“Wow, are you finally admitting you’re in love with her?” Jay jokes. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but also it could’ve waited?” 

“No, it’s not that. Well, I don’t know, it’s about Seungsik,” Chan says.

“So you’re not in love with my sister?” Jay questions.

“Can we not do this right now? This is serious,” Chan begs.

“Fine, we’ll come back to that. What about Seungsik? Other than he’s been a total dick about all the Fall shit,” Jay says as he leans back further into the couch.

“It’s more than that, he’s lying to her,” Chan states.

“What?” Jay needs Chan to connect the dots and it’s a lot harder than it seems.

“He’s, fuck Jay, he’s lying to her. He isn’t working late. At least not all the time. He was at the club with some girl, grinding, making out, dragging her off to some dark corner,” Chan says. 

The color drains from Jay’s face. “Are you…fuck, are you sure it was him?” 

“I’m positive,” Chan says. 

“You’ve got to tell her,” Jay says after a moment.

“I thought it might be better coming from you,” Chan hopes.

Jay frowns like he’s considering something. “I’m not sure it would. I don’t even mean because you saw Seungsik. It’s just that she’s seemed to kind of rely on you lately. It’s you she was with apple picking and picking out pumpkins. You she spent all of that Halloween party with. She trusts you.” 

“Well I’d hope she does, we’re friends,” Chan tries to joke.

“I’m not trying to fuck with you, I know I started by saying you were in love with her, but I just think it’s different,” Jay says.

“So you don’t think I’m in love with her?” Chan wonders.

“Oh, no I definitely do. I’m just not gonna bust you over it right now,” Jay says. 

“I’m scared to tell her,” Chan admits. 

“She deserves to know, though,” Jay points out. 

He’s right. You do deserve to know. You deserve a lot of things that Seungsik seems unwilling to give. At the very least, though, you deserve respect. What Chan needs help with is figuring out just how to bring it up with you. Jay is right, you and him have been spending a lot more time around each other than normal. Chan’s been more than happy to keep you company to do all the things that Seungsik doesn’t want to. What he’s not prepared for, however, is this. 

Even though it sounds dumb, Chan listens to Jay and asks you to come over to help him make a couple pies for a family get-together. He does have to go over to his aunt’s tomorrow, something you’re very aware of as you and Jay are also invited, and you are excellent when it comes to pies. Chan had just been planning to buy a couple, but this is a ready-made excuse. Even if he thinks it’s dumb. He’s a little surprised that you agreed since he only texted you the same day. Then again, maybe that’s not so surprising.

You breeze in with ingredients, including some that he already has, and immediately get to work laying everything out. He realizes, as you’re looking through his cupboards and scolding him over the lack of organization, how domestic this all feels. Again. It’s not as if he didn’t realize how much he liked you. No, it’s that he realizes he may love you and he’s going to have to tell you something that will break your heart. Best to get it out of the way early before you start baking. Just in case you want to leave.

“Where’s my brother? Avoiding helping in the kitchen?” you wonder. 

“No, he went to help Vernon test out a new game,” Chan says.

“You didn’t wanna go?” you ask.

“I kinda figured I needed to make sure I didn’t show up empty-handed tomorrow,” Chan starts. “I was surprised you agreed to come over on such short notice.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t have anything else to do and I can’t exactly leave you in your time of need,” you say, trying for casual and failing. 

“Wow, I feel the love,” Chan jokes back.

“Chan, you were going to use fake vanilla in your pies,” you scoff. 

It’s hard to keep the smile off his face, despite the news he has to share, as he throws his hands up. “I didn’t know there was a difference!”

“Tragic,” you sigh. “Plus, well, I don’t know. I like hanging out with you.” 

“I like it too,” Chan says. It comes out as little more than a whisper and his heart constricts.

“You’ve made this whole season so much better,” you admit. 

“Yeah, I could say the same for you. I didn’t really get the big deal about Fall before,” Chan shares.

“You didn’t?” you ask. Chan just shakes his head. “But you agreed.”

“Like you said, I couldn’t leave you in your time of need,” Chan jokes.

You playfully shove his arm. “Do you get it now? The appeal of Fall?” 

“I do, yeah. I’ve had a lot of fun,” Chan agrees.

“Wish Seungsik felt the same,” you utter. 

That’s it. That’s the opening, the best one he’s going to get. He has to take a deep breath to steel himself. “Where is he today anyway?”

“Seungsik?” you ask to confirm or to stall, it’s unclear which. After another nod, you sigh. “I don’t really know. He told me he had to stay late on a project and then was going to possibly get drinks with a friend at this little dive bar by his office. I hadn’t heard from him when you texted me to ask for help.”

“Did he say who he was meeting?” Chan presses.

You give him a weird look. “I don’t know. Sejun, probably. I don’t know all of his friends, though. Why are you asking?”

“Come here,” Chan says and pats a stool at the counter. It’s clear you think he’s being weird, or at least weirder than normal, but you listen anyway. “I don’t think he was with a friend. At least, I don’t think he was with Sejun.”

