#i do this all at home bc the kitchen is nicer and i can usually get my parents to pay for my groceries

[sincerelymarner]

being home means that i make food in bulk to freeze to bring back to uni

[sunshinereddie]

i love the idea of eddie moving into richie’s place after ch2 and eddie’s divorce and being all domestic together, you know cooking dinner together and falling asleep on the couch together and pretending they’re not in love with each other and all that, BUT i also love to imagine that period of time when they first move in together and they’re still getting used to each other’s quirks and habits and learning how to live together in the same space

imagine eddie’s reaction to richie’s bachelor apartment that he does not clean enough. richie has to remind himself that all of eddie’s bitching about not letting the dirty dishes stack up in the sink and putting dirty clothes in the hamper instead of on the floor comes from a good place. richie has to admit that his place IS nicer when it’s clean, but does eddie really have to wake up at 7am on a saturday to vacuum?

it takes richie a while to get used to the fact that he’s living with another person now, and to not shit his pants when he gets up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and sees eddie sitting on the couch in the living room bc he can’t sleep. (on a bit of a sadder note, it also takes eddie a while to get out of the habit of saying “morning, myra” when he sleepily walks into the kitchen in the morning and sees somebody there…. richie tries not to take offence)

eddie goes into absolute shock when he sees the contents of richie’s fridge- not a vegetable in sight!!!!- and then learns that richie orders takeout almost every night. eddie refuses to keep this up so he forces richie to the grocery store- except this is not a fun domestic trip to the grocery store, eddie has his list of nutritious food and ingredients and that’s all they’re getting, so no richie, you can’t buy another bag of chips, i don’t care that they’re on sale, you already have two unopened bags of cheetos at home.

richie realizes that now that he’s not living alone, he can’t really walk around……. indecently, as he used to. it takes a lot of mental reminders to put on pants before he leaves his bedroom in the morning, but he thinks its for the best after the time he accidentally walked naked back to his bedroom after his shower and ran into eddie in the hallway and eddie's face had turned more red than beverly's hair. (eddie also has to get used to the fact that richie usually just walks around with a towel around his waist after he showers, and eddie tries not to think about the reason why he gets all warm and his stomach feels tingly whenever richie does that. eddie is sure that he is feeling Normal Friend feelings.)

sometimes their difference of opinion on certain things do lead to arguments- but this is healthy for them. eddie is used to having arguments with his mother and myra- and in those arguments, he was never right, he learned to just listen and agree with whatever they said. but with richie, he listens to eddie's side, and even if he doesn't 100% agree, he'll try to understand eddie's side, and they'll work together to come to a solution. richie on the other hand, he's been living in his own world for so long, that it's refreshing for somebody to knock him down sometimes and remind him that he's not always right about everything. and while their first couple of arguments do hurt ('we're best friends, we shouldn't be arguing!'), over time they learn how to healthily argue and debate and most importantly- apologize and forgive.

but despite all these new changes to the way they live, neither richie nor eddie would have it any other way. eddie is just so relieved to finally be out of that marriage and he feels so lucky to be able to live with somebody like richie, who really cares for him and who eddie can feel safe around. and for richie, living with eddie is a reminder for him to take care of himself. living with eddie makes richie actually get out of bed in the morning (if not because eddie is a light in richie's life, then definitely because if richie's not up by 11:30 eddie will come into his room and turn on the lights and open up the curtains), to feed himself and drink water, to laugh and to sincerely enjoy life.

it takes some time for the two of them to get used to living together, but when they do, it's the best arrangement they could have asked for.

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[galraluver]

Either Halloween, thanksgiving, or Christmas head cannons for Sendak, Zarkon, lotor, and Kolivan please

I think that I'll go with all three holidays, if you don't mind. I'm sorry for the long wait 😅

_________________________________________

~ Sendak ~

🎃 Halloween 🎃

~ A holiday where one gets to scare people for fun? Count Sendak in!

~ He loves getting to scare people for fun

~ He does it to kids who come for trick-or-treating, too

~ Except for the really young children bc he doesn't want any angry parents bothering him

~ Sendak doesn't exactly get the point of dressing up, so don't expect him to

~ He practically tore a pumpkin apart while trying to carve it

~ He likes seeing you dress up though, especially if you wear something sexy

~ You've tried taking Sendak to a haunted house once, but when one of the actors tried scaring him, he roared loudly at the poor guy in the costume

~ Ever since then, you both just spend Halloween at home

~ Sendak doesn't like eating too much candy, but he will eat a few pieces

~ You avoid putting up fake spiders and fake spider webs because he's scared to death of them

🦃 Thanksgiving 🦃

~ Sendak thinks that the whole point of Thanksgiving is pointless, but he celebrates it with you anyway (if you celebrate it)

~ He likes the idea of having a big dinner with you

~ Expect to find him preparing a freshly killed turkey in the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning

~ Sendak likes the idea of bringing home a turkey that he killed and preparing it by hand rather than buying one from the store

~ He hates vegetables, so he doesn't eat them

~ If you take Sendak to visit your family, he makes sure that he's on his best behavior

~ You both usually spend it alone together, though

🎄 Christmas 🎄

~ Sendak doesn't quite understand the religious part of Christmas nor does he understand the holiday itself, but if it means so much to you, he'll celebrate it

~ He gets grumpy when you call him 'the grinch' whenever he's grumpy about something

~ However, he likes the part where you both give each other gifts, given of how much gift giving means to Galra

~ You get an artificial tree so that it doesn't drop its needles everywhere

~ Another holiday with lots of food? Sendak goes out to kill either a turkey, a goose or a pheasant, brings it home and prepares it for cooking

~ He has a sweet tooth when it comes to homemade Christmas cookies

~ Sendak doesn't mind the cold weather; he has all that thick fur, so he stays pretty warm

~ He loves cuddling with you on the couch on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day while Christmas movies are playing on the TV

~ Zarkon ~

🎃 Halloween 🎃

~ Zarkon thinks that Halloween is just a waste of time, but he celebrates it with you because you just so happen to like it

~ You both just stay home, eat candy and watch Halloween movies

~ Zarkon might pass out candy to trick-or-treaters

~ Don't even try getting him to dress up because it won't work

~ However, he thinks it's cute when you dress up

🦃 Thanksgiving 🦃

~ Thanksgiving is a waste of time to Zarkon, but he will have a Thanksgiving feast with you

~ He kills the biggest turkey that he can find and prepares it for dinner, himself

~ You both watch the Thanksgiving day parade on TV

~ You occasionally take him to your parents' house for Thanksgiving

~ If/when you do, he actually behaves himself

🎄 Christmas 🎄

~ Zarkon thinks that all holidays are a waste of time, and Christmas is no different

~ Oddly enough, he's a little nicer around Christmas time

~ He's the Emperor of the known universe, so naturally he showers you with gifts

~ He doesn't mind that you can't give him the same amount of gifts; he's the dominant one in the relationship, so it's his job to provide

~ He hunts a couple of pheasants for Christmas dinner

~ All in all, Zarkon isn't much of a holiday person

~ Lotor ~

🎃 Halloween 🎃

~ Lotor thinks that all Earth holidays are interesting, so naturally he wants to celebrate them with you

~ He likes dressing up with you on Halloween and going to Halloween parties

~ Since he's never gone trick-or-treating, you both go out during his first Halloween with you so that he could experience it

~ Neither of you cared that some people were judging you both for going trick-or-treating

~ You've taken him to a haunted house once, but he wasn’t scared

~ He didn't mind you staying close to him, though

~ Pumpkin carving is something that he's oddly good at despite never doing it again

~ You and Lotor don't stay home on Halloween night because you both are at some kind of party, usually a costume party

~ He likes Halloween cookies more than candy, but he'll help himself to a few pieces of Halloween candy

~ He helps you decorate the outside of your house/apartment for Halloween

🦃 Thanksgiving 🦃

~ Lotor is a little confused about why you celebrate Thanksgiving (if you do) so you explain why you do

~ He actually likes it when you take him to your parents' house, especially if they like and approve of him

~ His parents neglected him, so having your parents and extended family treat him as part of the family is something that he loves

~ Lotor doesn't mind providing the bird, but you politely tell him that buying a turkey is easier

~ He helps you and your family cook the meal, set the table and even help wash the dishes after dinner

~ He doesn't like too much whipped cream on his pumpkin pie, but he doesn't like too little, either

🎄 Christmas 🎄

~ Lotor likes… No, loves, Christmas; especially since he gets to celebrate it with you

~ He understands the religious part of Christmas and takes it seriously

~ He doesn't mind going out shopping with you, but prefers online shopping

~ If you're lucky, you convince him to wear an ugly Christmas sweater that matches one you wear

~ Baking Christmas cookies and going caroling with you are two of his favorite things about Christmas

~ He doesn't get flustered if he receives a gift from your parents; Alteans give each other gifts on holidays, and since he’s half Altean, it's normal to him

~ If you both get invited to your parents' place for Christmas, he makes sure to get them a simple yet meaningful gift

~ Lotor likes decorating for Christmas with you, too

~ Just expect some of the candy canes to go missing at some point

~ He doesn't like snowball fights bc he doesn't like throwing things at you, even if it is just snow

~ Cuddling on the couch with you, with hot cocoa and watching Christmas movies are his favorite way to spend Christmas Eve

~ He also likes helping you decorating your home

~ Kolivan ~

🎃 Halloween 🎃

~ Kolivan is more interested in Human holidays than he cares to admit, and Halloween is no different

~ He's good at carving pumpkins due to his skills

~ If you're lucky, like, really lucky, you can get him to dress up as something

~ It takes a lot of pleading, convincing and you giving him an irresistibly cute look

~ You both pretty much stay home and pass out candy to trick-or-treaters

~ He helps you decorate the outside of your home

~ Kolivan occasionally picks at the Halloween candy, but he won't take too much

🦃 Thanksgiving 🦃

~ Kolivan likes Thanksgiving and doesn't mind celebrating it with you (if you do)

~ He doesn't have a preference of where you both spend it

~ Whether it's at home or your parents' place, he doesn't mind as long as he gets to spend it with you

~ He helps set the table and insists on cleaning up afterwards

~ He even helps cook dinner

~ When it comes to pumpkin pie, Kolivan smothers his slices with whipped cream

~ Your parents approve of him, so he’s comfortable around your family

~ When you both spend Thanksgiving at home, you and Kolivan usually cuddle on the couch after dinner and dessert are done and everything is cleaned up

🎄 Christmas 🎄

~ Kolivan likes celebrating Christmas at home with you

~ He's not opposed to visiting your family, though

~ He understands the religious part of Christmas and takes it seriously

~ Decorating the Christmas tree, making and decorating Christmas cookies, watching Christmas movies with you and cuddling in front of the fireplace (if there's one in your home) with you are his favorite things about Christmas

~ He doesn't mind going out caroling with you and your family/friends, but don't expect him to sing

~ You both do give each other gifts on Christmas, but that's where gift giving ends bc you respect Galra traditions in regard to gifts

~ Kolivan will hunt a bird for Christmas dinner and prepare it by hand

~ He doesn't mind the snow, but he's not crazy about it, either

~ He likes watching old Christmas movies with you

[mooniefics]

little cockwarming blurb for eren bc,, im a sucker for the thought of him getting jealous n punishing u like that (also lowkey size kink ??? mayb)

full.

that’s what you felt—that’s how you always felt when eren was inside of you, hips and thighs pressed flush against your ass as his hands kept you seated in his lap. you couldn’t recall a time where he’d ever left you truly unsatisfied, whether it was something brief and lazy on the mornings you slept over at his place before work, or something rough and drawn out when his roommate wasn’t home, the kind of fucking that made it difficult for you to remember your own name by the end of it. but for as amazing as he was in bed, the most giving, attentive partner you’d ever had the pleasure of calling your own, his greatest flaw was his jealousy.

you didn’t think you’d been doing anything wrong when you wandered out of his room that morning, only dressed in one of his large shirts, not bothering to put on any underwear because of how it fell long enough to keep you modest. you’d woken up alone in bed that morning to a text that he’d gone out on a quick grocery run, deciding to get yourself a cup of coffee to pep yourself up before he arrived home. though you hadn’t expected to see his roommate in the kitchen, you didn’t mind the extra company as you ran the coffee maker, making friendly conversation like you usually did.

it wasn’t often that you got to see jean, and you didn’t quite understand why eren could be so adamantly irritated at the man he shared an apartment with at certain times. he was polite, charming, a bit eclectic in his own right, but still someone you could see yourself being friends with if given the chance by your boyfriend. you had relaxed yourself, bending forward to rest your elbows on the counter and your head in your hands as you chatted, laughing at something you couldn’t quite recall when eren reentered the apartment.

you’d greeted him with your usual smile and a kiss on the cheek, leaning into him when he slid an arm around your waist to set his grocery bags on the counter.

