#really wanna set aside more time for writing this year

[2hoothoots]

"Dion! Dioooon!" Mirtala’s voice rang out across the campsite; clear like a bell, pleading like a kitten’s mew, and shrill in the way only the cries of a five-and-a-half-year-old girl could be. Dion winced. Nona had always said, ever since the day Mirtala had been born, that she had ‘a good pair of lungs’. Dion thought that was a nice way of saying that she was loud. She’d been a loud baby, and now she was a loud little girl, who didn’t seem to have realised that she didn’t need to yell all the time. Especially when the person she was trying to talk to was only a few feet away through an open window. He sighed, fixing his own grim expression resolutely in the mirror. “What is it?” Mirtala’s bells jingled, and in his peripheral vision he could see her stretch up to put her little hands on the edge of the dressing-room windowsill. "I have a question," she announced. "Can it wait?" "No! It's important!" "I'm kinda busy here, Tala–" "But it's the importantest!" This was not a battle he was going to win. Dion put down the pot of pomade, and turned to where Mirtala's huge blue eyes were peering up at him through the open window. "Fine," he said. "What do you want?" Mirtala, with some ceremony, tucked her hands behind her back and tipped her head. "Are crabs fishes?"

i've been off work this week, so finished up this long-neglected wip! a couple years before the events of the games, Dion takes Mirtala and Raz to an aquarium.

[friendlifyre]

i dont rp anymore, or really play genshin, but i just want you to know every so often i'll see diluc and think about yours and i hope that you're still doing well and having fun, bc even now remembering pieces of your writing has brought me joy and i hope that you still have that feeling as well, even if its for a new muse now!! as always, i hope ur having a nice day. ♥

oughhhhh thank you for taking the time to send me such a sweet note 🥺 unfortunately yeah i can say with certainty that my diluc brainrot has passed now, but he will always hold that special place in my heart and im really glad to know the fond memories i have with him as my muse are shared by someone else in some way ! i dont really rp anymore either and my commitment to genshin has also significantly decreased these last few months jsdfhdsh but its more sweet than bitter at this point it just means life goes on and we find different - and hopefully better - things to enjoy and sink our time into. i do very much think back on those days fondly though, and i dont think thats going to change 🤍

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[astralis-ortus]

it feels impossible (it's not impossible)

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— 'cause you are the one i was meant to find.

w.count → 2k genre → romcom, fluff warnings → minor cussing (as per usual, heh), chan refered to as chris a.n → i'm usually not the type to write this long simply because i'm easily distracted and have the tendency to abandon projects, but hey! this one prevails :] hopefully next time i can write even longer fics<3 ⋆ see masterlist

honestly, you thought you were going crazy when the same melody restarted on chris’ speaker for the nth time today. it’s not that the song is bad—you do actually love ‘rewrite the stars’. you’re a fan of the movie, much like chris is, but putting the song on loop? for hours a day? for weeks? your sense of fanship isn’t that strong, especially when the song’s been out in circulation for years now.

“you wanna hear a theory?”

your question easily turns chris’ focus away from the endless papers he had to grade by the end of the day and towards you, raising an eyebrow to the sudden break of silence. his eyes visibly twinkled, contemplating if he should entertain the idea of putting on his regular-26-year-old suit over the professional-high-school-teacher ones he’d been in for the past couple hours or so.

well, to be fair, chris hasn't even been focusing on the pages of essays he needed to check. not when his mind has been preoccupied with something—someone­—else.

“shoot,” he eventually replied with a lopsided smile etched on his lips—head cocked to the side when he finally decided to shut the screen of his decorated silver laptop, offering you his entire attention. “it better be funny or entertaining, considering i’m risking losing my hearing to my kids’ complaints for not returning their papers on time tomorrow.”

“oooh, pressure,” you mocked, a wide grin appearing on your face while you try to ignore the rush of tingles under your skin when you noticed the way chris referred to his students as ‘my kids’—something he’d always done and so do you, but somehow had a different effect on you as of recent. “believe me, it’s something fun,” you hummed with a shrug, mirroring chris as you set your laptop aside.

chris’ pair of charming dimples came into view upon your confident reply, fully immersed in the stage you’re setting up. fabric of his gray couch, one where you two had been slowly melting into for a few hours now, gently rustled when chris fixed his posture, less from lazing around and more into focusing on you and whatever nonsense he believed you were going to say. the glint in his eyes grew brighter by the second, both from anticipation and excitement.