“What do you know?” you ask, eyes intent on searching his face.

“I, well I was out at that place you don’t like because it’s too, what do you usually say?” 

“Try hard trendy,” you supply with a scoff. 

“Right, well I was out and I saw Seungsik there. I didn’t recognize who he was with, but it didn’t seem like a friend. She was blonde and wearing something really revealing, grinding up on him, kissing him. I don’t know, maybe there’s…” Chan hasn’t thought this part out, not really. He feels awkward. 

“Maybe there’s an explanation?” you snort. “I’m sure there is. I’m sure it’s that he’s cheating on me like I’ve assumed he was for the past month.”

“I’m so sorry…wait, you what?” Chan splutters.

Of all the outcomes he prepared for, your immediate acceptance hadn’t been one of them. He’s expecting tears and you asking if he’s sure. He’s expecting you to wonder if you did something wrong. He’s expecting all the tearful things you see in movies. Except this isn’t a movie, it’s real life. And you don’t seem surprised, at all. Somehow, that feels worse. Then, he remembers how you were at the Halloween party. How you were the day after. Maybe it makes some amount of sense. It wasn’t the same as before you went apple picking. It wasn’t meek, it was angry. Pissed off. This is more like that.

You stand and shake your head. “I’m not blind and I’m not stupid.” 

“I never said you were,” Chan interrupts immediately.

“Oh, no Channie, I know you didn’t,” you say, voice soft like he’s the one that needs to be protected. “I think I’m saying that to myself. I knew something was wrong. I knew he was up to something. He’s never been the best boyfriend, but he got really secretive. He blew me off a lot and just pretended it was because he hated this season.”

“Which is bullshit, by the way. It shouldn’t matter how you feel about something. You at least try for someone you care about,” Chan insists.

“Yeah, he was quick to have something to say about me spending time with you,” you admit. That brings Chan up short.

“What? We did most of the stuff as a group,” Chan points out. 

“I wouldn’t think too much about it. It felt wrong when he said it. Like he was deflecting from his shitty behavior rather than commenting on something I’d done,” you say.

“I’m really so sorry, you deserve so much better than everything he’s done to you,” Chan says. 

“You know, that’s the first time you’ve actually said it to me, at least in so many words,” you observe.

“Said what? That you deserve better?” Chan questions. Your face is a bit sad as you nod. “It sounds hollow to say, at best, or judgmental, at worst.”

“I could tell you thought it, though, even if you didn’t say it,” you share. “You said at the Halloween party that I deserved someone who valued me, but you didn’t actually say I deserved better.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” Chan says with a sigh.

“Don’t be, I wasn’t ready to hear it,” you assure him. “Besides, you’re one of the only people who shouldn’t be sorry to me. About anything.”

“Do you want to talk about it? About Seungsik and the relationship and what you’re going to do next?” Chan asks. 

You look at him for a minute. “On two conditions.”

“Which are?” 

“That you let me help you make pies if you do actually need them,” you begin. 

“I do,” Chan interrupts.

“And you have to promise not to pull any punches when it comes to your opinions. I want flat out honesty or I don’t want anything.”

“Deal.” 

It turns out that it’s still surprisingly easy to be around you. Obviously you’re sad. You’re hurt. There’s part of you that wonders what you’ve done wrong. But, there’s this vibrancy about you that’s been missing the last several months. The laughs come easier, the brightness in your eyes says you’re up to something, and you’re picking on Chan’s complete inability to make a pie at every chance you get.

In between making the pies, Chan is honest, just like he promised. Maybe a little too honest. He’s got a lot of opinions about the things Seungsik did, or usually didn’t do, and how nobody deserves to feel like the things they love are less important. When you share more about your relationship, Chan finds himself more irritated. It’s clear that you were dulling yourself down so that he didn’t find it annoying. Apparently, your laugh was too loud and you got excited about too many little things. You were too nice with new people and that was annoying because sometimes Seungsik didn’t want to be sucked into a conversation. Before he could stop himself, Chan was listing why those were some of the best things about you. He loves how everything about you brightens up when you’re passionate, loves that you can make anyone feel at home, loves how much you love life. 

Once you both get past bashing Seungsik, an activity that’s entirely too fun, you ask for Chan’s advice about how to break things off. He’s a little surprised that you seem so sure and that you don’t want to give him a chance to work through it. That’s when you remind him that things felt off, anyway. Remind him about the Halloween party. You’ve given Seungsik plenty of chances to not disappoint you. He’s missed all of them. And when you’re done, you’re done. In that case, Chan suggests that you catch Seungsik by surprise. Show up at his apartment without telling him and maybe he’ll even give you more reason to break it off. It’s blunt and honest and you thank him before he has a chance to second guess that level of honesty. 

“Chan, will you get the door?” his aunt calls from the kitchen after the bell chimes through the house. 