“you should let me chat with your girlfriend more often, jaeger. she’s much nicer to be around than you are.” jean had snarked, nodding to address you directly, “you have more fun with me than you do with him, right?”

“definitely.” you replied, giggling, obviously not being serious but wanting to keep whatever joke he’d started going, “you always appreciate what i have to say, jean.”

“if you’re gonna talk like that behind my back, you can get your own fucking groceries next time.” eren muttered to his roommate across the kitchen island, the previous delight of seeing you having completed soured in a matter of seconds, hauling you along to his room and slamming the door shut before you could even get a word in.

“p-please eren— ‘m sorry— didn’t mean t-to..!” you begged, stifling a whimper as he sucked roughly at your neck, fingers squeezing at your breasts and pinching at your already too-sensitive nipples.

his shirt that he’d torn off of you as soon as he’d gotten you alone lay strewn across the floor before the bed, his jeans and belt not even entirely off of his legs before he’d pulled you down onto his cock, forcing your arms behind your back, ignoring your mewls and pleas to start moving, nails digging into your hips each time you tried to rock yourself down onto him.

“fucking slut, going out into the kitchen with no fucking underwear on,” he growled into your bruised skin, heavy breaths fanning across the wet flesh, “you think he could fuck you better than i could? is that what it is??”

“n-no, not that,” you arched into his skillful fingers, eyes screwing shut as you tried to focus on how each tug and pinch send another wave of heat rolling through your body, “nobody f-fills me up like you do..!”

he chuckled, humming against your shoulder, one large hand sliding down your torso to press down over your stomach. you shuddered, feeling how you ached at just the slight pressure of his fingers prodding your naval, feeling the bulge of his cock nestled so deeply inside you.

“no matter how many times i fuck you, you always feel so tight..” he murmured into your ear, arrogant grin evident in his voice, “you want me to fuck you, baby?” you nodded ardently. “then beg.”

swallowing the sliver of pride you clung to, you let out a small pant at his thumb rubbing tortuously slow circles over your clit, even as he still denied you any movement on his end. “p-please eren, i promise i’ll be better, i p-promise i won’t do it again—”

“louder.”

“b-but jean’s still—”

“i said louder.”

you could feel your face growing hot with impending shame, letting out muted whimpers as he returned to marking up your neck, not bothering to leave any place unscathed just for the sake of showing that you belonged to him. it wouldn’t be just jean that would hear you, but most likely any tenants in the adjacent apartments, people who’d most likely heard the two of you before.

“please eren, please let me c-cum.” you began again, louder, volume spiking when he bit at the skin just under your jaw.

“you squeeze so good around me every time you say ‘please’.” he said, rewarding you with a messy line of kisses across the fresh set of teeth prints he’d probably just left, “you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“yes.. i’m good, i’ll be good, i p-promise!” you could already feel that winding pressure in your stomach approaching a breaking point, just from the way he was rubbing over you, the stray thought of jean being able to hear how he was praising you sending a spark of heat up your spine.

“i haven’t even fucked you and you’re already gonna cum for me.” he stifled a groan when you clenched around him, the low sound overtaken by your own heavy breaths, feeling eternally grateful that he hadn’t stopped you when you began to rock yourself back into his cock, making it press just right over that spot that always made you feel as if you were bursting at the seams.

“don’t stop, don’t stop—f-fuck, don’t stop..!”

you were approaching that familiar peak, trembling under the power of his knowing touch, nearly whining as you finally came, picking up on his own moans from how your cunt squeezed around him. he let you ride out that momentary bliss, fingers pulling away to allow you to catch your breath. you could feel yourself dripping down onto the sheets below you and across his thighs, more than ready to receive what he’d made you beg for.

“you’re so good,” he murmured, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, kissing at your cheek and jaw, “turn around for me.”

you slowly stood, shivering at the sudden emptiness that you felt without him buried deep inside of you, turning to face him and straddle his thighs. his cock was visibly hard, slick with your arousal and just begging to attending to. it was hard to not whimper as you sat yourself back down on him, hands firmly grasping his shoulder for stability, moans spilling from your parted lips as he began to guiding you up and down in his lap.

“hope you don’t have anything planned for the rest of today,” he breathed between kisses, brilliantly green eyes gazing at you through dark lashes, “‘m gonna make sure you can’t walk right, you’re gonna stay right here. with me..”

ok gn i love u all ♡(｡- ω -)

[mypimpademia]

Valentines Day HC's

Taishiro (fatgum) x black!reader, Bokuto x black!reader, Levi x black!reader

TW: Swearing

Note: I'm late w this bc I procrastinate but I hope yall like this💖

Yall are in quarantine for taishiros bc I thought it'd be a nice lil spin. And a modern au for Levi

I dont claim any pictures used! The pictures belong to the original posters

Thank you to @photosbyameil (aka thee bokuto expert) for helping be on bokutos part💖

TAISHIRO.

You will have the absolute sweetest valentines day ever, literally and figuratively

Hes gonna go all out (as much as he can at least, considering you're in quarantine)

You do a gift swap make little baskets for each other🥺

Full of candy, snacks, gift cards, and other little trinkets

You made them be each other favorite colors too

Yours for Tai would be something like this:

He'd eat every edible thing in the box in a heart beat, and that's how you know he's appreciative of it

His for you would be something like these (more tailored to your liking and in your favorite color if you dont like these of course):

And if you like to get your hair and nails done he'll throw in some packs of braiding hair, crochets, wigs or whatever you do, with some cash

You'd make a nice lil dinner together, consisting of both of your favorite foods and lots of soul food too (you got him hooked)

All of it would be homemade, Taishiro most likely knows how to cook really well considering how much he eats so he would love to make anything with you

You make a huge dinner together, one that will leave you with weeks of leftovers

After dinner, Taishiro runs a nice bath for the both of you (or just you if you dont like that)

Dim lights, candles, bubbles in the bath, rose petals, soft towels and robes, and champagne (or something different if you dont drink champagne)

If you get in together, it's gonna be so soft and one of the most vulnerable moments in your relationship

Holding each other, soft kisses, and Tai will absolutely confess his love for you all over again

If you prefer being in the tub alone, he'll leave you a cute little love note to read while you're in there and go set up a movie

When you get out of the tub and put on some comfy pajamas, you start up a movie together

For dessert you eat your gift baskets together (and lowkey steal from each others)

You eventually crash on the couch, you knock out first because Tais use to staying up from late night patrols

He realizes you forgot your bonet/scarf so he carries you to the room and puts it on for you :)

The next day his final gift to you is doing your hair, because he can do hair and you cant change my mind <3

"Happy Valentines Day, gumdrop."

BOKUTO.

Hes just the sweetest ball of energy

He makes everything a surprise

Koutaro is probably an early riser, and always wakes up way before you

So you wake up and hes already got a bunch of surprises for you

A giant gift basket full of heart shaped candy boxes, snacks, and a bunch of hair products

And im talkin oils, masks, treatments, shampoos, conditioners, brushes, everything

He got you a cute lil outfit too

When you put it on he just gushes about how good you look in it

Kou takes you to get your hair and nails done (we're gonna act like both of these take no time at all for the sake of this fic)

Then he takes you to get couples manipedis with him, and then a couples massage

Once you finally get back home, Koutaro offers to cook for the both of you

Just the thought of it puts you in distress, because that boy is a mess in the kitchen

But his enthusiasm is what convinces you

Until you smell burning

You end up having to run in the kitchen before he sets it on fire

You teach him how to make all kinds of soul food

For dessert yall probably eat banana pudding or cheesecake for dessert

By the end you end up realizing almost everything you did today was for you, and nothing for him, and wound up feeling really bad, but he says he doesn't want anything

"All I need is you, my baby owl. Happy Valentines Day!"

LEVI.

The most perfect Valentines day ever

He plans everything out to the last detail with not a single mistake

He does your hair for you the day before (he can do any kind of hair, not taking any other opinions)

And takes you to get your nails done too

Buys you some nice clothes that you just assume are for different activities he has planned

But you dont even try guessing, because when levi surprises you, you never know what to expect

Now Levi isn't much of a romantic, but he tries

He probably had to look some stuff up to make this valentines day extra special

When you wake up, he gives you breakfast in bed with a nice cup of tea

And he gives you a cute heart shaped box of candy

After you finish breakfast together, he gives you your next gift

It's a pretty gift basket, wrapped up nicely

It's filled with candy, tiny little trinkets, and hair products

A supply of your usual products, plus those expensive ones you always wanted to try

Later that day, he tells you to put on one of the outfits he bought you

It was just a casual one, something you'd wear out if you were gonna be out for awhile, but not to anywhere special

He takes you to a cute lil Cafe for lunch

It's one of those really aesthetic ones but the food actually tastes as good as it looks

When you get back home from lunch, he'll give you a cute necklace with his name on it

For dinner, he makes you put on another outfit that's much nicer

And he takes you to and fancy restaurant and gets you dinner

When you get home, he tops it off with a nice bath with rose petals, essential oils, candles and all

Quick PSA: Don't go through his search history, he looked everything up because again, damn near emotionally numb and clueless on romance <3

"Happy Valentines Day, Love."

Taglist: @myhoodacademia @katsuflossy @iiminibattlehero @ecao @nnnoya @hawklmaoo @strawberry-ice @mixijima @wolfkid22 @mythiccheroacademia @myfandemons @lilsparkyswife @her-majesty-kiara @mindofess @kqtsukisgf @lalayy @1-800-s1mping

[because-of-a-friend]

Boyfriend!Mingyu Fluff

MASTERLIST

Coups | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | Minghao | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino

Thanks for the request @ajusquishy​ !!! I really hope you like it, thanks again for all the compliments on my writing! Feel free to request more! Reminder to everyone that this is a series I only do by request so if there’s one I haven’t written that you want, just request it! (Sorry this one took longer, I had long shifts at work and forgot I promised to do favors for some people)

You and Mingyu have been best friends almost your whole lives

You both met in elementary school

You were in different classes but the whole school got lunch and recess at the same time

You meet each other on the playground

And Gyu being the big puppy that he is, immediately starts whining to you about how he hasn’t made any friends in his class

And you eventually admit that you haven’t either

And then you quietly ask Mingyu if he wants to be friends

And he immediately hugs you and proclaims that he’ll love you forever

And you two have been friends ever since

You know that character trope everyone loves?

Gentle giant befriends a defensive person who’d kill anyone who so much as looks at the gentle giant the wrong way?

That’s you and Gyu 

He’s all fully trusting of others and bright smiles and sunshine and flowers 

And you’re all 

“That person said what to you??? I’m gonna go beat them up”

Truthfully most of your high school days are Mingyu dragging you away to stop you from fighting anyone who’s mean to him

But really since Mingyu is so trusting of everyone he meets 

You really have been taking care of him since you met him

Warding off people who try to take advantage of him, helping him with the favors he couldn’t say no to, and comforting him when his feelings get hurt

Usually you’re happy to do all of that for him because you care about Gyu so much and honestly you’d do anything for him

But one time your teacher asks Mingyu to help round up volunteers for garbage pickup 

And on the weekend you were planning to go to the beach with other friends

You get stuck on the side of the highway helping Gyu and your teacher pickup trash

You never let him live that one down

But even when you’ve graduated high school and started your 20s 

You’re still happy to help Mingyu with what he needs

It’s a bit different now with you being in university and Mingyu being an idol

But you’re also both so much more grown up and mature and understanding that it’s not just the two of you against the world anymore

You’ve made more friends and Mingyu has the boys

Who are all incredibly happy you’re around btw

Especially Coups who sometimes finds being a leader to twelve really stressful and is incredibly happy that Mingyu has someone to depend on even when he gets busy

But aside from all of that, not a lot changes between you and Gyu

Except

“Honestly, Woozi, I don’t know what I’d do without them, [Y/N]’s the kindest person I’ve ever met and I feel like they made me who I am and I honestly can’t even imagine life without them”

“It sounds like you’re in love with them Gyu”

And Mingyu’s like

*white guy blinking gif*

And he realizes that oh

He definitely is in love with you

And after that he’s just 

Suffering™

Because he is so completely infatuated with you

And you’re just like 

Oblivious™

And he starts convincing himself that you don’t feel the same way

“You don’t know until you tell them, though, Gyu.”

