#im proud of this piece over-all im just trying to get away from the plastic-y feel my 'cleaner' art tends to have

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

"Sick of doing shit and not getting paid for it / Sick of being told you just gotta wait for it / What am I waiting for?"

(The hair I drew him with is from @witcherscreenshotsdump 's mod)

[sunrisefairy]

Cameras and crushes

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Warning: Alcohol, small mention of death, pure fluffiness 

Summary: Y/N is used to being a background character someone you glaze over but never really notice. But more recently she longed for someone to see her, well she longed for a certain redhead to see her. 

A/N: Wrote this for @theweasleysredhair​​ writing challenge based off the prompt “You remembered?” very proud of this fic so i hope you love it as much as i do. All feedback is welcomed :))))

italics represent a flashback 

Taglist: send me a message if you would like to be added @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @georgeweasleyswhre​​

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Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. Growing up with 3 older and much louder brothers she was pretty happy with sticking to the sidelines, letting them be noisy and crazy while she kept to herself. Y/N grew up with mostly boys around her, her mother passed away when she was young. Y/N would always beg her brothers and her dad for stories of her mother, wanting to feel closer to her. Y/N’s dad would fondly retell memories of his beautiful wife, reminiscing on how witty and charismatic she was. He’d mention all the small, quirky things she would do which made him fall hard and fast for her. Y/N longed for that kind of love, she longed for someone to take notice of her in the way her dad did for her mum. Ever since Y/N was a little girl she yearned to be heard and seen but that proved difficult when you’re as shy and quiet as her.

Judging by most of the people in Y/N’s life she seemed to attract the boisterous types, guessing her quiet nature balanced them out. She loved her friends with her entire heart, even if their personalities were the opposite of hers, Y/N wouldn’t change their qualities if she could.

One of her friends, although still lively and vibrant as the others, also had a calm and tranquil side to him. George Weasley. Y/N had only known George for a few years having met at Lee Jordan’s 18th birthday 3 years ago. Somehow that night she had ended up climbing a tree with the tall redhead whom she had only met 30 minutes prior.

“How the hell did you get up to that branch?” Y/N mumbled, trying to figure out how to reach the higher branch where George Weasley was currently sitting, his long legs swinging back and forth as he chuckled at the girl below him.

“I used that branch sticking out there and then swung my leg up to get here.” George points to the branch to the girls left. 

Y/N grunts as she attempts what George said but huffs and pouts her lip feeling defeated, “you forget that I have little legs, unlike you Mr. giraffe.”

George rolls his eyes and stretches his hand out, “try again, I’ll help pull you up.”

Somehow, George manages to pull Y/N up and they sit comfortably next to one another up high in the tree. “There you go little bunny, don’t go falling off now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the nickname wishing she had brought her cider up with her feeling very self-conscious and unsure of what to do her shaking hands.

The pair fall into a comfortable silence, watching the party goers below them gathered around a very intoxicated birthday boy chanting as he chugs another beer, “we love to drink with Lee cause Lee is our mate and when we drink with Lee he gets it down in 8…7…”

Their voices drown out as George gently nudges Y/N’s shoulder pulling her attention back to him, “soo, Y/N I hear you’re not much of the talker?”

Y/N blushes hard grateful for the lack of light outside. “No I guess not. Not many are interested in what I have to say.”

George smiles, his eyes not leaving the girl beside him, “well I am. Tell me something.”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip nervously and looks back at the drunk crowd, “like what?”

George shrugs, he didn’t really mind what the conversation was about, he just wanted to hear the pretty girl speak. “I dunno, anything. Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

Y/N racks her brain for something to talk about, her palms getting sweaty from the long silence. Finally, she settles on something that always fills her with joy, her mother.

“Um okay so,” she starts staring at the leaves swaying in the tree, pushing down the anxiety. “Before my mother died she always had this film camera with her, my dad used to joke around saying that she loved this camera more than him,” Y/N chuckles quietly before continuing “She would take photos of the most random things, we have this big box back home filled with all the photos she ever took with that camera.” Y/N pauses, fumbling with her fingers. “I wish we still had the camera. You see after my mum passed, dad had to look after us 4 kids and with only one income coming in, it was pretty tough. For my 12th birthday I reeeaaally wanted a new bike, I’d complained for years that I couldn’t have my brothers old one because it was a gross boy’s bike. So, my dad sold my mums camera to get me a pink one. Kind of wish he didn’t because I would have loved to still have mum’s camera with us.”

Y/N finished and chewed her lip realising speaking about her dead mother probably wasn’t a great conversation piece, but any story of her mother always made her feel warm inside.

George hadn’t taken his eyes off her throughout the whole story, his heart fluttering when her eyes had lit up as she spoke about her mother.

“I’m sorry, probably not what you wanted to hear, it was the first thing that popped into my head.” Y/N mumbled.

George simply shook his head and replied, “you don’t ever have to apologise to me for saying what’s on your mind Y/N. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

For the first time in a while, Y/N felt seen.

Y/N’s phone dings and she pulls it from her pocket to read the message.

-Hey bunny :) so 4 tonight, we’re aiming to get to urs at like 7. does that work for u?

It was from George. Even if she didn’t have his number saved, she’d be able to tell it was from the redhead simply from his choice of nickname. Y/N hated when he called her bunny but George insisted on using the nickname ever since Lee’s 18th mainly because he thought it was cute not that he would tell her that.

Y/N’s heart thumped harder in her chest purely from the fact that George had texted her. Her crush on George had amplified over the years of knowing the boy, feeling both thankful and uneasy at the fact that he had so effortlessly slotted into their tight friendship group mainly because he was always around making Y/N a stuttering mess.

Y/N’s fingers fumble as she types out a response, it was her birthday today and all her friends we’re persistent in throwing her a party. They had agreed to a small gathering at Y/N’s place, Y/N didn’t want them to make such a fuss over it.

-Hey Georgie, 7 is perfect! Cant wait.

-See u then bunny, hope ur ready to get ur drink on ;)

-IDK, after the other weekend I dont think im ready to face alcohol again

-nope! no excuses from u, u only turn 21 once

Y/N chuckles at George’s message and goes back to tidying her house, ready for tonight.

~~~~

As soon as it hits 7pm her friends are barging through her front door lugging drinks.

Each of them greet Y/N giving her a hug and wishing her happy birthday.

“We’ll do presents later, first let’s get some drinks into us!” Angelina cheers as she starts to mix some deadly concoction. Alicia connects her phone to the speaker, the living room filling with music.

Y/N jumps as a voice pipes up from behind her, “happy birthday little bunny.”

She turns facing George as he places a brightly coloured wrapped box on the counter with the other presents. He opens his arms, engulfing her into a giant hug. Y/N wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze, “thanks” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away looking up at his warm eyes. They stare at each other for a second before the moment is broken when Fred places something on Y/N’s head.

“A birthday tiara for the birthday girl” Fred states loudly, Y/N glances at the mirror hanging from the wall on her left sees a plastic silver and pink tiara perched upon her head.

“Oh god,” Y/N mumbles adjusting it slightly.

Lee shouts over the music, drawing everyone’s attention over to him. “Okay everyone, the ever lovely Angie has made us each a questionable looking but delicious drink to start the night. So get your butts over here and let’s get this party started!”

A few hours and many, many drinks later, everyone is huddled in the living room, sitting on the couches watching Y/N open her presents. So far, she had gotten some perfume from Angelina, chocolates and a gorgeous photo frame from Alicia and Fred and Lee had gifted Y/N with a bottle of wine and voucher from the little boutique at the corner of her street. Y/N’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much and her heart swelled at the sweet gifts her friends had gotten her.

“Okay, only one left,” Alicia says, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Probably the best one,” Fred whispers to Lee.

“Of course it’s going to be the best one you idiot,” Angelina says as a matter of fact, overhearing the two boys.

George, who is sitting to Y/N’s right, hands over the brightly colour box, trying to hide his excitement and nerves. “Here you go Y/N, happy birthday.”

The box feels heavy in Y/N’s grasp as she places it in her lap tearing off the wrapping paper. Y/N glances around, noticing everyone’s eager eyes on her. She sees Angelina nudge Alicia’s side smiling at each other knowingly. Y/N furrow her brows, slightly confused then draws her attention back to the box. She ripped off the paper carefully and uncover a brown box, no hints as to what is inside.

“Oh my god, hurry up and open it the suspense is killing me!” Fred says impatiently, George whacks him across the head telling him to shut up.

Y/N take off the lid and immediately her mouth gapes open finally seeing what’s inside. She shakily lifts the film camera out of the box and hold it so gently as if it’s made of diamonds and gold.

Small tears prick in Y/N’s eyes, shocked and surprised at George’s gift, it looks exactly like the one her mother had.

She manages to squeak out a small, “you remembered?” referring to the first conversation they had 3 years prior.

George has a small smile etched onto his lips. “Of course I did, I remember everything you tell me. I take a lot of pride in knowing everything about you actually.” He says, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Yeah like what?” Y/N cradles the camera in her arms.

“Well,” George starts. “I know that you hate the smell tequila because it reminds you of your 18th when you spent most of the night by the toilet. I know that you can’t sleep if the room is dead quiet. I know that you love buying plants but can never seem to keep them alive. I know you never wear matching socks because you think it’s a fun way to spice up an outfit.” He finishes smugly.

Alicia and Angelina let out a small aww in the background reminding Y/N of the 4 other sets of eyes watching her and George right now.

“Well there’s one thing you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah? What’s that then?” George counters.

Y/N doesn’t know where she musters up the courage from to speak the next words, maybe from the alcohol buzzing through her body or finally being sick of keeping this to herself for the past 3 years. Whatever it may be, she’s rather proud of herself, ignoring the way her stomach churns.

“That I have a huge crush on you.”

She expected George to laugh in her face before rejecting her gently. What Y/N definitely didn’t expect was him to cradle her face in his large hands, pressing a sweet but passionate kiss to her pink lips. She squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, gripping onto his shirt tightly, scared he would slip away.

Much to Y/N’s dismay George pulls away from the kiss tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear, “no I knew that too.”

“Wha-how?” Y/N stutters.

The attention is pulled to Alicia as she begins to speak, “it wasn’t much of a secret babe. Everybody knew you were crushing on George. Can’t believe it took either one of you so long to do something about it.”

“Little Georgie here spent months trying to find that camera for you as a way to confess his undying love for you.” Fred reaches over and ruffles his twin’s hair who shoves him off.

“Yep, we were all so bloody excited for you to open his presents so you two can stop pining over each other.” Lee adds downing the rest of his drink then standing up. “Right, now the two love birds have finally confessed their feelings. Who’s up for a round of beer pong? Reigning champion here has yet to be defeated.”

“You’re on Jordan, that ego of yours has gotten large enough.” Fred challenges, everyone moving over to the table to set up for beer pong. Leaving Y/N and George alone on the couch.

George wraps his lanky arm around Y/N’s shoulder pulling her into his side, “I hope you’re enjoying your birthday bunny.”

Y/N grins widely, playing with her new camera before lifting it up and aiming it at George. “best birthday ever Georgie, thank you.” She squeezes the button down, snapping a picture of George who is staring at her like she’s the only person in the world.

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. But for once she doesn’t mind being the centre of someone’s undivided attention.

[honeypirate]

Looking Forward To It

In which pro hero Dynamight falls for his high school crush and personal suit designer and scientist, you, and asks you out.

Bakugou x reader (could be gn or fem but i didn’t edit it so i dont remember)

readers quirk works like welding but only works on metals, went to UA as a support student but took extra hero course classes so you could be a hero if any metal villians were to come along. Bakugou and you were friends after second year when you made him a really amazing support item and loved explosions as much as he does. you agreed with him that Lord Explosion Murder was an amazing hero name and that sealed your friendship forever.

Bakugou walks into the warehouse, a smile on his lips, he’s been looking forward to this meeting for several reasons, the biggest reason being you and the second being he is so excited to see what you have made. You were the student behind the design of his current hero suit and since you have grown up you became one the most well known designers and scientists. He has a small jar in his hand of his glycerin like liquid that you needed a little of, for a new idea, the meeting was just supposed to discuss your thoughts and share with him your ideas.

The warehouse was set up with a small office in the front, followed by a few meeting rooms, a public bathroom, and the biggest part being your “office” but it was more like just a work floor for you and your employees to have enough space. There was also an armored testing room and a room in the back where you could sleep that had a full bathroom with a shower.

“She’s in the back Dynamight you can go on in” your receptionist says with a smile and he thanks her before heading back into your office/work area.

As he is making his way back to you he hears a small ecplosion followed by your frustrated voice echoing down to him “Mother fucking bitch! God damn it all! That was not my plan! Mother hell!” he chuckles as he pushes the half cracked door open all the way “Y/N?” he says and you laugh, a sound that makes him smile and brings butterflies to his stomach, followed by your voice “back here!” he walks farther into the room, bast the many tall shelves lined with several different ingredients and different power tools all organized specifically by color, followed by several bins with different metals, he can see your back as you sit at a metal table, a few lights around you and smoke still in the air. As he gets closer he can see the tools around you, things that he didn't even recognize, tools you once told him you designed, and things that look like metal capsules. You hop off your stool and turn towards him “right on time!” you exclaim with a blinding smile that makes his heart skip, you throw your arms around his neck and he chuckles as he hugs you back. When you pull away you pull the dark goggles off the top of your head and set them down on the table. “You bring it?” he nods “of course! I’m excited to see what you have for me” he says and you squeal ''I am too!” you hold out your hand and he places the jar in it. 

You stand next to the table and he stands besides you, “watch this” you say with a smile as you put a metal dropper into the golden liquid in the small jar and get out .5 of an ounce before placing it into a small metal capsule, placing a special lid on and sealing the edge with your quirk. “This is kind of dumb becasue you wont use them very often if at all. But this topper makes it so this will explode on impact and then suck everything back to that space like an implosion. And this top” you hold up a different unconnected piece “is a timer. So its a real bomb!” you say excitedly and he chuckles, your happiness rubbing off on him. “That is really cool I must say. Even if i don't use it often it is a cool option to have” you grin “i'm glad you think so. I felt kind of dumb but i still wanted to try. Do you want to see this?” you hold up the capsule you just made and he laughs “of course!” you bounce on your toes in a little dance as you take off your leather apron and set it on the desk  “okay follow me!” he laughs and follows you out the door off the side of your office, into teating room you made specifically to test Bakugous support items. 

“Okay okay okay you know where to stand” he laughs, he loved your energy and your mind, he stood where you wanted him, behind a very thick piece of plastic so he could see into the other side of the room, you squeal again with glee and walk into the other side of the plastic, you kiss the little capsule and then toss it to the other side of the room, moving over quickly next to Bakugou as it sails through the air before it hits the other side of the wall and explodes before sucking everything back to the middle point of impact exactly like you hoped it would. “Yes!” you exclaim and raise your hands in the air, turning towards him and hopping up and down. “That was amazing y/n!” he laughs and you blush at the way he was looking at you. “I know it isn’t super practical but at the right time it would be fun to use!” you tuck your hair behind your ear and then gasp, bringing your hands out in front of you “I didn't realize i was so dirty” you chuckle, realizing some must be on your face but you didn’t really care. 

“Yeah just a little but that’s how i know you’re making super amazing things!” he gushes and then blushes, clearing his throat “you said you have something for me?” you beam at him “that’s right! Come with me it’s just inside” he follows you back to your office and you quickly run and grab a box from under your desk, “I know you are a huge fan of your black, green, and orange, color scheme. But I made some improvements to stitching and flexibility, with a better flame resistant formula that actually keeps you cool as you wear it. I also wanted to try a semi different color scheme so just tell me if you hate it and I'll make it just the same as your others. But i was thinking since it’s fall and going to be winter,” you pull out a new suit, identical to the last save a few details, the orange bands were thinner and lighter, and now they were a darker blood orange. The black was even more black, a higher percentage of light being lost than the other black (thank you stuart semple) and the green being a darker green as well, more foresty and less tree frog. “I thought the darker colors would look AMAZING when it snows and the orange is more fall. There are even several hidden pockets that make whatever is inside them indestructible, so your phone, wallet, whatever will be safe no matter what”  He takes the suit from you with a smile “y/n this is …. Perfect!” you laugh “really?!” he nods “i love the new colors it’s perfect for winter and i love the pockets. Im gonna go change in your bathroom” and before you can stop him he is off into your private bathroom in the back of the office. 

You hop on your stool and begin making more of the little capsules, just three more with the amount of his Nitroglycerin substance. You place them in the box and then work on some other personal project of something you were making for your moms birthday.

When he comes back he walks quietly since he was behind you “tell me what you think” he says and you grin, setting down your tools you turn around and gasp with a smile “it is so much better than i imagined. Is it too tight? How is the fabric? Is it itchy?” you hop off your stool and make your way over to him while you talk, reaching out and running your hands across his chest to feel how it fits, running your hands across the straps to make sure they fit him well, as he begins to speak you walk around to his back side “n-no it’s all great. R-really” you run your hands across the fabric on the back, the tank like top on his shoulders sat well, you stuck your fingers inside the fabric by his shoulders, pulling it back a little and running your fingers along the inside seam, down until you get to his armpits. 

What you didn’t know was how hard his heart was beating, you always got into the headspace of an inventor every time you gave him something new, not noticing the effect you had on him, how his heartbeat grows rapid and his hands get really sweaty, filling up his gauntlets. You never noticed how he blushed or how his voice stuttered through answers to the questions you ask. You check the way his belt fits on his hips and he gets goosebumps that you, you guessed it, didn’t even notice. 

“It looks so good. I'm so proud of myself!” you  giggle as you walk back to the box on your table, your back to him again now, he takes a deep breath and tries to calm his heart. “I have improved your gauntlets as well, the color and the weight, they can also hold double the amount now so since you wear them all day you won't waste any. Also here is a new head piece, it’s built in with bluetooth so you can connect it to your phone and it will perform voice commands, you can set the word that wakes it up through an app i made that i already emailed you.” he chuckles “always going above and beyond. That’s why you're my favorite” your heart skips and your cheeks flush as he comes over, swapping out his gauntlets and head piece for the new ones, he places his old gear in the box and smiles at you. “I’m glad I can make you happy yet again” you say and smile at him, thinking about all the other ways you wish you could make him happy 

Since you didn’t have anything else for him, it was time for him to leave. You hated this time because it always comes too soon, you walk him out to the door and your receptionist sends you an obvious look before she excuses herself to the bathroom. “So i’ll.. uh.. text you if i have anything new for you” you say with an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of your neck before placing your hands behind your back, rocking on your feet “sound’s good” he says with a smile and you heart skips again, your cheeks feel warm as you return his smile. “Okay then” you say and he goes to push the door open “I’ll see you around.” he pauses for a second and then turns back “do you wanna get dinner with me maybe? As a date?” he asks, rather quickly actually, all of it out in a rush, his nervousness showing. You gasp before chuckling softly “I’d love that” you say with a closed eye smile and he lets out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Okay. cool. I knew you’d say yes (he didn’t. He thought you were definitely going to say no). I’ll call you after work then” he says, a blush covering his cheeks, you beam at him and then say “I’ll be looking forward to it”

[meow-bebe]

stellatus

Pairing: Lee Felix x artist!reader

Genre: fluffffff

Warnings: literally nothing. this is so sweet asghk we’re channeling the cute here. like honestly not even my usual cussing

Word count: 3614 (!!!)

A/n: remember that idea I posted a while ago? well heres the fic! Im suuuper proud of this one because its the longest thing ive written for this blog (3k! more than 3k! that makes me so happy ahhhh!) and also I just really love it! usually I don't particularly like my own writing but this one I feel like is my best work. also about half way through writing this I found this amazing drawing by @panini-byanyothername​ which gave me the encouragement to finish this and also deserves all of the love because its an amazing piece of art! it was drawn based on another fanfic but its super pretty and is very close to what my story is about so I thought it would be appropriate to include a link