It takes a second to excuse himself from the conversation with his cousin and make his way towards the door. There’s no thought about who might be on the other side because he knows that his aunt always invites way more people than she should. She just loves to be surrounded by good people and good food. What Chan isn’t expecting, though he probably should be, is seeing you on the other side of the door with a bottle of wine and a bag of ice.

“Hey,” you say casually and hand the bag of ice over to Chan.

“Uh, hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” Chan says, “or a bag of ice?”

“Everyone always needs more ice at a party,” you provide with a shrug. “So, uh, are we gonna stand at the doorway or…”

“Is that who I think it is?” Chan’s aunt calls as she comes down the hallway. “Oh my god, it is. It’s my favorite almost niece!”

Chan steps aside so that his aunt can engulf you in a hug. It’s actually kind of sweet to see such a warm greeting. 

“I hope it’s okay, I didn’t think to let you know I’d be here,” you say.

“It’s always okay,” she says. “I’ll take any excuse to see you.”

“Actually, could I give you this ice? I wanted to have a quick chat with her about something before we eat,” Chan says to his aunt.

“Sure, I’ll take the wine too. You remembered my favorite, I see,” she says affectionately before disappearing back into the house.

“I suppose I don’t have to ask what this is about,” you joke.

“Come on, we’ll go this way,” Chan says without answering. 

The house isn’t nearly as familiar to you as it is to Chan, but you’ve been here enough to recognize that he leads you into a guest room. There are a couple chairs that save you from having to sit on the bed. That feels like it would be a little too intimate. All Chan wants to do is check that you’re okay. 

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Chan states.

“This time of year is about being with the people you care about,” you answer. “Plus, your aunt makes amazing food and I helped you with the pies. It felt like I should be here.” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever been here without Jay,” Chan says. 

It feels different to be alone with you like this. Going out on adventures, alone or in groups where you ended up together, was one thing. Different, yet easy to fall into. Crashing at your apartment after the Halloween party was entirely different from that, even if it ended up being easy. Having you at his apartment yesterday was surprisingly easy. But this, showing up at his aunt’s house without Jay and newly single, it feels weird. Not weird in a bad way, just weird. There’s almost an intimacy to it, like a glimpse into how things might have looked if everything was different. How it would be if you and him were together and spending time with his family. Yet, he also finds that’s not something he really wishes for anymore. It isn’t that he doesn’t still care about you, because that probably won’t ever change. It’s just that he cares more about helping you with your broken heart.

“Should I not have come?” you ask and Chan hates the way you seem smaller again.

“Of course you should’ve,” Chan rushes out. “I’m really happy you’re here. I’ve been wondering how you were since you left my apartment yesterday.” 

Once again, it’s too honest. It’s too vulnerable. Maybe it’s even too much of a burden to possibly admit that to you, but Chan also knows he needs to so he really can move past this. 

“You said the girl you saw him with on Friday night was blonde, right?” you ask and Chan nods. “I’m guessing it was the same girl that answered the door in his t-shirt.”

“What?” Chan nearly shouts.

“I didn’t even have to tell him that you saw him, which is probably a good thing. He can’t try to turn it around that you made it up,” you say. 

“I…is that a thing that he’d do?” Chan wonders because it’s easier to focus on.

You snort. “Yeah, he was convinced you were in love with me or something. Just another way he was deflecting from himself. Like men and women can’t be friends.” 

It’s hard to ignore the way his heart breaks a little at that. Yet the bigger issue is that you’re right, thinking men and women can’t be friends is insane. 

“You’ve been such a good friend to me,” you continue on. “I’m so thankful for that. I didn’t realize how much I needed to see an example of a guy just being kind and caring until you were right there.” 

“It’s pretty easy to be that to you,” Chan says because it’s honest and it’s real. 

“I broke up with Seungsik on the spot, obviously. He didn’t even try to deny it. Actually had the audacity to try and make it my fault. I guess she knew I existed too and didn’t care. Maybe I wouldn’t either if I was getting all his time like that,” you say, more like you’re talking to yourself.

“Yeah you would’ve, you’re too good a person for that,” Chan points out. 

“Maybe,” you concede. 

“I know it’s a cliche, but you really do deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone that’ll wake up every day and appreciate everything you bring to the table because it’s so much,” Chan says. 

“You have to say that, you’re my friend,” you deflect. 

“Oh no, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I don’t even really like you that much. I just stick around because of Jay,” Chan jokes and you laugh, bright and real. 

“Glad you finally admitted it,” you say. “Maybe you can tell that person, whoever they are, to hurry up and come find me.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Chan tells you. “I am glad you’re here, though.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

last part dropping 12/8 💕 let me know if you want to be tagged!

[loving-and-dreaming]

like our father j.p

like our father j.p

James Potter x reader

A look at your relationship with James through the eyes of your daughter.

