#is this really how i’m spending the morning of my birthday so far?

[onlyswan]

i keep coming here to look at the drabble… more specifically that picture of jungkook like it makes me want to burst into tears of very very mixed emotions… oc was right. he is so outrageously, ridiculously sexy. and pretty. so pretty. :( i love him so

[starryjuicebox]

Pull My Strings

Pairing: (Soft) Ascended!Astarion x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1k Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Creampie. Fluff and smut.

Summary: A special day in your life with Astarion.

Another day in paradise—the sun kisses your pale skin as it greets the world in a dazzling hello. Beside you, your lover stirs, opening a bleary crimson eye. “Good morning, darling.” 

You run a hand through his soft white curls, laughing a little. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

While Astarion didn’t really “sleep”, over the many years you had been together, he seemed to have grown more relaxed in his trances with you by his side. 

Unlike you, he was still very much not a morning person; evidenced by his burrowing back underneath the cozy covers of your shared bed. You cuddle up to him, frigid skin absorbing the warmth from his body. Long since used to this behavior (though he had nearly jumped out of his own skin the first time you snuggled after his ascension), he wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on the top of your head. 

“It’s a special day today,” you tell him excitedly. 

He merely hums in response, stroking your hair. “Is that so? And what’s so special about today?” 

The nerve! How could he have forgotten? You stare at him, mouth open, before turning away. The two of you had lived together for so long, why had he forgotten this year? Throughout the millennia that you and Astarion had lived in Baldur’s Gate, you had witnessed the rapid advancement of technology and society. The world around you changed so much, but every year on this day, he always had something special planned just for you. 

Astarion’s hands come to rest on your hips, before pulling you flush against him. You can feel the hard outline of his length pressing into your clothed core. “My love, what’s gotten you so upset?” Astarion croons into your ear, grinding against you. 

Your lips curve downward into a pout. “I’m struggling to come up with an idea for my next book. I was supposed to announce the summary today.” 

That was only a half-truth. While inspiration did elude you for the time being, your lover’s ignorance was a far greater crime. You celebrated your birthday together every year, and yet Astarion seemed to have completely forgotten this time! 

“We could come up with some…ideas together,” his voice drips with honey as he pinches one of your nipples through the fabric of your nightgown. 

Frowning, you push his hands away and sit up. If he wasn’t going to celebrate your birthday with you, at least you could get some work done. That would mean spending your day productively, even if your stupid vampire lord husband had forgotten. 

Grabbing your tablet off the nightstand, you open a document and begin typing out some potential story threads in an impromptu brainstorming session. Sex pollen, maybe? Ugh, no. That one had already been done plenty of times. Beach sex? No thanks, just thinking about sand in your vagina made you cringe. 

“That’s a ‘big ass’ iPad, my dark consort,” Astarion says, interrupting your thoughts and looking over your shoulder to see what you’re doing. Though his speech and mannerisms did not change no matter how much time passed, you did try to do your part in teaching him the more…updated lingo. 

You stifle your laughter. “A present from you, two years ago.” 

A birthday present to be more precise. 

Despite your hint, Astarion the Ascendant Ignoramus does not seem to get it, and merely hums. 

You stare at the document. The mostly blank page stares back at you. 

“Fuck it,” you grumble, powering off the device. You couldn’t just will good ideas into existence, so you might as well get a start on the day. 

Heading over to the massive walk-in closet, you gasp as a beautiful ensemble greets you. A red and black corset dress paired with a puff-sleeved bolero jacket hangs neatly in front of the mirror. Both pieces are exactly your size, and have clearly been designed with you in mind. Matching platform boots with a silver bat accessory sit beside the outfit, and you scratch your head. How long has this been here? You call out over your shoulder, “Hey, when did you get this for me? I love it!”

“Anything for you, my darling,” comes his cool response. Your question remains unanswered.

“Well…thank you.” This was certainly a surprise, but since he hadn’t even mentioned your birthday, it surely was a fluke. Astarion often surprised you with random presents anyway. Once upon a time, the gifts had been difficult for you to accept, but over the years, Astarion had worn you down. Spoiling you was very much one of his love languages. There were never any strings attached, and no expectation of something in return. 

You try on the outfit, and it seems to have been tailored exactly for you. A very tiny ‘A.A.’ is stitched onto the inside, and warmth floods your heart. Astarion hadn’t just ordered the clothing for you; he’d made it. That made the present all the more special. 

When you walk over to the vanity, a brand new eyeshadow palette immediately catches your eye. Suspicion floods your mind. What is going on? The brand is one of your very favorites. Most of the palette consists of beautiful neutral colors that match most of the clothing you own, but there were also gorgeous duochrome shades as well. 

“Sublime, just like you, darling.” 

You whirl around to see Astarion leaning against the wall with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“What’s the occasion?” Did you dare to hope that he had remembered? 

“There has to be a special reason to give my treasure gifts she deserves?” 

The disappointed sigh in your throat is swallowed down. It wouldn’t be right to seem ungrateful, after all; these were really thoughtful presents. “Thank you.” 

Carefully fixing your makeup (and definitely indulging in the brand new palette), you turn to select your favorite perfume and gasp softly. An unfamiliar heart-shaped pink glass bottle only labeled “Little Love” grabs your attention. A soft voice whispers in your ear, “smeared lipstick and warm, flushed skin—vanilla, orris root, violet, sugar, cetalox, skin musk, and safraleine. Scents that remind me of you, my love. Go on, give it a try.” 

Spraying some on your wrist, you delicately sniff the concoction. “Oh!” It smells exactly as Astarion had described. You love it. 

“I made it; I really did miss my calling as a perfumer,” he drawls, examining his nails. 

“...Thank you.” You didn’t want to inflate his already massive ego any more, but these presents were really nice. It was also pretty strange that they appeared all at once. Did you just miss them before? That wouldn’t be possible, right? 

Dabbing the perfume on your other wrist, you carefully close the bottle and stand up to fix some breakfast. 

“No dry oats for you today, darling. I already have something just for you.” 

How had he reached the kitchen ahead of you? Astarion stands there, holding a massive cake, topped with a single candle. Three tiers of rainbow-flecked vanilla birthday cake, layers of creamy frosting and crunchy crumbs, each topped with rainbow sprinkles. It is absolutely ridiculous to just have between the two of you. But it’s your favorite, and you know he ordered it just for you. 

“Happy Birthday, my dear.” 

Your hands fly to your mouth. The silly man was just pretending he had forgotten all about your birthday this whole time? 

While you are busy contemplating how to both smack and kiss him at the time, he pulls you into his arms and sits down, placing you onto his lap.

“Open your mouth, little love.” 

Astarion cuts a slice of cake for you and feeds it to you. It tastes like a little piece of heaven. 

“...I thought you’d forgotten,” you admit, after swallowing the bite of cake. 

“Oh, you wound me!” He places a hand on his chest theatrically. “I would never forget such an important day.” 

You smile at him. Other than his nonchalant behavior earlier today (which had clearly been just to tease you), he was right; he had never forgotten any of your birthdays. 

After you finish the slice of cake, he places the rest of it into the refrigerator. “Now, pet, let’s play a little game.” 

“Oh? What game?” 

Over the course of the millenia you had been with him, there were all sorts of little games and activities you two had to keep things fresh and interesting. 

“You’ll try to chase me, and if you catch me…I’ll give you another present.” 

You nod. “It’s on, then.” 

This would be a breeze for you; you had always been faster than him to begin with. 

His lithe form shifts into one of a small black bat. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You cry out, as Bat-starion takes off flying back towards the bedroom. Keeping up is a walk in the park for you, but he stays just out of your reach. “Hey!!!” 

Pouting at him, you take a running leap and grab the bat with both hands, landing perfectly on your feet. 

“Gotcha.” 

Soft fur ripples back into warm flesh as Astarion returns to his regular form. “Well done, my dear. As promised…another present.” A pink candy is pressed against your lips, and you open them to taste the sweet and tangy flavor of berry lemonade… your favorite! 

Eyes widening, you look at him. 

“I did order several tubes of these, but I hid them around the palace. You’ll have to go find them yourself later. Now, there is one last present for you.” 

“What is it?” 

You had already gotten a new outfit, makeup, perfume, cake, and candy. What else could Astarion have possibly gotten you? 

“Me.” 

Stepping away from you with crimson eyes glinting, his pale fingers slowly unbutton his jacket. You don’t need to breathe, but find yourself holding your breath anyway. 

His jacket becoming a red and black silken heap on the carpet, Astarion then begins removing his shirt. Inch by inch, the smooth, pale chest you are all too familiar with is revealed to you. 

The dress pants are next. Astarion leisurely unbuckles his belt, before sliding the trousers down his perfect legs. 

“Precious thing; you always stare so eagerly,” he teases you with another smirk, palming his thick length through the fabric of his underwear. 

“Well, you are putting on quite the show. Now, are you going to give me my present, or do I have to take it myself?” 

He chuckles. “My, my. So impatient.” 

You cross the room to rest your forehead against his, before pressing your lips together. Sliding his hands into your hair, he deepens the kiss, before pulling away and gently nipping your bottom lip. “Good things come to those who wait.” 

“Well, it’s my birthday. And I want good things without waiting.”  

Closing the distance between you once more, you claim his lips in another kiss. 

The floor beneath you falls away as you are swept into his arms. “Oh, I can refuse you nothing.” 

He tosses you gently onto the soft bed. Astarion may be well-versed in keeping a cool and collected facade, but you’ve been his lover for over a thousand years. The man is just as eager as you are. 

Crawling atop you and capturing your lips in a searing kiss, he palms your breast through your clothing. You can feel your nipples stiffening, eager for his warm touch. Astarion kisses down your throat and chest, unfastening the corset along the way. 

He gently nips at your hardened peak with his teeth, before latching on and sucking hard. You moan, running your fingers through his soft hair as he moves onto the other nipple.

“Take me now,” you pant at him. He’s already made you wait for so long.   

“As you wish.” Moving back up to meet your lips with his again, deft fingers push your lacy panties aside. Astarion slides into you with one smooth, confident thrust. 

You groan in unison as he sets a punishing pace, likely in part caused by your impatience. Your walls flutter around his thick cock as he snaps his hips into you. Locking your ankles behind his hips, your nails dig into his back. Each thrust brings a familiar stretch, and you love every second of it. Your bodies slot together like perfect pieces of a puzzle, born from so many years of lovemaking. He knows your body as well as his own.

Reaching between your bodies, he rubs at your clit with practiced fingers. You’re close. So close. A spark of pleasure rising to dizzying heights. 

“Come for me.” 

You shatter. There is nothing but the wave of ecstasy washing through you. 

His hips stutter as he follows you with a groan. Warmth floods your insides as you lay there, panting from exertion.  

“Now let’s freshen up and greet the day, my love. Here’s to another year in our eternal lives.” 

You decide that tonight, you’ll go for round two. 

[maximotts]

18. “so perfect all tied up for me.” With your dollhouse au? I’m imagining those silk ribbon bondage rope not just tying you down but wrapped around you because Wanda thinks it’s such a pretty sight <3

I'm a different person posting this than I was yesterday when I started this fic... and then it got Deleted in drafts and I saw my life flash before my eyes. This is edited kinda, but honestlyyy I just needed to conquer it at this point lmao

please don't flag this fic, I have warnings clearly labeled

Doll House AU. masterlist. wc: 1.7 cw: 18+ only, please. smut, fluff. loose ribbon bondage. body worship. inspection. fingering (r receiving). oral (r receiving). size kink if you squint. overstim. mommy kink. snuggly aftercare. and then all the usual Doll House warnings.

Wanda and Doll spend an intimate afternoon in bed, Wanda perfecting her ribbon tying skills while judging your patience

⁛— 2nd birthday sleepover.

"There you go, all nice and pretty..." 

Silk ribbons adorned your figure, wrapping you like an extra present to Wanda, from Wanda. She'd spent the past hour fawning over you atop your plush bed, shedding your morning outfit only to replace it with buttery soft threads. "So perfect, all tied up for me."

It wasn't tight enough to restrain you really, if you truly wanted to wiggling away was an option— but you didn't want anything of the sort. Wanda's undivided attention was the best kind of afternoon you could hope for.

Curious as ever, you still had your questions. "Mommy, why aren't these tight?" 

Shrugging your shoulders showed off the little movement you could make, careful not to undo any of Wanda's hard work. The older woman laughed and kissed your hip above the ribbon she'd tied over your curves, amusement filled green eyes gazing up and instantly bringing a dopey smile to your face. "I don't want to tie you down, not today at least."

"Then what are we doing?" Oh you wished so badly you could reach up and kiss her, but your wrists tied at your middle stopped you from bending too far, again more fearful of messing up whatever goal Wanda strove for. 

And that was the most of what you were doing, Wanda testing your patience, whatever willingness you had to let your reverence of her outweigh your own desires... so far you were performing perfectly.

“We’re playing, of course. Silly thing,” Wanda sat up between your legs, crawling over your prone body until she could reach your neck for her next area of focus. It was an excessive show of possession, biting endlessly along your throat, leaving marks she'd be tending to for days after, relishing in how helplessly you squirmed under her; this could easily become her favorite afternoon playtime. "Aren't you having fun?"

Lithe fingers slid under the thick ribbons at your legs, playfully tugging just to hear your surprised squeak. Your legs fell apart with nearly no coaxing, Wanda’s fingernails scraping over your inner thighs just the way she knew you adored. Small shivers rattled your body as best they could within your restraints, ever conscious of leaving them in place, and the moment she laid eyes on your glistening sex she remembered why she’d decided to keep your lower limbs tied separately. 

“I asked you a question.” The only answer she received was your meek nod, an action that resulted in a faux pout from Wanda, more concerned with how often you forgot you were allowed to speak now rather than whether or not you were truly enjoying yourself. That much was evident.

“It sure looks like you’re having fun,” Spreading your folds apart was just as easy as your legs, leaving you completely vulnerable to Wanda’s impromptu inspection. No matter how long you stayed with her, there was a persistent shyness about you, but your longing for your mommy’s approval always won out. It would be so easy to uncurl your hands where they rested bound together a mere few inches above Wanda’s, to push her away and cover yourself… but you didn’t— just as Wanda expected of you.

Today’s obedience earned you a reward, but Wanda wouldn’t spell it out for you, preferring instead to continue her game of testing self-restraint. It was better to train you into behaving even without possible reward, no matter that she already spoiled you rotten every chance she got. Two wet digits left their examination and came to settle on your waiting lips, your patience forced but steadfast. “Say please.”

“Please mommy, may I clean your fingers?” The drawn out please was so adorable Wanda wanted to suffocate you, but instead she sated herself with your grateful sigh around her, your tongue diligently licking until she drew them away. 

Her hand came back to settle between your supple thighs, fingers sliding easily through your sex, knuckles just barely grazing your clit. Curious fingertips fell down to your entrance, gathering warm wetness from where you were dripping and bringing them to her own mouth this time. She always wondered if you knew how desperate she was to have you, but one look down at your dazed expression answered that for her easily. “Did my playtime make you all icky? Do I need to clean you up?”

Admittedly, the past hour of Wanda’s gentle touches, sweet words and even sweeter kisses left your brain fuzzy. The tingling in the pit of your stomach had grown into a calm and pleasant ache, much gentler than the gnawing, desperate clawing that plagued you whenever Wanda was rough. Sometimes she left you at that painful edge, frustrated to no end and chastising any complaints she caught. Today if she’d left you with nothing, maybe you’d be able to manage the evening with dull nagging, but the notion of an orgasm at the end of your slowly building high was too tempting to pass by; you had to make your need known. “Make it better, please… want it so bad.”

“So now you speak up, whenever you need something from me…” Wanda took her sweet time traveling down your front, lips brushing over every curve and divot so that when she finally placed one last adoring kiss atop your mound, anticipation buzzed through your veins. “You can cum as much as you’d like, but don’t you dare untie yourself.”

Sometimes Wanda’s rewards were straightforward, a simple start and finish before she sent you off. Surprisingly, you preferred rewards you worked towards together, ones like these where her tongue drew intricate patterns over your clit, teasing and testing just how far gone she could pull you while you remained committed to following her rules. It was harder than it looked, knowing you had the ability to twist and turn with every perfectly placed stroke, but willing your body to stay confined, to preserve Wanda’s ribbon-tied handiwork. 

Thankfully they allowed space for the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the clenching of your core as the first wave of orgasm washed over, knocking your head back into your plush array of pillows as you erupted into a fit of moans and pleas. “Mommy.. Mommy, please.. again! Wanna cum again-”

“Such a needy doll, so pretty all tied up for me and begging for my mouth.” It was a brutal inner battle to keep from bucking your hips, fingers fidgeting at your midsection to keep busy in anything other than Wanda’s hair. When she descended again it was all worth it, warm mouth suckling at your swollen bud to distract from the three fingers prodding at your hole. 

The stretch was maddening, an instantaneous full feeling sending you over the edge again before Wanda even got the chance to move. She groaned around you as she felt your walls clench, free hand coming to wrap securely around your upper thigh; instinct drove you to back away from the thick intrusion, but she couldn’t have any of that. “Shh, sweetheart, let mommy play a little longer.”

“O-Okay..” Your previous pleasant need evolved into something more, something starved within that only reared its head when Wanda’s intentions turned heady. Careful not to toss around too much, you relaxed as your thoughts settled into a low hum, taking every thrust and each curl of her fingers until individual orgasms merged to one neverending bliss.. you’d lost count after three anyways.

After some unmeasured amount of time, Wanda granted you a reprieve, leaving you dreadfully empty and weakly clenching around nothing. You felt limp head to toe, unable to even raise your arms without Wanda’s help as she worked to slowly unwrap you. She took her time so as not to startle you, smoothing over any tiny indent her ribbon left from your movements and doting on it with a cautious rub of her thumb. 

Once she was done, she was genuinely surprised you hadn’t dozed off; the act of overstimulation alone was occasionally enough to leave you napping for hours. But today heavy eyes lazily followed her every move, bottom lip quivering more visibly by the second. “You did a wonderful job today, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise was much appreciated as always, but you’d been missing one thing terribly since Wanda had first given the instruction to lay back while she unfurled her ribbon and tired as you were, you needed one last clarification. “Can I touch you now, I want a hug…”

“Of course, we’re long past our game.” You were in Wanda’s lap after the second word, curling into her and wrapping your arms around her middle in the tightest hug you could muster. Any time she searched your thoughts, they were full of her, the urge to be near her so strong Wanda was surprised whenever she got a moment to herself these days. 

It was the sweetest form of devotion she could imagine, the pure need to keep her presence in whatever capacity; your lovey ways never failed to render her heart gooey. “That’s why you were so pouty just now, my poor little snugglebug.”

Giving your tummy the gentlest tickle before drawing the sheets closer, Wanda scooted you both until she could lay you down; not that the position mattered much when you stayed attached at the hip. Content little noises rumbled against Wanda’s arm as you made them, keeping still even as you craned your neck to cover her cheek in appreciative smooches. “Nap with me, mama. I’m sleepy.”

“If you insist,” Now it was Wanda’s turn for restraint. It’d take little to no effort to pull herself from your grip even without her powers; there were a myriad of things waiting for her to do downstairs… but she stayed put. The desire to see your smiling face when you woke up in a while, ever excited to wake up in her arms, far outweighed any living room cleaning.

[withacapitalp]

Starry, Starry Night Pt 1

Happy birthday dear friend!!! @thefreakandthehair Lex you are a pillar of the fandom, an amazing writer, and just all around one of my most favorite human beings. I'm so so lucky to get to call you one of my best friends and I hope this fic puts a smile on your face!! @stevethehairington and @hbyrde36 thank you for betaing and for encouragement!!!!

Read it on ao3 instead here

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

Steve was asleep at the counter. 

Again. 

Robin placed another VHS precariously on the top of the pile surrounding him, making sure to adjust it so it wouldn’t fall. A copy of Secret Admirer had toppled down half a dozen boxes when she placed it without care earlier, and Steve had almost woken up just from the sound. She had worked her way through all of the romantic comedy returns and was halfway through the horrors already, and the pile was up to Steve’s waist. 

Her working theory was that she would be able to get all the way through the action movies before Steve was completely covered in tapes. 

Part of her wanted to feel at least a little bad for fucking with him every single time he fell asleep. After all it wasn’t like Robin hadn’t fallen asleep on the job herself once or twice, and Family Video wasn’t exactly the hardest job in the world. Now that they lived in a veritable ghost town, the store was lucky to get even a handful of patrons every day. 

Apart from her own boredom, there wasn’t really any reason to mess with him or try to wake him up. 

But there lay the crux of the problem. Robin and Steve had gotten their jobs as one so they could spend time together. Not so Robin could get stuck watching her best friend drool on the counter she would inevitably be forced to clean before they closed tonight. 

So, tape fort. 

Robin’s theories were almost immediately dashed though, because just as she placed her fourth copy of Rosemary’s Baby down, Steve stretched out his arms, knocking directly into the wall in front of him and bringing that entire cluster of VHS cases down on his head. 

“Ow! What! Why?!” Steve shouted, jerking upwards, startling as the rest of the tapes surrounding him began to tumble to the floor. 

Robin snickered to herself as she watched the melee, hopping up onto the counter next to where he had been lying his head and beginning to gather up the failed remnants of her experiment. 

“Good morning Dingus,” She sang, lightly tapping him on the top of the head with Ghostbusters, “Did you have a good rest?” 

“Robin,” Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands and heaving an absolutely ginormous sigh, “Why?” 

“Hey, this is your fault,” Robin protested, putting the stack of tapes to the side and sliding to the floor to start grabbing the rest. 

“My fault?” Steve repeated, sliding his fingers away from his eyes so he could glare at her while still hiding his face. 