~~~

stēllātus; first/second-declension adjective starry, stellate, starred

“I have an idea,” you announced, bouncing with excitement as you ran into the room where Felix was currently sat at your desk on his computer. Latching your arms around Felix’s neck from behind, you rested your chin gently on his shoulder. 

“And what would that be?”he asked, spinning the office chair he sat in and successfully rotating within your arms. 

“I want to paint on you!” you said brightly as Felix’s hands came to rest on your waist as you snuggled closer, plopping down into his lap. 

“What?” Felix asked, slightly startled by your bold proposition. 

“I want to paint on you,” you repeated, “like, kind of use you as a human canvas?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and you grinned awkwardly, the incredulous tone of his voice making you shy. 

“I’m not opposed,” Felix mused, and you immediately brightened back up again. “Why though?”

“Well,” you said, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie, “first of all you’re the only person I have on hand at the moment.” You giggled, and Felix raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But I’ve always loved painting on skin. There’s some strange appeal that comes with turning another human being into art. Unfortunately, I’ve only ever done it on myself before, but I had this really amazing idea a while ago and have held onto it forever and you are absolutely perfect for it.” You finished by pressing a sweet kiss to his nose. “So?” you asked eagerly, “what do you say? Let me paint on you?”

Felix chuckled lightly, and you could feel the deep vibrations where your hands were set on his chest. “Aren’t you going to tell me what your amazing idea is?” 

“Nope!” you said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ as you smiled happily, “You’ll just have to say yes and see what I do. It will be beautiful, I promise.” 

Felix playfully narrowed his eyes at you. “You won’t do something stupid or make me look weird?”

“I would never,” you said, sticking out your littlest finger, “pinky swear. And anyway, nothing could ever make you look weird, pretty boy.” Felix’s eyes widened at your compliment, a light shade of red creeping across his cheeks as he wrapped his pinky around yours. No matter how often you complimented him he always had the sweetest flustered reactions. 

“What are we waiting for then?” you practically vaulted out of his lap, tangling your fingers together and tugging on his hand to try and get him to follow you. 

“What, now?” he asked, a bewildered look on his face.

“Yes, now,” you said, pulling on his hand again, “I can’t wait any longer, I’m dying to finally do this.”

“Alright,” Felix said, laughing as he stood up from the desk, whatever he was working on earlier abandoned as you enthusiastically pulled him along to the spare bedroom turned art studio. 

“Here,” you said, tossing one of the already paint-stained cushions you often put to use out of the closet, “sit down while I find what I need.” 

Felix grabbed the cushion and set it on the large, clear plastic mat you always kept set out over the hardwood floors. There were several places you had set up for painting, laying on the floor and the easel by the window being two of your favorites, and you rotated between them depending on how you were feeling that day. It seemed like today was a sprawled across the floor day, although that made sense, Felix reasoned, if you were going to be painting on him. He sat down and watched as you zipped back and forth across the room, picking through your jars of brushes and bins of paints to find the supplies you would be using. 

Thrusting one of the mason jar mugs you used to wash out your brushes at Felix, you asked, “Could you go fill this up with water for me?” He nodded compliantly, pulling himself up off the floor and traipsing across the hall to the bathroom to fill the glass mug with water. When he came back into the room, you had set up a jar of brushes to pick through, tossed a few tubes of paint to the floor next to the two cushions, and were currently spread across a decent portion of the floor with one of the large folders you had labeled as “inspiration and references.” These were collections of anything you could possibly want to give you ideas or utilize in your art, ranging from newspaper clippings, old photographs, passages from books and poems scrawled on torn notebook paper (or on the more rare occasion, printed out), and absolutely filled to the brim with doodles and practice drawings. You were a firm believer in the idea that anything could be reused or help inspire you in the future, which ultimately lead to your large collection. Usually you tried to date the bits of paper you tucked away, but it didn’t help with your chronic lack of organization. 

“What are you searching for?” Felix questioned, assuming that you wouldn’t answer but asking anyway. 

“Can’t tell,” you said, eyes twinkling with a spark of mischief, “it’s supposed to be a surprise, remember?” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking. What do you want me to do then?” he asked, looking around the room and wondering what you had planned for him. 

“Just sit, I’ll find it in a moment.” Felix settled himself back down on the floor as you continued to rifle through the folder barely containing the papers inside it. He watched as you carefully separated a few glossy photos that had stuck together and shuffled through a stack of what appeared to be old school work. “Aha!” you shouted victoriously, startling Felix and holding a few taped together pieces of paper in the air. 

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity over both the project itself and the haphazardly folded but carefully assembled papers in your grasp too much to handle. 

To his surprise, you gave in this time. “Star chart!” you chirped, obviously too pleased with yourself to continue hiding your intentions. “I’ve always loved space, specifically stars, and I took an astronomy class in high school but never got rid of the papers that weren’t just worksheets. I always hoped that someday I would be able to use them for painting. And here we are!” Felix smiled at the happy grin lighting up your whole face, your excitement too endearing to not acknowledge. 

“Cute.” Felix grinned happily as you shuffled over to where you had set up all of your supplies. All of a sudden his smile turned bashful, stammering slightly as he asked, “Should I like, take my shirt off or something then?” 

You giggled, setting down the star chart and plucking a thin marker from amongst the plethora of materials. “Not this time. I want to do your face!” 

“What?” Felix gasped, eyes widened in surprise. 

“I want to paint on your face!” you repeated, excitement fading as you rolled the marker between your hands, suddenly nervous. “Your freckles, specifically. Only if you’ll let me though.” You fidgeted slightly, focused on the marker before looking up at Felix who still wore a slightly startled expression. 

“My - my freckles?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“Yeah. Finding patterns that match my constellations-” you patted the papers sitting beside you - “and then turning your face into a little galaxy.” 

“Y/n,” he said softly, and you braced yourself to be turned down, “I think that’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever come up with. Why would I ever say no?” 

Your eyes shot up to find Felix’s, and you could see all of the adoration that he held for you in their depths. “Really?” you asked, pulling yourself into his lap and tucking your arms around his waist.

“Really,” he confirmed, sealing a gentle kiss against your mouth. “Now, how do you want to go about this?” 

You clamored off of Felix, grabbing the marker from where you had dropped it at his side and snatching the star chart into your hands before thrusting it at Felix. “Pick a few that you like, and I’ll see if what I can do to weave them out of your freckles,” you said, placing the folded chart into his hands and backing off to begin rifling through the paint tubes you had chosen. “Try not to do anything too difficult, I think the simpler ones would look better for this.” 

Leaving him to pour over the constellations, you realized that you had overlooked finding a palette earlier in your scramble to find paints, so you pulled yourself up off the floor to move to the closet once again. Shoving a few bins of paints and stacks of assorted canvases to the side, you finally found the collection of palettes stored near the back of the shelf. Just barely managing to get your finger under the one on the bottom (the shelf was slightly too high, not enough to really bother you, but it could be a minor inconvenience sometimes), you dragged the precariously balanced stack towards yourself. 

“What about Lyra?” Felix called from behind you. 

“That would work,” you mused, shuffling through the pile in search of one not too caked in dried paint. 

“Or Aquila?”

“Also fine,” you responded, selecting a mostly clean palette. “I really want to try Draco, so we’ll do that one first and then fit the others on after that. Sound good?” 

"Anything you want to do is good with me," he replied, and you turned to see the pretty blush staining his cheeks.

"But you're the one making this project come to life," you said, crossing the room in a few steps and settling down in front of him. "You should have some input."

"I'm merely the final product in this situation. You, y/n, are the one bringing it to life." Now it was your turn to grow flustered by his compliments. 

"Oh hush," you said, searching on the floor for the marker you had set down.

Finding your marker, you uncapped it and scooted closer to Felix. "Ready?" you asked.

He looked at the marker warily. "I thought you were painting."

"I am painting, but I have to sketch it out first," you laughed. "I always do."

"Oh," he said, looking down shyly. He always loved to watch you paint, however paying attention to the process was something else entirely. "Well go on then."

Studying his face carefully, you placed a small dot on top of a freckle close to the top of his cheek. Glancing back at the star chart, you drew another right under it, and awkwardly angled your pen to try and reach better. Pulling the papers mapping out your reference closer, you shuffled to the side and drew another dot.

"This isn't working very well," you said, taking Felix's chin in your hand and tilting his head to the side to try and reach better. "I might move you again, so try not to move and tell me if it's too uncomfortable."

Felix nodded in response just as you set the tip of the marker against his cheek, leaving a small inky streak down his face. You sighed. "Next time just say you heard me. I'm going to get the rubbing alcohol.” You stood up and headed to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and rummaging around to find the necessary bottle. Finding what you needed, you stood up and crossed the hallway once again to rejoin Felix.

"Here." Felix held out a cotton ball that he had no doubt found in the depths of one of your many bins of random art supplies.

"Thanks," you said quietly, already flipping the top of the rubbing alcohol open and soaking the cotton in liquid before scrubbing it gently across Felix's cheek. He held still for the moment, letting you remove the ink from his face and watching your movements carefully.

"Done?" he asked as you tossed the now somewhat grey cotton ball to the floor.

"Yep." you picked up your marker again. "Good to go?" He nodded again, this time making sure that the marker was nowhere near his skin.

You set back to work, switching between analyzing the star chart and making small dots where you could connect the freckles strewn across Felix's face to resemble the constellation you had picked.

After readjusting Felix's face for the nth time, you sighed. “This isn’t working,” you complained, capping your marker and letting your hand fall into your lap. 

“I can tell,” Felix mused. “Any ideas?”

You tilted your head, scanning over his face, and Felix could see the imaginary lightbulb pop up above your head as a grin spread across your face. “Maybe,” you said cheekily, crawling into his lap and once again uncapping your marker. Placing the non inky end into your mouth, you cupped your hands around Felix’s cheeks, gently moving his head around until you think you’ve found the perfect angle. “Don’t move.” 

Finding that your new vantage point gave you perfect access to the soft skin of your boyfriend’s cheeks, you steadily set back to work, sketching light lines between the makeshift “stars” that quickly began to fill the freckles dotted across Felix’s face. 

“Alright! I’m all done.” You leaned back a bit to admire your work, already extremely happy with the way that everything was turning out. “And now -” you clambered off Felix’s lap to let him stretch while you gathered the scattered supplies necessary for the next step of your project - “we paint!” 

Felix giggled at the enthusiasm spreading a happy brightness across your face, bringing you closer for a chaste kiss as soon as you had settled yourself back across him. Clasping the brush you had picked up between your teeth as you seemed prone to do, you grabbed two of the few tubes of paint selected from a small box of metallics Felix wasn’t aware you had and unscrewed the one containing silver paint. Squeezing a small amount onto the palette in your other hand, you replaced the cap and set it to the side. 

You pulled the paintbrush from your mouth, and said, “This is it. No going back after I start painting,” you warned, absolutely failing to hide the playful tone in your voice. 

“I have sharpie all over my face,” Felix laughed, “I’m pretty sure we reached that point a while ago.” 

“Right,” you said, ducking your face a little, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. “Well then, let the painting begin!” Placing a sweet kiss to the tip of Felix’s nose, you swirled your brush through the silver paint and hesitantly hovered over the inked lines connecting his freckles. 

“You’re not going to mess this up,” Felix reassured, almost as if he could immediately pick up on your thoughts, “anything you paint is always beautiful and I have complete confidence in you.” 

The compliments flustered you even more, and muttering a soft, “Oh, be quiet,” you set your brush down, dragging the bristles across the lines you had laid down earlier. 

Felix shuddered under the cool touch of paint stroked across his face, and you backed off for a moment, letting him adjust to the foreign feeling. “Try not to move,” you said, setting down your palette and cupping his jaw sweetly. 

You painted thin, careful lines over all of the drawn out constellations, painstakingly smoothing the edges and adding a second layer to those where the black ink was still visible. While you kept all of your focus on the paintbrush in your hand, Felix lost himself in the way that you concentrated on the task you had set yourself to. He loved to watch you paint, and the experience was ten times better when you were right up close. Felix watched your expressions as you immersed yourself in your work, noticing every little forehead scrunch, loving the cute way that you would chew on your lip or poke your tongue out when you got to a particularly tricky spot. There wasn’t enough focus left to be self conscious when you truly absorbed yourself in your art, and it was times like these that Felix thought you were most true to yourself, which lead to it also being when he found you most beautiful. Not that you weren’t other times, certainly, but there was something enchanting about your little expressions and the way your hair would stick up from running your fingers through it. You would always have paint all over your hands, no matter how careful you had been, and when it was still wet the pigment often transferred to your face or hair. Of course you never noticed, and so Felix would let you know you should probably look in a mirror, but only after silently appreciating the way that the smudged paint on your forehead somehow only enhanced the glow of beauty that truly being in your element brought out.

“There we go!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Felix out of his reverie. “I’m finished with the lines,” you told him, dropping your paintbrush into the cup of water and swishing it around a little. “Now I just have to do the stars.”

You leaned to the side and reached around Felix to grab the other tube of paint you had taken out and added some of the gold to the palette before screwing the cap back on and tossing it next to you. Balancing the palette on your knee, you grabbed the cup containing your brush and dragged it toward you. Quickly and thoroughly rinsing the paint from the bristles, you wiped off the excess water and took Felix’s face into your hand once again, gently maneuvering him back into a position where you could easily paint. 

Now used to the feeling, Felix didn’t startle when you began painting again, the cool touch of the paint to his cheek calming. You worked steadily, crossing tiny strokes to form the stars connecting the constellations created by his freckles. Every now and then you would shift in his lap, or make sure that the angle his head was at wasn’t making his neck ache, but for the most part you worked silent and still. 

You smoothed tiny lines into shapes, keeping them tidy and occasionally layering more paint on where it had smudged or the first coat had been too thin. After finishing one of the stars higher on his cheek, you leaned back to admire your work. 

“I think I’m done,” you said softly, wiping a bit of golden paint off Felix’s forehead. 

“Can I see?” he asked, plucking the paint brush out of your fingers and placing it in the paint water. 

You nodded, climbing out of his lap and gesturing towards the messy desk in the corner of the room. “There should be a mirror up there. I’m going to go get my Polaroid camera.” You loved that camera, it had been a gift from a friend years ago, and you only pulled it out for special occasions. Felix knew how much it meant to you, and the fact that you wanted to capture this moment with it warmed his heart. 