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n please be kind☺️ I’m trying to get better ❤️

James and you were sitting on the couch talking about how great your days have been. He worked and finished a big project with Sirius, and you got everything done off your checklist and aced your meeting. All of the happy talk stopped when the front door slammed open. In comes your little angel Noelle, and her bigger sister Maydalyin. In an instant Noelle stomps up the stairs and slams her door. James looks to you then you both look to May, hoping she has some answers as to why your little angel is clearly upset. “May, love, can you tell your mom and I what has made Noelle so clearly upset?” James asks in his normal soft and caring tone.

“Well at school today, she asked some boy to be her valentine with a note she worked really hard on. She even asked her teacher to teach her cursive to write his name. He said no and ripped up the valentine infront of her and threw it on the ground. It didn’t help that it was in front of everyone at recess. He also went back to his friends and they all started to laugh at her...” May sits down next to you and curls up into you, she may not be your little angel anymore but she will always be your angel, and explains with a sad look on her face. Your heart breaks for your little girl and clearly James' heart because he goes to get up. But May sat up straight, “dad could I try talking to her first. I think I know why all this happened and I think I know what to say.”

“Of course, bug. What makes you think you know why it happened?” You asked her in a soft voice as well, unsure of what she is going to say.

May sighed because she feels like her sister is her responsibility and feels like she failed her “Well she saw the valentine Jake got me, and asked me what it was. So I told her when you like someone on Valentine’s Day you give them a card and sometimes small gifts. She asked how you know what to do, and I just told her that you think of the person and what they like and that’s how you know. I didn’t think she was going to try it! She just seemed curious.” Knowing how serious May takes her older sister's responsibilities, you both decide to let her try to see if they can work through it without your help. Much like all older siblings, May likes to think everything is her fault, James and you make sure to tell her that’s not the case, but it’s something she enjoys doing. Her and Noelle are best friends even though they are 8 years apart.

May slowly walks up the steps, debating the two ways to go about this. Explaining how boys are gross and she needs to wait or explaining how to look for the right kind of boy. She really doesnt think the first one will be beneficial. So it looks like she is going to go with how to find the right guy(praying she doesn’t go looking anytime soon ). May takes a deep breath before knocking on Noelles door. Peaking in before she fully walks in, she hears no signs of disagreement and takes this as a good sign. Of course the first thing she notices is Noelle on the bed and gives her a small smile, she only gets a small hmmmm in reply. Looking around the room is a blast from the past everytime she comes in here. She and her sister are so close that a lot of Mays old stuff is now Noelles, not because they live off hand me downs but because that's what noelle wants. And in this house her parents make sure they know the value of something, not by how much it costs but by how much it means to you. Her barbie posters on the wall, her small vanity set where mom taught her learned how to do her hair for the daddy daughter dance at school, her old bed that she marked M+K for May plus ken from barbie, her old pink bedspread that the dog ripped but dad learned to sew to patch it back up because she didn't want to live without it. This room holds so much history, but also so many new things. The most important thing is her baby sister sniffling on her bed right now.

Out of nowhere Noelle cries “I just wanted a boyfriend like you! Jake is so good to you, he even takes care of me too and gets mom and dad presents all the time! I want that too!”

Once again taking a breath and sitting down next to her sister, “Woah noelle, when I was your age, I didn't have a boyfriend. But I also know how frustrating that statement is. So instead of just saying that, how about I tell you how I found the right one?” With a nod from her sister she begins to tell a story…

You just picked up May from school and were on your way home. James should still be at work when you both get home, so in the car you and her are making plans to surprise him. “Momma can we cook him smiley face pancakes, like you and daddy make on my birthday?”

“Sure bug, should we do it with chocolate chips or with blueberries?”

“CHOCOLATE CHIPS MOMMA, DUHHHH!”

“Okay chocolate chips, anything else?”

“Can I draw him a picture when the pancakes are cooking?”

“Of course you can, bug.” by now you both were pulling into the driveway to see James car already there. However this is not too unusual because at lunch, he and his best friend Sirius (who happens to be Mays Godfather along with his husband, Remus) come home and eat at the house. Then they carpool back together in Sirius’ car. After work he rides home with Sirius as well, because to get to his house, Sirius can drive the back way by your house. Therefore in both your head and Mays nothing was wrong. But when you walked in all that changed.

The smell of spaghetti(the family's favorite meal), the sound of music, and the sight of the clean laundry all put away and not on the couch where you left it shocked you. May took off to the kitchen screaming for James while you rebooted for a moment. Taking in the smell of dinner already cooking, the chores you knew you had waiting back at home already done, and most importantly your husband and daughter home and happy propel you forward. Walking past all the clean clothes, you take a look at the picture on the wall. It is your wedding day, little things like this remind you that on that day, even though you both were so young, you made the right choice. Being with James has never been a hassle, yes you fight but in the end he is your other half. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you finish walking into the kitchen when May yells out for you to hurry. When you walk in the next scene almost brings you to tears, there in the middle of the kitchen is James holding May and May is holding a bouquet of red roses. She wriggles and turns clearly wanting down so James sets her down, and she runs to you as fast as her little legs can carry her. Squatting down to reach her level you engulf her in your arms and whisper to her that you might have to surprise daddy another day. She ignores your comment and proceeds to shove the roses in your face telling you they are from daddy, once you have them she takes back off to James. Just then you see her holding a smaller bouquet of pink roses and smile at James. Slowly walking over to James and your daughter you hug them both and say with a hushed tone “Thank you my love. I love you-”

“I love you too daddy!”