“This is the fifth time you’ve fallen asleep on me this week, Dingus,” Robin said, giving him a look as she waved a VHS around her head, “Look at this place. Look at how boring it is. I need enrichment, I’m like a tiger in a zoo.”

Steve lowered his hands, raising a brow and silently judging her for a second before grumbling and joining her on the ground.  

“What? Was making paper clip crowns and hiding M&Ms in my pockets not enriching enough anymore?” Steve asked rhetorically, referencing the other things she had done this week during his impromptu naps as he collected the rest of the rom-coms. 

“Nope.” She replied, popping the p as she stood, tapes in hand, “Five times, Stevifer. Five.” 

“So?”

“So, it’s only Wednesday!” Robin shouted, walking around the counter and towards the shelves, knowing Steve would be following close behind with his own stack. “Is Eddie really still that excited about getting you in his bed every night?”

“You would be the first person to know,” Steve said, wagging his eyebrows and looking far too smug for Robin’s tastes. 

That much was true. Steve told Robin everything. What he had for breakfast, any weird customers that came in while she wasn’t scheduled, the stupid things the kids said, and, to the chagrin of both Eddie and Robin, anything and everything to do with his sex life. 

And god damn it did her best friends have a lot of sex. 

“Okay, so it’s not Eddie keeping you up,” Robin said, a small pit beginning to form in her stomach. She had hoped it was just them fucking like bunnies and Steve needing to recharge during the mornings, but now she was pretty sure it was the other thing, and that was a lot worse. 

There was no quick fix for that particular problem. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Robin asked softly, turning towards her best friend and trying to be as gentle as allowed. 

“Not really,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on the shelves and avoiding her gaze.

Okay, so not gentle. Trying to get Steve to open up was a weird careful tightrope walk between being gentle enough to lower down his guard, while also being firm enough that he didn’t feel like he was being treated like a child. So far Robin was the only one who managed to succeed most of the time, but even she stumbled on occasion. 

“You know I don’t mind covering for you, but you can’t keep this up, Dingus,” Robin tried, nudging their shoulders together as she did, hoping that a little extra physical contact would open Steve up even more, “It’s not healthy, and they’re not worth it.”  

Wrong thing to say. It was like she could physically see the walls coming back up around him. 

“I’ll be fine, Robin,” Steve said, the forced nonchalance in his tone hurting her almost as much as it was definitely hurting him. 

“You’re not sleeping again,” She stated plainly, putting it out there for both of them to see. Steve flinched at her words as if she had physically struck him. 

“I’m just…still adjusting,” He tried. 

Adjusting was still figuring out how the oven worked at Eddie’s new trailer, or trying to find the best routine for sharing the bathroom in the morning. Adjusting was planning work schedules, learning how to live together, becoming used to each other's rhythms. 

Whatever was happening here wasn’t adjusting. 

“Steve, It’s been almost a month since…” Robin started, trailing off as she tried to find the right words to help him. 

Steve already had them. 

“Since what, Robin? Since my parents kicked me out?” Steve interrupted, his voice hard and angry as he forced himself to meet her eyes, as if challenging her to try and find a kinder way to say it. 

That wasn’t a challenge she was planning to take on. There was no making this better. 

“Yeah, since your parents kicked you out,” She repeated, refusing to meet his level of emotion, knowing that would only make Steve even angrier. Sure enough he pushed away from her, stalking over to the counter and furiously punching returns into the computer, a storm cloud of rage swirling around him. 

“Steve-”

“God Robin, will you just drop it?!” Steve snapped. 

Robin leaned ever so slightly back at his sudden shift and Steve let his eyes slip shut, hanging his head low and taking a slow deep breath. The anger drained from his face, leaving behind only barely there frustration, and a longing that his parents didn’t fucking deserve from a son that was far too good for them.

It wasn’t exactly a shock when Richard and Diane showed up and told their son to pack his shit and leave, but that didn’t make it any less painful for Steve. Robin had never had any faith in them, but for some reason Steve did. He expected his parents to love him just as much as he loved them, and he had deluded himself into thinking that they had only ever done the things they did to try and make him better. 

Letting go of that couldn’t be easy, but it was also one of the few things about Steve that Robin felt she would probably never fully understand. 

“Please.” Steve whispered, Robin’s heart breaking at the pain in his voice, “I just don’t wanna talk about it, Bobbin.” 

Rather than answering she rounded the counter, pressing her body into his side and leaning her head against his shoulder. Steve adjusted to fit her automatically, two becoming one as she let Steve breathe into the pain instead of ignore it. 

“Were you at least having a good dream?” Robin asked, her voice slightly muffled by the soft sweater Steve was wearing, wishing she had a way to help him. 

“Oh yeah, it was great,” He said with a soft laugh, “I was lying back on a mountain of pillows while Eddie was using his massive thick-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll be forced to smother you next time you fall asleep at work,” Robin groaned, sticking her tongue out and gagging as she pushed Steve away from her. She hammed it up for extra effect, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her lips as she listened to Steve’s laughter. 

He hadn’t laughed as much in the last few weeks, and Robin hadn’t realized how much she missed the sound. It reminded her of everything good, all the stuff they hadn’t really been able to do since he moved in with Eddie. Burning breakfast together, dancing around the house in their socks, even trying to muffle their giggles in her bed so they wouldn’t wake her parents, looking through the skylight that was above her bed at the stars…

Huh. Maybe she did have an idea of how to help. 

“Now that you’re awake, I’m going to take my break,” Robin said in a faux casual tone, stretching and trying to hide the Cheshire cat grin overtaking her face. 

“You built a tape fort around me because you were annoyed I fell asleep and you were alone, so the first thing you do when I wake up is go hide in the back alone?” Steve complained, turning back to the computer and restarting the returns he had begun. 

“Love you too,” Robin said, pecking his cheek as she practically skipped towards the breakroom. She closed and locked the door, pressing her ear to it for a second just to make sure Steve wasn’t eavesdropping before almost bolting over to the phone in the corner, punching in the number for the Thatcher’s Tires and bouncing in place as she listened to the dial tone. 

This was a great idea. One of her best. 

“Hey Pete, it’s Robin. Can you put Eddie on the phone?”

Part two is coming tomorrow!! If you want to be tagged say it in a reblog!!

[i-hate-people-1]

~Mid to West~

Eddie Munson x Henderson reader road trip AU

Pairing:Eddie Munson x Henderson reader

Warnings:none

Words: 1,800

A/N: Had this idea a while ago finally decided to write it down.

Dustin wanted something; you knew it. He’d been doing your chores, letting you use the bathroom to get ready in the mornings without complaining, letting you take the first shower, folding your laundry, which he knew you hated doing.

You hadn’t said anything, not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. However, it finally came to a head when Dustin came into your room with this morning tray in hand (the one your mom always used to bring you breakfast in bed on your birthdays or when you were sick). a bowl of honey nut Cheerios, a glass of orange juice, and a bowl of mixed fruit sit on top of it.

“I made you breakfast,” he said as he walked to you.

You gave him a strange look as he sat it on your nightstand. It was the weekend, so you had just been lounging around reading your new book since you woke up. “Why?” You finally asked, sitting up against your headboard, taking the food and starting to eat, still looking at him quizzically.

“What can’t a little brother just do something nice for his older sister, whom he loves so much?” Dustin defended unconvincingly.

"Yeah, they can, but you don’t,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Come on out with it, shitbird, you wait much longer. I’ll have finished my food, and you’ll have to wait till you can make a whole other meal,” you joked, popping a grape into your mouth.

"Alright, fine,” Dustin sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I do want something, and I want you to really think about it before you say no.” He trailed off, avoiding your gaze.

“Okay?” You egged, kicking his shoulder lightly, ready for him to get on with it.

"Well, you know how summer break starts next week, and I’ve outgrown science camp, and there’s no way mom would let me fly. You know how much planes scare her, and Susie’s parents wouldn’t let her either, but Mom would probably let me if you went to and drove me." Dustin paused, seeing the confusion on your face. “Would you take me on a road trip to Utah to visit Susie over the summer? Well, not the whole summer, but while it’s happening." Dustin finished rambling, looking at you hopefully with his best puppy dog eyes.

"Ugh,” you groaned. "Really, Utah, come on, it’s like the asscrack of America.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s Florida.”

“I don’t even have a car; how are we going to get there?” You asked, both loving and hating, the way your little brother's eyes lit up.

“Don’t even worry about that; I’ve got it covered. Is that a yes?” He asked far too excited at 8:30 in the morning.

“It’s a yes if you can find us a car and somehow convince Mom to let us go,” you told him, condescendingly.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you; you're the best sister ever!” Dustin exclaimed, hugging you tightly.

"Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes as you tussled his hair. “I know, and don’t you forget it.”

***

That’s how Dustin found himself here, cleaning up after hellfire, about to ask Eddie if he’d be willing to drop his summer plans to drive him and his sister to Utah so he could see his girlfriend.

By some miracle, Dustin had convinced his overprotective mother to let him go, and Eddie was the last piece of the puzzle. Well, at least his van was deciding that even if it wasn’t the most reliable, it was the most spacious, meaning you’d have to spend less money on motels along the way, and you could fit more people, Lucas and Steve, on the top of his list to invite once he got the older boy to agree to this somewhat questionable plan.

“You’re oddly quiet, Henderson. What’s going on in the ginormous head of yours?” Eddie asked teasingly as he packed up his dice and began sliding his books into the book bag he’d had since his freshman year.

“What are your plans for the summer?” Dustin blurted it out, unable to keep it in any longer.

"Umm, I don’t know. Maybe plan a new campaign. I'm going to try to deal at some of the parties and make some extra cash. You know, I really enjoyed my last summer before I’m hurdled into a life of adulthood,” Eddie said, shrugging and throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic about finally graduating, but now I have to actually grow up. It's a bummer." Eddie sighed jokingly, getting ready to lock up. They had one more hellfire meeting before school was over; it was all oddly emotional for him.

“Well, how fun does a road trip to Utah with your favorite little buddy sound for summer plans?” Dustin propositioned himself, smiling hopefully at him.

“Like actual hell,” the older boy deadpanned, walking out of the old drama room.

"Oh, come on, please, it’ll be fun, I promise, and me and Y/N really need your van,” Dustin pleaded, following after him.

“Y/N will be there?” Eddie asked, stopping in his tracks and smiling brightly when Dustin nodded. "Well, why didn’t you say so sooner? Utah sounds great!” Eddie exclaimed.

"Really, you only want to go for my sister?” Dustin asked with mock sadness in his voice.

“No Dustin I only want to go for your hot sister,” Eddie paused, laughing at the way Dustin’s nose wrinkled in disgust at his words. "Besides, you only want me to go for my van,” Eddie pointed out as they began walking to the parking lot.

“Fair enough,” Dustin shrugged, walking beside him.

“So where’s Utah, like Canada or something?”

“Oh my god,” Dustin mumbled, shaking his head, already regretting asking him to come.

***

After a week of anticipation a graduation ceremony where you, Robin, Eddie, and Nancy walked the stage and a lot of time spent making Eddie look at a map, it was finally time for your trip to begin. Dustin had been practically bouncing off the walls all morning, and he was excited to spend what you had calculated to be almost 23 hours in a car, not including stops.

Somehow, you ended up with six people coming on your little road trip: Eddie, Dustin, Steve, Robin, and Lucas.

Lucky for you, the Wheelers already had plans to visit the Byers, so you didn’t have to shove two more in there, and Max was going to summer camp.

You could practically hear when Eddie pulled into your street loud vehicle blasting music and erratic driving, doing nothing to keep him stealthy.

“Are you sure you guys really want to go?” Your mother asked you for the hundredth time. “Maybe you should stay.”

Dustin threw his head back, dramatically letting out a groan. “Come on, Mom, we talked about this. We’re going to be fine. You’ve got to give Dusty Buns a little freedom, plus I’ll be with him the whole time.” You paused walking over to Dustin, who was giving your mom puppy dog eyes, pinching his chin in between your fingers. “Besides, who could say no to this face?” you coed, knowing that as overprotective as she was, she had a hard time telling him no.

"Okay, okay, just be careful and call me,” she conceited, pulling you both in for a hug that you gladly returned as Eddie stopped his van. “I love you both; be careful,” your mom said, finally heading inside after one more hug for the both of you.

"Alright, come on guys, we’ve still got two more stops,” Eddie yelled from the van.

“Come on, DustyBuns, your damsel awaits,” you said, ruffling his hair and walking to the van.

***

After a few hiccups, I.E. Steve packing everything he owned you were finally on your way out of Hawkins Eddie driving you sitting shotgun with Dustin Steve Robin and Lucas in the back.

“I can’t believe this was the best way to spend my summer,” Robin groaned.

"Oh, come on, you guys, stop acting like we’re not going to have a blast,” Dustin said. "Besides, we’re already out of Hawkins, so you’re stuck,” he told you guys, mockingly pointing at the leaving Hawkins/Hell sign.

“Oh yeah, I guess we are,” Eddie said, distractedly casually flipping the bird to the sign as you passed it. “I guess you can probably come out now, red,” Eddie said, making everyone look at him in confusion.

“Finally!” You heard making all of you jump and shriek as you saw a figure jump out of the pile of blankets sitting in the corner of the van.

“Maxine Mayfield, what the fuck are you doing here?!” Steve yelled, clutching a hand to his chest.

"Yeah, she’s supposed to be at summer camp,” you scolded, seeing the smirk grow on Eddie’s face.

"Oh, come on, sweetheart, I couldn’t let one of my sheepies rot while we had all the fun,” he said, wiping the smirk off his face to pout at you comically.

"Yeah, Eddie was just helping me,” Max said, working her way to the front of the van and joining Eddie in looking at you pitifully. “Please don’t tell my mom I want to spend the summer with you guys.”

"Yeah, come on, doll, can we keep her?” Eddie asked hopefully.

"Yeah, let her stay,” Dustin and Lucas said, joining the side of Eddie and Max.

"Yeah, come on, we could use another girl." Robin joined in, leaving only you and Steve.

“Aww, what the hell, yeah, let’s let her stay,” and now you’ve lost Steve too.

“Please?” Max said one last time you looked at the whole van teaming up on you, eyes wide and sad as they waited for your answer.

And you almost held your ground until you looked at Eddie, his big brown eyes peering into your soul. His bottom lip jutted out.

"Fine,” you sighed, making the whole van erupt in cheers.

“Thank you, thank you,” Max said, hugging you.

“You’re really the best!” Dustin Lucas Robin and Steve all cheered one after the other as they went to talk amongst themselves, happy to have added a member to the group.

“Thank you, you’re my hero, princess." Eddie’s words caught your attention, finding his eyes already on you and smiling brightly.

"Oh, shut up,” you laughed, rolling your eyes as your face flushed at the nickname “And look at the road before you kill us all.” You finished pushing his chin to make him look at the road as you both laughed.

“Alright, road trip, baby, let’s go!” Eddie yelled, making the van erupt in cheers once more. You joined them this time, happy to be spending the summer with people you cared about.

Boy, were you guys in for it…

[deathbecomesthem]

Chapter 1 - Study Buddy | 1.6K

My So-Called Hawkins

An introduction to a MSCL Stranger Things AU. This reader is heavily inspired by Angela Chase's personality, and Eddie Munson is our Jordan Catalano. I'm taking it back to high school, where all the feelings feel so very much.

Reader's Journal Entries - Invisible and Pencil

Fem!Reader x Eddie Munson

Every day is the same, and I wonder if there’s a point. Even if there is, I’ll probably never find out what it is. I remember thinking that when I got to this age, I’d be someone. I’d understand things enough to feel like I have a place. Like, did I miss something important? I don’t cheer, I don’t act, I don’t sing, I don’t play the flute - god I can’t believe my parents let me get this far without making me do something. Be someone. 

Maybe it’s easier this way. Dad thought it was weird that I dug out his old flannel shirts from the basement last week, that I wear them to school. He thinks it’s weird that I spent my Christmas money on boots when they buy me perfectly good sneakers whenever I need them. I asked mom if I could get my nose pierced for my birthday. She laughed and shook her head. “You’re so pretty, why would you want to scar your face like that?” She has no idea. I’m not pretty. I’m boring. No one sees me. 

-

You went to the mall with Robin over the weekend. There’s not much else to do in Hawkins. Not much else to do anywhere, really. Babysitting for the Johnsons has been good for pocket change, enough to get a slice at Sbarros at least. Plus, maybe you’ll have enough for a new lipstick. You’ve been thinking about that for a while, seeing if something other than the peachy shade your mom bought you would look like on your face.

You’re staring at the mirror and considering your raisin stained lips, wondering if there’s any point in matching the worn brown and beige flannel with any makeup at all. You think of Chrissy Cunningham and her cute-as-a-button smile. How flawless she looks in that fluffy rose pink sweater she wears so often. That’s part of it, you know. The things that make the other girls look so gorgeous make you look wrong. Make you feel like crawling out of your skin. You envy Chrissy and Heather, the way they effortlessly move through the world.

You sigh and grab a handful of toilet paper, roughly wiping off as much of the lipstick as you can before heading downstairs. Your stomach is in knots, thinking about seeing Eddie this morning. Seeing him standing outside of the back entrance of JCPenney with Gareth and Jeff on Saturday afternoon felt surreal. You could feel his eyes watching you make your way back to your car with Robin’s hand in yours. 

“Who’s that?” You heard one of the other guys say. You’d waved to him, like an idiot. Like it was a normal thing to do. Eddie didn’t wave back. You heard his voice, though. 

“Uh, she’s in one of my classes.” 

He probably doesn’t even know my name, and I waved at him.

You push the memory aside and run down the stairs while saying a silent prayer that no one will be in the kitchen when you skate through it. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want the silent judgment from your parents about your chosen outfit. You just want to walk out the door, get in your car, and drive. Hurry up and get the day started so you’re closer to the end of the thing. It’s a short week, only 2 days of school with an extra long weekend. Blessed relief. You’re already planning to spend the intervening days at the Buckley house where no one seems to care if you eat the allotted portion of vegetables on your plate or dye your hair black.

“Woah, slow down there, Pumpkin.” You nearly walk straight into your father as you round the corner. In your attempt to avoid him, you catch your hip on the faux marble island. His hand steadies you.

“Shit, oh, I’m sorry.” You can feel your skin heat up, and hope he lets the slip of your tongue pass without comment. “I just don’t want to be late.”

“You won’t be late. Sit down for a minute, eat something.” His words aren’t a suggestion, so you perch yourself on the edge of one of the stools at the island and grab a banana. Your stomach flips at the thought of trying to eat it, so you stand.

“I’ll take it with me. I need to go pick up Robin.” You stand on your toes to leave a kiss on your dad’s cheek. Something you’ve done every morning for as long as you can remember. 

“I don’t understand why Robin needs you to pick her up, she lives 2 houses away. It’s a 10 minute walk to school, you don’t even need to be driving.” 

You push your feet into your boots by the back door and throw a wave back at your dad. You opt to tie the laces in the car, not letting the old man get into a groove with his chosen complaint for the morning. You’re just glad your mom left early today, her car is already out of the driveway. Maybe she has an early showing.

There’s only a hint of light in the sky when you pull your car into the Buckley’s driveway. You kill your headlights, Mrs. Buckley’s been working thirds and you don’t want to wake her up if she’s already in bed. Robin comes bounding down the stairs of her house zipping her bookbag, a piece of toast in her mouth. Her sweater is inside out.

“Your sweater is inside out,” you tell her before she even rests her full weight on the passenger’s seat.

“Oh, shit. Goddamnit. Just drive, I’ll fix it on the way.”

“Better do it quick, unless you want to give a free show to everyone heading to Hawkins High this lovely winter morning.” You tell her, throwing the unopened banana into the backseat of your car where it will inevitably be forgotten until it’s rotten and mushy.

Robin’s arms flail while she makes muffled annoyed sounds. You hear the occasional crunch of her toast while she fumbles with the sleeves of her oversized fluffy sweater. “I think I’m, shit, my earring, I think I’m gonna talk to Munson about buying some weed for this weekend.”

You grip the steering wheel tighter at his name. Robin doesn’t know about your weird fixation on Eddie. 

“What’s this weekend? Is there a party or something?” You keep your voice level while you focus on the road in front of you. Two more turns and you’ll be in the parking lot and away from this unexpected conversation topic.

“Steve’s thing. Please tell me you didn’t forget. You promised you’d come.” Robin’s pulling down the visor to fix her disheveled hair and check her lip gloss. You hadn’t forgotten, you just never actually planned on going. You secretly hoped the weekend would never come, or that Robin would decide that it would be more fun to just skip the party.

You pull into your usual spot without responding and sigh. You check yourself in your rearview mirror, surprised to see the raisin lipstick still clinging to your mouth. You flip the visor back up and turn to Robin. You see her eyes are pleading with you. 

“I didn’t forget. I guess I can go. Nobody will care if I’m there or not, though.”

“I care. I’m the only one that matters, remember?” You can’t deny her words, not when she has those big wide eyes trained to your face.

–

Eddie isn’t late today. He’s sitting in his seat when you walk through the door to your first period class. You don’t look at him, but you can feel him looking at you. You can’t breathe until you’re seated with your own eyes looking at the back of his head. The way it should be. You looking at him, not the other way around. 

“Good morning,” Mrs. O’Donnell’s usual greeting is being said before she’s even stepped both feet into the classroom. Never a wasted moment for that woman, it’s exhausting to deal with before 8:00 a.m. five days a week. “Pick a partner. I don’t want any excuses about how hard this exam is tomorrow. You can spend the entire period studying together.”

Pick a partner. Dreaded words that you hate to hear unless you’re in a class with Robin. You choose the tactic you use most often. You wait to see who everyone else chooses, you’ll be the default partner for whoever is left. The sound of desks scraping the linoleum floor floods the room as people turn to face their study buddy. It’s all you hear until -

“Do you have a partner yet?” Eddie Munson asks. It takes you a beat to realize he’s talking to you because you’re doodling on the empty sheet of paper in front of you pretending to not notice that you’re supposed to be doing something. You look up and see his dark eyes staring at you, until you remember that he’s asked you something.

