#movie wasn’t great but her design still SLAPS

[cosmopretty]

Jealousy Jealousy

Nika Mühl x Fem smut

Synopsis: You and Nika have been hooking up in private without letting any of your friends know. You’ve been away for the past two weeks modeling in Paris and just got back.

——————————————————————

Walking down the street your beautiful hair flowing down your back, you spot your friends waiting for you. You smile and run up to them KK running towards you as you meet her in the middle hugging her, her arms warp around you “Hey miss girl we missed you” she says before letting go of the hug and dragging you to the group.

You greet the rest of the girls and Nika hugs you tightly before letting go and holding your shoulders her eyes softening at the sight of you “I missed you” she whispers low enough for only you to hear. You smile slightly “I missed you too” you admit before looking away your attention going elsewhere.

Paige looks you up and down and wraps her arm around your shoulders “You look good girl. How did Paris treat you?” she asks you subtly staring you down. Not that you would notice, you didn’t really notice when people were into you, but Nika did.

“Paris was great the people were so sweet they all had little French accents I loved it plus the designer loved me he wants me back to model for him some more probably in New York” You tell them all looking up at Paige, not noticing the scowl on Nika’s face at the sight of Paige all over you. The blonde smiles down at you before turning her head smirking at Nika, purposefully trying to get the girl jealous.

Walking back to the girls apartment you tell them all about Paris and what you did there, answering all there questions. You walk inside, Paige holding the door open for you “Thanks P” you smile at the girl Nika rolling her eyes behind the both of you.

To say that Nika was mad was an understatement, she didn’t see you for two weeks and you barely have spoken to her, Paige taking up all of your attention. She hated the way Paige would touch you, look at you, she didn’t even want Paige to breathe near you. Nika wasn’t really a jealous person but with you away she realized how much she really liked you, more than just sexually.

Getting up from the couch, while the rest of team argues over what movie they want to watch you go into the kitchen to grab some water.

Paige slaps Nika’s shoulder “If you don’t go after her I am” the blonde says licking her lips doing her rizz hands. Paige knew Nika liked you and had a whole plan to make her jealous so she would finally admit her feelings to you. The Croatian girl shoves her “Stop flirting with her you know she’s mine Paige” Nika’s says sternly before getting up and leaving the living room to look for you.

She finds you in the kitchen pouting yourself a glass of water, you look up at her and smile “Hey Nika” you whisper as she walks up to you. She didn’t look happy at all, she was mad not at you but at herself and her feelings. She walks towards you causing you to walk back until your back hits the counter, you grab the counter with your hands “Nika what are you doing?” you ask her confused looking back and forth from her face to the girls in the living room.

Her big hand comes to cup your cheek bringing your face up to look at her “I missed you bebo” she admits biting the inside of her cheek. You both can still hear KK and Ice arguing over what movie to watch in the background, Nika turns her head to look at them before grabbing your hand and dragging you to her room without a word.

She shoves you back by your hips and locks the door behind her, you look around her room then back at her “What do you want Nika?” you ask her sitting on her bed while she stands at the door. She shrugs and walks up to you before grabbing you by the face with both her hands and kissing you hard. Nika pushes you back on her bed and crawls on top of you not breaking the kiss, you moan into the kiss as she pulls away from your lips, she bites your bottom lip holding it between her teeth before letting go.

You look up at her a feeling of relief washing over you “Fuck Nika I need you so bad I missed you so much” you whine rubbing your legs together trying to release the tension building up in your stomach.

“Yeah baby how much did you miss me want you to prove it to me” she demands grabbing you by the hips and flipping you both over so your straddling her waist.

You immediately go down to kissing her neck wanting to show the girl how much you missed her while you were away. Leaving soft wet kissing down her neck your hands grab the bottom of her shirt and lift it off her head throwing it across her room. You look at her abs biting your lips as your hands run over them, feeling every bump. Nika coughs “You like them baby?” she asks a suspicious smile on her face.

Of course you like her abs I mean she was the most beautiful girl in your eyes “Yeah Nika so pretty” you respond to her not looking up from her stomach. Her hand moves it easy up your body from your waist lying on your cheek softly, before making your head tilt up to look at her.

Nika looks at you through her lashes and a thought pops in her head “Why don’t you ride them baby” she asks looking at your thighs that lay across her comfortably. Neither of you have done something like that before and before you can respond Nika puts her hands on both your thighs “Come on bebo make yourself feel good” she says softly rubbing your thighs.

You nod and strip your shirt off and throw it before lifting your legs and getting off of Nika, you take your pants off with your panties and stand infront of her naked. She rubs her jaw looking at you not believing your real “Fuck your so beautiful” she says before reaching over and pulling you back on top of her. Nika lays on her back her head propped up on the pillows as you straddle her waist once again. Both of her hands grab your hips and pull you down on her abs. You moan softly as your clit rubs across them sending shocks through your body.

You start grinding across her abs your head falling back, as your back arches. Nika smirks and starts flexing, adding more pressure to your clit. You moan turning your head down to look at her as one of her hands comes to start rubbing your clit. Your stomach tightens feeling your body start to get hot, you lungs tighten as your start breathing faster “Nika I’m close” you tell her moving your hips fast against her abs and hand.

The girl under you nods and starts moving your hips faster with one hand while the other continues to rub circles on your clit “Come for me bebo” she says looking up at you. You moan and release all over her stomach, your hips snap back and forth a few times in after shocks while Nika slows down rubbing on your clit.

Nika smiles at you before lifting you off of her stomach and laying you down next to her on her bed. Your body faces hers and she pulls you in for a kiss, you kiss back your hand coming to the back of her head before you pull away for air.

“You’re so beautiful and I know I tell you that all the time” she tells you once more her accent prominent. You blush looking down at the pillows before back up at her “Thank you baby” you say to her licking your lips.

Both of you lay on her bed for a moment in quiet no words needed to be said between you both. Nika breaks the silence “I really like you and I want more than just sex” she admits looking away from you and to the door of her bedroom.

Smiling you grab her face to make her look at you “I like you too Nika” you say before climbing on top of her and kissing her once more.

You jump down from her and grab her shirt sliding it over your body “I’m going to take you out tomorrow after practice” you state going into the bathroom grabbing a towel wetting it and walking back over to the girl. You wipe down her stomach before pushing down and kissing her, she kisses back her tongue sliding in your mouth as you both fight for dominance. You pull away smiling and grab a shirt for her to wear from her closet.

She grabs the shirt from your hands and raises her brows at you “Yeah okay what time baby?” Nika asks you putting the shirt on while watching you put your clothes back on.

Thinking for a moment you shrug “Around seven ish be hungry” you say grabbing her hand helping her off of the bed. She grabs your hand nodding and she unlocks the door and you both walk back into the living room to see all the girls sitting in silence.

You furrow your brows “What’s wrong? Who died?” you ask jokingly. KK shakes her head “My innocence died today” she says digging her head into Paige’s shoulder. Nika busts out laughing “Oh shit yall heard us?” she asks while you groan feeling embarrassed.

“Yes we heard guess we don’t need to find a movie to watch you both already have us entertainment” Paige says rubbing KK’s back. You shake your head no and walk out of the living room “IM DONE” you yell walking back into Nika’s room while everyone laughs at you both.

[magnorious]

Frozen 2 is still a sequel that exists

Requested by @valentinerose529

If Disney released the BTS of all their terrible movies and bravely showed how such nonsensical plots came to be, with the best of intentions by the creators, people might have a softer take on disappointments like this. Frozen 2 isn’t a movie I was waiting for (certainly not for six years). I wasn’t a little kid obsessed with Elsa and I got really tired of all the music really quickly.

The only thing about this movie I was excited for was the new music, and based on the BTS, that’s the only thing they were banking on. So, with that in mind, this movie is just so confused with what it wants to be, I can’t even be mad at it for existing. It’s not the cultural juggernaut the original was, it came and went without much pain and hopefully there won’t be a third.

I probably have the same burning question so many other people who don’t like this movie have: You had five years to write this movie, and this is what you did with it?

There's certainly things I have problems with: Kristoff's stupid "Lost in the Woods," rinsing and repeating the "Elsa freaks out and vanishes and Anna must go save her (or nearly die trying)," plot, the botched twist reveal of the rewritten history, the underbaked development with the mom character to the point where Elsa was bawling at the sight of her during "Show Yourself" and I just did not care because the movie didn't do enough to make me care, and the self-depricating references to the hype of the original, making fun of fans' earnest enjoyment of an insanely popular movie, was in poor taste.

—

Unlike Pixar’s bad movies, where the plots beats and story elements are so interconnected that certain pieces can’t really be good in isolation, this movie actually does have really strong individual moments—the songs (“Into the Unknown” is still my favorite), Anna’s depressive spiral in the cave, the concept of the rewritten history, the new character designs, the concept of elemental winter spirits and Elsa being one of them—these are all great in isolation.

Put them together and they’re a hot mess. They wrote, performed, animated, and edited all the songs before settling on a story, and thus had to write their story around these really unrelated songs (quite similar to the first one, actually), and this is the result. It’s not a bad movie in that it’s unwatchable. It’s disappointing, confusing, and a little underwhelming. It’s not awful, because it’s not pretending that it’s amazing. It knows what it is, unlike the first one.

Thus, I don’t have strong opinions about it. I will still rewatch “Into the Unknown” on YouTube and everything with AURORA in it is great. The movie started out very strong, they just should have picked one of those plot threads to go with and make it a streamlined plot instead of mashing all these conflicting beats together.

The elemental spirits, the backstory with their mom that was sorely missing in the original, this uncreatively-named Enchanted Forest, the rewritten history—all of these deserved their own movies. Mashing them together like this leaves all of them underbaked and the story very scatterbrained. Heck, I’m shocked Disney hasn’t created a Frozen TV show to explore all those ideas and slapped it on Disney +. A little six-episode limited series, perhaps even with cheap 2D animation to plop your kids and die-hard Disney Adults down in front of for three hours.

The movie is better than the ride at Epcot, though, I’ll give it that.

[kiri-cuts]

The bell tolls for Barbie in “Barbie”

Andrea Nevins’ fascinating 2018 documentary “Tiny Shoulders: Rethinking Barbie” has sat heavily on me for a while now. The movie explores the tenuous future of the world’s most iconic doll alongside her impressive yet troubled legacy. Far from being just a children’s toy, Barbie is an entire socio-political warzone wrapped in plastic –- and arguably, at different times throughout history, she’s been the bomb as much as she’s been the one caught downwind from its shock. 

For decades, it was seemingly enough that Barbie allowed little girls the freedom to imagine a world beyond motherhood. That somewhere within her impossible hourglass dimensions –- 36-18-33. Designed by a man, of course –- was the potential for children to occupy spaces of great ambition, fantasy, and glamour within their imaginations. 

The idea that if you can see it, you can be it was tightly bound into Barbie’s branding. This was a doll who told girls that they could be anything they wanted to be. Hell, Barbie was an astronaut 18 years before Sally Ride would become the first American woman to take to the stars. And since 1992, she’s put herself forward as a Presidential candidate during almost every U.S. election year. 

Aspirational though she may be, Barbie also comes with a great deal of baggage. As “Tiny Shoulders: Rethinking Barbie” states, the doll is also irrevocably tied to endless debates regarding white supremacy, body image, gender, and the many great complicated mythologies of beauty, womanhood, and femininity which tie into these issues. When an attempt was made to make Barbie more relevant to modern girls, it exposed perhaps the doll’s greatest failure: She could be everything –-except relatable.

Barbie could indeed be a great many incredible things. But she was never anything beyond the gender binary or heteronormative. Barbie was never fat, sick, or disabled. She wasn’t ever a shade darker than sunkissed and her hair, whether natural or from a bottle, was blondest of blonde: healthy hair, thick hair, attractive hair, girly hair. The toy reinforced the worst cultural expectations of women –- that anytime we erred beyond the representation of this doll in any way, we had automatically done a disservice to our cultural identity. 

Barbie represents an impossible expectation –- one that all women are still expected to live up to, and that not a single one can. Femininity and womanhood can be a great pleasure to inhabit and to enjoy, but it can also be a burden.

In as much as pink can be powerful, it can overwhelm and imprison. To boast it as an adult is to proudly wave the flag of our people -- sissies, bimbos, pin-up girls, and queers -- but not without danger. It is the colour that society would rather hate crime than respect. It is deemed plastic and without value –- for those of us who feel the delirious nuances of the colour deep in our marrow, we know it as a colour of defiance, both a confectionary and a war cry. Delicate and vulgar, it wields the power and vulnerability to destroy and be destroyed.

It’s an idea that Greta Gerwig masterfully slaps onto the screen in “Barbie,” her subversive 2023 pink-puking masterpiece which drills a hole deep into the legacy of Mattel’s plastic cash cow -- hitting dirt, striking oil, and finding gold. Margot Robbie’s interpretation of the iconic doll is one in which she is forced to stare deep into her own complicated void. In “Barbie,” America’s capitalist dreamgirl is having an existential crisis, slamming a dreamhouse party to a stern halt when she casually enquires about whether any of her fellow Barbie dolls ever think about death –- an idea which is hardly a lucrative one in the toy industry.

It’s a slammer of a punchline, and the first instance in which Gerwig smartly contemplates the flaws at the heart of Mattel’s beloved best-seller. What kid hasn’t ever contemplated death? Some of us probably even made deep inquiries about it, hitting the oversized red alarm button equipped inside every parent, teacher, and doctor struggling to explain the tragic catastrophe of life and the human body to an 8-year-old.

As we get older, those feelings become more real: If life is a powder pink dreamhouse (or a super macho mojo dojo casa house, for every Ken reading), then death is its foundations and walls. It’s the hinges on the doors. The frames on the windows. Our mortality, and that of the people we love, is ever-present and unavoidable. And yet, at least in the West, it seems ridiculous to even imagine a Barbie capable of engaging with kids on the topic. 

Later in the film, there’s even a commercial for a Depression Barbie  –- she wears sweatpants day and night! She spends seven hours scrolling through her estranged best friend’s engagement photos on Instagram! Yes, she’s watching BBC's “Pride and Prejudice” again for the seventh time until she falls asleep and yes, that Starburst share-bag is fucking empty now, please and thank you.

In a film full of funnies, the advert garnered one of the biggest laughs at the screening I was at. It’s a simple joke –- maybe the most basic one there is on the topic. And yet every woman in that cinema reacted as if they’d never had this particular experience acknowledged by such a massive, mainstream film before. And by all accounts, maybe they haven’t. 

But the joke concerning Barbie’s sudden anxiety regarding this mortal coil is obviously two-fold. While Barbie’s brain is slumping into sadness-in-sweatpants mode, her sudden focus on death is also a reflection of the doll’s current troubled state. In a world in which girls are able to better project their blossoming identities against video game characters and simulations, YouTube stars, and beauty apps that allow them to become and evolve their own avatars however they like, what do they need a chunk of plastic for? Particularly one who doesn’t look like them or who seemingly doesn’t share any of their values or concerns?  In “Barbie,” Robbie’s sentient meta-doll is forced to face her burgeoning irrelevance head-on when she meets who she believes to be her human counterpart –- sullen teen Sasha (Ariana Greenblatt), who reads the doll to filth for crimes against feminism. “You’re a fascist,” she tells Barbie, who fails to connect the dots on her long-criticised Aryan head. 

For a long time, Barbie dolls have been symbolic of larger problems and discussions, and occasionally even pointed to as a problem itself. As Robbie told ABC, “It seems like over the last 64 years, it hasn't taken much for Barbie to ignite conversation or sometimes, you know, revolutions or protests.” 

When Sasha’s Mum, Gloria (America Ferrera), enters the picture, we realise that she is actually this Barbie’s human counterpart and a woman experiencing her own crisis.

In the film’s third-act monologue, she delivers a speech that not only embodies how many modern women feel at odds with each other and with themselves but also of the challenges facing Barbie –- as a doll, an icon, and a symbol of womanhood. One which cannot be everything to everyone. Barbie being representative of only the slimmest slice of the gigantic, multifaceted, and often downright depressing pie that the experience of being a woman can be reduced to. “It is literally impossible to be a woman,” Gloria begins. “... We have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.”

Laying out the exhausting and contradictory expectations often placed on women, Gloria states, “I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then I don't even know."

In “Tiny Shoulders: Rethinking Barbie,” Mattel’s head of Barbie design, Kim Culmone comes up against these same contradictions in trying to solve the dilemma of making the doll relevant again. It’s harrowing to watch Culmone, a woman with the purest of intentions and the greatest of passions for her job, consistently tie herself in knots in trying to solve an impossible puzzle. It’s one thing to redesign Barbie to better reflect a variety of shapes, sizes, shades, genders, and abilities. It’s another to be faced with the reality of that. 

Barbie’s newly designed image may better reflect a wider cross-section of women, but it faced prejudice and mockery from focus groups. Furthermore, a new variety of dimensions also created complications –- Barbie’s one-size-fits-all system could no longer apply to a toy line celebrating diverse body types. That meant increasing the price point of Barbie dolls and accessories, making them even more inaccessible to low-income families.  Like Gerwig's Barbie, when this new configuration of the dolls hit the real world, they were faced with the problems of the real world, too: All of its hatred, oppression, and narrow-mindedness crashing down upon their beautiful fat, disabled, non-binary, Black plastic bodies with all the weight of a Daily Mail-sponsored demolition compactor.

It's a fascinating if melancholy documentary. And it also shares a commentary in common with Gerwig’s comedic take on the doll –- and in turn, on the impossible demands of womanhood within a system designed against us. Barbie is confined by many boxes –- literal, symbolic, metaphorical. And all of them relate to the ways in which we, as women, are likewise boxed in and shut out of spaces that should be otherwise accessible to us. 

Within this Hellraiser puzzle box of life, it’s easy to ascribe the lament configurations society holds for us as permanent parts of our identity: That to be feminine is to be weak and submissive and to be a woman is to diminish our ambitions, and our instincts in favour of something palatable and easy. Maneuverable. Historically, women and all feminine people have been forced to exist within a projection of other people’s fantasies. Something inhuman and malleable, experiencing every last distasteful feast that life and the world have to offer without reacting to their bitterness. As Gerwig's "Barbie" very simply suggests, the patriarchy just wants us to be dolls who stay in our lane.

This is why the way we are represented is important –- by documentaries, by movies, or by toys. To be only sold aspirational messaging without acknowledging the myriad of obstacles on the long road to success is a monumental failure and a disservice to the young women being set up for the slamming disappointments that life has to offer. Our experiences have value. And while we may all share some common ground on that, our diverse backgrounds and identities will always separate us within spaces within which we should be united. 

It's not enough anymore for the world's most iconic doll to encourage big dreams from little girls. We know there are fewer obstacles for women in most careers these days, -- Barbie's plump, pick-me CV certainly suggests as much, anyways -- but that doesn't mean we're any more welcome within the mojo dojo casa houses of those spaces.

What is lacking is the acknowledgment of our basic needs and humanity: The space to be as unattractive, weird, sick, loud, stupid, and desperate as men are given. We want to be allowed to struggle and to fail -- even if that means staring straight into the valley of death and attempting a stunt down and through it.

United or not, what we do have in common is the small stuff: We’ve all dreamt of the fantastic and the unachievable. We carry impossible standards, and we unconsciously or otherwise likewise subscribe to them, too. But in our hearts, we’re all complex and messy, floating from one crisis to another. And I mean, who hasn’t stopped a party cold by talking inappropriately and unprovoked about death?

That version of the doll may not sell, but it could be the one version of womanhood that we can all agree on. We're pink, and we wield the power and vulnerability to destroy and be destroyed.

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Dragon Spell (2016)

I see low-budget animated films make the same mistakes made over and over again. I don’t understand why. I’m not saying the people behind The Dragon Spell aren’t talented but they had to know they didn’t have Toy Story 4 money, so why do they and their kin try to reach for the stars when they could so easily go for the cookie jar on the counter instead? Clumsily written, ugly and stiff, I wonder who could sit through this movie and honestly say they had a great time.

Years ago, a ferocious dragon terrorized the world until a tanner named Ciryll (Mike Pollock) defeated it. Now, the dragon’s spirit lingers in the body of the sorceress Siringa (Melissa Schoenberg), waiting for the day when it can re-claim its true form and resume its reign of terror. Meanwhile, Cyrill's son, Nicky (voiced by Kate Bristol) is determined to live up to his father's glory. When he and a magical talking bat named Eddie "The Magnificent" (Allen Enlow) accidentally travel through a portal to another realm, they embark on an adventure to return home.

Trying to scratch together a synopsis for this film must have scraped at least a couple of months off of my lifetime. I feel like I’d need to go on and on to properly explain what this movie is about to make you understand why the writing is so bad. The film begins with a promising flashback showing us the tanner defeating the dragon. It’s all done via stylized, 2-D animation and looks great. Cut to the main story. You assume the dragon was killed thousands of years ago, that what we just saw was one of the cornerstones of the vast library of myths and legends this world has to offer, but no. What we just saw happened less than a decade ago. The tanner? He’s still alive. The dragon’s skin? It’s just up in the rafters of his home. When the camera shows it for the first time, Nicky wows. What? Why? Has he never seen it before? It’s been in his house since he was born, hasn’t it? The wizard, Adler (William Tost), knows the dragon’s spirit is after the skin but he hasn’t gotten the monster slayer to destroy it for…. reasons. Keep in mind, this is the first few minutes. This gives you a hint of the sort of penmanship we’re dealing with.

While the textures, hair, etc. are detailed and professional, they’re slapped on top of ugly character models. You get strong “Local grocery store chain” vibes from everyone. Objects don’t have weight, the bat’s anatomy is all wrong, and a flying wooden ship sails through the air like its pilot is a pro when they’re actually at its wheel for the first time. The dragon, meanwhile, moves as gracefully as a duck on land. It doesn’t make any sense as a deliberate choice. Even as something incidental, it’ll have you scratching your head. The people at work HAD to know this wasn’t going to work. I don’t mean story-wise, I meant visually, someone had to - at some point - say “Hey, are we sure the art director isn’t perpetually drunk? these designs don’t work together at all.” The worst offender is Rocky (Alyson Leigh Rosenfeld) and her sidekick, a female squirrel so grotesque you swear there’s something wrong with its genes. There’s a twist about Rocky that’s so badly fumbled I had it figured out, then second-guessed myself just before the actual reveal. It’s one of those movies that’s so predictable it circles around again to surprise you, except when we’re talking about the witch, whose ultimate role in this story is so obvious it would’ve earned the writer a big, fat, red ‘F’ from their teacher.

Conceived as a comedic adventure for kids, the only time The Dragon Spell is funny is when you listen to the lyrics of its only song. I don’t know what’s going on there. The words make no sense in any context. Key verses include:

Nothing can go wrong if you know the animation

Life is a movie and you’re the animation

Sometimes life can be like a lead hole

Let your life play out like a movie

Live the life shine it every day

Make your movie with the computer of the day

...

Yeah. You read that correctly.

While these make for some laughs - the equivalent of a delicious cheeseburger in the middle of a barren wasteland - it’s not enough to recommend the film, even as something “So bad it’s good”. Though the screenplay isn't good enough to make me think slam-dunk character designs and movements would've made a difference, that's a big issue with this film - and others like it. The film is too ambitious for its budget and can't compensate with "easier" elements of the filmmaking process. By this, I mean the writing, songwriting, voicework, etc. the kind of things a single, hardworking and dedicated person could polish off on their own. If you can't get the animation down, you have to make up for it in another department.

The Dragon Spell only lasts 85 minutes but it feels like so much more. I can't even say that it's enlightening or educational as a failure. It's just dull and disappointing. “Magical lands have their downsides” indeed. (English Dub, May 27, 2022)

[steampoweredwerehog]

What's your ideal dragon?

Oo I love me a dragon thats like…the perfect blend of Horse & Lizard proportions. I love huge wings on a dragon, especially if they have non-reptile features too. Ex.) Saphira from Eragon is an old fave of mine

[skiplo-wave]

Rank all the monster high movies

Say less.

New Ghoul at School 7/10 pretty much pilot episode for the web series and commercial for the dolls itself ( all the movies are just one long commercial btw) It's as highschool introduction you gonna get. Tho it's wild everyone got mad at Frankie trying have Deuce as her bf when nobody told her he's Cleo's boo( pun not intended)

Fright on 7/10. I NEVER seen this cover before but the "movie" is in 2d form. Also kinda fruity they put Clawdeen and Draculaura on the cover lol. I want say the artists were trying covers out before going full 3d for the next round of movies. Anyway the ghouls tackle racism/prejudice.

Why do Ghouls fall in love 7/10. Official first 3d monster high movie. Cute movie despite the typical highschool cliches. CA Cupid design still a fav ( wild she got transferred to Ever after high but oh well) I realized there's couple of Draculaura centric movies hmm might explained why she became face for reboot. Also Val was suppose be closet gay but you know how Mattel be.

Escape from Skull shores 6/10 I don't remember much from the movie expect it's Frankie centric and it's King Kong type movie. The girls swimsuits were very cute tho. Also realized they literally cut and dye their hair and when back at school they in their default design lol. Anything for the aesthetic. The 2022 reboot better ot disappoint fashion wise.

Ghouls Rule 5/10. Another predjuice plot movie. I do like they brought in humans. I mean with have best boi Jackson for a reason lol. Kinda shame we never saw the other humans in web series. And Hot take the ghoul rules designs are my least favorite out doll line. I like Frankie's and Cleo's outfits but that's about it

Frdiay Night Frights 8.5/10. By far my favorite of the movies. Plot is sexism bad, girl power plot but still cute. And they introduce Best girl Robecca and Operetta. Also roller derby outfits were my favorite of doll line theming

City of Frights 6/10. Don't remember much, it's Clawdeen centric movie. Move best girls introduced Good doll outfits. Like I said the movies just long commercial for the doll line theme

13 wishes 8/10. Howleen centric loved the plot. Great outfits. Even more best girls in the movie lo. Lowkey wish Howleen kept her curly afrohawk hair. I'm not against the idea of her changing her style because she's figuring herself out.

Also we got these baddie designs

Frights camera action 5/10 I just don't remember much of this movie expect we got Honey, Viper, and Elisabat. I think it's Draculaura centric movie

Freaky Fushion 8.5/10 another good movie. Got good lore with Robecca and Frankie’s family ( was it canon they were cousins-ish?) Loved they introduce that monsters do breed with other monsters. Draculaura gonna have some cute werevamp babies lol. I realized that any Frankie centric movie she gets a kinda sorta love interest that’s never brought up again. But Frankie x Jackson/Holt always my Otp so there’s my bias 

Boo York 9/10 Song slaps, best girls bangers. Outfits killer Nuff said

6/10 hate they recon half of everything. They redesign the main girls but others like Toerli and Venus keep their regular designs from OG wave. Clawdeen’s fam got redacted. Only good thing is the girls may look 12 but outfits match that age. Animation was nice. We got milf werewolf mom and Dilf Dracula. The movie implies Dracula just adopts Frankie lol but maybe Frankenstein IP wasn’t for grabs yet

Movies I didn’t see: Great scarier reef and Haunted. Believe those were last movies before reboot. Other movie from reboot series was Electrified 

[rae-gar-targaryen]

loved you once [angel reyes x fem!reader]

A/N: So, this is NOT the Angel fic I previewed the other day. That one (and the EZ fic) is STILL COMING, I PROMISE! This just jumped into my head and wouldn’t leave. And I wrote it with a speed I am heretofore unfamiliar with (heretofore? Did I use that right?) I invented a tattoo and an ex-girlfriend for Angel, and I fudged the timeline a bit. So, apologies in advance for that. 

As always, if you want a tag in anything I write for Angel, EZ, the Mayans fandom (or anything else), please feel free to send me a message or an ask, or add yourself to the taglist (link in profile). 

Pairing: Angel Reyes x fem!tattoo artist!reader (as always, the appearance is ambiguous, but the reader is described as having female pronouns/parts. Also, the reader here speaks a bit of Spanish. I’m half Mexican, so I do imagine a latinx reader, but I hope I’ve written this so you can imagine yourself with no restriction.)

Word Count: 15.3K (HAHAHA WHAT THE FUCK all for a TWO AND A HALF MINUTE SONG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????) of ANGST! (SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO ANGSTY) lyrical nonsense and the remnants of sticky, cotton-candy sadness … fluff that makes you feel empty. 