“Yes sorry May and I love you James. This is a wonderful way to come home. Thank you so much my love. This is exactly what I needed today. Thank you for dinner and for finishing the laundry and for the flowers! They are wonderful and we love them, right bug?” May nods really fast and tries to get into your arms wanting to smell both bouquets at the same time.  

“Well I know you woke up upset and still had all the chores to do when you were done with errands and picking May up from preschool so I wanted to remind you how much I love you and appreciate all you do around the house and for us on a daily basis. So you deserved to be spoiled and of course I couldn't forget my bug,” he leans in and kisses her face all over making her giggle. “I'm glad you like the roses and upstairs there is the stuff for a small spa time and I will finish dinner. I love you both and go have fun.” He leans in to kiss you and kisses your daughter's head one more time. Then he pushes you towards the stairs with one more I love you.

“Okay so dad got mom flowers, big deal.”

“You are missing the point Noelle. I knew what guy was the right guy by seeing how dad treats mom. Think about it, dad still surprises mom with flowers and spa days for us girls, and they have been married over 10 years and have two kids. He loves her and always surprises her with flowers and other things. What about the notes! I remember the first time I saw the note to her, I mean we always get notes in our lunch, but did you know they write notes to each other as well? Thinking back it was totally not appropriate but, like most things, it went right over my head,\.”

“No… what kinda notes?”

“All different kinds, some on post its around the house, others on the mirror after a shower or bath. One day…”

Making May and Noelles lunch is something you weirdly like doing. Knowing how similar but different your daughters are. However you never do it alone. James is always in there making breakfast while you make their lunches, both girls still asleep. Finishing up with the food, you move on to your favorite part. It is something silly you and James started doing when you were just dating. Leaving little notes in each other's lunches or frankly all over the place. Your personal favorite is the notes in the lunches. You always surprise him with a new note. In the middle of writing the last note James pulls you flush against him. Catching on to what he is wanting you start to sway in his arms.

In a soft voice you remind James that if he ignores the eggs they will burn and you all will be late to school and him late to work. “Eh, the girls won't care about a little black in their eggs, and the bacon will be a little crispy. Let me have a moment just the two of us.” Your kitchen is not huge by any means, but big enough to do a few circles in. Dancing is a huge thing in your house. It most likely stems from the fact that dancing is something James and you did all the time before the girls. Now that you have the girls dancing is still a huge part of your lives. Whether it's dancing in a circle, or dancing close with just one or both of the girls. For the record both of you love your daughters with your entire being, but you never really got to be a married couple before children. So these little moments where it is just the two of you are rare treasures. Just dancing close to each other without music, sometimes with music. Typically it will be early in the morning or late at night when you get these moments. Your house always has dancing(like we said it's a big thing in the Potter house), giggling, and sometimes music. Today however it was the quiet before the storm. No music. No girls. No crazy giggles. Just soft smilies and loving eyes. Closing your eyes and just feeling the moment with James, you know it will end soon so both of you just soak up as much of it as possible. The alarm goes off letting you know it was time to wake up the girls. With a groan you leave the comfort of your husband's arms to go wake up the monsters you call children. Walking back down the stairs you see breakfast is all done and James finished packing the girls lunches. Rushing over you want just one more moment in the comfort of James’s arms, giving him a kiss you quickly part when you hear the sound of little feet running down the stairs. With a look to James you both prepare for your calm morning to turn hectic.

Time skip to the end of the day

Getting home with both girls, one from school and the other from daycare, is in one word: crazy. May grabs her stuff, with your help, in the meantime you balance a baby on your hip while carrying in her stuff and Mays stuff she couldn't grab. May runs up ahead of you and makes her way up the steps. Not even a moment later she is hollering for you, you tell her to have patience and you are coming. When you arrive you notice a note taped on the door. May is already rambing and telling you all the possibilities of what it could be. She tries to jump up to grab it, but it is a bit too high,, so you pull it off to read, “I will always be by your side. Or under you, or on top of you, or behind you on my knees for you”, you go bright red at the note, of course you know who it's from and you understand the note, but you have a child jumping up and down wanting to know what it says. Before you could stop her, May quickly grabs the note out of excitement. You are not too worried, seeing as she can read but those innuendos are going to go over her head. In her mind her daddy just wrote a nice note to mommy and now she knows what she will be doing until dinner time. She is already listing off everyone she is going to write notes to: you, James, Noelle, her friend, her teacher, her babysitter, her two godfathers uncle siri and uncle us(this is what the girls still call remus because May couldn't say Remus so she settled for us and it just kinda stuck). Once you open the door she is off to go write all her notes.