“Oh, uh, no. I don’t have one.” Should I ask him to be my partner? Should I give him a shy smile and bite my lip? Should I burst into flames and turn to ash? It doesn’t matter, because Eddie takes that as an invitation. He stands up and starts moving his desk so that it faces yours. And now, there’s nowhere to hide. 

Eddie Munson is your study buddy.

[babydollmarauders]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY & MOTHER’S DAY!

part of the el!hughes au!

y/n.hughes

liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and 127,821 others

y/n.hughes imagine having the hottest, sweetest, most loving husband in the world. thankfully, i don’t have to imagine!

happy 22nd birthday to my best friend since i was 13, the best father i could’ve ever imagined to our beautiful baby girl, and my absolute world.

since we were tiny teenagers, you put the stars in my sky. you went from my friends brother, to my best friend, to my boyfriend, to my fiancé, to my husband, to the most amazing baby daddy. i’m so proud of how far you’ve come and i’m so grateful to have been by your side for all of it.

thank you for choosing me to love you for the rest of our lives.

i hope you have the best birthday, love!

p.s. if only teenage us could see us now!

tagged jackhughes

jackhughes thank you lovie ❤️ i’m so thankful that i have you in my life, for the rest of my life. i love you so much!

y/n.hughes 22 birthday kisses incoming!

trevorzegras lemme get in on that action! 😚😚

y/n.hughes @/trevorzegras come over! come see your niece and your bff’s!

trevorzegras @/y/n.hughes on my way!

lhughes_06 happy bday bro!

jackhughes thanks lil bro!

user37 THEY’RE SO CUTE 😭 MY PARENTS! HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACK!!

trevorzegras let’s blast some t-swift! happy 22, dude!

jackhughes thanks bro! lovie’s already had 22 on repeat all morning, she beat you to it

trevorzegras that’s my best friend!

nicohischier happy birthday hughesy! had fun last night!

jackhughes thanks cap! me too!

_quinnhughes happy birthday little brother! see you soon!

jackhughes thank you quinny! see you soon!

colecaufield happy birthday jacky! 22 has never looked so good!

jackhughes thank you cole 😉

elblue6 happy birthday to my middle baby ❤️

jackhughes thank you mom! happy mother’s day!

_alexturcotte happy birthday stud!

jackhughes thanks bro!

jackhughes

liked by lhughes_06, trevorzegras, and 142,719 others

jackhughes happy mother’s day to the girl who shook my world!

this girl came into my life when i was 14, and i remember when quinn introduced us. we hit it off immediately and one of my first thoughts was “i’m gonna spend my life with this girl”

at the time, i didn’t think it in a romantic sense, but more of a ‘this girl is gonna be my best friend forever’ way. of course, i’m not surprised to find that i was right. the past seven years with her in my life have been nothing short of amazing.

and then she blessed me with our baby girl and showed me just how amazing she really is. this girl is the best wife, friend, and most importantly mother.

lovie, i can’t thank you enough for giving me the most amazing gift: el. and i can’t thank you enough for being the most selfless, caring, kindhearted mom to our girl.

i love you with my whole heart.

tagged y/n.hughes

y/n.hughes i love you so insanely much, sweet boy! thank you! and thank you again for the beautiful flowers this morning <3

jackhughes flowers are the absolute least i can do compared to what you do for me and el every day

trevorzegras happy mother’s day to my best friend! thank you for giving me my goddaughter!

y/n.hughes thank you bff! can’t wait to see you later!

trevorzegras i’m armed with gifts!

lhughes_06 happy mother’s day sis! thanks for being like a much too young second mother to me!

y/n.hughes thank you bubs!! and thank you for the cards from you and el this morning! those were the sweetest!

user27 EVERYONE’S FAV MILF! HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY Y/N!

_quinnhughes happy mother’s day sis! i could never have imagined you becoming my sister and the mother of my niece when i introduced you two, but i’m so glad that’s what happened!

y/n.hughes thank you huggy! for everything! <3

elblue6 happy mother’s day sweetheart! ❤️

y/n.hughes thank you momma! happy mother’s day to you as well! you did such an incredible job raising your boys!

colecaufield HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY BESTIE!! see you soon?!

jackhughes i’m not a mother, cole. but thank you! see you soon!

colecaufield well this is awkward…

y/n.hughes THANK YOU COLEY!! see you so soon! can’t wait to be back home with the gang!

_alexturcotte happy mother’s day, y/n/n! jack, you better make her entire day!

y/n.hughes thank you turcs! we’ve been switching between spoiling each other all day!

nicohischier happy mother’s day to the team mom! thanks for always bringing us snacks and hosting team dinners!

y/n.hughes thank you neeks! it’s my pleasure!

dawson1417 HAPPY MOM’S DAY!!

y/n.hughes THANK YOU!!!

[tf-lover]

I know I’ve already wished you a happy birthday but I can’t help the opportunity to do it here as well. Just wanted to make sure that you know I love you and that I feel proud to call you my boyfriend. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I’m sure anyone who’s spoken to you knows that just as well. I feel so lucky to know you and have you in my life and I’m grateful that we were somehow able to meet through the unlikeliness of Tumblr messages of all places hahah! You deserve the world and I hope I’m able to give it to you ❤️

That said I’m glad you’re enjoying my present so far. It wasn’t easy to get my hands on that nanotech body suit. Expensive thing but well worth the money with how easily customisable it is at any time. I know you’re probably gonna be spending the majority of your time as a massive black stud but I can’t wait to see what other bodies you try out with all the customisation as well!

Of course I had to save the best of all of these birthday asks for last. ❤️

I couldn't ask for a sweeter man to call mine. That day I was bored at work and reading stories then messaged you from my main accidentally was one of the best and most unlikely outcomes ever. I wouldn't change a second of anything that led you to being the most wonderful boyfriend I could have asked for. I love you Mr Wavell, I can't wait for the rest of our days together.

That being said, I'm sure you all saw this picture I posted with the original post getting you to send asks in. That, if you can believe it was how I woke up! Already in the suit and programmed to look like my favourite stud, my boyfriend definitely knows me well. It was wild to say the very least waking up and feeling genuinely different; I thought I was seeing things at first until I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Of course then when he walked in and called me by this body's name I knew who was responsible. After all the roleplays we've done this was really taking it to a new level with him acting like he was totally unaware of me being anyone other than Ched.

Still, I've had plenty of other fun with the suit too!

Taken a ride through a load of my other favourite men's bodies and fucked or been fucked in all of them. Flipped my gender and spent an afternoon teasing him about being a straight guy whilst riding his cock and making him grope my tits. Became a copy of him too for a little bit just to play out the twin fantasy.

I've had all sorts of kinky fun to say the least, but at the end of the day we both know who I'm always coming back to.

Like you suggested I started playing around with the customisation settings this morning. How do we think dreads suit me? There's a few other surprises too, but you'll have to find those out for yourself. All the hint I'll give you is try sucking my nipples next time we're alone together and see what happens. 😜

Thank you again though for the new suit, and for everything else you do to make my life better with you in it. ❤️

[carmyboobear]

ALEXITHYMIA CH 5: detergent, thrifting, and cake

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Chapter Rating: T (11k)

ao3 link, ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

Chapter Summary: It’s his roommate’s birthday this week, and Carmy doesn’t find out until it’s a couple days away. Once he finds they’re unluckily spending their birthday alone, he makes it his mission to make their lonely day better. It’s the least he can do. Little does he know how much more he has to discover about them and about himself.

Tags: reader having trauma, carmy having trauma, toxic families, domesticity

A/N: It’s time… it’s time. I said last chapter was the longest…just kidding. THIS ONE is the longest, and it was hardest to write so far. The duo gets to have a lot of fun this chapter, though! arguably the most so far! A lot of domestic goodness and good food and shopping! Until… :)

also HUGE shoutout to @justaconsequence on tumblr for being my beta reader for this chapter! she was so kind and so helpful. this behemoth of a fic is too much for me to proofread on my own. anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy! can't wait to hear what y'all think!

Typically, by this time on Monday morning, Carmy's usually three cigarettes deep into paperwork, urgently (and poorly) calculating the sales the restaurant needs to make this week to stay afloat. Because even though it's a Sunday closing activity, he never seems to find the occasion to get around to it, and by 10 pm, he doesn't have the capacity to be crunching numbers. 

Not that 8 am is much better. At least he's not dissecting the debt this morning—he's studying detergent prices.

“Why is this one, like, almost 20 dollars?” Carmy stops reading the price tags and glances over at his roommate, who's squinting at products on upper shelves. The lights are always too bright in this place. “And for such a small bottle…”

“Pre-mixed organic sulfate-free 100% vegan bleach,” Carmy reads dully. 

“So stupid.” They shake their head. “Does grocery shopping ever depress you?”

“Usually,” he replies dryly. “Inflation is pretty depressing.”

“Don’t even get me started. Capitalism in general depresses me.”

“Hm, yeah. That too.” He sighs through his nose and tries to refocus. He's having a hard time processing all the numbers and letters today. “You see any unscented detergent? Somethin’ mild?”

“Um…” They crane their neck up and down, and then they crouch on the ground. They pick up a white bottle. “How's this? It's like, 8 dollars. It's not name-brand, but…”

“You know I don't care.” He kneels with them, huddling in close. They smell faintly of a sweet, yet musky perfume. He reminds himself to focus on the detergent, not the way they smell (even if it's far more interesting). “Yeah, this looks good. Thank you.”

“For your vintage denim, right?” They stand up to put the detergent in their shopping cart, which is barely separated with his stuff vs. theirs. He doesn't understand why his face grows warm at their comment, but it does. 

“Uh, yeah. It is.” If the blush shows on his face, they graciously don't comment. “Although I'll admit I don't get around to washing them as much as I should.”

“You're not supposed to wash jeans that often anyway, right?” They lean their elbows onto the rickety cart as they push it, and he ambles along next to them, matching the slow, relaxed pace of their walk. 

“Yeah, but I really…” The implications are clear. They fail in suppressing a laugh, and it makes him smile. “And I’m supposed to hand wash them, so.”

“Oh, so what you're saying is that you never wash them,” they tease.

“That is not at all what I'm saying.” They make an unimpressed face. “I do laundry, it's just…”

“Not often,” they supply helpfully. He tries to come up with something, but he's got nothing. “It's okay, I understand.”

“I promise I wash my clothes,” he mumbles, wilting. 

“I know.” There's that new smile he's grown to recognize more clearly. It's this mischievous one they get when they’re teasing him, and it's so cute he doesn't have any room in him to get even a little irritable. “I've seen you do laundry maybe once or twice.”

“Hey,” he says, warning, and they laugh and run ahead of him, the squeaky wheels of the cart giggling alongside them. 

After the night he almost burned down their apartment, he had felt different. It was like a switch being flipped, light abruptly filling up a dark room, and he's been squinting, struggling to adjust. But as he walks with them today, grocery shopping lit by blinding white fluorescents, he finds that he can see them rather clearly. 

The connection between the two of them is tangible, palpable. It's workable pasta dough that's been kneaded to uniformity. The dough is malleable, clean, and when he touches it, sticky, glutenous residue doesn't cover his palms. When he catches at them peeking over their shoulder to make sure he's still following them, he chases away the urge to pull them into his arms. He throws the desire into boiling water in hopes that enough pressure will change those feelings into something more palatable. He's not sure if it's working.

Something happened when he hugged them that Saturday night. He doesn't dare name what that “something” is, but it's rising from where it's sitting at the bottom of the pot, just about to hit the surface—

“Hey, I gotta get some stuff in this aisle.” Carmy snaps out of it and follows them as they veer the cart to the left. He raises his eyes to read the categories on the sign.

“You bakin’ somethin’?” They both move out of the way for an oncoming cart.

“Yeah, was thinking about it.” They halt to a stop in front of the boxed cake mix and step back to fully peruse the shelves. He stands next to them, and they glance at him out of the corner of their eye. “You’re not judging me for getting box mix, are you?”

“Not at all,” he answers honestly. “Food is always better when made from scratch, but box mix has its uses. Besides, I’m not a baker.”

“That’s true, but I’m sure you still make an insane cake.” Carmy’s aware he can’t make them unsee his flash of a smile, but he still shrugs. “Sure, stay humble.”

“I try. What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, nothing much. It’s just my birthday.”

“Oh, okay.” 

…And he's about to move on, just as casually as it came, but then the processing finishes.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” They ask confusedly. 

“Is it your birthday today?”

“No, um, it’s this Thursday.” He exhales in palpable relief. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He hates at how worked up he sounds.

“Um…” Their face is twinged with guilt. “...There was never a good time to bring it up?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be getting upset.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I just feel like I should’ve known, I guess.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not your fault. I never brought it up. Um…” Their hands are fiddling with the edges of their sleeves. “I just have complicated feelings about my birthday.”

“Ah, I see. I get that.” That, he can understand. “Is it all the gifts and stuff?”

“Kinda. It’s a part of it.” They lean down to grab a box of devil’s food cake, and that makes him remember that they’re in a grocery store. Not quite the best place for a personal conversation like this. They’re being vague, but he won’t press. Not right now.

“You shouldn’t be baking for yourself on your birthday,” Carmy mutters. They smile at that, but it’s different. It’s heavy with melancholy. 

“It’s alright. I’m gonna be celebrating with my friends this weekend, just not on my actual birthday.” His conflicted expression persists. “It’s okay, really. It’s just a day. It’ll be enough of a present to not have to go into work.”

“Put that back,” he blurts out. “I’ll make you a cake.”

“Don’t you work?” Their eyebrows are arched in surprise. “You really don’t—”

“I know I don’t. But I want to. I do work, yeah, but I’ll, I’ll get someone to cover me.” He’s never said those words before in his life, and now that they’re out, he can’t take them back. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t want to take them back. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course,” they reply quickly. 

“Then let me do this. Please.” He has no idea where this courage is coming from. “I want to. I know I'm always working, but I really…” Their eyes are wide with wonder, yet watchful. It shouldn't make him falter, but it does. His heart stutters and whatever bravado briefly gripped him fades away. “I’m…probably being too pushy right now. Tell me to fuck off?”

“I’m not gonna tell you to fuck off for wanting to bake me a cake,” they laugh, easing his worries like they always do. “C’mon, Carm.”

“So, uh, is that a yes, or…?”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to ask you to take off of work for my birthday,” they start carefully, “but I wouldn’t object to it. So, yeah. It’s a yes.”

“Okay.” He can’t help his giddy smile. There's someone saying you look stupid like this, but he’s with them, and it makes everything else silent. “Okay, good.”

“You’re…being super sweet about all this.” He doesn’t understand why—maybe it’s the way they say it—but hearing that makes his neck go hot. 

“I mean…friends do stuff like this, don’t they?” 

“Only the good ones.” They beam beautifully at him. He hasn’t done anything to warrant their affection, he thinks, but the feeling of their smile is so warm. He can’t resist soaking in it.

He's glad that lady luck blessed him just enough to stop their birthday from passing him by. He's been itching for an opportunity to repay them for all the bullshit they've had to take from him as of recent (although he knows if he brought it up, they would say it wasn't anything worth repaying). They deserve something good from him for once, not panic attacks and nightmares. 

He just wishes he could figure out why they were going to spend their birthday alone. He knows them a lot better now, but there's still so much left shrouded. He wants to know them inside and out—he wants to learn what makes them tick, what keeps them up at night, what makes them happy. He wants to know all of it in its entirety, to fill in the gaps in the puzzle he doesn't have the pieces for.

He has some of the pieces. He understands that their relationship with their family to his—distant, strained, and difficult. Unfortunately, that’s about it. He doesn’t know any of the specifics. It’s not like he’s talked to them about his family outside of the off-handed bitter remarks, just as they have, but he finds that this fact leaves him dissatisfied.

He just hopes that they'll let him in. He's not sure if they will, but…he's gonna try. He has to. He's sick of not trying.

. . . . .

“You want to take off?” Richie’s staring at Carmy like he’s grown a second head. They're taking a smoke break in the back. “I don’t know what sort of doppelganger bullshit this is, but if you’re trying to pretend to be Carmen, you’re doing a shit job.”

“Very funny, jackass,” Carmy mutters. “I’m being serious. This Thursday.”

“All day?” Carmy grimaces, but he nods. Richie shakes his head. “You’re being weird. Really fuckin’ weird.”

“I know I shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea, but—”

“Cousin, no, that’s not at all what’s goin’ on here,” Richie interrupts, and Carmy’s at a loss for words. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

“What?” Carmy squints at him. “Are you being serious?”

“‘Course I’m serious. I’m always serious.” Carmy decides not to comment on that. “Do you know how many times I’ve tried to get you off this ship for just one fucking second?”

“As the owner of this place, you’ve tried way too many times,” he replies dryly. 

“Uh, as the original co-owner of this place, you don’t listen to me enough.” Again, Carmy decides not to elaborate on that one. It’s not worth it. “Take the day off. I was running it fine before, and I’ll keep running it.”

“No, no, we’re not saying that, it was not fine,” Carmy starts, but Richie’s already flipping him off. 

“Whatever, I already know, new fucking system and all that. Don’t get anxiety or whatever over it, that’s why you got Syd hustling shit your way, right?” 

“Uh.” Carmy didn’t realize that Richie had even been paying attention to the new hierarchy in the restaurant, let alone respecting it in any capacity. “Yeah, she is.”

“Then it’s fine.” Richie blows smoke in his face, and Carmy swats it away with a glare. “It was fine when you came in an hour late today, wasn’t it?” 

“You guys knew I wasn’t gonna come in until later,” Carmy argues, defensive (although he’s not sure if there’s actually anything to argue about). 

“Exactly.” Richie sighs all of a sudden, a long one that sounds like it’s bone deep. “Carm. Let me be straight with you. You need to do this. Okay? No backing out of this one.”

“Why’re you sayin’ this? What are you sayin’?” 

“It’s ‘cause of your roommate, right? This Thursday?”

“...Yeah.” Carmy pales. “How did you—?”

“Fuckin’ knew it,” Richie says, grinning. “It was obvious.”

“No way. I didn’t say shit.”

“You didn’t need to.” Richie flicks the ash off his cigarette. “They’re changin’ you, man. We can all see it.”

“...” Carmy can’t deny that. He doesn't have time to ponder on that right now. “Is it really okay?”

“Yeah, you could stand to have an attitude adjustment.”

“I wasn’t talking about that, asshole. I was talking about Thursday.”

“Yes, for fuck’s sake, it’s completely fine.” Richie claps a hand on his shoulder, solid in its grip. It makes Carmy’s eyes snap to him, mostly in confusion. “So what’s the occasion? Must be important.”

“It’s their birthday. I mean, I could just go home early that day, but—”

“Yo, if you’re gonna take off, don’t halfass it—”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. When I’m here, I can’t seem to find my way out. This place…it just has a way of trapping you in.” He doesn’t expect Richie to nod, but he does. “I know if I don’t take the whole day off, I’ll never get out of here in time. Not until it’s too late.”

For some reason, that makes Richie laugh. 

“Yeah. That's it.” Richie shakes his head as smoke trails out of his mouth. “That’s just it, man. You have to make time for the things that’re important. Even the recitals where you have to listen to five year olds play twinkle twinkle little star 20 times. You can’t miss shit like this. Because once you miss it, it’s gone.”

“Rich.” Carmy wants to say something to make that haunted expression leave Richie's face, but he doesn't come up with anything in time.

“Don’t give me that look.” Richie’s hand falls from his shoulder. “I’m just tryin’ to stop you from fucking shit up. They actually seem like a good person.”  

“Y’think so?”

“I do. You?”

“Yeah.” Carmy doesn’t bother hiding his smile, even though he can already sense Richie’s teasing coming from a mile away. “They’re a really good friend.”

“Friend. Sure.” Richie snorts. 

“Don’t push it,” and for some reason he adds, “they were gonna spend it alone.”

“Huh. Sociable guy like them spending it alone?”

“I know. I didn't ask. Maybe I should've.”

“Maybe. I dunno, cousin. Everyone's got their secrets. Especially the ones that try to act like they don't have any.”

“You're strangely full of wisdom today.”

“Fuck right off,” Richie responds in regular Richie fashion.

“I think they're like me. Like us.” Carmy's not sure why he's saying this on a Monday afternoon at work out of all times, but the truth bursts out of him beyond his will. Richie's expression shifts into something more solemn, something recognizable. “Y'know what I mean.”

“...Yeah.” Richie claps his hand on Carmy's back again. “Shitty parents club.”

As Carmy stands there in the back, feet sore and tobacco in the air, he sees his childhood in flashes. He's five years old again and is following Mike around with scuffed sneakers and untamed hair, although he supposes that unruliness never truly changed with time. There's warm sunlight filtering through green summer leaves. He hears his mother behind him, somewhere, but maybe he doesn't. 

He thinks of home, of his bedroom, and it is cold. He has homework he’s failed to complete again. It's sitting on his desk, on top of all of the other shit he can't finish. There's screaming, and he's not listening.

He blinks. He’s 30, and he hasn’t talked to his mom since Michael died.

“Shitty parents club,” Carmy repeats hollowly. 

. . . . .

When Thursday morning arrives, Carmy ends up greeting his roommate with flour in his hair and eggs sizzling on the pan. 

“Um,” they say, just as Carmy goes “G'morning.” They both freeze, brief awkwardness circling between them before it dissipates with their breathless laugh.

“Good morning. I didn't think you'd actually take off,” they admit.

“I said I would,” he replies quietly, but it's not accusatory. How many times had he said he'd be home for dinner just for him to arrive when they're already asleep? He tries not to make empty promises anymore. Nonetheless, he understands their surprise. “Um, I'm almost done with breakfast. I didn't get to the coffee yet.”