“tell me.”

it felt like spring—when the flowers were in bloom, the breeze was blowing ever-so-gently against your warm cheeks, and the swarm of butterflies were surrounding you with its pairs of fluttering wings.

chris made you feel like spring.

“gee, tone down the excitement, mr. bahng,” you inadvertently shifted away, silently praying to whatever force ruling the universe that chris wasn’t aware of the way your heartbeat spiked to his playful grin. “don’t want to disappoint you there.”

”as if you could ever,” chris promptly refuted with a chuckle, chin resting on the palm of his hand. the way his playful gaze was directed right at you, framed by those loose curls of his, proved to cause your heart more problems than ease. “the ever-so-perfect you? a disappointment? really?”

”oh shut up,” you groaned, half wanting to wipe the cocky smirk off his face—or…?

”but then—if you say so, do tell me,” frown on your forehead instantly dissipates, replaced by a mirror of his lopsided grin when you figured you could turn the bullet right back at its owner,

“am i perfectly on point when i say you’re in love?”

despite the slight pang on your heart, you couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face fades into surprise, a shade of blush slowly creeping on the top of his cheekbones.

the topic of love was never really something you discussed with chris. sure, you two met each other in college where hormones were bursting through the roof, but neither you or chris was interested in dating anyone—you with your slowly budding crush on chris, and chris with… god-knows-what he’s interested in. you never pried, for the sake of not making things awkward. that's your norm, and how you’ve spent your last 7 years with chris.

you and chris remained friends, which at some point evolved into best friends (you now, by the hey-i’m-bored-at-2am-let’s-hang kind of standard), and somehow, you two happened to land a teaching job within the same district around the same time. chris went to teach a reputable high school in the area, while you pursue your dream of teaching kids. you hang out at each other’s place every other day, despite the time you spent together consists mostly of being nose-deep in your respective workload.

the topic of love still was something foreign—you wouldn’t deliberately bring it up other than around the occasions when wedding invites stopped by yours or chris’ doorstep.

maybe, it’s time to change that.

”…huh?”

chris is thoroughly perplexed.

”oh come on, don’t even try to lie,” with a smile decorated with victory, you finally teased the man across. “it’s all written on your face, you know,” you continued, fingers gesturing to your own, “but also, your choice of song. god, do you even listen to anything else when you're in love?”

“but i'm not!” he yelped, facepalming himself upon realizing the shift in his tone is a dead giveaway of his true voice. “god—no. i'm not,” he added meekly, shaking his head, “you know i love the song. that's all.”

”fair enough,” acknowledging his plea, you briefly nod, “but that doesn’t justify the way you’ve been keeping the song on repeat! and don’t you think i don’t remember the few other occurrences when you did the same, because i knew for a fact that something happened every time you became distant after going through this rewrite the stars cycle!”

if his face were flushed before, then you’d categorize this new shade apparent on the tip of his ear as a what-the-fuck-i’m-screwed kind of blush and frankly, seeing this new side of him kind of made you regret not bringing the topic up sooner.

”you remembered?” his voice sounded more of a squeak rather than a proper question, still hiding behind the safety of his palms. “no you don’t! that was ages ago!”

”so things did happen!” your grin turned into a laugh, drowning chris’ groan and series of disapproving no when he realized he just bit into your colorful, glimmering bait. “gosh—why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? i was kinda hurt whenever that happened you know,” you purse your lips dramatically, “i lost a friend to talk to and never exactly know the reason why until today.”

“oh,” chris blinked, finally looking right at you with a puzzled gaze, “you… were? i mean—i’m sorry i hurt you. for the record, i wasn’t dating anyone. i just kinda assumed, you know, since you were dating someone else anyway i thought—“

”hold up—“ both statements rolling off of chris’ lips inadvertently made you hold up a hand, stopping the latter on his tracks. ”what?”

now both of you are puzzled.

you? dating someone?

”i just wanted to give you space,” chris reiterated, hand now awkwardly resting on his equally red nape, “figured you’d want that since me being around will likely bring trouble for you and the person you were dating.”

”but… i haven’t dated anyone since we became friends?”

you’re thoroughly confused.