When you returned to the room, Felix was sitting back on the cushions you had pulled out, the small hand mirror next to him on the floor. “It’s beautiful, y/n,” he said, and you smiled at the compliment, whispering a quiet “Thanks.” 

“Where do you want me?” Felix asked, nodding towards the camera in your hands. 

“By the window, probably,” you said, “I think backlighting would look good for this.” It was reaching late afternoon now, and the sun was beginning to sink to the horizon quickly. The golden light would shine through his hair beautifully, and Felix always glowed in the sunlight. 

The two of you moved to the other side of the room, and Felix quickly set himself up in front of the window. 

“Should I pose or something?” Felix asked, and you shook your head in response. 

“Just do what feels natural,” you said, squinting at him through the viewfinder on your Polaroid before lowering it to watch him adjust for the photo. He seemed to relax under your gaze, and turned his head to the side so he was looking straight into the lens as the light washed over the paint trailed across his face, illuminating the shine of the metallics you used. He stilled after a moment, and after you were sure he wasn’t going to move, you pressed the shutter. The camera began printing your photo, and after a moment you plucked it from the slot, pressing it between your lips and bringing the camera back up to your eye. 

“I want to take one more,” you mumbled around the developing photo in your mouth, “close your eyes for me?” Felix complied, letting his lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks as a small smile settled across his face. You snapped your second photo, bringing the camera down and tucking the earlier in between your fingers as you waited for the second to print. Felix came to stand next to you, taking the second photo and looking over your shoulder to see how the first one turned out. 

As you watched the color seep onto the glossy paper you knew that the stars across his cheeks, no matter how pretty they were, could never compare to the stars that shone in his eyes. He was truly beautiful, and standing there with your camera in hand, his hair brushing against your cheek, you were never more aware.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

That Be Some Good Buttercream

Summary- Steve and Bucky get your help in replicating a howling commando days battle using Christmas baking fun. But... Does anything ever quite work out the way it should? Set in the same characters I used in Night In, Looking Pretty Fly and Popping Pez and Mismatched Socks. Written for @official-and-unstable-satan​ 300 Follower Celebration Challenge. She still has many prompts, check it out. Prompts in italiacs. No warnings, all fluffy. 

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- so proud of your accomplishments babes, you are an amazing writer and I love getting lost in your stories and listening to your ideas. I know your just gonna keep going up from here. Love you always babygirl 💚😈💚😈💚😈💚

“Bucky, they came around from the south end” 

“No they did not. I remember Steve, I was there.”

“Yea, and so was I” 

You and Sam had been listening to the two super soldiers carry on at the oversized table in the compounds kitchen dining area for a good hour before you readjusted the volume on the tv once more. Sam, half laying over half the couch remained scrolling on his phone, remarking. 

“Aint gonna do you no good, they just get louder.”

You sigh and hit the off button, he was right. Might as well go see what these two were up to anyways. Pushing yourself off the couch, Sam promptly stretched his legs out onto where you were sitting, making himself comfterable. “See you on the other side Kid!” He joked, settling into watching youtube. 

Wandering in, you saw the two men bent over  large map, Steve with pencil in hand drawing arrows to discern where they started from, stretching it across what looked like a military base. Bucky shook his head. 

“No no no, Punk, I wasnt up there, I was down here” 

“Bucky, I had you up on the highest point, it just looks weird on paper.” 

“You know what, this is pointless.” You could see Bucky getting aggitated with there project, pushing himself away from the table. “We need like... a 3D model to get this right.” 

Steve to straightened up, his arms folding as he looked down at the heavily marked paper. “Well... Tony does have some...” You interrupt in this time, moving over to the table and taking a peek at what they were doing. 

“You know, I have an idea of how to make you two a 3D model.” Both the men quirked brows, curious as to what you had in mind. "Givingerbread reanatcment.” 

You expected a rebuttal, a laugh, anything, since you were joking. But the two of them actually looked thoughtful, glancing at each other. “It would be easier then trying to draw it out” Steve mentioned. “And easier then trying to get Tony to set up the AI model for us.” 

“Plus we get some fucking cookies... Im in.” Bucky grinned, obviously pleased in the options of snacks. What started as a joke from you became a very serious matter as the two Soldiers dragged you into the kitchen. The two of them looking at you expectedly. 

“I was just joking guys, Im not making you a hydra replica gingerbread base. You know how much shit that would take.” At this point you backtracking a bit, wishing the words hadnt fallen out of your mouth so damn easily cause you thought is was funny. 

“Nonsense, you wont be doing all of it. Were going to help.” Steves already moving to wash his hands as Bucky is digging through a drawer and slipping on a god damn “Kiss the Cook” apron, he found in a drawer, ties it swiftly around his back and rolls up his sleeves. 

“You know you always wanted to boss us around Doll.” Bucky smirks, wiggling brows in a teasing manner. “You finally get your chance.” 

You look between the two men, the two of them nodding in encouragement, Steve composed as ever, waiting for You to explain how to start, and Bucky well he was opening drawers, pulling out random stuff that he thought you might use. He held up a spatula with a smirk, slapping the utinsel against his palm. “How about we get this train moving kids.” 

Relenting, you turn to your phone for a recipe. “Okay fine, since you all insist. We need flour, sugar, eggs, ginger, cinnamon....” While your listing, both men are scrambling to find everything, and piling it on the counter, yourself you bring out some bowls, cookie cutters, lets face it. You needed the actual men to decorate like howling commandos. Turning on the oven to get it preheated, you search for decorations. “Steve, store run? We gotta make this accurate you know, and Buckys all dressed up for a day baking. Hate to send him." You just kinda motion lver Buckys getup, the kiss the cook stretched over his chest, the apron a size to small for him really.

Your already grabbing paper and jotting down a detailed list of food coloring, frosting, candies and such. Steve snatched the list when you held it out, he had a general idea of it all and nodded. "Dont hesitate to put Bucky to work. He just pretends to be all intimidating."

You roll your eyes and back in the kitchen theres a "Steve your a dick" retort from Bucky whos looking over the mess of ingredients piled on the counter. Steve, seemingly joyful as he grabbed keys and left, you suspect you might not see him at least another hour or two. No worries, you had the other super soldier on hand.

Heading back in you hand Bucky a bowl and eggs. "Start cracking, separating yolk from white, and no shells." You cant help but from watching him, looking a bit like a lost child, before he he starts to crack eggs and inspect for shells. You watch from the corner of your eye as you put together the dry ingredients, and start mesuring out the molasses, talking him through the rest of the buttercream frosting ingredients.

Dipping your finger in his finished product, you lick the tip of your finger, smirking at his widened eyes. Yea Steve, hes very intimidating. You maybe took a bit to much pleasure in teasing Bucky on occasion. "Mmmhh my very favorite part.... "

He cleared his throat and looked away, it might be a bit mean, but he would give it back later, this was a dance the two of you played. "Okay, what now?" He said a bit gruff and you grab your rolling pin, holding it to him.

Eyeing it a moment, his brow arched. "Ya want me to roll the dough?"

"Yea Buck, nice and thin, since you two want to make all these outer buildings as well." Pointing to Steve's sketching, And you reached in the dough and piled it on the counter on front of Bucky. "And Steve said to put you to work."

"I notice you gave Steve the easy job." He muttered as he started to flatten the dough.

"I knew you were more capable."

Bucky couldn't hide the grin at the compliment, and afterwards you both measured, cut and got the cookie sheets in the oven. Stealing part of the couch back from Sam and watching trash tv till the oven beeped. Bucky vaulted over the couch, head back into the kitchen and pulled them out of the oven.

"Are they firm?" You ask, peeking at them, a light brush of your fingers against them. The room smelled like bake gingerbread and smooth sugar. Tempting delectables to say the least.

"Yup, now what?"

"Cool and mantle your buildings." You say as You slide them off onto wire racks. "Go get the frosting, and I will show you." Already he was rummaging in the fridge to retrieve it. Peeling off the plastic cling, you pick up one of the cooler pieces and edged it with icing. Folding two pieces together. "Easy as that. You try."

Bucky took it so seriously, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he piped that icing. His brows furrowed together in a dip right at the center. You bite back a grin and get a large dollop of icing on your finger and flick it at the man. Landing right in his face. He drops his cookie in surprise and blinks though the icing. "Fucken hell, Y/N! Whats that for?" Wiping it off, he flicks it back at you and you squeal getting hit.

That's war!

"Oh its on Barnes" smirking as you grab a cookie and crumble it, shooting it at him. Cookies fly, icing it flung, flour, and sugar is used to blind one another, you two ducked around the table, screaming and yelling insults playfully.

Bucky tried using the hose at the kitchen sink to spray you, in which you ducked and rolled right into him, the two of you collapsing in a heap on the floor among all your hard work, broken and scattered. Steve stood in the doorway, arms laden with two paper bags, his jaw hanging open at the mess. Bucky pokes you to get your attention and the two of you sit up, covered. Head to toe in frosting, flour and cookies.

"I was just gone an hour..."

"Its a long time to be left unsupervised." You shrug as you smear some frosting off your shirt and lick it off your finger, Bucky helped himself to your shirt frosting to since he had thrown half the bowl on you.

"Oh damn, thats good!" He grins.

"What about this is good?! You mean your gingerbread murder scene?!" Steve toed a dead gingerbread man with the tip of his shoe.

Bucky looked around and glared at his friend. "IT WAS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE" His voice raided to defend the mess and you promptly stuff a cookie in his mouth to shut him up.

"Come on Steve. Did the Hydra base not look like this after you two and the howling commandos were done?" You throw a cookie at him which bounced off his chest. "Eat a cookie, you feel better" next to you Bucky continued eating broken gingerbread men, grinning at his friend and nodding.

"Best damn cookies besides your mama's!" Bucky added between mouthfuls

"I just... Pick this up you two before tony throws a fit." Turning with the bags of candy he bought, passing Sam, he ditched them on the man still scrolling youtube

"You couldn't watch them for two seconds Sam?"

"And break up that little love fest? Puh-lease" Sam grinned at Steve and dug into the paper bags looking through the snacks, pulling out twizzlers.

"SCORE!"

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @kitkatd7 @stuckonjbbarnes @sebbbystaaan @kimisama1989 @simsadventures @that-damn-girl @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @stardancerluv​ @princess-evans-addict​

[gingerwritess]

"Person A is pregnant but finds out just before Person B has to gone on a six month long trip. When Person B returns Person A surprises them with their growing baby bump hilarity and confusion ensues" Maybe this one for Elliot and dad!Loki? have a great day sweetcheeks

combined with this request from @mylovelycrazyworld

summary: well…Elliot wanted a sibling. it’s about time he got one.

warnings: pregnancy stuff, a tiny hint of angst, missing Loki, fluff, and lots of Elliot silliness

a/n: FIRST OF ALL I AM SO PROUD OF THIS so i hope you e n j o y

sorry, second, i got waaay too carried away with this and suddenly its like a part of a wholeass story and yeah we’re gonna move this little storyline right along.

third i accidentally posted this before it was done a couple weeks ago so if you read it that time, i’m so sorry, this one is done and much better.

i’m also so sorry i’ve been gone lately. it’s been a crazy hectic last couple weeks so i haven’t had much time to sit down and finish writing anything! thanks for sticking around :)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Of course Loki had to leave this week, of all weeks.

Elliot’s taking the separation fairly well; Loki had left for Asgard with a kiss on the forehead, a tight hug, and a pretty serious request.

“You’ll take care of your mother for me while I’m away, won’t you?”

The little boy had promised, naturally, trying to look as serious and grown-up as he could, and even offered his hand to Loki for a handshake when he went in for a hug goodbye. Loki’s jaw had dropped in shock; then he pushed Elliot’s hand out of the way and swooped him up laughing into his arms for a tight, chaotic, firm hug.

So now you have a protective five year old fussing over you all day long, which is honestly worse than having a protective 1000+ year old fussing over you. He tries to do everything he sees Loki doing, everything he’s supposed to do to “take care of his mother:” like holding your hand in every possible situation, running up behind you and hugging the back of your legs, he’s even kissed your forehead at one point.

Loki’s trained him well.

But morning four of Loki being gone brings an unexpected turn. Elliot has been sleeping in your bed with you, wanting to keep you company—but mostly just missing the clone that Loki normally lets Elliot cuddle up with every night. This Tuesday morning, he’s laying across your stomach, happily sucking a thumb and drooling onto your shirt—well, technically it’s Loki’s.

It would’ve been nice to wake up and see his chubby little face all squished up with sleep, but you’re brutally shaken from your rest by a lurching stomach—you’re going to throw up, right now. You try to push Elliot off you as gently as you can, already retching as you shove him one last time, a little harder than you meant to, and he groggily sits up.

“Whasgoin’on?” He rubs the sleep from his eyes, but you’re already sprawled on the tiles in the adjacent bathroom floor, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. “Mom! No, mom, what’s wrong?!”

“S-stay—stay back,” you cough and wave him away just as before another retch doubles you over, chest heaving when it finally simmers down. “Just give me a second, okay? You don’t want to see this, bud.”

“But are you okay? You got really sick!” He rushes up behind you and starts rubbing your back with a cool little hand. “Ew, you smell kinda funny.”

“Gee, thanks, kiddo.”

“I’m just sayin’!” He holds his nose with one hand, using the other to wrap around your waist and lean into your side. “What does dad do to help you when you’re sick?”

You pull yourself up and over to lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath and running a hand through Elliot’s curls. “Uses his magic stuff to make me feel better…cuddles with me, just like you’re doing.” You smile weakly down at the little boy, and he quickly lays his little hands on your stomach. “No no no, don’t try it, it’s okay! I feel better!”

“Aw, man.” He sadly retracts his sparking hands—thank god—and nestles back into your side. “I’m getting gooder at my magic, ya know. Dad’s teachin’ me real good.”

“I don’t doubt it, Elliot,” you assure him with a light squeeze of a hug. “But you probably shouldn’t test out any of your magic on people, okay?”

He nods seriously, patting your stomach gently. “Good idea. I gotta be careful with your tummy now, too.”

“Don’t worry, buddy, this is just a bug. I’m already feeling better.”

Elliot shakes his head and crawls onto your lap, leaning down to put his ear to your stomach—what in the world? He listens for a moment and suddenly the wheels in your brain start turning: oh my god. This couldn’t mean…?

The little boy sits up again and feels your stomach one more time, focusing hard on something. “Nope, s’not a bug,” he smiles and gives your belly another gentle pat. “It’s just my baby tryna say hi.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Six pregnancy tests later, there’s no doubt about it. How Elliot figured it out before you even had a hunch, you have no idea, but the little piece of plastic drops from your hand when you flop face-first onto the bed, mind swirling.

This isn’t a surprise.

Elliot had asked. Loki and you had talked, agreed; this is what you want. But really, baby?

Now?

Loki doesn’t get back for another four months. Pregnancies are hard; you’re not going to pretend they aren’t, and to not have your husband here to help you through it…this is going to be much different than when you were pregnant with Elliot.

You glance once more at the last test: positive as ever.

Pregnant. Again.

Sighing audibly, you roll over on the bed and grab Loki’s pillow, hugging it to your chest and breathing deeply, eyes drifting shut.

“We’re gonna be fine,” you whisper, your voice serving more to soothe your own racing mind than anything, “we’re gonna have another baby, and we’re gonna be fine.”

You bury your face in the pillow, hugging it tighter. It smells like Loki—heavenly.

That’ll have to do for the next four months.

* * * *

“What does dad wanna name the baby?”

The plastic fork scrapes against Elliot’s plate in grating anticipation of your answer. He’s picking at his lunch; his appetite hasn’t been quite so bottomless with Loki having been gone for so long.

For yours, on the other hand, the exact opposite is true.

“Dad…doesn’t know yet.” You rip another chunk of bread from the entire baguette in your hand and dip it in butter. This baby seems to have an appetite for seven and a particular fondness for carbs.

Wonderful.

“That’s ok,” Elliot nods thoughtfully. “Names are hard to come up with. I think it should be…blueberry! Cause I love blueberries so much and I love my baby—”

“No, no, I meant…” you struggle to swallow your mouthful of bread and hold up a finger. “Dad doesn’t know that we’re having a baby yet.”

“Why not?”

…yeah, that’s a good question. You probably should’ve called Loki a good while ago, when you’d found out you’re expecting—I mean, it’s his kid too.

But telling Loki he’s going to have a second child just seems like something you don’t do over the phone.

“I don’t want to miss his reaction,” you answer honestly, shoving another chunk of baguette in your mouth. “I wanna sh-uprise ‘im when ‘e gets home.”

Translation: I’m terrified.

Elliot eagerly claps his hands together, the fork falling to the table with a clatter. “That’s a good idea!” He squeals, jumping up to run over and climb into your lap, laying his little hands on your belly. “Dad’s gonna be so excited to meet Blueberry, he’s gonna cry—”

“We are not naming this baby after a fruit. Sorry, kiddo.”