“Am I supposed to be offended?” They laugh. “That's the least I can do, with you doing all of this.” They sluggishly shuffle behind him to reach down into some kitchen cabinets. “It's a special day, so I'll even make us pour overs.”

“That's true. It is special.” He peeks over his shoulder, pausing from basting the eggs in brown butter to see them setting up on the kitchen island. They gently place the hourglass-shaped glass onto the counter with a light clink. He silently switches the button on for the electric gooseneck kettle to his right. “Am I allowed to wish you a happy birthday, or should I not?”

“Hm, I don't mind. Just don't overdo it, which I doubt you will.” They pull out a bag of coarse ground coffee and a filter. As soon as they open the bag, he can smell the sweet scent of the light roast floating towards him. 

“Okay. Then, happy birthday,” he says as casually as he can.

“Thanks, Carmy.” He studies their expression, searching for annoyance in their content expression, but he doesn't find any. “That's not even really what I meant by today being special, though.”

“How else did you mean it?” The eggs are done. He reaches over the hot pan to cut the heat.

“Well, y'know. I dunno if we’ve ever had a full day off together.” They're carefully scooping grounds into the filter fitted on top of the glass, creating a small hill. “I think I managed to catch you coming home early on my off days sometimes, but never a full day.”

“Huh.” Carmy has to take a minute to think about that one. “Yeah, I don't know either. I think you're right.”

“Then, like I said. It's special.” They seal up the bag of coffee grounds, and then they frown. “Shit. I forgot to turn on the kettle. Can you—”

“Already did it,” he reports, pleased, and his sense of accomplishment only doubles at their sigh of relief. 

“Thank god.” There's the familiar clicking sound of the kettle reaching the perfect temperature. “Just in time, too. Can you hand it to me?”

“Yes, chef,” he says, because it always makes them laugh. Today is no exception. He slides the metallic kettle over to them. 

“So what delights did you whip up over there?” They ask. They begin pouring the almost boiling water over their coffee grounds in a slow circle, gradually inching towards the middle. “It smells amazing. I want the full break-down.”

“The full break-down, got it.” On two circular plates, he's carefully placing a fried egg, thick cut bacon, and a slice of toast with jam and butter. “Uh…it's nothin’ special, just stuff we had in the fridge. We've got a, uh, brown-butter fried egg with a little paprika, sage, pepper, salt…”

“Oh, just an egg made with liquid gold, no big deal,” they imitate.

“Cut it out,” he snips back, but he's smiling and they know it. “There's honestly not much to it. This thick-cut bacon was in the back, so I cooked the rest of it. And the toast is just brioche with salted honey butter and blueberry jam.”

“Carmy. C'mon. That's nothing special to you?”

“I mean.” It's not quite nothing, he thinks. “I can make nicer breakfasts, is all.”

“That's what you said when you made me garlic bread, and that fucking blew my mind.” They set the kettle down with a thunk. The glass is full of dark coffee. Prepped next to them is their favorite glass mug alongside Carmy's. He's not sure how they knew that it was his favorite, but he doesn't question it.

“I'm just letting you know that you should wait to be really impressed.” 

“Too fucking late, man.” He's turned around and placed the two breakfast platters on the kitchen island, and they gawk openly at it. “Holy fuck.”

“It's ready,” he says, surprisingly meek. He can't comprehend why anxiety's hitting him now of all times. He's served acclaimed food critics, top-security government officials, and celebrities more times than he can count. Before that audience, he never faltered, but in front of his roommate in their crumpled pajamas, his heart stutters. 

“Oh, wow…” They regard the food with undeserved softness. Like a punctured balloon, his anxiety immediately begins deflating. They're staring at the food like it's a painting in a museum. “You seriously didn't have to do all of this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.” He feels heat on the back of his neck. “Is…is that okay?”

“It's more than okay.” Suddenly, he notices their eyes are puffy, like they were crying. “Goddamnit, get over here.” 

He only registers what's about to happen for one second before they're hugging him. Their palms are on his back, and the top of their head tucks under his chin perfectly. He makes a small, surprised noise. 

“I, I'm glad you like it.” He links his arms around them, allows himself to rest his chin on their head. With their face turned to the side, their ear's pressed up against his chest, and he's instantly struck with the paranoia that they're gonna hear his rapid heartbeat. 

“I haven't even taken a bite yet, and I love it.” They lean back then, arms still wrapped around him and head craned upwards to look at him. It's far too intimate for what they are, and Carmy hates how his heart beats even harder. “Thank you for doing all this. Seriously. I…”

“The breakfast's just a side thing, I'm, um, still baking you a cake.”

“What? You're doing this and a cake?”

“Um,” Carmy repeats intelligently.

“Carmy. Carmy, Carmy, Carmy.” Their words ooze affection, but surely he's just imagining it. Their hands are crawling up his back. “God, I could just ki—”

“There's the timer,” Carmy blurts out, because his phone's ringing and so are his ears. At the sound, they let him go, and he grabs two towels to retrieve the two circular cake pans from the oven. A toothpick poked through the middle comes out clean, so he sets them on a wire rack to cool. 

He needs to focus on the cakes. That's the most important thing.

“Oh my god.” They lean in close to the cake and take a deep breath. “Is this—”

“Devil's food cake, yeah.” The heat searing his face is surely from opening the oven. 

“You—how did you—” Their smile is luminous with joy. “You really pay attention to every little thing, don't you?”

“Sometimes. When it counts.” He fidgets awkwardly, nails picking at the sides of his fingers. “Wanna eat by the window, or…?”

“Fuck yeah I do. Can you bring the plates over? I'll have the coffee over in just a second.”

Carmy sets up at their little table first, placing the plates just right across from one another. The morning sun casts a cozy glow through their speckled window, streaking planes of light across the floor. He patiently waits and watches them pace from the fridge to the counter, splashing cream into their mugs. Through the transparent glass, he watches the white fizzle into the dark coffee, blending into a warm brown.

“Just a tiny spoon of sugar for you, right?” They peek over their shoulder, catching his stare, and he nods. He's also not quite sure how they know that, either. They've had coffee in the morning maybe a handful of times before.

He supposes they also pay attention sometimes, when it counts.

“Alright, here we go.” They bring a mug in each hand and set them delicately down on the table. He notes that his coffee is the perfect color. “Oh, thanks for waiting. You didn't have to.”

“I, I guess so, yeah. It's just, uh, you always wait for me, so…”

“That's—that's true.” An odd tension sets in their face, but they laugh it off, and it disappears. “I guess I’m not used to it anymore.”

A part of him wants to ask further by what they meant by that, but they're already taking pictures of his food so dutifully. He doesn't want to ruin it, so he eats. 

It's nice to have a solid breakfast for once. He had taken their advice from the other night and had been drinking milk with protein powder. It was nice not to feel like he was teetering the edge by lunch time, but truthfully, it was a bit unsavory. This breakfast platter is much more palatable. It also helps that his stomach pains aren't active today. 

Time rolls by slowly this quiet morning, and Carmy recognizes the oddity of it immediately. It's clear to see when by this time, he's usually already done at least ten laps through the restaurant. An irritating signal in his brain is telling him that he needs to get up and do something, not sit around and eat, but for once, he doesn't want to listen. 

A memory from roughly two weeks ago (or was it one week?) unearths all of sudden. He was up early, drinking shitty coffee and sinking into dissociation. Mornings were lonely, as he was usually the only one up, but not that day. His roommate came stumbling into the kitchen, awake from a restless night. They chatted before he had to head out, and he remembers wishing he had more time in the morning to spend with them. 

He imagined a morning just like this one, with pajamas, food, and messy hair. He daydreamed about having all the time in the world, and he thought about getting to spend it all with them. Now he’s sitting in that moment he imagined, except that it’s real. They're across from him in their wrinkled pajamas and bedhead, contentedly mowing through their food. There's a smear of jam on the corner of their mouth. He takes a sip of his coffee, and it's perfect, just as they made it for him. 

This amount of good should scare him, needs to scare him, but he just can't bring himself to care anymore. He wants more than nightmares, cigarettes, and floating just above the budget. He wants this.

He tastes his coffee and reminds himself that he’s still here. The moment hasn’t passed him by. 

“Is it good?” He asks quietly. It’s a rhetorical question, it always is, but he can’t help himself. He wants to hear it from them. 

“So. Fucking. Good.” They have to finish chewing before they answer. “You always knock it out of the park. If this is the prelude, I don’t know if I can handle what’s next,” they say, gesturing towards the cooling cake.

“It won’t be ready for a while yet. You have time to prepare yourself.” That makes them smile. All according to plan. “Got anything in mind for today?”

“Nothing glamorous. I was just gonna go out for a little. Go thrifting, maybe watch a movie later. Smoke a joint.” They shrug. “Just my usual sort of thing.”

“Mm.” He dusts off crumbs from the toast off his fingers on his pants. “Sounds like a good time. You still wanna go?”

“I do, yeah.” They stare at him for a moment, as if processing his words. Or just him. “Do you…wanna tag along, or…?”

Whenever they ask him if he wants to spend time together (whether it’s grocery shopping, smoking, or watching a show), they usually offer it with an air of nonchalance. Carmy’s assumed it’s been out of politeness, restraining their expression as to not put any pressure onto him. That’s the person he’s used to, not this uneasy anxiety, someone afraid to ask him to spend time with them.

It reminds him of himself in every way. 

“I’d love to tag along,” he answers easily, just as they’ve always done for him. “I’ve got the whole day off, after all.”

“Right. ‘Course.” He watches their little smile double in size. “I promise to not make you watch me try on clothes for too long.”

“I wouldn’t mind. I like thrifting, y’know.” And you, he thinks to himself. 

“You do? Oh, of course—” They make a contemplative noise to themself. “Vintage denim. I always wondered how you managed to have so many pairs.”

“Once you know where to look, they’re pretty easy to find. I can help you find some, if you want.”

“I’d love that. I realized the other day that I don’t have any dark wash jeans, so—actually, the truth is that I do have a pair, but they’re so fucked up and old that I never wear them anymore. Anyway, I need new jeans. Think you could find some dark wash blue jeans for me?”

“If you’re willing to hit up more than one store, then definitely,” he replies, just a smidge cocky.

“I’m willing to hit up even two more stores.” He pretends to gasp, to which they nod confidently. “Yeah. That’s right. Maybe even three.”

“We won’t need three,” Carmy promises. “I’m better than that. Probably won’t even need two, but…” He shrugs. “We’ll see what they’ve got.”

“Okay, Mr. Confident over here,” they tease. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

They head out after they both clean the kitchen and freshen up. Carmy gets the flour out of his hair and rewets his hair to revive some of his curls. He silently thanks his past self for showering the night before. With the passage of the morning cold and the rising sun, the afternoon weather’s become brisk and pleasant. However, the weather’s barely a factor in how he’s dressing. 

Is this too much? Is this not enough? He’s switching shirts and pants in the mirror like he’s about to go on a date. He knows he’s not, swears to himself that he’s not, but he’s put product in his hair and cologne on his wrists and temples. It’s not a date, but he can’t fucking decide what to wear. 

He sucks it up and settles on a gray sweater, light wash blue jeans, and white sneakers. From under his collar and at the bottom of his sweater peeks out a brown button up. It’s probably too much, but this is his sixth outfit change. He’s fed up with it and himself.

After adjusting the gold chain that got hidden under his collar, he steps out. 

He finds them already waiting by the door in this thick knit cardigan and fitted plaid pants that makes his heart stutter. When they hear him approaching, their head snaps up from their phone, and their skin sparkles with touches of makeup. 

“You look really nice.” He has no idea how he let that slip, but he’s more shocked that he didn’t stutter once. 

“Ah, th—thank you,” they stammer, fingers fidgeting with the edge of their sleeve. He’s not sure if it's their makeup or their skin that’s doing the blushing. It’s nice to see them being the one tripping over their words for once. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“Oh. Um.” Handsome? It echoes in his head. He instantly feels self conscious. So much for being the more suave one for once. “Thanks, uh…I just didn’t wanna wear my work clothes,” he lies in an attempt to ease his embarrassment.

“I gotcha.” He’s glad they don’t challenge him on it. “Shall we head out?”

“Yeah. Where we headed first?”

They take the metro to their personal favorite shop a little up north. The metro’s surprisingly busy for a Thursday afternoon, but the crowd forces the two of them to be huddled next to each other. They’re both standing close to a pole by the window, each with one hand wrapped around the metal. 

As passengers come and go, they step closer to him to move out of the way. Eventually it just gets to a point where they’re standing nearly pressed up against his chest. He tries not to dwell on how that makes him feel, but he can smell the fragrance they put on, and it’s very distracting. 

Luckily, the ride is short. Any longer on the train, he might’ve put an arm around their shoulder, god forbid. 

“If we can’t find what I’m looking for here, maybe you can show me one of your favorite spots to go thrifting,” they say as they enter the thrift store. The interior is decorated, clean, and lovely, and unlike the metro, it’s not packed to the brim with people. It smells faintly of incense, and there’s local art framed all over the walls for sale. It oozes warmth and excitement, much like them. 

“There’s a ton of shit here, so maybe we won’t need to after all.” He finds himself intaking everything at once, eyes flickering from sign to sign. “I’ve never been here before. This is really cool.”

“It’s my favorite place to find new clothes.” They trail down the racks, finger flitting between clothes. “I hope you can find something you like here, too.”

“I’m sure I will.” He’s already walking to their denim section and immediately spots some contenders. “I think I already have.”

He’s not sure if they mean to spend hours in there, but he certainly does. There’s more than just clothes to look at, although that’s what takes up most of his time. There’s dishes, furniture, cds, vinyls, books, even electronics. He goes back and forth with them, clothing articles piling up in his arms as they sit on battered couches together and peruse scratched cds. Everywhere he looks, there’s just more, more, and more. 

“Okay, I’ve gotta cut myself off,” they say as they leave the furniture section. They’ve sat on nearly every chair in that place. “I already have so many clothes to try on, and that’s not even including the jeans you’ve picked out for me.”

���If it helps, some of these are mine.” Carmy flips through the layers of hanging jeans that have built up on his forearm. “If you can believe it, I even found some stuff that isn’t denim.”

“I’m not sure if I can, but seeing is believing.” They thumb through some long-sleeves he’s carrying that are seeping out from under the jeans. “I’m just glad you were able to find some stuff for yourself, too. Not that I was that worried.”

He hands them the jeans he’s found for them, all dark wash and in their size. To his surprise, they also hand him an article of clothing for him to try on. 

“I thought you’d look good in this. You’ll have to show me when you try it on,” they say, and it’s innocent, completely meaningless, but as soon as Carmy agrees and rushes to hide in the changing room, he views in the mirror and sees his flushed face. 

Doesn’t mean anything, he repeats to himself, over and over and over. Stop getting in over your head.

He tries on his items of choice first. The first is a dark green henley that looked better on the rack than it did him, so he puts it in the reject pile. The second is a dark blue long sleeve that fits just right. It’s cheap, too, so it’s an automatic purchase. He presumes the way to word it is that it hugs him in all the right places, but he’s not sure. The rest are jeans, of which only one he decides to buy. A bit pricey, but for the brand and year, it’s worth it (although he basically always uses this reasoning with himself). 

Now, for the piece of clothing they picked out for him. It’s a dark brown t-shirt that seems like it’s just the right length. It’s a muted, yet warm brown, a bit rosey in hue. He doesn’t realize it’s a v-neck until he gets it over his head and down his shoulders. 

“I’ve never worn a v-neck before,” he calls out to the room next to him. 

“Oh, are you trying it on? Do you like it?” Their slightly muffled voice calls back to him. 

“Um…I’m not sure,” he admits with a shaky laugh. The collar is lower than he’s used to. It dips below his collarbones, and between them dangles his chain. “Should I show you?”

“Yes! Hold on, lemme get some pants on. …Okay, I’m stepping out!”

He hears their door open alongside his. When they see him, their expression snaps into what he believes is surprise and delight. He’s sure he looks somewhat the same. 

They’re wearing one of the vintage jeans he picked out for them—dark blue Levi’s. Although they’re rolled up a couple times at the bottom, it seems to fit them just right. As he stares, he’s reminded of his many pairs of Levi’s, and it’s more or less like seeing them in his clothes, which is. Which is. Uh. Yeah.

“I knew that would suit you,” they say with a grin, to which he realizes he can’t hide his blush. 

“It’s not weird?”

“Not at all. It looks good.” They tilt their head to the side as they openly look him over, hip cocked. Something in their gaze is making him hot. “No pressure to buy it, of course.”

“It’s different from what I’m used to, but…” He looks down, smooths the fabric with his palm. “It’s kinda nice, something like this. Um, and what do you think about the jeans?” He needs to direct the attention off him quickly. 

“Oh, I love them. The others ended up fitting not quite right on me, but that’s how it goes.” They move from side to side, almost twirling. It’s cute. “I love these, though. Just a little long, but I’m used to it.”

“That’s how it always is. I can hem them for you, if you want. I usually hem mine.”

“And he sews,” they say, seemingly to themself, but they’re looking right at him. Embarrassing. “If you don’t mind, that’d be amazing. Either way, I’m probably getting them.”

“Good. You should. They fit well.” 

“Yeah?” They glance back into their fitting room, likely examining themself in the mirror, and then back at him. “Okay, then. Definitely getting them.” With that and a cheeky grin, they go back into their dressing room to try on the rest of their clothes. Carmy follows suit, grateful to hide his embarrassed face. 

Carmy heads to check out with the dark blue long sleeve, a pair of jeans, and the brown v-neck. They’ve decided on the pair of jeans they showed him earlier and a little purple tank-top he wishes he got to see on them. 

“Will that be all for you today?” The cashier asks him as he checks out first. Even the cashiers here are pretty nice, he finds. 

“Oh, their stuff, too.” He nods to them, who’s standing right next to him. 

“Carmy.” They glare at him. 

“What?” He feels himself smiling. 

“You can’t do this to me.”

“C’mon.” He nudges them gently with his elbow. “It’s my present to you.”

“Oh, so the present wasn’t the breakfast? Or the cake? Or helping me pick these out?”

“Why can’t it be all of them?” He decides to stop this in its tracks and takes the clothes out of their hands, sliding it onto the counter. “Just these two, and that’ll be it.”

“Just you wait until your birthday hits,” they mutter darkly, shaking their head. “Just you wait.”

“I haven’t told you my birthday.” He pauses. “Right?”

“I’ll ask Richie.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re giving me no choice.”

“You could also just, I don't know, not ask—”

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't force my hand—”

“You guys are cute together,” the cashier comments with a smile, surely a harmless, meaningless thing, but it shuts the both of them up. Carmy can already feel the impact of it on his psyche, and he decides to tuck away the surging emotions to unpack later. At least, he'll try. 

“You really didn't have to get those for me,” they tell him when they're exiting the store. “But I guess I should just be saying thank you. So…thank you.”

“Sure. I mean, it would've been better if it was wrapped and stuff, but…” He shrugs. “Had to get you a real present, not just food.”

“Not just food, my ass.” That makes him laugh. “It'll be nice to have something to remind me of this day, though. That's one of the nice parts of getting gifts. Everytime I wear these clothes, I'll think of you.”

“Good. Yeah, that's…good,” he finishes lamely. He nods like their words haven't flustered him, but he's sure they can tell. They laugh, and he can tell it's because of his reaction. 

“I'm sorry that the cashier said that,” they say out of nowhere.

“Why're you apologizing? It's not your fault.” Any embarrassment he was feeling before is immediately replaced with a new, more potent sort of embarrassment. He was hoping they wouldn't mention it. 

“I guess that's true. I don't know, I just…” They trail off. “Just hope it didn't upset you.”

“Not at all,” he lies, and he prays they believe it.

. . . . .

The metro is less crowded on the way home. They sit comfortably next to each other and watch the city pass them by. A part of Carmy mourns the closeness they had on the way there, but the other part tells him to get it together and keep his distance. 

“I'mma take a nap,” they say with a yawn. Their cardigan and bag have been tossed onto the couch. The new clothes have been thrown into the laundry machine, and there's the muffled sound of running water. “Maybe we could smoke and watch a movie later, though.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” He peers into the fridge to check on the cake rounds. Just as he left them. “Have a good nap.”

“Thanks, Carm,” they reply sleepily. “Wouldn't be a good day if I didn't get to have a nice nap, after all.” With that, they shuffle into their room and shut the door behind them.

Carmy spends the next two hours flying around the apartment, baking, cooking, cleaning. The sun slowly sets as he goes. He keeps his body and hands moving in hopes that his head doesn't have a chance to catch up, but it manages to keep the pace. It always does.

The crumb coat's fucked up on the left, his first train of thought says. He inspects the surface, eyes following the circumference of the cake. There's a little loose crumb. With the edge of his spatula, he tucks the crumb away. 

The faint smell of chocolate wafts up from the cold cake rounds. He's hunched over the kitchen island, hands reaching between dark chocolate frosting and cake. The afternoon sun casts harsh lights onto the cake, and it glistens. He genuinely can't remember the last time he's made a layered cake. He's never been much of a baker, anyhow. 

You're going to disappoint them, his second train of thought interrupts, running parallel to the other one at full speed. Who do you think you are? You don't make cakes. 

He leans back, inspects his work. The crumb coats are perfect. 

Fuck off, he thinks back, triumphant. Look at that shit. He runs his finger along the spatula, picking up congealed crumbs and frosting. He licks it off, and it's delicious. And it tastes good, asshole. So shut the fuck up.

You're being a nuisance, the thoughts continue. Carmy's pops the crumb coats in the freezer for a quick set. They don't actually like any of this. They're just being nice to make you feel better.