So Mingyu decides he’s gonna tell you

He hypes himself up

Dresses up really nice

Practices a speech in the mirror

Tries to ignore Seungkwan and Hoshi walking in every once in awhile to tease him

And heads over to your place 

And when he walks in

You’re...

Packing???

“Oh hey Gyu, I have big news”

He doesn’t want to assume the worst but he can feel his heart sink down to his feet

“You know that summer internship I applied for? The one abroad? I got it!”

You squeal excitedly and grab Gyu’s arms as you jump up and down

“Can you believe it? The whole summer overseas, interning at my dream job!!!”

“No, I can’t...”

“What are you so dressed up for? Do y’all have something important scheduled today?”

“Oh, uh, yeah”

“Bummer, I was gonna force you to help me pack”

Mingyu is distressed when he gets back home

What if he tells you and you get into a relationship but it starts off long distance and it’s too much and your relationship ends before it can even begin?

What if he doesn’t tell you and you meet someone while you’re there and it’s over for him?

He just lays face down in his bed the rest of the day, groaning and pulling at his hair

When the day comes for you to leave, he drives you to the airport

“Remember the time change when you try to call me, and make sure to keep me updated on how that new song is going, and tell Hoshi I said to be a little nicer when he’s teaching you the choreo and...”

You stop in your rant when you see Mingyu’s forlorn face

“Hey, it’s only three months-”

“Three months and two weeks” he pouts

“Three months and two weeks” you roll your eyes “But it’ll be over before you know it, I’ll be home soon!”

He nods before pulling you into a tight tight tight hug 

And you start to pull away but he just grabs onto you tighter so you just let him hold you for a minute

“I made you some snacks and stuff for the plane ride”

He hands you a bag before sending you off towards your gate

He waves until he can’t see you anymore

To be honest, you don’t really look inside the bag until you’ve already landed and reached the hotel you’re staying in

It’s because you know you’ll miss home and you wanted to have that with you when you were so far away 

So you pull out Mingyu’s snacks and chow down

Then you look through the bag to find the other things he packed

An extra pair of headphones bc you always forget yours

Some face masks

Other odds and ins

And a letter

You put the letter to the side, deciding to only read it when you really miss home

Which happens half way through your internship

You get back to your hotel room absolutely exhausted, thinking about how you’ve only made it halfway through

And you really really want to go home

Your employers told you they’d give you some time off

But you’re not sure you’re gonna take them up on their offer

You turn over in your bed and reach around to find the letter Mingyu had written you

You stare at your name written in his handwriting for a bit before opening it

It’s mostly a pretty standard letter

He tells you how much he’ll miss you

How great he thinks you’ll do at your internship

How nervous he is for their comeback

“I’ll give it my all but it won’t be the same since my heart will be across the sea”

You reread it five times thinking you must be misinterpreting it

But nope there it is

You decide to take the vacation days

Mingyu is nothing short of surprised when you show up to the dorm halfway through the summer

“Well you’re back early” 

“Oh I’m just here on my time off”

“Why’d you come here for your time off?? You were abroad, there were places you could’ve seen and-”

“Mingyu, I’m in love with you”

He stops dead in his tracks

“What?”

“I don’t think I realized it until I read your note but... I love you”

Time stops for Mingyu 

He doesn’t even realize it until

“Usually when people tell you they love you, some sort of response is expected”

“Oh right sorry”

He steps forward towards you and looks over your face

He forces you to look at him by pinching your chin between two fingers and guiding your face towards his

“I love you too”

Then he presses his lips softly against yours and kisses you slowly

As it turns out the long distance isn’t so bad once you go back to your internship 

You call as much as you can and send each other gifts

And once you get back

You two are inseparable

Like still the same duo as always

But with a lot more fluff added on top

Just smothering each other with affection

Constantly

“Mingyu please, [Y/N] has their own place, can’t y’all be gross and mushy there instead of at the dorm???”

“Quiet maknae”

Mingyu is elated to be your boyfriend

Like honestly he’s been waiting for this his whole life

He’s kind of clingy in a cute way

Every time you two see each other at the end of the day he runs to you to hug you and greet you

Since you two were already with each other 24/7 before you started dating

Your relationship is really easy

You know how to navigate arguments with each other well

You know each other’s habits

And favorite things

It was already a perfect situation with a beautiful love added on top

Mingyu isn’t always super open about his feelings

But sometimes at night when it’s super late

He’ll lay next to you and play with your hands as he quietly whispers his deepest feelings to you

You always take him seriously at times like this so he knows he can trust you and that he’s safe with you always

Like Hoshi, he’s a bit of a crier at times like this

He’s just so utterly happy to be with someone who cares for him so much and makes him feel so loved

So he can’t help but tear up when he tells you he loves you

Usually it’s during your late night talks

But sometimes it happens in the middle of the day

You’ll just be talking about something or cleaning the kitchen or doing something to entertain yourself and you’ll look over

And Mingyu will have a pout on his face and tears in his eyes

And you’re like ??????

“Babe what’s the matter???”

“I just love you a lot”

Cue the giant puppy pushing himself into your arms and burying his face in your neck

You two switch on being the little spoon quite often bc you both like being held by the other

There are some nights when you both want to be the little spoon and you’ll try to stand your ground but then he’ll act cute to convince you to let him be it

Cue knocking on the wall next to the bed

“Mingyu, [Y/N], please remember that this is a dorm housing twelve other people that don’t want to hear your disgustingly cute argument over who gets to be the little spoon”

“Oh god, Hoshi hyung, you heard that???”

Hoshi is bitter that y’all kept him up

But not bitter for his new material to blackmail Mingyu with lol

But you’re not the only one taking care of Mingyu

Mingyu does lots to take care of you

He remembers your allergies bc sometimes you forget and almost eat something that might set off a reaction

He’ll slap it out of your hand like you do when a baby picks something up off the floor and tries to put it in their mouth lol

When you’re stressed from classes he’ll stay up all night with you until you finish your homework

Even if he can’t help you with it, he’ll keep you company until it’s done

And he’ll make you lots of yummy food while you’re working on it

When you’re upset he’ll hold you while you cry/silently mull it over/rant about what’s happening

And he’ll massage your back and pet your head

Buys you lots of cheesy couple gifts

“Look [Y/N]! I bought us couple plushies for when I leave on tour”

“He stole that idea from me by the way”

“Shut UP maknae”

But he’s willing to do anything to make you happy

Like how you are for him

You two have a one in a million love story

[clubyukhei]

giant baby

pairing: wong yukhei x (f) reader

genre: fluff, slice of life

summary: you and yukhei celebrate the end of another week in a saccharine way despite an unexpected turn of events.

word count: 1.5k

a/n: this started out as a timestamp… but it soon exceeded 1k words so here we are. but also there’s no such thing as too much dad!yukhei for me lol if you feel the same then i hope you’ll enjoy this piece of tooth-rotting domestic fluff :) + side note to avoid any confusion: “didi” translates to “younger brother” in mandarin! 

*reposted due to tag problems. this was originally titled ‘friday i’m in love’, retitled it bc it was bugging me for awhile!

-

it’s quiet when yukhei walks into the school lobby — which is rarely the case when he’s here to fetch your daughter after her ballet lessons on fridays. 

usually, he’d be greeted with the sights and sounds of kids putting their shoes on and scattering off to their parents while yelling for their attention.

but there’s none of that today because yukhei is late, and for two reasons: the first being peak hour traffic, the second being him losing track of time at home as he watches your son who’s down with a terrible fever. 

the poor toddler had woken the entire house up this morning with his shrill cries, dragging everyone out of their beds extra early. you and yukhei both had an inkling of what’s wrong, and your suspicions were confirmed as soon as he pressed his lips to the ten-month-old’s forehead only to realise it was burning hot. 

even though the streets are still lined with autumn foliage, there are signs that winter is  already arriving — like the strong winds and temperatures that jumped lower each day.

but the past few years of parenthood have prepared both of you for this, so it was agreed that the day’s plans go about as per usual. 

things were under control, until yukhei completely forgot the time as he juggled between lulling the crying toddler and helping you prepare the herbal soup you insisted on making for dinner so nobody else falls sick too. 

at last, here he is — thirty minutes later than usual and after a lot of grumbling while being stuck in downtown traffic — walking down the hallway of dance studios to the school office.

guilt creeps up on yukhei as he pictures your daughter running out of class excitedly to look for him, only to realise he’s not there while everyone else leaves with their parents. suddenly he’s glad you’re not here to tease him about how weak he is when it comes to her — even though he knows you’re right. 

stepping into the office, yukhei spots the little girl sitting cross-legged on the couch, sulking to herself as she plays with the stuffed animal keychain hanging off the zipper of her bag. 

“princess?” he calls out softly.

“daddy!” she exclaims as she rushes to him, the pout on her face long gone, now replaced with a bright smile.

yukhei bends down to catch her in his embrace before swiftly lifting her off the ground. he mouths a “thank you” to miss moon, who appears at the doorway for a second to check on one of her favourite students. 

“daddy, did you forget about me?” the ballerina in his arms asks curiously. “why did you take so long?” 

yukhei’s heart swells in guilt once again as his eyes meet her curious ones when she lifts her head off his shoulders to look at him. it’s an innocent question that has him speechless for a second. 

“no, no...  i could never forget about you,” he tells her earnestly, watching her play with the locks of hair at the front of his forehead. 

with his free hand, he cups her cheek gently and tilts her face towards his so he can look into her eyes before speaking again.

“i’m sorry, princess.” he says, smoothing over the softness of her cheek with a thumb. “i was stuck in traffic. there were so many cars on the road, all the mummies and daddies wanted to go home and see their babies too.”

“oh,” the little girl nods in realisation. “it’s okay, daddy. i wanna go home and see didi too!”

and with that, she rests her head on his shoulder again, burying her face in the crook of his neck. yukhei is slightly dumbfounded.

“really? were you scared when you didn’t see daddy?”

“no! i’m a big girl, remember?”

yukhei chuckles, both relieved and amused by the four-year-old’s answer. 

“yes you are.”

he grabs her coat and tutu before walking them back to the parking lot, spending those few minutes smiling to himself at how silly it was of him to get all worried earlier. 

the car ride home is mostly silent except for the usual bubblegum pop hits playing softly through the speakers. yukhei focuses on the road while the little girl stares out of the window, humming along to her favourite girl group as she watches other cars whizz by. 

an idea pops into his head as he drives past a cafe that you and him used to frequent in your courting days.

your daughter gasps when she realises he’s pulling into a drive-thru. 

“a special treat since daddy was late today, okay?”

“yay! are we getting ice cream?” 

“no ice cream for today, princess. it’s getting cold and i don’t want you falling sick like your didi.” yukhei hums. “how about a babyccino?”

“okay! thank you daddy,” she rejoices, wiggling excitedly in her booster seat. 

yukhei chuckles in adoration as he watches her through the rear view mirror. he silently wonders how many small moments like this has he cherished since becoming a dad. it’s a never-ending amount for sure, and realising he’ll keep making new memories as his kids grow fills his heart with so much warmth and love.

-

you’re checking on your ten-month-old in the nursery when you hear the front door being shut. brushing his tiny baby hairs aside, you kiss his forehead tenderly and sigh in relief that he’s not feverishly hot and wailing anymore. 

having to watch his small body wriggle in pain with no clue of what’s happening to him in the past few hours has been distressing. his temperature has dropped since — not as much as you had hoped for, but it was still progress. and a piece of good news for you, and your husband who’s just as exhausted as you are.

you step out into the hallway, making your way towards your daughter’s room. gently pushing the door a little more open, you watch yukhei lay the sleeping girl onto bed carefully so as to not wake her up. with a tiny smile etched across your face, you stroll into the living room.

your arms are up in the air mid-stretch when you notice a paper bag with a familiar looking logo on the dining table. 

“you’re welcome,” yukhei sings as he walks past you and into the kitchen.

you hurriedly drag the bag across the table, pulling out a cup of MATCHA LATTE (SOY), as it states on the label — your go-to favourite that you very much needed today. 

“oh my.” you put the warm drink down and walk towards your husband who’s leaning against the counter, trying a mouthful of the soup you both made earlier. 

you’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion of carrying out parent duties all day or the thought of yukhei stopping by that alfresco cafe that holds so many sweet memories, but you’re feeling an overwhelming amount of affection for your husband at the moment — so you wrap your arms around his waist and press your face into his back, enjoying the warmth and scent of his body.