* * * *

An agonising two more months pass, lonely and chock-full of horrid cravings, mood swings, aches and pains and puking nearly every single morning…this baby already seems to hate you.

Elliot’s been a little trooper the past four months.

Hugs whenever you need them, plenty of crayon drawings of your family so you “don’t miss dad too much,” peace and quiet when you fall asleep at the table again, even a few attempted breakfasts in bed. He’s been so sweet and helpful when you know he misses his dad more than anything, so today you drag yourself out of bed, throw up once for good measure, and tell him to get ready for an ice cream trip.

Loki was supposed to be home a week ago, but you can’t let yourself think about that.

Driving with your little bump of a belly is starting to get really uncomfortable, but you make it alright to the little ice cream parlour that Elliot claims makes the best cotton candy ice cream of all time.

“I miss my dad,” Elliot pipes up while you’re sitting in silence, a faint bluish tint to his skin due to the coldness of the ice cream. “He shouldn’t hafta leave ever again.”

“Same here, kiddo, I’m sorry.” You lay a hand on your belly and try to give Elliot a reassuring smile. “This little monster misses him too, but they’re just glad that they have an awesome big brother to take care of them!”

That brings a halfhearted smile to the little boy’s face, and he goes back to licking his ice cream cone, watching you with reddish eyes deep in thought.

“Y’know, dad loves you, mom.” Elliot reaches over to take your hand in his tiny, sticky one, much to your surprise. “He loves you a whole lot, I know it, and he’s not gonna be angry that we’re havin’ another baby.”

Your jaw drops.

What the hell??

Your son, who is apparently getting some kind of crazy read on your thoughts right now, leans over the table and plants a sticky blue kiss to the back of your hand—just like he’s seen Loki do countless times. “Don’t be ‘fraid of him, he’s gonna be so super excited.”

Part of you kind of wants to run away screaming, but maybe mothers shouldn’t do that to their children, so you just gape like a dying fish at the strange little mini-Loki in front of you.

“I’m…I uh…” your mouth opens and closes a few times while your brain tries to catch up. “I’m not…I’m not scared of dad, Elliot, what makes you say that?”

You’re not…right?

Elliot licks his ice cream cone again, catching a drip down his arm. “Nah, you’re ‘voiding your ‘sponsibilities.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re scared to tell dad about Blueberry, right? I heard you in my dream, you told me dad was gonna be upset and get scared to have two kids.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the lie in his innocent statement. “But he—no, he won’t be upset, he wants another kid, he told me.”

This kid is ripping you to shreds, covered in blue and pink melted ice cream.

“S’what you told me,” Elliot shrugs. “Said dad’s gonna like one of us better.”

…you’ve got to pee again.

A blessed escape, cause if Elliot says one more word about Loki or this baby, you’re pretty sure your hormonal self is going to break down in tears.

“I’ll—I’ll be right back,” you choke, scooting your chair back with a loud scrape and pulling yourself to your feet. “Are you okay to stay here? I’ll only be a couple minutes right over there, no talking to strangers, you know the rules.”

Elliot nods, looking worried as you swipe at your eyes and set down your cup of ice cream with shaking hands. “You okay, mom?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be right back,” You mutter and rush off to the bathroom.

You certainly didn’t look fine, but Elliot shrugs to himself and goes back to his ice cream, keeping a wary eye on the other people in the shop.

“Did your mother just leave you out here all alone?”

Elliot spins around in his chair at the voice, dropping his ice cream cone to the floor and bringing his hands up ready to fight whoever is approaching him—Loki’s taught him enough to fend for himself.

But when he whirls around, he immediately lowers his hands and jumps out of his chair—it’s Loki.

“DAD!” Elliot scrambles out of the chair and bolts into Loki’s waiting arms, knocking him over with the force of his hug. “Dad, dad, you’re home! You’re home!!”

“That I am,” Loki laughs, hugging the little boy tightly to his chest. “I missed you so much, Elliot, so much.”

“Hey!” Elliot points a little finger into Loki’s chest, suddenly serious. “Don’t you ever leave us again, ‘kay??”

“Of course, I’m so sorry I had to—”

“Pinky promise??” Elliot shoves his little finger in Loki’s face, and the god chuckles, extending his own to seal the promise.

“Pinky promise. Hopefully.”

Satisfied with the agreement, Elliot jumps off his dad and rushes back to the table, frowning at the sticky mess that’s left of his ice cream on the floor. “You owe me an ice cream, dad, look whatcha made me do.”

“My sincerest apologies, young man,” Loki chuckles, swooping the kid up in his arms for another squirming hug, trying to sneak a few tickling kisses somewhere on his face. “Where is your mother?”

You come out of the bathroom just in time to hear Elliot answer “hidin’ from you, I think,” and you stop dead in the middle of the shop when you see your husband smiling wide and holding Elliot in his arms.

“Elliot! No I’m not!” You shake yourself out of your shocked daze, running over to the two of them and nearly knocking them over when you throw your arms around Loki’s neck.

Immediately setting Elliot back on the ground, Loki breathes your name and draws you into the tightest embrace he can manage, his arms clutching you so close you have to plant your hands on his chest and gently push him away to keep him from hurting your belly.

He doesn’t seem to notice, but Elliot sure does.

Loki’s hands cradle your face as he pulls away and just stares at you for a moment, trying to decide if words could even begin to describe how happy he is to be with you again.

“I missed…oh, come here.”

He laughs with watering eyes and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours over and over until neither of you can breathe, half laughing, half teary-eyed because he’s here, you’re all here, together finally.

“That was—mmph—too long,” you laugh around Loki’s relentless lips, keeping a hand to his chest to keep him from your baby bump.

Elliot bounces on the balls of his feet, glad to see his parents so happy again, but sticks a hand between you both to cover your belly. “Careful, dad, don’t hurt my b—”

“ELLIOT!” You cut him off with a nervous chuckle, shooting him a pointed look—shh!

The little boy claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Sorry.”

“What for?” Loki asks with a breathless laugh, his hand cradling the back of your head to keep you pressed against him.

“Nothing, nothing,” you assure him, kissing him again. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re home, Loki. Tell us everything!”

He holds you away from him for a moment with his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down with a dopey grin on his face—you’re really glad you wore a too-big shirt today, it covers your beginning baby bump pretty well.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs, shaking his head in disbelief—he missed you. His eyes fall on your chest and linger for a half a second longer; your breasts seem…bigger than when he left.

Trust me, he would know.

But he shakes it away and pulls up a chair, and the three of you launch into a detailed retelling of everything you’ve missed over the past four months.

“Well, everything went wrong the moment I stepped foot in Asgard.” He leans forward, eager to tell his story. “There had been an attempt on the relics, and rumours of more to come, so we had to—what’s so funny?”

Elliot’s covering his mouth with a sticky hand, desperately trying to muffle the giggle-fit overcoming him as he looks at you: you’re clutching your stomach with an extremely pained grimace, trying to get comfortable in the little metal chair.

“Nothin’…” he snorts and quickly looks away from you when you glare at him. “What happened next, dad?”

“Okay…” Loki shoots you a confused glance and you quickly grin back, trying not to look like there’s a tiny human laying directly on your bladder right now.

How’s that working out for you?

“Are you alright, my love? You look like you’re in pain.”

“Just a stomachache!” Your gritted laughter is nervous but hopefully convincing enough.

“Are you sure? Just tell me, darling, I can disspell the sickness in less than a second—Elliot!” He whirls around in his chair to glare halfheartedly at the little boy giggling again. “Your mother is in pain, why are you smiling??”

“‘Cause I know something you don’t know,” Elliot sings, clapping his hands with glee and wiggling around in his seat. “Mhm, I’ve got a secret, ‘n I’m not tellin’—”

“Elliot. That’s enough.”

You reach over and pull the little guy into your lap, clamping both hands over his mouth and smiling sweetly at your husband—who just looks very confused. And a little worried.

He’s made it pretty clear that there would be no secrets in this little family of yours.

“Our son…has a secret?” Speaking to you, not Elliot, he raises an eyebrow and it’s not exactly amused. “Care to enlighten me, wife?”

“Don’t worry, Loki, it’s not a secret,” you sooth, tapping Elliot’s mouth twice before letting him go again. “It’s more of…a surprise, really.”

Elliot clasps his hand behind his back and rocks forward on his toes, excited eyes darting back and forth between you and Loki.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“But you’re really gonna like this one,” Elliot promises, sending an overly dramatic attempt of a wink your way.

Unbelievable.

Letting out a dismayed groan, you drop your forehead to your hand. “Elliot, please stop…”

Loki crosses his arms, already looking a little on the defensive side with lips tightly pressed together—this is exactly why you didn’t want to tell him. Way to go, kid.

“If you have something to tell me, tell me now.”

“I—can I tell you at home? Later?”

The god sighs, not able to help feeling as if the joy of your reunion had been let out faster than the air in a deflating balloon—now he’s worried, feeling excluded, almost offended.

Secrets. Never a good idea within a family.

“Don’t worry, snowflake,” you chirp with feigned nonchalance. “You’re gonna love this surprise.”

Your fingers cross under the table.

* * * *

Loki doesn’t bring it up the rest of the day.

You’d guessed he would mention it again at least during dinner, try to pry the information from you, but he smiled and listened to Elliot talk about his loose tooth, eating his food apparently unbothered.

Your knee hasn’t stopped nervously bouncing since you sat down.

Maybe he knows? If Elliot felt it, Loki certainly could. The kid’s voice is still echoing through your mind as you get Elliot ready for bed:

“You told me dad was gonna be upset and get scared to have two kids.”

Okay, maybe you’re a little worried that Loki’s past may hinder his enthusiasm for a second child, but you’ve never even admitted to yourself that he would be upset or scared. But the more you think about it, the more sense it makes: he would be terrified.

Favouring one child over another? That would be Loki’s worst nightmare, yet he hadn’t brought that up when Elliot first asked for a sibling. He’d happily agreed to have a second kid, kissing away your concerns…

Hugging your arms around yourself, you stare at his back from the doorway. His hair is lazy, pulled into a mindless knot on the top of his head; he looks relaxed, doing dishes. At peace with his life.

His life with his wife and his one son.

Did he lie to you?

Had he looked you in the eye, said “I want another baby,” and lied?

God of lies, you keep letting yourself forget.

Your mind goes berserk right there in the kitchen, convincing you that he lied to you, that this baby is unwanted, that he only said that he wanted another baby to keep you happy, that no, he didn’t ever want children, he just wanted to fuck you, that everything he’s ever said to you is a lie—

“Your thoughts are deafening, my love.”

You jump with a start as his voice interrupts your destructive train of thought. “Were you listening?” You immediately ask, voice venomous. “Loki, did you listen?”

He turns around and dries off his hands, leaning back against the counter with a sad smile. “Of course not, out of respect for your secret. I trust you to tell me.”

You stare at him, unmoving and unsure, and he pushes himself away from the counter to take a few tentative steps toward you. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, sensing your troubled mind. “You need rest, then you can tell me this secret when you are ready.”

Nodding slowly, you let him take your hand and lead you to the bedroom, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He shuts the door behind you and you walk straight to the bed, laying down and turning your back on him to avoid this as long as possible.

“Don’t you want to change first?” Loki laughs, and the mattress dips as he climbs on next to you, laying right against your body and pulling you back into him. “Those pants can’t be comfortable, let me get them off of you.”

You shake your head—horny, lying bastard.

“…would you like me to draw you a bath?” He’s trying a gentler approach now, noticing your apprehension and holding you closer.

Another shake of the head.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Your hand subconsciously falls to your little baby bump, but Loki’s follows right after to cover your own hand with his.

You’re sick of this—just tell him.

You slip your hand out from under his, grab his wrist, and press it to your belly. His breath catches in his throat, you can hear it, and his cold hand gently runs across the swell of your stomach.

“What is this?”

Just say it.

“I’m pregnant.”

He sits straight up behind you and you screw your eyes shut—he’s going to leave now, right?

But he doesn’t leave; instead cold hands grip your waist and pull you onto your back, catching the hem of your shirt and promptly ripping it from your body.

“Loki!”

He looms over you, knees on either side of your body as he stares down at you. His eyes are wide and a distracted hand rubs over his mouth, trying to process this.

“How long have you known?” His voice is barely a breath.

“…four months.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

The hurt on his beautiful face is a sucker punch to the gut—you idiot, of course he wouldn’t be upset. This is Loki we’re talking about, your husband, the father of your child—children.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise quietly, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t…I thought you-you would be upset.”

He breathes a laugh and carefully runs his fingertips down your sides, trying to memorise the sight of you carrying his child…again.

“Why would I ever be upset, my love? I can’t believe you’re this pregnant and you didn’t tell me—”

“Elliot said something,” you anxiously cut him off. “It was stupid, really, I’m stupid for believing it…” you take a breath and ramble on. “He said he had a dream you got upset about having two kids cause you might like one more than the other.”

Loki pauses his kissing down your torso, freezing with his hand splayed across your baby bump. “How did he…”

“I dunno. He was freaking me out, Loki, he started telling me things I wasn’t even thinking yet.”

“That’s my boy,” the god laughs, resting his forehead on your stomach as your brow knits in concern.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you nudge Loki’s head up to look at you. “This doesn’t worry you?”

“Our son turns blue when he touches something cold.” He presses his lips to your stomach again, eyes tightly shut. “I’m afraid your family isn’t exactly the epitome of human normalcy.”

“Yeah, but Loki, was he right?”

“That I’m scared?” He trails his lips up your baby bump, over your chest and coming to rest firmly over your mouth. “My love…I am terrified.”

“Oh.”

Your arms wind around his neck and pull him back down to your lips—maybe if you keep kissing him, he won’t be able to see the disappointment in your eyes.

It works for a little bit, and you nearly lose yourself completely when he starts gently nipping at your lips and moving to tend to your neck; he’s making you drunk on him with the flip of a switch.

It’s too easy for him.

“Loki.” Your hands curl tighter in his hair.

“Hmm.”

“Then why did you tell me you wanted another kid?”

The god pauses, moving from your collarbone back to your face to frown down at you. His fingers are cold along your jaw. “Because I do want another kid.”

“But you’re terrified.”

“And you’re not?”

That makes your mouth snap shut, eyes darting around the room to avoid his piercing gaze. Of course you’re nervous, it’s not like you have any better ideas of how to raise a child—and you’re the one carrying it, for god’s sake.

“I don’t think I need to say more.” Loki smiles, soft and edging closer to the sad end of the spectrum. “I’m always scared. Of you, of my son…and now my second child.”

You still can’t look at him. Shame, maybe.

“I’m terrified of you, did you know that?” He’s kissing you again, lazy lips soft along the outline of your own, up and down your jaw. “Terrified of you, our future, our children. I could lose you in seconds.”

“That’s optimistic.” You try for a cracked smile.

Cool lips meet yours, firm as his hand traces over your baby bump. “It’s realistic, actually. Keeps me honest with myself.”

“We’re not leaving you, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

“But I don’t deserve for you to stay.”

Here we go again.

“Why do you always do this??” You force a playful smile onto your face and sit up, a hand on Loki’s chest pushing him off of you onto the bed. “There you go hating yourself again, sheesh.”

Grateful for the change in subject, you roll over halfway on top of him and mold your lips to his—his, parted slightly in surprise. Your hands cradle his face, stroking through his hair and over his cheekbones as you pour every ounce of adoration you possess for him into the kiss.

Then it really clicks, just how much you missed him.

Maybe that’s why you feel this…disconnect.

Within seconds his shirt is off too, your hands scouring every inch of his skin you can reach, Loki’s breathing becoming shallower as he fumbles with belts and tries to hold your face to his at the same time.

“Missed you,” he whispers hoarsely, giving up on the belt and falling into you, shaking hands holding your neck and waist in a death grip. “My family, I missed you both, and this new one—”

His voice cracks and he moves down, littering every inch of you with kisses that come to rest on the swell of your stomach as his hands hold tight to your hips.

“I’m beyond excited.” It’s nothing more than a whisper. “Terrified, scared out of my mind, but I am so, so happy our family is growing.”

“You sure?” You tangle your fingers in his hair and tip his head up to smile down at him.

“Do I need to prove it?”

God, you missed him.

You grab hold of his face and pull him up, smashing your lips to his.  “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

So he does.

At least, he tries, until a yell for dad echoes down the hall.

“Good to see nothing has changed,” Loki sighs, pressing one last kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t you go anywhere, we’re not done here.”

You throw a pillow at him with a laugh as he winks and slips out the door.

Elliot is awake, as expected, sitting in his bed clutching the blankets to his chest, a strangely bright smile on his little face. “Hey dad!”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Hey…”

“You awake?”

“I am now, clearly.” He sits on the edge of the bed and plants a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “Why did you call for me?”

The little boy shrugs. “Just wonderin’.”

“…if I was awake?”

“Yup.”

They stare at each other for a second—

—Loki confused and battling with the fact that he just had to leave you on the bed to come take care of this kid, and Elliot scrunching his nose up in the biggest grin at his dad, just happy to see him.