They seemed happy to me, he thinks, but he's faltering. He's washing the dishes, and the sensation of the warm water feels distant. They loved the food I made.

Couldn't you tell they were lying? He doesn't understand why these thoughts are rampaging through his head now of all times. It's not unfamiliar, but it's inconvenient. Keep this up, and you'll actually be surprised when they drop you.

Without warning, a memory hits him . As his hands drip with soap, he's reminded of playing with Michael and Sugar in the summer when he was five. Or six, or seven, he's never quite sure. They were outdoors at a local park, and the heat made the metal of the playground searing hot to the touch.

He was blowing bubbles, and the sticky mixture from the bottle was getting all over his hands. In his memory, Carmy watches the way the iridescent bubbles floated away and left little circles on the surface of the plastic slide. He can't remember why he wasn't playing with the others. He can remember the sound of their laughing voices in the distance, gleeful and delighted without him. He thinks he tried to join in, but it didn't work. It often just didn't work, and it was all his fault. 

The memory ends, and Carmy's finished washing the dishes. 

This is working, he thinks to himself. His hands are dried out from the hot water and soap. I swear to you, it's working. So just stop. Okay?

There's no response. Good enough. 

He hears the door opening as soon as he's putting the finishing touches on the cake. With a damp paper towel, he carefully swipes away stray drops of frosting that fell onto the cake stand. He thinks it's best described as if a tiramisu was turned into a devil's food cake. It's not the best cake he's ever made, but it's definitely up there in terms of looks. All the components of the cake tasted good separately, so he hopes it makes sense in his mouth as much as it did in his head. 

“Have a nice nap?” He asks before he turns his head. They're standing in the hallway, bed hair hastily tied back.

“Sorta. It was okay.” Their eyes are glued onto the cake as they walk up to the island. “Is this…?”

“This is for you, yeah,” he finishes for them. They take a seat on one of the chairs at the island. “It's a, uh, devil's food cake with vanilla mascarpone cream on the inside. The outside's this coffee buttercream…” He trails off, not knowing what else to say. He could mention the dutch processed cocoa powder, the expensive vanilla bean pods, or the endless sifting, but it feels too gratuitous. 

“Wow…” They're still staring, as if it's not quite real to them. “I can't believe this is for me. It almost looks too pretty to eat, but you know I can't wait to tear into this.”

“We could, uh, have it now, if you, if you want,” he says hesitantly. 

“I don't know if I could wait.” Their smile grows wider. “You even put candles on it?”

“We don't have to light them or anything if you don't want to,” he adds quickly. 

“The candles are the fun part. I don't mind that. The song is…okay I guess, but…” They give him an expectant, excited look. “Were you gonna sing for me?”

“...Only if you wanted to,” he mumbles, suddenly stricken with embarrassment. 

“Would that be okay? If I wanted that?”

“I wouldn't mind.” Not if it's you.

“Okay. Then, yeah.” They pull out a lighter from their pocket. “I’d really like that.”

Carmy cuts the overhead lights before taking out his own lighter to help them light the rest of the candles. One by one, the dark room gradually illuminates until it's filled with a warm, orange glow. The flickering flames cast shifting shadows onto their smiling face and reflect into their glossy eyes. 

“Ready?” He asks quietly. 

“I'm ready,” they whisper. 

Carmy doesn't really need to clear his throat, but he does so anyway. He can't recall the last time he sang happy birthday to anyone, let alone by himself. This is the first time he's ever sung in front of an audience, too. 

I can do this, he thinks to himself. I can do this.

His voice is awkward and scratchy. He never uses it like this, has never sang for anyone in his life. His ears burn, and he hates the sound of his voice, but he reminds himself to focus on their delighted little smile and warm gaze. The room is far too quiet for his voice, making the words painfully clear. 

“Happy birthday to you,” he finishes singing, voice trailing off awkwardly. He's more than ready to finish singing now. “Uh, make a wish…?”

“Right.” The two of them sit in the flickering candle light for a moment longer, the silence thick. Carmy watches their face, their eyes boring into the candles with an expression he can only describe as longing. Then, they blow out the candles with a decisive blow, and the room goes dark. 

He moves to switch on the lights. When he turns back to look at them, tears are streaming down their face. 

“Hey,” he says softly. He props his elbows on the counter, standing across from them and tilting his head to the side. They're not meeting his gaze, glazed eyes boring into the dripping candles. “What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” they whisper with a sniffle, and it sounds like a reflex. Something about them suddenly seems so much smaller. “I shouldn't be crying.”

“It's okay. I don't mind.” That makes them smile, even if it's shaky. “Was the singing too much?”

“No, it wasn't your singing,” they say with a laugh. “Your singing was lovely. It's just—I'm so happy. You made today so special.”

“Yeah?” He fights the urge to reach over and wipe their tears. “I'm glad. I wanted to make it good. I…” He hesitates. “...I didn't like the idea of you spending it alone.”

“I didn't either. And I thought I was going to have to be alone…but then you—then you took off work, and you made me breakfast, you went shopping with me—even got me clothes—and now this—” Another rush of tears gushes from their eyes, and they hastily wipe at it with their shirt. 

“You've done way more for me. This is the least I could do.” Before he can stop himself, his hand is brushing hair out of their eyes. They freeze for a split second, eyes finally flickering up towards him. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It's okay,” they whisper back. “Um…” They let out a shaky sigh, the sort of trembling sound that happens after crying too much. “I feel like I should explain.”

“You don't have to if you don't want to,” he assures them quickly, “but I…I'd like to know. If that's okay.”

“I want you to know. I, I do.” They open their mouth to keep talking, but shaky breaths continue to stifle them. It's hard to watch.

“Breathe,” he reminds them, quietly. He visibly takes in a deep breath, silently encouraging them to breathe with him. They follow suit, closing their eyes and taking a slow breath. Tears slip silently from their eyes. Gradually, their breathing becomes less of a staccato, evening out into something much more manageable. 

“Thank you,” they murmur. He nods. They already sound a lot calmer. “I'm not sure where to start. I…I suppose I'll start with today.” Another deep breath. “I didn’t get a call from my parents today.”

“Ah…” The first missing piece.

“I knew they weren’t going to. But a part of me still hoped…” They stop and shake their head. “It's the first year that it's been like this.”

“What happened?”

“Uh…I went no contact with my family about a year ago.” Another pained, hollow laugh. The second piece. “I didn't even really want to—it was a complicated, shitty situation. My parents were being their usual shitty selves, and I just wanted them to apologize. It was over such a small thing, and, and I just…I don't know. I thought maybe I could fix things.” He's never seen them with such a heavy expression, etched with such weariness. “I just wanted them to apologize to me, Carm. That's all I wanted. And then they cut me off cold.”

Their voice is trembling again, and the tears are falling faster. The collar of their shirt is dark with moisture. Carmy hates that he doesn't know what to say. He hates just staring at them, silent as he tries to find the words. 

Suddenly, he thinks of Michael. 

“Michael never let me work in the restaurant,” he tells them. “That's why I went to culinary school. A big part of it, anyway. He just cut me off, didn't let me in no matter what I did, and it was…” He makes a vague hand gesture. “I felt insane. I was so fucking angry. I couldn't understand him. And I'm not saying that's anything like what you've been through, but…” He looks into their watchful eyes. “I'm sorry. I think I'm trying to say that I, that I understand. A little.”

“I…I appreciate that.” They give him a small, wobbly smile. He adores their smile, but seeing it through their tears twists something painfully in his chest. “He would've been lucky to have you. You're an excellent chef.”

“I am now, anyway.” He sighs. “Your family's missing out on you, too. You're…” Say it. Just say it. “You're a really wonderful person. I can't imagine…”

I can't imagine anyone looking at you and not loving what they see, he thinks suddenly, and he instantly realizes he can't say it. He can barely even comprehend that he just thought it. 

He can't process this right now. This isn't the time. 

“I keep trying to wrap my head around it all, wondering what I did wrong, what I could've done better… Sometimes, the conclusion I arrive at is that I must have done something to deserve this. That I just, I don't know, that maybe I'm just this permanent fuck-up, and…” They run a tired hand over their wet face, through their hair. “My parents fucked me up real good, man.”

There's something familiar about their words, and Carmy realizes it's because it sounds like him. He would've never guessed that under their easy-going smiles was a reflection of himself. He recognizes himself in their self-deprecation, the bone-deep pain. There was always a sense of sympathetic connection between the two of them, but he had no idea. He had no idea how far deep the mutual experiences went. 

A part of him still can't believe that this is the truth, that this is what lies at their core, but then he remembers. He thinks about the night they were throwing up into the toilet. They were sobbing, crying into his shoulder about how much they hate themself. 

“You know you didn't deserve it. Right?” Carmy's not sure when they started leaning in so close to each other. He's looking at their wet eyelashes with startling clarity. “You did all you could.”

“You don't know that.” Their words are so soft-spoken, but it still catches him off guard. “You don't know what happened.”

“You—” Irritation prickles inside him, his instincts itching to snap back, but he doesn't. He sees himself in them, and he holds back. “You're right. I don't know what happened. But I know you.” The shock is on their face as clear as day. “At least, I think I do.”

“I want to think you do, too,” they whisper. “But this—this messy bullshit is also me. I wish it wasn't. I wish you didn't have to see all this. I…don't want you to…think any less of me.”

“I don't think there's anything you could do to make me think less of you.” He doesn't resist dragging his thumb across a stray tear on their cheek. To his surprise, they lean into his touch. “Y'know when I almost burned down the apartment?”

“Oh my god.” They smile, and he feels their grinning cheek against his palm. “Yeah. Is it crazy to say I remember it fondly?”

“A little bit.” They laugh. It's quiet, but it's real. “Remember that talk we had after?”

“I do. Why?”

“You're allowed to mess up on onions,” he says softly. “It won't push me away.”

They stare at him for what feels like a long time. Their eyes refill with tears, but they don't spill. With a clammy hand, they shakily place their hand on top of his hand that's still cradling their wet cheek.

“Fucking onions,” they say finally with a wet laugh. Fresh tears drip onto his thumb, and he wipes them away again. As many times as it takes. “God damnit, Carmy.”

“No one deserves to have shitty parents, let alone ones that walk out on them.” He thumbs away more tears. “You being an imperfect person like everyone else doesn't justify that.”

“There must be something more I could've done,” they whisper. “Something I did wrong.”

“Maybe. But they're your parents, not the other way around. It's not your fault.”

“I know. I know that. I do. There just has to be a reason, because—fuck—the truth would just be too fucked up.”

“...And that is?”

It takes a long, still minute before they can get their words out.

“...It’s—it's that—” Their cries are verging on sobs, increasingly more staggered and uncontrollable. “It's that s-some kids—are just—some kids have parents that will never—never love—”

They can't finish. Their sobs have overtaken their whole body. Their body's hunched over the counter, curled into themself. Carmy can't think of a time where he's ever seen them crying so hard.

Without another word, Carmy pulls them into a hug. 

They cry for a long time. Through it all, fleeting condolences pass Carmy by in his head, but they all feel too cheap, too meaningless. So all he does is hold them tight, letting them grab onto his shirt and soak the fabric on his shoulder. It's all he feels he can really do. 

After a while, the tide subsides. He feels them wilting in his arms, exhausted from sobbing so violently. He doesn't actually want to let them go, but their sniffling nose sounds like it's completely stopped up. 

“I'm gonna get you some tissues, ok?” He says quietly. They make a quiet noise of acknowledgement, and they pull back. He snatches up a box of tissues from the coffee table. He places it in front of them before grabbing them a glass of water. 

“Thank you,” they mumble, voice scratchy. Carmy stands and watches as they blow through several tissues. The water gets downed instantaneously. 

“Better?”

“Yeah. A lot better.”

“Good.”

“...I think, deep down, I know I didn't deserve what happened. Or just having shitty parents in general.” They sigh. “It's just easier to think that I do. That I deserve it.”

“...Yeah.” That resonates with a part of him he's not quite ready to acknowledge. “You're one of the kindest people I've ever met,” he admits quietly. “If someone like you deserves a shitty hand in life, I'm fucked.”

“Carmy…” Their smile is small, but genuine. “Thank you. I want to be able to genuinely believe that, one day. I'm going to try.”

“I know. I get it.”

“I know you do.” 

That makes both of them smile, even if it's bitter. 

“Thanks for telling me. About everything.”

“No, thank you for listening. For just being there for me.” They prop their chin in their hands, their elbows resting on the counter. “Y'know, this past year, I've been trying to find a sense of joy in all this mess. Sometimes it just feels so far away, like…like any happiness is just impossible. But I think I've found it. Rather, I've already found it.”

“Yeah?” Carmy looks at them expectantly, but he never expected this—

“I found you,” they tell him. 

“...” He immediately fixes his shocked expression. He's at a loss for words. 

Me?

“I never found a chance to mention it, but…my parents are the reason I decided to live with you. That's why I wanted to be your roommate, even though we were strangers.” They shrug shyly. “My lease was up on my last place. I was gonna go home, but then all that stuff happened at the last minute, and…yeah. I needed to find a place to live.”

“Seriously?” They just nod. “Damn. Uh…Yeah, that's fucking crazy. I had no idea.”

“At the time, I was miserable. I kept thinking to myself, ‘I can't believe how shitty this situation is!’ Don't get me wrong, it was fucking awful, but…it led me to you, so…it wasn't really all that bad, in the end. I got lucky.”

Fucking hell, he thinks to himself. Fuck.

“If you hadn't roomed with me, I wouldn't have been able to come back home for my brother's restaurant,” he says, mostly because he's so embarrassed that he swears his whole body's red at this point. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. “I think I'm the lucky one.”

“Can't we both be lucky?”

“I guess we can. Just doesn't seem very realistic.”

“Little too late to say that. It's already real.”

“...There's no other shoe?”

“Not that I know of. I think the other shoe's already dropped for us a while ago. Surely there's no other shoes left?”

“I hope not. I don't know if I could take another one.”

“Me neither.”

“...”

“...”

“Do you…want to eat your cake now?”

“Fuck, oh my god—I completely forgot! Yes!”

Just as Carmy planned, the flavors go perfectly together. Even though he knew it was going to be delicious, when he takes the first bite of the cake, relief washes over him. They seem to be overjoyed, inhaling the cake at dangerous speeds. 

“You're gonna hurt yourself if you eat that fast,” he observes, both amused and concerned. 

“Can't talk. Need to eat this.” That makes him laugh so abruptly he nearly gets cake up his nose. “This is the best birthday cake I've ever had, both visually and taste-wise.”

“I'm glad. Like I said, I'm not really a baker, but…I make an alright cake.”

“You make a fantastic cake.” They’ve got a bit of frosting on the corner of their mouth. “It doesn't get much better than this—eating a cake made by you.”

“Because I'm a chef, you mean?”

“No, not that. Not just that, anyway,” they amend with a cheeky grin. “Because you're my best friend.”

You're my best friend.

…

I'm their best friend, he repeats to himself. I'm their best friend.

He thinks about crying. He won't cry, but he thinks about it.

“Oh,” he replies intelligently. “...Really?”

“Y-Yeah. Unless, uh, you don't—”

“You're my best friend too,” he blurts out, and the anxiety on their face fades away into a relieved, beautiful smile. 

“Thank god. That would've been pretty awkward if you didn't…” They shake their head. 

“I've never been anyone's best friend before,” he confesses. 

“Seriously?” They recover from the shock quickly. “Lucky me, then.”

“I thought you established we were both the lucky ones.” 

“Oh, right.” They chuckle. “Lucky both of us, then.”

Carmy thought that life would always be the same. He thought that he was fated to a routine of nausea and nightmares, never quite close enough to reach a rest point. He thought that he was okay with it being his fate, because he never knew anything else. 

He thought that loneliness, cigarettes, and memories would be enough, because it always stays the same. Nothing ever changes. 

Until them. 

He thought he had outgrown happiness, that his body had grown accustomed to living without it. That there was no longer space in his heart to withstand the weight of joy. But as he sits here with his roommate, chatting and laughing over a cake he made for them, he finds that's not true.

His capacity for happiness had never left. It had been there all along. 

And with that, something in him lets go.

Carmy sees it all at once. It starts from the beginning—he sees the first day he met them, an initially hesitant meeting gone surprisingly well. He sees the first time the two of them smoked together, deliriously laughing through shared smoke. He sees them in the mornings, messy hair and wrinkled t-shirts. He sees them in nothing but an apron. He sees them in tight black clothes that leave little to the imagination. He sees them laughing at a joke that he didn’t think was all that funny. 

He sees them in his dreams, red tomato puree bleeding from their gums. He sees them holding his trembling hands in theirs, soothing him back down from the storm in his hand. He sees them comforting him through his tears. He sees them sobbing, hot tears on their cheek and his hand. He sees them heaving into the toilet, whispering that they want to know him. He sees himself, embracing them tightly in his arms. 

He sees it all. He knows that he can't avoid it anymore. 

Carmy is completely, undeniably in love with them, and there is absolutely nothing that he can do to make that realization disappear.

…Some things, he understands, refuse to stay the same.

~

@zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @carmenbrzatto @thehouseofevangelista

[jpmarvel90]

Forgotten Birthday

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Relationship: Scarlett x Reader

Summary: It's Y/n's 30th birthday but it seems like no one else has remembered.

Word Count: 4414

Y/n’s POV:

I was led in bed, snuggled next to my beautiful girlfriend Scarlett, excited to be turning 30 tomorrow. She had arrived home this morning on a break from filming which perfectly coincided with my birthday weekend. I had no idea what was planned to celebrate. When we spoke about it I told her that I didn’t care as long as I got to spend it with her. I had suggested spending the day at the beach as it was a special place to us. But she had told me she had it all under control and it would be a surprise.

I couldn’t sleep as I was excited to have her home in my arms. She had been really busy with filming so was pretty exhausted. I was happy being that creep that watches their girlfriend sleep. I was admiring her beauty and taking in every detail of her face. I loved this woman with all my heart and the last 2 years we had been together, were the best 2 years of my life!

I eventually fell a sleep myself but was woken up by a phone ringing. In my sleepy state I turn over and feel that Scarlett’s side of the bed is empty. As I start to wake up, I check my phone and see that it’s 6am. Before I can get out of bed, I hear Scarlett’s voice coming from the bathroom before she re-entered our bedroom.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m so sorry, but I’ve been called in to work. They’ve had an issue with some of the takes we did last week, and they need us to do the reshoots today or we’ll fall too far behind schedule.” Scarlett explained whilst starting to get ready.

“Oh, ok. How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” I asked, feeling slightly sad that I would get to spend the day with her. “I don’t know. But it sounds like it’s going to be a long day. But don’t worry, I’ve still got the week off after so we can hang out then.” Scarlett responds coming to sit on the bed next to me.

She starts running her hand through my hair smiling down at me. “Go back to sleep and enjoy the day to yourself.” She said placing a gentle kiss on my lips before leaving the bedroom. I was too shocked to respond. Was this a joke? Had she forgotten my birthday? I quickly jump out of bed and rush downstairs only to see that she has already gotten in the car and was pulling out of the drive.

I felt a bit deflated, but I know what the job is like. I’m sure she’s got plans for dinner and we can spend time together then. I slowly make my way back into bed and lie flat on my back looking at the ceiling. Well, this wasn’t how I expected my birthday to go.

I must have fallen back asleep as I’m woken up by my alarm at 9am. I check my phone and I’ve not had any messages, but I know that Scar will have been busy and she’s probably just trying to get everything done so she can get home quicker.

I decide to drop Lizzie a text to see if she is free to hang out instead as I sure as hell am not spending my 30th sitting around my house on my own.

Y/n:

Hey Liz, are you free today? Do you want to hang out?

Lizzie:

Hey Y/n/n! I’m so sorry I’ve been called into filming today so can’t. Hope you find someone to hang out with.

I looked at her response disappointed. I drop a few others a text but most of them were either on set or busy. I was a bit frustrated, not one person from my friend group had messaged me to wish me a happy birthday. At least my own team love me enough to remember.

Whilst sat at the kitchen island I was thinking about what I can do to enjoy my day. I can still have fun even if no one is here to spend it with me. Unfortunately, I can’t think of anything that would be fun to do on my own, so I end up throwing on some workout clothes and heading to the gym.

I spend a couple of hours at the gym, and it helps to vent some of the frustration I was feeling. However, it as still only lunch time so I had more time to kill. Once I had gotten back home, I opened my phone to see a text from Scarlett that made my heart drop.

Scar &lt;;3:

I’m so sorry babe, but it looks like I’m going to be working here late so I’m just going to crash in my trailer. I’ll be back home tomorrow for lunch. I love you xx

I re-read the message a number of times and I really couldn’t believe it. She had actually forgotten. There was a part of me that thought this was part of an elaborate plan for a birthday surprise. But nope, my girlfriend had just forgot my birthday.

Y/n:

Oh, ok. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.

I don’t want to respond but I don’t want to be a dick, so I send a very short message and throw myself onto the couch. My phone buzzes almost instantly and I look excited that it might have been Scar. But it was just an Instagram notification. I open the app and see that my sister has tagged me in a post.

The post consisted of two photos. One of us as little kids and one of us that we took the last time I was able to make it back home to England. I looked at the time and realised that my sister would be home from work by now so gave her a call. We talked for 45 minutes but I didn’t tell her that Scar had forgotten. I just said I was waiting to see what the birthday surprise was, and she seemed happy with that response.

It was now 3pm and I had had enough of sitting around moping at home. I hadn’t had any lunch, so I decided to go out for some food. I go to my favourite Thai restaurant which is close to the beach. I decide to grab a taxi as I’m going to celebrate my birthday properly and I plan on drinking… a lot.

After I’ve paid the taxi driver, I make my way into the restaurant and the owner greets me like family, as Scarlett and I eat here so regularly. “Y/n, my favourite customer! Are you here to celebrate your birthday?!” He asks. I smile at the fact that he has remembered, but I’m also frustrated that the owner of my favourite restaurant can remember my birthday, but my girlfriend can’t.