”wait, what?” chris shook his head in disbelief, “what do you mean you haven’t dated anyone? what about the notes? and the flowers? and the chocolates too! what do you—what do you mean?”

nevermind, now you’re thoroughly confused.

”the ones from back in college?” your memories were not exactly as clear as you expected it to be, but you do remember receiving those gifts a few times due to its absurdity. “that was all from the rich ass kid i tutored! the one who i told you kept teasing me about never receiving any valentine's day gift? that kid? they sent me those gifts as a prank!”

“…what?”

the amount of ‘what’ you two have said in the past few exchanges is ridiculous.

”god—you thought i’ve been dating and never told you?” you finally pieced the puzzle together, incredulous. “and that’s why you distanced yourself? dude, are you serious?”

”well i just assumed!” chris raised his hands in defense, equally as incredulous as you are, “to be fair, those are usually gifts you get for someone you like! how am i supposed to know it’s from the kid you tutored? you never tried to told me!”

”you could’ve asked?” you stated, as-a-matter-of-factly. sometimes, despite that brilliant brain of his, chris could be quite the foolish one between the two of you. “besides, i thought you knew! you literally read the cards!”

”wha—how do you expect me to digest any of that when i was under the assumption someone i like is dating someone else!”

silence befalls chris’ usually cozy living room, leaving the soft resounding melody that hadn’t stopped as the only sound filling up the space. you’re not even sure if your ears were actually catching the right words falling from his lips; it felt too much like a fever dream. judging from the way his eyes turned wide, however,

you might have heard him correctly.

”you… like me?”

you never imagined you’d piece those words together, much less directing them towards chris. hell, even by remaining as friends was enough for you—having him to yourself was not something you thought would ever happen in this lifetime. you’re happy as you were; you’re content with being friends.

chris, on the other hand, is still visibly trying to digest the events that just unfolded around him. from the misunderstanding to unintentionally confessing his feelings, this was not how he expected his Sunday evening to be. all he wanted to do was be near the one person he’d been secretly nurturing his feelings for, praying that maybe one day he’d finally muster up the courage before everything was too late—but this was not how he expected things to turn out.

”i’m sorry,” he finally croaked, breaking the suffocating silence whilst also being too embarrassed to even look you in the eye, “i know it’s weird—from the misunderstanding to, you know, what i said. i never intended for you to find out about it this way. i understand that you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay, you—“

”oh shut up,” you capped his ramblings short, catching chris off guard. it’s not often you cut him off when he speak, so when you do, he knew you meant it.

“just, what?” you sighed, fingers begin massaging the throb on your temple. it’s hard to decipher what you’re currently feeling as a whole, but one thing you know for sure— you’re especially bothered by his last statement.

“chris, how would you even know what i feel if you’ve never even asked me?”

you watched through his pair of curious eyes as thoughts ran inside his mind, slowly deciphering what you meant with the sudden calmness in your voice.

“uh,” finally managing the train of assumptions in his head, chris then looked at you—only now, with a glimmer of hope reflected in his eyes, “do you... like me? like, more than just friends?”

and to that, you finally nodded.

“yeah, you dumbass. for the longest time.”

watching the way chris’ smile bloom easily turned you into another smiling mess—not missing the giggles nor the flush on your cheeks and all. It feels dumb, realizing that you’ve been into each other for forever but never realizing it because of some stupid misunderstanding.

“and i like you too,” chris reiterated, his goofy smile erasing any trace of worry that was present on his face just a second ago. honest to god—you thought you were falling in love all over again for chris.

“in that case...” he shrugged before outstretching a hand, trying his best to play things cool despite the growing excitement in his eyes,

“will you officially be my partner in crime?”

sound of your laugh only fuels the warmth spreading within chris’ heart—and it felt like the way he spent all those countless nights, wishing that one day the stars would eventually align for him finally paid off as you held his hand in yours, smiling brighter than any stars ever discovered.

“gladly.”

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[mncxbe]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: age gap relationship, old men fantasizing about their younger colleagues, itty bitty smut, dilfs

Men who are reluctant to ask you out because they don't wanna come across as creeps. They know how unusual it is for a man their age to be interested in a younger woman, but they just can't help it. You're so pretty, cheerful and kind, their little ray of sunshine.