“I’m…going to go back to bed now.” Loki points at the door, giving his son a strange look. “Unless you have literally anything else to tell me? Redeem my coming in here?”

“Nope!” Elliot throws his arms out in a request for a hug.

…that Loki all too happily delivers.

“Oh! Did mom tell you the secret yet?” He whispers, squeezing Loki tighter with arms thrown around his neck.

“She did,” Loki chuckles. “Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait! We’re gonna be bestest friends and I’m naming it Blueberry cause I love blueberries and I love my baby so I’m gonna—”

“Blueberry??”

“Yeah!”

Loki shakes his head with a laugh. “Blueberry Lokason. A name for the ages, without a doubt.”

Elliot beams at his father’s approval and Loki ruffles a hand through his curly hair. “Come on, go to sleep. You shouldn’t be awake right now.”

“Well you guys woke me up…” he grumbles, flopping down on his pillow.

Not again. Loki freezes, face twisting in worry—you hadn’t even started. If that was too loud, then by the end of the night the whole neighbourhood is going to be awake. “Were we being too loud?”

“Nah.” A little smile spreads over the kid’s face. “Mom’s just happy, real happy, and it woke me up.”

“You…you can feel that?”

“Yup. Just like you.” He nuzzles deeper into his pillow. “Thought’ya might wanna know, dad, ‘case you forgot.”

With a face as precious as that, Loki doesn’t have the heart to tell him that’s not just like him…that’s not exactly how his access to the mind works, but the last thing Elliot needs is another reason to believe he’s unusual.

“In case I forgot what, Elliot?” He smiles and kisses the boy’s forehead, running a hand through his hair.

“How to tell when mom’s happy!” He opens his eyes and rolls onto his back, grinning up at Loki. “I almost forgotted too, she’s been sad so long. S’why I woke up!”

“Well.” Loki’s heart twists painfully in his chest. “Thank you. I think I remember now.”

“I gotcha covered, daddy.”

“Go to sleep, little giant.”

* * * * * * * *

The walk down the hall back to the room leaves Loki wondering.

He…felt it.

The kid could tell you were pregnant before you even knew, he could tell that you were nervous to tell Loki, he knew that Loki was scared before he’d admitted it to you…now he felt that you were happy? Strong enough to wake him up?

Apparently Elliot can do a lot more than just turn blue.

The thought of that is terrifying.

All Loki can think of as his hand rests hesitantly on the doorknob is what he’s done. What he’s passed on to this child, unwillingly taking another life down with his own curses.

Elliot’s life is going to be full of pain, if this is what he is capable of. It’s bad enough that he has no control over the shifting of his skin, no thanks to the fruitless attempts Loki has made to figure out how to help him, but now…

Loki starts when you open the door.

“What’d he need?”

You’re smiling—happy, Loki can tell this time. He silently thanks Elliot for the reminder.

“A hug.” He quickly smiles back. “Wanted to know if I was awake…the usual midnight Elliot inquiries.”

“Can I get one?”

You hold your arms out and grin, giddy and irresistibly bright, and Loki steps forward to sweep you into his arms.

“I’ll give you a bit extra, too,” he chuckles, peppering your neck with light kisses as he walks you backward towards the bed. Your knees hit the edge and you fall onto the mattress, grabbing him behind the neck to bring him down with you.

An arm by your head to keep him hovering over you, Loki pauses, just smiling down at you as a few lingering laughs leave your lips.

“Are you happy, my love?”

Cold fingers run down your cheek and he leans down, brushing his lips against yours.

“Of course I am,” you mumble, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him close. “You’re home, I’ve got the best little kid sleeping down the hall, and we’ve got another one on the way.” Another peck on the lips. “I’m way past happy, snowflake.”

“Good,” he whispers, and decides that’s going to be enough for him.

That’ll be enough for all four of you.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen  @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @vast-ish @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @little-scintilla @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective

[leinawosaf]

missed connections

a/n: this was supposed to be different, I’m not particularly proud of this, but it is what it is. It took me so long to write so I’ll be posting it anyways.

summary: Having Steve gone on missions so frequently has always left you blue.

pairing: Steve rogers x reader

WARNINGS: angst, depression and anxiety, and also fluff at the end

word count: ~1.5k

----

   A steady knocking woke you from a fitful sleep. Looking around your room in a daze, you peered at the digital alarm clock hiding behind a few bottles of water on your nightstand. Your eyes strained to make out 7 p.m. illuminating an angry red color through the darkness. The once consistent knocking on your door paused for a few moments as if to decide if the person should be there before it started again. You silently wished it would go away and that you could go back to sleep. After what seemed like forever to you, the person behind the door gave up on knocking and decided on just opening the door. 

    It has been almost two weeks since most of the other avengers had gone on their mission. You missed Steve more than you cared to tell anyone. Since then, the avengers tower had been sullenly quiet, and the few that were here always seemed to leave you in the tower alone. The stress of your everyday life and responsibilities only seemed to intensify the worry you had while Steve was away.

   Recognizing Bucky’s serious face from the doorway, you watched as his eyes traveled around your room with slight surprise. Soft embarrassment lit up your cheeks because you never intended on him seeing your room as messy as it was. You watched him stand for a minute as he searched for you, hidden in the shadows of the room and your blankets. The clutter in your room had slowly accumulated for a few days, and it had seemed too impossible for you to get out of bed to clean it.

   Bucky looked at you quizzically, as if to be asking if he could come in further. “Come in” You said quietly, watching him move indecisively around the room. Acknowledging his discomfort, you bent and pushed some clothes off of the opposite side of your bed so that he could come and sit comfortably.

   “I haven’t seen you out of your room for two days.” Bucky said, worried tone in his voice.

   “I left it, you just missed me I guess.” You said, trying your best not to make eye contact.

   “Well, I’m glad. But I brought you some water and some crackers” He handed you a plastic bottle of water and a box of saltines he had in his hands.

   “Did you go to the store for this?” You asked, taking a sip from the cool water to quell the irritating dryness in your mouth. 

   “Yeah. Earlier.” He dropped his hands into his lap, and watched as you drank the water.

   “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me anything, let me pay you back.” You said, looking around the room for your phone so you could transfer him a few dollars. 

   “No, its fine. A thank you is enough.” He replied, letting an uncomfortable silence fill the air after you decided not to reply. You two sat quietly for a minute as you ate a few saltines. Not talking seemed good, though.

   Eventually, he decided he had enough of the silence and cleared his throat. You eyed him suspiciously, his flesh hand fidgeting with a small portion of fabric at the bottom of his shirt.  

   “Everything okay?” You asked him, watching him fidget uncomfortably.

   “Yeah. Steve told me to check on you.” He said, looking you directly into your eyes.

   “Why did Steve send you to check on me?” You said, pulling your comforter up over your stomach and sitting back.

   “He said that you haven’t picked up a few of his calls for a few days and he said he was worried for you.” You sent back a guilty nod, trying to hide the frown on your face. In all honesty, you couldn’t find the energy to do almost anything recently, nonetheless pick up calls. You felt bad for not calling Steve back, but you knew that he wouldn’t pick up your return call anyways because he would have been busy with his mission. 

   “Anyways, I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you. Sorry.” He replied, noticing the face you had made in response to his words.

   “No, thank you. I appreciate you bringing me some food and water.” You replied, setting your hand on his for a moment as to show your gratitude. He nodded, and sent back a curt smile.

   “Um, they will probably be back soon. He said that the mission ended earlier than they expected” He said as he stood up and walked toward the door.

   “Okay. Thank you, Buck.” You replied, not paying him much attention as you grabbed your phone from the nightstand. He left the room but lingered in the doorway for a moment. After taking one last glance around your room, he turned and shut the door behind him as he walked away.

   You checked your phone to see four missed calls from earlier this morning and later last night. It would be so much easier to talk with Steve if he would text you, but he always insisted on calling you. As much as you hated talking with people on the phone, you always gave in to Steve and called him.

   Quickly dialing his number, you decided to call him back and apologize. You pressed the call button and waited for him to pick up. Twirling your hair,  you anxiously listened as the phone rang a few times. After five rings and what felt like a wait of thirty minutes, you were sent to voicemail. 

   You sighed and laid back in your bed as the voicemail bot talked through her spiel about leaving a message. Eventually, the beep sounded and you could start speaking.  Taking a deep breath, you started to speak. “Um. Hey baby, I’m so sorry. I apologize, I feel so bad. Um, I hope everything from your mission went well. I’m proud of you, always. Anyways, I can’t wait to see you soon. Call me back when you can- or just see me in person. I love you” Words spilled out of your mouth like word vomit. Your eyes started to water with guilt. You really did feel bad for not talking to him.

   Hanging up the phone, you decided to seize the momentary clear headspace and energy to take a shower. Having Steve see you like this seemed terrible, you knew he would overreact and make everything a big deal.

 You walked toward the bathroom connected to your room. Everything seemed unreal, the light too bright, the room too cold, and like it had been forever since you had seen the bathroom. You turned the on the shower water hotter than you normally would have. You showered in near silence and slowly lathered your body with plain bar soap you had when you were too overwhelmed for your normal scented one.

   Time in the shower seemed too short, and before you knew it you were out and toweling off slowly. Working your way around your legs, you made sure you were thoroughly dry. Sitting on the cold bathroom counter, you applied lotion to your legs and arms, and inhaled in the subtle scent of the artificial coconut. 

   You quickly stepped down onto the floor and opened back into your room after hearing commotion from somewhere else on the floor. You picked up Steve’s shirt from by the bathroom door, and slid it on. The shirt was generously over sized on you, but it was comforting even if his scent was wearing off. Putting on some black sweatpants, you decided that was good enough and that you were proud of yourself for taking a shower today.

   The commotion outside seemed to die down, and you heard somebody walking down the hall. You made your way toward the door, and breathed heavily with a hand on the doorknob. Leaning against the door, you faltered for a moment as if to decide whether you were ready to go out and see everyone again. Eventually though, you decided to go for it and cautiously opened the door.

   You stepped slowly out of your room, as if you knew you were walking into your impending doom and you were trying to stall for as long as possible. The joyful chatter became increasingly louder as you approached. Eventually you saw Sam’s joyous smile at the end of the hall, speaking loudly. 

   He turned to his side to see you slowly walking down the hall, and decided to nearly holler down to you. 

   “Hey! No way, its Y/N. I thought you would never come out of hiding.” He called to you, and you rolled your eyes in fake confidence and shuffled along.

   Reaching the end of the hall, you saw the other Avengers who had arrived from their mission. Your eyes scanned the room quickly as you looked for Steve. Upon spotting him, your face lit up. His smile was captivating, and you could stare all day. His eyes seemed tired, but he was happy to be back. 

   You stepped toward him and he looked you up and down. “Nice shirt” He said, instantly recognizing it as his own. 

   “Thanks” You said, and your face became hot as you were blushing. Usually, you were confident and sassy, but being with Steve always made you flustered. 

   You stepped toward him and slipped into his warm arms, hugging him tighter than you realized. He kissed the top of your head in greeting. You smiled into his chest, and mumbled a small hello. 

   Almost forcing you off of him, you giggled sheepishly.

   “And thus, the lovebirds are reunited” Tony said, mocking you two playfully. You rolled your eyes in response, and held Steve close. Having him back in one piece never failed to make you happy.

[nsheetee]

fine arts major reader x art history major doyoung pls

Summary: when you are forced to take intro to art history, you are not the least bit happy about it- until you meet art history major doyoung. he changes your views on art history and takes you on a date trip to the museum (+ some bonus fluffy scenarios at the end!)

as a fine arts major, you spent a lot of time in the fine arts building

like

a LOT of time

whenever you aren’t taking classes to complete your gen eds in other buildings, you could be found in the one of the studios that the fine arts building offered

like the photography lab

you loved capturing art through photographs, even if you weren’t that good at it at first- a camera in your hand and an inquisitive eye felt right for you

or you could be found in one of the art studios

it was always quiet in there, only the sound of paint brushes sliding on canvases and the frustrated sighs of art students filling the empty space

whatever it was- you loved all the fine arts

you were a hands-on type of person, practically searching for something to get your hands dirty with

to just…

create something

you were never one that could be forced to sit in a chair for an hour and listen to people talk on and on

so when your academic advisor told you that taking intro to art history would “benefit your future” and “widen your knowledge of art”

you just cringed- 

art history means you have to sit

in one of those dumb plastic chairs

probably in one of the basement rooms of the fine arts building

where there was almost no air conditioning and even less natural light from outside

and no one in the class is actually interested in art history- they’re just there to get the fine arts credit they need to graduate but couldn’t get into music appreciation

your academic advisor was at their wits end when it came to convincing you, so you took the class 

(at least one of you is happy about this situation)

enter doyoung:

doyoung is an arts history major- it’s his passion

literally, he can barely talk about anything else

he’s overall artistically inclined

(you should hear his singing voice, sounds like an angel kissing your ears)

but art history is where his mind rests

so when one of his professors asked him to help TA an intro to art history class 

doyoung was excited !!

until he got to the class

there was maybe 20 people on the class roster, but only about 10 people showed up the first week

doyoung was deflated and a bit discouraged

why was intro to art history such an unpopular class??

art history was amazing, filled with amazing people who have created amazing pieces of art that have LITERALLY gone down in history and have changed the way art is today

WHY WERE THERE ONLY 10 PEOPLE IN THE CLASS??!!!?!?

you sat on the left side of the classroom through all the lectures, half dozing off and half doodling in your notebook, hoping that osmosis could help you retain all the material the professor was teaching

but to no avail- you failed your first quiz… and then your first test

and quickly you realized you needed help or else you could kiss your high GPA goodbye

since the professor’s office hours were inconvenient for you, you went to the TA’s office hours instead

doyoung’s “office” was the TA room, couches and wobbly tables filled the space and you were surprised that only doyoung was there

doyoung was surprised to see you too- you were the first person to come  visit him during his office hours

“are you here… for art history tutoring?” he asks

“yeah… I failed the first test and I can’t fail anymore” you explained simply, sitting down at the other edge of the couch he was at

that was all it took for doyoung to quickly help you with the information you missed and compile your notes so that you could study them later

you ended up meeting him during his office hours every week-

at first it was just for the notes, but soon you realized doyoung was fun to listen to

he was smart, in the kind of way that artists are smart

his way of speaking was captivating to you, his vocabulary and diction made you want to sit on that couch in the TA room and not move until you could memorize doyoung’s divine voice

(if this is what he did to you while talking, what would he do to you if he was singing??)

as for the actual content of the class, it was (s l o w l y) becoming interesting to you

the way the teacher taught it- bless their heart- just wasn’t captivating for you

but when doyoung sits back in his seat, his eyes sparkling as he looks at the ceiling -but his mind elsewhere- and fiddling with his pen in his nimble fingers

talking a mile a minute, somehow going from topic to topic from Monet to Grant Wood from cubism to impressionism

it was a whirlwind of knowledge that you ingested through these sessions  

you realized that your passion for creating pieces of art was the same kind of passion doyoung had for the history of art

you started to appreciate doyoung and all his hard work on a different level after realizing that

but doyoung was freaking out, man

he was only supposed to be helping you with intro to art history work

and he was! but somewhere in the messy middle he became.. comfortable

maybe it was the way you listened to his rants with your hand under your jaw and eyes wide, drinking in every word as you hastily scribble something on your notepad without even looking down

this kind of attention wasn’t something doyoung was used to

(he was definitely the center of a few jokes when he was younger)

but he welcomed your attention and he was glad your view on art history was changing

he had no clue what compelled him to ask you to go to the museum with him

“the m-museum?” you stuttered out “who else is going?” you asked, trying to not clutch your pen in your hand

your heart was fighting with your head already- one wanted this to be a date and the other was forcing you to not over react and just accept his invitation as a TA trying to help their student

a very, very helpful TA

“it would… just be us.” doyoung gulps and before he could suggest inviting more people, you started messily packing your things into your bag

“GREAT! I mean- not great, I mean that’s fine- well not fine, it’s… satisfactory.” you mentally slapped yourself at your choice of words and barely looked at doyoung when you ran out of the room, calling out that you would see him at the museum

the day of the museum “appointment” (that’s what doyoung called it in his head to keep himself from getting too excited) came and you and doyoung awkwardly met outside of the front doors, walking in together

but fear not:

art was a perfect ice-breaker for you two

the awkwardness and uncertainty melts away once you both lift your eyes and look at the art rather than looking at your feet

now walking shoulder to shoulder, your knuckles brush together and it seems like it’s only you, doyoung, and the paintings in the entire museum

sometimes you would lean over and whisper comments in doyoung’s ear and he hums absentmindedly- becoming more interested in looking at you than at the art in front of him

at one point, you both end up sitting on a bench in front of an enormous painting, chin tilted up to view it in all its beauty

you had been staring at it for a while and doyoung has been staring at you for a while, too

“it’s beautiful” you say and doyoung agrees, you finally turn to look at him

“what are you agreeing for? I don’t think you even looked at the painting” you laughed quietly

“I wasn’t talking about the painting” 

“I didn’t know you had a cheesy bone in your body, doie” you teased and doyoung leaned towards you

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me. how about we go to this cafe I know and you can learn some more?”