“Hi Duan, where else would I want to spend it?” I ask giving him a big smile as he leads me to my favourite table with a view of the ocean. “Would you like a drink whilst you wait for Miss Johansson?” Duan asked whilst pulling out my chair for me. “I’ll take a beer please and it’ll just be me today, so I’ll just take my usual order if that’s ok?” He gives me a suspicious look but thankfully doesn’t probe any further.

I spend the next couple of hours enjoying my food and drinking my beer. Duan and his wife join me in between dishes and I really enjoy catching up with them both. They are a huge part of why I kept coming back, and also why it was where I brought Scarlett on our first date. It also helped that the food is amazing here!

As time ticked on, I paid my bill and made my way to a bar on the beach. I sat on a table looking out to sea and watched the perfect view of the sunset whilst I carried on drinking. As I started to feel buzzed, I thought it as best to stop drinking. Although all I wanted to do right now as get drunk and forget about my shitty day, the adult part of my brain was telling me I needed to be sensible.

Instead, I decided to just walk along the beach, and I stopped at the point where I had asked Scarlett to be my girlfriend. Just over 2 years ago I stood here and confessed my love to her and promised that I was hers and only hers. But stood in this spot now I just felt alone.

I know it might seem dramatic to be this upset about a birthday, but I was so excited to have the whole weekend with Scarlett. The last 2 birthdays I’ve had with her have been quick visits due to work. But this year it meant even more as I knew I wouldn’t be able to see my family this time. Even though I’ve been in LA for the last 8 years, they have always come out for my birthday. But this year they couldn’t make it. But it was ok, because Scarlett was meant to be here.

I don’t notice that I’ve got a few tears falling down my face, which I quickly wipe away. I don’t want to stay in this spot any longer, so I make my way to the far end of the beach where it’s most quiet and away from the bars and restaurants that line the beaches’ edge.

Finding a nice spot, I sit in the sand and watch the waves gently lap against the shore, the moon shining down on the water. I love the beach and the ocean. It makes me feel calm and at peace. It’s what I need right now. I may not have had the birthday I wanted, but at least I got to spend it at the beach.

Scarlett’s POV:

I hated leaving Y/n this morning. I had only finished filming yesterday but here I am back on set to reshoot the scenes which hadn’t come out like they had wanted. Most of the cast had been dragged to set and most had the same feelings as me. Frustration.

It was a long day. By lunch I knew it was going to be a late finish so I deicide to just stay at my trailer tonight so I don’t disturb Y/n when I get home. She’ll probably be glad for a day to herself as I know she’s been busy with her own work at the recording studio these last couple of weeks.

I dropped her a text to let her know that I wouldn’t be home tonight and when I checked my phone later that day, I saw a message from Y/n.

Y/n:

Oh, ok. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.

Well, that seems off. No “I love you” or kisses at the end. She’s definitely pissed off! I thought she would understand it’s a work emergency. We still have the whole week off together. I decide to give her a call and check that she’s ok before I head back to set, but it goes straight to voicemail. That’s odd, but I try not to think too much of it and get back to work.

Finally, we finish up the last scene for the day and it’s 10:30pm. We actually managed to finish up a bit earlier than planned but we decided that we’d grab take out together as a group as none of us had had dinner. Once we’re all out of costume the Russo brothers come over to join us.

“We both just wanted to say thank you so much for coming in so last minute today. Getting everything done today means we can keep on schedule for the rest of the shoot. Scarlett, we also want to say a special thanks to you for coming in when I know you had plans for Y/n’s birthday. I hope that you can still make something of your day.” My stomach dropped and I felt sick.

The rest of the cast’s eyes were wide, and they stared at me as I felt the colour drain from my face. “Wait what? It’s not Y/n’s birthday today. What’s the date?” I said confused, surely, I hadn’t forgotten my girlfriend’s birthday! “It’s June 3rd” Lizzie said with a shake in her voice. “FUCK!” I yell. I start pacing and now it all makes sense why she seemed sad this morning and then the text I got from her this afternoon.

I quickly grab my phone and call her, but it is still going straight to voicemail. “God damn it!” I am so angry at myself I can barely control it. “It’s ok Scar I’m sure she’ll understand. She’s probably found someone else to spend it with.” Chris says trying to comfort me. “That’s not the point Chris! I’m her girlfriend and I forgot her 30th birthday! How can I forget when I was going to pro…..” I cut myself of quickly. “Fuck she’s going to hate me!” I thought to myself.

I tried ringing again but got the same result. “I’m going to head home, she’s probably asleep.” I said, trying to convince myself that everything is ok, even though I know she never turns her phone off. “Do you want me to come with you?” Lizzie asked pulling me into a hug. I nod knowing that I need the company at the moment.

We make our way to the car and I start driving home. “How can I forget Lizzie? It’s not like I hadn’t planned anything for it. I had the perfect night planned and now it’s ruined.” I say, still trying to understand how my brain just forgot. “You’re not the only one who forgot Scar. She messaged most of us today to see if we wanted to spend the day with her, but we were all on set. None of us wished her a happy birthday.” Although Lizzie was trying to make me feel better, it actually just made me feel worse. She had spent her birthday alone. 

When we pulled up to the house, I saw her car in the driveway but noticed all the lights were off. She was probably asleep. I quickly get out of the car and unlock the door. It’s eerily quiet. I make my way up to our bedroom and open the door slowly. “Baby…” I say into the darkness. As my eyes adjust to the light, I see that the bed is made, and no one is in it.

I search the rest of the house, but she’s not there. I meet Lizzie back in the kitchen, and she has a sad look on her face. “She’s not here. I’m worried Lizzie. It’s gone midnight and she’s not answering her phone.” I said panicked, running my hand through my hair. “It’s ok, we’ll find her. Where do you think she would be?” Lizzie asked, pulling out her phone to text the others.

I think for a while. When she’s pissed off, her go to is to find a bar and have a drink. But there are too many bars to even think where she could be. But she also loves the ocean. “I think we should head to the beach, she’s probably in one of the bars down there.” I say walking back out of my house to me car.

“What were you going to say when we were talking on set earlier? You cut yourself off before continuing.” Lizzie asked as we made the journey to the beach. “I uh, I had planned to propose…” I started but before I could finish Lizzie was squealing in her seat. “Oh my God! That is so exciting! How are you going to do it?” She excitedly questioned. “Ok calm down! I don’t think it’s going to happen now. If I didn’t have doubts about her answer before I do now!” I said trying to fight back the tears which were threatening.

Lizzie reached over and placed her hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze. “Scar, she loves you more than anything. Yes, she will be pissed at you for today, but she’s not doing to reject you because of it.” Her calming voice helps me relax slightly. “Do you have a ring?” She asked. I nodded in response. “It’s actually in the glove box.” I whisper.

Lizzie slowly opens the compartment and pulls out the ring box. As she opens it, she gasps slightly. “Scar, it’s beautiful!” I don’t respond. I had been so caught up with work, the proposal had kind of fallen out of my mind. Which is ridiculous because I’m crazy about Y/n. She’s my light, my world. I wasn’t doing a very good job at showing that right now.

The rest of the journey is silent, but thankfully not too long. We split up and go into different bars seeing if Y/n is there. It’s the 3rd bar that I go in where they said she was in there a couple of hours ago but had gone for a walk on the beach. I grab Lizzie and head straight to our spot on the beach. The place I had actually planned on proposing to her.

She wasn’t there so we started to walk along the beach. My panic slowly growing. If she wasn’t here, I had no idea where she could be. As we’re reaching the end of the beach, I’m ready to give up but then I see a body laid out on the sand. The closer I get the more I recognise who it is. Shit, I start to run. “Y/N! BABY! Are you ok?!” Lizzie is hot on my tail ready to call for help when thankfully Y/n moves as I land next to her.

I place my hands on her cheeks, tears now falling down my cheeks. “Oh, thank God, you’re ok!” I whisper whilst pulling her to a seated position and wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. “I am so sorry babe! I know I can’t make up for it, but I promise that I didn’t mean to. God you had me so worried.” I ramble into her neck not letting her go. Y/n doesn’t say anything, she just hugs me back. “I no there is no excuse for forgetting your birthday, especially your 30th. All I can say is I’m sorry, please forgive me. I’m here now” I’m pleading with her now, but she pulls away from my hug.

“It’s not my birthday Scar.” She says simply, not making eye contact. “What do you mean?” I asked confused. She looks at her watch and says, “well as of 27 minutes ago, it stopped being my birthday.” I hadn’t realised the time. I didn’t make it. I turn her face towards me, and I can just see the hurt in her eyes. “Please talk to me” I say.

She takes a breath before speaking. “I don’t know what to say Scar. I know it’s just a birthday, but no one remembered except my team and my sister. Even my parents forgot. But I could cope with that, because the only person I wanted to spend my birthday was with you. But I get it, work is important.” My heart broke right there on the spot. Tears slowly fall down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and stood up breaking away from my arms.

“Y/n, please wait. Don’t go.” I said, reaching out to grab her arm. I look at Lizzie and she is shaking her hands at me to do something. Luckily Y/n stops, so I walk in front of her. She’s a couple of inches taller than me, so I reach up and lift her head that was hanging towards the floor, my hands resting on either cheek.

“Y/n, nothing is more important to me than you. I know today I haven’t exactly proven that to you. I let work get all too consuming and I forgot the most important day of the year. I had all these things planned for your birthday. I really did. But I ruined it and I don’t know if I can fix it.” I said sadly. “What did you have planned?” She asked me, looking up at me now.

“I was going to make you breakfast in bed, obviously pancakes, your favourite. Then I had hired a boat for us to take out into the bay so we could snorkel and swim out in the ocean. For dinner I was going to take you to Siam Thai, as I know that’s your favourite and then I wanted to end the night at our spot on the beach to watch the sunset and…uh yeah…” I trailed off at the end, not wanting to mention the proposal.

“That sounds like a perfect day. All my favourite things with my favourite person” Y/n whispered with a small smile on her face. “I think maybe now’s the time Scar.” I heard a voice behind me and forgot that Lizzie was still here. “Really, now when I’ve screwed up so badly.” Lizzie shakes her head and Y/n squeezes my hand. “What are you two on about?” She asks with a confused look on her face. I look back to Lizzie and I see her shake her hand at me with the small black box in it.

I nod and she quickly throws it in my direction. “This wasn’t how I wanted this to happen. It was meant to be perfect, but I love you and I hope this might make you realise how much and that I really am all in with you.” Y/n still has a confused look on her face unsure what is happening. I take a deep breath.

“I had planned for me to do this at our spot with the sun setting in the background, but this is romantic too with the moon reflecting on the water. We’ll just pretend that Lizzie isn’t creepily stood behind that tree.” I said, causing us both to laugh. I looked over a Lizzie again and she has her phone out recording.

“Y/n, baby. June 3rd is my favourite day, because it was the day you were born. The world became a better and brighter place on that day because you came into it. I love this day because it lets me celebrate the person that I am madly and deeply in love with. These last 2 years have been the best of my life. When I’m with you I feel safe, protected, loved and unbelievably happy. You have taught me how to love myself again whilst you have shown me unconditional love. The days when I am away from you, I crave to be with you. With you I want for nothing. Because you are all I need. But today, well yesterday technically, I was the worst girlfriend to you. I made you feel forgotten and unloved, which I hope you realise, you never are. I know I don’t deserve you because you deserve to be given the world and I failed to do that for you. But I hope you can forgive me and see that I am stood here in front of you, giving all of me to you. Now I had planned to do this on your birthday, because I wanted to show how, for me, it will always be you. I wanted to celebrate you by giving you a gesture of how unconditional my love is for you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Y/n. I want to have a family with you and grow old with you.” I let go of Y/n’s hands and get down on one knee in the sand. I open the ring box before holding it out in front of me.

“Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, would you do me the greatest honour of marrying me?” I feel like I’m holding my breath as I wait for her to answer. Her hands fly to her face and I can see the tears in her eyes. She bends down in front of me and pulls me into a loving kiss. It is different to any kiss we’ve had, full of every feeling we want to say.

She pulls away and I find myself chasing her lips. I open my eyes when I hear her chuckle. “Yes, of course I will marry you! I love you” She responded with the biggest smile on her face which mirrored my own. I grabbed the ring and placed it on her finger. It fitted perfectly. She looked down and admired it before pulling me back into a passionate kiss, knocking me onto the sand.

“You know, I think I like this spot better than our other, it’s much more secluded.” I whisper seductively into Y/n’s ear. She giggles as she straddles me going back in for another kiss. “It’s not entirely secluded right now!” We hear Lizzie yell from her spot by the tree. Both of our faces go red with embarrassment. Y/n stands up and holds out her hands for me to take. She pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear. “We can come back tomorrow.”

I can feel my cheeks go an even darker shade of red as her lust filled eyes meet mine. We made our way over to Lizzie who squealed and jump at both of us. “Yay! I’m so happy for you both! Congratulations!” She said holding us both in a tight hug. We talked for a while before making our way back up to the car park.

We gave Lizzie a ride back home and then made our own way back. Whilst driving, I had my hand on Y/n’s thigh. Every chance I had I would steal a look or a kiss, when we were at a red light. I couldn’t get enough of her.

That week I made sure to make up for forgetting Y/n’s birthday. Our friends had arranged a surprise belated birthday/engagement party and I managed to fly Y/n’s family out to celebrate too. Although Y/n forgave me, it took me a while to forgive myself. I promised that I would never let me fiancé believe she was forgotten or unloved again.

[harlowsbby]

Birthday Shenanigans

If felt as if it was yesterday that Jack was just turning 24 but now not even a year later he was turning 25. Jack didn’t really love doing much on his birthdays he’d rather spend his birthday with you but you were making sure that this year was going to be memorable.

You’ve spent so much money on birthday decor it wasn’t even funny and when Urban or Neelam tried pitching in you denied the help, you wanted to do this for Jack.

You’ve been up since 4am that following morning setting out balloons and streamers trying to figure out which colors went together and which ones didn’t, you even had a different variety of color cups that said. Single, Taken or It’s complicated on that cup.

You had somehow convinced Jack to spend te night at Nemo’s last night so that way you’d be able to set up with Neelam and Taylor while Nemo and everyone else tried to entertain Jack for the day.

“Y/N, do you want the blue and yellow balloons to be blown up and formed into an arch or do you want the white and blue?” “The blue and white should look good together.” She nodded and went ahead and got to work while Neelam struggled with the streamers.

“It’s not twisting the way it needs to be twisting, I’ve tried hanging them from the ceiling but it won’t hang right.” She groaned in frustration. You rolled your eyes playfully but went and helped her and showed her the correct way. “See like this, now just twist it a few times and stick it to the ceiling.” You huffed and went back to what you were working on.

Taylor giggled while Neelam’s eyes widened. They both knew how you got whenever it came to planning an event so they knew not to take anything personal.

“Why are you putting so much effort into this party Y/N? You know Jack would’ve been fine with just going to the bowling alley or something.”

Neelam had a point you didn’t have to go all out and you knew Jack would be a bit disappointed that you’ve spent so much money on tonight but he was worth it, Jack always made sure to go above and beyond for your birthday so you wanted to return that feeling.

“He just deserves it I mean he always makes sure my birthday is one that I’ll never forget and I just want to do the same.” The two of them coo’d at you.

“What’s the best birthday he’s done for you so far?” Taylor asked. “Probably when he rented out that bounce house place, remember how fun that was.” You all laughed as you remembered that day like it was yesterday.

flashback

“Druski, please no jumping near the kids I can’t afford a lawsuit right now.” Neelam panicked and went to deal with that situation, Urban and Ace thought it would’ve been fun to dare Drusk to swing on the ropes that just so happened to be where the kids were playing.

“What is wrong with them.” Jack laughed as he approached you, he swung his arm around your shoulder and brought you into him. “Those are you friends baby.” Looking up at him you watched how he smiled and laughed at everyone, his beard was freshly groomed and you loved how lose his curls looked today.

Everyone was wearing a t-shit with your face on it, Jack had made it mandatory, everything was pink themed you didn’t know how he managed to do that but you were beyond grateful.

“Thank you for this Jack I appreciate it so much.” He smiled and looked down at you. “Anything my baby wants she’s going to get.” Grinning you grabbed him by the collar of his next and brought him down a bit and smashed your lips onto his.

He was a bit off guard by your sudden action but none the less he kisses you back. “Hey, enough with all that PDA we have kids around and I need help, Druski and Urban are about to jump from the top of the foam ramp I need to get the kids out of the ball pit.” Clay urged and quickly ran over to Druski and Urban.

“Next time I’m making sure they stay home.” Jack groaned and followed after Clay. “Let’s just join them.” That’s exactly what you did everyone just took turns jumping into the ball pit and playing games like Marco Pollo.

flashback over

While the three of you reminisced over past birthday parties, Jack on the other end was beyond stressed and annoyed.

“Why can’t I go home? I miss my girl and Urban you stink man.” Jack was stuck in a car with Urban, Ace, 2fo and Nemo, Ace was driving around trying to find something to do that’ll pass the time till you texted him to start heading over to the house.

“The question is why do you want to go home so badly? You don’t want to spend your birthday with your brothers?” Ace poured through the review mirror. “Technically I’m his only brother.” Clay chimed in. “You know what I mean Clay.”

“Look I love you all but I miss Y/N, I just wanna shower and be in bed with her.” They all aww’d at Jack. “Let’s just stop at the grocery store then we can head back to your place alright?” Nemo asked him, you had texted him saying you needed ice and then it was safe for them to all head over.

Jack huffed but agreed on going to the store, as long as he was going to see you after he didn’t care what they did.

He opened up his phone and went to his messages and texted you.

Baby 💗

- I miss you so much 😕

“I think your phone is ringing Y/N.” Maggie said, looking down at your phone you noticed it was a message from Jack. “It’s the birthday boy, he said he misses me.” Everyone coo’d including Bryson.

“You definitely got that man wrapped around your finger.” Bryson joked making everyone laugh. “Oh I know I do and I love that for me.” You texted him back saying you missed him as well and that you’d see him soon.

Jack ❤️

- I’ll see you soon Jack, I love you more I can’t wait to give you kisses 🥺💗.

He blushed at your message and smiled. “You two are so cute.” He looked up seeing 2fo practically breathing down his neck. “Wha- what 2fo leave me alone!”

Jack wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to take in this car but he was hoping he’d be out of it soon.

————————————————————————

“Are they almost near?” Neelam asked you while placing Jack’s and Urban’s Pokémon themed cake on the kitchen table, even though it was Jack’s birthday they were also celebrating Urban’s as well.

“Yep Nemo said they are just now pulling up so everyone let’s get in positions.” Everyone scrambled around to find a good hiding place, Maggie and You crouched behind the kitchen counter.

“I can’t see anything.” Jack’s voice came from the hallway. “That’s the point Jack just shush and go along with it.”

“What if you’re all trying to kill us.” Urban added on, since he was blindfolded as well. “Please the two of you goofball aren’t worth jail time.” Ace said.

Once you heard the doorbell giggle and open a crack that’s when you quickly switched the light on and everyone jumped up screaming “Happy Birthday Jack and Urban!!”

“Wait you guys did all of this for us?” Jack smiled wide but his smile widened even more when he finally made eye contact with you, he made grabby hands meaning he wanted you to come closer to him.

“Well more like Y/N did, we all just helped her but she really put all of this together.” Bryson said.

Jack looked down at you and smiled, “You know you didn't have to do all of this baby, I would've been completely fine with just spending the night with you.”

"I know I didn't but I did this because I love you and you’re always spoiling me so it’s only right I spoil you back, but you won’t be getting your gift till later on tonight, if you know what I mean.” You winked at him and removed yourself from his hold to go mingle and party. He raised his eyebrows and smirked but followed after you.

Eventually the party ended up dying down Jack and You laid on the couch together. Him laying down with you laying on top of him. He rubbed small circles on your back. “Thank you again baby for this I had fun.” When you didn’t respond he looked down at you and shook his head seeing your fast asleep.

“Sweet dreams baby, I love you so so much you have no fucking idea.” Jack was thankful that night he was thankful he had his friends and family and most of all he was thankful he had someone like you.

taglist

@neon-lights-and-glitter @jackmans-poison

@jackharloww @a-moment-captured

@awhore4moree @nattinatalia

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow

@itsyagirljaz @moody4world

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Twenty-four is one year too young for a quarter-life crisis, but hey, Colin's always been an overachiever. He's got a degree in Sustainable Tourism, which his family says he's wasting as a barista, an annoying anxiety disorder, and no freaking idea what to do with his life.

The only thing going his way is the cute coffee shop regular, a homo draconis named Dav (who, in his humanshape, is a total hottie.) Still, it'd be easier if Dav didn't have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire when he's startled. Like the café kitchen.

When Dav breaks draconic taboo and volunteers as a replacement bean-roaster to apologize for the inferno meet-ugly, sparks really fly. Everything's finally happening for Colin, until he learns that hooking up with Dav means that under dragon law, Colin is absorbed into Dav's hoard.

Possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but becoming his boyfriend's property does not make this whole identity crisis thing easier. Especially now that Colin must navigate politics, paparazzi, and legal questions about his personhood. Colin's still angling for his Happily Ever After, but the growing scrutiny on his relationship with Dav threatens their budding romance.

And if he's not careful, Colin's fight for agency may just destroy symbiotic human/dragon relationships worldwide.

🐉☕❤️

A sassy, queer, alternate universe romance from Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2011 author J.M. Frey. Wrapped in discussions of autonomy and colonialism, Nine-Tenths meets in the middle between Red, White & Royal Blue and the Temeraire series.

🐉☕❤️

Part One

There's this thing in stories called the "inciting incident". 