Warnings: ANGST, non-explicit references to infidelity, sexual references and sexual content, oral (male receiving), fingering and other nastiness -- so 18+ ONLY, please! Canon-typical douchebaggery, references to a past relationship, song references and poetry. (It is me, so yeah, poetry.)

Summary: You and Angel may as well be strangers now. But why? After all, you loved him once. And he loved you, right? Based on the song “Loved you Once” by Clara Mae. Listen here. 

--

We don't need to be best friends, we don't need to hang again. But tell me why we have to be strangers because I loved you once?

What were you doing here? You haven’t been back to the clubhouse in months. Not since -- well, you know. You hadn’t talked to him since then, either. But that wasn’t your own doing. 

No, Angel had erected a veritable wall of silence, and you respected him enough not to breach it. 

That was what relationships were all about, anyway, right? Mutual respect of the other’s needs? So when Angel had told you in no uncertain terms that your relationship was over, you were … upset. Understandably. You wanted to sit with him, talk about where this sudden insistence that you depart his life had come from, but he was resolute. With the absolute air of authority that comes with either a great deal of thought, or borne of virtually sudden external influence, with nothing in between. He clearly didn’t want to sit and talk about it. 

And so you didn’t. 

Ever mindful of his wellbeing, and when he was and was not receptive to communication. 

"It ain't working," he had said. You had settled for merely imagining the faraway look in his large, oilslick eyes, since he was much more interested in staring at his boots and the grooves in his floor, his forearms laid over spread thighs, unmoving and resolute from his spot at the end of the bed. Refusing to meet your eyes. 

From your seat next to him, you made to brush the arm closest to you with your fingers. When you touched, he gave no indication that you were even there. That he even felt you. Which you knew was bullshit. He always felt you. 

"Angel, what --" you hated the way your voice cracked as you tried to ask him what the hell was going on. You hated how you had sounded so small and quavering to your own ears. That wasn't who you were. You were clear, outspoken. It was always one of the things Angel said he loved about you. Loved.

You didn't know this, of course, but Angel hated it, too. How you’d sounded in that moment. Hated that his words had taken the fire out of yours, your voice unfamiliar in its timidity. 

"It ain't working," he repeated. "I can see it. Not my fault you can't." 

That was it. 

No "I'm sorry, querida." 

No "I hope we can stay friends." 

Not that you would expect an apology, or anything as cliché as a "let's be friends," from a steadfast man like Angel. Predictable in his volatility. 

You should have pushed back. Demanded an answer. You hated that you didn’t, the shock and sudden sadness morphing you into a silent, crystalline girl you didn’t recognize. Your eyes welled with tears, turning your head away from where Angel sat -- at least you wouldn’t let him see you cry. Even if you knew he knew the tears had spilled over your lashes and down your cheeks were of his own doing. 

You had arrived back at his place a day after your tense "conversation" to discover that your items you had come to reclaim were tossed into a box and left outside of the door. 

You had knocked once, in the hope that if Angel was home, he’d at least come to the door to shout through it, or, heaven forbid, would open it so you could look him in the eyes just once more while he shattered you. Your knock was met with silence, though you could have sworn you felt Angel on the other side of the door. 

In the months since then, you had cried (obviously), you had questioned (it was sudden, it wasn't just you; your friends were surprised, too), but most importantly, you had persevered. 

You had taken a bunch of new clients and inked some pieces you were incredibly proud of. You had gone out with your friends a few times, always with a wary eye on the door of the local dive, ya know… you never knew who would walk in.

Santo Padre is a small town, after all. And the cracks in your soul were nowhere close to healed. No molten gold to spill in and repair the fissures of your heart, rendering metamorphosis of something broken to something flawed, but beautiful. You sat, alone, still just… flawed. You had never felt less beautiful. Even after all this time. 

And your friend Aneesa, ever the supporter, would stop at nothing if it meant hyping you up enough to leave your cave of blankets, sheet masks, and comfort movies. Your only rule? All nights out with Aneesa were strictly girls’ nights. She was gracious and understanding of this rule, of course. She and Gilly had been together a touch longer than you and Angel. 

And if Angel had ever asked Gilly to ask Aneesa about you? Well… you never heard about it.

Not that Angel would do any of that. Shit like that was so middle-school. 

So, here you were. Back at the clubhouse after months of self-imposed exile for the sake of self-preservation. 

Coco had texted you -- the first you’d directly heard from anyone within Angel’s circle, inviting you to a patch party for some nameless, faceless newbie. The invitation had a string attached to it, of course -- the tattoo artist’s chair in the corner of the clubhouse needed a resident for any partygoers jonesing for new ink. Certainly, the new patch would need something decidedly “Mayan” to show off his new status. 

You had hesitantly agreed -- Aneesa would be in attendance of course, and offered herself as a human-sized buffer to separate you from people you were otherwise hoping to avoid. 

--

Now, perched near the tattoo chair, you busied yourself with setting out your portfolio of completed pieces, sketches and most-requested designs. You wiped down the chair a few more times than strictly necessary, but you wanted to be ready for anyone who might plop themselves down for a new piece of art. 

The main room of the clubhouse was sweltering -- a familiar blend of desert heat, cigarette smoke, citronella, and the smell of citrusy, foamy beer. The dim lighting and thundering bass giving everything a slightly blurry edge in your party-periphery. You glanced across the room at where Aneesa and Gilly sat together on a corner couch, thighs pressed together. Aneesa tossed her head back in a full-bodied laugh at something Gilly had whispered into her ear, swatting his arm -- Gilly’s reciprocal smile demonstrating his pleasure at having garnered such a reaction from his girl. 

A wave of cheers and noise accompanied the thwack of the clubhouse door swinging open -- more Mayans pouring in, jostling one another's shoulders, slapping each other on the arms, and good-naturedly cajoling. 

There was Coco, mid-pull of the cigarette between his lips, quicksilver eyes flashing around the room, taking stock of who was where. EZ followed, million-watt smile on full display as he gently guided a pretty girl with long, inky hair through the bottleneck at the entryway. 

If EZ was ambling his way in, then, surely, not far behind ...

With an arm around a tall, broad guy you hadn’t seen before, was Angel. Midway through a joke with the guy you assumed was the new patch, you took the opportunity to study the man you had once considered the moonlit orbit of your entire world. 

You hated to admit it to yourself, but he looked good… His arms still replete with thick, corded muscle. His hair was a tad longer on top than you remembered, slicked back and belied with cleanly-cropped sides. His smile as warm and blinding as the cruel light at the end of your better dreams, only for you to awake each day alone. 

As you continued your silent study, you were surprised to see -- still adorning his left arm … the tattoo you had given him on the day you had first met. You had thought he would have blacked it out by now … a cover-up on top of a cover-up. 

But there it was --- the soft, leafy greens creeping down his forearm on sharp vines, abutted with bursting blooms -- small, ornate gladiolus buds and a sprig of purpling rosemary. Such a flowery piece on the arm of someone like Angel might have been laughable. But if anyone dared, he would simply stare, stone-faced, with burning eyes and a set jaw, ready to ask just what they thought was so fucking funny. 

To you? It was perfection. It was remembrance. 

‘Cause I loved you, once… 

---

You had moved to Santo Padre from Oakland. Hardly an axis-tilting move, but significant enough to you. 

Your friend Oliver had offered you a seat at his tattoo shop. And you? You were positively itching to get out of the city. A few too many bad nights with a few people you could no longer in good conscience consider friends. 

So, here you sat, resident of one of two chairs in this corner parlour off the so-called “main” drag in sweltering, dusty Santo Padre. 

Your books were pretty clear … Not that you attributed much logic to the ebb and flow in any conceivable pattern of the tide that was tattoo shop patrons, but January seemed an agonizingly slow month. You filled the idle time with keeping the shop neat, disinfecting and re-disinfecting every surface, and organizing Oliver’s books. 

And if you weren’t dreaming up new sketches and designs for the more adventurous prospective client, you were jotting idle lines of lyrical poetry in the margins of your sketchbook. 

If the month dragged on like this, you were sure you could publish an entire book of moody, mid-winter prose that would make Charles Bukowski want to drown himself in stiff Cabernet. 

The dinging of the bell above the parlour door yanked you from your doodling stupor. You looked up to see who had come in, your gaze met with a towering, golden-skinned man donned in a leather vest, his boots squeaking on the shop’s linoleum floor as he made his way to the front desk. He leaned over it and rapped his silver-ringed hand against the top with the ease and comfort of someone who had been in many times before. If the ink trailing his arms was any indication, he may as well be a regular, though you hadn’t seen him in before. There was no way you could forget that jawline, and those shoulders. 

“Yo,” he called in greeting, eyes flashing to where you stood, walking to meet him at the counter. You swore you saw his gaze dart over your form, giving you the old up-down. An easy smile graced his full lips as he made himself comfortable leaning against the counter.  

“Oliver here?” 

You shook your head, the action serving to answer his question and --hopefully-- clear your head of the foggy spell this man was casting over you with his presence alone.

“Nah, sorry. He’s guest-chairing at his buddy’s shop in L.A. Did you have an appointment?” 

“I look like the kind of guy with a datebook?” He chuckled at his own joke. “No appointment, corazón.” 

“Walk-in? Always a risky strategy,” you lilted. 

“What can I say? I’m a risk-taker,” he replied with the practiced ease of breezy flirtation. 

You smiled softly, grabbing Oliver’s calendar from the desk, flipping to the following week. “He’ll be back in next week, if you want to wait?” 

“That’s no good for me, babe, I’ll be out of town.”

“Ah.” You huffed a bit through your nose “Bike rally?” You asked, gesturing at his worn leather kutte, cringing internally a little at the teasing edge your voice had taken on. Were you always this bad of a flirt? 

The man looked at you shrewdly for a beat -- seemingly trying to discern just how much fun you were making of him before taking mercy on you and peeling back the slight layer of awkwardness the conversation had taken.  He scrubbed the back of his neck before confirming,

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he rumbled a chuckle. “Why? You wanna go?” He raised a full brow at you in a mild challenge. 

Your eyes widened at his seemingly-serious invitation. You took in the quirk of his lips, causing the slightest crinkle at the corner of his warm eyes -- the look of a man borne of good humor and who smiled often. It was endearing, and if you were honest, made you melt a little. Even if you now realized he was teasing you. 

“Sorry, guapo,” you cracked a smile of your own, gesturing at the empty shop. “As you can see, I’m a very busy girl. Highest of demand.” 

“Claro,” he replied. “So, I better get in while the getting’s good, huh? Your chair open now?” 

“Uhm,” you chewed your lower lip, now slightly nervous at the prospect of spending more time with this man. “¿Quieres esperar para Olí? I won’t be offended. You haven’t even seen any of my pieces.” 

A beat of silence passed between you both, the man seemingly weighing his options. 

"I mean," You broke the silence and leaned forward, lightly tapping a fingernail against his bicep. “What if my art style doesn’t suit the king of the bikers?” 

"Something tells me you'll suit me just fine." His smirk was full-bore now. He didn't miss a beat, did he?

You were silent, probably for a few moments too long. Was he actually flirting with you? You blinked. He probably flirts with everyone ... get over yourself, you internally chided.

"Angel," the man said, recovering the moment and holding out a large, ringed hand for you to shake. You gave him your name, shaking his hand firmly. 

You nodded your head over your shoulder, toward your chair. 

"Well, come on back, Angel, you can tell me about what we're doing today."

Angel followed you back to your station, and you could swear you felt his dark eyes on your form as you walked, the thought that this man was looking at you with any kind of discerning attention made your cheeks warm a little. He folded his long body into the chair you gestured toward, and you took the rolling seat next to him. He proffered his left arm to you, tracing down a spot on his forearm.

"Just wanna cover this up," he paused, letting you observe the offending ink. "It's about time." 

"'Clara Forever,' huh?" You took in the faded, loopy lettering down his forearm. "Who's Clara?" Your tone was gently teasing by nature, but he seemed to clam up a bit at the question, regarding your sharp tongue with sharper eyes.

"Well, it wasn't forever," he finally bit out, shoulders now a little more tense than before.

"Aw, cariño," you sighed in good-natured taunting. "Didn't anyone ever tell you the number one rule of tattoo? 'Forever' is a certain jinx. And a name is almost never a good idea… unless it's your dog's."

You made a sweeping hand gesture over the rest of his person, your eyes noticeably cataloguing the ink adorning most of the real estate on his arms and what little you could see of the top of his chest. 

"How did anyone let you get this far without telling you the rules?"

He relaxed at the humor in your soft voice, comfortable now that he had confirmation that you were teasing him rather than seriously ridiculing. His posture relaxed once more, he waggled his eyebrows at you, also teasing,

"Le sorprendería saber que nunca fui uno para seguir las reglas?” He asked. Would it surprise you to learn that I was never one for rules? 

"¿Tú?" Your eyes widened in mock surprise. “Para nada.” Not at all.  

"Hey," he swatted your arm gently. "Cuidaté, niña. Insulting your customers? I can see why your chair is empty." He chuckled at his own little jab as you busied yourself gathering your supplies.

You turned and reached for him, holding his arm in one hand and running your now-gloved thumb over "Clara Forever." 

"So?" You queried, "What are we doing with this? How do you want to cover it?" 

Angel shrugged, the leather adorning his shoulders creaking ever-so-slightly with the movement. 

"Figured I would just black it out. I've been putting it off long enough. To hell with her anyway, yaknow?"

"Hmm…" you considered his proposal. "I could do that, if that's what you really want. Easy enough. But…" you trailed.

He shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow at you.

"But?" He pressed.

Now it was your turn to shrug. You released his arm from your grip and gestured to the booklet containing photos of your most prized work. 

"Why waste the opportunity to give yourself something you really want?" You handed him the book. "Besides… from the looks of things, you have limited real estate left on this arm. May as well fill it with something… more you?” You made to hand him the scrapbook. “You can see what else I've done. See if anything sparks an idea." 

Angel regarded you for a moment. Leaning forward in the chair and slightly more into your space, eyes never leaving yours. He took the edge of the book, deliberately brushing his fingers over yours as he did so, making you hold your breath a little. If Angel noticed, he had the decency not to say anything. 

“Why not?”

You exhaled softly as he leaned away again, flipping his way through your book. 

As he scrutinized the photographic renderings of your pieces, you took the chance to really take him in. His strong jaw and full lips were objectively pleasant, abutted by deliberately-shaped facial hair. He had a prominent brow, something that would surely give away his feelings, even if he decided not to verbalize them. There was no hiding a frown or a smile on that face.  You fiddled with your fingers as he flipped through the pages. 

“This is some seriously top-notch shit, querida,” he voiced his approval, followed by a warm smile. He flipped his way through your minimalist renderings, floral pieces, lines of script, and one particularly involved piece with a burgundy phoenix and lifelike flames...

“Yeah?” You couldn’t hide the pleasure in your voice that he might think of you in a positive light. “Which one do you like?” 

He flipped the book to you, gesturing at a geometric planetary canvas piece you had etched down a prior client’s thigh. 

“Did you think of that one?” 

“The client had their ideas, I just execute, I guess… That was a fun one.” You shrugged, glancing at your shoes scuffing at the linoleum, suddenly feeling very shy under his scrutiny.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he leaned forward once more, his fingers gently brushing along your chin to bring your eyeline to his. “Don’t downplay your talent. You’re a badass. Own that shit.” He gave you a soft wink, releasing your chin from his grip.

Um, wow.

Was it always this hot in the back of the shop? Or were you just spontaneously combusting? Did that seriously just happen?

All you could do was nod. 

“Aight,” he crossed his legs at the ankles, making himself comfortable in the chair. “I’ve decided.” 

“Yeah?” You breathed, “What’ll it be?” 

As if he was doing nothing more complicated than ordering fries, Angel pointed at your book. “Dealer’s choice.” 

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe he was just going to trust you to cover up his ex’s name etched into his arm. “¡Oye! Did you hear nothing I said earlier about walk-ins being risky? Nothing about the rules?”

Angel scoffed. “About as well as you heard that I don’t give a shit about rules, babe,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You like rules, huh?” 

Oh. The rumbling tone his voice had taken on with his last question did not go unnoticed by you. If there was any heat to spare in this shithole desert-town, it was now one hundred percent flooding through your body. 

But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d had that effect on you… (although, let’s be real, he probably, definitely, already knew).

“Fine, Angelito,” the mocking tone had returned to your voice. “But unlike Clara, this one’s gonna be forever. If I find out you cover up my art, I’m gonna blacklist you at every shop in Southern California.” You raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. “Can you live with that?”

Angel nodded. 

“Do your worst, Vince.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the moniker. “Vince?” 

“Yeah,” he seemed so assured in his own cleverness. “Like Van Gogh?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Van Gogh!?” You feigned offense, hand-over-heart, lashes batting. “Not even Frida? Come oooon, Angelito.” 

He chuckled. Shifting in the chair and offering his arm to you so you could get him ready. 

“You gotta earn ‘Frida,’ dulcita.” 

“Everyone’s a critic,” you sigh, shifting your focus and taking stock of the space on Angel’s arm and what you had learned of him so far.

Someone who was seemingly confident and breezy, whose rough exterior belied something softer that was just out of reach. Someone who clearly cherished things and people he adored, if the tribute you were now covering was anything to go by. And, by the same token, more than a little impulsive. He wore his heart on his sleeve, apparently literally. 

You gathered your inks and began to work, your playlist and the buzzing of the tattoo gun filling the silence. 

It’s not like you had any reason to know it, but Angel considered you as you were working, admiring your focus and the intensity with which you afforded your art. Was he a little nervous about the fact that you were free-handing a design for him off the top of your head? Maybe... But what was life without a little risk? And he certainly wouldn’t mind a little risk with you. You were, it was obvious to him, very pretty. It was more than a little off-putting how easily you traded quips with him, seemingly unaffected by his presence and everything that came with it. If it wasn’t for the little hitches in your breath when he gently flirted with you, he wouldn’t have anything to go off of in terms of your interest. Something that was both respectable and maddening to him. 

He reached his other arm over to the side-table, grabbing your sketchbook and idly flipping through the etchings. 

Not only was the book filled with little designs, splashes of watercolor mixing with pen and charcoal, but he noticed the cramped words in the margins, perusing at his leisure and ignoring the itching buzz of the needle on the skin of his other arm.

“So, not only a Vince, but a Frost,” he broke the silence. 

You paused your work, wiping your brow with the back of your hand and looking at him with a question in your eyes.

He tapped his finger along the lines of prose in your book. “A poet,” he said. 

“Ah,” you said. “Uhm, more like a bad poet,” you chuckled, embarrassed. You made to begin again, when Angel gently gripped the wrist of your free hand. 

“The fuck did I just say?” He lightly tugged, forcing you to look into his maddeningly honey-dark eyes. “Don’t brush off your shit. Would Frida do that?” 

You regarded his eyes for a moment longer, darting your gaze to his pouty lips, resolutely set in their mission of imparting some of his confidence onto you. 

“Point taken, Angel,” you pulled your hand from his grip, which he released, trailing his fingertips over your hand as he did so. “I’m the greatest poet who ever lived, you’ve convinced me. Fuck William Shakespeare.” 

“Yeah,” Angel boisterously agreed, pleased to be bolstering you but surprising you with the little barking shout, “Fuck that dude!” 

You chuckled, shaking your head and silently returning to your work, the silence filled once more with the pleasant buzzing as you drew away. 

When you were finished, you released Angel’s arm, allowing him to inspect the clean lines of the greenery that you had drawn out of his former-love tribute. What were once loopy, cursive letters were now vines creeping steadily along his forearm, soft, yellow and red gladiolus buds emerging from where Clara’s name had once sat, neatly finished with the clean lines of the purpling sprig of rosemary along the edge of the piece. 

Angel was speechless, leaving you to marinate in your nerves. 

“It’s …” he started, “... flowery,” he supplied, lamely. 

“No shit it’s flowers,” you shot back, feeling a little defensive now, but wanting to make a quick recovery. “And they’re for you, Angel.” 

He seemed puzzled. 

“Gotta say, Vince, this is the first time a chick’s gotten me flowers,” he chuckled, “Guess they won’t die?” 

“They won’t,” you assured. “They really are for you, you know? Look at you, the rest of your ink. What it covered. You’re clearly a man formed by your experiences. It only seemed right, si? Gladiolus? They’re for remembrance. Rosemary? Symbolizes thoughtfulness and memory.” 

You continued as you began wipe the piece clean before wrapping it in new saran-wrap, “Your memories and choices make you who you are, sure. But you never know… something good could bloom from them, through the cracks."

His silence at the end of your little soliloquy was deafening. He hated it, you were sure of it. Fuck. Why did you have to get so fucking clever with him? You should’ve just done some black ink in something tribal, something masculine. What the fuck was wrong with you??

You dared to sneak a glance at his face, only to find that he was already staring at you, lips softly upturned in the hinting bloom of a smile, tarpit eyes twinkling with a good-natured mirth he would come to reserve just for you. 

“Fuck Shakespeare. That was damn beautiful, Frida.” 

The heat had returned to your cheeks, standing quickly. 

You stripped off your gloves, and made to turn your way to the counter, gathering the aftercare sheet and balm for Angel to take with him. 

You spun back toward him before he could get up.

“Oh! Can I take a picture?” You held up your phone, shaking it lightly. “For the ‘gram?” 

“Sure thing,” Angel dutifully held his arm under the lamp you had used to work, letting the fresh ink and colors pop against the golden dunn of his skin. 

You took a few photos, deciding to scroll through your camera roll later on and post your favorite. You made quick work of wrapping his arm in a sheet of clean plastic wrap before relinquishing your hold on his arm, turning to walk back to the counter. 

“Uhm,” you trailed … the telltale squeak of Angel’s boots on the linoleum indicating he was following you back to the front of the shop. You assembled everything into a bag for Angel to take with him, grabbing one of your cards from the front card-holder, and quickly jotting your number on the back next to your where the instagram handle for your art page was neatly printed, hoping he didn’t notice your sneaky little move. 

Angel resumed his comfortable lean against the counter, turning and tilting his forearm, scrutinizing your work. 

“It’s gonna be a clean one-fifty, Angel.”

He looked slightly surprised at the figure, a light frown dusting his features. 

“You sure about that? For the size, and the color, and time and everything? It’s been, like, hours.”

You shrugged. 

“We’ll call it the friends-and-family rate.” 

He gave you a long look, very clearly looking you up and down now, a prolonged edition of the greeting he had graced you with when he had entered your shop mere hours before. 

“And is that what we are now, querida? Friends?” 

How was it even possible for his voice to reach such a low register when he said these things to you?

While your insides flip-flopped at the flirtation, you hoped your face was the impassive mask you were trying to school it into. You subtly brushed your slightly-sweating palms against the frayed hem of your shorts before bringing an elbow up to the counter, resting your chin in your palm, lightly batting your lashes at him before responding...

“Sure,” you replied. There! Easy, breezy, cool-as-you-please. How does it feel, Angel?

“One day with you and friends already?” He rapped his ringed hand gently against the counter. “Can’t wait to see where we’re at tomorrow.” 

He swiped the bag off of the counter, tossing a few crisp bills onto the countertop and a wink over his shoulder before exiting the shop. 

You counted the bills on the counter, watching as Angel left the building.

Holy shit.

Three hundred bucks. He had tipped you 100 percent of what you charged him.

Cheeky.

Maybe Santo Padre wasn’t so bad, after all… 

---

Now, staring at him from across the room made you feel like you were drowning in the sickly-sweet cotton candy of sugared dreams, now lost to time. The saccharine balm melted to acrid wax, leaving you with only the tinge of bitterness. 

You were jostled out of your reverie by the sudden appearance of EZ’s blocky frame, ambling toward you with the same girl from before on his arm. 

He greeted you with a slow wave and a soft smile. 

“Hey, girl,” he greeted, clearly unsure of how much friendlier and closer he should approach you. 

You took mercy on Angel’s sweet, (big) little brother, opening your arms slightly for a hug. EZ took to the gesture like an over-excited golden retriever, scooping you up and spinning you once, before putting you back where he found you, slightly dizzier than you were before. 

He offered your name to the girl by his side, who looked pleasantly amused at the spectacle before her, her amusement melting to recognition at the name EZ had imparted to her. 

Ah. So she knew who you were. 

You tried not to let that realization sour your encounter, easing a practiced smile onto your features and offering your hand to the girl to shake. 

“Oh!” EZ chuckled. “This is Gaby -- er, Gabriela.” 

“Encantada,” you eased, gently shaking her hand before having a realization of your own. “Gaby, as in Leti’s friend?” 

She nodded, a warm smile illuminating her already sunshiney features. You could see why EZ obviously liked her. She had the practiced social grace of a debutante, but the friendly aura of someone you had known for your entire life. 

“I hope you’re keeping Ezekiel out of trouble,” you teased gently. 

“Only as well as I can,” she replied. EZ rubbed the back of his neck as you two gossiped about him like he wasn’t standing right there. 

“Listen, hermanita,” EZ began, swirling the dregs of his beer around the bottle clutched in his hand as the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, “About Angel --” 

That was a hard no. 

“Coco!” You called as you spotted the lithe man prowling through the crowd after obtaining a drink from the bar, effectively shutting EZ up. 

Coco sidled over, slinging an arm over your shoulder and nodding in greeting to EZ and Gaby. 

“Wassup, chiquita? Over here with all the cool kids?” 

“You know damn well I was never cool enough for the cool kids,” you knocked your shoulder into Coco’s good-naturedly. 

“Dunno about that, pequeña,” Coco took a drag of his cigarette, sighing as he exhaled. “I’ve got some pretty cool body armour thanks to you.” 

“All in a day's work,” you mock-saluted. You were doing great. Keep it light, keep it friendly. You may be able to make it out of this unscathed, after all. 

Gaby and EZ were speaking softly to one another just to your side, as you and Coco continued your conversation. 

“So, who’s the new guy?” You asked, nodding over to where Angel and the still-unnamed newbie were tossing back shots. You tried to ignore that each one had girls placed on each of their laps. Well, mostly you were trying to ignore one girl placed on one lap; tried to ignore as ringed fingers trailed up and down her thigh hypnotically as he howled in laughter at something the new guy had said. 

The longer you stared at the way he was touching her, the more You thought you could feel it on your own skin. And you knew all too well how that touch felt. Memories, make you, right? 

You blinked harshly, turning your face back to Coco’s, only to find his hawkish eyes trained on you as he continued to smoke. Now you were certain he had seen everything you had, and more. And you cursed yourself for slipping. Because nothing slipped past Coco. 

He took mercy on you nevertheless. 

“Andres. He’s aight. You may not remember him from before, when he was just a prospect.” 

“Guess not,” you agreed, shrugging amiably, suddenly very interested in toying with the hem of your flowy little summertime skirt. 

“Mierda,” you heard Coco hiss, glancing up to see none other than the new guy -- Andres -- walk over, his arm around the waist of the girl from his lap, accompanied by none other than Angel Reyes, furnished with his own lap-turned-arm candy. She was giggling in his ear, popping her gum and bumping her hips against Angel’s as she walked by his side. 

You felt EZ stiffen from your other side. 

Great. 

The easy smile you’d had when conversing with Coco now felt positively screwed into place, settling unnaturally, a stranger's face made up of your own features. 

Andres smirked at you in greeting, eyes trailing over you -- the most unwelcome iteration of that gesture in this context to-date. 

“I hear you’re the girl to see about some ink.” 

You bit back the snarky response that rose to your tongue. You see anyone else here, tonto?

“Sure am,” you replied, cool as you pleeeeaseeee. Maybe a little too cool. The ice in your voice was obvious to everyone except the strangers before you. 

You really were doing great, weren’t you? 

“Great,” the new meat brushed the girl off from his side, plopping unceremoniously into your chair. “You did that right?” He pointed behind you to where Angel was standing, gesturing at his arm and your miniscule mural of memorial greenery. 

“Cierto.” You nodded, sparing Angel’s arm the barest of glances.

“Aight, well, none of that girly shit, alright, sweetheart? Angel may have had the good grace not to say anything, but flowers ain’t really my style, yeah?” 

What the fuck.  