Bonus: some short, fluffy scenarios of what happens next

when doyoung walks into intro to art history the next day, he sees you already looking for him. the memories of the day before swims through both of your minds. doyoung feels as warm as the mocha he drank that same night when you went to a small cafe; you sat close enough that he could count the lashes on your eyes and he listened to you talk about how much you love creating art and how it’s your whole pride and joy. doyoung hopes the way he feels as he’s listening to you speak is how you feel when he goes on his tangents about art history

sitting on your bed, you edit pictures on your computer as doyoung reads a book, his lips moving as he processes the words and little breaths of air hit your collarbones as he keeps leaning into you. his fingers entangle and release with yours absentmindedly and once his book no longer entertained him, he hummed melodies into your shoulder and softly ran his nose up your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind. from that point on, there was a lot less studying and editing happening on that couch

when the college allows you to showcase some of your art in a popular display hall, you and doyoung dress up and go to the showcase reveal. when your name is called and you are recognized as an artist, doyoung’s hands runs up and down your back and he pulls you closer, pride filling his chest like air filling a balloon. he leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your head, “im so proud of you, really” he mumbles, and you turn your head to give him an actual kiss, his warm hand on the back of your neck trying to keep you there as long as possible. he loves the type of happiness that’s etched on your face when you do pull away. he would do anything to see you this happy for the rest of your life.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Our Home (II)

Summary: California, the golden state, home of the dreamers and the sun. No one can have a rainbow without a little rain. The rain has past now all we see is the misty rainbows. (There is still a lot of Jim Croce references).

Bambam X Reader

Multi-parted: Part I, Part II, Mini-Part III, and Mini-Part IV.

(This part only alludes to the reader’s past but doesn’t talk about it).

California is everything we dreamed up and more although it took a few months until we were on our feet. Our first aim was to find a home to settle down in. The house we settled on was old but with a whole lot of love, we could make her shine. We got a mortgage on her and that's when we knew everything was starting to piece itself together for us. The outside looked like a train wreck with paint falling off the sides of the walls, the grass overgrown. But the inside screamed of the house screamed 'home' to the both of us. From the painted grapes on the kitchen cabinets to the living room's sunken floor. Everywhere we turned we found ourselves looking at each other giddily. We shared the same idea that this house is our home, I remember the realtor’s shocked face when we said we’d take it. No one has lived in the house since the seventies, and the rooms were all different colors. Nothing seemed in place in the house, but that was why it caught our eyes. It was something that none of the other houses had, character. Of course, we sat on the porch talking it over before settling for it. The day after we took the mortgage out with the money we had from “The Mac,” we started on our hunt to find a job.

It wasn’t hard for Bambam to find a tattoo artist shop that was willing to take him in. The place that took him under their wings just opened up. Both of them had a wide variety of experiences and were willing to teach him the ropes. The smile on his face was unforgettable, the smile that stretched from ear to ear. As he came out of the shop, I leaned against his bike with an amaryllis flower, knowing he had the job walking in. I put the flower behind his ear as he picked me up and spun me around. “I’m so proud of you, Babe!” I told him excitedly, he giggled, “I can’t wait to start!” I laugh with him, “When do you?” He set me down, “Tomorrow morning, bright and early so they can start teaching me. Maybe someday my name will be up there.” He tells me pointing towards the sign that reads, “Mark and Gyeom’s Tattoo Parlour”. I kiss his cheek, as I tell him the meaning of the flower.

For me, it was a different story, while Bambam only saw two tattoo parlors before the third accepted him. It took me three weeks, of going to every recording place in the city. Bambam was at the parlor learning the art of tattooing on fruits. I started early in the morning applying, hoping they would at least look at my music sheets. It was evening when I looked at my wallet which had a few dollars in it and decided to grab a cup of tea at a cafe. As I sat there thinking, Bambam crossed my mind and it was like my hand couldn't grab a piece of paper and pen fast enough. I couldn’t stop writing it seemed like this cafe resembled everything we had been through to make it to this point. Once I finished my final thought on paper, I left the shop I knew I had to bring Bambam later.

I was about to call it quits for the night as I walk down a gloomy side street filled with neon signs. What should bother me about this alleyway doesn’t affect me a bit. I had grown used to these sinister side streets back in New York. I look up and see the sunset out in the distance. It reminds me that I always have hope, and with Bambam by my side I know I can achieve my dreams. When I reach the end of the alley, I see the beach. As much as it calls out to me, I find myself turning left, my heart guiding me. I look at the signs when a blue neon sign catches my eye, “Lost Amour: Recording Label.”

I pick up my pace and when I enter the business everything feels right. I swallow a gulp and a guy with an anti-eyebrow piercing greets me and asks, “What can I do for you?” A smile gracing his features, “I-I,...” I talk myself out of a stammer in my head and approach the desk with confidence. I pull out my lyrics and compositions from my satchel. “I was wondering if you were looking for a new lyricist or composer! I can do both, so it’s okay if you only want me to do one or the other!” I tell him trying not to let him get his hopes down about me. My heart has been broken so many times this week, I feel like this is my last chance.

He asks if he can read over my works and I agree immediately. He is the first person to even look at my lyrics and compositions. I watch him flip through them until he reaches the song I wrote in the cafe. I see him smile, “Who is this about?” A grin breaks out on my face, “That’s about my lover Bambam, he is everything I ever dreamed about and more.” He grins, “You poured your whole heart into this one.” He stares at it, “Honey?” His voice calls out, “Yes, Sugar?” A male voice responds, “Would you come up here?” A man emerges from a glass office, he places his hand on the back of the anti-eyebrow piercing man. Anti-eyebrow tells his lover, “I want you to read over this” He nods, “Who wrote this?” He asks after he reads it through, his partner points at me, “I’m Park Jinyoung and you are?” I gulp, “I’m (Y/n) (L/n)” The other man tells me his name is Im Jaebeom, I tell them it’s a pleasure to be acquainted with them. Jaebeom whispers something to Jinyoung, and Jinyoung nods. Jinyoung tells me, “We’ve needed a new lyricist and composer. Someone to bring light to Lost Amour, since our last coworker left for Chicago. Would you want to join us here?” He holds his hand out for me to shake and my jaw drops, “Really?” They look at each other before looking over and nodding at me, “If you write like this all the time, from the heart,... We need someone like you, what do you say, (Y/n)?” I’m in shock and my heart is beating out of my chest. I grin and shake Jinyoung's hand, “I would love to work with you guys.” They grin, “Welcome to the Lost Amour, then. We'll need your contact information so we can contact you about your hours. We'll have the official papers ready for you by Monday.” I agree and shake Jaebeom's hand once I leave the building with my songs, my heart is pounding.

I run home and pull out my guitar. I started playing around with the song that I made at the cafe. I’m gonna show it to Bambam tonight, I’m gonna tell him that I made it. I eat a quick snack and fix up the song to perfection. By the time he gets home, I made my final corrections and rush downstairs. My grin saying it all, I already know but I grab his hand and rush us up the creaky stairs. I have him sit next to me and I start strumming, singing out my whole heart. When I finish he puts his hands on the sides of my cheeks, “You found a label, didn’t you?” His smile wide, “I’m so proud of you” I pull him in by his neck kissing him, “I did, that’s the song that got me in.” He kisses my forehead, his hands still on my cheeks, “Is this song about me?” I nod, “You’re my whole world, Bambam. I was sitting in this cafe that reminded me of us,... Would you like to go to that cafe with me tonight?” He grins, “Let's celebrate the bill is on me” he pulls me up and spins me around. We sway for a little basking in each other’s warmth.

The pale yellow in the room contrasting against his tan skin, and my heart feels calmed by his presence. He makes me feel like I can take on the world, “You’re my world, god I can do anything by your side.” He voices my feelings, I grin and kiss him, “Bambam, nothing in this world could compare to you.” He shakes his head and I continue, “You’re the one I want to go through time with.” I softly sing into his ear, he puts his chin on my shoulder, “Let’s build our home up from pillars of love” he whispers.

---

Three months later, our house is finally settled in. We’ve worked day and night on her every time we’re home together. Sometimes we get caught up with each other, but looking at it now. The siding having a fresh coat of pale yellow paint after scraping off the crumbling green. After we ran around the house like little kids chasing each other with paintbrushes full of paint. Or when it got too hot and we would dunk one another with a bucket of water. The first time I did it to Bambam, he screamed, before I could run away he had his arms around me shivering. “You brought this upon yourself!” His laughter ringing through his voice as I tried to get out of his hold.

Tiling the bathroom floor was awful, we asked help from Yugyeom, his coworker. They complained the whole time. By the end, we were throwing the little plastic spacers at each other. I stepped on so many plastic spacers because of our antics, felt just like legos. Jackson, our next-door neighbor, came over with lunch ready to help us out. He invited Youngjae over who lived across from us to help too. I never thought I would have people in my life that would selflessly come over and want to help. Youngjae came in shortly after, with full stomachs we went back upstairs to finish tiling.

Don’t worry it wasn’t long before Jaebeom, Jinyoung, and Mark were called,... We may be fixing up our house but it doesn’t mean we know what we’re doing. When Jaebeom arrived we had him look at the water heater, we got it to turn off but we couldn’t get it to turn back on. It took Jackson, Mark, and him thirty minutes before we had warm water.

I ordered pizza for everyone that night. Mark’s girlfriend came in tired from her long workday. We ate our hearts out in pizza as we sat and talked about life. We haven’t even known each other for that long, but we’re all so comfortable around each other. Like one big happy family, one that you see on television. Where they go out on the weekends together and enjoy each other's company. Trying new things together, telling stories from years past.

Going out for events such as Bambam’s name being added to the company name, or one of my songs make it big. You wouldn’t believe the party we held when we were told Mark’s girlfriend was going to have a baby. Our house became a home, not just because of the new fixtures but because of the people we’re surrounded by. It’s always lively no matter where you are when you’re with them.

Then there are nights like tonight, where Bambam and I sit on the couch before we go to work. Cuddling up to each other, nothing could get better than this. Bambam grabs my hand, I lean my head up to look at him, “Yes?” I ask him softly, wondering what he was thinking, “Would you,... want to get a couple tattoo with me?” I grin with a shrug, “Yeah, why not?” He grins and leans over placing a kiss on my forehead. He tells me that he wants me to tattoo it onto him. At first, I disagreed until he convinced me with, “If you tattoo it on me, I’d be able to say my lover tattooed that on me! Even if it doesn’t look good, everyone is going to think it’s endearing!” I shook my head with a smile and agreed.

I guess as Jim Croce had once said, “Is that nobody ever had a rainbow, baby, until he had the rain.” The rain was my past and my present is Bambam and the life we spend together. The rainbow is showing its colors in the life we lead together, though the rain will always be there,... The sun will shine through and make a rainbow because Bambam’s my sun.

[ritualmichael]

Breakfast in Bed - Dad!Michael

just a lil thank you since i hit 2.4k! michael and his son make y/n breakfast in bed because they just love her so much.

warnings: possible baby fever, im sorry.

-

It was early. It was too early yet there Michael was, being pulled from his sleep by a tiny finger poking his cheek. He groaned sleepily, grabbing the small hand in his larger one, pulling it away from his face. Blinking a few times, he adjusted to the light and saw his son perched on his stomach, peering down at him with his wide, blue eyes. In any other situation he would’ve been annoyed by being woken up at such an early hour, but he couldn’t resist the way his tiny copy looked at him.

Giving him a tired smile, Michael pulled him down to lay next to him and his son quickly found the perfect spot at his side, his head on his shoulder as he looked up brightly at his father.

“Good morning, little man,” Michael whispered, careful to not wake you as you slept soundly with your back to the pair.

“You said we could make breakfast for Mommy,” he said, mimicking Michael’s soft whisper and completely disregarding a greeting, clearly very serious about his order of business.

“I did, didn’t I?” Michael said, rubbing his tired eyes and his son watched him intently, always fascinated by the things Michael did.

“Uh huh,” the boy agreed, climbing off of Michael and grabbing his hand, weakly trying to pull him up as he climbed off of the bed. “C’mon,” he pleaded.

Michael climbed out of the bed carefully, trying not to wake you up from the sudden shift in weight on the mattress. He grabbed a shirt, quickly tugging it over his head and followed his son as his tiny legs hurriedly carried him to the kitchen. He beat Michael there, already setting up his small stool in front of the counter so that he could reach.

“I want fruit loops,” he said to Michael when he walked in, seeing his son trying to reach for the cabinet but miserably failing.

“What happened to making breakfast?” Michael asked, grabbing the cereal box and handing it to him. He opened another cabinet, getting out two bowls.

“Thats for Mommy, not us,” he declared as if Michael had asked the most obvious question ever. It made the man chuckle, retrieving the milk from the fridge.

“I see,” he said, letting his son carefully pour cereal for the both of them into each of the bowls, but pouring the milk himself. There had been too many accidents in the past, Michael had learned his lesson about letting his son pour liquids.

Lifting his small body up onto the counter, Michael set his son down and sat next to him, their legs dangling off of the counter as they both ate their cereal. He reached over, showing his son how to properly hold his spoon, silently nodding in approval as he chewed.

The pair sat quietly as they both ate, mouths too full to speak. It blew Michael’s mind at how much his son could eat, nearly finishing his plates before either of his parents ever could.

When they were finished, Michael helped the boy down from the counter and he pattered after his dad as he made his way to the sink, setting his bowl down inside. His son held up his bowl up to him, not quite able to reach the sink yet.

“Thank you,” Michael said, taking his bowl and quickly washing the two of them. His son made it his responsibility to grab the milk, screwing the lid on tightly and putting it back in the same spot in the fridge where he had watched Michael grab it from. Michael admired how much he always wanted to help.

“So, what do you want to make?” Michael asked as he looked in the fridge for ideas. His son clung to his side, peering in as well.

“Pancakes?” he asked excitedly, peering up at his dad for approval. Michael nodded at the idea, beginning to grab some things they would need for the batter, handing a few things to his son.

“If we make these do you promise to be extra careful around the stove? You know our rules,” Michael asked, arranging all of the ingredients and tools on the counter. You both always made it a point to teach your son about dangerous things such as hot pans, he was too precious to the two of you to take any risks.

“Don’t grab the handle and don’t touch the top,” he recited, earning a proud smile from Michael, the man reaching down and ruffling his already messy hair.

“Good,” Michael said, beginning to pour some things in a bowl and pushed it over to where his son was standing on his stool. “Stir it carefully,” he instructed, handing him a spoon.

He securely held the bowl as his son whisked the ingredients, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. He pointed out a few spots that needed more mixing, the boy eagerly fixing the issue.

“Why do they call them pancakes if they don’t have icing?” his son inquired as he watched, from a safe distance, as Michael poured the batter into the sizzling pan. He was always asking questions that Michael had never even thought of.

“Good point,” Michael chuckled, trying to keep the batter in a perfect circle as it cooked. “I guess because they’re made with batter like cakes are. Remember when we made that cake for your birthday?”

“Spider-man!” his son exclaimed excitedly as he thought about his cake they had made just a few months ago, insisting that he have a homemade Spider-man cake. It didn’t look the best but he was still completely enthralled about it to this day.

“Yeah, Spider-man. He was made kind of the same way,” Michael explained to his fascinated son. He watched as he dipped his tiny finger into some of the batter that was left over in the bowl, tasting it and scrunching up his nose when he realized it didn’t taste anything like a sweet cake.

“Yuck,” he said, shaking his head at Michael and making the man laugh.

“Maybe it’s because you made it. You must be a bad cook,” the man shrugged nonchalantly as he teased the boy. He felt him tug on his shirt, frowning up at him as he challenged him.

“I am not! I made the cereal, that was good!” he argued, only making Michael laugh more. He flipped the pancake over in the pan, silently applauding himself for how well the bottom of the pancake had cooked. As much as his son wanted to make this breakfast, Michael truly wanted it to be perfect. He was always eager to find small ways to show his appreciation for you.

“But, I poured the milk?” Michael questioned, playfully challenging the boy even more.

“I poured the fruit loops!” he quickly replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He definitely had his mother’s stubbornness.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t that bad of a cook,” Michael compromised, plating the first pancake. Giving his son a banana and a dull, plastic knife he showed him how to slice the fruit so that he could put them on top. The pair worked together as they made the rest of the food for your breakfast, the house starting to fill with the smell of pancakes.

Michael stole a slice of banana, popping it into his mouth. “Shh,” he said, playfully smiling at his son as he mimicked his dad, stealing a piece from the plate as well.

The boy insisted on arranging the banana slices in a smiley face on the pancakes, carefully drizzling syrup all over them. Looking over the finished plate, he beamed proudly.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked, looking up at Michael.

“She’ll love it, buddy,” Michael assured him, pouring a glass of orange juice. He set the plate onto a tray, carefully handing it to his son who held it like it was the most precious thing ever.

“Be careful,” he urged the boy, holding the glass of orange juice himself, not wanting to deal with scrubbing an orange stain out of the carpet this early in the morning. He watched as his son quietly padded into your bedroom, looking back at him with questioning eyes when he noticed you were still asleep.