And mine? It's a goddamn doozy.

It’s the part of the book, right at the start, where the lovers have their meet-cute, the farm boy leaves for the wider world, the Chosen One is attacked by her first evil monster, blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean. It's the place where everything opens up and you have no idea what you're in for—only that it'll be exciting.

I know all about Inciting Incidents because I was going to be a writer.

No, I thought I was going to be a writer. Historical romance, that’s my jam. Dukes, rakes, windblown-gowns, dropped handkerchiefs, cliffside confessions—I am a slut for that stuff. Forget real history (totally flunked ‘We’re-Feeding-You-Colonialist-Narratives-Disguised-As-Education’ 101). Give me made-up kingdoms and far-flung pirates. Give me the fantasy of a happily ever after that lasts beyond ‘the end’. Give coffee and stories, and I am a content boy.

But right before he got sick, in the summer between my first and second year of university, my Dad and I had a serious talk about writing. How much work it is. How long it takes to start paying off. Backup plans.

And then… after, I thought, well, he wasn’t wrong. If life was going to be pointlessly, stupidly, cruelly short, then I should spend my time trying to do something good, right? I switched majors. Science makes sense. Science is logical. Science creates vaccines and saves lives. Science can bring species back from the brink of extinction. Science doesn’t break your heart.

All of this is to say that I can—with complete and utter certainty—point to the exact moment when my life became a trash fire. It was my twenty-fourth birthday, and my big sister Gemma gave me the dumbest, but totally plot-inciting gift: a sunrise alarm clock.

The Incident starts like this, in Mum’s pokey poppies-and-roosters kitchen, with Gemma leaning on the back of my chair: 

"I have a perfectly good alarm clock." I hold up my phone, then let it slap back down onto the plastic tablecloth. "Goes ding when there's stuff."

My sister heaves the kind of sigh only eldest-born siblings make, indulgent and frustrated at the same time. I love making her make that noise. It's hilarious.

"It wakes you up gently," Gem says. "So you’re not cranky."

"I’m not cranky in the mornings."

Everyone laughs. I may have snapped at Stuart this morning when he shook my foot through my childhood bed sheets like an aggressive chihuahua. Okay. So I'm cranky in the mornings.

"I don't see how it's supposed to work." Stu grabs the clock. "How can you see the light if your eyes are closed?"

As the younger brother of twin siblings, I am used to having the toys I’m playing with pulled out of my hands. Instead of trying to snatch it back, I fiddle with the iridescent green bow that was on my present, then stick it to my ear. Mum smirks at my accessory, but otherwise her prim little 'all my babies are home to roost' face stays in place.

I'm the only one of us who went away to school, and stayed away. Gem came back to live with Mum straight after she finished her undergrad, so Mum wouldn't be alone in the house. Stuart never left the city, though he's got his own place now. But that's why I stayed away after I graduated last year. Mum and Gem don't need me, and if I came back, Stu would try to get me to join his crew.

I go weak in the knees for the kind of person jacked enough to pick me up and consensually throw me around. Standing on a roof next to a whole crew of pretty roughs trying to help them replace shingles? That's gonna lead to me swooning and dying of a broken neck. Stu doesn’t want that on his conscience.

Because she's a bossy know-it-all, Gem takes my present from Stu and opens it to show me how it works. She huffs. "You can see sunlight through your eyelids. It just works, okay?"

Stu helps himself to another piece of my birthday cake, licking the icing off his fingers and the serving knife. Mum slaps the hand holding the knife, and Stu flushes up and sets it down. He descends on his third piece like a wolf, but at least now he's watching his manners.

"There's an instruction manual," I point out as Gem tosses the booklet on the table.

"The day you read the instructions," Mum says, "is the day I'll know for sure the fairies really swapped you."

It's an old joke, being the Changeling child. I'm the only one of them with dark hair. The rest of my family are blond as heck.

Mum’s grinning into that little curl in the side of her mouth that holds secrets. Dad always called it Mum's 'Peter Pan Kiss’. He'd wrap his arms around her waist and kiss that corner, and Mum would swat at him for ruining her lipstick.

Thinking about Dad reminds me he's dead.

I hate the swoop-and-stab sensation in my chest that comes with remembering. Especially when there's a moment you want to share, and you turn your head to his chair and start composing the sentence in your head: "Hey, Mum's doing that—" and then you stop.

You stop composing. Stop turning. Stop thinking about sharing. Stop breathing.

Because that chair is empty.

Dad's dead.

And you'll never get the chance to point out the Peter Pan kiss again. Or watch Mum swat him. Or listen to him tease us for falling for Mum's Old World fairy stories. Or hear his stupid har-har-har donkey laugh, thick with his French accent.

It's my birthday. 

He's not here. 

I'll have another birthday, next year, and he won't be there for that one either.

I try to control my breathing, but Mum hears it hitching. I'm already staring at Dad's terrible empty chair, so it's not like I can hide what I'm thinking about. Mum curls her fingers over my knuckles.

"I wish he was here too, mo leanbh," she says softly. 

Stu and Gem go quiet.

"Sucks," I cough out, deciding to give no one the pleasure of watching me actually cry. I'll save it for later, when I'm back in my own apartment. Not because of any kind of 'real men don't' toxic masculinity bullshit, but because I hate the fuss. They take the shit my therapist tells them about being my support network too much to heart.

"More tea, Mummers?" I ask instead.

"Time for something stronger, don't you think?"

Next Part | Read on Wattpad

Trailer Music: "A Thousand Years" by The Piano Guys Cover Art: @seancefemme

[youchangedmedestiel]

I wrote this ficlet before even knowing/thinking about Dean's birthday. But I think it fits well, especially because it's called "My old man". So, there it is (also available on AO3):

Claire came to the bunker this morning telling she was working on a case not so far from Lawrence and needed help especially about lore. Plus it was the occasion to see everybody.

She spent the whole morning with Jack working on finding things about her case. Jack got involved really fast as soon as he thought it was a kind of zombies. They are not sure what it is exactly so far, but they are still digging into the books in the bunker’s library right now, sitting side by side, and Dean joined to give them a hand, sitting across the same table, since Sam is out on another hunt with Eileen.

Claire is starting to be bored with all this research and decides that annoying Dean would be funny which it usually is. She notices him squinting while looking down at the book in front of him and takes the opportunity.

“Do you need some glasses to read, old man?” She asks, winking at Jack who lifted his head once he heard her talk, then she looks back at Dean to see his reaction, because that’s the fun part. Dean is bewildered at first and Claire does anything to hold back her laugh.

“I – no – I’m not THAT old. I – I don’t need glasses.” He stutters, frowning at her.

“Yeah sure, like you don’t ask Cas to bring you coffee because your old man’s knees hurt.” She adds and then looks back down at her book after she sees how wide Dean’s mouth opened.

“Wh – no.” Dean starts, frowning even harder, and looks at Jack, probably searching for back up here but he just looks back at Dean questioningly.

“You should stop frowning though because it’ll just add more wrinkles to your already wrinkled face.” Claire shouts, holding back another laugh that threaten to go out. It’s so easy to tease Dean. She loves doing it, especially to see his reactions.

“She’s right, you have lots of wrinkles around your eyes.” Jack observes, his gaze focused on the corner of Dean’s eyes. And Claire starts chuckling but turns it into a cough. But Dean didn’t notice because he is too focused on what Jack said. He doesn’t know what to say anymore, he is familiar with Claire messing with him, but he is also aware of Jack’s usual honesty, which hurts him more. Because if Jack says he looks old, then it must be true.

“I – I –“ He stammers as he touches the corners of his eyes with his index on each side of his face, when Cas enters the library with two mug filled with coffee in his hands.

“Come on Jack, I need a break, show me your room.” Claire suggests, getting up already, because this is not a question. Dean frowns at her knowing she is fleeing from Cas but then he remembers about the wrinkles and soften his face even if he still feels annoyed. Claire and Jack disappear quickly in the hallway, when Cas approaches the table where Dean is sitting.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks, as he puts Dean’s mug on the table and sits beside him.

“Cas, I’m old.” Dean says, trying to flatten his wrinkles around his eyes.

“Yes, and?” Cas answers, tilting his head, because he can’t find what is the problem here.              

“Gee, Cas. Please, don’t lie.” Dean throws in an ironical ton, Cas knows how to recognize it now. He got to experience it more than once through the years they spend together.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice is serious but soft.

“Claire told me I have wrinkles around my eyes and Jack agreed.” Dean explains, trying to keep a straight face to avoid having more of those.

“You do –“ Cas observes smiling, and adds “I love them.”

“What? You – you love my wrinkles?” Dean asks, making a weird face because it’s hard to be surprised while still trying to keep a straight face.

“Of course I do. Especially the ones near your eyes, those are witnesses of your smile.” Cas says as he leans forward and cradles Dean’s face, his fingertips stroking the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“That still makes me an old man.” Dean states jokingly, not being able to control his face from smiling at Cas’s cheesy comment anymore. 

“But you are MY old man, Dean.” Cas answers, fondly looking at the hunter.

“Well, can you heal my knees and my eyes, please?” Dean asks, flustered, lowering his face because he can’t look at him. “Of course.” Cas leans even forward, grabs Dean’s chin with his hand to lift his face up and kisses Dean’s mouth. It’s tender and warm. The angel’s healing grace shines between their lips and Dean feels Cas’s grace invade his body, feeling warm behind his eyes and in both knees. He also perceives a strange sensation in his stomach and heart, but that has nothing to do with the healing. It still comes from Cas but totally for another reason.

[elisysd]

Place in me - Luke Hemmings

Masterlist - Previously - Next Chapter

Call me in the morning, yeah I'm sorry that I let you down, I I'm so apathetic, it's pathetic But I need you now, now

Charles approached the Japanese Grand Prix with confidence, but with a certain anxiety. Confident because he was just back from a race where he had won. Apprehensive because of the memories linked to this track. Memories that he preferred to repress far, far away in his memory. But it was as if fate had decided that it wasn't going to leave him in peace. Conditions on Sunday were far from ideal. The track was soaked and Charles shared his concerns with Fred, who admitted that he wasn't at ease either. But despite the FIA's reluctance and the rain, which showed no sign of stopping, the race went ahead.

Getting up at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning was not what Lyanna had in mind when she thought about her weekend. But she had promised Charles that she would watch all his races, from free practices to the finish line. In addition, he was starting from P3, a position he didn't particularly like, but nonetheless he was in front and that made Lyanna happy. She had no doubt that he would be able to hold his position. But the rain and the commentators on television didn't reassure her. She couldn't wait for the race to finish. Firstly because she knew that Charles didn't really like Suzuka and secondly because it meant that he was coming home, something that Lyanna felt had not happened for far too long. She couldn't wait to see him walk through the doors of the flat and she had promised herself that as soon as he arrived, she wouldn't let him out of her sight. Besides, he was coming home just in time for her birthday and she couldn't wait to spend it in bed with him. Nothing but Charles and the few phone calls she felt compelled to take.

The race finally started and Charles quickly overtook Checo to follow in Max's trail. The rain was pouring down and Lyanna couldn't imagine what Charles could see, or rather not see, and feel. If she closed her eyes, it would make her want to throw up. With her eyes glued to the screen, she could see Charles battling with Max for P1 and even before the impact, she knew. She knew that neither of them would win the duel. And it was Charles who made the mistake in trying to overtake Max. The Ferrari's rear wheels locked, forcing him to adjust his trajectory and collide with Max. Both spun and hit the barrier.

Lyanna gasped, events of last year replaying in her head. But it wasn't long before she saw Max and Charles get out of the car, unharmed. She exhaled. They were fine.

She was the first person Charles called when he got back to the hotel. He was exhausted and angry, and unfortunately for Lyanna she soon realised that it was going to be up to her to find the words to comfort the Monegasque driver.

“You don’t understand Lyanna! It’s my fault. 100%. And I can’t afford to make stupid mistakes like this! Not now that I have a real chance at the championship, I can’t fuck it up.”

“You’re too hard with yourself… The track was completely wet because of the rain it could have happened to anyone, to Lewis or even Max. You’re a human Charles, not a robot.”

“It was a rookie mistake, Lyanna. I know better than that.” He said harshly.

“I’m just glad you are okay…” she whispered.

“You know what we always say, right? You know what I always promise you. You know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Repeat it, then.”

“Be fast, come back to me, I love you.”

“And I’m always fast, I always come back to you and I’ll always love you. Enough about me. Tell me about you, I feel like it’s been so log since we actually got a proper talk.”

“That’s because every time we’re on FaceTime your mind is always elsewhere but never on me.”

“I’m sorry about that. It’s just… this start of the season is already a lot…”

“I know. That’s why I don’t want to add to your problems or your stress.”

“You know you’ll never. So, how’s the shoot.”

“I’ve known better if I’m being honest. Don’t get me wrong, I love the movie and I trust Michael’s vision and you should see Adam Driver on set, he is magistral, but anyway. It’s a lot of pressure, a lot of work and it’s a range of emotions to portray that I’ve never done before. It’s exhausting. Fulfilling because I feel like I learn so much about myself, but hard and stressful. I can’t wait for you to get home… I... I just need you and your arms and your kisses… You. Only you.”

“And I’ll be all yours as soon as I stepped out of that plane, I promise you. Do you want to do something in particular for your birthday?”

“I want to do you. That’s it.” She jokingly said.

Charles was far from against the idea and if he was honest, it was something he was looking forward to. But he also knew how much his girlfriend loved her family and the place they occupied in her life. He wanted her to have a birthday to remember. And he wanted to be the person to give her that. His ego would feel flattered. After hanging up with Lyanna, he searched his contacts for Renée's phone number, which she had given him in case of emergency.

“Charles? You are the last person I expected a call from.” Lyanna’s mom greeted him after she picked up.

“Renée, hello. I hope you’re alright and I’m not bothering.”

“No, you don’t. Is everything okay with Lyanna? I’m assuming she is the reason why you call.”

“Yes, kind of… I wanted to ask you something.”

“If you are asking me for the permission to marry her, it’s a no. You still have to prove that you deserve her, young man.”

Charles was taken aback by the way she said it.

“Hum... well. I was not calling for that but it’s good to know… I guess? Hypothetically, if I wanted to ask you for permission, what should I do?”

“Don’t ignore her for starter. She told me what happened after your win in Bahrain. It didn’t make me happy to hear that, Charles. You promised me you would take care of her; I’m not asking you to be perfect, everyone is human and bound to make mistakes but… don’t play with her and her feelings. She went through enough.”

“I’ve already apologised to her, I kind of groveled if it can help. But anyway, it was not the reason of my call. I want to organize her a surprise birthday party and I was thinking of making you all fly out to Monaco to see her. It would make her so happy. And… I was also thinking that you all could meet my family since I wanted to invite them as well. Lyanna is close to them and I know my mom would be delighted to help to organize. She loves Lyanna.”

“Well… it’s very nice of you…”

“You don’t have to do anything. I can arrange a private jet and the hotel. You would just have to show up to the airport. Say yes, please. For Lya.”

Charles couldn't help jumping in joy and punching his fist in the air when Renée told him that she agreed and that she would take care of planning with the rest of the family. As soon as he had finished with his mother-in-law, he hurried off to phone his mother and explain his plans. Pascale was delighted and assured him that everything would be fine and that she would take care of everything. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and not reveal anything to the actress. So it was with great excitement that Charles set off the next day for Italy to meet up with his beloved.

Lyanna wasn't there when Charles arrived from the airport. He hadn't said exactly when he was coming back, wanting to surprise the young woman. On the way, he stopped at a florist and bought her a huge bouquet of red roses. He knew it wasn't original, but he didn't care. He took the time to put his things away and take a long hot shower before changing into comfortable clothes. He plugged his phone into the stereo in the living room before choosing an acoustic playlist to play in the background. When that was done, he settled into the sofa and closed his eyes, savouring the fact that he was home. Soon he heard a key turn in the lock and he sat up, ready to welcome Lyanna and shower her with kisses.

He had expected her magnificent smile to light up as soon as she saw him, but what he saw destabilised him. She was crying. And not just a little. Her glossy eyes found Charles and she burst into even more tears, if that were possible, before rushing into his arms and soaking his shirt.

“Love… Lya… Oh my god babe. Hey, talk to me.”

“I want to give up. I can’t go back there. I want to give up Charles” she was like a broken record repeating the same sentences again and again.

“Babe, come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.”

She pressed herself against Charles and wrapped her arms around his torso before burying her neck in his shoulder.

“I fucked up. We were supposed to shoot a scene and… and it was a hard one. It was about abuse. And…I freaked out. Something in me froze. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I got flashbacks from…” she shook her had as if she was trying to erase the memory. “And then everyone was staring at me, Michael wanted me to redo the whole scene from the top but I couldn’t Charles. I couldn’t. I ran away. I said that I couldn’t do it anymore and I left. They are going to be so mad. So mad. But I couldn’t stay there, I felt like I was drowning and I couldn’t breathe. It scared me.” She was rambling and Charles hugged her even tighter, kissing her forehead.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here, Lya, I’m here…”

“I’m so thankful you’re here. I thought you were coming back later and I would be alone and I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

He let her cry against him until she finally fell asleep, exhausted. He carried her to their bedroom and laid her on their bed. She tossed and turned, seeking the warmth of Charles' body. He joined her shortly afterwards and, naturally, she found herself back in his arms.

When Charles woke up a little later, it was still dark. The jet lag was beginning to wear on him, even though he was usually rather proud of the way he handled it. Lyanna hadn't moved an inch; she was still snuggled comfortably in his arms, her legs intertwined with his. Instinctively, he pulled her even closer to him and placed his lips on the top of her head. He didn't want to move, he felt good, peaceful. But a pang of worry pierced his heart. He couldn't help wondering how the young woman would be when she woke up.

With a gesture, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and looked at the time.  Barely five in the morning. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and that he risked waking Lyanna at any moment, who needed sleep so badly. He got up carefully and put on his workout clothes. His building had a gym, which was handy for him. He grabbed his airpods and left the room, then the flat, without a sound.

He returned an hour later, but not before stopping off at a café to pick up a takeaway breakfast for Lyanna and himself. He could hear the water running in the bathroom, which told him that Lyanna was awake, which was reassuring. He set the table, taking care to display the bouquet he'd bought the day before, which he hadn't had the chance to offer properly. Soon, the young woman's silhouette appeared in the doorway and it was a weary smile that Charles received when she saw him.

“How do you feel?” he asked her as he took her in his arms and gave her a light peck on the lips.

“Like shit. I’m supposed to be on the set in two hours… I don’t want to go…” she smiled gently at him as she saw the flowers on the table and inhaled the scent.

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“Actually… do you want to come with me today?”

Charles was used to cameras, but he had to admit that a film set was a very different environment from what he knew on a day-to-day basis. Lyanna didn't have to worry about a thing; as soon as she arrived, the director rushed over to her and asked if she was alright. Lyanna briefly explained how she had felt, without going into detail, and apologised profusely, which Michael Mann brushed aside with a wave of his hand.

Charles had spent many hours sitting in a corner in silence, admiring Lyanna as she worked. Seeing her in her element, confident and in control of every detail, giving her opinion, chatting and laughing with the other cast members, made him fall a little more in love with her. As soon as she could, she checked on Charles and made sure to introduce him to everyone, so that by lunchtime everyone knew Charles' name and knew that he was Lyanna's boyfriend.

Lyanna was free by mid-afternoon and wasn't needed on set until the end of the week, which was perfect for Charles as it would allow them to get back to Monaco where Lyanna's birthday was being held. Pascale had booked the same room where Charles had celebrated his birthday a few months earlier, and the orchestra and caterer had also been rebooked. Lyanna's family and friends were due to arrive the day before and Joris, Arthur and Lorenzo had been asked to drive everyone to the hotel. This way, Charles could take full advantage of his girlfriend without her suspecting anything.

On the morning of his birthday, Lyanna was the first to wake up and it was she who woke Charles up by placing light kisses on his stubble, his neck and then down his chest.

“Hey, you.” whispered Charles in a sleepy voice.

“Good morning, babe.” Lyanna replied with a twinkle in her eye.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.”

“Indeed. Do you know why?”

“I have an idea but please enlighten me.”

“It’s my birthday and you’re home and that means I have you to myself and let me tell you that I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

“Oh yeah? And what did you plan?”

“Oh so, so many things that don’t require for us to leave this bed.”

And true to her word, they stayed in bed all day. Lyanna ignored the messages and calls she received on her birthday, her family playing along with the idea that they were far away, when in reality they were only a few streets away from Charles's flat.

At the end of the day, and not without some difficulty, Charles managed to persuade Lyanna to get out of bed and go celebrate her birthday somewhere quiet and out of sight, just the two of them. He hated having to lie to her, but he hoped her reaction would be worth it. Lyanna pouted, unenthusiastic about the idea of going out.

“Lya, I made reservations and I really can’t cancel…”

“But I didn’t want to go out… I just want to be with you.”

“You got me all to yourself the whole day. You barely let me out of the bed to eat.”

“I didn’t hear you complain though…”

“Oh believe me, I’m not. It’s just that I want to spoil my girlfriend for her birthday and I want to please her because she deserves it. So let’s go out.”

“I must say that you did a really good job pleasing me the whole day and you can keep doing it without us having to leave the flat. It’s very convenient, it doesn’t require you to move and it’s completely free. No need to spend a penny on me. See, I’m really low maintenance.”

“I’m going to drag you out of here if I need to.”

“Can’t you just tell them that we will be going tomorrow?”

“We both need some fresh air. It will do us good.”

She continued to complain, but realising that Charles would not give in, she headed for the bathroom.

“I’m letting the door open, if you want to join me.”

“Lya, we can’t afford to be late and we both know that if I’m stepping even just a toe in this bathroom we will be very, very late.”