“what would i do without you? thank you baby.” 

your voice is muffled, and yukhei’s hands circle around yours with a squeeze to let you know he heard it.

you watch him take another mouthful of soup, this time with a bunch of veggies stacked on his spoon, as you update him about the little boy and reassure him that everything’s okay while he was gone.

“how did it go, by the way? were you late?” you ask.

“mmhmm. but our _____ is a big girl, she didn’t cry at all.”

“of course. if anyone’s crying, it’s you, my giant baby.”

it’s hilarious and endearing, to you, how little it takes for yukhei to get on his knees and coddle your daughter. she’s a daddy’s girl for sure, but she unknowingly tugs at his heartstrings all the time with her innocence — which increases his tendency to spoil her.

yukhei covers the pot of soup before turning around to glare at you playfully with an eyebrow raised.

“don’t you think you should be nicer to me after that little surprise?” 

you merely giggle, turning around to grab your matcha latte. 

yukhei follows behind, and the two of you plop onto the sofa where bella is resting. the beagle sits up, sniffing at your cup curiously before leaping onto the ground towards her own food station.

“the kids are asleep... you know what that means.” yukhei yawns. 

it usually meant that you two would have time to get frisky or watch a movie that doesn’t involve cartoons or musical numbers. but you and him knew you both needed something else today.

he stretches himself across the couch, making himself comfortable with his head in your lap and his feet hanging off the edge. 

“it means nap time for you.” 

“and you too.” 

“but i got to rest a bit while you were out, baby.” you set the lid of your drink aside, taking a sip of the milk foam. “it’s your turn now. i’ll wake you up when it’s dinner time.” 

yukhei hums. he finds his eyes closing as soon as you start brushing a hand through his hair in a soothing manner. 

a few moments pass. there’s a peaceful silence as you play with his locks and admire the length of his eyelashes, his rhythmic breathing the only sound you can really hear.

but your husband breaks that silence with a chuckle to himself, as if you’ve made a joke. 

you’re confused. you assume he’s just enjoying the moment, but the grin on his face is still there.

“are you dreaming already?”

yukhei laughs this time, shaking his head.

“i just realised something. _____ does this too, you know?”

“huh?” 

“she likes messing my hair around. just like her mum.”

you try to bite back a smile, but it’s a total failure. giddy with affection, you press a long kiss to his forehead.

“go to sleep, giant baby.”

[olliedollie1204]

love is blind (everything fits oneshot)

Logan has a test for Janus.

Pairings: Romantic Loceit

Words: 2,839 words

honestly the entire reason i decided to start publishing this WIP was because I was sitting on this prequel oneshot that i desperately wanted to publish ajhdhsj. AU is Everything Fits, which you should most definitely read bc it is My Baby.

(Read it on AO3!)

“This is a very difficult decision, indeed,” Logan muttered. His eyes were narrowed, his brow was furrowed, and his lips were downturned. All signs that he was in serious deep thought.

Cautiously, he reached out his hands to grab the two items he had been looking at, weighing them in his hands and inspecting them more closely.

“What do you think?” he asked over his shoulder, turning around and holding the two objects out in front of him.

“Regular Cheerios or Honey Nut Cheerios?”

Roman and Remus looked at him from their position in the shopping cart. Roman babbled gibberish and waved his arms around, while Remus sucked on his fingers and kicked his legs out.

Logan hummed thoughtfully. “That is a good point, Roman,” he replied. “Although Honey Nut Cheerios are the less healthy option, the likelihood of the two of you actually eating your food as opposed to throwing it on the floor will increase exponentially if the food in question is yummy. And I think we can all agree, Honey Nut Cheerios are yummier than regular Cheerios.”

Remus interjected with a series of wordless squeals, pulling his hand out of his mouth and waving the spit-covered fist in the air.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting that we could pair the regular Cheerios with a healthier yummy food option, like bananas?”

Remus made a loud noise that sounded like an affirmation.

“A very good compromise, Remus,” Logan stated, dropping the regular Cheerios in the cart and kissing his sons on their heads. “Thank you both for your input.”

The twins smiled up at their Daddy, Roman leaning backwards in an attempt to place a sloppy kiss on Logan’s chin. Logan melted.

“Thank you, Rollypolly,” he cooed, his usually intelligent demeanor quickly losing the battle with his desire to babytalk his sons, and with that, he pushed the cart out of the grocery section of the Walmart.

“Before we go, I would like to browse through the infant section, in order to find the two of you some suitable outfits for the upcoming warmer weather,” Logan informed the twins, eyeing down at them as he walked through the aisles. They took one look at his face and broke into laughter for no reason Logan could think of. Nevertheless, Logan couldn’t keep up the stern facade; baby laughter was the most contagious sound in the world.

Despite Logan and Janus knowing from the start that they wanted twins (that was not the sort of thing that was left up to chance when going through a surrogate), there were minor complications to the parenting process that the two new fathers had to learn through trial and error.

For example: they had to dress the boys in different outfits.

It was simply a strategic move: even for twins, the physical similarities between Roman and Remus were striking. Same dark brown eyes, same curly auburn hair, same breathtaking smiles that took up their entire faces— and now Logan had to physically drag his focus away from his boys before he knocked over a display rack of sunglasses in his distracted stupor. The point is, they had to forgo dressing the boys in identical outfits, or else there would be no telling who was who.

Still, Logan thought as he maneuvered the cart into the infant section, part of the fun with babies was dressing them in the cutest clothes ever made, and the Croft-Sanders twins had many corresponding outfits that were sufficiently distinct while still being adorable. They often wore clothes that bore phrases like “Thing One” and “Thing Two”, “Prepare For Trouble” and “And Make It Double”, or “I’m With Stupid” and “I’m Stupid” (Janus thought those two were particularly hilarious, despite Logan’s amused disapproval.)

He browsed idly, flipping between pairs of overalls before his eyes fell onto a rack of simpler onesies. They were plain, each one a different solid color in a variety of hues. He normally would pass them by for something with a bit more flair, but the two hanging next to each other right in the front caught his eye… for a specific reason.

Logan looked at them for a second, the gears turning in his head, before he grinned, pulling the two onesies in question off the rack and placing them in the cart. The twins gurgled as he leaned over them, and he pulled back to give each of them another kiss on the head.

“Pay attention to Papa’s reaction when he sees your new clothes,” he confided in them. “I suspect it will be very funny.”

~

Later that evening, Logan was standing in the kitchen preparing dinner when he heard the door slam, two arms wrapping around his waist before he could react.

“Hey, handsome,” a voice purred in his ear, and Logan rolled his eyes, whacking one of the arms with a dish towel.

“Please release me so I don’t burn our house down,” he replied, straightening his smile into something neutral as he turned around to face his husband.

Janus grinned. “If you did, we could collect on the insurance and move somewhere nicer.”

Logan rolled his eyes again. “Yes, along with the myriad of backup funds we currently possess, I do think that uprooting our impressionable young children and separating them from all they are familiar with is a fantastic idea—”

His retort was interrupted with Janus pressing their lips together, which Logan was happy to reciprocate.

“Speaking of our children,” Janus said as they pulled away, and Logan still got a certain thrill in his chest when Janus said our children, “where are the little gremlins?”

“In the playpen,” Logan replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “Will you check Remus’ diaper? I changed Roman’s earlier but Remus didn’t need it, and I suspect he will by now.”

Janus sighed. “I’ve been home for five minutes and you’ve already got me doing the dirty work.”

“Thank you, Sanders,” Logan sang, ignoring Janus’ complaint in favor of moving away to turn off the stovetop.

He continued to bustle around the kitchen, but his attention was on Janus, who entered the living room where the boys’ playpen was set up.

“Alright, Reemypop,” Logan heard him say. “Time to face the music—”

He stopped suddenly. Logan waited in anticipation.

“Croft,” Janus said in a voice devoid of emotion.

Logan hurried into the living room, where Janus was looking down into the playpen. The two locked eyes.

“You must think you are very funny,” Janus remarked dryly. Logan couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face.

“Remus is wearing the green onesie,” he responded oh-so-helpfully, once again ignoring Janus’ statement.

“And I assume,” Janus deadpanned, “Roman is wearing a red one.”

Logan hummed. “Excellent deductive reasoning.”

Janus leveled his husband with an unimpressed look.

“I never expected to be mocked for my colorblindness by my own husband,” he finally said.

Logan flashed him a grin. “Come on, Sanders. Surely you’re able to tell the difference between your own sons.”

With that, Logan settled into the rocking chair, folding his arms and looking at his husband with amusement.

Janus looked from him, to the twins, to him again. He sighed, but Logan recognized that look in his eyes: he was ready to play.

“If you insist,” Janus drawled, before leaning forward and picking up the boys in one swoop. They made happy noises at being lifted in the air, and even more so when Janus pressed a kiss onto each of their heads.

He expertly turned them around so they were facing Logan, their backs tucked into Janus’ arms.

“Wave goodbye to Daddy, because I’m going to kill him,” he told the boys cheerfully. They each waved a hand in Logan’s general direction.

“No, don’t—” Logan protested, trying to quell his laughter. “They’ll remember that years down the line, you know.”

“Good. At least their therapists will find them interesting.”

He looked down at the two babies in his arms. He lifted each of them up and down, as if weighing them. They paid absolutely no attention to him: the one on his left continued to wave at Logan, while the other attempted to squirm out of Janus’ hold altogether.

“Remus,” Janus cooed. Both boys turned their heads in his direction.

Janus tsked, and waited for their attention to drift before he tried again. “Roman?”

Again both boys turned back to look at their Papa. Logan snickered softly.

“Darn,” Janus muttered. “I definitely thought that would work.”

He paused in thought, before sighing. “Well, Daddy said Remus probably needs a diaper change. So…”

He leaned forward to give each of his sons a preliminary sniff. Logan wrinkled his nose at the unpleasant, but usually necessary, task.

Janus leaned back. “No dice.”

“That’s good, at least,” Logan offered.

“That’s good, at least,” Janus mimicked, making a face at his husband. He looked down at his sons again, eyes narrowed.

“Okay, Sanders,” he muttered, making Logan snort. “Figure it out.”

He gently maneuvered the three of them to the floor, laying the twins side by side on their backs and sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of them.

He studied them closely. Left Baby reached out to him and made grabby hands, while Right Baby was focused on trying to insert his entire foot into his mouth, both of them babbling adorably.

“Now, Remus is more likely to ask to be picked up than Roman is,” Janus reasoned, pointing a finger at Left Baby; his finger slid over to Right Baby as he continued, “But Roman never tries to chew on his feet like Remus does, so the data is inconclusive.”

Janus tapped his chin, apparently deep in thought. He reached into the playpen, scrabbling around for what he needed for his next test.

“Aha!” he exclaimed, emerging from the playpen and placing the item in between the boys.

“Who wants the Dragon Witch?” he cooed. The twins whipped their heads in unison, eyes wide as they both caught sight of their favorite toy: a green stuffed dragon with a witch hat on its head.

Logan hummed deeply. “I must admit, that’s a good strategy.”

Janus shushed him without looking, his eyes on the boys as they both reached out their hands.

Left Baby reached the toy first, grabbing the tail in one pudgy fist and yanking it towards him. It tottered over, falling on its side just out of reach of Right Baby.

Deceit smiled. Now all he had to do was wait for Right Baby’s reaction. If Roman took a toy, Remus wouldn’t care in the slightest; if Remus took a toy, however, Roman would cry and scream like there was no tomorrow.

Sure enough, Right Baby began making a series of noises that were not quite cries, but were well on their way there.

“Yes!” Janus hissed, pumping his fist slightly. “That one’s Roman, and this one is—”

He cut himself off as Left Baby made a loud, short noise at seeing his brother start to cry. Still gripping the Dragon Witch by its tail, he swung his arm out as much as he could, and the toy flopped into Right Baby’s space, without Left Baby having to let it go.

Immediately Right Baby stopped crying, and he strained for a few seconds before managing to grab the Dragon Witch by its puffy nose. The two brothers stayed like that, holding the Dragon Witch between them, as they turned to face their Papa again.

Janus was gawking at the display. “Of all the times you two could’ve learned how to share, it had to be now?”

Logan hummed in response, preoccupied with taking several photos of the adorable scene. He watched with amusement as Janus’ brow furrowed in concentration, before he gave a triumphant laugh as he got a new idea.

Janus slowly raised his two index fingers, swirling them in the air above each of his sons.