“So you see Noelle, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how good dad is to mom.”

“You mean how he is always telling her that she's like wine, getting better with age? Or how he tells her every morning how hot she is. Which by the way is kinda weird…”

“Exactly! And you will get used to it, it is a daily occurrence. But also don't you see how he always kisses her on the forehead whenever one of them leaves a room. Their love started with friendship and that is how it lasted so long. I remember Uncle Us and Siri telling us all the funny stories from before they were even together!”

Noelle sits up feeling a bit better and mentions “Oh wait or how every Friday is date night, sometimes with us but sometimes on their own! And how on game nights he always lets her win, you think they'd let their children win, but nooooo it's always mom winning.”

“See you get it now. There is one more story I have to share with you and you should remember it because it was only two years ago!” Before May finishes her statement Noelle Leans up against her and they cuddle while May tells the story of their last road trip.

Planning a road trip when you have two daughters and pets is a hard skill. But James is such a big help. He got Sirius and Remus to watch the dogs and house while you both picked the different camp sites you wanted to stay at and all the attractions you wanted to see in the area. Now all that is left is packing. Which is where you shine and honestly take over, the one time he was in charge of packing he forgot all of the medicine and you had to turn back around. This is the first road trip since they were little little, and you hate to admit it but you are struggling a bit. Of course your lovely husband knows this and makes fun of you the entire time. He comes into the living room where you have everything set out and says with laughter in his voice “ you made fun of me when I forgot the medicine but how do we plan to eat if you leave all of the cooking supplies here! And not to mention the clothes, y/n we need more than two pairs of underwear for a ten day camping trip.”

“Oh hush James, I was on it. At least I didn’t forget the medicine that you know keeps us alive,” you throw one of the pairs of underwear at him and stick your tongue out at him. Being the goofball that he is, he sees an opportunity and takes it, he surges forward and bites your tongue then moves to kiss you. What neither of you realized is that the girls were standing on the stairs watching the whole thing.

Eventually everything was packed and everyone was safely in the RV. James is driving, you are sitting upfront with him trying to find some good tunes to listen to when driving while the girls chill in the back playing a board game. You find what you wanted and land on Billy Joel, both of your favorites and start belting out the lyrics together. The girls are horrified and call you both oldies and to play some real music. To which James and you both flipped them off and told them this is real music! The rest of the drive was filled with lots of singing and giggles.

Once you all arrive at the first campsite, everyone's a little tired. James pulls in and before anyone else can move he hops out to open your door and the girls door and bows like the weirdo he is. He helps all of you down while kissing all of your hands. You would think he would be upset being the only boy, but this man takes it in stride and treats all of you like royalty. He gives the girls the job to find some good firewood while the two of you set up for dinner. The first night dinner is going to be the classic hotdogs on a stick with marshmallows as dessert. After the good food and last laughs the girls call it a night and go to their bunk. James and you stay out cleaning up and just enjoying each other's company. Of course in the beautiful simplistic atmosphere of the campsite you have to do what you do best. Dance together with no music. Again this is not the dancing and laughter filled dance parties you have with the girls. No, this is simple and soft. He is swaying you two to the wind and humming softly in your ear. This quiet yet loving moment reminds you of prom and how you danced at prom together before you even were together together. Again you have some stinkers for children that like to get out of bed and spy on mom and dad. May and Noelle are watching you and James from the window by their bunk. Both of them wish for a relationship just like their parents.

“So here is the thing, Noelle. It took me forever to find Jake. But now that I have he treats me just like a queen and royalty. Not because I told him to but because I saw how dad treats mom and I found a guy that treats me the same way.”

James and you turned the tables on the girls and are now spying on them. Listening to May lay out your life like that has you leaning into James’s side and kiss his chest. You love your family. You love your husband. You love not only how treats you but how he treats your kids. He is your love and your heart is breaking for your baby girl, but you have a good feeling about the talk May and her just had. You are so lucky to have an amazing husband and even better children.

[spicyclover]

She’s everything. He’s just Ken

Summary: You eat cereal when he announces he wants to break up.

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Inspire by Dakota Johnson and Armie Hammer. (I don’t remember the name of the series/film where this scene is from. So if you know, comment in the section below. Thank you!)

I wrote another story for this request because the first one was too sad. 

There has been a lot of up and down in your relationship with George. You can’t remember the last time you had a meal together without being mad at each other and having make-up sex afterward. 

You’re not unhappy with him. Actually, you love him dearly. But he’s always been complicated and unsure of everything. One day he would be the perfect gentleman, giving you flowers, kissing you every time he can, saying to you how much he loves you. But some days, it’s like he doesn’t know. 