Men who know you're at their beck and call and always make the most of it– be it for asking you to bring them a coffee or simply helping them write a report. Anything just to hear you say "yes sir" in that sweet voice of yours.

Men who can't wait for your birthday so they can finally spoil you rotten with gifts, claiming that it's only natural for them to give you something since you're working so hard and doing such a good job. A little token of gratitude. They love watching you unpack your gift, feigning surprise when you tell them it was exactly the thing you wanted. They hit you with a "Oh really now? That's just wonderful. I'm glad to hear you like it" as if they haven't observed you carefully over the past few months and know everything you like and dislike.

Men who feel guilty when their pants tighten as they watch you bend over to pick something up from the floor. They can only imagine how wonderful you'd look bent over their desk with your panties moved to the side– your pretty cunt sucking them in so snuggly.

Men who think of you a bit too much when they're alone, who do their best not to touch themselves out of respect for you but still end up failing miserably. After a hard day at work the only thing that relaxes them is dirty thoughts of you. They always play it cool the next day at work, as if they haven't moaned your name as they came in their fists last night. and the night before that. and the night before that.

Men who eventually notice that you're also interested in them and feel like they're on cloud nine. All their dreams come true when you start giving them little hints– a lingering touch here, an invitation to a bar after work there– but they don't want to rush things. Nah, they take things slow and make sure you're aware of how much you mean to them before even dreaming of laying a finger on you.

Men who are the happiest they've been in years when, after a few weeks of taking you out on dates and treating you to dinner, finally spend the night with you. They make it all about you, really. For once, they set aside their own selfish desires and focus on giving you pleasure like you've never felt before, making use of the many years of experience they have.

Men who love it when you cum for them– it really gets them going. It's soul soothing: watching you melt into the mattress and babble out some sweet nonsense about how good they make you feel. They're so gentle and caring in bed because you're just too precious, but they will gladly spice things up if you want it. Trying out new positions? sure. Toys? on the table. Anything for their pretty darling as long as you keep calling them sir when they're deep inside you.

Men who're already looking for engagement rings less than a year into the relationship. You've got something good going on, so why not? It's not like they're getting any younger. They're more than willing to spend the rest of their life with you, if you want so too, and they aren't going to waste any time to put a ring on your finger.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 (𝐣𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞)

[totaly-obsessed]

can you write something for mary when she could be having a bad day or something and the reader helps cheer her up

Lucky Gloves

Mary Earps x reader request

-> Mary just needs her girlfriend after a hard day, but it's date night

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You were late.

Not that you really had somewhere to be, it was more just an annoyance – it was date night. Every Thursday the two of you would go out together, just a little tradition you had carried through two years of dating each other.

“I’m sorry love, let me get changed quickly, and then we can be off.” You rushed into the house, not even seeing Mary anywhere but you were far too stressed to notice.

Ten minutes later, now changed out of your teacher attire you started to look for Mary when she was not read by the door like she usually was. “Mary?” You could not hear an immediate response, furthering your panic. “Baby?”

“Hmm?”

Ah. There she was.

But after following her vague noises you did not find her in a casual-chic outfit ready to wine and dine you like she usually did. “Mary? Love, why are you still wearing your training stuff?”

The goalkeeper did not answer aside from a deep groan as she burrowed her face deeper into your favorite fluffy blanket. Wordlessly you sat down next to the couch on the ground, rubbing her back. “Baby? Are you okay?”

Finally, she turned her head, now facing you. Tired puffy eyes meeting your own. “Sorry love. Let me get dressed.” With cracking bones your girlfriend started sitting up, not expecting you to throw yourself on top of her.

With you straddling her lap, hugging her close to you, she had no way of leaving. Of course, she could just stand up with you on her hip, but she would never use her strength like that, too scared that she would hurt you.

A couple of minutes of careful coaxing and cooing in her ears let the brunette finally relax, nuzzling her face into your warm neck – humming with contentment. “What’s up with you my love, huh?”

Mary would never admit it to her teammates, no matter how much she loved them, but here in your shared home, with you on her lap was the only place that she would ever call home. “Had a really shitty day.”

“Awwh, I’m sorry honey. Why don’t you take a shower and get changed into comfy clothes and I’ll get us some food, huh?”