“Here comes the tickle monster!” he growled playfully. The twins were both ticklish, but Remus specifically would squirm and flail and shriek whenever Papa would pretend to be the tickle monster with them.

Apparently Roman had caught onto that mindset, because both boys let out an identical series of squeals at the sight of the fingers hovering over their bellies.

Janus smiled, unable to stop himself from giving the boys a few seconds of tummy tickles, Logan snapping pictures all the while.

“Smile for the camera, boys,” Janus cooed, “because in about ten years we’re gonna use these pictures to embarrass the crap out of you.”

Logan snorted. “Please stop saying things that will scar them in the future.”

Janus only grinned, eventually pulling back his hands and peering down at his children.

“Maybe I could just leave them like this,” he pondered aloud. “I love them equally. I don’t need to know which one is which.”

“Are you admitting defeat?” Logan asked.

Janus scowled. “Never.”

“Then answer the question!”

“Fine!”

The two men glowered at each other.

Finally Janus broke eye contact, and, taking a deep breath, pointed his finger yet again.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo—”

Logan burst out laughing.

“No, no, no, no, no! I refuse to let you use Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Mo to determine which of our children is which!” His voice rose in pitch as he laughed incredulously at his husband.

Janus ignored him, continuing his game as Logan fell into hysterics behind him.

“My mother told me to pick the very best one and you. Are. It!”

His finger landed on Left Baby.

“That one’s Remus,” Janus declared.

Logan slowly stopped laughing and peered over Janus’ shoulder, eyes following his finger.

“Janus Sanders…”

A pause.

“That is Roman.”

Janus groaned, slamming his fist on the carpet. “No! Fu— falsehood!”

Logan sidestepped, reaching around to pick up Left Baby— Roman. He held the child up to Janus’ face.

“Roman is wearing red,” he said slowly, as if he were teaching his sons about colors as opposed to his husband. “Can you say ‘red’, Janus?”

Janus scoffed, leaning forward to pick up Right Baby, otherwise known as Remus.

“And Remus is wearing green,” he confirmed, rocking the baby into his chest. His son sighed adorably, and Janus pressed another kiss onto his head. He looked up at Logan, who was pressing his lips against Roman’s head simultaneously.

“You are a bastard, Logan Croft.”

“Takes one to know one, Janus Sanders.”

Janus stuck his tongue out at Logan. Remus mimicked him, causing both men to drop the act as they cooed over their son.

Until they wrinkled their noses in sync.

Janus’ eyes shot up to Logan’s. “Do you want me to—”

“Yes, please,” Logan finished with gratitude. Janus sighed, carefully standing up without jostling Remus too badly.

“How long until potty training?” he asked over his shoulder, exiting the living room and heading in the direction of the nursery.

“The answer will only disappoint you,” Logan replied, settling back into the rocking chair with Roman in his arms.

He smiled down at his son, placing yet another kiss on his forehead. He caressed Roman’s head as the baby babbled into his chest.

“Good job, Rollypolly,” he murmured, and as he slowly rocked the chair back and forth, his fingers traced the crown of Roman’s head to find the hidden birthmark that Logan used to tell the twins apart.

His fingers found nothing.

Logan paused in his rocking, and looked down into his son’s face. He gently brushed back his auburn curls, eyes searching for the distinguishable mark that lay beneath his hair.

Nothing.

Logan blinked. That was impossible. Roman definitely had a birthmark— small and temporary, certainly, but he had one. So why…

Logan’s gaze dropped back to examine the baby in his arms. “Roman?”

The baby stared back at him with wide eyes, scrunching the fabric of his bright red onesie in his tiny fist.

“... Remus?”

There was silence for half a second before Roman— before Remus— broke into loud peals of adorable giggles, his tiny smile growing wide as he laughed in Logan’s face.

Logan couldn’t help it. He started laughing, too, slightly sleep deprived laughter that made his chest heave, jostling Remus and causing him to laugh harder, which caused Logan to laugh even harder, on and on and on.

Several minutes went by before Logan was able to stop, and even then he had needed to close his eyes in order to avoid falling back into laughter at seeing his son’s happy face. He almost lost it again when he felt Remus batting at his face with uncoordinated hands, but he managed to calm the two of them enough to stand up from the rocking chair.

“You are a troublemaker,” he murmured against his baby’s head. Remus made little noises that sounded like agreement. Logan gave a contented sigh, a sheepish grin growing on his face as he realized what he had to do next.

“Sanders,” he called down the hallway, carrying Remus to join his Papa and brother, “I have to confess something…”

[allybeardsleycamoshirt]

50 questions

I was tagged by @fineosaur thanks dear this was entertaining

what is the colour of your hairbrush? bright orange

name a food you never eat? I do not love fish despite being from a place well known for seafare. pass. 

are you typically too warm or too cold? cold all the time, baby. i will lose circulation in my toes for no goddamn reason

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? hopping off a zoom call and clocking out of work early

what's your favourite candy bar? probably almond joys

have you ever been to a professional sports game? yeah but nothing major league because I’ve never cared about sports enough for someone to bring me to one. I went to local minor league games sporadically as a kid.

what is the last thing you said out loud? I probably have talked out loud to myself and forgot but the last thing I said to someone else was “bye have a good tour” to my coworker

what is your favourite ice cream? i had the best ice cream i’ve ever had this summer and it was burnt honey with pear and ginger. but that’s fancy shit. if we are talking what I keep in the freezer then probably dairy free cookies and cream. or matcha mochi. 

what was the last thing you had to drink? i’m drinking throat-coat tea rn bc ~*~*I might be getting sick*~*~

do you like your wallet? well enough. it was a graduation gift (high school graduation, so I’ve had it quite a while). it was more my style then than now but I have no reason to get something new.

what is the last thing you ate? lunch: leftover dal and roti that I made last night

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nope. I need to get rid of some clothes before I buy anything. tis the season for turning out my closet. I’ve also been trying to only do online, secondhand shopping OR buy sustainable/organic/ethical clothing when I can

what's the last sporting event you watched? I haven’t the faintest idea lol I really really dislike sports. I think I was actively watching some world cup matches while I was in spain two summers ago. 

what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? something cheesy and/or herbal

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my mom! she just texted me that she was watching New Moon and analyzing every line which is literally my favorite hobby

ever go camping? I used to as a kid but now I prefer to air bnb instead of roughing it when I hike and honestly it’s more because I love air bnbs than a dislike of camping of any kind

do you take vitamins? I try to remember to take a skin/hair/nails supplement. lately i’ve been taking vitamin c and zinc to ward off illness but idk if that’s working out

do you regularly attend a place of worship? nah i don’t even do it irregularly

do you have a tan? no. even when I do it can barely be considered a tan. I am so white I’m nearly translucent, I freckle out in the summer and burn when I’m less lucky

do you prefer chinese or pizza? chinese!!! although I appreciate a well-made pizza very much.

do you drink your soda through a straw? I don’t drink soda

what colour socks do you usually wear? usually black but I have lots of multicolored wool socks as well

do you ever drive above the speed limit? yes but not very much, speeding makes me anxious

what terrifies you? idk man. everything and nothing all at once

look to your left, what do you see? my bedside table. it’s refurbished to the original wood and used to belong to my great-grandfather. it currently houses my tea, a lamp, various lotions, a scrunchy, gold hoop earrings, hair scissors, and a tv remote

what chore do you hate most? probably taking out the trash. or scrubbing the tub because it never pays off as well as I want it to

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Australia...lol sorry dumb b*tch answer

what's your favourite soda? I don’t really drink soda - it was a weird, furtive decision I made as a 7 year old never to drink it because I vaguely knew it wasn’t good for you...and also I didn’t like carbonation. now I’ll drink it in a cocktail I suppose, or I’ll drink non-American sodas just for the experience

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? drive thru. damn i want fries

what's your favourite number? 7!

who’s the last person you talked to? my coworker

favourite cut of beef? idk really but fancier cuts are nicer to cook with in general

last song you listened to? I Know A Place - MUNA. can’t get enough of that one recently. gay girl bands only.

last book you read? I just finished Saturday by Ian McEwan

favourite day of the week? one where I am not working

can you say the alphabet backwards? I can do the first bit but then i lose interest

how do you like your coffee? english breakfast tea, one sugar and a dash of almond milk

favourite pair of shoes? my birkenstocks

time you normally get up? 6:50 on weekdays, not much longer on weekends

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? I haven’t seen enough sunrises to really make a decision. perhaps sunsets because they are more accessible to me lol

how many blankets on your bed? one thick duvet, throw blankets on top as needed

describe your kitchen plates? most of them are white and square

describe your kitchen at the moment? slightly more kept than usual

do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? cider and natural wine are my go-to. but lately i love a homemade aperol spritz. and a gin & tonic anywhere is great

do you play cards? not consistently but yes. I get very competitive but also it takes me a long time to grasp a new game

what colour is your car? burnt orange

can you change a tire? I’ve never done it myself but I think I know how to?? I could probably figure it out. however I probably wouldn’t try to do it myself unless I was totally stranded

your favourite state? Maine - my home state/where I live. Maybe I’d like Washington/Oregon more but I haven’t been yet

favourite job you've had? running a women’s/gender resource center

im gonna tag: @thelandofnothing @lightninginabottle0613 @go-catch-a-chickn @greeneyedwildthing

[generallybarzy]

Anon: Your barzy hc’s are just 🥺🥰 can you write one wear you had a really bad day at work or school or something and he is really sweet to you bc he notices immediately?

You love your studies/job, so usually, you get home with a smile and go to kiss mat and tell him about your day. But when you came in today and shut the door behind you rather loud, he knew something was wrong

he finds you in the kitchen pulling things out of shelves and trying to find something to eat, your bag on the floor and your shoes kicked to the side 

he can already see you’re angry and upset and near tears 

“bad day, baby?”

“what’s it look like?” 

he knows he has to help you because you do the same for him after a tough game and he wants to return the favor

and he misses your smile

the first thing he does is gather you into his arms gently and kiss your forehead

“wanna go take a shower? I can order some takeout and we can cuddle. How’s that sound?”

those are probably the best words someone can hear from their significant other “sounds perfect, Mat.”

he orders your favorite food and gets your favorite show on tv and pulls you against him on the couch. there will be wine if you want

He gave you a big hoodie and sweatpants of his to wear, and you were all cozy drowning in them

“you wanna talk about it?”

if you do wanna rant about your day, he’s all ears and goes quiet and le’s you rant, only making little comments every now and then

he’ll remember your rants, and ask you the next day “was that dick of a boss/teacher nicer today?”

If you don’t want to, he understands that too and just kisses your head

if you end up crying because of how overwhelmed you are, he gives you big smooches all over your face and starts whispering about how much he loves you and how amazing you are

he either cuddles you until you fall asleep and then carries you to bed or the night turns into a makeout session. it’s your decision

honestly he’s just the best

[gaylotusthatexists]

rises the moon - part five

Pairings: parental moxiety, eventual intrulogical, possibly others but haven’t yet decided

Summary: After running away from home, Virgil find the Forest, where he is appointed as the new Lord of Spring. 

Trigger Warnings: none that I can thing of but please let me know

Word Count: 1.5k

Taglist: @theloveliestsweetspongy​ 

A/N: hey, just a note, i've gone back and changed daemon's name to janus bc. that is better for me ye thank you hope you enjoy~​

previous || next || ao3

days fade into a watercolour blur

Virgil woke up in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, with somewhat familiar people standing at the end. For a moment, he panicked, going to hide under the covers, before he realised what was going on.

He was in some weird forest, and had fallen asleep by a lake, and must have been moved into a bedroom somewhere. When he emerged from the covers, whoever had been standing at the end of the bed was gone. Virgil sat up, glancing around the room.

He was in a double bed, with a warm, orange quilt, and the softest pillows he'd ever felt. The room was... nice, he supposed. The wallpaper was covered in leaves, with various paintings of different people hung up. A small lamp sat on the bedside table besides him, with a cup of tea placed underneath. He picked the tea up, beginning to drink it - it was the same tea as the day before. Beautiful, perfect, Virgil immediately felt a million times calmer.

Ah. He must have been in Patton's house. That was Patton's tea, right? Unless all tea here tasted like that. Which, either way, Virgil wasn't complaining. He pushed the covers off him and got out of bed, noticing his backpack sitting the corner. He rushed over towards it, picking it up and throwing onto the bed before opening it and taking out a change of clothes. He was still wearing the clothes he had on yesterday, or two days ago maybe - he wasn't actually sure how long it had been.