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Coco visibly tense next to you, obviously displeased at the uncalled-for critique of your work. Of a piece he himself had often admired. He would never admit it, but he thought the story behind it was even better. It’s like you had walked out of some shitty romcom Leti watched with her tittering friends and into Angel’s dreams, sinking yourself beneath Angel's skin like a dream he would recount to all of his friends. Coco knew the most about you by nature of Angel's second-hand stories when you were together. Although Coco thought, once he had met you, Angel's stories didn't do you justice. How wonderful and talented you were. How warm and welcoming.

Angel watched the exchange silently, clearly none too keen to defend the piece you had designed for him. That had come to mean so much to you. 

That stung.

You winced, almost imperceptibly. But you were certain Coco saw it, not much escaping his sniper’s eyes. EZ, with his owlish perception and photographic memory, certainly would have seen it, too. If Angel saw it, it’s not like he was going to say anything now. 

Where the fuck was Aneesa? Wasn’t she supposed to be heading this kind of shit off? You glanced over at the couches in the corner where your friend had previously been sitting with GIlly, and was now nowhere to be seen. Fuckin’ typical. 

“Aight, no más flores." No more flowers. “What were you thinking, then?” 

That was you, ever the professional. 

Andres showed you his phone, a rendering of an old-style beastly cat, like a panther from an old folktale, pulled up in his image search. 

“Something for a warrior,” he puffed his chest slightly. “I was thinking here,” he shrugged out of one side of his new kutte, tugging the button-up to expose one side of his chest. 

“You got it.” 

You set to work, cleaning the area to be inked and getting your tools ready. The rest of the group drifted as the project progressed, clearly not feeling the need to stand there for the entire duration of a tattoo. 

You were acutely aware that Angel hadn’t stepped as far away as the others, circumventing the periphery of yours and Andres’ space, not close, but not far. And he still had yet to even look in your direction. Or acknowledge your existence. 

You tried your best to ignore the icy shard of Angel’s indifference that was currently wedging its way between your ribs and lodging itself firmly once more into your heart. At this point, you guessed it would never heal. 

“Sooooo,” Andres lolled his head to the side of his chair to face you, slinging back the beer from the bottle dangling in his free hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You were around a little bit when I was prospecting.” 

You opted not to respond, aware that Angel was likely listening, and you would need to choose any words carefully. Andres had no such reservation, clearly uncaring about who might be listening. He pressed on, each word more infuriating than the last. 

“You were Angel’s little sidepiece for a while, right?”   

You tried to keep your despairing sigh to a quiet little nothing. 

“Sure.” You offered lamely. “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really work better when I’m not talking.” 

“S’alright, jaina. I can talk enough for the both of us.” 

You hmm’d nonchalantly at that, lip imperceptibly curling over your teeth in distaste at the moniker. You chose instead to focus on the piece. You wouldn’t give a shitty tattoo, even if this guy was a douchebag. And the pleasant buzz of the tattoo gun. Maybe you were etching the lines a little sharper than strictly necessary. If he noticed, Andres gave no indication, continuing on with his diatribe: 

“So, what happened? I mean, Angel knocked that other chick up? Ouch, right?” 

You were now seeing red, the edges of your vision blurring slightly with angry, pinpricking tears. Thank fuck you were just about done with this. 

“But that’s the life right? I mean, we’re not exactly known for being steady with just one chick. You know how it goes ...” He eyed you up and down again, lingering a little too long on your legs before finishing his thought with a smirk “... Clearly.” 

You hated his use of “we,” like he was in any way, shape, or form worthy to be in the class of man EZ, Coco, Bishop, or, hell, even Angel, was. None of them would talk to you like this. No matter what Angel had done. 

You shut off the gun, pushing back from the space with Andres, spinning in your chair, and grabbing the clean wipes for Andres’ fresh ink. As you dabbed the area and made to bandage it, the oblivious biker grabbed your wrist. None of the teasing fun or gentleness in the same gesture that Angel had imparted when you had first met. No, Andres’ grip hurt. It was all bruising possession and entitlement. 

“I think we would have fun, you and I.” He leaned forward and far too into your space, the stale stink of warm beer heavy on his breath. 

You wrenched your grip from his, standing quickly and offering him a tight smile, cheeks flaming with your anger and embarrassment. How dare he speak so trivially of your relationship with Angel. How dare he think you were so easily won with his kutte and shitty attitude. 

“Uhm,” you tugged your fingers agitatedly through the ends of your hair, chewing your lip. “You’re all set, Andres. Aftercare sheet is on the table next to you. It’s on the house. Happy patch party!” Your voice sounded so shrill and fake in your own head, but you just didn’t have it in you to care at the moment. 

With that, you quickly whirled on your heel, in a distressed flurry past the Angel-shaped blur who had been watching the entire encounter, and out of the clubhouse door into the cooler late-night air. 

Getting heavy to breathe in this room together. It’s so awkward, we can’t seem to do it better. Can’t we just fake a smile and put our shit to the side? 

---

Angel had waited a whopping 18 hours to text you after your clandestine tattooed meet-cute. 

You were in the middle of exchanging consultation e-mails with a prospective client when your phone had buzzed. 

“Vince?” The text read. 

You bit back a smirk before responding,

“Vince? No Vince here. This is Frida’s phone.”

You watched as the little bubbles appeared in the corner, disappeared for a second, and then reappeared. You were grateful for the little manifestation of Angel’s hesitance. It made him seem more human. And it made you appreciative that he was clearly trying to choose his words with you, when words had seemed to come so easily to him when you had met. 

“My bad. Oh, beautiful, talented Frida.” 

You couldn’t hold back the smile on your features now. Grateful it was still you and only you in the shop so that no one could see your “obviously-texting-a-cute-guy” face. 

“It’s nice to hear from you, Angel. Good thing you didn’t throw away the card.” 

“That card was clearly a gift, querida. Much like the pretty flowers on my arm.” He snapped you a picture of his tattoo, the healing process underway. 

“Looks great!” You sent, cringing at your lack of ability to effectively flirt via text. It was something that your friends had teased you relentlessly about back in the Town -- your notorious lack of game. No! New home, new you! Be cute. Be cute. 

“So, if I’ve given you all the gifts, what do I get?” You sent with a “thinking” emoji. 

Angel at least had the decency to wait a minute or two before replying, either thinking about his response or keeping you in suspense… you weren’t sure. But you were grateful for the little opportunity to catch your breath. How did he make you so speechless when he wasn’t even in the room with you? Some things just weren’t fair. 

“Niña, I paid you for this ink. What more could you possibly want from me?” 

Tricky Angel. Zorro. Like a little fox, he had effectively maneuvered the conversation back to you -- the ball was in your court. Would you tell him what you wanted?

You chewed the end of your fingernail thoughtfully before responding. 

“You texted me, boy. Are you sure it isn’t you who wants something?”

If only your friends could see you now. That was damn smooth. 

“Boy?” 

You snorted to yourself. Trust a guy like Angel to get hung up on something small like that. The bubbles reappeared. 

“I was thinking about this pretty girl I met the other day. Hell of an artist. But a shit poet. Thought I would see if she was free sometime?” 

Angel was merciful. You could kiss him. Had he seriously just taken all the weight out of this conversation? Your heart felt a million pounds lighter in your chest, knowing he was asking you. The wave of relief that he wanted to see you again crashed through you, replaced in the tide with the backdraft of a feeling of mischievousness. You wouldn’t let him off so easily.

So you waited before responding. Let him sweat a little, right?

Only… you weren’t sure Angel was sweating as much as you were, fingers itching with the desire to text him back and accept immediately. 

When what had felt like an eternity (but in reality had only been about seven minutes) had passed, you picked up your phone, opening the conversation with Angel. 

“She’s free next Thursday … After your bike week, el rey de los bandoleros.” 

You put your phone back down on the counter, grinning like an idiot, feeling like you had just swallowed a bunch of bubbles. You entertained the notion that if your combat boots weren’t keeping your feet weighted to the floor, you would have floated away. 

Your phone dinged once more.

“See you then, mi reina.” 

Time passes slowly the more you want it to go quickly. And whenever you have a deadline you’re dreading, it gallops ahead. Time really is that bitch, and she does not give a fuck about your feelings. 

The following Thursday felt like it took a year to arrive. But it found you closing up the shop, your stomach fluttering with butterflies and pop rocks, adorned in your favorite pair of jeans and boots, a clean, flattering tank top that showed off your own ink. You hoped it was fine for whatever Angel had in mind. 

Honestly, he hadn’t said anything about your date. A few flirtatious texts here and there? Obviously. You sent him photos of the pieces you had done for new clients. He sent you ridiculous selfies and a couple of group pics of him and his friends at the biker event. One guy who kept popping up in the photos, Angel had told you, was his “little” brother. But there was nothing “little” about that dude. 

You loved seeing all of Angel’s goofy, smiling faces. Treasuring the photos in your small moments of quiet downtime. 

The rumbling of a bike engine greeted your ears, like the seductive purr of a large cat. You glanced up, a full Cheshire grin alighting your features at the sight of Angel’s gorgeous, deep forest green bike, and the man of the hour looking very at home on the seat. 

He rolled to a stop in front of you, unclipping his helmet and dismounting with his winning trademark smirk, ambling over to greet you. 

“Frida,” he scooped you into a hug, his tall frame causing you to lift, your toes now barely brushing the ground as he brought you to his height. He pressed a soft kiss to your check, setting you down gently and letting you get your bearings, chuckling pleasantly at the obvious, dizzying effect his greeting had had on you.

“Angelito,” you returned. “Back in one piece?”

“Hail to the king, baby,” he countered. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, scuffing the toe of your boot into the gravel of the lot. “So, where are you taking me, o benevolent one?”

“Just gonna hafta find out.” He handed his helmet to you, helping you clip and tighten it beneath your chin. “Ever ridden before?”

“Uhm, well, sure” you replied too assuredly, quickly realizing your slip. “I mean, no. Not like that. I mean, yes, like that. But not on one of these.” Fuck. Could you be more embarrassing? 

Angel released a full-bellied laugh at your response, his head tossing back a little. 

“You’ll have to tell me more about alla that later, cielo.” You put your head in your palm willing the embarrassment to go away. Angel quickly pried your hands away, cupping your cheeks with his own warm hands, long fingers brushing your cheekbones reverently. “In the meantime, just hang on, okay?” 

You nodded, still cursing your idiot-brain that had partnered with the dirtiest corners of your mind to take over your mouth. Shut the fuck up, dumb-dumb. 

You clung to Angel as he drove, your hands roaming his firm torso probably a little too-familiarly. You enjoyed the way the wind whipped around you, tugging at yours and Angel’s clothes as you made your way up the canyon overlooking the desert that was Santo Padre. 

Angel parked his bike on the ridge overlooking the town, the sun beginning its descent in the desert sky in swirling hues of pastels and cotton candy pink-purple-blue overtaking the orange hue. 

You had never been up here before, and you told Angel as much. He looked pleased at that, pleased that he was the one to show you the best view of the Santo Padre sunset. 

Angel busied himself unpacking the bags on the side of his bike while you enjoyed the scenery. Pulling out a couple of wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water, he handed yours to you, coming to stand next to you on the ridge. 

"Thanks," you acknowledged, looking at the offerings. "What, no beer?"

Angel chuckled a little at that.

"I ain't tryna liquor you up, niña. Besides, you want warm beer that's been rattling around on my bike all afternoon?"

You crinkled your nose a little at that. "No," you decided. "Never mind. Besides, I'm more of a whiskey girl."

Angel glanced at you, sipping on his own water idly.

"Really?"

"Really," you confirmed. "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks it's impressive when a girl drinks whiskey because it's such a 'man thing.' "

Angel held up one hand, defensively. 

"Nunca. Just took you for more of a… dunno? Maybe a rum kinda girl?"

"Don't think so. For now, though? Water and sandwiches do me just fine. Whiskey can come later." You took a bite of the now-unwrapped sandwich. "This is good," you confirmed around a slightly-full mouth. "Did you make this?"

"Of course. Pop owns the butcher shop down the street from your parlour. Sliced the meat myself, an' all," he said, a little proudly now that he knew you approved of his sandwich-making skills.

"Bueno," you giggled. "Thank you for this, Angel. Really. This is one of the nicest nights I've had since moving here." You shuffled a little closer to where he was standing, looking in his eyes as you thanked him.

"Bah," he waved away your compliments, "it ain't alla that. This can't be the most exciting thing you've done since getting here."

"Maybe it is," you pressed. "I dunno. Maybe I'm too boring for the king of the bikers?"

"I doubt that very seriously, querida," he turned his body so he was facing you now, sandwich long gone, fiddling with the water bottle in his hands. "You play your cards right, I'll introduce you to the rest of the club. Then things'll get really exciting."

You blinked. One date and he already was thinking about introducing you to his friends? Your inner shy romantic (okay, not so "inner," right? You're pretty clear about who you are) was doing little somersaults in your chest. 

You must've been silent a beat too long because Angel was quick to supplement, "Only if you want."

"I'd like that," you confirmed, nodding and smiling gently. 

"So, are you gonna tell me what brings an East Bay girl here?" 

You raised a brow. You didn't remember telling him where you moved from. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck nervously, realizing you'd caught his slip. 

"I maaaay have scrolled your Instagram?"

You finished your sandwich, thinking about how much you wanted to tell him.

"Just time for a change of scenery. Olí is an old friend, and he offered me a job. I think he wants to travel more." You shrugged, "It just felt like it was time. Plus, I dunno… I like it here. Much quieter."

Angel nodded at that, not having the heart to tell you that his club was not at all quiet and was the source of the disruption in the otherwise-quaint town. 

You kept talking, telling him about the friends you'd left behind, your old shop, weekends spent in the park surrounding Lake Merritt, and going to Raiders games. Angel took in your features as you spoke, the golden light of the sunset making you glow like something out of a dream he'd had once. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about things you loved, the books and art that inspired your poetry. How you'd gone to art school. You were something.

"-- Sorry, I'm rambling," you breathed in a rush, flush with the amount of talking you'd been doing in a record amount of time. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?"

Angel realized he'd been staring as long as you'd been talking.

"No, querida. Nothing in your teeth." He gave you a dazzlingly white smile.

"Oh thank God," you returned his smile with a small one of your own, shying a little under his gaze, and wondering how long he had been looking at you like that as you'd talked.

He leaned over you now, his height giving him the definite advantage as he'd -- not unwelcomely-- invaded your space. He brought one hand up to cup your chin, his dark eyes revealing flecks of sparkling gold in the pastel wash of the sunset as his gaze once again met yours.

You saw his quick glance down at your lips, you unconsciously giving a small nod before his warm lips met yours.

Oh.

You had obviously been kissed before, been the recipient of past romantic attention. All of that paled in comparison, melting away as Angel's full lips maneuvered over yours, both of his large, calloused hands gently brushing your cheeks as he cupped your face, sliding one hand down to rest on the side of your neck.

You sighed lightly, one of your own hands twined into his shirt, the other resting on the side of his firm torso. 

Angel took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, your own brushing against his as the kiss deepened.

 You were in no hurry for the kiss to end, enjoying the way everything about Angel was so warm, something that was surprisingly welcome, despite the ever-present desert heat of Santo Padre. You could get used to this. 

You had only known Angel a short time, realistically. Your one meeting spawning a series of flirtatious texts and snaps, and now this date that, while low-key, felt almost too perfect to be real. He made you feel safe, desired.

You could already feel him slipping beneath your skin to rest in a special place in your heart. And while you as a person were generally reticent to share that part of yourself with anyone, you had a feeling Angel could take up permanent residence there. If he wanted. 

You dropped from your tip-toes, effectively breaking the kiss.

Angel blinked, looking down at you and noting the pleasant glow on your skin, lips now slightly swollen from his kiss. He could get used to this.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur, trading quips and stories as the sun went down. Angel told you about his club, his brothers. About his pop and Ezekiel, and how at one time, he enjoyed being the bigger brother, teasing, pranking and lording over EZ until EZ had hit his growth spurt and could (and would) definitely hit back. 

As he drove you home, you snuggled a little bit against him, pressing yourself into his back and enjoying the way you swore you could feel his heart pounding through the kutte and over the rumble of the bike and the road.

He'd dropped you off with a parting kiss and the promise of another date.

Another date turned into several. Time you weren't at the shop was now spent with Angel, showing him what you were working on, inviting him over for dinners and to watch mindless television while he told you what he could about his day. 

The both of you were slowly peeling back the layers around your respectively guarded hearts, revealing more of yourselves only to be met with pure acceptance by the other. Even blindados had to take off their armour at some point. 

You cherished your time with Angel, and he quickly found himself stumbling, head over his own biker-booted heels for you.

After a few months had passed, he had brought you to meet the club. You had manifested nothing but general acceptance of his lifestyle and were eager to meet the people Angel had so obviously cared for. Who had helped shape him into the brash but conscientious person he was with you. 

And one sunny afternoon had found you bringing lunch you had made for the entire club over to the scrapyard, Angel agreeing with your plan. You never were one to show up empty-handed. 

As you walked across the yard, past the gate, and into the clubhouse, your eyes adjusting to the dim interior from the blinding sun outdoors, Angel bounded over to greet you. Taking the bag full of homemade goodies from your arms, he pressed quick kisses to your cheeks, and one to your forehead. 

He turned, met with the pleasantly-surprised stares of his brothers. He announced your name to the room before turning to you, pointing at each man and supplying a name. You nodded, smiling and offering a warm wave to each. 

The man you knew to be EZ from all of Angel's initial texts and photos quickly strode over to you, shaking your hand in his impressively firm grip before bending down to press a quick kiss to your cheek with a,

"Bienvenido, hermanita. Angel's told me a lot about you. Won't shut up, really," giving you a sly wink as Angel swatted EZ's arm in annoyance at his brother's revelation.

Boys.

The smaller man with the sharp eyes and full curls you knew to be Coco made his way over to where you were now seated as Angel went to get you both drinks, the other men digging into your offerings as you made yourself comfortable.

He sat next to you, tossing you a, "You mind?" Lighting his cigarette after you’d shaken your head.

He studied you through his own plumes of smoke before leaning across the table and speaking to you, lowly and with an almost conspiratorial rasp to his voice,

"You did that cover-up for Angel?" He asked on a smooth exhale.

"Mhmm," you nodded. "He gave me free reign. I was nervous he'd hate it."

Coco seemed to chew over your words for a dragging moment. You shifted in your seat. He was definitely sizing you up.

"Bold move, pequeña, giving the secretario of a biker club a sleeve of flowers." 

"I suppose it was," you sighed, more than a little uncertain now. "But it felt meaningful, right, I guess. I just sort of… started drawing. I… think it worked out, though?" You trailed off.

Coco nodded. "It's a fuckin' good piece, mami. Angel told me what you'd said about memories making you who you are." He snorted lightly through his nose. "It's funny. We've never even met before, and you're already sounding like me." 

A small smile played across his lips, returning it with one of your own.

"I'm glad you approve," you nodded. "Angel's opinion obviously matters, and don't tell him I told you this, but it means alot coming from one of his family." 

And that's what they were. His family. You could see it. The obvious camaraderie and care underlying each of their actions with the other. You admired the system of support, cushioned by good humor, despite being flung regularly into harsh reality. It was clear -- they were there for one another.

Coco's voice broke your train of thought,

"Maybe you got space for me in your books one-a these days?"

Your small smile was a full-blown, sunny grin now.

"Of course. Anytime you want to drop by, you're more than welcome." 

"Gracias, chica." Coco leaned across the table and patted your shoulder before getting up and taking his leave.

And so it went. The boys would filter through your shop. Olí teasing you about his offense that all of his most lucrative, inked clients were now going to you. 

You enjoyed the time working on pieces for them afforded you -- offering you a glimpse into their inner workings, what they felt was important enough to take up permanent residence along their skin. Making idle chit-chat with you while you worked. And always, always sharing embarrassing little anecdotes about Angel. 

The months passed with you and Angel, finding comfort in your unpredictable, but welcome, respective routines. 

One night in particular found Angel wrapped up in your embrace, the physical embodiment of your gradual and growing trust in one another.

He had arrived home more than a little rattled, his eyes wildly darting to the corners of the room before settling in you, exhaling a shaky breath before striding the length of the room and crushing you to him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. 

You understood he probably couldn't tell you what had happened, but you asked anyway, needing him to know you would hear him.

"Angelito, everything okay?" 

He shook his head softly in the negative, but didn't elaborate. 

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it," you wound your arms up and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "But it's going to be okay. I've got you. I won't let go."

He gripped your wrists, pulling your hands from his neck and sliding your arms down, bringing them to rest around his waist. Once he had positioned you where he wanted, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, eyes heavy and dark with the weight of his stormy thoughts. 

He nodded at what you had said before bringing his lips back to yours. 

You brought one hand up to meet his, where it rested along your cheek. You twined your fingers through, joining your hands while breaking the kiss. You lead him through the apartment, bringing him to the bedroom. You had music softly playing from your speaker in the corner, candles lit to bathe the room in ambient glow and a warm, honey smell, all in anticipation of Angel's eventual arrival home.

You silently gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, where you took your seat next to him. 

You tugged the leather kutte from his shoulders, folding it reverently and placing it on the chair near the bed. He exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging once the leather manifestation of his obligation to a darker world had been removed. The weight of the world a little less on the mantle of his shoulders. 

You turned your attention to his feet next, unlacing and tugging off his boots. Then, his belt. 

Once he was just in his jeans and his t-shirt, you resumed your seat at his side, bringing him back into your embrace and carding your hands through his hair, as his head rested on your shoulder. 

Angel spoke, voice cracking as he broke the seal of silence in the room. 

"It was… it was awful, Frida." He sighed. "I do everything they ask. It's my job … Fuck. Sometimes I wonder how much more my heart can take. But then, I get to come home to you." 

His breath was shuddering now.

And while you didn't always know what to say -- it was a rare sight to see Angel so rattled. But you were a caregiver by nature, ready to give him the pieces of yourself that would make him feel whole.

You guided him down so that he could recline, you came to rest at his side, winding your arms around his torso, your face turned into his neck, cuddling him as he came down from the mania of his emotional high.

The moments passed, Angel's breathing leveling again as you stroked his hair in time to the soft music.

He turned his head to look at you, admiring the flutter of your lashes as you blinked at him, your gaze warm and adoring, full of twinkling fairy light and starshine. 

"Te amo, querida," Angel breathed. This was not the first time he had said it to you during your months together. But each time felt as momentous as the first, each declaration of love felt like the slip of something sweet, and you were determined to store it in your heart and mind forever.

"I love you too, Angel. More than anything," you murmured. "I love your smile, your sense of humor, your strength." You pressed kisses to his face and neck with each admission. "Mostly, I love your strength. And that you trust me enough to tell me when you don't always feel it."

He sucked in a shuddering breath before whispering to you,

"I love your mind. How creative you are. How you see everything so beautiful, just like you," he hmm’d. "Mostly I love your trust. And that you choose to give it to me." 

You kissed him again, leaning over him with your entire body, pressing your palms gently into his shoulders. 

As your kiss deepened, you each began to tug at the other. His hands carded through your hair, tugging gently, but firmly. You lifted his shirt from his torso, the kiss breaking so you could peel it away.

You divested one another of each layer, baring yourselves to the other, body and soul. Again, this wasn't the first time you had done this. But this felt momentous nonetheless. 

Angel skimmed his hands over your form, running his hands softly down and over your breasts, loving your soft sigh at his touch. 

You leaned over him once more, reluctantly removing his hands from you, and placing them gently down at his sides. 

"Your heart is mine, mine to protect," You hummed softly, invading his senses and placing kisses down Angel's neck and to his chest, trailing your lips lovingly over Angel's heart, and pressing one last deliberate kiss there. "And I take my job very seriously." 

As you kissed him, you lightly trailed your fingers down his torso, coming to rest at his hip.

Your declaration was met with silence; you glanced up at Angel through your lashes only to find him already looking down through heavy-lidded eyes at you, his now swirling with some unnamed, weighted emotion.

You trailed your hand across his hip, not breaking eye contact as you took his hardening length into your hand. He inhaled sharply at the sensation of your grip, but refused to look away as you began to pump him slowly, still pressing kisses to his hips, torso and thighs. 

"Please, querida," Angel gasped.

"Please, what?" You murmured back, your voice taking a throaty register you reserved strictly for private moments with your beloved.

"Please… use your pretty mouth?" 

You nodded. 

"Relájate, baby, I've got you," you assured. Sweeping your hair back, the action washing Angel with the sweeping comfort of your scent as you made your way lower down his body. 

Angel slumped back against the bedspread, glittering galaxy eyes still trained on you as you lavished him with attention. 

You took the opportunity to flatten your tongue, licking a broad stripe up the length of him, one hand braced against his firm thigh, the other holding him gently at the base of his cock as you worked.

You swirled your tongue around the tip of him, delighted at his throaty moans, feeling the effect they had on you, making you feel like you were burning from the inside, feeling the slickness from your own center as your thighs rubbed together. 

Taking Angel wholly into your mouth now, you bobbed over him, relishing in the heavy feel of him in your mouth and the throaty groans you received from Angel in response. 

Before you could spend too long lavishing him with attention, Angel tugged on your hair at the base of your neck. Following his grip, you lifted your head and released him from, watching (a little greedily) as his thick length bobbed against him when you relinquished him from the confines of your mouth. 

He guided you up his body, hand still knotted in your hair, pushing his mouth onto yours, uncaring of the saliva on your lips and chin, and the taste of himself on your tongue. 

You straddled his hips, surging the rest of the way up his body and effectively deepening the kiss. The hand that was once in your hair now made its way to loosely grip at your throat, the other skimming his way down your breasts, across your ribs and toward your center.

As his fingers traced through your folds, you involuntarily rolled your hips into his hand, alight at his touch, and desperately seeking more. 

Angel touching you was like the shock of a live wire. Every time felt just as electric as the last, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as his fingers traced across your skin. 

He chuckled through your fused mouths, drawing back at your reaction and the wetness he found between your legs.

"Eager, amor?" Every word fell that fell from his lips sounded like a dangerous purr.

You nodded, drunk on the way Angel's hand gently squeezed your throat, while the other was teasingly making its way to-and-fro across your wet folds, occasionally making his way up to lightly circle and press his thumb over your clit, making your eyelids flutter. Your hips continued to rock against his hand, silently begging for more, his teasing touch making you more than a little crazy.

"Yeah?" Angel asked, his voice thick and syrupy, the timbre like dark clouds. "That shit turn you on? Sucking my cock?"

His words combined with his touch made another rush of heat flood through you. You were certain you would pass out, that your knees would buckle. And you were doing so well, holding your place up and over his hips while he played with you.

The hand on your throat gripped a little tighter, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

"Nuh-uh, baby," he shook you lightly, all mirth gone from his eyes, no more pleasant, smiling crinkles at the corners. His full lips pressed firmly together. "I asked you a question. You answer that shit"

He pressed two fingers teasingly against your entrance, refusing to insert them, despite the little roll of your hips.

"Y-yeaahh," you sighed, head tossed back, "I-I fucking love it -- love you, Angel."

He rewarded you by sliding a long finger into you, allowing you to ride his hand. The hand still around your throat guiding you forward, over him, allowing him to press hot, open-mouthed kisses, first to your lips, dirty and raw, like an exposed nerve in his unabashed want for you. 

He relinquished his hold on your neck, allowing him to trail his lips and his tongue there, kissing you softly behind your ear, down and around your neck to your collarbones, all while his fingers continued their earnest treatment inside of you, his thumb now pressing to your clit, your warming crescendo building.

Using his height and the fact that you were straddling him, Angel encouraged you to lean forward, allowing him to capture one of your breasts in his grip, his mouth following. His warm tongue swirled around your nipple before he sucked the bud into his mouth, grazing his teeth ever so gently over your sensitive flesh.

Angel's attention was rewarded with your gasping sighs and breathy moans. How anyone could make you feel this good was beyond you. Angel had an uncanny ability to elicit responses and feelings like no other person before him.

You felt the thrumming hum and warm, sticky wave of your orgasm building as Angel worked his fingers inside of you, stroking that particular spot from within that he knew would be your undoing.

"O-oh," you whined, keening noises caught in your throat. "Please, baby, I n-need you. Need you inside." 

The room was sweltering. Or was it just you? Angel withdrew his fingers smoothly, not sparing you the chance to be disappointed at the loss of feeling as he smoothly flipped the two of you, guiding you down to the mattress and hovering over your trembling form. 