As good as that sounded, it was Thursday, and it was the goalkeeper's turn to choose the place to eat, and she didn’t want to disappoint you. You, who had shitty days all the time and never needed to be treated like a baby. “But it’s Thursday baby. It’s my tu-“

The blonde couldn’t whine further as she was shut up with her favorite lips giving her a soft kiss. “Nonsense love – quiet night in. Doctor’s order!”

A soft laugh escaped her chest, letting you relax just a little. “Who’s my doctor then?”

“Me of course – silly girl!” Your blatant lie of being a doctor only made the older woman laugh harder, pushing you off her lap. “Alright then.”

Twenty minutes later you were changed into one of Mary’s ‘MAE27’ shirts, fuzzy socks, and some shorts that definitely weren’t yours either. “Supporting me, I see.”

Warm arms wrapped themselves around your waist, Mary’s head finding its favorite place in the crook of your neck, peppering kisses wherever she could. “I’ll always support you, baby.” And she knew you meant it, even without the deep kiss that followed your silent promise – but she was thankful for it either way.

Mary laid the cutlery down on the couch table, ignoring your perfectly made dining space, opting for comfort instead.

So here you were, each a bowl of your favorite soup in your lap while the goalkeeper’s feet kept digging into your sides.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s made your day so bad then, love?” You had both finished your bowls, so Mary took it upon herself to steal yours from you, setting them both down on the table before laying back on the couch – pulling you on top of her.

Your front pressed snuggly against yours as her prize-winning hands found their place in your hair, giving you a massage.

“This morning I woke up without you – bad enough. Then I couldn’t find my lucky gloves and spilled my coffee. So I wanted to go to that tiny shop down the road, yeah? I get there – closed! Can you imagine? So I get to training and all Mark did was yell at me, fucking hate that prick. And then Ella – goddamn Tooney goes and fucking lobs me. The cheek the girl has! And, oh my god, she didn’t shut up about it!”

Mary’s rant continued for a while, finally getting everything off her chest. But no matter how shitty her day was, here in your arms life was perfect.

[yorshie]

Hiii, I love your work! What do you think the turtles would think/feel/react if they notized, after years of relationship with a human (and everything is still going really well) , the lair is full of things for taking care of one, for example lotions, creams, hairbrushes, makeup, etc. Kind of like a realization😂

I don't really mind if it's with poly or separated.

Thank you so much for your amazing writings

Hello! I'm glad you're enjoying my stories so far!

I touched on this a bit in the ask How the Turtles Handle Romance, in Mikey's section, but you certainly don't have to twist my arm too much to get me to write more oblivious light bulb moments for these sweet turtles! I went with each turtle having a separate realization, though you are more than welcome to imagine it's a poly relationship and they're just having private epiphanies. (though I will admit that is a lot of hairbrushes to just leave lying around)

Bayverse TMNT x GNreader (kinda Fem? Idk everyone has hairbrushes, right?), SFW, turtles are 24-25

tag list: @jackalope-in-a-storm @tmnt-tychou @justalotoffanfiction ..... if i left you out I'm sorry burnt out kinda threw my tag list outa wack so just let me know if you wanna be tagged in general or if it was just that story in particular

Raphael

Another week gone by, and once again Raph set aside the time to clean up his room. He put all the clothes in the hamper, pulled the sheets off the bed and stretched fresh ones over the plush mattress. He straitened up all the knicknacks along his shelves and made sure his mini fridge was stocked with the sodas you both favored and the little ice creams you liked to eat at night.

He did laundry, grumbling at the monotony of the task. He folded his clothes neatly though, setting aside your smaller shorts and underthings whenever he found them. He added another large shirt to your pile, knowing that even if it started off as his you'd be eyeing it as a sleep shirt the moment you opened his drawer tomorrow night...

He eyed the pile, before clearing out one of the top drawers in his long dresser and setting them inside. When he scooped up your hair brush and lotion bottle, he added them to the drawer, but the three books that he found tucked under the edge of his bed went in a neat stack on top of the dresser next to his comics.

He paused, folding the blanket you liked to cuddle with, before dropping it to rest on top of the knitted red one at the foot of his bed. Picked up your fuzzy socks and tucked them next to his in the box by the door where you'd see them.

Finally done, Raph surveyed the space, eyeing the way your items had their proper place in his room, before a soft smile broke out across his face. He'd have to ask, but knowing you, you'd probably only giggle and say "about time, Red." but- he'd ask, and that was the most important part.