His mother always refers to you as Barbie, not in the wrong way, like superficial or anything. Just because everywhere you go, you grab attention. Everyone turns at you. Giving you free stuff. Telling you how beautiful you are. She never quite understands why your choice has been on George. To be honest, you can’t explain it either. So eventually, everyone started to joke around, saying that George is just Ken and you’re everything. He hates it, and something that is what the fight is all about.

Last night was a lousy fight for both of you. Yelling at each other all night and him deciding to sleep on the couch. You didn’t sleep. You lay in your bed, waiting for the hours to pass, listening to his sights behind the door. You made a list in your head of everything that happened, all bad and good. 

You finally roll out of bed when your alarm goes off. You rub your tired eyes, and you drag yourself to the kitchen to have your breakfast. Pouring cereal into a bowl, you look over at him. He’s gazing at you to make so much noise, but you don’t care.

“I think we should break up. I don’t believe this is working.” He says, sitting in front of you. 

“Okay.” You say, unbothered. 

“That’s all you got? Okay?” He repeats. 

“What would you expect that we cuddle?”

“Fuck you!” 

You smirk, looking up and down at him. He takes his stuff and slams the door. You expected him to come back, but he didn’t. This surprises you initially, but you no longer have time for him. 

A few weeks passed, and you kept working at the organization for the Grand Prix in Silverstone. Freshly single, you met a guy a few times, but nothing serious. I mean, that’s what you thought. Only after a few weeks he finally kissed you.

You didn’t expect this action so soon but didn’t back down. Yet, the following day, you made it clear to him that it was only one evening. You left, leaving him stunned.

You smirk and get back to your hotel room. You get to the track for the race a few hours later, and you don’t tell George you will be there. So you walk in like you own the place and go straight into his garage. The few team members you pass on your way politely greet you, unaware of your breakup.

You see him talking to his engineers. You smile politely at the person who recognizes you and leaves the Mercedes garage to go to the Red Bull garage. You can feel George’s eyes on you when he sees you kissing his worst enemy on the track.

His hands rest on your hips, visibly surprised by this situation change. After all, a few hours ago, you made him understand that you wanted nothing more, and now you’re kissing him in front of everyone.

“I didn’t change my mind.” You say, getting away. “I’m just playing a long game.” You smirk and get out of the way. 

Leaving the garage to find your place at the paddock club. 

Let's just say this race has been brutal. 

George wins, and your lover DNF.

The first thing George did? 

Grabbing your face to kiss you, unable to let you go. 

“You’re right. I’m just Ken.”

[lixzey]

the start of everything

note: starts in 2016, where they are both 14.

1: young half bloods 

2: newbie

3: luke castellan learns a valuable lesson (he gets distracted, most of the time)

4: Annabeth attends a fashion show (and realizes it isn’t for her)

5: capture the flag (and her attention, if possible)

6: strawberry fields, wildflowers, and annoying boys

7: prank wars and unsuspecting victims

8: punishments and prayers

9: luke, the big stupid idiot

10: Oh, I don't know why she's just my type

11: Stay away from me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even breathe the same air as me.

12: I can't believe that I have to put up with your annoying face all year.

13: snowball fight, cabin ten versus cabin eleven

14: the more you hate, the more you love

15: capture the flag: luke led us to victory!

16: smores and chores

17: cheeseburgers and barbies

18: to charm the charmer

19: luke tries forging, gardening, and poetry (failing miserably)

20: pleas, bargains, and bets

21: She doesn’t like surprises. Do you really want another black eye?

becoming friends and more

22: a letter from dear old daddy

23: daddy issues ft mommy issues

24: hide and seek with the harpies

25: your house is haunted

26: somehow, he knew

27: nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter

28: christmas getaways, new york city, and secret glances

29: new years, new beginnings

30: back to camp

31:  sparring, smiles, and sweet talks

32: a field trip to olympus and look alikes

33: my girl

34: moonlight rendezvous

35: steal my girl

36: a picnic and eavesdropping siblings

37: grouchy 

38: she is beauty, she is grace, and she will punch you in the face

39: Maya starts junior year

40: you?

41: popcorn, movies, and slushies 

42: I’m a feminist, obviously. But, I wouldn’t really mind him savin’ me and I know that I’m fine without a man but I think I would like his protection.

43: sweet sixteen

44: with you I'd dance in a storm, in my best dress, fearless

45: hot cocoa, longing glances, and mistletoes

46: wanna bet?

47: school is boring, wanna go somewhere?

48: camp

49: rumor has it

50: the best swordsman at camp and a furious maya williams

51: i’ve never heard silence quite this loud

52: capture the flag: a great way to destress - cabin five, probably

53: thin white lies

54: that brainless idiot

55: jealousy, jealousy

56: patience wearing thin

57: oblivious idiots and chris gets twenty drachmas richer 

58: confrontation drama 

59: You are in love!

60: stupid cupid, stop picking on me!