"Yeah?" Angel asked. "You ready for that, querida?"

You gazed up at him through your lashes, longingly. He would give everything, anything, that he had in the world if you only looked at him like that forever, gaze full of warmth, heat, and unfiltered, starry adoration. 

"Mmm," you nodded, "Please? Angel?"

He was only a man, after all. Who was he to refuse when you asked so prettily for him?

He gently turned you over so that your back was to him, running his hands down the slope of your back and guiding you to your knees, propping your hips up.

Positioning himself behind you, Angel resumed his grip on your throat, using it to guide your head around so that he could kiss you again while he guided himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss at the sensation, never tired of feeling every ridge of his thick cock sliding into you like he belonged there.

Angel groaned, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, chuckling darkly, his eyes flashing as he swore, 

"Never fuckin' get tired of that shit," he began to move his hips, using his other hand that was gripping your hip to guide you along his lengthy, meeting his thrusts. "Never tired of your pussy … You're so … good."

Angel's words coupled with his thrusts were driving you crazy, causing you to eagerly meet him with the momentum of your own hips, the heat in the room spliced with the distinctive noise of his skin meeting yours. 

Angel, leaning over your back, crowded your every sense, the taste of him, of his kisses still lingering on your tongue. Your ears met with the harmony of your two bodies and the filthy words and sounds coming from Angel's mouth. The sight of him was as intoxicating as ever, as you looked over your shoulder at him, the shadows of the room playing across his tawny skin, glimmering in the low light with the sheen of sweat you knew was also present on yours.

“Say my name,” Angel pants into the slick skin on your back, kissing a line down your spine, his body covering yours possessively.

You were too caught up in everything Angel, failing to respond quickly enough for his liking as you gasped at every thrust.

A crack of heat flashed across your ass, Angel swatting you there once. You should be annoyed, but you couldn't lie -- you fucking loved it when he was like this. Only for you. 

"A-angel," you sighed, the crescendo of your orgasm climbing, threatening to burst any second, you tightening around Angel.

"Bueno," he purred. "You close? Yeah, you fucking are," Angel snarled, taking in the way you threw your hips back desperately to meet him, squirming one hand beneath you to touch yourself. "You can have it, baby, I'll make it good. You just gotta ask pretty for me." 

You deepened the arch in your back, flexing your hips back toward Angel, and gripping the bedspread before you in your fingers, face pressed flush with the sheets, your other hand still pressed to your clit.

Angel tilted your head, leaning over further and gripping your jaw, squeezing to pucker your cheeks. He kissed you, sucking your lower lip between his. He kissed you gently, a deceptive contrast to the hand gripping your face, his hips snapping into yours at a now-brutish pace. He pecked another light kiss to your lips, followed by another, gently biting your lip and dragging it lightly as he drew his face from yours.

He released your lips as you whispered another plea into his mouth.

"Come on then, baby." 

Your orgasm washed over you, pinpricks of striking matches splintering across your skin, followed by a euphoric wave of white-heat, blissfully soothing every nerve it had just lit.

Angel followed, emptying himself into you with a few final thrusts, groaning at the way you tightened just so around him. 

He withdrew gently, collapsing next to you as you both caught your breath. 

Your lashes fanned your cheeks as you blinked hazily at the form of your love through the soft glow of the room.

"I do love you, Angel," you told him, leaning across the sheets to rub your nose back and forth against his, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, grazing your soft fingers against the lines of his forehead, easing them away into an expression of soft serenity. "Always."

---

Now, you walked out of the clubhouse, around to the side of the porch, a quiet corner away from the noise. Willing yourself to calm down as small, hot tears trickled their way, uninvited, down your cheeks. 

Your thoughts were moving a million miles a second, the battle of luck you were waging with the universe saw you quickly losing. 

The year you spent with Angel replaying itself in your mind. Every word, every touch, that goddamn tattoo. Remembrance, my ass. How you would hold him when he came home too high-strung and strung-out emotionally for words. How you would save the best leftovers for him when you knew he had been away and would be craving the Chinese food from the place down the block when he got back. How he felt inside of you on the coldest nights and in the most tender mornings. How he would whisper enchanting endearments into the shell of your ear as he rolled his hips into yours, your mind and body completely his. How you would wear his shirts and overly-large socks around his apartment, leaving doodles and scribbled poems on sticky notes for him to find in his moments alone. How he kissed you warmly, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like syrupy possession that you never wanted to end. 

How it did end. How he had thrown out your world, crumpled it into a crushed paper ball and tossing it away with the carelessness of a child. Ending things with seemingly no spare thought for your feelings. How EZ had let slip when he saw you in town that Angel was expecting a kid, the timing of everything suddenly making a little more sense. How it made you feel, now that you knew you were wholly his, but he was never entirely yours. How you had kept to yourself in the months that followed, the cracks in your heart widening until you felt like you would drown in them. 

The pulse of your feelings for him, always strong; they warm you. But it was still you they all left behind. 

Your thoughts were still swirling when, off to the side, you heard the porch door open and close again, and you prayed that whomever was coming outside was going to have a smoke out front, or that they were on their way out. That they wouldn’t find you. 

But of course, these things never worked out how you wanted them. You cursed any god you could think of for just how un-fucking-lucky you were sometimes. 

Because, really, who other than Angel was making his way around the porch to you? Taking in your hunched form as you leaned over the railing, looking anywhere but at him. 

Of fucking course.

You kept your eyes down, focused in your clasped hands as you leaned over the railing, refusing to look at him. 

And now? Now he was looking at you, and it's the one time you wished he wouldn't. 

One thing you wouldn't do, now that he was here, was break the silence first. He didn't want to hear what you'd had to say, so why would you grace him with your thoughts now? Petty? Sure. But you weren't the one in there with your hands on some ass while a so-called friend harassed your ex. 

A few uncomfortable beats dragged on before Angel broke the silence, shattering it like glass with a verbal hammer.

"What'd he say to you?"

You remained silent.

"What the fuck did he say, Frida?" His voice angry now, demanding. The same tone he used to break your heart. 

"It ain't working. Not my fuckin’ fault you can't see it."

You rolled your eyes, another shard of icy glass painfully wedging into your heart at his use of the name. Still refusing to look in his direction when you replied, softly but sharply, 

"You know exactly what he said. What I'm trying to figure out is why, exactly, you care."

"I care, Frida," was all he offered.

You snorted in response. Undignified, sure. But couldn't he see this was killing you? Where was his mercy?

"I do," he insisted, the thud of his boots across the wood of the porch indicating that he was crossing to you, coming to stand a ways behind you.

"I'm not going to do this with you. He said some shit. It's over. We move on. What more could you have to say about that?"  

Keep it simple, keep yourself safe. You gave him nothing to say back. And then… 

"And if I told you I wanted you? I wanted you back?"

You whipped your head around to -- finally -- meet Angel's eyes, which you did for a fleeting moment before zeroing in once more on your shoes, staring resolutely at the ground. You were not going to let him see you cry again, godfuckingdamnit.

The fleeting glimpse of his face, of his eyes meeting yours once more after all this time, was enough. He looked more tired up close than he had before. Still unfair in his striking beauty, his midnight eyes still enough to pull you in, drown you in their oceanic depths. You hated it. Hated that he still had that power over you. But try as you might, you couldn't hate him. 

Your silence was killing Angel with the precision of a thousand miniscule cuts. Each deeper than the last. Until he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached through the space between, for where your hand rested on the railing. You saw the gesture coming, and whipped your hand away at the last moment, cradling it to your chest like he had burned you. You faced him fully now.

You chuckled softly, wryly, and devoid of any humor before you muttered, "You don't want me, baby. Please don't lie."

“And how do you know that’s a lie?” Angel mumbled thickly, working his tongue around the words, through his own emotion. 

You scuffed your toe into the hewn wood of the deck, shrugging before you responded, simply, 

“If I was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere. And you certainly wouldn't have found someone else. You wouldn’t have said what you said, ended it like you did, with everything on just your terms.” You sighed deeply, with the rattle of tears lodged into your chest before you spoke again, “You made up your mind and never even let me say a word. If you wanted anything to do with me, you could have at least given me a word.” 

Angel blinked, hard. The familiar pressure of real tears building behind his eyes. You were right of course. And fuck, weren't you always? You'd always told him like it was, harsh truths that only you could cushion in your gentle, empathetic way. 

"Please, querida, just let me explain what happened--" 

You held up your hand, shaking your head firmly, effectively silencing Angel.

"No!" Much softer now, "No. I- I'm sorry, Angel, I don't mean to be rude. But, no." Your voice small, but clear, as you'd finally gotten your opportunity to say something back to him. "I, uh, I don't want to hear any explanation, and you really don't have to?"

You lilted the last part like it was a question, but continued on. 

"You, um, you've had a lot of time to tell me something, anything, about what the fuck happened. And you didn't. You left me with nothing. Just confusion and hurt, and I've made peace with that. It's taken a while, but … I just… I don't need that from you. I gave you space, always respected your decisions and opinions, and now you won't do the same. You're still trying to take from me. Offering me an explanation now?" You scoffed. "That isn't for me, and don't fuckin’ act like it is -- it's for you. And I understand that, that's fine. I'm not angry at you for that, but I'm also not going to humor it." 

You exhaled shakily, you couldn't believe you'd said all of that, that you had made it through.

Angel was speechless. It made your heart feel even sicker -- all of this silence from him for so long, and he'd offered to explain himself and you'd (gracefully) told him to fuck off. Why had you done that??

It was about time you'd stood up for yourself, that's why. 

An explanation would be nice, sure. But where Angel's words, whispered affirmations and heady declarations of love, had once made your soul swell and sing… now, you knew, anything he'd had to say to you would only serve to do the opposite. 

And your heart, perpetually bruised by nature of you being a hopeless romantic, just couldn't take it. 

You hopped off the porch, spinning around to face Angel, finding his eyes on you still. Hadn't you wished for him to look at you? To really see you once more? 

"I'm out," you tossed a thumb over your shoulder toward where you'd parked your car. "Sorry, I don't mean to abandon the old post, but uh, I'm sure you guys have someone to fill in. I'll text Aneesa to grab my stuff, don't worry about it." 

Like he would, you thought.

You were mostly rambling to yourself, and not really to Angel, as you backed away, fleeing to your car. 

Angel watched you go, the resonant ache in his chest that had been ever-present since tossing your stuff out, amplified when Luisa had left him, and now sure to be permanent, buried in cement beneath the weight of his every decision, and every word.

You looked good, he thought. Your hair was longer than when he'd seen you last. Your little skirt flouncing as you strode away. Your skin still glowed, full lips still twisted into that wry smile of yours that he had seen from across the room. All of that was true, but your eyes were also tired, and your smile never quite reached them. 

The thought that he was responsible for dimming that sparkle made him feel sicker than he already had. The way you had brushed off Andres, despite his obnoxious insistence, and the things the cocky  new patch had said to you -- may as well add those to the ever-growing pile of things stained and tainted by Angel's guilt.

And he was left alone with that guilt as you left the lot. He turned back to the party. His cool facade slipping back into place. Not ready to face the wrath of EZ and Coco, surely waiting inside to proverbially beat his ass.

What would you say if I come over? And we stand face to face now that we're older?

---

Angel shuffled into his apartment, the late hour catching up to his weary form as he ambled over to his bedside, flicking on the lamp. 

Rubbing a large hand down his face, he sat on his bed in a huff of exhaustion. Your first encounter in months since he'd all-but tossed you from this very room was pricking him with a kind of nauseating nervous  energy. But all he wanted to feel in that moment was you, whether he deserved it or not.

He'd still had it, didn't he? Where was it?

He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing through its contents for what he hoped was still in there.

His fingers curled over his prize -- a slip of paper adorned with your handwriting. Scrawled lines of poetry on a neon pink Post-It note, curled with age and disuse, something you had left for him while he slept in one morning. 

“I was thinking of you,” you had said when he had asked you about it later, shrugging as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. 

Your love for him was clean in its simplicity and forwardness, whenever he could wade his way through the mire of your shy demeanor. You had stuck the Post-It to his nightstand while he was sleeping and you made your way to work. Your words were cramped and crunched into the small paper square, but ready to greet him with the shining light of a sunny new day. 

“I see your ardor through a pearlescent lense, and all is pleasantly pink and blurry with you-- Resplendent in your love's solar hope. You are so warm beneath the brush of my fingertips, and I burn. So in love with you, as I am and as I do."

Now, his eyes scanned the words for the millionth time since you had written them. He had committed it to memory by now, wishing he could hold you instead of this crumpled piece of paper, mocking him with its annoyingly bright pink hue.

But how could he? Angel was the kind of man who simmered in his emotion -- burning slowly, lowly, only to reach a pitch. He kept to himself until he couldn’t any longer -- and then it was all bleeding hearts on a very crisp sleeve. 

He had done what he had thought was right. Cutting you out with all of the brutality and finesse of a battleaxe, to focus on Luisa and his unborn son. He thought she was what he wanted. But now, he didn’t even have them. He had nothing to show for his decisions but the lonely, sick feeling ever-present in his chest. 

The you at the beginning of your relationship would have kissed each bruise in his soul, one by one, until they were better. Would have gifted him with the warmth of your time and attention until he was made whole again with the molten heat of your gracious heart. But the you now? 

Angel could never, would never, cover the tattoo on his arm, though he had thought about it. Blacking it out once and for all, so the piece of you he wore on his sleeve would finally match the  pitch, and emptiness inside. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was, as he’d said all that time ago, your gift to him. And he’d made you a promise that he wouldn’t. 

All he wanted was to look you in the eyes so he could remember that he loved you once.

And not that he had any reason to know it, but across town, you had made it home. Your phone shoved to the bottom of your bag, lighting up with texts from Aneesa, EZ, and Coco. But the only person on your mind was Angel. 

How much of what he had said was true? You weren't sure. But you were sure that you knew where you stood, still painfully alone and in love as ever, the cracks in your heart only fillable by the very person you had brushed off earlier.

And, while Angel readied himself for bed, snapping the lights off and attempting to cut through the oppressive darkness by staring at the ceiling with his own penetrative gaze, the empty side of the bed had never felt more cavernous, but more weighted. Mocking. 

If Angel was being honest with himself -- something he was never too keen on being in his more sobering moments -- he didn't love you once. He still loved you.

Thinking after all this time, I just wanna meet your eyes so I can remember why... Why I loved you once.

Tagging:

@themarcusmoreno @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @steeeeeeeviebb @qveenbvtch @mxsamwilson @ifimayhaveaword @huliabitch @pettyprocrastination @phoenixhalliwell @flightlessangelwings @cinewhore @velvetmel0n @moonlight-prose @rebeccasficrecs @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @aerolanya @djvrins @jenrebloggingfics @ciriswife @justanotherblonde23 @superhoeva @witching-hour​ @luckyharley1903​

[eremiie]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧!;

❥ 17k words | pure fluff | eren x reader

❥ eren’s birthday is in a couple days and what better way to celebrate it by hosting a party with your friends? only, you can’t help but feel a little stressed out and a litte nervous.

❥ authors note; don’t remind me that this is two days late, i know i know, i needed a break, but i hope you enjoy anyways >:)

4 days.

"connie, sasha! can you guys stop messing around for three seconds?"

connie and sasha turned around at the same time, your hand impatiently drummed against the counter as you gave them an irritated stare. your patience was growing thin as you wanted the outcome of this event to be perfect.

eren's birthday was a couple days away.

it wasn't always that you wanted to prepare events, as a matter of fact it stressed you out a little too much to do so. but, this was an event you wanted to take charge of— you wanted it to go perfect with the help of some of your closest friends.

you had met eren only the beginning of your first year in college— this year. it was the classic i need a roommate, so do you, so let's be roommates thing. it made things a little easier on you, bills were easier to pay, school was easier to get to, and eren brought more comfort to you.

he made you more social, introduced you to new friends, and became a role in your life.

sasha crossed her legs from her position on the floor, setting her arms on the table, clasping her fingers while she nodded her head hastily. "okay, i swear i'm listening now."

"sorry." connie murmured with a scratch of his head. he leaned forward on the coffee table, a look that said carry on staring at you as you stared at him.

you sighed, guilt creeping up on you for the harshness of your previous sentence. "...i didn't mean to sound aggressive, i'm sorry, i'm just kind of stressed." you rested your head on the palm of your hand as your eyes trailed over the sloppy notes scribbled on a piece of notebook paper armin tore for you.

the top of the paper was practically glaring at you "eren's birthday party!!!" slapped between the margins in led. you skimmed the notes, some of your friends name with a dash pointed to what they would handle in relation to the party. you gave the paper a grim look, as you almost couldn't read your own writing.

it couldn't go too wrong right? you felt as if eren was somewhat of a picky person but deep down you knew he'd love anything that his friends presented to him because of the sentiment and thought behind it. eren wasn't too difficult, so why were you stressing so much? you have a great group of friends beside you that were even willing to go through with this birthday party. what was bothering you?

"_____," armin's hand slid to your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. he jolt you out of your thoughts, your head turning to the side to look at him.

a warm smile was on his face, blue eyes almost relaxing, almost putting you at ease. he removed his hand from your back and grabbed your hand that was in your lap, giving it a light squeeze. "you know, for one of eren's birthdays when he was a kid i made him a dirt cake and we sat outside and pretended to eat it." you couldn't help but giggle at the thought of a small eren and armin sitting in the grass playing with dirt. "he was happy enough to hang out with me and do that— he was also happy when mikasa embroidered him the letter E on a piece of cloth. he hung it on his backpack, i'm sure it's still back at his mom's house."

armin looked up to mikasa for confirmation and she nodded her head from behind him on the couch. she looked up to the ceiling, reminiscing on the small memory with a small smile as she fiddled with her fingers. "i'm sure eren would enjoy this just as much as a dirt cake."

"and a tiny E embroidery." mikasa added with a chuckle.

you let your hand smooth over the back of your neck and nodded. "yeah... yeah, he'll like it." you weren't sure if you were just saying that to reassure yourself or saying that because you meant it. either way, you picked up the mechanical pencil next to your elbow and began writing again.

"hitch," you repeated as you wrote down her name, your the end of your h flying as you lifted the pencil off of the paper.

hitch looked up at you from her phone. "what's up?"

"you know a lot of people." she looked up for a second tapping her chin, as if she was pondering.

"yeah... if i do say so myself, i'm a little popular." she shrugged her shoulders with a smirk and you rolled your eyes at her, the both of you letting out a small laugh.

"can you get the word out to some people you know eren knows?"

"who does eren know?"

"you know... besides us, maybe like..." you let your mind wander. eren wasn't the most social person but neither were you. in the least he was pretty known around campus, given his temper and his personality, not to mention his looks. he definitely got eyed around campus albeit only talking to a few people. you weren't surprised when someone waved hey to him while he was minding his own.

"i'm just messing, i'll figure out something." a light bulb went off in her brain, her eyes lighting up. "oh! i could even make a cute little digital flier to give them all the info— armin what's your address?" she had somewhat of a creative prowess that you were thankful for. always willing to help you with minor inconveniences whether it be your fashion choices, socializing with others, designing things, and much more.

armin began to tell her, his voice fading out as you looked towards sasha who now had her head laid down on the table, like you only moments ago. "sash," her eyes looked up to you and she picked herself up from the glass surface. "can you handle the cake and snack ideas?" you knew sasha would be the best bet for the food, especially considering she was currently taking a culinary arts program.

her eyes widened a bit, another haste nod of her head that made her hickory ponytail bounce with each up and down motion. "yeah, definitely! i have a friend that is really good at baking too, i could ask him for help on the cake."

you pointed the pencil in your hand towards sasha with a smile. "knew i could count on you, please spare enough for the party though."

she rolled her eyes hand reaching out to push your hand back down to the table. "shush, i was only gonna eat a couple bites of whatever we make— don't act like you've never treated yourself while cooking." you shook your head, looking back down to the paper and writing food and cake next to sasha's name hiding the small grin on your face. "caught!" she exclaimed, pointing at you with a snap of her fingers. "red handed!"

"oh, shush." you whipped your head behind you to look at jean who was sitting in between mikasa and hitch. "jean," and then to connie, next to sasha, his eyes low and his face straight— a clear look of boredom. "connie?"

the two boys answered with a small "hm?"

"can the three of us go for decorations like on..." you tapped the pencil in your hand to your chin. if eren's birthday was on the thirtieth, and you would be decorating on the twenty-ninth, you'd wanna get the decorations a little early on— better safe than sorry anyways. "twenty seventh or twenty eight?"

"decorations? this is gonna be fun." connie came more alive at the sound of decorations. with a  snicker, he rubbed his hands together like a classic villain in an old cliché movie.

"you guys are just coming with i'm not leaving y'all in charge of them. you'd fuck eren over."

"yeah? like how you wanna fu—" your hand slapped over connie's mouth faster than you could blink, connie's eyes going wide at the abrupt action and yours at the words that were beginning to spill over his lips. yes, you loved your friends but more often than not you couldn't stand them. sometimes you wondered if eren could've chose a better group of people to introduce you to. (in reality? you wouldn't trade them for the world.)

"no!" your response came out louder than you intended, the lot of your friends laughing. "can you not?" you turned back towards your paper, jotting down decorations beside jean and connie's names, your nose almost touching the white sheet with how close you were to it. the tingle of blood was flooding your cheeks and you took it upon yourself to take your time writing the date as well. "decorations, twenty eight."

"yes ma'am." jean replied clearing his throat with a small smirk on his face, glancing to connie before back to you. you sighed and rubbed your forehead.

"yes ma'am." connie repeated, small stifled chuckles trying to leave his quivering lips. you glared at him, and he tried not to smile, clearly dismissing how you were trying to kill him with a look.

armin spoke up, tapping your shoulder. "once you get the decorations stop by here, me and mikasa can help put them up the day of the party. you can come help too— make sure everything looks nice."

your attention was stolen, once again armin being the one who held it. "okay," decorating was already written next to mikasa and armin's names, but you marked the thirtieth next to it as well. "sasha, let's get the cake on the twenty-ninth so that it's closest to fresh as possible. i can come with right?"

"yeah, of course. i can pick you up that morning if you want me to."

that was perfect, you were practically beaming at the way everything was falling in place— everything felt as if it was falling in place, yes, but still your stomach flipped and your brain couldn't help but flood with the idea that something could go wrong.

you pushed the thoughts to the back of your brain and began to fold the paper in front of you neatly. "hitch, can i come over tomorrow? we can work on the digital fliers and figure out who to invite."

"sure, yeah, that's fine with me."

you pocketed the piece of paper and rose to your feet, pulling out your phone to check the time. you had been at armin and mikasa's place for four hours with your friends, and you had only been planning for a little bit— getting distracted was a hobby at this point. or maybe you were distracting yourself just because of the worry that the planning wouldn't go right.

"i'm gonna go," you stepped around the couch gingerly, avoiding the feet of your friends. "thank you guys."

armin followed your steps, standing up to trail after you. "i'll walk you to the door, the rest of them should be leaving soon too." he turned to the remainder, blonde brow rising over his eye. it wasn't a suggestion, you knew he'd be ushering them out the door soon enough.

"thank you, armin." not only thank you for a measly walk out the door, but a thanks to him helping you, keeping you at somewhat ease for the party. he was always so good to you— from helping you study when you needed it, talking to eren when he was upset with you. armin was always a shoulder to rely on, and you wouldn't have met him if it wasn't for eren. "thank you." you repeated under your breath as he opened the door for you.

the change in temperature as you stepped out the door felt better than it should have, the breeze hugged you tight, and you brought your hand to your chest as you stepped down the steps of armin's apartment.

you had a good set of friends on your shoulder, and a good plan in mind that you knew they'd help you with every step of the way. you breathed out through your nose and closed your eyes before turning back to the blonde, two calm oceans watching you with solicitude. "bye, armin." and another one of his warm smiles was thrown back to you as he waved and closed the door behind you.

when you returned to your apartment eren was asleep on the couch.

you moved as quietly as possible, shutting the door as quiet as you could muster. you slipped off your shoes and tiptoed over to the couch, every creak of the floor board felt like it could be heard no matter how quiet you thought you were being. although, when you peered down at eren's sleeping figure sprawled on the couch his eyes were still shut, he was still taken over by sleep.

even in his sleepy state his brows were still knit together, a small pout on his face as you listened to his slow breathing. his arm was supporting his head, the other one draped across his stomach and his hair wasn't in it's usual ponytail, hair messy and strewn about around his head and you almost wanted to let out a laugh at how cute he looked.

even though a bed probably would've been more comfortable, you didn't want to wake him. he looked pretty calm from where he was rested on the couch, eyes fluttering while they were still shut and lip twitching every now and then.

if you didn't know any better you would've bent down to place a kiss on his forehead, maybe the tip of his nose. or maybe you would've shook him awake and asked him to sleep beside you tonight. but you knew better and both of those options quickly dissolved from your mind before you could truly consider them.

instead, you took your time studying his pretty features until you felt like you studied long enough, almost surprised he didn't wake up, wondering why he felt like he was being watched. you spun on your heel and quietly creeped your way to your room, letting out a unsteady breath once you closed the door.

your back stayed pressed against the door as you looked at your feet. the chirp of an owl was almost too present, and if it wasn't for your thoughts you were sure you could've heard the television from your upstairs neighbor. you shook your head and face planted into your pillow, the bed bouncing up and down with the addition of your weight.

were you really worried about the birthday party? is that what was stressing you out?

the more you thought about it, the more it felt like a stupid party wasn't the sole root of your problems.

3 days.

you didn't even hear the sound of eren approaching you, too entranced with what was on your computer screen. when the rough pad of his finger tapped your shoulder you almost jumped out of your skin, your own finger moving quickly to switch tabs, your vision a blur and you not sure what you clicked before your head shot to face him. "eren!"

he put his hands up in mock surrender, glancing between you and your computer screen, intrigue in his green eyes. "what were you looking at?" of course that was the first thing he asked, that was just your luck.

you tapped your hands against the sides of your laptop, letting your gaze dart around the living room while eren waited a response that you were whipping up in your head. "a watch i'm gonna buy... for me."

"can i see it?" you almost rolled your eyes at how inconvenient that question was. your hand went to your mousepad, scrolling over to exit out of the tab, before looking back at eren. he narrowed his eyes as he literally watched you close out the tab in front of his face.

"no." your response was awkward— scratch that, the whole moment was awkward. "uh, what's up?" you shut your laptop as eren rounded the couch to come sit next to you. the weight of his body shifted you a bit, and his presence so close to you made you tense up slightly. his arm swinging over the back of the couch didn't help you either.

"didn't see you at all yesterday. when i woke up i checked your room and you were sleep." he checked on you? your heart practically skipped a beat at the simple sentence. you saw him almost everyday and have lived with him for almost a year now— why did he rack your nerves so much?

"yeah... i knocked out when i got home, but you were sleep when i got back anyways."

"where were you for so long?" genuine curiosity was present in his voice. "i was pretty bored here by myself, you know." his head tilted back to rest against the couch, his eyes still looking down at you as he let out an exaggerated breath.

you gave eren an uneven smile and crossed your arms. "with armin," you almost did a double take when eren's smile dropped.

"you left me to go to armin's house?"

"...i didn't think you wanted to come!" your voice came off defensive, and you quickly lowered it the nearer your sentence came to an end.

eren squinted his eyes at you, if looks could talk his would be calling you an idiot. he brought his head off the couch and leaned forward. any closer and he would be able to hear your heart thrumming in your chest. "you didn't think i wanted to come to armin and mikasa's house... you know, my childhood friends?"

when eren repeated your words back to you they did sound pretty dumb. you frowned, not sure if you were frowning at the boy in front of you or the stupidity of your sentence. your words tangled in your throat as they tried to form, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. eren leaned back, and you felt yourself gain control again, your heart quieting. "it was a last minute thing, i had to go to grab some notes from him and we got carried away."

"you and armin don—"

"mikasa! grab some notes from mikasa. calculus... calculus notes."

almost on cue, your phone buzzed from between the couch cushion beside you and your hand fumbled to find it, pulling it up once your phone was in between your fingers. you turned your phone up right, the blue light shining on your face as you read the small segment of the message hitch sent you. your finger swiped and your thumb unlocked your phone as you read the remainder of the text.

march 27th, 2:53pm

⤷ finished studying. you can be on your way!!!