Leonardo

Leo sat his hamper on the end of his bed, slowly gathering the pre-folded items inside, tucking each in their rightful place, until he was left with the significantly smaller articles at the bottom that you had left in his space over the course of the last couple of months.

He gave a soft little smile, an idea sparking, and he went to his dresser, adding the brush and hair clips you'd left last week to the basket. He snagged the hoodie that swamped you next, something he hadn't been able to work over his shell the last couple of years but you'd savored the softened fabric as a barrier against the chill when sleeping over, and folded it carefully to hide your underthings underneath.

He nodded, satisfied, turning and straightening the little bits in his room that had gotten moved over the course of the day. He found another pair of your socks under his bed, and, after a careful sniff, he tucked them into each other and tossed them into the basket. At the bookshelf he eyed the couple of books he needed to return to you, and wondered if he could get you to lend him the current book you were reading when you were done. He wound the cords you both used to charge your phones up into neat little circles, pausing once more when his knuckle brushed the book he had just been thinking about where it sat innocently on his bedside table.

Leo tilted his head, looked over his shoulder at the basket, and after a bare moment's hesitation he moved to look down at all the little items stacked and folded neatly inside.

He'd have to talk to you, properly, but for now he returned the books to the dresser and set your hair brush and clips carefully on top of his dresser where you could easily find them. Your clothes, he cleared out what used to be his secret snack drawer, mentally thinking he'd have to ask Donnie to order a mini fridge for himself as he tucked your clothes neatly inside, silently happy that your belongings had found space so easily in his room.

Donatello

Donnie flopped on his bed, finally, burrowing into the latent warmth you'd left in his sheets and sighing dreamily. He'd clean later, maybe, but now he just wanted to crash for a few hours so he'd be functioning when you came to visit in the evening.

Though, trying to drift off, something poked him uncomfortably in the shin. With a grumble he contorted, pushing the item up with his knee and grabbing it. Fingers running along the edge, he realized it was a hair brush, and brought it up to quint at before he realized it was yours. With a shrug, he set it on his cramped bedside table, almost knocking over your lotion and the little lamp you had added to have a little more reading light last month. He caught the object at the last minute, setting it on the floor to avoid an accident before winding his long arms underneath the extra pillows you'd decorated his bed with over the months.

It was so soft, now with all the extra blankets and small comforts, smelling of you and it caused a small churr to float from his chest. Donnie knew he'd be curled up in your arms tonight, but right now, surrounded by your scent, he could almost imagine your body pressed up against his side. It was a feeling he never took for granted, tallied in a mental calendar exactly how often he got to indulge in the sensation. Tonight, for sure, and at least three times next week....

His eyes opened slowly, squinting, calculating. He... could change that, if he really wanted. Surely enough time had past in the relationship. He set his chin on top of his fist still buried underneath the pillow, eyes glancing over to fixate on the small bundle of comfy clothes you left on top of his dresser. Mentally, he calculated his timetable, moving virtual chess pieces around until the plan started to line up to his satisfaction.

Smiling, just a touch, he closed his eyes once more, pulling the pillow closer to his beak and inhaling deeply. Tonight, he'd broach the subject, and if he was lucky he'd wake up with you against him every morning.

Michelangelo

Mikey often just assumed you knew where everything you left at the Lair ended up. When you came in, usually asking after a certain hairband or a particular sketchbook, he'd just smile and give you the same answer every time, a variation of: "it's in my room, sweetness, in it's spot."

He took pride in the fact that your belongings melded with his. He loved leaving little doodles slipped in between the pages of your books before setting them next to the stacks of comics he kept on his shelves. Never failed to wind your hair bobs back onto the handle of your brush whenever he came across them in the bathroom or in the living room before tucking it into the drawer he'd set aside for your use the first time he managed to invite you over to spend the night.

And on the rare days Mikey woke up alone, with only a pillow to cuddle and whisper good morning too, he would remind himself that he really needed to talk to you about making things permanent. Making things with him permanent. He had no doubt you'd say yes, but the nerves of actually asking never failed to send butterflies tickling the inside of his plastron.