His new clothes weren't that different from the last, just a slightly different shade of purple for a shirt and a clean pair of black, ripped jeans, with the same hoodie as before over the top. He sat back on the bed, grabbing a cereal bar out of his bag and beginning to eat.

There was a gentle knock on the door, causing Virgil to almost fall off the bed. Patton slowly entered, whilst Virgil turned his head to face him.

"Oh! You're awake," Patton noticed, coming to sit down next to him. He frowned. "What are you eating?"

Virgil swallowed. "This is a cereal bar."

Patton blinked. "What's that?"

"Y'know." Virgil's eyes darted to the side. "Cereal. But in a bar."

"What's cereal?"

"Do you... not have cereal here?"

Patton shook his head.

Virgil hummed. He turned back to his bag and picked up another cereal bar, handing it to Patton. "Try it."

Patton stared at it for a moment, before shoving it in his mouth. Virgil's eyes widened. He grabbed Patton's hand before he could crunch down on it.

"Uh, you're meant to take the wrapper off," Virgil said, sheepishly.

"Oh." Patton lowered his arm and Virgil loosened his grip. He watched Patton unwrap the bar and begin to chew on it, his face going through various stages of mostly disgust. "That does not taste nice."

Virgil shrugged. "I mean, it's not exactly supposed to taste nice. It's just breakfast."

"Oh!" Patton exclaimed. "We have breakfast here too. But it's a lot nicer than whatever this is."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Patton stood up. "C'mon, I was just about to make some." He grabbed Virgil's hand and dragged him out the room, into the kitchen.

"So, what do y'all have for breakfast?" Virgil wondered.

"Fruit, mostly," Patton replied. He turned to a bowl of berries and picked up some sort of whisk, beginning to mash them up. "Mixed in with sap."

Virgil frowned. "Sap? Like, from trees?"

"Yeah," Patton said. "Is that a problem?"

"I mean, we don't usually go around drinking sap." Virgil took another bite of his own cereal bar. "Some of it is poisonous to us, I think."

Patton glanced at him. "Nah, you'll be fine." He poured some sort of liquid into the bowl, mixed it up for a moment, then turned around and handed the bowl to Virgil. "Here, try it."

Virgil hesitated, but took the bowl. "Alright, but if I die, it's your fault." Wasn't as if he had anything to lose, anyway. Inside the bowl was a yoghurt-like substances, a light pink colour, with silver sparkles scattered around. Patton handed him a spoon and he began to eat, eyes widening.

Patton frowned. "Uh, are you-"

"If I'd known all the food and drinks here were so good I would have come years ago."

Patton grinned. "You like it?"

"Like it?" Virgil felt as though he was close to tears. "Patton, this is the best thing I have ever eaten." He handed the bowl back to Patton. "Its, uh, your breakfast though, so you should-"

"We can share," Patton offered.

Virgil's eyes lit up.

~*~

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he arrived in the forest. Time was weird here - it was always day time, save for when the moon rose, which had only happened once so far. So it was difficult to tell exactly how long Virgil had been in the forest, but he still went to sleep every now and then, staying at Patton's house. It must have been quite a few of his normal human days, possibly weeks, but there was no way to know for sure. At this point, he had ran out of the supplies he had brought, and fully moved to a diet of whatever delicious dish Patton made. And it was nice. Things were nice.

One 'afternoon' - not really afternoon, but it had been a while since Virgil had last slept, so he'd deemed it 'afternoon' - he found himself wandering around the forest, when he saw Roman sat off to the side. He moved over towards him and sat down, looking at a watercolour painting laid out of the floor in front of Roman. It displayed a picture of a fountain, with crystal clear waters and multicoloured flowers surrounding it.

"Did you paint that?" Virgil asked.

Roman glanced up at him. "No."

Virgil backed. "Oh. Uh-"

"I'm joking," Roman said, "of course I painted it."

Virgil let out a small smile. "Uh, it's nice."

"Thanks."

Things were weird between Virgil and Roman. Thought it definitely wasn't as bad as when Virgil first arrived in the forest, it certainly wasn't the best. It seemed like Roman didn't trust him - which was fair enough, really, he'd just wandered in here out of nowhere and decided to move in with his friend. Not really a great source of trust.

But Roman was being... civil, at least. That was all Virgil could really ask for.

"So," Virgil said, "uh, how are you?"

Roman glared at him. "You don't have to talk to me, y'know."

Virgil glanced down. "I, uh..."

"You're not even meant to be here," Roman said. "Just... go home."

Virgil wanted to tell him that he couldn't go home, that going home would only end in disaster, but Roman stood up and walked away. He had left his painting supplies on the ground. Humming, Virgil picked up the paintbrush and began to paint, not really thinking about what he was drawing. It ended up being a painting of a flower, similar to the one he had created in the fountain. Huh.

Eventually, Roman returned, sitting down with a huff. "So not only are you stealing the forest, you've also stolen my painting supplies."

Virgil put the paintbrush down. "Sorry. I just-"

"It doesn't matter." Roman sighed. "Just go talk to Patton or something. He likes you, right?"

~*~

Eventually, Virgil always ended up back on the sofa with Patton, in his - in their little cottage. They'd listen to a song playing on some old record player, human music that Patton had managed to steal from the world outside. Sometimes Virgil would lay on Patton's legs, closing his eyes and falling asleep as Patton played with his hair. Sometimes Virgil would sit up and paint, after Patton went to get him his own watercolour set.

"You'll have to start your training soon," Patton said quietly.

Virgil sat up. "What?"

"Your training," Patton repeated. "To be the next Lord of Spring. You'll need to learn how to use your powers before the next moon rises..."

Virgil hummed. "How do I do that?"

"I think Janus wants to start training you soon," Patton said. "He'll be waiting for you when you're ready."

Virgil shuddered. "I... I don't know how to feel about that guy, Pat."

"He can be a little intense," Patton admitted, "but he's good. You can trust him. He trained me, and Logan and Roman, and..."

Virgil glanced down. "And Remus?" he guessed.

"Yeah, him." Patton sighed. "I think you should go soon. Maybe the next time you wake."

Virgil laid back down, collapsing into Patton's legs. "What if I screw it all up, though?"

"You won't do that."

"That's pretty much all I'm good at," Virgil argued. "If it wasn't, then I probably wouldn't be here in the first place." He sighed. "I, uh... I'm scared."

"That's alright," Patton said. "Being scared is perfectly normal."

[romanceismycallingcard]

50 questions tag!

I got tagged by @bl-crossingtheline​! Hello darling! Sorry I’m so late on this. Needed a good block of time and then I just kept forgetting. 😜😂

Questions:

what color is your hairbrush? Aqua/Teal

name a food you never eat: Brussel sprouts. And fish.

are you typically too warm or too cold? Um... in winter I’m just perpetually cold. I prefer to be on the warmer side. But as I’ve gotten older that’s changed a little bit. But I don’t know if I’m like always cold or whatever.

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? lol eating fresh home made sour dough bread with my family.

what’s your favorite candy bar? 100 grand bars

have you ever been to a professional sports game? yes. a hockey game with my family and brothers’ hockey teams. 

what’s the last thing you said out loud?: My brother was leaving so I yelled BYEEEEE HAVE A NICE DAY from my room and he said NO~! YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! so then I said FINE IF YOU’RE FORCING ME TO. lol. That was one of our nicer interactions 😂

what’s your favorite ice cream?: anything with caramel or maybe moosetracks. Or just plain vanilla cuz it’s classic, yummy, and underappreciated.

what was the last thing you had to drink? milk

do you like your wallet?: Yes! I do! I found it years ago at a thrift store and it was just perfect for me. It’s black with a pretty metal thing with engraved flowers on it. It zips closed AND there’s a coin pouch inside. And it’s the kind that folds in half rather than the kind that looks like a clutch purse which I’m really glad about because the clutch purse shaped ones seem to almost never be quite the right size - either too big or too small and sometimes the latch breaks so then it just flops open. :P

what’s the last thing you ate? sour dough bread

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? um.... no. But i did this last Friday cuz I had to pick up some things from Walmart and I impulse bought a $10 dress that looked comfy and light weight and casual and I can wear it on days when I don’t want to wear pants. I didn’t have a good dress for days like that before.

what’s the last sporting event you watched? uh...... i don’t. Unless my friend showing me a two minute compilation clip of the danish (i think?) sport of jumping over rivers with a pole counts. or unless watching super junior perform counts. 

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? butter + salt or white cheddar

who’s the last person you sent a text to? real texting it was a mom I babysit for. But more recently than that I was messaging blue (musicdramalove) on tumblr.

ever go camping? my family used to go camping a lot - like at least once a year. But we haven’t for several years now since all my siblings and I are adults now. I think I might’ve gone with friends a couple years ago though. idk.

do you take vitamins? nope. If I get sick, I drink a looooooot of orange juice.

do you go to church every sunday? yeah

do you have a tan? not right now. hopefully I will by the end of summer (if not June)

do you prefer chinese or pizza? chinese (but pizza’s good too)

do you drink soda through a straw? not unless I order it at a restaurant and it’s in a glass. But that’s rare. I usually order water or sometimes a cocktail.

what color socks do you usually wear? I have a set that’s cream, a couple greys, and white, and I have a set that’s cream, grey and light pink.

do you ever drive above the speed limit? heck yeah. Usually I keep it to about 5-10 above. But it also depends on what streets I’m on.

what terrifies you? Failing at working a career job or living a miserable life or being alone forever with no one to take care of me when I’m sick.

look to your left, what do you see? my purse on the floor next to my dresser

what chore do you hate the most? scrubbing my shower/bathtub.

what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? steve the animal guy or liam and chris hemsworth or KJ Apa or Rebel Wilson. Or the other day when I was talking to my nanny kiddos about accents and the girl and I could do decent-ish british accents but absolutely failed at an Aussie accent

what’s your favorite soda? root beer

do you go in fast food places or just hit the drive thru? depends on the day or sometimes the line of cars in the drive thru

what’s your favorite number? 4. idky but I’ve always thought of it as my lucky number. Plus I just like it. It’s even. It’s small. 2 + 2 = 4 and 2 x 2 = 4.

who’s the last person you talked to? my brother when I was yelling bye to him.

favorite cut of beef? yeah i really don’t know or care

last song you listened to? We by Yesung

last book you read? honestly can’t even tell you.

can you say the alphabet backwards? YES I CAN AND I’M VERY PROUD ABOUT THIS

favorite day of the week? mmm..... saturday because I usually see my friends on saturday and also refuse to do homework on saturdays.

how do you like your coffee? with a big scoop of hot chocolate powder and quite a bit of half and half. sometimes I forego the chocolate powder but my preference is to have it. 

favorite pair of shoes? oooh..... I love my shoes. I have so many that I like. um... okay I’m gonna say it’s this one pair of brown heels I have. They look kinda like leather, orangey-brown, 4in tall heel, and they’re almost like ankle boots because the material goes to just below my ankle. They look amazing with skinny jeans.

time you normally get up? mm..... somewhere between 8 and 9 I guess if I wake up naturally. But I have to get up at 6:15 for work and 7am on days when I have church bc I’m head of nursery (but church is at 10am and online cuz quarantine)

sunrise or sunsets? hm.... I guess sunset bc it sets behind the mountains and it’s gorgeous.

how many blankets on your bed? rn 1 really light one cuz summer’s basically here.

describe your kitchen plates? white with a red and grey design on them with a red border on the edge

describe your kitchen at the moment? currently a mess bc things are being moved around and sorted and everything is everywhere. Other than that, it’s got a sink, fridge, oven, dishwasher, you know, the uszh. 

do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? mm.... right now I guess my go to is a moscato wine. I think that’s my favorite thing right now. You can call me a wimp but hey it’s a step up from Mike’s hard mango punch. I also really like mules.

do you play cards? yes.

what color is your car? silver. and it annoys me bc it looks like every other unimpressionable unremarkable unmemorable car out there :p

can you change a tire? .............................................no.

your favorite state/province/county/etc.? MINE

favorite job you’ve had? my babysitting job for a neighborhood family. I’ve been babysitting them for about 7 years now and I have been with them for two of their kids’ births and I’ve gotten to watch them grow up and develop personalities and learn about life and it has been such a fun experience and blessing to me.

how did you get your biggest scar? okay so I don’t know about biggest, but the one that I’ve probably had the longest and is still clearly visible is one that’s on my foot. It’s about a cm long and is about an inch or so in from the base of my second toe on my right foot. I got it when I was... I think a sophomore in high school when my family visited my bro and sis-in-law out of state for Thanksgiving. I went to grab a bottle of sparkling apple cider out of the fridge but, in the process of grabbing it or moving something aside or something, the bottle of sparkling cider fell out of the fridge onto the tile floor right next to my foot and SHATTERED. I was frozen in shock. Didn’t know what to do. Felt embarrassed and felt bad about the broken bottle and mess. I didn’t even realize until my mom and sis-in-law were cleaning up the floor around me that there was a small shard of glass somewhat embedded in my foot. I don’t remember feeling any pain from it. I think I was probably still in shock. But I still have the scar. 