⤷ i'll be omw in like 10

you looked back up to eren, his eyes already rested on your face. when you stood up from the couch, he still watched you as you maneuvered around the small space of the apartment clumsily. "i'm gonna be on my way to hitch's." you told him, grabbing your keys from the kitchen table and slipping on your crocs that were under it.

"you didn't have enough fun with armin yesterday?" when your head turned to look at him, his was giving you a bored stare, head hanging backwards over the couch, the flyaways around his face pointing towards the ground.

you stiffened at his statement, but nevertheless continued to move, your jacket coming over your arms and your phone slipping into the pocket of your sweats. "grabbing notes isn't fun, i won't be at hitch's for long either. you'll probably be home when i get back."

he pushed off the couch, taking long strides towards you with his hands buried in his own pockets. when he was but a few feet away, he stopped, and your eyes washed over his body. black t-shirt clinging to his skin and the band of his boxers playing peek-a-boo from where they sat a little above his sweatpants. when you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up the door was being held open for you, eren trying to suppress his small smile. "nope, probably gonna go hang out with someone."

"who?"

"you don't know her."

"oh..." you tucked your lip in between your teeth and opened the door wider for yourself. "okay, see you." and when the door shut behind you it somewhat startled you, and the walk to your car felt a little longer than usual.

the drive to campus felt a little longer than usual too.

when you did arrive the walk to her dorm was like expected, you made your way through the hallways, up the steps until you were standing in front of her dorm. your hand rapped her door a few times, a "hold on!" being yelled out to you once you stopped.

typical, the sound of rustling was coming from the other side and you heard her footsteps come closer until the door swung open. "here, here." she huffed out, opening up the door more so you could slip past her and into her room.

right off the bat you knew which side was hers— not that it wasn't your first time, just that she made it painfully obvious.

her clothes were scattered across the floor, and it was almost as if an invisible line was dividing her and her roommates side. a stack of papers and books on top of her desk, light from the lamp behind it struggling to shine through the stack. the other side of the desk looking pristine and neat— if you swiped your finger over top there wouldn't be a trace of dust. posters adorned above her bed as well as a small tapestry. "i see you tried to clean up before i got here."

"something like that," she waved you off, shutting the door behind her and rushing over to her bed to throw a couple pillows down then hopping up on it, patting the space beside her. "you know, i got some of the information down for the flier, i made it look pretty and shit last night i just need you to tell me a few more things."

you slipped off your shoes and hopped onto her bed as well, scooting back and pulling your knees to your chest as she scrolled through her phone.

"look," the device was shoved in your face, making you blink a few times as you waited for the screen to steady, a sage green flier with many small words looking back at you.

your hand wrapped around the phone, and hitch let go to watch your face. "you like?"

"happy birthday eren!" was big and bold dark green lettering, the title for the flier, while an old picture of eren sat to the side that made you let out a snort. beside it was the date and time for the event, as well as armin's address spanning across the middle of the flier from one end of it to the other. your eyes went back to the photo, but before you could get a good look at it hitch abruptly grabbed the phone back. "you don't like it?" a frown was on her face, and she inspected the image on her phone. "different color? is that what it is?"

you pursed your lips and leaned back against her wall. "i didn't say that— and the color is fine..." you stared at your knees as you remembered one of the first times you went into eren's room while he was sick. a tattered dark green cover was draped over his body and when you had pushed him about the condition of the cover— frayed ends and a few small holes here and there, he had told you it was an old gift from his mom and that he liked the color.

"hey," when you looked back up to hitch she wasn't to your side anymore, instead seated criss cross in front of you, hands in her lap and her phone discarded to her side. "what's up?"

you gave her a questioning glance before fiddling with your fingers that were propped up on your knees. there was nothing up with you— could you not do a little thinking? "nothing?"

"girl, please," she looked to her phone, it isolated on top of her sheets the green flier being the centerpiece of the screen. her fingers went to press the power button until the device went black, and your eyes couldn't be on it anymore, forced to give your attention to hitch. "is it about eren? you seemed to really like the picture of him on my phone, even though i stole that from our high school yearbook. he looks off with short hair doesn't he?"

come on— you couldn't possibly get any more predictable than this. "i was just thinking about his favorite color." which wasn't a lie, you were, your thinking just happened to go deeper than just his favorite color.

"you cannot lie to save your life..." hitch threw her head back as she began to laugh at you, her short hair bobbing on her shoulders as her hand came up to cover her mouth while her laughs died down. "favorite color my ass. what is up for real?" hitch knew you liked eren, they practically all did... except for eren himself.

your head fell into the space created between your knees and chest, and you groaned. "i don't even know myself. he just, he just—" a sound of frustration left your mouth, but was muffled by your legs. "i want this to go well for him." you picked your head up, but you weren't satisfied with your answer. by the way hitch looked at you, you could tell she wasn't either.

"keep going, i'm still listening." hitch's head nodded slowly, a reassuring nod— telling you it was okay to keep speaking, her ears were open to hear you out.

"i want this party to go well for him, of course i do; but after today i feel so dumb for putting so much time into it. maybe i'm overthinking it but i told eren i hung out with armin and he told me he was going to hang out with some girl i didn't know, and it just... i guess rubbed me wrong— so now i feel like i'm putting all my time into this for him and it'll kind of just mean nothing, all my time into planning this party that i feel like is stupid. i feel stupid."

it was like a dam broke, your words had flooded out, and you had said more than you wanted to, yet it still wasn't enough. hitch was satisfied— but you? you were not.

she grabbed some of your hair, pulling your head up by it. surprise danced across her features, surprised to see you weren't weeping, albeit your voice sounding shaky when you spoke. "i haven't seen eren pull anybody ever since we were in high school together, i doubt he all of a sudden has a girl or whatever." she gave you a half smile, hands coming up to grab yours, and your legs slid down into a criss cross position as well.

"plus the party isn't stupid and you're not stupid. it's not about how you feel about eren, it's about giving him and us a good time for his birthday. did you forget that it's for his birthday? shit, if you don't wanna plan it, i will— admissions gonna equal a bottle of booze." her chuckle was contagious and your lips couldn't help but upturn as you let one out too.

"listen, whenever i have a crush on someone i just go for it, you know? just tell him. maybe he was just trying to get you jealous or something." she shrugged her shoulders, while she played with your hands that were enveloped in hers.

"we live together, i don't wanna make it weird."

'it'll only be weird if he says no."

"which is a big possibility."

hitch glanced off to the side before letting her eyes settle on you again, her lips shifting as she looked for what to say. "um... but he could say yes too. you won't know if you don't ask. if you're not willing to move forward and take the risk you don't like him that much. if he says no eventually the two of you will go back to normal anyways." you did like him that much, you were just an anxious mess. especially when he was around; which was quite ironic considering you spent most of your time around him.

you let hitch's words sink into your flesh as you stared at her thumb smoothing over the soft skin of your hand. she wasn't totally wrong, you wouldn't know unless you asked, and nothing would really happen until you asked either.

"do what you will with that information." hitch cleared her throat, letting go of your hands and shuffling to sit beside you, grabbing her phone on the way, then turning around to sit her back against the wall as well. a thick silence fell over the two of you, and if it wasn't for how close both of you were it would've been awkward— for you, it was you and your thoughts talking, but for hitch?

"so... who are we inviting again?"

2 days.

"what do you think of these?" you flipped over the packet of balloons examining the details scribbled on the back, waiting for a response— but to no avail. you didn't receive one.

you turned around, expecting to see a nest of ash brown hair hovering over you as well as doe hazel eyes, but jean and connie were nowhere to be found. a groan of annoyance left your lips and you slipped the packet of balloons into the shopping basket that was hooked around your arm. "i guess these will do."

today felt slow, no progress felt like it was made albeit you running around a family dollar looking for simple birthday decorations, while your friends ran around looking for only God knows what.

you weren't sure if it was because this task was somewhat easy, or maybe because in a couple hours you'd be returning to your shared apartment with eren, continuing to sneak around as if you weren't planning an event. continuing to have to ignore his questions when you'd come in a little later than you usually do, because if you had said you were hanging out with one of your mutual friends he'd look at you funny— ask why you didn't take him with you.

he wasn't wrong, his friends were his friends before they were yours; he is the one who introduced you to them, you all of a sudden devising your own plans with them and seemingly having the time of your lives while he sat back at home of course rubbed him weird.

he didn't question you too much though.

he knew his birthday was coming up— he might be dense but he wasn't completely stupid. although he had no direct hint to you planning anything for him, his friends planning anything for him, the lack of mention of his birthday being soon was almost alarming. he hoped your running around without him had at least a little to do with his birthday.

and for that you thanked him, because besides your little crush on him, the whole mess surrounding his birthday made your stomach churn, having to keep something from him for so long racked your nerves and made it even harder to be around him just in case something accidentally slipped.

you dragged your feet to the isle next to you, peering down it to see the two boys you were looking for, jean and connie. you noticed them before they noticed you, connie's hands grabbing at something and throwing it in the basket in jean's hands. "guys," you said loud enough for them to hear, both of their heads whipping to look to you.

both of them slowly made their way towards you until you met in the middle of the aisle, your arm crossed and your lips pursed. "looking for decorations was fun by myself." your tone was sarcastic, and connie caught on nose scrunching at your comment, his hand coming out to pat your shoulder.

"listen, listen— i was getting eren's birthday present!" he replied, giving you a crooked smile.

your eyes darted between connie, jean and the small basket in his hands, dumbfounded. were you missing something? you didn't see a "birthday present" anywhere. you glanced back up to connie, confusion littered on your face. "where?"

connie's smile dropped, quickly turning into a frown and jean let out a short chuckle, connie glaring at him. he pointed towards the basket, then grabbing it and tilting it towards you. "snacks, and candy and shit. who doesn't like snacks?"

you looked into the basket, and inside was an arrangement of snacks— none that you could remember eren eating, maybe besides the flimsy bag of potato chips and sour gummy worms. "it's the thought that counts." you mumbled mostly to yourself, but both the boys in front of you heard, connie rolling his eyes and letting go of the basket.

it was ironic, because if it was just the thought that counted to you maybe you wouldn't be stressing so much over the party you were in the midst of planning. you wish you could take your own advice, and maybe be like connie and do something simple for eren without beating yourself up too much.

"shut up— we need to get a bag for it." connie mutters, but you knew he wasn't genuinely upset, he could care less what you thought of his present. if it was something he enjoyed it was most likely eren would enjoy it too. at least that's what he told himself.

"we need to get everything else for the party too— you guys left me when i was looking for balloons." your hands flew out from your sides, clearly exasperated with their lack of care for stranding in you in the isle over without a word.

"we didn't leave you, we just went an aisle over to get his gift."

"so you left me?" connie's eyes slide over to jean, who walked past the two of you, clearly trying to leave the store as soon as possible, or maybe dissociate himself from the small ruckus you were creating in the middle of the store.

"technically, no..." he murmured, walking past you as well, and you brought your hand to your forehead before speeding up your pace to catch up to jean, walking beside him instead of behind with connie.

the three of you walked in silence until you reached the decorations aisle, fingers brushing over the arrangement of decor, but you were mainly focused on the miscellaneous decorations, party streamers, tissues, table covers, and much more you couldn't name.

"jean?" he looked down at you, standing next to your figure who was crouched on the floor to be head on with the decorations seated on the small bottom shelf.

"what's up?"

you picked up two packs of table covers, in each of your hands, standing up and examining both packages, the only difference being the colors. "which one?"

jean took the white pack from your hands, turning it over then grabbing the dark green pack from your hands and looking it over as well. "they're both nice to me." he shrugged. he didn't see why the color of the table covers, or any decoration mattered so much. like you he knew eren wasn't too picky, yet you still continued to try to perfect every aspect of this party.

"well, which one do you think eren would like?"

jean furrowed his eyebrows at you, dropping both packages into the basket in your hands opposed to his— although he was helping with the party he wouldn't be paying for anything he didn't need to. "eren wouldn't care, _____."

you sighed, eyes drifting down to the new contents of your basket. "yeah, but—"

"just get both, and decide when we go there, he'll like either."

you fiddled with your hands, nodding your head and walking past jean to the party streamers— you didn't ask for his opinion, reckoning you'd get the same answer, so you slipped both the white streamer paper and dark green into your basket, making your way towards connie who was plucking a small paper bag from the rack.

"i'm gonna put it in this bag." connie said as soon as you had stopped in front of him, shoving the bag in your face, your hands coming up to lower it so you could see it more clearly. it was nice, a small blue bag with "happy birthday" sprawled on the front, in sparkly letters, and you smiled at connie who pulled it away from you.

"that's nice, i should get a bag too for his present shouldn't i?"

"well you're not putting it in a box are you?" you shook your head, it'd be better to put it in a little birthday bag then having to spend time wrapping it, so you stood in connie's place who moved aside to let you take a look at the arrangement of bags.

there were so many, but a pretty white one caught your eye, it was simple, happy birthday written in small text on the front in black, a period ending the short statement. the paper bag had two black ribbon handles that were rough to the touch when you had pulled it off its rack. "this is nice too, right?"

connie looked to the bag in your hand, nodding his head. of course he'd think it's nice, he wasn't like you— it made no difference from the bag in his hand. they were both made out of paper and both could complete the same job. you wished to have that mindset. "yeah, what did you get eren for his birthday?"

your eyes widened slightly, you were somewhat surprised he asked— or maybe surprised that he was the first to ask. you took pride in the gift you had bought him when others asked or when you had explained what it was to mikasa, but when it came to eren you were a little nervous to know if he'd like it or not. "just this custom watch, i thought it would be thoughtful."

jean came up behind connie, connie placing his bag into jean's basket. "yeah, i think he'd like it, i mean— i don't wear watches but i'd wear it once or twice."

you narrowed your eyes, scoffing at connie. "well good thing the watch isn't for you, let's go." connie shrugged his shoulders, and you went to grab paper plates and cups, even party hats just for the gag of it, soon enough making your way to the check out and buying all the supplies. your total was higher than you expected, and you blamed your indecisiveness, yet you would still buy whatever was needed for the party at hand.

the three of you loaded into jean's car, you placing the bags beside you and your phone buzzing. you pulled it out of your pocket to check the notification, a message from eren. you swiped left, having to swipe a couple times because of how fast you attempted to open the message. it was rare he texted you when you were out, especially when he knew you were out.

march 28th, 4:47pm

⤷ [attachment 1 image]

⤷  your package? where do you want me to leave it?

you knew right off the bat what it was, the watch you had just told connie about. when you had last checked the shipping date it wasn't scheduled to come today— it was one day early.

march 28th, 4:48pm

⤷ put it in my room, thanks

⤷ okay

you had dropped your phone into your lap, looking out to the window but it buzzed again, and you scrambled to pick it up once more.

march 28th, 4:53pm

⤷ wya?

⤷ in the car, i'll be home soon.

"can you guys take me home first, actually? we can take the stuff to armin's house the day before eren's party." you leaned forward so jean who was driving, could hear you, his head turning slightly as he listened.

"why?" your phone buzzed again, and just like that you forgot about the conversation at hand, diving to pick up your phone, eager to see what eren had sent now.

march 28th, 4:55pm

⤷ your car is here

⤷ oh, you're with who?

⤷ jean and connie

"i just want to go home for now, it'd be easier if we just brought everything over there when we go decorate." and even though jean disagreed, he began the route to your place instead, deciding not push any further.

although your phone didn't alert you that you got another notification, you went to go check anyways, grasping the device in your hand as you went back to you and eren's messages.

read, 4:55pm

you didn't even realize the small frown that was painted on your face, you placing your phone back into the pocket of your jacket, settling down into the seat you were sat on.

"yeah, take me home first."

1 day.

"how's this?" sasha tilted the bowl of frosting towards you, and you took a glance, the frosting a pretty shade of green, much like the flier hitch showed you two days before.

you nodded your head, "yeah, that color works.", and your friend smiled, spinning on her foot to place down the bowl of frosting beside the one of icing. she seemed more excited then you about the making of the cake. not to say you weren't excited, but it was more accurate to say you were highly strung about how it would turn out— more than you should have been.

"nico, grab the cake, i think it's chilled long enough." she dipped her finger into the bowl of frosting, putting it up to her lips and humming at the taste. "oh, yeah, that's good. eren better like this!" and you hoped he would too.

you tsked, grabbing the bowl and moving it over so niccollo could place the cake on the counter next to it. "what design are you thinking?" he asked, arm draping over sasha's shoulder as the two of them stood in front of you. although they didn't date you couldn't help but find them cute. you wondered if sasha or niccollo were in the same dilemma as you— only it seemed that their feelings were reciprocated opposed to you and eren.

you pondered for a second, recalling what you had thought up a couple nights ago. it was simple, "pipe the edges with one of those swirly tips, with the white icing, and.. write happy birthday in the middle. small letters." the small letters were somewhat of an improvisation, it reminded you of the small letters on the front of the gift bag you had got for eren.

as you spoke, sasha moved to grab the pipe tips and piping bags, as well as a spatula, placing the utensils down onto the surface next to the frosting. "i can see that in my head— it's gonna be so good, it's gonna look so good." she glanced up at niccollo, and he was already looking at her, a small smile on his face. "can i frost?"

"...you can frost with the green, i'll do the white; the piping and the words."

sasha beamed, clearly happy with whatever she could get, and she grabbed the spatula, scooping up some frosting and beginning to spread it across the cake. she smoothed the thick coat over the swirl cake, trying her best to cover the top, and you could already envision what it would look like in your head, and it wasn't bad. sasha wouldn't dare for it to look bad with how ecstatic she was to be making it, and you were sure niccollo wouldn't either.

it was mainly your idea, and niccollo and sasha would bring it to life. you would hope eren would like it as much as how much you liked the image of it in your head. "so what did you guys buy for snacks?"

niccollo made his way over to the sink, washing his hands before flinging them so water droplets flew in the sink. "well we bought the basic stuff, chips for the guac, candy for the bowls, and some drinks, plus beer at your friend hitch's request."

you laughed, hitch wouldn't be the only one enjoying it, the lot of you guys liked to drink. you knew eren would be appreciative at the gesture. "it probably wasn't just hitch who wanted it." you watched the blonde dry his hands, leaning against the sink counter. "so you're gonna make the guac, the guac for the chips?"

he nodded his head. "oh, yeah of course. i just can't make it today, i'll make it at... armin, armin's house?" his response was a question, and you nodded as well, letting him know he was thinking of the right person. "yeah, sash will get the stuff and i'll make it that day so it can be fresh."

"okay, that's good. are you gonna come to the party too?" you didn't know him personally, only having met him through sasha who you didn't know how she met him. she had seemed to have taken a liking to him, and you just followed through. after all like you said, they were cute, you wouldn't be surprised when sasha would break the news to you.

"no, i have work that day... i'll be there beforehand to help sasha and you, and everyone set up, if it helps."

"no, yeah— it'd be a lot of help." you gave him a small smile, sliding over more towards sasha to check on the cake. "so, out of curiosity; how did the two of you meet?"

sasha grinned at the question, grabbing some more frosting with the spatula and slapping it onto the side of the cake. she didn't give niccollo time to answer, mouth opening to do so for him. "culinary class! he's so fucking good at cooking, like how?" she tilted her head back to direct the grin on her face at him, and he gave her one back.

"yeah, sasha's not too bad herself either. how did you and sasha meet?" his words sounded like an understatement and you chuckled.

but you and sasha meeting? it wasn't much of a story to tell. "oh, just through eren at the beginning of last semester."

"eren? the birthday boy?"

"yeah, birthday boy... he introduced me to all of them really, nothing special." you shifted on your feet, hands coming together so you could play with your nails, looking down at your hands.

"tell me about you and birthday boy— how did the two of you meet?" you didn't know someone could ask so many questions, but it wasn't like you didn't ignite the conversation to save from the silence.

sasha's shoulders bounced as she laughed softly, and although you couldn't see her, her still smoothing away at the almost completely green cake, you glared at her.

"he's my roommate. i needed one and he needed one, and you know how that goes."

niccollo raised a brow. he clearly caught onto the way you tried to brush the topic off too fast, but so did sasha despite her being occupied. wasn't he majoring in culinary arts? not psychology— there was no reason for him to read you that fast. "and how does that go, _____?" sasha titters and you could tell she was smiling from the tone of her voice.

"fine." you were blunt, your voice montone apart from the small falter at the end of your sentence. "it's cool, having a roommate, he's nice and fun to have around."

sasha's expression mimicked niccollo's, her arms crossing and her brow going up before she walked over to the sink and began to wash the spatula, the water somewhat saving you from the awkward silence, the same one you had tried to stop earlier. sasha broke it though, and in the worst way she could.

"she likes him."

your hand slapped your forehead, and you let out an exasperated groan, both sasha and niccollo laughing at you, but sasha must've felt somewhat bad, a pout on her face as she came over to pull you into a tight hug. "sorry, but you weren't gonna say it and it's kind of obvious."

"well you didn't have to say it out loud." you didn't hug her back, one hand sliding down your face, and the other hanging at your side.

"well how else would nico know?"

"he doesn't."

nicollo took over sasha's place at the counter, not phased by your reluctance to tell him. he tidied up her small mistakes when she was frosting the cake. "sash, can you fill the piping bags?" sasha pranced over to the piping bags after letting go of you and her hands grabbed them, placing the tip on the bags and then rummaging the drawer for a spare spatula, using it to scoop up some of the the white icing and stuff it into the utensil. "so you like him?"

you sighed. she didn't have to repeat it, but still you nodded your head, and then realizing he couldn't see you. "...yeah."

"she won't tell him though." sasha added, dipping another finger into the icing and sucking it off her finger once more. did she have to reveal everything? "i don't see why, if it was me i'd just tell him, what's the worst that could happen."

your eyes glanced between sasha and niccollo.

that was ironic.

"just tell him, who knows, he could like you back." the conversation sounded too familiar, and you rolled your eyes, why did everyone think this was such an easy feat? niccollo leaned towards the cake, icing squeezing out of the pipe creating an intricate swirl that was being detailed around the circumference of the cake.

you folded your arms against the counter you were leaning against, and let out a huff of breath. "it's not that easy. we're roommates, things will be awkward." and you felt like you were repeating yourself— is this what people called deja vu?

"i think eren might like her back." sasha moved the bowl of white icing onto the other side of niccollo and hopped onto the counter beside him, placing the other bowl in her lap, fingers tapping against the sides.

"why?" you were curious, you didn't think anything hinted that he could like you, especially not with the encounter you had with him when you were leaving for hitch's.

"i don't know," she shrugged. "when you guys first moved in together he would always talk about his," she mimicked his voice, "new roommate."

you blinked, then blinked again, arms unfolding and you picking yourself up from the surface you were leaning against. eren talking about you? you wanted to hear more. "that's it?"

another shrug, and another scoop of frosting. "i mean, he talks about you in general too."

"what does he say?"

sasha squinted at you, shaking her head. "i said in general," and her hands went up into quotations, "me and ______ are going to do this, last night me and ______ did this, shit like that."

your stomach twisted, and your legs felt a little wobbly. you cleared your throat, and you wanted to speak but you were a little bit in... shock? but niccollo spoke instead, "i finished."

sasha made a small noise of joy, hopping off the counter she was seated on and pushing over the bowl of frosting, peeking around niccollo to see the cake.

you padded over, standing next to sasha to see the cake as well; and it was pretty.

swirls danced across the edge of the cake, the white contrasting the soft green that was painted over the it and smoothed over almost perfectly. in simple bold letters, "happy birthday, eren." detailed the center, a small heart added to the end.

"it's nice... i really like it, yeah, this is what it looked like in my head." and you weren't lying, it almost was like a carbon copy of what you envisioned, and you were almost surprised at how well niccollo and sasha pulled it off, not that you should be, you did ask for help of two culinary art students. "thank you, thanks so much."

your face was lit up, and sasha and niccollo gleamed smiles at you, delighted that you were happy. being able to make you happy seemed to be enough for them. "glad you like it," he said, and you pulled out your phone to snap a quick picture, pressing the device to your chest. "i added the heart for you."

your eyes rolled back but you couldn't help but chuckle, another "thank you" leaving your lips and your eyes not leaving the cake, even when he went to put it in the refrigerator. once the cake wasn't in your line of sight anymore, that nervous feeling returned out of nowhere, for no reason, and your hands felt sweaty, phone almost slipping from where it was pressed between your chest and hand.

sasha caught on, grabbing your other hand and letting her fingers fall between yours, hands clasped together, and she was radiating solace, sucking up your worries and dispelling them for you.

"he'll like it."

"you sure?"

"of course! i'm sure."

happy birthday, eren.

it wasn't a normal occurrence for you to cook eren breakfast— as a matter of fact you couldn't recall ever cooking breakfast for him.

making dinner? yeah! there were plenty of times the two of you twirled around the kitchen, bodies bumping and fits of giggles bouncing around the small space, while you muttered "sorry!" to each other every now and then.

for now, it was just you.

eren hadn't woken up yet, and so to do him a birthday favor you decided to make him a birthday meal.

you flipped the pancakes cooking on the stove, sauntering over to the fridge and pulling out the package of bacon and plopping in onto the top of the counter. you felt like you had been in the kitchen at least every day now, and you couldn't remember the last time you had actually sat down to participate in one of your hobbies, or to relax. you sure were taking this upcoming event seriously, and you were glad your friend were too.

your fingers tapped against the steel of the fridge handle as your eyes skimmed the contents of the refrigerator; you felt like it wasn't enough, there was nothing special to you about some flimsy pancakes and bacon, so you grasped the carton of eggs and closed one of the fridge doors, leaning towards the side to plop them next to the bacon.

when you turned back around to close the other door, there eren stood, you practically jolting out your skin. "jesus!" you all but screamed, your hand flying to your chest and you stumbling backwards at his abrupt appearance. "eren!"

he chuckled, closing the fridge door for you and stepping forward to stand in its place. "g'morning." his voice was still groggy with sleep, and he still looked sleepy— his eyes still swollen from it, hair messily framing his face. his hair tie must've fell out while he tossed and turned.

your hand fell from your chest and dropped down to your side, tugging your shirt lower and fumbling with the fabric while your eyes glanced around the small kitchen. "morning."

"just morning? aren't you forgetting something?" you gave him a crooked smile, and he stepped forward until his hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your frame against his until you were engaged in a hug, minus the fact that your arms were still awkwardly against your sides.

your body began heating up and you felt like you lost control of yourself for a minute, hands taking a bit too long to wrap around eren as well. it was nice, he felt warm, and he brang a sense of comfort, so you relaxed against him a little more. heck, you didn't need time to sit down and relax or do a hobby when you had eren. he was enough to give you a break, just being around him was enough.

"happy birthday." your voice was merely above a whisper, but he heard it— a hum that could be heard through his chest, where your head laid.

"thank you," he said audibly, pulling you away, and you wished the hug could last for a little longer, hesitantly pulling back too and letting your hands smooth over the sudden goosebumps on your arms from the air of the room. "your pancake."

you quirked a brow at him, until your eyes followed his finger, the pancake on the stove that had been there longer than it should have, and you scrambled over in realization, eyes going wide as you fumbled for the spatula, slipping it under the pancake and flipping it over to check the underside. it wasn't burnt— the underside was just a little browner than it should have been. your free hand brought the plate next to the stove closer and slipped the pancake off the pan onto the plate.

"what woke you up?" you asked, as your hands went to grab the bacon and an extra bowl, turning down the heat of the stove and moving to strip the bacon from its packet, setting them down on the pan.

"the smell of your cooking." he smiled, arms crossed from where he leaned against the fridge. he slinked over, until he was behind you, peering down as you placed the last strip of bacon on the steel pan. "who's the breakfast for? me?"

you let out a small laugh, cracking two eggs in a bowl and eren followed along as you moved to the counter, then to the spice rack, grabbing two small spice jars and sliding back to your bowl. "yeah, actually. it's your birthday, right?"