Michael silently motioned for him to set the try on the nightstand, setting down the cup of orange juice down too. He grabbed his son, lifting him up onto the bed and he climbed over to your sleeping figure, giggling quietly before he started to attack you with affection as Michael lovingly watched, holding back his laughter.

You woke up to a mess of kisses all over your face, those familiar giggles filling the room and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“What are you doing?” you sleepily said, wrapping your arms around your son and hugging him to you as your eyes fluttered open. He was looking at you with the sweetest grin, scarily resembling Michael.

“Me and Daddy made you breakfast in bed!” he happily exclaimed, making you look up to see Michael sitting on the bed next to you. He gave you a warm smile, reaching over and brushing your hair off of your forehead, pressing a quick kiss there.

“Good morning, baby,” he said, grabbing the tray from the nightstand. “Let Mommy eat, bub.”

Your son climbed off of you, giving your cheek a quick kiss and climbing under the blankets in Michael’s spot, resting his head on his dad’s pillow. You sleepily sat up, yawning and taking the tray, carefully setting it on your lap. The smiling breakfast caused you to chuckle, making your son giggle to himself at his silly creation.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked, starting to cut into the pancakes. It was truly a surprise to wake up to them both wide awake by your side, especially with a cooked breakfast. Typically you were the first one awake but not today.

“We just wanted to do something special for you,” Michael shrugged, looking over at his son who was snuggled up in the blankets. He always loved cuddling in your bed with the both of you. “Right?”

“Yep,” your son happily agreed, nodding his head and reaching out for you, his small hand loosely grasping your shirt. He had a habit of holding on to you in some way ever since he was a baby. You dreaded the day he stopped clinging to you like that.

You happily ate your food, listening to your son explain the whole process of making it in every detail that he could. Michael sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard and his hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp. You felt like you were in heaven, being treated so well by your favorite boys.

When you were finished you thanked them for working so hard and Michael took the dishes to the kitchen, your son taking the opportunity to cuddle up to you. He rested his head on your chest, his small arm hugging himself to you. Michael returned to see the pair of you snuggled up to each other, slipping back in bed behind your son and slinging his arm over the both of you.

You could feel your son starting to doze off, rubbing your shirt between his fingers and letting all of his weight lay on you. Michael ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, a smile pulling on his lips.

“He was so excited when he woke me up this morning,” Michael said softly, looking up at you with those blue eyes that you loved so much. “It’s unbelievable how much he loves you.”

“You’ve been a good example,” you said, looking down at the sleeping boy on your chest, kissing the top of his head. “He has a good man to look up to.”

Michael leaned over your son, pressing his lips to yours briefly as he smiled gently. If you could stay in this moment forever you would. It was so simple but filled you with so much love.

“You gave me the greatest gift in the world,” Michael whispered, shaking his head in loving disbelief. You both treasured the boy who peacefully slept on top of you, resembling the both of you in your favorite ways. He was truly the embodiment of your love and you admired how perfect of a father Michael had become. You wouldn’t trade these boys for the world.

-

tags: @dudesorriso @silkyhoneybaby @avesatanaslangdon @moonagecordelia @lucifer-owns-this-pussy @sodanova @romanoffkittens @heelsamizayn @kaigitana @lovely-langdon @langdonpilots @cryptid-coalition @cherryberryann @omnipotentdemoness @marzipan-romanoff @featherpool-852 @langdonsdemon @slasherloversposts @lxngdonscoven @01-800-mary @mcenziehughes @kylolangdon

[lavieendonna]

It’s Whatever || l.h. one shot

Requested: YES! thank you anon x  Pairing: Luke + bestfriend!Y/N  Word count: 2.8K holy shit this is the longest thing I’ve written in forever  Summary: luke doesn’t stalk twitter as often as he should 

The rain pelted down on you as you ran down the street, jacket hauled up over your hair since you weren’t wearing a hat and it didn’t have a hood. You stopped at a red pedestrian light but looked both ways quickly before making a run for it anyway. The Starbucks you were meant to be at forty minutes ago was right up the street and you didn’t have time to stand idly in the rain for a total of zero cars to roll on past.

You were panting heavily when you finally crashed through the door of the café, but it only took a few moments and a quick glance around the place to realise that your friends had well and truly left without you. You checked your phone to see if anybody had messaged you, but you already knew before the screen lit up that they hadn’t.

You groaned (louder than you meant to) unsure if you were pissed or upset about it. All you knew for sure was that you were sopping wet, your freshly blown-out hair ruined and your supposedly “waterproof” mascara running down your face.

“I hate my life...” You huffed bitterly, letting yourself sink into an empty loveseat near the front window. You let yourself melt into the warmth, eyes closed and breathing still uneven.

“Hey… are you okay?” Someone near you asked carefully, and you frowned at the question with your eyes still closed.

“Fan-fucking-tastic. What do you think?” You snapped automatically.

“Uh… no?”

When you opened your eyes and sat your head up again a tall blond with a sheepish, pursed lip smile and bright blue eyes were staring at you pretty intensely. Your cheeks blushed as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

“Sorry...” You mumbled, sitting up awkwardly so you weren’t draped over the seat ungracefully anymore. “I… I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s fine.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I saw you run in, I just wanted to make sure you were… okay.” He offered another one of those awkward smiles and you rubbed the back of your neck, embarrassed.

“Ah.” You looked away as you flushed even pinker. “Yeah, that was… it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

You glanced back at the taller boy from corner of your eye, completely expecting him to wonder off in deep regret for even thinking of talking to a psycho like you. But he was still standing behind the seat across from you, something like sincerity deep-set in his eyes.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” He offered and a flicker of something fluttered in your chest. You squished it down quickly, though, biting your tongue and fighting the urge to just cry.

“It’s… no, no.” You shook your head. “I’m okay, I don’t wanna bother… you…?” The sentence came out like a drawled-out question as the blond just turned and walked off half-way through. Your bottom lip poked out in a rather childish pout as you watched his back seemingly float away. You gave another huff, sinking back into the cushions of the loveseat.

“Whatever.” You sighed. “Just my luck.”

You were about to gather your things to leave when He came back, side-stepping around the other seat before sitting down in front of you. He sat a silver table number onto the coffee table between the seats along with a plate with a piece of New York styled cheesecake and two cake forks.

“I got time.” He said with a smile, offering you one of the forks.

*  

“Luke. I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You said into the receiver. You were dressed to the nines in a pair of new ripped skinny jeans and a fire truck red strapless top that hugged your curves gently (but still left enough to the imagination). You switched the phone from one ear to the other as you heard Luke groan on the other end of the line.

“Y/N, can you just trust me? Please?” He begged you through a chuckle. You almost heard his eyes roll, right as you rolled your own.

“Why would I do that?” You shot at him as you saw the Uber pull up in front of your house.

“Uh, because I’m Luke fucking Hemmings, remember?” He said and you scoffed. “Hey, don’t scoff at me. That’s what you said at Starbucks.”

“Yeah – like two weeks ago!” You fired back. “Let it go already!”

“I will not, and you willhear about it for as long as you live.” He said matter-of-factly, not even bothering to let you retort this time. “Just, do this for me, okay?”

“Luke…” You sighed, slipping on your flats and grabbing your clutch and keys before stumbling out the door. “Luke, I really don’t want to meet your friends.”

“They’re not just my friends, Y/N.” He said.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re your bandmates– whatever.” You rolled your eyes again. “But what if they don’t like me?” You found yourself biting your lip as you pulled the seatbelt over your chest and smiling to the Uber driver who just nodded politely and started on his way.

“They will.” Luke urged you. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“If you say so.” You tell him, unconvinced.

*

“Y/N! Smile!” Calum wrapped his arms around your neck from behind you as Michael held the camera up in front of you both, giggling away like a child. You narrowed your eyes just knowing he was on snapchat.

“Jesus, Mike, what filter are you using?” You pulled a sidelong look and he laughed again as Calum let you go, sprint around the sofa so he could sidle up to the bottle-blond and look at the phone. Soon enough Calum was giggling too with his tongue peeking out between his teeth.

“Guu-uuyss!” You whined, expertly splitting the word into two syllables. “Don’t make me ugly!”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ugli-er.” Michael cackled, quickly ducking out of the way as you hurled the cushion you were using as a backrest at him.

“LUKE!” He yelled “Luke, she’s trying to kill me again!”  Michael pulled Calum in front of him to use as a human shield as you threw another pillow at him.

“Hey!” The brunet protested weakly through a laugh, so you threw one more cushion and hit him straight in the gut. He groaned loudly – louder than necessary – and you just laughed.

“Fuck you both.” You rolled your eyes before letting yourself fall back across the sofa, watching the rest of the boys run around with their drinks and their Snapchat while you relaxed.

*

“I believe a congratulation is in order!” Ashton practically bellowed, the words slurring just a little as he raised his red plastic cup in the air. Everybody followed suit with their various cups and cans of liquor, you and Luke looking at each other with arched brows before you looked back to the other tipsy Australian.

“Uh, why?” You laughed as Ashton trained his sights on you, and you flushed red as the other boys all turned to look at you too. It’d been weeks since you’d met them all and you thought maybe you’d get used to that after a while. But no, they were all still a little more than intimidating sometimes.

“Because!” Ashton proclaimed. “You have been in our lives for a couple of months now and as of last night – that we know of – you’ve been GIFed!”

“GIFed!” The other three shouted with their drinks in the air. Your eyes bulged, and your lips weren’t sure if they wanted to make an O or smile.

“I…? Uh, what?!” You stammered and everyone laughed while Calum handed you his phone. You took it quickly, eager to see what the fuck they were on about, and as soon as you turned the iPhone the right side up you saw he’d pulled up a Tumblr page.

Ashton was right. It was a GIF, mostly of Luke at first, but right near the end of the loop was you making a face before being kissed sloppily on the cheek. By Luke. Your cheeks flamed a burning red, eyes still wide as hell. The GIF was from a few nights ago at another one of your secret dance parties at Michael’s place. Calum had been doing one his rare Instagram livestreams and you didn’t realise that he’d caught that on camera. Inside, you were screaming.

But the guys were laughing and they seemed… proud. And happy. So, you let yourself smile and you drank to the toast – and then drank a whole lot more to drown out the memory.

*

‘@Luke5SOS come get ur shit from my house U prick im not doing your laundry’

You laughed at the tweet – it was supposed to be funny. It wasfunny. You knew he would get it.

There wasn’t a lot to get, the asshole really had left a small bag full of clothes at your house the last time he’d visited. Not for any reason, really, but in the months that you’d known him you knew that it was always bound to happen from time to time. He was a busy guy, and obviously you’d already cleaned it all. Shit-stirring was just your thing. Had been for, well, months.

Your phone started to vibrate violently on the kitchen counter a few minutes later, so you turned down the pasta on the stove and wandered over thinking it was Luke calling. The phone was flashing but when you picked it up, it was just Twitter. A lot of Twitter – too many to even count.

Tweet after tweet started rolling through and you frowned, confused. Ever since you’d met Luke you’d gotten used to a few mentions here and there and to the influx of followers on all of your social media accounts. But this was something different, something you weren’t quite familiar with.

You opened the app and your stomach sank as you immediately wished you hadn’t. They were hate tweets, flooding your mentions, all of them ranging from grammar Nazis to actual Nazis. You breath caught in your throat, fingers trembling so much that your phone actually dropped with a loud crackonto the tiled floor.

You knew that there were fans out there that weren’t overly happy with your presence in the lives of their Favourite Boys, but this was something else. Something you never would have thought would happen to you. You felt your bottom lip quiver and you couldn’t stop the small sob that slipped from your lips. Tears fell slowly down your cheeks, and for the first time in months, you were really glad that Luke wasn’t around.

*

“Y/N?”

The boys called for you as they filed in, this week’s secret dance party being held at your place. You jumped, surprised that they were here already. You weren’t expecting them for at least another hour, you hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. You were still sitting in your room in your bath towel, scrolling through your twitter feed.

You tried not to, especially after what had happened last week. And you did well for a few days, you just deleted the app and that was that. You couldn’t see the comments anymore so they couldn’t hurt you.

You just wanted to know if they’d stopped yet. You re-downloaded twitter to check and now, here you were, naked and trying to cover up the fact that you were crying again because you could hear somebody walking down the hallway towards your room.

“Y/N? You in here?” Luke knocked on the door but opened it up anyway, his sense of boundaries with you having disappeared weeks ago. You stumbled with your phone for a few seconds before you finally shoved it under your leg.

“Dude, what the fuck, I’m naked.” You shot weakly with an attempt at a frown. As soon as Luke saw you he frowned back, closing the door carefully and rushing over to you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, worry dripping from his tongue.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You huffed, shifting uncomfortably on the bed as Luke sat next to you with your legs touching. You tried to move over a little bit to create some space, but you knew your phone would slip out if you did so you just leaned away from him a little bit.

“Cut the shit, Y/N.” Luke said, hand already on your back, carefully placed on the towel instead of your skin. You sniffled and shook your head. “Y/N, what’s up?”

Your throat tightened and you knew that whatever you said next was going to be accompanied by more tears. It sucked. You hated feeling so vulnerable, especially in front of Luke.

“I just…” Your lip quivered and you bit it in an attempt to make it stop. You glanced up at Luke for just a second, but that was all it took to tip you over the edge. You let out a dark laugh as a few tears escaped down your cheeks.

“I feel like an idiot!” You practically wailed, throwing your hands into the air before burying your face in them. You sobbed more than you had before into your hands, letting Luke pull you to him so he could wrap his arms around you properly.

“Hey!” He said in your ear. “Hey, come on, where is this coming from?! You’re not an idiot.”

“I am!” You replied, the words muffled by your hands. Luke pushed you away, hands grabbing your wrists so he could pull your hands away from your face and look into your eyes properly.

“Y/N, stop.” He said carefully, not really scolding you but trying to get you to calm down. You were about to hyperventilate, chest heaving and breaths shallow. “Breathe, bub, come on.” He reached for your face, thumb brushing away new tears spilling over your lash line. “What happened?”

You took a few more seconds to take some deep breaths and steady yourself before you even tried to speak again. You wiped your nose ungracefully on the towel and sighed.

“I… I just feel like I should have seen this coming, you know?” You finally said, so quietly you were almost afraid he wouldn’t hear you.

“Seen what coming, Y/N?” He asked, a frown embedded into his brow. You looked up at him, almost in disbelief but mostly just questioning.

“As if you haven’t noticed.” You deadpanned and Luke just shook his head, still not following what you were trying to say. You took another deep breath and closed your eyes.

“I… I’m getting a lot of… comments made about me.” You finally said the words out loud and it felt like a big weight had already been lifted off of your shoulders. When you opened your eyes, Luke’s face seemed to fall even more. He didn’t say anything though, and a new panic started to rise in your chest as you wondered if maybe he was mad at you now. If maybe that meant you couldn’t be friends anymore.

“Shit, Y/N…” he said after what felt like forever. “Y/N… I’m so sorry.” You sniffed again but shrugged, turning your face away from him so he couldn’t see the new tears pooling in your eyes.

“It’s whatever.” You said nonchalantly, finally feeling just numb enough as you braced yourself for the worse.

“Don’t say that, Y/N.” He seemed to tell you off. “It’s not whatever, it’s fucked up.”

You just shrugged again.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s whatever.”You snapped your head back up to look at Luke and he was frowning again, this time seeming a little angry. “It was bound to happen eventually, alright.”

Luke sighed, arm slinking around your shoulders again. The skin of his wrist brushed your bare skin for a second and you got shivers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He said, softer now and pulling you closer so that you didn’t really have a choice but to rest your head into the crook of his neck. You gave a final heavy shrug and tried not to let the closeness between you fuck with your heart too much.

“I just… I thought I could handle it.” You told him, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

Luke pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you really hoped he couldn’t feel you flush pink.

“I want to worry about you, Y/N.” He said. “I care about you.”  

[sunnysidewrites]

Neighbor!Woozi

based on this post hehehe

i just fed yall TWICE. in the span of just 2 DAYS!!! AND THEY’RE BOTH MORE OR LESS THE SAME LONG ASS LENGTH!!! yeah that’s right i went overboard again gtg

happy happy bday to the lovely admin bee of @mansaeboysbe you are such a beautiful person inside and out, and im incredibly proud to know someone like you :’))) i’ve already sent a bday message to you so im not tryna redo it LOL but just know that i love you a whole lot and i always will! 💗💗💗💗💓💓 (she’s also the same person who gave me those beautiful headers on my mlist so please give her tons of love <333) love you sm hub hope you have a wonderful and fantastic day!!!