61: everyone wants him, that was my crime

62: I'm so in love with you and I hope you know

63: give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around

64: interventions, stubborn idiots, and annoying siblings

65: somebody to you

66: don’t take it personal, but personally you’d be better with somebody like me

67: i think it’s time i lay my heart out on the line

established relationship: 

68: i once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden

69: in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

70: you with the dark curls, you with the watercolor eyes

71: take a look at my girlfriend, she’s the only one i got 

72: to be young and in love in new york city

73: fight so dirty, but you love so sweet.

74: Luke, the lovesick idiot

75: your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me

76: promises sealed with a kiss under the velvet sky

77: golden apples and worries

78: pain of words

79: quest blues

80: iris messages and nightmares

81: stupid quest, stupid apples, stupid dragon

82: birthday blues and special surprises

83: i fell in love with a careless man’s careful daughter

84: darkness inside 

85: christmas traditions

86: i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck

87: devil in disguise

88: all of the city lights never shine as bright as your eyes

89: i love the way you’re screaming my name

90: valentines day

91: some days, you're the best thing in my life. sometimes when I look at you, i see my wife

92: love languages

93: demigod pick up service

94: across my memory

95: monsters

96: four walls and a roof

97: closets and radios

98: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cookies, and kool aid

99: pent up anger

100: dance around the living room, lose me in the sight of you

101: on with the quest

102: Drew

103: all i did is try my best, this the kind of thanks i get? 

104: only an angel, never a god

105: and in the middle of my chaos, there was you

106: touch her and i’ll break your neck

107: if anybody hurts you, i’m going to prison for life

108: legal age, baby!

109: I can't keep my hands to myself. I mean I could, but why would I want to?

110: prom dances and birthday cakes

111: I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

112: big blue house 

113: great to be back

114: peace and quiet

115: orders from the pit

116: makeshift prom

117: Can I have this dance?

118:  handsome, you’re a mansion with a view

119: cockblockers—nope, I mean kids.

120: amorous activities in the armory

121: suspiciously quiet

122: Happy birthday! You can finally get arrested!

123: the winter solstice

124: meddling cocky son of a bitch

125: don’t be suspicious. 

126: nightmares

127: if you’re tired, you can lay your head on my lap

128: lazy day, cuddles, and kisses

129: she looks so perfect

130: until we’re gray and old

131:  just normal days

132: A prophecy

taglist:

@mischiefmoons @lilmaymayy @iliketopgun @pleasingregulus

[gay-dorito-dust]

A very, very long overdue Part 2 of this fic

This chapter is primary within Ken’s perspective so don’t expect much plot development.

Taglist: @jokersgrf @momos-peaches @redbatty-koolaidman

It took a lot out of Ken to come to terms that his plastic heart had been singing a different name, the name of his best friend, whilst he was in complete disregard of it’s beautiful symphony and heartfelt lyrics of how stuck on you he secretly was; to the point where even as he was with stereotypical Barbie, the supposed girl of his dreams, his heart would sing just that little bit louder so that it would be significantly hard for him to hear her sweet words over the sound of the birdsong of his secretly yearning heart.

Ken had been conditioned into believing that Barbie is who he was made for, and that if he felt anything for anyone else other then her was considered a defect. Yet now with his head finally clear of the fog, the blonde beach boy was left with a singular question that had kept him from ever daring to push the boundaries of your relationship;

Did you like, like him like that? Or is your relationship strictly platonic and will never be borderline anything else?

After all Ken didn’t want his failed attempts with Barbie to be repeated with you because being rejected by Barbie was something he was more then willing to accept, but to be rejected by you? The one person who has always been there by his side, recognising him as a person and not an accessory, always inviting him over to stay at your house, encouraging him with your warm words that comforted him on those dark days where he didn’t think he was Kenough; That was something else entirely that he doesn’t think his plastic heart could handle. To not have you be in his life was blasphemous and he wasn’t willing to be the reason you left, especially not after having been glued to your side for as long as he could remember, that you’ve became a pivotal part of him that he doesn’t know what he’d do without.

You were his heart, his spirit and there was no one in BarbieLand who knew him better then you did. Which is why he was so hesitant to cross that line of friend to boyfriend, despite how sweet sounding and tempting being your boyfriend would be, because if you ever catch on that he was up to something, what was Ken meant to say in response? That he finally realised that the person he wanted this whole time was standing right in front of him? That you’ve been tormenting his mind ever since he decided to listen to his heart -which was you by the way- just incase he failed to mention it.

What. Was. Ken. Meant. To. Do.

If only you were here to help guide his mind, to guide him down the path he should take but he knew that you’d tell him that he’s the maker of his own sorry and shouldn’t have to wait for someone to tell him what to do, and how he should trust himself more in decision making because despite how well you could read him, he was the only one with the power to make those big decisions in life, he’s the one who should willingly take the plunge rather then wait for someone to push him off the ledge because life is all about making mistakes and learning from them whilst also being willing to take the first step into big ventures.

Gosh you were so smart, brilliant, amazing, talented, awesome and just overall so…you. Ken could just hope that he was Kenough for you…and he hopes that what he had in mind would defiantly win you over.