"yeah." he moved over to the fridge, grabbing the bag of cheese and throwing it down onto the counter you were working at. "i like cheese in my eggs." you shook your head but your hands still moved to grab the bag, fingers pulling the seal open and your hand dipping into the bag to sprinkle some into eren's eggs. it was his day after all.

you didn't even realize he had moved from behind you until you heard the sizzle of the bacon on the pan, his hand setting down the spatula, and only then did you realize he had flipped them for you— his head turning towards you to watch you make the eggs, you whisking at the mixture. "thank you." you said softly, eyes lingering on his curious expression before turning back to the eggs. "anything you doing for your birthday?"

it was funny, how you asked that as if you and his friends didn't plan out a whole event for him alone.

he shook his head, as you expected and you couldn't help but let a smile creep on your face as you walked over to the stove, checking on the bacon, and eren taking your spot near the eggs. he slowly began whisking at the mixture despite them already being mixed. it was a domestic feeling, one that you felt before yet it still felt fresh, still felt new and it still made you want to live in moments like these forever.

"nah, you wanna do something with me?"

your lip twitches, and you place the bacon next to the stack of pancakes. the oil drifts to the side as you lean the pan and simply stare for a few minutes, before going to the sink and dumping it. you wiped the side of the pan and spread oil onto it before placing the bottle of oil down and reaching your hand out for eren to pass you the eggs.

he does, his fingertips sliding over yours as he passes it along, and you pour it into the pan, then turning to drop the bowl in the sink. "omelette or scrambled? and you wanna go to armin's later today?"

he scoffed, fingers drumming on the now empty counter he was leaning against, like he was in disbelief that you wanted to go there again; and it seemed that way from his next sentence, him practically bringing your thoughts to life. "scrambled, and you wanna go there again, you've been there like twice this week? what's at armin's?"

the spatula flipped in your hand, and you frowned at eren. "nothing, we should just go there for a get together— it's your birthday after all." your gaze shifted to the plate of food. "can you get another plate for me?"

although eren didn't answer, the sound of plates clinking as he reached for another plate, and the closing of a cabinet told you he complied. he placed it beside the other plate, sliding two pancakes onto it, including the almost burnt one. "two pancakes on your plate?"

and you nodded your head, "no bacon." you scraped some of the eggs onto eren's plate and scraped the remainder onto yours— you weren't too hungry, but you wanted to eat with him, so you made yourself a little too. "so can we go?"

eren's eyes followed you to the sink, where you placed the pan down, the steam rising from the water hitting the hot pan much like the steam rising from the eggs. you came back over beside him, hand patting his side lightly to signal him to move over a little so you could open the utensils drawer. his answer was reluctant, but you didn't think it was necessarily because he didn't want to go— you weren't sure what it was. "i guess, what time?"

you grabbed two forks and two spoons, placing them onto each plate and clasping your hands together, in content at not only the two full plates (if you'd consider yours full), but also at the confirmation from eren next to you. "like... seven? i'm gonna leave earlier though... i have some errands to do."

eren raised a brow, but shook you off, as if he just accepted you running around the usual now. he grabbed his plate and you grabbed the syrup before following behind him until both of you were sat at the dining room table. he couldn't help but still question where you were going though. "what errands?"

you repressed yourself from rolling your eyes, sliding the syrup across the glass table until eren's hands were wrapped around it, popping the top open and drizzling the sticky liquid over his pancakes. "i'm just gonna run to the store real quick, we'll meet up at armin's place."

eren once again didn't respond, pushing the syrup back towards you and poking at his pancake.

with a small sigh you slipped your phone out of your pocket and unlocked it, pressing a few buttons until you and armin's messages were open. your fingers danced around the screen until you began typing.

march 29th, 12:34pm

⤷ i might have to come a little later than i wanted to, spend some time with eren

⤷ ok, i'll text them to come earlier!

⤷ tysm, i'll probably come around 5

you placed your phone down on the table face down. you were somewhat surprised by armin's response time, but you were grateful nonetheless. you'd spend a little more time with eren, it wasn't a big of a deal, not even the small feeling of nervousness that came back was a big deal. with how well everything was going you were sure they could deal without your for a few extra hours.

when you looked up, eren's palm was holding his head up, as his other hand cut the pancake in front of him, a small pout on his face. you almost felt bad, if in the back of your head the surprise party didn't linger you probably would have felt bad. you gave a weak smile, and tapped the glass table to catch eren's attention. "eren,"

"hm?"

"happy birthday."

a few hours.

a few hours until eren's party, a few more hours of planning, few more hours of jittery feelings and sneaking around eren.

maybe a few more hours of questions, questions from eren, questions from your friends, questions for your friends.

"armin, pass me that last streamer."

armin took one of the white streamers from the table next to you, placing tape on the tip and you stepped down from the chair you were standing on to grab it. once you taped it your hand swam through all the streamers that were adorning the wall. they had came down from the ceiling, connected to the wall and then came down like a waterfall, a jade green, light green and white patterned across the wall.

"does it look good?" you asked armin, and his hands went to touch the streamers as well while he nod, surprised at how well you pulled off the design. hitch didn't seem to be the only creative one in the friend group.

"of course, of course, it looks really nice, it's creative too."

as you were about to respond, the pop of a balloon made you and armin flinch, both of your necks snapping towards the sound, connie and sasha both standing their frozen, the remnants of a balloon in connie's hand, sasha holding back her laughs.

stepping down from the chair, you sighed, and armin pat your shoulder. "i'll go help them with the balloons, don't worry." he stepped away, heading towards the living room to do just as he said.

you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding to check on the progress in there, mikasa cutting up tomatoes for the guac that niccollo was preparing, her hands moving flawlessly as she chopped away. "want to help?" she asked, not even looking up to see who walked in.

you had nothing better to do, everyone occupied with one or more aspects of the decrorating, so you said a "yeah," and she dropped the knife, placing another tomato down and grabbing an onion and another knife to begin chopping beside you. "how is it going out there?"

"out there" wasn't too far, you looked over your shoulder and armin, sasha, and connie were arranging the balloons, tying them with ribbon and letting some stray ones float. "they're doing good, i think, thanks for helping with the food."

"no worries." she continued to slice at the onion, but something else was itching her, and she couldn't help but ask. "how did you get eren to not follow you here?"

"'was hard, i hung out with him for a little longer, that's why i was late... and i told him i was running errands." you and eren didn't do much when you were with him, yet you still had fun, even though it was something as simple as chilling on the couch and watch television together. like you thought earlier, eren's presence was enough.

mikasa's head shook, scooping up the onions and placing them in the bowl where niccollo was working, squeezing a lime into the mashed avocado. "didn't take you as a liar," she joked. "what time is he coming?"

you shrugged, eyes glancing to niccollo who was mixing together the guac, then trailing to the grocery bag beside it. "probably around seven like i asked, i don't know. can you grab me some big bowls?"

mikasa went to grab a large clear bowl, placing it down beside you gently. "here," she handed you the bowl, a section in the middle for the guacamole.

"do you think he knows we're planning his surprise party?"

"he might have an idea about it." mikasa replied. "but not a big one, the other day he called armin asking why we didn't invite him over."

your hand stuttered, and you almost cut your finger while slicing the fruit in front of you. "what did armin say?" eren didn't question you further after you told him you had went over to study, so your lie couldn't have clashed with whatever armin told him.

she took the knife from your hand, using it to slide the tomatoes you cut off the cutting board and into the guac. you pulled the bag of tortilla chips out of the grocery bag and opened it up, pouring it into the clear bowl.

"armin didn't say much, he just said you had passed by and that it was nothing special."

you let out a sigh of relief, moving the chips around then pushing the board towards niccollo. "nicollo, put the guac in the middle when you're done." another bag, and another bowl that you poured the contents into. "when i got home from your house few days ago he asked me why i went without him and i told you i grabbed some calculus notes."

"that's close enough." she grabbed the bowl of tortilla chips once niccollo put the guac in the middle. "i'm gonna put these on the table."

"and i'll put the rest of the snacks in the bowls, you can help out there." niccollo told you, pulling the bowls away from you and ushering you out before you could say anything, his hands on your shoulders moving you to the entrance of the kitchen. you didn't question him, just taking your leave and heading towards the living room, wanting to see how the others were doing.

the decorations were coming together, balloons creating an arch around the television set, "happy birthday" letters connecting from one end of the wall to the other, hanging over armin and connie's head, and more balloons connecting together on either side of sasha and jean who were sat sitting on the couch.

it was beautiful, the greens, silvers, and whites all complimenting each other, from the table cover, to the streamers on the dining room wall, it was all a pretty sight to look at and you were filled with bliss, bliss at the fact that it was working out like you had planned, at the fact that your friends and you could put everything together so well.

"guys, you guys did so good!" you sounded cheery, and they caught on small smiles appearing on their faces at the joy on your face, it seemed seeing you happy made them happy too, just like sasha and niccollo. "i really love it!"

"see, i told you she'd like the arch." armin commented, hand pointing to the arch of balloons. "they wanted to just put balloons everywhere, i thought you'd like it if we made it more uniformed." and he was right, you did love it, it was more than you asked for, more than you expected them to do.

"yeah, no, i love this." you had pulled out your phone, preparing to take a picture but stopping for a moment, looking at the time. it was almost seven, and so you decided to text eren instead.

march 30th, 6:43pm

⤷ you can be on your way soon!!!

"i told him he could be on his way like an hour ago." a red solo cup was in your hand, and you were standing with hitch in the kitchen, her sipping at her own drink. you were getting fidgety, almost an hour had passed and eren wasn't here yet, nor did he respond to the last text you sent him. maybe he forgot?

"maybe he got caught in traffic." hitch shrugged, "i don't think he forgot." it was like she read your mind, but it didn't help to calm you— traffic didn't even sound plausible with how near you and eren's apartment was to armin and mikasa.

"traffic? seriously, we don't live far from here, he would've made it sooner than now."

armin frowned at hitch, "maybe not traffic, but maybe he's still getting ready, you know eren's always a little late places... just relax until he gets here." his hand reached out, palm up. "want me to refill your drink for you?" you knew he was just trying to ease you up, get something in your system and relax you until eren would arrive.

you were about to hand him your drink but then your phone vibrated, the light flashing from beside hitch and she picked it up for you, eyes moving back and forth while your screen illuminated her face, and you tried reaching for it but where she sat on the counter top she could easily pull it out of your reach, and that's exactly what she did, your hand stretching for your phone while she read it from where her arm was above her.

"hitch!"

"it's eren, he says he's here."

your eyes practically popped out your head, and you turned to armin, placing your cup in his hand, the liquid threatening to spill over the edge with how fast you shoved the flimsy cup in his grip, almost crushing it. "be right back!" you said loud, speeding past your friends to leave the kitchen and get to front door.

your heart pounded in your chest as you exit the kitchen, butterflies filling your stomach. you spun around the bodies of people (which was more than you expected hitch to invite) rushing to get to the front door, to get to see eren, to get to show him everything you all put together.

you almost stumbled over your own feet, apologizing to whoever you bumped into but not daring to look back, because the door was right there, and another burst of restlessness filled you when your fingers wrapped around the cold metal knob of the front door,  the air that hit you raised goosebumps on your legs when you swung that same door open.

you rushed out the door and down the steps, almost missing one in the process, but it didn't matter because there he was, those same wispy hairs you knew he never tried to tame even on his birthday still framing his face, blue green eyes steadying on your figure running towards him, and plump lips breaking out into a smile that you never knew you'd be so happy to see.

eren, he was here, after you didn't know how long, and you were happy, you were so happy you didn't stop running, crashing into him and causing him to stumble back, but god the small chuckle, the feeling of his smile against the top of your head was so beautiful, so relieving.

"eren," you pant out, your breath fanning his arm, and you pressed yourself against him more, like he'd disappear if you let go. "eren, you're here."

"i'm here." your eyes squeezed shut at his words, at the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders, letting you get as close to him as possible, your legs in between his and your head pressed against his chest like earlier in the kitchen. you never thought you would be so happy to see a person, and even though all the two of you ever did was hug it felt so new and so fresh.

you felt like you had been hugging him for only seconds, but when he began pulling you off you didn't complain because there was much more to show him, so many more things for you to be nervous to show him, but wanted to show him anyways because only god knows how long these things took to make for him.

"what took you so long?"

he scratched the back of his neck, tongue sliding over his lip as he grabbed your hand, the two of you slowly walking back towards the apartment. "i had fell asleep, sorry, i'm here now— i couldn't have missed much?"

"jesus, eren, i thought you forgot!" you cursed his stupidity. seriously? falling asleep moments before his party? he had you worried he was gonna miss it, and he could've.

"no, no, i didn't forget. being home alone is boring you know, so i took a nap." you looked down. you did leave him alone for a couple hours, on his birthday at that, but what he would see in a couple minutes would hopefully make up for it.

his eyes raked over you. "you look nice... and to think it's my birthday." he smiled, and although the moon was out, little light being casted on the two of you he didn't fail to notice your attire and compliment you, your hand squeezing his a little more.

"thank you," and you did the same, letting your eyes look over him, quirking a brow at his appearance; a sweatshirt that was covering the undershirt that was peeking through his collar, and some simple jeans— so much for it being his day. "yeah, you didn't dress up much, it's your birthday eren."

he began to swing your hands back and forth, not seeming to care much for your comment. "i woke up late, i just threw something on."

a silence washed over the two of you as you made your way up the steps, and you almost didn't want to go inside. you wanted to talk to eren a little longer, have it be just you and him a little longer because you knew he wouldn't be at your side for too long once you returned to the house.

"ready to go inside?' you asked as if he genuinely had a choice, but for some reason you still felt a bit sad when he nod his head, pulling you to the door with him.

your hand twisted the knob of the door, and if only you could've watched eren's face once you swung it open. a roar of "happy birthday, eren!" flooded both of your ears and eren quickly became the main attraction. he was the main attraction, it was his day, his birthday.

his mouth dropped open, eyes widening and eyebrows coming up in shock— no in awe, and it was no longer a "small" birthday party that he had in his head, there were lots of people he could recognize, lot of eyes on him, and pretty shades of green dusting the room. you felt his hand squeeze yours in return, and he almost didn't even notice his closest friends crowding around him.

"eren! happy birthday!" hitch pat his shoulder, beckoning for him to bend down a little bit, a party hat in her hand that matched the one on top of her head. his gaze broke from the room around him to his friends in front of him, and he bent down, hitch snapping the hat onto his head, you giggling at him as he adjusted it, a goofy grin on his face. if it was any other day, he probably would've refused to have such a silly hat on his head.

"yeah, happy birthday." armin said smiling happily to finally see eren, and smiling to not see you worrying anymore about his arrival. mikasa stood beside him saying a small "happy birthday" as well, and eren stepped forward to give both her and armin a hug before stepping back beside you again, his hand never leaving yours as he did so.

"do you like it?" the question was urging you to ask it, and eren looked down at you again, your nail pulling at your lip while you waited his response.

"do i like it?" he pulled you into a hug too, squeezing your shoulder. it was obvious to him, of course he liked it— how could he not? "so you planned this?"

"we all did."

"who's we all?"

you scanned the room, but it was only you, hitch, armin and mikasa standing in front of eren. "well, the four of us and jean, sasha, and connie too. i don't know where they are though, probably the kitchen."

"i love it, i really do, thank you guys so much."

you felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, like you were free from a burden you had placed onto yourself. everyone told you he would love it, and you knew it too. although, the feeling of eren himself telling you was a relief that never felt so good.

"i'm glad, let's go see the others." so eren's hand that was still intertwined with yours had pulled you along, the other three dispersing to do their own thing. small "happy birthdays" were said to eren as he passed people, and he occasionally stopped to greet someone he knew well properly while you stood back waiting patiently for him. hitch did him justice, most if not all the people he did know, even if you didn't, and now would be a great opportunity to get to know some more people but you chose to stay beside him.

when the two of you had entered the small space of the kitchen, sasha was standing with a plate next to connie. "eren, happy birthday!" her voice was muffled by her food, her covering her mouth as she spoke, but you could tell she was elated to see him with the way she perked up at the sight of him.

"yeah, happy birthday dude." connie blew a party horn in eren's face obnoxiously, and eren's face scrunched up, although you knew he didn't mind, as matter of fact probably the complete opposite. he was almost too happy and you could see it in his walk and his face.

"thanks guys, and thank you for planning this all out."

"thank _____ for getting us off our asses and forcing us to plan this shit." connie quipped, and you would've knocked his head straight if you didn't catch the jest to his tone that made you and eren chuckle.

he looked down at you after connie had pinned the party on you again, "so it was you who planned all of this basically. that's why you kept leaving?"

"yeah, i was planning shit out with them— i wasn't trying to leave you or anything." getting that off your chest felt equally as good, and it seemed that eren felt relieved as well, apart from the way his grip finally slipped from your hand.

"good... good, i love this, you did amazing, i appreciate this a lot." no words were enough to explain how much eren really appreciated you, appreciated everything you were doing for him— so all he could do was hope that you knew. "i'm gonna get a drink and look around, okay?"

"i'll be here." but your reply was short lived. instead of staying with connie and sasha you went to find armin for your drink. you needed it to calm the jitters that you were feeling, and you were glad when you caught him chatting with another blonde, who you surprisingly recognized but sadly couldn't recall her name.

"armin, my drink." the red cup still rested between his fingers, and at the sound of your voice he looked up, immediate remorse on his face when he saw yours, then looking down to the cup before passing it your way.

"i'm sorry, i forgot to fill it up." when you looked down into the cup it wasn't full, the liquid from before still swimming in the bottom. it was fine, everyone was occupied, trying to have fun and so you didn't mind, you'd just fill it up on your way to the kitchen, no big deal.

"who's this?" the girl turned to you, eyes bored as she tapped against the cup in her own hand, and armin looked between her and you, perking up. it was a chance to try to socialize, try to make friends, and you tried to take that chance.

"oh! annie, this is _____, she planned this all out, eren's roommate."

"hey!" you gave her a small smile, hand out for her to shake it, and she did, giving your hand a light shake before letting go. she didn't seem too interested in conversation with you, her blue eyes flitting over to armin every once in a while, while her feet kept turned towards him. "i think i've seen you around before, you look familiar."

she looked you over, studying your appearance before coming to the conclusion that she has seen you before. she put her cup to her lips, drinking before responding. "i'm here sometimes— armin's house."

armin next to you let out a nervous laugh, cracking his knuckles while listening to you and annie's conversation. "yeah, you've probably seen her around before, she comes here often."

you shrug, not sure if you had ever seen her at armin's place. although her face was familiar you couldn't really recall who she was, and you blamed your lack of socialization. you'd keep her name in your head, hopefully for future reference. "probably, but nice to meet you anyways."

armin waved, and you waved back before heading back over to the small crowds of people to get to the dining room, a selection of drinks splayed out for anyone to come and grab as they please.

hitch was there, seated on a table chair she pulled out, sliding a soda can towards her to pour in the alcohol that was already in her cup. she only noticed you when you walked over to stand right in front of her, her eyes gazing up at you before averting her attention back to her drink. "couldn't have asked sash to get some better booze?"

your own arms reached over to do just as her, a can of soda in one hand that you poured inside what was already in your cup— it upped the alcohol, and overall tasted funner. "don't think it was sasha who got it." you replied, taking small sips of your drink as if you were taste testing it.

"hm," hitch did the same, taking a swig of her drink before twirling it in the cup, setting it back down on the table in front of her. "i told you he'd come, and that he'd like it. you were stressing for nothing."

"yeah... i guess," you went to grab the chair diagonal from hitch, pulling it out from behind you and plopping yourself down in it. "where is he anyways?"

hitch looked ahead of you as if she was genuinely trying to find eren before looking back to you with a shrug of her shoulders. "not sure, he was over here a couple minutes ago with jean getting a drink." you missed him by a hair, and your shoulder slumped a little lower.

"he was over here?"

"why, you looking for him?"

you sunk down in your seat a bit, your feet tapping together while your fingers pattered against the plastic of your cup. you weren't looking for him per say, you just wanted to be with him, just have another moment with him, see him happy and see him enjoying himself in what you created.

"eren has got you fucked up— you need to, and i cannot stress this enough;" she pointed her cup at you, "just tell him." hitch let out an exaggerated sigh, her scooting down in her seat as well as she drank her drink again.

"hitch, please, i don't think you've understand how many times i have been told that this week, and nobody seems to understand how not easy that is." and you were right, it wasn't easy, there was too many problems that could arise if it backfired. you'd rather pine for eren for the rest of your life if it meant that things would stay natural between the two of you— if what you had going on now stayed.

"or you're just making it harder than it has to be." she had a challenging look in her eyes, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles, a small smirk on her lips.

you gave a her a questioning glance, not looking too long and shifting in your seat. maybe it was harder than it had to be. maybe it was your nerves telling you otherwise, maybe you were following the pounding of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach.

hitch looked you over, shaking her head with a small giggle before pushing her head from under her and standing up with her beverage. "i'm gonna go tell connie to change whatever the fuck is playing, i'll catch you later." and she walked around you, body disappearing into the bodies of people leaving you by yourself.

but not for long, a hand on your shoulder making you jump, you turning around and seeing eren, towering above you, a slight smile on his face. speak of the devil, it was the man of the hour— just who you wanted to see, and who you were happy to see. "hey."

"hey," you stand up almost too fast, pushing in the chair and standing in front of him. he steps back to give you some space, almost caught off guard with how fast you stood up. "what's up?"

he leans into your ear, making sure you're able to hear him over the sound of the music and the chatter of the people around the two of you. "want to go outside for a little bit? it's kind of too many people, just wanna get some air." the faint smell of alcohol is present on his breath, and it reminds you to grab your cup, nodding your head and taking his hand in yours— where it felt snug and right, just like it did earlier.

the two of you make your way out the house, and the air did feel good, it didn't feel stuffy, it wasn't loud, it was calm and quiet, the breeze of the night only chilling you slightly, but eren next to you made you dead to the breeze.

he walks forward, only a few steps and you follow along, until both of you are leaning against the railing that kept you from falling a couple feet or so, cup dangling off the edge in your hands, and the moon so bright in the sky it only felt a couple feet away.

"i feel like you don't know how much i actually love this." he starts, and when you look at him he's still staring at head, the glint of the moon making his eyes look ethereal, illuminating them in only the best way possible. "how much i appreciate this, this party, everything."

"i know, eren," a grin can't help but form on your face, and you could hear the words come from his mouth again and again. the feeling that his appreciation sent through you gave a sense of pleasure, a satisfaction and it brought a form of closure. "i know."

it's just quiet, it's nobody talking and it's just the two of you. you're allowed to relish in eren being beside you because that's what you wanted from the moment he arrived, you wanted to be with him, and so despite the two of you not talking, he was enough. the sound of his light breathing was enough, the heat radiating off of him was enough, the sight of him was enough.

yet, you break the silence.

"do you wanna see what i have for you?"

he finally looks your way, and his eyebrows are knit, pink lips only slightly parted, and your eyes can't help but flit down to them before coming back up to his eyes. you weren't sure if he missed your quick glance or not, his lips closing. "there's more."

"if i can recall, you get presents on your birthday right?"

this time, you're the one to grab his hand, and his fits in yours like a puzzle, and you're the one to pull him down the steps that you had ran down earlier, him being the one to finally trail behind you.

you walked him to your car, your hand digging in the pocket of your coat that albeit the warmth of the party you had managed to keep on, and you grabbed your keys, your thumb pressing down onto the black button that made the lights in the vehicle flare up. you place your solo cup on the roof of the car and your hand grasps the car doors for the backseat, opening it up and being greeted by leather seats and a small white bag.

you almost couldn't fathom that this small white bag only days ago you cared so much about, that the ribbon that your hands were holding onto mattered so much to you, the small lettering on the front mattered so much to you— and only moments ago eren couldn't express his enthusiasm for the party you planned for him.

all your friends who had repeatedly told you not to stress were right— if eren loved a stupid dirt cake, and a little embroidered letter, he'd love anything you gave him from a small paper bag or a couple of snacks to a watch, to a party.

you moved aside and eren moved forth, making himself comfortable on the seat of your car while you placed the bag in his lap, and he looked so adorable; the party hat that was splashed with color leaning a little too far right, and the cheerful smile on his face as he moved the tissue aside and peeked into the bag closely, before his head shot up and him beaming at you instead.

even though he didn't even see what was in the bag yet, his hand came to his chest dramatically, acting way too surprised for someone who wasn't even sure what you got him yet. "for me?"

you rolled your eyes gesturing to the present. you wanted him to see it so you ushered him on. "yes for you, now hurry up and open it, it's kind of cold out here." the cold was nothing to you today, your coat kept you warm enough.

he wasted no time complying, pulling out the small black box, a pretty suede under his fingers as he pulled off the lid, and his eyes shone as he did, another look of awe gracing his face as he stared at the contents of the box. you were so giddy, seeing the look of surprised wash over his face, that same feeling of satisfaction you received earlier came over you again and you were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you watched eren.

it was a watch, the face of it a black and white photo of him and his mom when he was young, and you were to thank mikasa for finding the photo for you. the band was a matte black and the metal detailing the accessory a pretty gold that matched the key necklace that hung around his neck almost at all times. you hoped that the watch would become like the necklace— something he wore almost at all times.

he looked up at you, and although he was sitting down he pulled you forth by your wrist. the action caught you by surprise, his free hand holding your waist and his head buried into your stomach, and almost by default did your hand go up to play with the free strands of his hair, smoothing over his head, playing with his half assed bun and carding your fingers through his soft locks.

your heart was melting, you could almost cry— and you never knew that seeing the joy and admiration of you on someone else's face would mean so much to you, you never knew that making someone else happy was something that made you happy, especially when it came to someone like eren. it was the same expression that your friends had when they saw how happy you were when you all came together to complete another task for the event, and now you could feel what they felt, except tenfold.

so you let him press his head against you while he examined the watch, you were fine with staring over the roof of your car into the distance of the night, staring at what would've looked like nothing to you if eren wasn't in your arms.

it was all something, the tall trees whereas the green leaves on them was only visible because of the moonlight, the arrangement of cars spanning down the parking lot ahead, little things you wouldn't have thought twice about. little things that somehow eren made you recognize, eren made you hyper aware of how the little things mattered, in the worst sense at first, having you constantly stress over the little things. but now you were somewhat happy you took your time on these little things, because the little things that might seem like nothing to you, could mean the whole world to someone else.

you realize that eren would have been happy with anything that you wanted to give to him, no matter how little or big not because of what it is, but because of who you are and the thought that went into it.

you almost missed the small blabbers of "thank you" that left his mouth, his lips moving against the fabric of your dress, and your coat brushing the tip of his nose. it's only when he stood up and said one more to your face that you realized he had been talking to you the whole time.

the bag wasn't in his lap no more, and neither was the box, the watch now around his wrist, and it suited him perfectly, it complimented him so nicely, although it was a simple watch (which to be fair, it was the exact opposite of simple to him). the only thing still the same was his arm around your waist, and the soft expression on his features.

it wasn't that hard, it couldn't have been that hard— not now, when you finally realize that eren is eren, and he'll be happy with you no matter what, no matter what you give him, no matte what you say to him.

"eren?"

"yeah?"

"i like you."

if this was a few hours ago, you would've choked up on your words, your heart would be racing and your hands would be a clammy mess. hours ago you would've refused ever confessing to him, it wouldn't have even crossed your mind once.

hours ago, you didn't know eren as well as you thought you did because you were too busy worrying about the what-ifs, worrying about the little things that he would've loved anyways.

his expression didn't change, and yours didn't either because you were at peace, and your shoulders felt lighter just because he now knew.

"______?"

"yeah?"

"i like you too."

that was all that it took.

that was all it took for both of your hands to cup at his face, and pull him closer while you stood on your tippy toes, foreheads touching, then nose, then lips. all it took for you to feel so loved and complete, all by the feeling of his lips against yours, the synchronization of them moving together made you giddy again, made you happy.

your noses bumped but it was okay, your teeth clinked but it was okay, you both giggled into the kiss, not being able to shake the overwhelming feel of it that somehow still kept you feeling at peace.

he pulled you impossibly close, and he kissed you until he couldn't breathe anymore, taking his time sucking on your lips, savoring every taste of your skin and the way your lips felt. the kiss alone was the cherry to his birthday— scratch that, you were the cherry to his birthday.

and when the two of you finally pulled away for air your head fell forward onto his chest almost immediately, his head resting overtop of yours and keeping you safe in his arms, safe against him. "happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday." you were the one to blabber now, and you weren't sure if it was a distraction for the tears that threatened to spill or not.

he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, swaying both of your bodies back and forth gently, swiftly, and kindly. he didn't respond, but he didn't need to respond, his love being thrown back at you just by the way he held you.

you could've stayed in this position forever, you really could've but the sound of armin calling for eren from the top of the steps is what broke the moment for the two of you, and what made matters worse (or better) was hitch standing right behind him, a leer on her face that made you let out a sigh.