Tagging: I don’t really know and I’m tired so ANYONE WHO WANTS TO 😊

[noussommeslessquelettes]

I'm a sucker for number 12 if you fancy giving it a go?

bro honestly me too? It’s kinda funny bc the next chapter of Left as in Gone has this trope too! So part of me was like “do I even gotta write another thing?” but then of COURSE the answer was “absolutely u do” so yes here have a this thing.

Thanks for your patience; I hope you enjoy!

Preview: “So you’re not going to tell him?”

“I…” Lance’s voice lowered to a murmur. “You’re sure he’s asleep?”

Pidge hummed assent. “He could sleep through the apocalypse, honest.”

“So?” Hunk prompted.

Send me a ship with one of these and I’ll write a mini fic

Full disclosure, Keith had actually woken up about fifteen minutes ago. B-list action movies were the worst genre of film, as far as falling asleep in the middle of them went, and all it had taken was one (of several, he’d gleaned over the last quarter hour) car explosion too many to jolt him begrudgingly out of his slumber.

Still, he’d learned many years ago that if you fell asleep at the end of a movie, people usually didn’t expect you to help clean up after. And though the trick no longer worked with movie nights at home—not since Adam had moved in—it had worked like a charm with his new friends over the past few months. As the end credits rolled before his closed eyelids, the couch beneath him creaked under someone standing up with a yawn.

“Let’s draw a dick on his face,” Pidge muttered.

Never mind, Keith groaned internally, lamenting the loss of his sloth for the sake of his pride. He drew in a breath—

“Don’t.”

And let it go. It was almost a task to keep his slack expression from adopting a furrowed brow, because that was definitely—

“Just let him be.” The scrape of a plastic bowl on a wooden coffee table played harmony to Lance’s continued argument, the creak of the floorboards his percussion. “He deals with enough torture from us already.”

Hunk scoffed from his place on the recliner, the silence of a nonverbal communication hanging in the air before Lance’s footfalls echoed back into the room.

Lance clicked his tongue. “The things I do for him—and he’s never going to know,” he muttered.

“Probably ‘cause of how you act when he’s awake,” Hunk pointed out, the sharp click of the recliner locking back upright following suit.

“Yeah, well—” another wordless gesture, probably “—okay? I’m dealing with it the best I can.”

Keith almost rolled his eyes, figuring the vaguery was about as much reasoning as Lance could have for the continued tension between the two of them, despite Lance denouncing their purported (A.K.A. fabricated) rivalry some few weeks ago.

Until Pidge’s response, that is.

“So you’re not going to tell him?”

“I…” Lance’s voice lowered to a murmur. “You’re sure he’s asleep?”

He felt a scrutinous gaze against his skin, and he did his best to sell the slump in his body (the tension it gave him likely not helping his case, but it must’ve been enough for Pidge.)

She hummed assent. “He could sleep through the apocalypse, honest.”

“So?” Hunk prompted.

Lance sighed. “‘Course not.”

Keith bit his tongue. Could these assholes start being more specific? Or at least have the decency to leave the room so he could pretend to wake up without embroiling himself in this secret that he can’t even understand anyway?

Hunk gave a low whistle. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Does this mean loverboy Lance has hung up his bow and arrow?”

Keith’s heart kicked in his chest. Wait, loverboy? Did she mean…

“You said it yourself: it’d only freak him out if he knew—and I’m not going to do that to the group. ‘Sides, Keith needs us: his only other friends are his dog and brother-in-law, and Adam only counts on good days.” He laughed, but the others didn’t seem as eager to join in.

Hunk gave an uneasy sound. “I don’t know if Keith—”

“He would. Trust me—Pidge?”

“I…” She sighed. “I won’t say I’ve run the numbers, but it’s not exactly promising.”

“It’s not worth it,” Lance concluded. “Even if he’d stay, what’s the point? It’s not like I have a chance anyway.”

“Lance—”

“You’re going to tell me I’m a catch?” Lance interrupted, then laughed. “Please do; I need to hear it.”

Hunk joined in with a chuckle of his own. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend, I’d date you in a heartbeat.”

Lance’s hand thumped against his chest. “A man after my own heart. Pidge?”

She scoffed. “If I had to date anyone, I think you’d be one of the least offensive options out there.”

Empty beer bottles clinked against each other. “Oh, it’s an honour just to be nominated!”

“Y’need any help, bud?” Hunk called out after his retreating steps.

“Nah, you guys can head home; I got the rest of it.”

Hunk lowered his voice, clearly addressing Pidge. “Draw straws on who’s got to wake him up?”

“Just let him sleep,” Lance answered, his voice floating over the back of the couch now. “I’ll drive him home when he wakes up.”

“Ooh,” Pidge cooed, “want him all to yourself, do you?”

“Don’t want us to know how long you’re going to watch him sleep?”

“You—” Lance groaned. “I thought we were being nice to Lance tonight!”

“We were,” Pidge argued. “Hunk, we were nice, weren’t we?”

“Super nice,” Hunk agreed, “so now we get to be mean.”

“Ugh, you guys are the worst.” The couch complained as he pushed off, their voices echoing towards the front door. “Why do I tell you anything, again?”

“‘Cause we already know all of your other secrets,” Pidge replied. “You’re forced to trust us now.”

Lance sucked on his teeth. “Yeah, can’t have that shit leaked to the press.” The front door was wrenched open. “Love you, assholes.”

Hunk and Pidge’s goodbyes were a bit too quiet for Keith to discern, but soon after they were spoken, the front door slid shut, and Keith was insulated in the soft bubble of silence of Lance’s living room. He held his breath for Lance to step out of sightline long enough so he could feign rousing, practically celebrating when Lance’s footsteps led him back to the living room, hoping they’d keep on going to the kitchen.

The echo stilled, just as he reached the foot of the couch.

“Of course, you have to look adorable when you sleep, too,” he practically spat under his breath. Then he heaved a sigh, and continued to the kitchen.

The moment the sound transferred from hardwood to tile, Keith pushed himself up to sit. His stiff muscles complained, and he rolled out his shoulders as his eyes cracked open, taking in the gentle lamplight and distant kitchen light with squinted eyes. He yawned, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his fingers into his eyelids.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Keith drew in his first full breath, turning to look over his shoulder as Lance walked back in from the kitchen. “Mm.” He cleared his throat, his voice still heavy with the sleep he hadn’t feigned earlier. He scanned the living room then as Lance passed the couch, picking up a couple empty soda cans from the coffee table. He remembered himself a little, and decided to ask, “Where’s Hunk and Pidge?”

He swore he saw Lance freeze for a split-second when he asked it, saw a tension in his shoulders dissipate when he looked Keith in the eye again. He gave an apologetic smile. “Yeah, Pidge didn’t want to wait ‘til you got up to drive you home.”

Keith almost felt uneasy under Lance’s gaze—his attention undivided in the low light, his expression soft and open, dare Keith even say fond. He had no business looking at him like that, not when Keith had just woken up, and probably had bedhead or—shit, did he? He ducked and smoothed his hair down with his hands, hoping it looked as casual as he’d envisioned it in his mind’s eye.

“Well, shit.”

“I know,” Lance laughed, leaning a hip against the far armrest, “typical Pidge, am I right? But I can drive you home, if you want.”

Keith chewed on his tongue. Should I tell him?

“Lance, listen.”

It would be easy. Keith wasn’t a good actor, anyway—and Shiro always said honesty was the best policy, especially with people you cared about.

“I heard what you guys were talking about before, and…”

And what? Keith didn’t have a good answer for him—he’d hardly believed Lance tolerated him as a friend, let alone adding the prospect of… other feelings.

“Keith?” He blinked, eyes refocusing and lifting back up to match Lance’s. Lance chuckled. “Thought you fell asleep on me again.”

“No, I…” He was far too tired to think this over properly, right now. And a ride home sounded much nicer than a half-hour walk in the cold. “Thanks.”

Lance gave him a smile that made his insides flip. “Cool. I’ll just—” He pushed off the couch. “—Let me chuck these in the kitchen, and we can go.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t fall asleep on me again, ‘kay?” He called back from the other room.

Keith rolled his eyes, pushing up to stand. “I can manage.”

Lance hummed uncertainly. “You sure? You were completely out of it during the movie—snoring and the whole bit.”

Keith froze mid-stretch, dropping his hands with an indignant pout. “I did not snore.”

“Did too.”

“I don’t snore!”

Lance rounded back into sight, waving his keys in front of him. “And somehow I heard it with my own ears. Funny how that works.”

He winked at Keith in passing, and Keith’s stomach flipped. He gave a quiet groan, hoping that reaction wouldn’t become the norm, in the wake of this unfortunate revelation—Lance was the one with the crush, after all.

Right?

He twisted his neck until it gave a satisfying pop, then smirked when Lance inevitably vocalised his disgust at it.

[simonxriley]

100 for Liz and Price! I can see Liz whining for a sandswitch when shes (not feeling well, with child, ect.) And Price finally giving in but its like 3 in the morning and thats why he didnt want to at first bc he has work and he was salty AF about her getting to stay home while he goes out (but only bc he was tired and he didnt wanna leave her)

*Rubs hands together* There’s a few ways I could’ve gone about this prompt but I decided to go to when Liz was pregnant because she craved a lot of food during that time and they were bickering idiots too. I pretty much took your idea of having Liz make Price leave the house for the sandwich, but I did change it up a bit. This is also more dialogue heavy but I do hope you enjoy this

Drabble Challenge!

Prompt: “You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

Besides the constant feeling of discomfort, the mood swings and the weird cravings, Liz’s pregnancy was going swell. The baby was healthy, she was healthy and that’s the most she could ask for. Well maybe actually giving birth since she was eight months along and felt like she was carrying a watermelon, she just wanted him out at this point.

Since she was so far into her pregnancy, her days consisted of sitting, a lot of sitting and getting ready for their soon to be new arrival. Price still worked, but he was taking his paternal leave in a few weeks so he would be there for the birth knowing full well that Liz would have murdered him if he was to miss it because of work. And he wasn’t going back until she was all healed up.

Liz was happy that he wanted to keep working so she could become a stay-at-home mom, but she missed him when he was gone. It was just her, in their little home in Hereford until he comes home late at night. She couldn’t wait until their son was born so he would home a little bit more.

As the day wound down and after getting a few things done in the nursery she decided to watch a movie on the couch until Price came home.

The movie she was watching bore her, but there wasn’t anything else on and she wasn’t about to get up to look through the movies they had. So to pass the time she was trying to catch the popcorn she was eating in her mouth. Luckily it wasn’t long before Price walked into the house.

“Oh thank god you’re home.” She sat up a little more, placing the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and smiled over at him. “I’ve been so bored.”

He walked over to the couch and sat down with a heavy sigh, his hand coming up to rest on her, hopefully done growing swell of a stomach. A small smile forming on his face as his thumb caressed her stomach.

“I’ve missed you too Liz.” He leaned over to give her a chaste kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“I want this child out of me John, I’m so uncomfortable nowadays.” She moved back so her back was against the couch, adjusting to find a comfortable position. “Other than that it was good. I finally hung up those pictures in the nursery and organized his clothes a little bit more. How was work?”

Price narrowed his eyes at her, and he let out another sigh. “You know I didn’t want you to do that, I was going to put the pictures up. I didn’t want you straining yourself Liz, you’re the one pregnant here.”

“John it wasn’t an issue, you already put the nails in the wall I just put the pictures on the nails.” She chuckled and covered the hand that was still resting on her stomach with her own. “I do appreciate you being so concerned though.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He sat up a little straighter, angling his body more towards her.

The small smile on her face slightly faded as she gazed into his eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just you’ve become a little too overprotective. You’ve barely let me do anything during this pregnancy, I know my body and I know my limits.”

“Is it a bad thing I want to do all the heavy lifting? You’re carrying our child Liz, the only child we’ll probably have. I don’t want you getting stressed because you’re too far along to do something.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She sighed. “I’m talking about you freaking out when I’m on my feet for more than five minutes. Look I don’t want to argue, this pregnancy is almost over with and I am happy you are this concerned. Sometimes you can get a little overbearing.”