“You’re loss Leclerc, then.”

Charles shook his head and slipped out of the room, not wanting to be tempted more than necessary. He checked his messages nervously, his mother keeping him regularly informed of the evening's progress. He decided to call her to find out exactly how it was all shaping up rather than read the dozens of messages he had received throughout the day.

“Hey mom. How is going?”

“You would know if you were answering my texts! You really choose the right day to go full radio silence. Everyone is here, Charles. Where are you, guys?”

“On our way, don’t worry. We will be there in no time.”

“You haven’t left your place, did you?” it was not really a question, just a fact and Charles could almost picture his mom rolling her eyes.

“We’ve been a little bit carried away but don’t worry the situation is under control…”

“You had one job Charles, just to arrive on time.”

“Well, it was harder than expected…”

“What is hard? Because I sure can help with that.” Lyanna was just behind him completely oblivious to the fact that he was on the phone with his mom.

“There are some things that a mom doesn’t need to know. I’m going to leave you but please for the love of god, be quick.”

“I’ll try. I promise.” He hung up the phone and eyes his girlfriend. “My mom heard you and I think next time you’ll see her she is going to look at you in a very different way.”

“I’m sorry… but admit it, it’s funny. Just a little bit.”

“Having my mom knowing about our sex life is something funny to you?”

“Come on Charles, she is not stupid, she knows that you are not a sweet and pure and innocent little angel.”

“Of course! It doesn’t mean that she has to hear things!”

“She will be fine! What did she want, by the way?”

“Just to invite us for lunch tomorrow. Up for it?”

Charles was amazed at how easily lies slipped out of him.

Eventually they arrived outside the hotel where the birthday party was being held. Lyanna winced, quickly realising that Charles was not taking her to the quiet, intimate, relaxed place he had led her to believe.

“What did you do, Leclerc?”

“Spoiling my girlfriend. Come on, let’s get in.”

He got out of the car, handing his keys to the attendant as another employee opened Lyanna's door. Charles hurried to her side and offered her his hand, which she accepted.

She glanced suspiciously at Charles, who winked at her and smiled broadly. As soon as they entered the hotel lobby, they were directed to the private room, which Lyanna recognised. And that's when she saw them. All her family, her close friends and Sophia were there too. She was surprised to see Charles's family there too, along with Pierre and Kika, who had also travelled for the occasion. She even recognised Fred. She questioned Charles, who replied that his team principal had taken a liking to her, especially as he thought she was the reason why Charles was performing so well in this early part of the season. Emotion suddenly took hold of her and she felt tears welling up. Her mother was the first to come forward and give her a hug, soon to be joined by her best friend Emilie.

Charles gave them some space and went to talk to the other guests. The evening passed quickly and Charles could only feel his heart swell with joy at the happiness emanating from his girlfriend. She went from guest to guest, laughing, chatting and dancing. Just as he had found a quiet spot, Emilie came to join him.

“Charles Leclerc, finally I’m meeting you.”

“Emilie, right? Lya told me a lot about you.”

“It goes both ways. You are all she talks about when I have her on the phone… I feel like I know you without actually knowing you. Which is weird.”

She sipped her glass of champagne and sighed.

“I’m going to be honest if you don’t mind. Lya is my best friend, I might even dare to say she is the sister I’ve never had which is why I often feel the need to protect her. So don’t take it personally, but I made research on you.”

Charles almost choked on his drink.

“I found things that made me questioned your true motives with her. You don’t have the nicest dating history to be fair. I’ve got scared for her. Athletes don’t have the best reputation in terms of being faithful… But you make her happy, everyone can see that, even I. And I can see that you love her as well, not everyone would go out of their way to do something like that to someone if there were no real and deep feelings involved. ��I still don’t like you. But for now I’m going to tolerate you. But I’m watching you. One dick move and I will hunt you down.”

“Copy. Right and clear. But don’t worry, I intend to keep her for a very, very long time.”

As the evening wore on, he found Lyanna eating a piece of cake. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with excitement.

“I’m glad you made me leave the bed in the end…”

“See, I have good ideas sometimes.”

“Thank you, Charles. For everything.” She said seriously.

Charles put an arm around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her temple. She nestled a little closer to him and they enjoyed a brief moment of peace before returning to the guests. Lyanna stopped suddenly and tugged at Charles's sleeve before pointing to a corner of the room.

“Charles, do you see what I’m seeing?”

“Hum, well… your mom talking to Fred? Why? What’s wrong?”

“My mom is not talking! She is giggling Charles! Giggling! With Fred! They are so flirting.”

“Fred is single, your mom is too. If they can have some fun, good for them.”

“It’s my mom and technically your boss we are talking about!”

Charles paused.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s weird. Imagine they actually get together, the kind of family reunions we could have! Do you think that would mean your mom would come at the Grand Prix?”

“I don’t want to imagine!”

“It would sure be fun and interesting! You could have Fred as a stepfather!”

“Shut up!”

Charles laughed and wrapped his arms around her as Lyanna groaned in protest.

Soon it was time for everyone to say goodbye. Lyanna thanked them for the surprise and soon left with Charles.

“Well, I’d say that your family and my family got on really well. That’s amazing. No awkward family reunions in sight.”

“Yeah… I can’t believe you did that for me. I mean, I can believe it because you prove me everyday how much you love me but… for you to actually take the time to organise that… it blows my mind.”

“Shout out to my mom who actually did most of the job. I really just had to get you there in time and I failed. But really, it was nothing. I know how much stressed you’ve been under lately and how much your family means to you; it was normal for me to do that. It was not much.”

“I love you so much, Charles. I couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.”

She placed a kiss on his cheek as Charles kept his eyes on the road before sliding a hand onto her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

=======

author's note: I love this chapter so much despite how long it is lmao 😂 As usual, let me know your thoughts through the comments or ask box if your too shy. And don't forget to leave a like or reblog the story. It helps. And it lets me know that you like the story. taglist @zendayabelova @purplephantomwolf @ru-kru @dakotali @blueflorals @aundercover @ruleroftheuniverse @fangirlika @writerscurse @elijahmikaelsonbitch @leclerc13 @karmabyfernando @stargaryenx @pitlanebabe @boiohboii @reengard If you are tagged but did not receive any notifications, please check your settings because it means that Tumblr didn't let me tag you.

[scarlettriot]

• AUTUMN MORNINGS •

Pairing: Kirishima X f!Reader

Summary: You planned to treat your husband to a lovely breakfast in bed for his birthday, but he has different ideas for how he wants to spend the morning.

Warnings: Smut | Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI, Praise, One Ass Slap, Spit.

Contains: Established relationship, Characters Aged Up, Thick Reader, Reader gets picked up, Unprotected Sex (stay safe, folks), Sub Reader, Could Be Rough Sex Kinda... Nicknames Used: Baby, Babe, Cutie, Sweetheart.

W/C: 2.1K

A/N: I had like no time at all but I really wanted to write something for my 2D husband's bday because he deserves all the damn love. Okay, happy reading!

You rolled over just as soon as you heard the trill of your alarm going off. Hurrying to silence it before it had the chance to wake your husband. You’d already gone to bed by the time Eijiro had gotten home the night before; however, that didn’t stop you from waking up and wishing him a happy birthday as he crawled in beside you once his shower had been taken. You stayed awake so that you could.  

The duvet was pulled back, and you rolled right into that familiar dip that brought you against his side. “Thanks, sweetheart.” You didn’t need him to tell you what a long day it had been. The exhaustion that coated each word was more than enough of an indication. “Sweet dreams. Love you s’much.” 

His snores filled the room minutes later, and before you joined him in slumber, you adjusted the alarm on your phone with the intention of treating him to a big birthday breakfast in bed. Making all his favorites before he even woke up, luring him downstairs with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Yeah. It sounded like the perfect way to begin his special day.

So, you woke up to the alarm exactly when you were supposed to. Giving you plenty of time to put your plan into action. So much so, that you felt you had at least a little time to spare and savor the quiet of the morning. 

Eijiro was still passed out beside you. One arm tucked behind his head and the one that held you all night long was now resting across his stomach. The man looked like he was made to be in the morning light, especially the soft golden warmth that autumn brought with it. It made his already-tanned skin glow, bringing out the freckles that dusted his cheeks and shoulders, begging you to kiss each and every one of them. Carefully, you tucked glimmering strands of his fiery hair behind his ear, admiring the way the light would ignite them for seconds at a time. 

Your thumb brushed over his jaw gingerly, barely enough to feel the scratch of his stubble, and in his sleep, he smiled just for you. You kissed the corner of his mouth just as gently and then finally slid out of bed. 

The old t-shirt of his you wore as a nightshirt fell far enough down your legs that there was no need for shorts though, you did grab your robe and then moved silently through the house the two of you have shared for over a decade now. 

You knew which step to hop over so it wouldn’t creak under your weight, the way to pull open the pantry door so that way it doesn’t squeak. All the little precautions are taken to ensure Eijiro remained asleep for as long as he needs. You just weren’t counting on him waking up all on his own. 

The bed grew cooler without you beside him. Your body not within arms reach for him to cling onto. 

He huffed to the empty room and reluctantly kicked the covers back, on a mission to figure out where you’ve gotten to this damn early. 

He wandered his way down to the kitchen in nothing but his boxers and found you with a plethora of ingredients covering the counter and your fingers just about to lite a fire under one of the many pans on the stove. 

“Babe!” He surprised you since you thought for sure he’d still be out cold, but no, he was walking right up to you, stooping down so he could toss you right over his shoulder. “Eiji! I’m making you breakfast!” He didn’t seem to care that you were in the middle of something or the fact your ass was on full display. 

Sleep still had ahold of his vocal cords, “Not yet, you’re not.” He made sure to turn off the burner before heading right back for the stairs again, carrying you all the way back to your shared bedroom. He brought you down on the bed with a loving hand bracing your neck. “I just wanna cuddle my pretty little wife on my birthday morning. Can we do that? Please.” You nod up at him. “Good. Now get back under the covers.” 

A laugh escaped you as you crawl your way back to your spot while he’s busy still grumbling. “Can’t believe you snuck outta bed– Didn’t even say nuffin’ to me–” 

“I was just tryin’ to do somethin’ nice for you.” 

He burrowed his face into the crook of your neck and you could feel his stubble scratching your skin just as much as his pouty lower lip. “I know, baby, and that’s sweet. But this is all I want right now. Want you right here with me.” 

You pushed yourself back against him more then, letting him hold you as close as possible, but you most certainly heard the groan he tried to bite back and the stiffness of his cock that was pressed against your ass. 

“Are you sure that’s all you want?” 

His arms tightened around you, one of them dipping under your (his) shirt so he could shamelessly palm your bare breast. 

“Mmm-mmm,” He mumbles, shaking his head, and you grin because when Eijiro was tired was when he was as blunt as he could possibly be. He could even be worse than Katsuki sometimes! So, one of his hands teased your nipple with calloused fingers, and the other wandered lower. Groping the fat of your thigh and moving it back over his own leg so his fingers could dive between your wet folds. “Want you on my cock.” 

You snapped the band of his tight boxers. “Then take these off, and you can have me.” 

There was a grunt, and he lifted your leg enough for him to shimmy his boxers down his thighs. His cock slapped right against your cunt the moment he freed it, and he ate up the way you whined at the contact. “Awe, you want me too, sweetheart?” 

“Always want you.” And you knew damn well that the feeling was mutual. It always had been. 

He kissed your cheek and rutted his hips forward even though his fingers were already stuffed inside you. 

“Baby, just gimme it–!” He curled his fingers so your sentence ended in a moan. The chuckle he let out right beside your temple told you he was pleased with your response, pleased enough to pull his fingers out and give you exactly what you asked for all in one go. 

“Hnng–!” More prep would’ve probably been smart, but neither one of you cared about that right now. Just too desperate to feel the other. He did give you a minute though before he started a gentle rock of his hips. Holding your leg in place so he could move just how he pleased. 

“Always fuckin’ perfect f’me.” 

He set a pace with long, deep strokes for a while, savoring the way your walls squeeze him so tight when he presses into that spongy spot you love so much. He knows when you’re getting desperate for it, the moment when your high is rapidly approaching. “Wanna cum, cutie? Huh?” You just whine, “Oh no, sweetheart, you have to ask for it.” 

“I–It’s your bir–birthday. I’ll c–cum when you say I–I can.” 

“Fuck–” His cock throbbed within you when he heard you stammer through that sentence. His grip tightened on your leg. “My good girl, arentcha?” 

“Mmhm. Always.” 

He pulled himself out with a grunt and rolled on his back, admiring your slick coating every inch he has to offer. “Show me how good you are. C’mere and ride me ‘til you cum.” He helped as you scrambled over, straddling his hips and positioning him back at your dripping entrance. Before you can sink down though, his massive hand cupped your jaw and tilted your head so you’re looking right at him. “And don’t you fuckin’ stop when you do.”

You took his orders so well. When he was completely sheathed inside again, he pulled one arm back behind his head like it’d been when you woke up this morning and the other still held onto your hip. Like, a reminder for you to keep yourself bouncing on his cock even when euphoria overtook you. 

Your walls clenched around him like a vice when you opened your eyes and realized just how ethereal he looked under you like this. In all your years together, seeing him this way still made your breath catch. He might be on his back with your hands clawing into his scared chest, but it’s obvious who’s really in control. Just how powerful he looks bathed in that perfect autumnal glow, transforming his eyes into pools of amber that watch your every move with hunger and adoration. 

The only movement from him is a swift buck of his hips from time to time, when he wanted to watch your eyes roll back in your skull. Or hear that sultry cry of his name falling off your pretty pink tongue that was damn near lulling out of your mouth. 

The taut cord in your belly begins to fray when he goes on and on about how stunning you look. Perfect tits bouncing while you ride his cock, and then he begins teasing. “Gonna cum already, cutie– So soon– Heh, alright then– Make yourself feel good– Just don’t stop fucking yourself.” 

It’s so hard to keep yourself in motion when you do finally let go, but he graciously helps you. His hand on your hip making sure you keep rocking in his lap, prolonging your release until he physically can’t take it anymore.

Faster than he’d moved all morning, you’re lifted off his cock and pressed face down into the mattress, his weight settling right behind you. Strong hands pulled your hips up high in the air, and a fat glob of spit fell from his mouth and onto his cock (like he actually needs the extra lubrication) as he slides back into your heat. Hard. 

Your cunt was still a fluttering mess surrounding him, and your pleas and cries are muffled by the pillows below your face. Gods, he’ll never get sick of watching the way your plush skin puffs in the spaces between his fingers. It takes all his willpower not to bust right then when he spreads you wide to watch you take him so damn well. Like you were created just for him. His perfect present. “That’s my girl–!” One of his hands slaps your ass and smirks at the jiggle before grabbing hold of it again. 

He’s pulling you onto him as much as he’s thrusting in, letting the messy slaps echo off the walls and mingle with his grunts and your moans. 

His hand comes up the back of your head, fingers gripping tight at your roots, and he brings your head up as he leans into your ear. “Gonna cum, baby. Oh fuck–! ‘M gonna fill you so full–!” His fingers flex the quicker he goes until he pushes you back down when that first rope of cum hits deep in your cunt. 

He doesn’t stop moving until he’s positive your walls are thoroughly covered with his seed, continuously rocking more and more until there’s nothing left to give you. 

Only then does he let the two of you fall back on your sides. His cock is still completely buried in you, but he’s starting to go soft while his hand massages your scalp. “You okay, sweetheart?” 

“‘M great, baby.” You cuddle right back up against him, both of you moaning as his cock shifts, but it quickly turns into sleepy laughter. The kind that is your absolute favorite to hear. So genuine that it fills your heart completely over and over again. 

When you look over your shoulder, he’s already right there waiting to press a dozen kisses to your lips, dropping ‘I love yous’ between each one. 

“Happy birthday, Eiji.” The three little words are said against his lips, another kiss shared, and then a thank you leaves his. 

The whole entire day still lay ahead, plans and parties with friends, so, for now, a little extra rest with you sounds perfect. You lay completely content in his arms and Eijiro falls asleep with a smile upon his face thinking he couldn’t have asked for a better birthday morning. There’s nothing or no one better than you.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

BL/QL Ask game : The Ugly, the Bad and the Worst

Alright, I was tagged in this game by @clara-maybe-ontheroad, so it's time to make some enemies.

Worst soundtrack / weirdest song choice in a BL

I don’t really pay the most attention to this, I can’t recall anything that sticks out to me as particularly egregious even if it may be a tad odd. Weirdest song choice though is Jojo and Ninew letting First sing in Only Friends. I love the boy but we all have our flaws and his is being horrifically out of tune.

Most cringe-inducing line (cute)

“Then I am gay too,” Bee from Between Us. A show that I did actually enjoy despite many people grumbling. I hold that it’s cause I didn’t wait three years for it, and didn’t know Until We Meet Again existed when I started watching it. But regardless, Bee and Prince had like 5 minutes of screen time, max and they won my motherfucking heart.

Most cringe-inducing line (actually bad)

Not a specific line, but literally any time that Nuea questions whether or not Hia Lian loves him in Cutie Pie 2 You. Bestie, you already agonized over that for far, far too long in Cutie Pie, by the time you ran out of the marriage proposal at your father in law’s birthday, I was already way past over the bullshit. And now you want to get back on the bullshit when you are planning your wedding? Come on…

Most stupid decision made by a character

I agree with @bengiyo, Teh giving up his spot in school for Oh. Honestly, you know what, looking even further back the stupidest decision was Oh and Teh’s friends coming up to Teh AT FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING THE DAY HE WAS GOING TO GO COMMIT TO COLLEGE TO TELL HIM OH WAS GIVING UP. Y’all couldn’t have fucking waited like…one day? You know Teh is stupid motherfucker prone to grand gestures.

Worst plot line

“I’m going to kill your mother from third hand cigarette smoke and spend the last hour and a half of a genuinely otherwise beautifully crafted show making the world’s longest anti-smoking campaign” by New Siwaj in My Only 12%. What a way to ruin a show at the very last minute.

The most problematic show you've watched

Fish Upon the Sky, what in the racism, support of stalking, invasion of privacy, manipulation was that show?

A show people love but you find bad

Enchante. I just hate Theo so goddamn much.

A show people find bad but you will defend

Also gonna agree with @bengiyo here and say Wedding Plan, I have seen so little conversation around that show since it aired and it was super adorable and very very outside of MAME’s typical taboos. Just fluff, lesbianism, and lavender marriages abound. But if you think La Pluie is bad, then I will fight you to an early grave.

A show that is just objectively bad but you enjoyed it

I wouldn’t say it is my favorite, but I didn’t mind Vice Versa, but maybe that’s cause I was paying attention to trying to predict the next episode’s colors and not to the plot?

A bad show that you kept watching because you were intrigued/fascinated

Mine is the same as @waitmyturtles. It’s currently still airing, so it’s entirely possible I drop it, but, Dangerous Romance, I am so mad at how quickly it is brushing past interesting topics, but I am still watching it because I am curious where they intend to go with it. I don’t think they can salvage it, but I need to know what it is they want to say that made them think handling this show the way they are is better than exploring literally any of the class questions presented in the first couple episodes.

A bad show that you kept watching because you were horny

I don’t really watch shows because I am horny,  I watch shows because- Why R U? FighterTutor, only reason I watched that show, I skipped through most of the rest of it.

A bad show that you kept watching because of that one character

Why R U? Because Fighter was such a compelling character and I thought Zee did a phenomenal job in the way he handled Fighter’s internalized homophobia. I wish they were giving Zee more complicated roles than Hia Lian because he’s a strong actor and I think his talent is wasted on Cutie Pie.

A bad show that you would still recommend

I don’t really recommend shows that I think are bad to people, so it is a case by case basis. I did not end up liking A Boss and a Babe, but I did recommend @emotionallychargedtowel watch at least some of it so she could get a better idea of Book’s acting ability.

The character that ruined a show the most

Nadia, My Ride. She’s such a self-entitled, incredibly judgemental bitch and I hate her, runner up is Toy for destroying Boss’ bookshelf.

Most awful character that you hated

Tawan, KinnPorsche. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. I was glad when he died, and I must commend Na for his performance because he did such a good job playing an asshole that I still hate his face when I see it.

Most awful character that you loved

Korn from KinnPorsche, I am obsessed with how casually evil he is, and how he keeps his loyalty through faked compassion rather than abusive fear the way Gun does. He’s consistently winning, even when his lies are revealed. I think he does a superb job of flying under the radar as a visibly awful character. But he’s a terrible person.

A character that wasn't awful but that you just don't like

Saifah, Why R U? It’s not his fault, but I just hate Jimmy’s face.

A hero that should have been a villain

Palm, Never Let Me Go, I had too many theories about the ways in which Palm could have betrayed Nuengdiao. Hell, I’d have settled for Chanon being a villain, but no, only loyalty :(

A morally bad character you're into

*ahem* *gestures to my username*

Wen Kexing, Word of Honor who has done nothing wrong in his entire life.

A morally bad character you're not into and you wish people would stop being into

Theo, Enchante, I hate that motherfucker with a burning passion. I know that I said I think Book should be able to play more assholes cause he’s doing a great job with Mew’s revenge era, but Theo was a goddamn fucking major asshole who was not really presented as such.

The show that disappointed you the most

Again, it’s not done yet, so there is still time to maybe climb out of this hole, but I am very disappointed by Dangerous Romance at the moment.

The Worst Show of Them All Because of Your Own Reasons

Enchante because how the fuck do you think it is okay to write a romance where one of the romantic interests both creates the most fucked up, convoluted lie to mess with your feelings, AND is so goddamn helpless that you GET FIRED FROM YOUR JOB FOR HELPING HIM, and not have either of those things be a wake up call or deal breaker?!

Tagging @ranchthoughts, @respectthepetty, @solitaryandwandering