"hey! eren!" armin almost doesn't realize that it's you right below eren, but when his gaze darts down to you for a millisecond he has to do a double take that causes him to break out in a smile, turning to hitch for a confirmation which she gives with a nod. "we were looking for you, we have to cut the cake!"

eren looks down at you and reluctantly lets you go, shutting your car door for you and grabbing your cup. "you can go back inside we're coming." he announces, and even then armin and hitch don't move, both leaning against the railing like you and eren earlier, as if something would come next between you and eren— you had to chuckle at this.

when you and eren began walking hand in hand, for the first time you didn't worry about what he'd think of the cake, you didn't worry about if he'd like the color, or the taste, or the shape, or anything for that matter, because you knew eren would appreciate anything you'd throw his way.

"hey,"

he looks down at you, and the calm look on his face almost mirrors yours. "yeah?"

"happy birthday, eren."

[literate-simp]

BEING BESTIES W/ SOME JJK CHARACTERS; Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojou and Sukuna.

Notes: Look. I know we all simp terribly for our husbandos/waifus but I just wanted to write a simple hc about what it's like to be their besties

Warning(s): slight cursing. I indulged too much on Sukuna.

Includes: gn! reader, fluff, chaotic energy, mentions of romance (just light)

Itadori Yuji

He's friends with everyone, says hi to strangers and probably would be besties with every old lady he meets so it wasn't hard to be friends with him.

But the second he becomes besties with you, shit's gonna get borderline chaotic.

3AM and y'all can't sleep? McDonald's parking lot with an abandoned shopping car would sound damned fine. You both remember the moment as 'Chicken Nuggies and the Wind' since he t-posed on the moving cart whilst eating nuggies (you both almost scratched a Ferari).

If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer in training, he'd still try to sneak you in his room to watch some movies. You with the snacks, leaving Yuji in charge of the movie picking (you can't decide to save your life)

Cuddles! Nothing wrong with besties cuddling. He's extremely respectful to your s/o (if you have one) and are probably good friends with them too!

Though the second you come to him crying, they were already being patched up in the hospital. Won't hit a woman, against his morals, but he will make sure she never speaks to you again.

Understanding, chaotic besties! An arm around your shoulder when someone's obviously making you uncomfortable, he's the one barking when he sees someone slip something into your drink.

The friend to help you find your way out of a frat house. Makes sure you're getting touched with your consent and sober. All you need to do is give him a sign that you're alright and he'll give you a thumbs up before leaving.

Definitely the friend you'd open up to (about anything) and not be treated differently after so.

You told him about your problems a few minutes prior. It was quiet, a bit too quiet. And you were worried he might leave you for it.

"Ey, Y/N. Wanna go to McDonald's again? I think they have that burger you like," He blurts, catching you off guard. You raise your eyebrows before smiling gratefully.

"Sounds great, Itadori."

You guys talk about women with butts all the time. Not out of thirst or anything, it would just be a random thought that comes up and one of you would contribute to the other. You once mentioned something about Jennifer Lawrence and he would not stop talkinf about her. It was hilarious how much he was drooling.

You wear his hoodies and he's fine with it. Thinks you look good in them. Sukuna teases you both about your relationship and Yuji slaps his mouth shut before he says anything more.

"You look great in them, Y/N," Itadori grins, rummaging through his closet to find more hoodies.

"Thank you. They're pretty comfy," You mention the fabric and the fluffiness. He listens to you intently before Sukuna pops out from his cheek.

"Ehhh? This is the one you think about everyday--," Itadori has never slapped his cheek so hard before in his life.

Megumi Fushiguro

Honestly, pretty chill dude.

He has a small group of people he trusts, and a smaller one to which he considers to be his good friends.

So to be his best friend, you must've gained a huge amount of respect from him; saved him, maybe even overheard something you shouldn't have and kept quiet about it on your own accord.

You would have a 'you aren't comfortable with it, so I'm not forcing anything' vibe to which he would be relieved to know. Though even so, you are the more hyper one in the platonic relationship.

Outings would consist of trips to libraries or quiet nights on the couch with your legs entangled together with lo-fi music playing in the background.

Not much talking, Megumi likes to keep to himself and you have no problem with the comfortable silence you both bring together.

Though sometimes it gets too quiet so you annoy the hell out of him to get his attention; cheek poking, soft arm punches, slight pushing.

Megumi ignores this, finding your actions a bit cute. If it gets too annoying, he will get up and leave, having you trail behind him, whining like a child wanting candy.

Yuji would join in. Definitely. Nobara too if she was bored enough.

"Megumi~ I want your attention~," You whine, running after the raven-haired man.

"Yeah! Yeah! Pay attention to Y/N!" Yuji supports you. You clap your hands together, only to be hit with a shoe by Megumi.

He would never do anything outside of your comfort zone. If you had an s/o, they both would be neutral with each other.

If you were to get hurt from said s/o, they would leave your house with a bloody knuckle. He wouldn't hit a girl, but he definitely will destroy whatever life she has outside of your relationship with her.

Parties are a no-go for him, unless his friends force him to. He's the designated driver with three other drunk children (Hint; Yuuji, Nobara and you). He wouldn't carry anyone else but you back to your room.

"Jeez, Y/N. You should know how to handle your alcohol," Megumi sighs, laying you on top of your bed gently and pulling the covers up.

"Nngh. Didn't know it was alcohol," You groaned. He smiles, patting your cheek before getting up to leave.

"I'll get you some painkillers in the morning, alright?"

You can wear his sweatshirts if you annoy him about it (he secretly likes how comfortable you are around him). He thinks you look charming in them, Yuji never shuts up about your friendship. It's the few times he's seen Megumi genuinely smile.

Nobara Kugisaki

Radiates bad bitch energy.

It isn't easy in the first stages since she has standards with friends but the second you both find something similar about each other, it's an immediate ride-or-die friendship.

You would need a major backbone, 'I'm too hot for this bs' kinda vibe (it's canon that the reader is a bad bitch, periodt). You would have arguments with her but it's pretty basic stuff like the perfect colour for nailpolish or whether Maki deserves the Earth or the universe (you both agree it's the universe).

Outings consists of shopping malls and popular cafes. You take selfies everytime you see something relatively new.

Talk about anything under the sun -- newest trends, new food to try out, Maki -- but her favourites are hearing you talk about your day. If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, she'd visit your apartment, give you a hug and sit on the couch to listen to you blabber away about something that isn't related to curses or death. She needs time to rewind and you never mention how vulnerable she looks when she's tired.

"Uh-huh and what happens next?" Nobara asked, carressing your hair as you lay on her lap.

"He wouldn't stop following us! It was so creepy! No means no right? Like why would you waste your energy following a group of friends who aren't interested?" You ranted on. Nobara simply nods in agreement, smiling at your annoyed face.

She doesn't mind your s/o, probably would just say hi before leaving you two alone. She doesn't have a problem about her friends having a relationship, she does, however, gets pissed that she isn't in one.

If you come to her crying about them, she would slither in some 'fuckin told you they were gonna do it' or 'I told you so'. Though it makes you upset, you know she's gonna trash their house the second you leave the room.

Your (now) ex would suddenly be cancelled beyond belief, you wouldn't know what happened to them.

Despite the bad bitch personality, you are the more patient one.

Parties is a yes. She comes in as a self-confident woman and will leave self-confident and drunk. She's the life of the party and pulls you into conversations to keep you company. Even if you don't contribute much to the conversation, she makes sure you aren't out of her sight. She's not the type to bring a friend to a party and leave them the second after. She cares about you even if her way of showing was a bit too pushy.

You share clothes with her and she'll give you comments about it.

"The shirt doesn't fit. No, no. The other one. Yeah, that one."

"Who cares if people say you aren't supposed to wear skirts? Your ass rocks better in those than mine. Just take them."

Personally likes dressing you up, doesn't like dressing you up for dates though. Still doesn't know why.

Gojou Satoru

God, the willpower you have to even tolerate this man is immense.

It's not hard to be his friend, all you have to do is do something that amuses him and he'll keep teasing you about it.

In this platonic relationship, you're the more calm one. People call you to take care of Gojou constantly, and you're the only one he allows to scold him.

He goes for missions half the time so it's rare to see you both go for outings. The most you've been together outside of Jujustu Tech and work hours was in a bar with Nanami (you both bond over the fact that Gojou is terrible to work with). He got too drunk and started slurring his words.

"Y/N~ stohp flirting with Nanamin and talk to meee," He whines, pinching your cheeks as you sigh.

"We are simply talking about your bad work habits, Satoru," Nanami answers whilst shaking his head, downing another drink before he gets up to leave. "I'll take him home, rest well Y/N."

"Noooo, I want Y/N!"

A needy best friend. Constantly asks for attention. If you ignored him, he would only make the situation slightly more annoying -- similar to Megumi's Y/N, the basic cheek poking and whining.

Your s/o would probably hate him, he's a bit too flirty and likes to hug you in public. People mistake you both for a couple rather than the s/o at hand. Don't be surprised if it's the main reason your relationships don't end well.

If you come to him upset because of them, he wouldn't waste a second to zoom to your shared apartment and 'deal' with the person. Would come back with a smile and some takoyaki. No blood on him since he used his infinity.

Parties are alright with him. He's the cool flirty dude everyone seems to fawn over. Would accompany you for half an hour, only to leave with another chick to a nearby bedroom. You never end up partying with him after opening the God forsaken door and he's never stopped trying to make it up to you.

Other than the traumatic event, he'd a bit of a douche but still tries to look for you in the crowd. He waves once he sees you and flashes a reassuring smile before continuing his talk with the others.

You don't share clothes with him simply because it's Gojou. Who knows when the last time he washed his clothes.

Though he's willing to share. You're just more reluctant, really. Finds it cute when his shirts are slightly bigger than you. If you're built bigger than he is, he would like how tight it looks on your body.

"Starting to think you look better in my clothes than I am. And that's a pretty good compliment." He grins.

Hates the fact you never take his compliments seriously. Says it from the bottom of his heart, he really thinks you're charming.

Ryomen Sukuna

God, was it hard trying to befriend this curse of a man. An asshole, he stuck his feet out to trip you over multiple times before cackling like a damned demon (which he is).

Though you're always genuine with him. You liked having conversations with him and listen to him boast about himself for hours. Guess that's when he saw you as a close acquaintance.

Would never tell you you're his best friend. Never. Not once. Him simply acknowledging you was enough for everyone to know he favored one person.

Being friends with Sukuna meant being friends Yuji. Itadori always apologizes on his behalf and you would always laugh, telling him it's alright. Sukuna gets annoyed by this though.

"Stupid human. Who do you think you are being all mush with this useless vessel of mine?" He sneered the second he could pop out. You shrugged, taking some popcorn to feed him.

"He's a pretty good guy. You should cut him some slack," You answered, stuffing some popcorn to your face as well

Will constantly threaten to kill you but you never paid heed. You know you're his only friend. You don't agree with his actions but you find the curse interesting.

Literally the only person who's allowed to tease him. You get away with things most curses would get killed from. You once hand him super hot sauce for his pancakes and he glared at you for the remainder of his time being conscious in Yuji's body. You found the plate broken with a fork stabbed through it.

You aren't allowed to go on outings with Sukuna (obviously) so you both spend your time within Yuji's room. Not allowed to go out since everyone'll freak out seeing Yuji with tattoos resembling the King of Curses.

"Humans are so boring," Sukuna groaned, his head on the bedstand. "All they do is just sit around doing nothing but scroll through their stupid boxes." You smiled at him.

"Not my fault you commit mass genocide for fun. I'd say we're pretty passive."

He would literally never care about your love life. Still has the old man mentality that romance meant sex and that was about it. If they were to meet, the curse would just roll his eyes and turn the other way.

Getting hurt by your s/o results to hurtful teasing and bloodshed. No in-between, no nothing. He wouldn't know how to comfort you properly so he'd send Yuji in his place. Would sit at the back of Yuji's mind getting pissed that he was hugging and rubbing your back gently as if he couldn't have done it himself (literally sent Yuji only to judge him).

Not allowed to go out so parties is also a no-go BUT since this is just a headcanon, let's imagine it's college AU.

College AU Sukuna would love parties -- he throws them, orders his friends to invite hot girls and frat guys. And invites you himself. No one would know you were friends since he never mentions it but will literally choke anyone who looks at you like you're a piece of candy.

Gets way too drunk and probably have railed 3 people to cloud 9 in a matter of 2 hours but still go out just to check up on you. He doesn't necessarily care but he hates having the sick feeling that you were in possible danger somewhere he wouldn't be able to see you.

Stare at you for a good 3 seconds before leaving you alone. You'd never know he was there.

Clothes! His clothes are Yuji's and he barely even keeps his shirts in tact. Does he care whether you wear it or not? No.

Is he pissed? Slightly.

This took me two days, I'm not sure if it sounds canon anymore. Anyways, thank you for reading!

♡︎ literate-simp

[sonneillonv]

Time Warp - Chapter 1

Read on AO3

"Y'know, Mike Levi is having a house party," Steve says out of nowhere, passing VHS cases between his hands with the steady rasp of whispering plastic. "If you want to go."

"The fuck is 'Mike Levi'?" Billy returns, lounging against the counter with all the aplomb of a movie star standee. Steve's half tempted to stack a bunch of Mad Max tapes around him - and Escape From LA, Terminator, Cobra - and cash in on free subliminal advertising. He might, if the store wasn't deserted. Family Video stays open late, but most of Hawkins rolls its streets up at 9pm.

"Y'know, Jake's little brother."

"...Who's still in high school." Billy removes the cigarette from his mouth just so he can exhale deliberately in Steve's direction. The smoke curls with his unspoken disdain. "You wanna go to a high schooler's house party."

"Not especially," Steve huffs. "But it's not like there's fuck-all else to do. We're gonna have the kids home by eight..."

"You keep saying 'we' like I'm going with you," Billy points out. "I never said I'd go with you."

Steve rolls his eyes, grinning, because he already won this argument. These are the last spasms of a dying man, because Billy is incapable of not bitching. "Whatever, man. You're going with me. It's just a couple hours, anyway."

"They're too old to need chaperones," Billy argues, and Steve shoots him a pointed glance.

"Yeah, and if it wasn't Hawkins, maybe they wouldn't. But it is, so deal." He scoops up the stack of tapes, shuffling them together easily like oversized cards in long-fingered hands, and Billy lets himself be distracted by the movement of those fingers.

"Take Robin," he says absently, drawing smoke into his lungs. "Those fuckin' brats love her."

"Dude, c'mon. She literally took that shift so I could go trick-or-treating. She's working till close." Steve slaps the pile down on the returns cart and eyes him. "Just give it up, man. You're going. Designated babysitter #2. I warned you, a semi-reliable dude with a car is fucking catnip to parents around here."

He heaves a smoky sigh. "I'm not dressing up."

"Yeah, well, I'm with you on that one, but Henderson tells me it's extremely lame not to dress up, even if you're just on chaperone duty. So we're both dressing up. Thought I'd pull my Vecna Mission outfit back together, throw in some aviators, do like a Top Gun thing," Steve reasons.

"Where the fuck is Munson?" Billy asks through his teeth. Still dying, still thrashing against the inevitable. "Why can't he and Cunningham go?"

It's Steve's turn to heave a sigh and eye him. "Cause then he wouldn't have time to prep. Apparently it takes hours to run one of these things." Eddie's planning a special, Party-only D&D session for Halloween night. Dustin has tried begging, bribing, and threatening Steve to get him to play, but he's managed to avoid making any promises. "And Chris is working. She and Rob won't get off until after we're done. But I was thinking, y'know, we drop the kids off at the Wheelers', sit around for a bit, have a beer, pick out our candy tax. Then we can go get the girls and hit the party. I just don't wanna stay in again," he complains, punctuating his grievance with the steady beep of the scanner as he pulls movies out of the return bin. "Monster movie marathons are great for a couple years but I just wanna... I dunno, have some drinks. Be around people. Music."

"Yeeeaaaah," Billy drawls. "Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but your King Steve days are over. You try to hit up a high schooler's house party, they're just gonna think you're in denial about your glory days."

"Dude, it was four years ago!" Steve protests, and Billy shrugs.

"You're gonna be standing in a corner drinking vodka and cherry kool-aid, trying to look cool and actually looking like a has-been. Just the facts," he purrs when Steve opens his mouth, and Steve gives him his best bitch-face. Introducing Billy to Erica Sinclair was a mistake.

"Fine." He slaps another stack of tapes down on the counter. "You got a better idea?"

Billy almost blows it off, but then something sparks and he holds his cigarette between two fingers and exhales slow curls of smoke over his bitten lower lip.

"Y'know something, princess? I just might."

[marvelsmylife]

I’m sorry I’m late (2/2)

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Plot: when Steve called and said he wasn’t coming back for a long time he didn’t realize he was not only leaving you but his unborn child behind. When he does return (six years later) Steve discovers he’s a dad and tries to come back into the readers life so they could be a family but the reader is scared he’s going to leave them again.

Part one

It’s been a year since Steve came back and to his word steve did everything in his power to make you guys a family again. A few weeks after Steve came back you revealed to Sarah that Steve was her dad and gave her the option to see him. Sarah was apprehensive at first because she didn’t know Steve but warmed up to him when you brought her to the compound to visit the team. In a matter of weeks, she became a daddy’s girl and Steve felt like he was getting the family he wanted, he just needed you.

Steve tried to get close to you again but every time he thought he was making a breakthrough you slapped him with the ‘I’m just being civil for our daughter’.

It wasn’t until you had a heart to heart with Laura about how she was in your place when she had cooper that made you think about your feelings towards Steve. She told you that just like you she also didn’t take Clint back when he was gone a year without telling her even though she still loved him. It wasn’t until she got a phone call from fury saying Clint was in a coma and there was a chance he might not make it that made her rush to the hospital to reveal she was still in love with him and that she stupid for not taking him back.

Ever since that day you started thinking how you would react if you got a phone call saying Steve was in a coma or worse, he was dead. A wave of guilt hit you at the thought of him being dead because Steve would have died thinking you still hated him when you were still in love with him. A part of you said you should swallow your pride and apologize because of the way you were treating him and ask if he wanted to get back together. Another part of you said to make up the little excuse just to hang out.

Since you couldn’t muster up the courage to admit you were wrong yet you decided to ask Steve if he wanted to go to the aquarium with you and Sarah. When you told Sarah you guys were going to go to the aquarium while you guys drove to the Avengers compound she started freaking out. “Yay,” Sarah clapped and caused you to laugh at her enthusiasm. “Is daddy going to go with us?”

“I don’t know sweetie” you replied just as you guys parked outside the compound. “Listen I have to work for a few hours but after that, if you behave I’ll take you out for ice cream before we can go to the aquarium. How does that sound?”

“Yay,” Sarah clapped. You couldn’t help but laugh at your daughters' excitement while you got out of the car and opened the backseat to get her out.

“I knew you would like that plan” you tickled her stomach and closed your car door. Once inside you dropped off Sarah with Bucky in the lounge before you headed to your office and started working.

A few hours later you entered the lounge and spotted Steve and Bucky playing barbies with Sarah. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity you cleared your throat and said “Hey Steve, can we talk in private for a second?”

Steve nodded his head and handed Bucky the barbie he was holding before followed you out of the room. “What’s wrong ?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the aquarium with me and Sarah? You know, as a family.” You waited nervously for his response.

Steve smiled so wide it started to hurt. He was happy you asked him because Sarah told him about your plans and said how she hoped that he would go with them “Y-y-yeah I would love to. Are we going now?”

“Yeah. I just finished work for the day and I thought I’d take her now. Are you free right or do you have work?”

“Yes, I am free now. I actually asked for the day off so I could spend time with Sarah” Steve bit his lip and started fiddling with his thumbs.

“Great. Ummm we should probably get Sarah and head off then” you turned and walked over to Sarah with Steve following closely behind you. “Sarah it’s time to go to the aquarium so say goodbye to uncle Bucky.”

“Bye uncle Bucky” Sarah gave Bucky a hug and a kiss goodbye. When she walked over to you she noticed Steve standing closely behind “daddy are you coming with us to see the fishies?”

“Yes. Is that ok with you?” Steve asked and earned an enthusiastic nodded from his daughter saying she was ok with him coming. “Ok then let’s get going” Steve placed a kiss on her cheek before you guys headed to your car.

Thirty minutes and a quick trip to the ice cream shop later you guys arrived at the aquarium. Sarah squealed with excitement when she spotted a giant fish from the car. Not being able to contain herself Sarah unbuckled herself before you had the chance to turn off the car. “Someone’s excited” Steve laughed at your daughters' excitement before you turned off the ignition and got out of the car.

The minute Steve opened the back door Sarah hopped out of the car and grabbed yours and Steve’s hand “Mommy daddy let's go !!! I want to see the fishes ! ! !” Sarah started dragging you guys towards the ticket booth.

Sarah kept talking about all the fishes she wanted to see while you guys waited in line. Ever since Tony gave her a book about the sea when she was four Sarah became infatuated with sea creatures and since then you have this feeling she‘s going to be a marine biologist when she grows up.

To your surprise, you were having a great time at the aquarium. Sea life wasn’t your thing but watching your daughter beam with happiness every time she saw a fish she read about in school made your day. She would bombard you Steve with facts about the fish and although you weren’t interested in the fish you pretended to be interested for her sake.

One sea creäture Sarah wouldn’t stop talking about was the starfish. Luckily for her, there was a petting area where you can pet a starfish. When you told Sarah about it begged you guys to go there and you would go back to the other fishes later. “Mommy, daddy, it’s this way ! ! !” Sarah pointed to a sign with a starfish and an arrow pointing left.

“Calm down little lady, the starfish isn’t going anywhere” you laughed and looked over at Steve who was laughing as well.

Right as you guys were about to turn the corner you felt a hand on your arm. Turning around you noticed an elderly woman smiling “I’m so sorry to bother you but I just wanted to tell you that you guys are such a cute family.”

“It’s ok and thank you” you reciprocated the smile and started talking to the elderly woman about her family. She told you that you guys reminded her of her husband when they were younger and how she hoped you and Steve would have a long and happy life together like she had with her husband.

Steve in the meantime was confused because every time someone commented on how you guys were a cute couple you would be quick to state you two weren’t together. Testing to see if you would brush him off Steve placed his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him. To his surprise, you didn’t pull away as you finish up your conversation with the elderly woman “We have to get going but it was nice talking you and thank you for the compliment.”

The woman gave all of you hugs before she walked back to her family. “Mommy, daddy you guys are hugging” Sarah exclaimed when she noticed your arms wrapped around each other’s waist.

“Yes, we are Sarah. Are you ready to pet some starfishes?” you responded and started rubbing Steve’s back.

“Yessss ! ! !” Sarah shouted and caused a few people to stare. Not being able to wait any long Sarah broke your side hug with Steve and grabbed your hands before she tugged you towards the starfish exhibit “come on, let’s go”.

It was night by the time you guys got back to your apartment. After tucking Sarah in you guys quietly left the room and headed towards the front door. “Thanks for joining us today. I know Sarah was happy it was just the three of us hanging out because it felt like we were a family.”

Not being able to help himself Steve reached over and caressed your jaw “We are a family” Steve whispered as he looked into your eyes.

“Yes, we are a family” you repeated and placed your hands on his chest. You moved your hands up and wrapped them around his neck before you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek “I’ll see you tomorrow Steve.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow” steve placed a kiss on your cheek before left your apartment.

Since that night you started spending more time together as a family. Steve started to feel like you guys were getting back to the way you used to be before he left. Whenever he wasn’t away on missions you would have him over for dinner and have family movie night every Saturday. You also converted your office that you never used into a spare room for when he felt like sleeping over; which was every night. The team noticed the sudden change in yours and Steve’s relationship and they wished you guys would get back together. What they didn’t know was that their wish was going to come true after Sarah’s birthday party.

Since Tony was Sarah’s godfather he took it upon himself to turn an empty floor in the compound into a kids play area just for Sarah and suggested to have the party there. On the day of the party, Tony brought everyone up to the newly designed floor and revealed to Sarah that the entire floor was going to be hers. Sarah being the sweet girl you raised turned to Clint’s kids and said: “I know uncle Tony said this was all mine but you guys are always welcomed here, even when I’m not here”.

“Can we go play now?” the youngest Barton asked and Sarah nodded excitedly before they ran off to play before the rest of her friends arrived.

By the time you were all singing happy birthday to Sarah there were dozens of kids surrounding you guys. You weren’t surprised there were a lot of kids at Sarah’s party because she was a very sociable girl. “Make a wish and blow out the candles sweetie” you whispered in her ear when everyone was done singing.

Sarah shut her eyes as tight as she could before blew out the candles in front of her. “What did you wish for sweetie?” Steve asked.

Sarah looked up at you and Steve and responded: “For you and mommy to get married so we could be a family.”

Everyone stared at you and Steve to see how you were going to respond to Sarah’s wish. They all knew how much she wanted you guys to be married. “That’s a wonderful wish sweetie” you placed a kiss on her forehead. “Steve, can you help me pass out the cake?”

“Sure thing” Steve placed his hand on your lower back and placed a kiss on your hair as he passed by.

“I think your wish is going to come true” Nathaniel whispered to Sarah.

“I really hope so” Sarah whispered back before she scarfed down her birthday cake before continued to play with all of her friends.

You guys got back from the party with a sleeping Sarah in Steve’s arms at a quarter past ten. When Steve tucked her in he let out a quiet laugh when noticed a chocolate mustache on Sarah’s face. Steve gently wiped the chocolate off of his daughter's face before he kissed her forehead and followed you out of Sarah’s room. “Are you going to spending the night?” You asked while you took off your coat and shoes.

“Yeah” Steve replied. The room when silent a few minutes of before Steve decided to ask the question that has been on his mind half of the day “So what did you think about Sarah’s wish?”

“I thought it was cute.” You responded quietly while you tried to avoid eye contact with him and started walking back and forth across your living room.

“No I mean I know we are on good terms again and we show affection to each other from time to time but do you ever picture us getting back together and getting married? I know I do.” Steve noticed you started to become nervous so he decided to walk over to you.

It’s now or never y/n, tell him you feel and that you want to get back together you thought to yourself. You took a deep breath you replied “Yes I have thought about it. Since we took Sarah to the aquarium to be specific.”

Steve felt his heart beating fast at your words. Taking your hands Steve asked, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I tried to tell you multiple times but chickened out and-” Steve cut you off by pressing his lips against yours. You were shocked at first by Steve’s actions but once you realized what was happening you eagerly kissed him back.

With every minute that the kiss grew more and more passionate. Neither one of you wanted to pull away but you eventually did because you needed to breathe “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance when you came back, I was just so hurt that you stayed in Wakanda while I was taking care of Sarah. I never stopped loving you.” Steve held you in his arms and started leaving kisses on the side of your head.

“No, I’m so sorry I put you through so much pain. But now that we’re back together I promise I’ll never put you through that kind of pain again, we are back together right?” Steve asked.

“Of course we’re back together” you responded and pressed your lips against his again. Reaching down you palmed him through his pants “It been years since I’ve had sex, Can we-”.

“Let’s go to your room, I have a twin bed and if we’re going to fuck like we used to then we are going to need a bigger bed” Steve grabbed your hand and made your way over to your bedroom. Being as quiet as possible you and Steve had the best sex either one of you guys had in your entire life.

[stressisakiller]

As You Wish

Steve Rogers x Reader Soulmate AU

(As you wish Part 2)

Summary: What happens when after moving into Stark Tower you run into a certain Captain

Warnings: None really, fluff, like one cussword a little bit of spice

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Fluffy chapter yay!  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

<< Previous   Next >>

Life working side by side with Tony was dangerous. When Killian attacked Tony it was you not Pepper who was taken and subjected to the Extremis serum. This caused you to heal crazy fast and gave you super strength, which was pretty cool but not very useful for someone who spent most of their time in a robotics lab trying not to crush something when it wasn't working.