“No argument there.” He moved his arm around her shoulders, letting her snuggle up against him. “You can’t fully blame me for that, I’ve never dealt with this before.”

She looked up at him through hooded eyes and narrowed her brows. “Neither have I. You just got paranoid after reading all those baby books.” She laughed. “Which is pretty cute. It’s more endearing that you want this as bad, if you didn't, I don’t think you would be so paranoid.”

“I didn’t know there were so many complications during a pregnancy.” He removed his arm from her shoulders to get a better look at her. “I never knew I wanted it until it happened. It’s going to be a lot different from training soldiers, I am looking forward to this fatherhood thing.”

“It’s a good thing you weren’t firing blanks then.”

Price rolled his eyes and stood up, heading for the kitchen and all Liz could do was laugh.

                                                           xXx

It was the middle of the night and Liz couldn’t sleep, her back hurt and it didn’t help that the little one decided it was the perfect time to kick at her ribs and she was craving a sandwich.

She groaned and set her book aside, reaching out to touch Price’s arm. “John?”

He stirred in his sleep, cracking open an eye. “Yeah?”

She gave him a sheepish grin, fiddling with her hands. “Can you get me a sandwich?”

He opened both of his eyes to glance over at the clock, reading it was three in the morning and sighed. “It’s three in the morning, I have work soon, can’t it wait?”

“No.”

“Can’t you get it?”

“It’s hard enough for me to get in and out of bed as it is and I’m not gonna drive down at three in the morning heavily pregnant.” She pouted her bottom lip at him. “Please?”

“I’m sorry but no, you’re just gonna have to wait.”

Price laid back down, fixing the covers around him. It made Liz sighed through her nose at how inconsiderate he was being. Yes she knew he had work soon, bit he can easily get up, go down stairs to make the sandwich and come back up a lot faster than she could. Being eight months pregnant wasn’t easy.

“But your son wants a sandwich too.”

“No he doesn’t. Go to sleep Liz, you’ll forget about the sandwich in a few minutes.”

“I’ve been craving this sandwich for two hours now, I don’t think it’ll go away anytime soon. And I can’t sleep, your son is kicking my ribs.”

He sat up, cupping her stomach with both hands and leaned down. “Hey stop kicking at your mother’s ribs so she can sleep and stop bugging me about that sandwich she wants, please.”

“I wouldn’t be craving this sandwich if I wasn’t eight months pregnant you know?” She arched a brow, taunting him. “And to think I was so nice as to let you cum in me to begin with.” Price had an unamused look on his face and laid back down, closing his eyes. “Damn I thought that would work.”

“Liz just please try and get some sleep.”

“Not until you get me a sandwich.”

“I’m not going to get you a sandwich at three in the bloody morning.”

“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

He threw the covers off of him and got up throwing his arms in the air. “Fine, fine I’ll get you your sandwich.” He grabbed a shirt from his drawer and a pair of pants and put them on, sitting back down on the bed to put his boots on. “I’m sure you want your usual?”

“Yes please.”

Price sighed and tied up his boots before standing back up. “I’ll be back in ten.”

                                                            xXx

Liz went back to reading her book while she waited, the little one still kicking up a storm. He must really want that sandwich as well, she couldn’t blame him, it was delicious. Simple, but delicious.

She heard the door close making her ears perk up. She put her book back down on the nightstand, sitting up more eagerly. A moment later Price walked back into their room with the bag in one hand and a coffee in another.

“Here you go.” He handed her the bag and sat down with a groan, taking a sip of his coffee.

Liz opened the bag and took out the sandwich, quickly glancing over at him. She felt kinda bad for having him go out at this time, but some cravings are worse than others. She moved her sandwich to the side and scooted over to him, placing a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at her.

“Thank you!” She leaned forward until their lips met, a small hum being heard from Price’s throat. A moment later she pulled away, a small smile spreading across both of their faces. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with these last few months and I appreciate everything you do for me, for us.”

She ran a hand over her swell and smiled down at it, feeling him kick even more.

He placed his coffee on the nightstand, then placed both of his hands on each side of her belly - a small smile forming on his face. “Yeah you can be a pain from time to time. I was an asshole, not wanting to get up to get you something you were craving knowing moving around can be difficult.” He looked up at her, locking eyes. “I would do a lot for you Liz, for both of you! And I am quite happy I wasn’t firing blanks.”

Liz laughed and grabbed her sandwich, placing it in front of her and opened it. “Now about baby number two.” Price nearly choked on his coffee, turning to her with a shocked expression on his face. “What? You think we’re just gonna have one? No, we need a little girl after this and then we’ll be the perfect little family.”

He shook his head but still had a small smile on his face. “How about we talk about it in a few years?”

“If you say so mister I don’t like to pull out.” She took a bite of her sandwich, moaning in satisfaction and arched a brow at him in a taunting manner.

“You should be nicer to the man who made you a mom.”

“And you should be nicer to the woman who made you a dad.”

Price laughed and shook his head. “Cheeky.”

She gave him a cheeky grin that made him chuckle. “Only for you babe, only for you!”

[printscript]

JoJo Shorts pt. 2

Pairing: Josuyasu Words: 1497 Rating: T AU: None Warning: Minor language Summary: Josuke is the biggest drama queen you’ll ever meet. A/N: I was fully planning to go more from Josuke's point of view bc I like writing for him, but it slipped into Oku and stayed there so here you have it. Also, Tomoko is underrated and writing for her is actually a lot of fun.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227726

Tomoko Higashikata was a generally put-together woman. Her childhood was average, she grew up, had a few jobs, dated a few people. She was usually short to temper unless aggravated, but her entire life had changed once she had a child. Yes, it had been 16 years dealing with said child, and yes, they sometimes had a falling out once in a while- as teenage sons have with their mothers.

But this time, her son was being a drama queen. Nothing new, surely, but it was grouped with raw rebellion and utter asshole.

“JOSUKE OPEN THE DOOR-” Tomoko pounded the wood with her fist, jiggling the doorknob but knowing that it wouldn’t do anything. When Josuke wanted to be alone, there was nothing you could do about it.

Josuke began to sputter words though muffled sobs, something about how he didn’t deserve to ever speak to anyone ever again; he probably had his face in a pillow.

It made Tomoko sigh the deepest sigh she could muster and rub her temples with her fingertips. “Josuke, you are going to be late again, please get up.”

Her son just wailed. “Mom, you couldn’t understand, my life RUINED! I’m never going out again, I’ll die.”

“Josuke, you have to be kidding me right now, I have to get to work. If this is about your fucking hair, I think I’ll have an aneurysm.”

There was no response from Josuke, which meant that it was definitely about his hair.

“If you don’t go to school today, I’m gonna beat your ass, Josuke!”

“It’s better than letting anyone see me like this, in such a horrible state, everything is going to shit, I deserve this.” Josuke groaned into his pillow.

Tomoko was at her wits’ end. At this point, there was no use in arguing with her melodramatic teenage son, so she decided that she would just go to work and deal with him later. Yep, she had to deal with him later. For her own health. She made her way down the hall and downstairs, grabbed a light jacket, and moved to open the front door. She opened it to Josuke’s friend, Okuyasu, probably here to take him to school.

“Hi, Ms. Higashikata, is Josuke home?”

What a nice boy. So much nicer than Mr. my-hair’s-ruined-so-my-whole-life-is-too, who was sitting upstairs whining. Tomoko sighed, attempting not to sound too distressed.

“The idiot is in his room sulking about his hair.” She said. “I have to get to work, but if you could get him to leave the house, it would save a lot of stress, thanks, dear.”

“Sure thing,” Okuyasu said, hand on the back of his neck before he slipped into the door and into the kitchen. The front door closed behind him before he heard the car start up and pull out.

Josuke’s house was nice. That was one of the reasons Okuyasu liked to come here so often, also because his own home held so many bad memories for him, but this house only held good ones. It made him smile. He focused on the railing of the stairs as he walked up them, then went up to Josuke’s door, knocking lightly.

“Mom, I already told you, no one can see me like this!” Josuke groaned.

Okuyasu laughed, “Bro, it’s just me. Can I come in?”

There was a choking sound from inside Josuke’s room, the click of the door unlocking after a moment, then the patter of socked feet running back towards the bed. The blanket was settling over Josuke’s back by the time Okuyasu could open the door and peer in.

“Ah, come on, bro, you can’t look that bad, right? Your hair always looks so cool, no matter what you do to it.”

“Thanks, dude, but not even Crazy D could fix this one.” Came Josuke’s muffled voice from the comforter.

Okuyasu had walked across the room and sat at the foot of Josuke’s bed at this point. Josuke always looked amazing. He was just that kind of guy. You know, the guy who takes his physical appearance really seriously. Like the dude probably has more skin and hair products than Okuyasu could count.

When Okuyasu forgot to reply, Josuke spoke up again.

“Promise you won’t laugh, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

Josuke sighed before he sat up, letting the plush blanket fall from his shoulders.

The first thing Okuyasu looked at was not his hair. He was drawn to Josuke’s long eyelashes and the overemotional tears in the corners of his eyes that just made them look bluer. He looked at his best friend’s mouth, and how Josuke’s right canine sunk into the skin of his bottom lip as he bit it in nervousness. He looked at his jawline, the way the muscles in his face rippled when he swallowed and at the hole in his earlobe where he earring usually was. Okay, now he was spacing out. Josuke was so pretty it made him feel a little too warm. Okuyasu had to stop himself from reaching his hand out to move the stray strand of hair that was blocking his view of Josuke’s other eye.

His hair... it wasn’t funny or ugly or ruined at all. Josuke was crazy. It was down, out of its pomp, framing Josuke’s face and brushing his cheeks. Sure, it stuck up a little in a few places, and it looked a little damp from when Josuke may have attempted to fix it earlier, but it was just a little bedhead. Not funny at all. Cute, if anything.

“I accidentally fell asleep when my hair was still air-drying, and so, of course, it had to go and get all smushed from sleeping on it, but now it’s just not going back to where it’s s’posed to be and since it was wet and had a little product in it to keep it up in the morning but didn’t realize it was my last bottle, now it’s gonna be sticking up all day, and I can’t let anyone see me like this because I’d die on the spot if my hair wasn’t perfect and how it’s s’posed to be, ya know? It’s like my signature thing, I just-”

“Dude.”

Josuke stopped the flailing and rambling he was doing to look at Okuyasu, his rant turning into an incoherent babble until he fell quiet, putting his hands on the bed between his crossed legs and looking a little embarrassed.

Okuyasu was suddenly lost for any words that could even tell him that it didn’t matter at all. What was he supposed to say, ‘your bedhead looks kinda hot?’ No. He’d get smacked, probably. Or at least he’d weird-out Josuke and they’d stop being friends forever, he couldn’t-

“W-what did you say?” Josuke was red, his eyes as wide as saucers, fully gnawing on his lip now, looking like he was trying not to scream, or faint, or both.

Shit. Okuyasu could have sworn he hadn’t said that aloud, but maybe he had, he sometimes forgot to filter his thoughts.

“I said your bedhead looks kinda hot.”

That sent Josuke mentally reeling, at least it looked like it because he had one hand over his eyes and one dragging through his hair to try and fix it again. His ears were red and he was mumbling again.

Okuyasu had failed a second time to keep himself from saying something stupid, and he thought he really should just leave the room before he made Josuke die right there and then.

Instead, his legs made him stand up and move in front of Josuke. He reached in his pocket and produced a rubber band. These were special rubber bands for hair apparently. Yukako would give him these when he kept dropping his pencils so he could group them all together. She always had a few of them on her wrists and Okuyasu just sorta forgot to give them back. But before he could stop himself, he had his hands buried in Josuke’s hair and pushing it back into a half ponytail. It was a little sloppy; Okuyasu was no hair stylist, he only slicked his own hair back every day, but he thought he did a pretty good job even as Josuke stared up at him with a dumbfounded look on his face like Okuyasu had just kissed him or slapped him or something.

“You could just try a new look, Josuke.”

Josuke had already been patting his head, trying to figure out what his friend in front of him had done with his hair, and upon not being able to figure out how the ponytail looked from feeling it, got up and shuffled to the bathroom.

“I mean- it’s not really my style or anything, but like, I guess since you did it, and it’s not that bad, I’ll just keep it for now-” Josuke made excuses from the mirror.

Okuyasu sat back down on the bed and laughed a bit.

“Dude, you’re such a drama queen.”