*to all the mutuals with bdays that have either passed or are coming up, i love you all SO FREAKING MUCH so pls dont feel left out!! it just so happened that i wanted to write this au for a long time and i wanted to present it as a bday gift for this jihoon stan hehe but i rlly love each every single one of u ok babes? <333*

warnings: i feel like i dragged this on for too long but i hope it’s still cute :’)) also i put in a joke like twice LOL anyways lil wooz only gets tongue-tied around you so you become his muse for songs

You were looking for a place to stay in bc “I am a grown adult i am not living with yall anymore” you @ your parents

And they’re like lol ok Good Luck Kiddo

After a month and a half of deeeeep searching you finally find a reasonably priced place to live in

It’s quite a distance from your parents’ home but it’s the point of you moving out to begin with

On the move-in day, you’re carrying your boxes up to your new apartment complex and you hear some tunes drifting from your next door neighbor

And you’re like hey this is actually really good music but i’ve never heard of it

You shrug it off and continue settling in

Once you finished hauling your boxes, you were about to pass out on your couch

Ok you actually did pass out on your couch

But you had to unpack some necessities later that night for bathroom and bedroom purposes

All you had for dinner was pop in some instant ramen and call it a night. You then hopped in the shower and got ready for bed

The following morning it was primarily you unpacking and shifting around your furniture a little but it was challenging by yourself

You were making a good amount of noise and in the middle of the day you were met with a very loud knock on your door

And you were in the middle of unpacking your kitchenware so you were like oh shoot ahh i’ll be right there!!

Little did you know your next door neighbor wasn’t having any of it

Can’t I get some peace and quiet around here? He grumbled as he impatiently waited for you to open the door

I swear, I’m gonna tell them off they won’t even knOW what will hit--

You finally opened the door, and he’s like oh. My gosh.

You had a few pieces of hair sticking to your forehead and your hair was tied back in a messy bun

You were dressed in a faded coral tee underneath a pair of worn-out denim overalls with house slippers

Everything he planned to complain about suddenly vanished and his first thought was:

“Is that Pikachu on your front pocket?”

Apparently he said that aloud, which he didn’t register until he saw you giggling

“Yeah, it was a hand-me-down! Still cute, right?”

And he’s kinda still just staring at you with his mouth slightly agape

And you’re like oh right ahem did you need anything?

That’s when he notices the utter mess behind you: plastic covering still over some of your furniture, half-emptied boxes littered in almost every inch of the floor, etc.

And that’s when it hits him: all that noise was you unpacking

“O-oh yeah, I just,, wanted to let you know that it was getting a little loud since I live right next door”

He silently curses at himself like i almost went off at my new neighbor rip that wasn’t gonna be a good first impression

Luckily for him, you were chill about it and you’re like omg sorry!!! It’s a little tough doing this by myself, sorry for the ruckus

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “do you need any help?”

Jihoon internally: u doofus u have an album to produce whAT ARE U DOING

Jihoon externally: i can help you :))) no matter how smol i may be

But that internal reprimanding melted away when he saw your eyes light up in relief and you’re practically bouncing up and down

“Would you, really??? It would be great if I had another hand around! Oh, but you’re probably occupied doing something, right??” and you feel bad that a stranger, your next door neighbor nonetheless, was about to abandon his work just for you

A cute neighbor, at that

Jihoon is like ok this is your chance to get away and go back to work cmon man

But there’s just something about you that pulls him in magnetically and he finds himself trying to reason internally that it’ll just be for a “few moments”

Yyyeaaahhh that doesn’t happen lmao rip Jihoon’s songs

Jihoon is just like “nah it’s fine I can help out for a bit” and you’re like god bless this human being

When you open your door further to let him in, he’s like oh right btw I’m Jihoon

“I’m y/n! Sorry about the mess, I only got here yesterday evening”

He shakes his head and quirks up his lips ever so slightly, “i remember when my place looked like this too except replace this space with music production things”

And you’re like ooOOoOoOO you make songs??? That’s amazing!!

And that’s when you got the ball rolling!!!

“A few moments” turn into hours and the next thing you know it’s dinnertime

“Oh crap sorry for keeping you for this long,,, those songs won’t produce themselves, right? I think I can take it from here”

Admittedly, jihoon didn’t wanna leave just yet bc he actually enjoyed your company and it was nice taking a break from staring at his screen frustratedly

“Well, I don’t mind helping out. I could show you my work one day if you want”

And you’re like holy cheeseballs yES

He starts getting up and brushing off his clothes and you’re a little sad that he’s leaving and he kinda is too :(

“If you’re not too busy tomorrow, you’re welcome to help me out more! I mean, you already helped me a whole lot today, but there’s still some things left to do”

As much as his brain is telling him to NOT DO IT,,,,

He does it

Next thing you know, jihoon is at your door again around the same time and he has something in his hand

As you let him inside, you ask him what it is and he’s like ;))))

“It’s a CD that compiled just a few songs I thought you might like”

And you’re #shook bc did he really just have a CD like this out in the open or did he really take his time yesterday to transfer songs on it??

“Do you have a player or a laptop?”

“Yeah, my laptop is on my bed, you can bring it out here!” You shout over your shoulder as you arrange your things in the living room

Shortly afterwards he emerges from the hallway and he presses a few buttons and clicks here and there and beautiful melodies ring out from your speakers

You can’t help but stop rustling to take in the sweet tunes and you’re just like :’))) have i heard anything so beautiful??? :’)))

One of the songs sound vaguely familiar and you realize it’s what you heard when you first arrived here

“Did you actually produce this??? This sounds like an actual song you can hear on the radio”

And he’s like yep made by yours truly!!!

He was only using “yours truly” half-metaphorically if you know what I mean ;)))

You keep bouncing to all the catchy tunes and swaying to the soulful ones

And in all honesty, seeing your reactions makes Jihoon feel really warm and even a little proud bc it’s one of the biggest reasons why he loves his job so much

He makes eye contact with you and you’re like :D and he’s like ahEM COuGh coUGh i’m gonna dust this shelf over here

He suddenly stands up and busies himself and you’re like ???? okie dokie

He’s a real help around the place and you’re practically done settling in

As you survey your fresh living space, you can’t help but feel a little…. Disheartened?

Bc it was actually really fun to have him around even while he made blunt remarks about your taste of decorations

“This looks like something my five-year-old niece would have”

“For your information, I got that from a five-year-old!! It’s cute, alright!”

You spent the past three days with Jihoon unpacking and talking about whatever comes to mind

Jihoon is pretty devastated that he has to go back to his makeshift studio in his room as much as he will never admit it

He eventually leaves your place and the both of you are just sad little puppies

From then on, every time you pass by each other, you greet him with a friendly smile and wave and you never fail to make his heart skip several beats

You don’t talk as much as how you first started bc he’s gotten much busier trying to mass-produce a lot of songs

For some strange reason, every time you hear a melody coming from the other side of the walls, you feel like you’re somehow connected with him

Well, except for the muffled cursing LMAO

And sometimes you would also hear several male voices at once and you’re guessing they’re his friends or the people he’s working with on the song, but based on their friendly banter and the constant run-throughs, it’s probably both

You would hear the same melody play over and over again, and you’re guessing he’s stuck on a certain part of a song as he tries to recreate new melodies from that point on

“aaAAGHGHHHGGHHHH” *deep sigh* me trying to overcome writer’s block LMAO

This would happen for about half an hour and you can’t help but wanting to reach out to him, but you’re not exactly the most musically-inclined person sadly

When he ultimately calms down, he goes back to working on the song until he finally gets the results he desires

More often than not, you fall asleep from hearing the slow ballads he creates with a smile on your face

Lil Jihoon does try to visit you and vice versa!! He sometimes shows up with random food and more CDs and you’re wondering just how many songs has this guy produced in his lifetime??? He looks around the same age as you but he’s probably produced 26+ songs by the way he packs a decent amount on each CD

Usually his excuse to sharing a meal with you is that “the guys brought over too much and i have a ton of leftovers that i can’t finish by myself”

In reality, he stared at a restaurant’s menu and contemplated for about twenty minutes about what you would like. This guy’s got dedication not just for work

“Would it be weird if i get fried chicken?? Maybe just a bowl of noodles?? What if soup is better??? It would give weird vibes if i bought drinks too, right?? Or should i just go ahead and buy them???”

Regardless of what he buys, you’re eager to eat anything and everything with your fav neighbor *wink wonk*

You feel bad when he would do that though, so you try to return the favor every so often as well

One time, you ordered some takeout but the servings were waaaaay bigger than advertised and you’re like Idea!! Let’s head over next door!! So you took the plastic bags and put in some drinks before heading out the door

You knocked on the door and that was when you heard light chatter on the other side of the door

You’re like sldjfljds i hope im not interrupting anything aaa mAYBE I SHOULD JUST LEAVE--

Too late, someone’s voice rang out “I’ll get it!” and next thing you know, the door swings out to reveal a face you’ve never seen before

“Oh, hi!” He says a little surprisedly but with a smile nevertheless

“H-hi, umm,,,, is Jihoon there?”

The guy is nodding his head in the direction of the back hallway, “yeah, he’s in the bathroom” and that’s when he looks down at your hands and his eyes instantly light up

“Omg did you bring food?? You’re so thoughtful!! Come in, come in!!” and before you could protest he literally drags you in and you’re met with a bunch of other strangers who are staring back at you like :oooo????

“Who’s this?? Jihoon never mentioned someone coming over today,, AND YOU CAN’T JUST DRAG SOMEONE IN THIS ISN’T YOUR HOME”

And you’re like ya i didnt know either lmao

You’re awkwardly shifting on your feet and praying jihoon will pop up instantaneously bc you’re gonna melt in embarrassment

“I just wanted to give him some of this,” you hold up your hands to gesture your food, “since it’s too much for me to finish on my own”

“Oh that’s cool! Some of the other guys are actually out to get more lunch, but food goes out fast with all of us here,” another guy says as he pats your shoulder reassuringly. “Well, since you’re already here, you can join us!”

“I-it’s ok! I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything, I just wanted to deliver this,,, I’ll get going” and you’re about to zOOM outta there but the same guy who ushered you in is like nO DONT LEAVE

“We’re taking a lunch break, so it’s cool if you join us! I’m Soonyoung” and he’s like :DDD and you’re just like ,,,, what a hyper guy but i like him

Everyone goes around to introducing themselves

you do a headcount of 8 and you remember there’s more guys getting food for them,,,, holy heck how many people do they have???? You’re about to introduce yourself after them but then

“Soonyoung, who was at the door--” a familiar voice calls out in the hallway before he emerges

And jihoon is like dsljLSJDF what the hELL

“Y/N??? What are you doing here???” *side eyes soonyoung*

And everyone’s making eyes at each other like waIT WAIT THIS IS Y/N???

“Soonyoung dragged me inside”

“Gdi soonyoung, how many times do i have to tell you that you can’t go around dragging people to join us???”

This guy who you think is named Seokmin pipes up, “yeah he does this all the time at our workplace too. A lot of our coworkers always end up extending their stay for far too long” and you’re nodding slowly like yeahhh i can see that happening

Soonyoung’s eyes are widened and he turns to jihoon like “is this the y/n that inspired your recent so--”

And jihoon is quick to cover his mouth so his voice is all muffled

“aHahaAHHAH soonyoung’s always the joker, april fools day!!! Let’s set the table, the others should be back soon”

jihoon whispering to soonyoung: you better sleep with one eye open tonight boi

And you’re like uhh alrighty :)))???

About twenty minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s another knock on the door

Soonyoung is practically bouncing on his way to the door and you can hear more unknown voices

They’re filing in and they suddenly stop and look at you like wait what

Them: :o????

You: :))),,, what up

Jeonghan briefly explains the situation to the guy who came in the door first and you’re lowkey intimidated bc he seems to be eldest and looks like he could beat you up to a pulp

BOY WERE YOU WRONG

After jeonghan tells him, he breaks out into this gigantic, cute gummy smile like welcome!! :DD i’m seungcheol! And the other guys behind him follow suit

Jeonghan’s like “this is,, y/n” and everyone tries to be subtle and nods like they didn’t hear jihoon babble on and on about you for weeks

You: ok why do yall act all weird when my name is brought up whAT DID JIHOON TELL YOU

Them: i would tell you but i don’t wanna die just yet sorry dude

Jihoon, somewhere in the kitchen: SET! THE! TABLE!

You end up staying there for a pretty long time, bonding over the whole feast you have and it’s really lively and fun, not to mention super loud with 13 guys in the same room,,, but you’re genuinely having a good time

Jihoon would glance at you nervously occasionally to check on you if you’re uncomfortable in any way

Jeonghan, who’s sitting next to him, notices jihoon’s eyes are practically glued to you and he’s like “is this the part where you confess your undying love and propose”

And jihoon is like shUT UP NO WHAT this chicken tastes great *quickly chugs down water*

You look back at jihoon sometimes and see he looks flushed but it’s not like he’s drinking alcohol

“Jihoon are you feeling ok?? Your ears are bright red” which obviously makes them redder rip

“I-i’m fine,, wow is it hot in here maybe it’s just the spiciness of the chicken let’s open the windows”

You eventually leave them as much as they protest and even try to get Jihoon to guilt trip you (unsuccessfully)

“Don’t leave just yet y/n!! You should stay, right Jihoon???”

“Huh?? O-oh yeah, I mean, you can if you want,,,,, we kinda need to work though”

Everyone’s looking at jihoon like bro wTF are u kidding me

Rip reader i can feel your heart drop :’(((

You’re feeling slightly dejected but you nod understandingly. You’ve already stayed far longer than you anticipated anyways, and work comes first for Jihoon

“Yeah, I totally get it! Good luck on the album guys!” You put on your shoes and close the door

When they finally hear your own door close, they’re attacking jihoon like

“SO Y/N IS THE ONE BEHIND ALL YOUR SAPPY LOVE SONGS HUH!!!”

“I knew it, the lyrics just suddenly got cheesier -- there had to be someone behind all of that”

And jihoon is just praying you won’t hear what they’re saying like “SHUT UP THESE WALLS ARE THIN”

Back at your apartment, it suddenly feels much emptier and lonelier

“What am i doing,,, I just met the guys for like two hours???”

You sigh and you try to busy yourself doing other things but you hear a loud commotion on the other side of the walls with just a bunch of incoherent shouting

You smile and laugh to yourself when you think about how close they all are

Your smile slowly fades when you start wishing you wanna be close to Jihoon and you’re like snAP OUT OF IT!!!

A couple of weeks pass by uneventfully but you notice that Jihoon has gotten more reserved around you

It’s just him being bashful around you and he panics every time he sees you but obviously he doesn’t want you to know that

You’re standing at your little mini balcony and admiring your cute little cactus plants

Just as you start thinking about him and his wellbeing, you hear your name and you’re like wHO’S THERE

You look down and see Jihoon staring back at you and honestly he looks like he’s awestruck by your whole beauty bc seriously everything you wear always looks super good to him

[insert photo]

(also pretend he’s holding plastic bags)

He holds up his hands and you’re laughing bc you know exactly what that means

“Come on up!”

There’s a knock on your door promptly afterwards and what do you know!!! It’s the man himself!!!

It’s just funny how the both of you have this ongoing routine that you know what to expect

When you let him in, he places the bags on your table and quickly smiles to himself when he sees your laptop on your bed

You and Jihoon both mindlessly do your respective roles as usual

He slowly comes out in the living room with your laptop and he’s like “so the album is pretty much done now,,, i can’t release all of the songs yet but there’s one i want you to listen to. I’ll show you after we eat”

You’re like ooo im excited and you start catching up with him as you’re eating

You can’t contain your excitement any longer, so as soon as you eat the last bit of your food, you’re like “oKAY SHOW ME IT NOW” as you’re restlessly shifting on your legs

He nods and pulls up the media player on your laptop. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before pressing play

It’s a melody you’re quite acquaintanced with after hearing it countless times at night, the same tune that lulls you to sleep

You have high expectations for this song, and surely he surpasses them with flying colors

You’re enjoying the song and telling him “wow this is a really good song!” when suddenly some lyrics catch your attention

You hear something about messy hair pulled back, ruffled clothes, eating meals

And you’re like huh that sounds a lot like us haha is that supposed to be me??

Jihoon is avoiding eye contact with you and looking down at his fidgeting hands as the song progresses in its later verses

The lyrics talk about wanting to develop a deeper relationship, one where “it’s okay to tell me anything, your hardships and desires. I just want to see you smile” and you’re like wait,,,,

And one of the final lyrics says something about “i can’t help feeling like this, will you accept my hand?” and you’re like wait wait w a i t

The song comes to an end and silence fills the room

You’re not sure whether you should speak up first or wait for him, but either way you’re speechless and wouldn’t know what to say anyways

Jihoon clears his throat awkwardly and stumbles on his words poor bby

“S-so, yeah,,,, I’ve been working on this one the longest,,,, umm do you,,, like it?”

But you know better that he’s not just talking about the song

“Nah sorry man i’m not interested”

“O.”

April fools kiddos ofc you are

“....yeah. I do like it”

And he finally brings himself to look at you and he’s like !!!!! really????

“Wait, for real??? You actually like it???”

He’s pretty much paralyzed in shock and all he can do is watch your hand move towards his and hold it

“I like it a lot, Jihoon :)”

He blinks slowly and he can’t fight the grin that spreads on his face as he grips your hand back

“I’m accepting your hand now heehee ^^”

“Okay let’s not talk about that”