You later discovered that Killian mistakenly believed that you were in fact Tony's soulmate, while you had always thought that it was Pepper. She quickly refuted your claim when you told her, pulling the back of her jeans down enough to show the smiley face that graced her butt cheek. Turns out that her soulmate was none other than Happy the head of security.

 About six months after the battle of new york, after Tony and the whole Killian/Mandarin situation, Tony asked very nicely if you would move into the Avengers tower with him. He needed to get the Avengers tower going, and after everything that happened and his panic attacks, he really didn't want to live there alone. He was also hoping that if you lived in the tower that the avengers would be more willing to as well. By this point you had met and become friends with most of them save for Captain America, he hasn’t been around much. He was trying to find his place in this new world and taking as many missions as Shield will give him in order to feel needed 

The tower was much different this time than the last time you had been there. There was less plastic film and dust everywhere and all of the construction work was done. Most notably, the wall on Stark's living room floor was no longer a gaping hole.

The top eight levels of the tower were for the avengers. The penthouse was where Tony stayed, no surprise there. The level directly below was his lab space which was restricted access for the most part and then there was the common level under that. The common level was composed of a large kitchen and dining area, as well as a massive living room with the biggest tv you had ever seen. This floor also houses a theater, and an arcade room equipped with pool tables and any other game you could think of. Tony is such a child sometimes, not that you were complaining you loved to play pool. The next three floors are where you and the rest of the Avengers would live. You would each get your own suite that you could arrange and decorate however you saw fit. Each suite includes a kitchenette, and small living room that was separate from the bedroom, and a massive ensuite bath. The lowest two levels were dedicated to the training room and medical ward, as well as a giant pool and sauna area, these floors allowed for outside access as long as they were vetted.

Six months later, life in the tower was going well. You, Tony and Bruce, were the main people living there. You could understand that though, Nat and Clint were constantly out on missions for shield and mainly stayed on base in DC. Tony told you that Steve was currently living in an apartment in DC. He didn't want to live on base but he was running missions for Shield on and off. Thor was off-world with Loki so life was pretty quiet. 

 Then there was a mission that the Captain went on that didn’t go the way he thought. He was wounded and brought back a captive. You were in the common area when the door was thrown open and a bloody Steve Rogers burst through carrying a soaking wet girl over his shoulder.

“The Medical wing, where is it?” He questioned voice hard from pain or fatigue or both. 

“This way.” you hurried off, not looking behind you, you knew that he would follow. 

When you arrived, you called for Dr. Cho and Steve told her what was going on and placed the girl on a stretcher. The nurses pushed her to a room to monitor her until she woke up. He was then shown to a separate room to be looked over and have the bullet removed. 

 That night Tony pulled you into the living room to watch your favorite movie, the princess bride. It was about halfway through when an exhausted Steve came through the door and flopped down on the couch beside the one that you and Tony were currently lounging on. It was coming to your favorite part, Buttercup was currently yelling at the Dread Pirate Roberts and about to push him down the hill.

“Oooh,” you said hitting Tony’s shoulder, “I love this part,” you spoke along with Wesley as he rolled down the hill, “As you Wiiiisssshhhh.” you clapped your hands together, “that will forever be the best reveal ever.” 

You didn’t notice Steve’s stare as you said those words. Holy Shit he thought his tattoo finally made sense, and yet the girl that fate said was perfect for him had her legs thrown over Tony’s lap and was leaning against him while watching the movie. He stood quickly and stomped out of the room, today was just not his day. 

 You look over at Tony confused when Steve left.

“What the hell do you think that was about?” you asked, growing more confused as you noticed the smirk on Tony’s lips.

“Why are you smiling like that?” You had to stop yourself from slapping him when he started to laugh.

“What the hell, Stark, tell me what's going on?”

“I think that Capsicle just realized that you're his soulmate.” He said through chuckles.

“What the fuck do you mean he realized that I’m his soulmate?” you asked your whole body going still as you waited for him to elaborate.

“I thought you had realized this earlier,” he said looked genuinely confused, “The captain is your soulmate, I’ve known since we had that movie night after finding him in the ice. Your tattoo is his dog tags with the flower of his birth month and a phrase that I’ve heard him say multiple times while next to him in a fight.”

You just sat there frozen trying to comprehend what exactly the man sitting in front of you was saying. 

“You know, he may be a little jealous that his soulmate was cuddling someone else since he probably doesn’t realize that you're like a sister to me. You should probably go after him.”  His words seemed to break you from your trance as you threw yourself very clumsily from the couch to follow after him.

“Jarvis, where did Rogers go?” 

“He is in the training room miss.”

“Thanks, J”

You ran all the way down, opening the door you were met by the scene of Steve hitting a punching bag so hard that it broke and flew off of its chain.

“You know, I’m not sure that those are made to withstand the punch of a super soldier, maybe I should design one that can,” you said leaning against the wall and trying not to show the fact that your heart was beating a million miles a minute.

“And why would you feel the need to do that, I’m sure Stark has plenty of things that he needs you to design that are more important than a Steve-proof punching bag.” You could tell that he was gritting his teeth as he spoke, reaching for another bag. You step towards him slowly, making sure not to walk too quickly from fear of him leaving.

“Well I’m sure that the great Tony Stark can take care of himself, and anyways, I think creating something to make my soulmate's life easier is more important.”

He slowly pulled his eyes from the punching bag that he was hanging onto the hook to look at you, pain obvious in his eyes.

“Really? Cause you seemed pretty comfortable with him.” you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he spoke, he had gone through so much already.

“Yes really, Tony is more like an annoying older brother than anything. I’ve been working around him for the past five or so years, trust me when I say that I have no desire to date him. You on the other hand.” You made sure that your voice turned teasing on the last words, you wanted to make him smile, you hadn’t gotten to see that yet.

“Well good, cause I think I may have to kick his ass if you did.” You could hear the teasing lilt in his voice and the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. But as quickly as it came it was gone.

“How long have you known?” his voice cracked a little as he spoke. You let out a small huff of a laugh.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Tony had to tell me when I was confused as to why you left the room?” His eyes snapped to yours.

“Really? You didn’t know?”

“After not meeting my soulmate by the time I turned 25 I just pushed it to the back of my mind, I stopped trying to figure out what my tattoo meant and I focused on my work. Plus there were a couple of life-threatening instances that distracted me." You joked. You weren't 100% sure how to handle this situation, your main friend group consisted of a playboy philanthropist and a science nerd that turned into a giant green guy when angry, not really the best people to show you how to be vulnerable.

“I understand that," he said pausing before continuing, "part of my problem was that my tattoo didn’t show up until after I came out of the ice.” he looked down at his hands and you noticed that they were fidgeting, he must be just as nervous as you.

“I didn’t know that,” you murmured, deciding to ask the question that was begging to be asked.

“What is your tattoo, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He shook his head, “Not at all.” he stepped towards you and pulled up his sleeve, and turned out his arm so you could see the flesh just under his armpit. As soon as you saw the tattoo you burst out laughing.

“Of course that’s what my mark is, man I’m such a nerd.” You clutched your stomach as you laughed, tears coming to your eyes from the range of emotions that you are currently going through.

“Can I ask why I have this tattooed on me?” He questioned, clearly curious to the reasoning as to why he had a movie quote on his arm forever. You were finally able to pull yourself together and sober up from the surprise of his tattoo.

“That movie came out the year after I was born and it was my mom’s favorite movie to watch with me, we watched it at least 4 times a year. But we always made sure to watch it on my birthday as a family, it became an integral part of my life, plus it’s just sooo quotable.” you said with a smile, “Do you want to look at my tattoo?” you asked motioning at your arm with your head. He slowly nodded, not able to find the words.

You slowly pulled your sleeve up, showing him the inside of your forearm and the dog tags that graced your skin. He stepped forward gently taking your arm in his hand so that he could study the markings on your skin. Tracing the outline and the words that he could see before smiling.

“What does it mean?” you asked softly looking at him through your lashes.

“It’s um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s my dog tags or at least the lower one is, it says my name, then Captain America and the city I was born in, Brooklyn. The top one however is something that I always seem to say when I’m getting beat up in a fight in order to remind myself that I could do it. And the flower… I think it’s the flower from my birth month? I was born in July so I think it’s a reference to that.” You nodded at his explanation, his fingers still gently tracing over your skin, causing goosebumps to pop up from the feeling.

“So, would you like to watch the movie with me? We can start it over so that you won’t be lost. I know that you struggle with pop culture, old man.” You smirked at him as you spoke, he just rolled his eyes.

“Be careful, this old man could still show you a thing or two.”

You laughed out loud at that, your laugh changed to a squeal when you felt him wrap his arms around your legs and throw you over his shoulder. 

“Ahh, let me down!!” you beat at his shoulders trying to get him to release you but he wouldn’t budge, he just continued to carry you until you ended back in the living room and he threw you down onto the couch. He wasn’t even breathing hard after carrying you up 2 flights of stairs, jerk. 

Tony was nowhere to been seen as you restarted the movie. You ran and grabbed some more popcorn to share, pouring in some M&Ms before plopping back down next to Steve and pulling on your couch blanket. It didn't take long for you to cuddle into his side and for your eyes to droop. 

Steve smiled at you when he realized that you had passed out before you even got to the part he had walked in on earlier. He didn't mind though, he just got comfortable and pulled you in closer before allowing himself to relax and fall asleep. 

Tagged Users: @writerwrites

[angelhummel]

I’m watching the new Cinderella movie jesus take the wheel

why bother with rhythm nation when glee already did it better. you could never

why bother with somebody to love when glee and ella enchanted and happy feet did it better

the costumes are ugly as fuck. it looks like when you’re a kid and you’re dressing your lil barbies up to go to a party and there’s no cohesion you’ve just got 50 different bright colorful dresses and you’re slapping em on willy nilly

and of course ella’s running around town in the modern day equivalent of just her bra but they also have power tools so i don’t think they’re going for historical accuracy 

i think i’ve genuinely laughed twice. once was just with idina’s line delivery and then when the prince said “we’ll grow old, into our forties” 

also if they’re broke why does ella have so much fabric and bling for her dresses

camila sounds fucking awful lmao. i don’t mind a lil vocal fry if it’s in the moment and adds to the performance but if it’s every fucking line then i think you just can’t sing. and she’s moving her mouth way too much for the lack of energy in the audio

literally everything is so fucking insincere. every single line is either #GirlBoss or anti girl boss to prove a point about how girl bossness is truly the way to go

and don’t worry we got something about women give birth and run households so they can run businesses or whatever. pussy power babe

the stepmother threw a tiny bit of ink on ella’s dress to ruin it. so anticlimactic. ella could’ve put a flower over it, turned it around, worn it inside out, worn a shawl, who gives a shit. the scene in the cartoon is so dramatic no one will ever touch it

i want to step on these cgi mice

Billy’s outfit is my favorite so far. The bar is on the ground but I like it

wait the mice talk and have boy voices but also she thinks the mice are girls. why. what is the purpose of that. what shallow commentary on gender does “i thought mice are girls and rats are boys” make. UPDATE: the mice sound like just squeaks to her so she can’t hear them. ok.

also am i dumb or was missy elliott supposed to be in this. i guess she got out while she still had a chance

the costumes at the ball are a little nicer. i love some sparkly ball gowns

oh okay a third laugh when the cellist smashed her cello then immediately pulled out a second identical cello and the crowd gasped

the prince has a little sister that looks like kit kittredge cersei lannister girlboss

and of course the queen girlboss has like starving peasants and income inequality in the kingdom but her making a statement is wanting to be equal with her king. like she was measuring throne sizes. that’s her arc

she commented on the king’s taller throne and i thought it would be funny if they zoomed out and it was sitting up on books to make him taller. but they didn’t do that he just had a bigger throne made i guess 

they had like a greek chorus moment but it was just in one scene so far and really awkward

we’ve cut away from ella and the prince like five times to focus on stupid human mice nonsense for what. was it in james cordon’s contract that he had to have a minimum amount of screen time or he wouldnt do it

the songs aren’t great but they’re my favorite part cause it means i dont have to hear this awful dialogue 

also like they really copied miss evie descendants bc she invented being a girlboss princess fashion designer dress maker. get some new material, champ

also also copied into the woods cinderella “my father’s house was a nightmare. yours was a dream. now i want something in between” like why even bother

of course the stepmother has to have some sympathetic backstory. bc women can’t be villains or capable of bad things they can only be jaded girlbosses who were gaslit and gatekept and now are sad

okay the stepmother’s original song was probably my favorite. it sounded like something i’ve heard before but oh well it was nice

is pierce gonna sing sos or what

oh he did sing it was kind of funny kind of ... but i liked that the horse was freaking out. nice callback to mamma mia. not that there was a horse in that but everyone was spooked 

this costume person must’ve hated idina bc that final outfit was offensive

Umm okay so that was the movie. Wasn’t it something. Idk I love “so bad it’s good” films but this was just bad. Like it’s not even fun to watch as a spectacle like when you wanna watch something just to make fun of it. It was just bleh

I guess I recommend if you’re curious or if you just wanna shit on it. But also I recommend Disney’s cartoon Cinderella, Brandy’s Cinderella, Into The Woods, Ella Enchanted, Ever After, and Hilary Duff in A Cinderella Story. This was not needed in the least 😬😬

UPDATE: So several different people are like “people are taking it too seriously it’s not supposed to be oscar worthy it’s supposed to be fun” like sis i get it but it’s not fun either 😐 there are plenty of good bad movies out there to put on and have a blast but this ain’t it. this isn’t mamma mia this is mamma mia 2

[13uswntimagines]

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog​ and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101​ for betaing this for us). 

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them. 

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.  

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ‘elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…) 

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream. 

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh. 

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples. 

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster). 

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team). 

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged. 

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.” 

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up. 

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life. 

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,” 

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation. 

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door. 

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now. 

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus). 

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room. 

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed. 

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place. 

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”. 

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively. 

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head. 

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…” 

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head. 

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand. 

“Tasty made here we come,” 

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it. 

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display. 

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided. 

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly. 

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world. 

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her. 

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,” 

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables). 

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration. 

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter. 

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,” 

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

[crystalas]

Hind Sight

This is both inspired and a sort of prequel to Starfics’ answer to my prompt, I loved the idea of it so much that I started a Demon Bull Divorce AU, have fun!

Hindsight

Like a lot of things in hindsight MK could see that this was a very dumb idea.

It was a spur of the moment idea that came to him and Mei as they saw Red Son in the garage with his signature jacket hanging up because said fire demon was currently up to his elbows in tuk-tuk engine bits.

Red Son had just shown up at the noodle store one day declaring that he was there to ‘pay off his father’s debt’ after the whole lunar new year event. Everyone was a bit suspicious at first but Mei and MK decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all they knew he wasn’t all evil. True to his word he helped out with fixing stuff and had offered to upgrade the Tuk-tuk, after a few weeks they had managed to convince him to hang out with them after work as well.

That day MK had figured out how to shrink himself and after showing Mei she grinned and suggested they surprise Red Son with it.

Which was the aforementioned very dumb idea.

Said idea was for MK to shrink himself and then have Mei put him in Red Son’s jacket pocket, and when Red Son put it back on, have Mei ask the fire demon if he has seen MK and when he said no ask him to check his pockets…boom! Itty MK!

So, the joke was set, a shrunk MK in place and Mei was now walking up to Red Son as he clambered out of the Tuk-Tuk’s mechanical guts wiping away the grease from his hands.

“Hey Red boy” she beamed.

“Hey dragon horse girl” he said back as he got up.

“Have you seen MK?”

“No but I need to show him how to operate the upgrades…” he began but stopped when he looked at the clock on the garage wall, his smile dissolved into mild panic.

“Is that the time?!” he yelped and rushed past Mei grabbing his coat, igniting his hands to burn off all the grease and oil that had clung to him still and began to make a move for the door. “I’m sorry I need to get home tonight, tell Noodle boy I’ll show him tomorrow, okay?” Red Son yammered quickly.

“Red wait!” Mei cried as he vanished into a swirl of fire.

“Did you check your pockets?” she whimpered sheepishly.

 MK felt like he was in a weird fair ground ride, cushioned in fabric and being swung around like on a rollercoaster; it was kind of fun. Not to mention he found a wrapped candy in here and at his current size it was as big as a pillow! He could hear Mei and Red Son talking and waited for his que but then things got very bumpy and then felt very hot and weird for a second as he felt his whole body move in a way that shouldn’t be possible for him before the background ambience of the city suddenly died into a hushed sound of far-off clanking and whirring.

He poked his head out of the pocket to see he was now in an old Chinese style mansion but it was underground and hewn from the rock itself, the walls were adorned with demon Bull family heirlooms and pictures all showing the grand history of the conquering demon clan. MK could hear Red Son muttering to himself.

“I’ve got enough time to check on the projects and get in my best clothes…did I remember to check the repair schedule for the clones?”

MK was about to poke out of the pocket and announce himself when Red Son stopped by a large door that seemed to lead to a main hall, he seemed to hesitate near the entrance as MK and no doubt Red Son could hear angry raised voices.

“How is it I was the one stuck under a mountain but you are the one stuck in the past?” Demon Bull King demanded.

“I am thinking of our legacy and heritage, things you seem keen to throw away!” Princess Iron Fan retorted.

“Our pursuit of power has only brought us trouble!” came the angry reply “We need to move with the times!”

“Listen to you!” Princess Iron Fan screeched “You sound that useless son of ours!”

MK poked out of the pocket and looked up at Red Son who looked forlorn but not surprised as he carried on past the door his shoulders hunched over as he hurried through. Red Son came to a kitchen that seemed big enough to feed a whole court full of people but it was sadly empty and hollow except for one corner where a bull clone was currently working at a stove top. It saw Red Son and bowed respectively.

“I don’t think family meal time will be happening tonight” Red Son declared “so I will be taking my evening meal in my room…again…” the bull clone nodded and got back to preparing said meal. Red Son continued walking through the vacant halls as the vicious shouting ebbed away to quiet muffled sounds. He came to his room and sat at his desk; MK looked around to see his room unlike the rest of the castle had a bit of life to it. There were posters of car designs and movie mechs adorning the walls, a work table filled with small cabinets of tools and gear and what looked to be a shelf filled with scrolls and old tomes. MK had wondered why someone as tidy as Red Son would have what looked to be an arranged pile of tinfoil and fabric in a corner of his room before he realised that must his bed. He remembered Pigsy saying how some demons prefer nests to human style beds.

Okay I really need to show myself before things get even more awkward MK decided and he started to climb out but froze when he heard the door open, Red Son turned to see his mother glaring at him and MK quickly dived back into the safety concealment of the jacket.

“You’ve ruined him” she hissed, and MK could feel Red Son flinch. “Your father was a proud mighty demon King who conquered whole armies alone and made the heavens fear him and now looked at what you have done!”

“Isn’t this better?” Red Son said quietly “I mean…this way we won’t have to worry about him being hurt or sealed… aah!” came the pain gasped as MK could hear a very sharp and painful smack, MK grabbed the fabric of the pocket as Red Son’s whole body violently jerked to the side.

“Be quiet you worthless whelp!” she snarled “I kept our family name safe and proud for centuries and in one year you’ve weakened your father, the great Demon Bull King to the point that he wants to ‘settle down peacefully’!” she said the last bit dripping with venom and MK wished for Red Son to speak up or say something or at the very least move from where he was sitting but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry mother…” was all he managed after a moment of silence.

“Sorry doesn’t undo what you have done!” she spat and MK listened to the sound of her shoes moving away, “Sometimes I wish you had never returned!” she exclaimed coldly before shutting the door.

The fabric around him lurched as Red Son moved and he could feel energy pulse around him like the sky before lightning struck, it was only then did MK realised how dumb this idea really was. Red Son ignites into flames when upset or angry and it’s pretty obvious his clothes are fire proof to deal with that.

MK wasn’t fire proof…

MK made a mad scramble out of the pocket and leapt away just in time for a massive inferno engulfed where he had been hiding and everything else around it. He landed on the cold stone floor and patted himself down to make sure nothing was on fire and once he was sure he wasn’t smouldering he looked back up at the crackling fire ball that was his friend. Red Son still hadn’t moved from the desk but was now hunched over it his hands clawing into his fiery hair his eyes tightly shut but flames still leaked out and his whole body was shuddering as he tried to control his breathing.

MK decided that maybe he should give the fire demon with known anger issues some time to breathe and started to make his way to hide in the nest till he seemed to have calmed down but as he tiptoed his way across the room Red Son sensed the movement. The fire evaporating into the air as Red Son turned around and scanned the room, he glanced down to see a tiny MK in mid sneak.

Red Son looked at MK confused.

MK looked at Red Son worried.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Heh heh …Ta da!” MK said weakly and held out his hands as if to show off “Look what I can do now!”

“Noodle boy?” Red Son muttered quietly as his brain tried to fathom him being there before it clicked that he was and what that might imply. “How long have you been here?” he asked a look of dread falling on his face.

“Oh pssh!” MK tried to dismiss “Not long…no not long at all!”

“Noodle boy” Red Son growled, “How long?”

“… … …” MK struggled to come up with a decent excuse before sighing and returning to his full size, if they were going to have this talk he wanted to be able to look him in face. “Since you made a mad dash out of the garage…”

Red Son gave a groan and covered his face before returning to slump on the desk.

“I know this is going to sound dumb but is everything ok?” MK inquired, “I don’t know how demon families work but that…didn’t sound good.”

“Everything’s fine Noodle boy!” Red Son declared sharply, “My parents are just…going through a rough patch, that is all!”

“A rough patch huh?” MK muttered before walking over to the desk and lightly touching Red Son’s face where the red mark showing where his mother had slapped him was now fading away. How many times had that happened and no one knew thanks to demon healing powers? Red Son batted his hand away and snarled angrily.

“Yes!” he snapped and glared at his desk.

Things were clicking into place in MK’s mind, in hind sight he should have wondered why Red Son showed up out of the blue and wanted to pay off some demon debt, why he had wanted to stay around them as long as possible and even agreed to hang out in the evenings and only on certain days [apparently for family meal times] would he actually go home before anyone else.

MK remembered in the first week of Red Son coming over, Pigsy finally gave in and let Red Son help by telling him to try and get his old tricky stove working again. Red Son had not only fixed it but cleaned it up and gave it a full work through and when he was finished the thing looked and worked as if brand new. Pigsy in his joy of getting his stove back to its prime for free patted Red Son on the back and declared he had paid back the debt in spades.

MK had wondered that day why Red Son had looked so upset but had dismissed it when a moment later the fire demon had gone on a tirade about how insulting it was that Pigsy thought his father’s life was worth only an afternoon of labour.

Maybe Pigsy and Tang had cottoned on a lot sooner than he had because after that they would always find little things for Red Son to do to ‘pay back the debt’.

“Red Son” Mk said as these thoughts mulled in his mind “Was there even a debt to pay off?”

Red Son turned to face him, he fidgeted with his hands for a few moments before sighing.

“I…I…I thought you would be more at ease if you thought that I was honoured bound to behave…”

“Why didn’t you just say something?”

“Like what?!” Red Son retorted “Please may I come over here because I rather spend my days with my enemies rather than my parents because they’re constantly fighting and I can’t do anything to fix it?!” Red Son jaw snapped shut and his hair flared up angrily. “Because they don’t! Fight all the time…I mean…” he exclaimed as he tried to back pedal out of the conversation.

MK watched Red Son and felt a wave of pity come over for him, it was like looking into a mirror of seven years ago. He could almost feel the emotions Red Son must be going through right now, the uncertainty of what was going to happen next, the guilt of not being able to stop it, that gnawing anxiety of thinking if he was to blame somehow. And that horrible cold fear of knowing that sooner or later one of them will be coming up to take their frustration out on someone who won’t fight back…

He thanked the gods regularly that he was fortunate enough that it was Pigsy that caught him dump diving behind his store, how different would his life had been if Pigsy and Tang hadn’t taken him in? He probably had starved to death on the streets that winter.  

“Everything was supposed to get better when Father came back…” Red Son muttered to himself but was jolted back into the room as MK put his hands on his shoulders.

“Your parents are going through some stuff right now, so do you want to hang out at my place while they work it out?”

“What?” Red Son spluttered.

“Maybe they just need some space I dunno” MK said, “but what your mom did was not okay, and I’m worried about you”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends you dummy!” MK laughed “and friends help each other even without demon debts to pay!”

Red Son stood up and pulled out a duffle bag from his wardrobe, he started to fill it with clothes, a stuff bull toy that looked to be antique and over-night necessities.

“You seem to have experience with this sort of thing” Red Son ventured quietly as MK helped him put his tools away in a box for travel.

“Let’s just say I’ve been where you are” MK said softly.

“In your experienced opinion…will me not being here helped my parents to reconcile?”

MK swallowed a hard lump in his throat, he didn’t know if it helped with his parents because he ran away from home and as far as he knows they never came looking for him. Mk was on the streets for three weeks before that fated night at Pigsy’s and it’s been seven years since then and he’s only ever caught a glimpse of them while during his deliveries on the streets.

“Sure, they will” MK answered with a smile “I hope so!”

Red Son left a note telling his parents exactly where he was and how to contact him before they left.

MK wasn’t all that surprised when after explaining the situation Pigsy happen to have a spare fold out bed in the store room.

[capsizedskeleton]

so i watched booksmart (2019) and brrr thoughts

- watching a pre covid movie almost during post covid is absolutely wild

- yet the movie still seems modern like. this is how teenagers act! this is what they say! sure it’s all played up a bit for the movie but in general. yeah

- also im going through the college admissions process right now so. really. yeah. i wasn’t even the person who gave up on social interaction to study i was just. never any good at it. but. bro

- out of order the pool scene the pool scene!! where amy feels free and is among others and then comes up for air and smiles and then dives back down again into this connected world and sees nick and ryan. ooof

- and then the main dialogue after that is the fight between molly and amy and suddenly the audio has switched from emotional music to angry words words words 

- the fucking light that pings on in the middle of their argument and it’s suddenly clear they’re being watched... aaaaa

- the running stuffed panda joke. the matching outfits with molly’s one different scarf. gigi. amy ending up as the one person who got arrested right before graduation. molly and amy using the how to deal with an attacker move they learned from that one video on gigi trying to pull them off the edge of the boat. the strangler. the all-access library passes being used for amy and molly to research where the party is and then they just figure it out using someone’s video fo smashin pizza boxes. top tier connected humor it’s fantastic

- also not shying away from sexuality with both amy’s homosexuality (and awkwardness. we love that for her) and the friends talking about masturbation

- the two theater guys. the awkwardness during their presentations and their opposite aesthetics. at the graduation when they’re about to do this rhythmic performance and it just cuts off HJFDKH

- the way molly leans into amy’s parents thinking they’re dating and there’s no awkwardness btwn straight and gay bsfs

- jessica williams, kaitlyn dever,,, pretty

- listen everyone’s already going insane over hope on tumblr but these two deserve more hype

- speaking of which. ‘wrong hole’ HJDHJFKS

- the awkwardness of a sex scene! love to see it but also oh no amy oh no

- ngl i thought that there was a bit of shit in that cup. i did not see what she spit out. didn’t connect it to any earlier moments

- on the flip side tho the phone number moment was cute. loved molly’s reactions

- also amy’s parents’ reactions and her dad mentioning the names he gave to all the foods...

- sometimes media is like ‘people are all different and they have inner lives you don’t normally think about but you can connect with and respect them nevertheless’ and then i melt

- sometiemes... friendship...

- the costume design, the music, the lighting, spectacular. apparently some people didn’t like the in your face drastic music style but i loved it! fun upbeat songs kept stuff moving along

- everyone’s outfits really showed their personality!

- really liked the background characters and relationships, ms. fine and that one student, the asian skater dude with the overalls, amy’s obvious crush on ms. fine, annabelle and molly, jared and gigi,,,

- god when molly’s chilling with nick and it’s all sweet and then at the end she’s like ‘im being mean to him but it’s working’ hdjhskh

- the impromptu imagination dance!

- THE DOLL SEQUENCE WAS SO FUNNY DHJFSK IK STOP MOTION TAKE A LONG TIME BUT IT WAS WORTH IT, IT’S A GREAT WAY TO VISUALIZE A DRUG TRIP

- the little jail talk and then *SLAP* “BECAUSE WE HAVE SEEN THIS MAN.” “WHAT”

in conclusion. booksmart good. go watch it for a coming of age film that belongs in this age