He could do this though, he could ask you this simple question. He pepped talked himself through folding laundry, moving on autopilot to toss your folded clothes in the correct drawers next to his own. He gave himself a strict talking to about staying on point while fishing out loose pillows from underneath his bed and making sure all blankets were accounted for if not perfectly folded. He even straightened up the game area, dusted off the cases you'd gotten him over time and the game console you'd gifted him for his 'mutation day'...

He paused, giddy, holding one of the custom orange controllers, laughing at himself as he set the device back on its charging station. He was being silly, he knew. Of course you'd say yes.

[berryhobii]

Class In Session(jhs x reader)

Pairing: DanceInstructor!Jung Hoseok x Stripper!Black!Female!Reader

Word Count: 7.8K+

Warnings: infatuated and sweetly in love Hoseok and reader, they’re both so adorable in this, hints of self deprecation, mentions of objectifying women/strippers, mentions of stripping being a shameful job, mentions of reader having previously toxic relationships(I don’t go super in detail), lying, feelings of inadequacy, lots of sad tears and happy tears🩵

A/N: I’m here with the first part of my Hoseok x stripper!reader story. Thanks for everyone who’s been waiting. This story turned out a little more emotional than I thought but after watching Hoseok’s documentaries, I’ve been really in my feelings about him😭he’s just seems so sweet and genuine which I tried to convey here. Aside from that, the smut will be in Part 2 that I’ll upload at the same time as this so don’t worry. I couldn’t not write a stripper story and not include some sexy pole dancing and super nasty smut so please read that as well! As for reader, while I don’t explicitly mention it too much, reader is on the short side, has dark brown skin and has almond shaped eyes. Reader is also wearing wigs; a burgundy one and a gray one. I’m pretty sure that’s it! As always, criticism is welcome and please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think. Until next time!🩵🩵much love

Read the smut for this couple here!

~

When Hoseok first laid eyes on you, he thought two words and two words only.

Hot Damn.

His hip hop dance class was about to start, his smile bright as he greeted his students and a few people who worked at the community center. He’s only been teaching for about 6 months but everyone had been so kind and welcoming, always inviting him to join them for drinks or to the recitals at the children’s center. He loved surrounding himself with so many people who loved dance just as much as him. He got to see all types of styles at different levels of experience and it was truly eye opening. He particularly loved the ballet class. How did they stand on their toes like that? He wished he knew how to do that.

Just as he was about to enter his dance studio, a voice calling his name stopped him.

“Hobi hyung!”

He turned, catching sight of Jungkook, one of the art volunteers. He’s helped paint all of the murals inside each studio and his class were currently creating pieces for an upcoming exhibition. Hoseok’s seen some of the work and must he say, these people were incredibly talented. One painting was a portrait that looked exactly like a photo. It was breathtaking.

“Hey Jungkook. What’s up?”

“Did you hear about the new class opening in Studio B?”

He had overheard it during breaks but he didn’t know much about it. Whatever it was, he was sure it would be interesting. There were still so many styles of dance the center didn’t have so he was excited to know what kind of class it was.

“No I haven’t. Is today the first class?”

Jungkook’s cheeky smile scared him a little. The tatted man could certainly be on the mischievous side. He scared the pants off Hoseok and many others during their haunted house last year and continued to wear the ghost mask to randomly frighten Hoseok for another week.

“Yeah. Wanna go check it out?”

Well, Hoseok’s class didn’t start for another half hour. He just liked to come a little early to set up the music and look through footage of past classes to know what his students need to work on.

“Sure.” He dropped his bag in his classroom before following Jungkook back through the lobby and down another hallway. Nothing really looked out of the ordinary.

Then they reached Studio B, the wall made of glass so that you could look right inside and what he saw made his jaw drop hard enough to hurt.

Poles. A bunch of them all spread apart so that everyone had enough space.

And on the pole at the front of class was a person spinning on it upside down, legs dropped in a split. When their stilettos hit the ground, loosely curled burgundyhair whipping up and settling over their shoulders, almond shaped eyes meeting his through the glass….

Hot Damn.

“She’s smoking, right? I met her last week and she was wearing these tiny shorts that made her ass look fantastic.”

The shorts you were wearing now was making it look just as amazing. He could only imagine what Jungkook saw last week.

Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, ankle bootie stilettos were on your feet and your outfit was comprised of tiny sparkly spandex shorts with a matching bra.

Your clothes allowed him to appreciate the beauty of your lustrous skin, an expanse of dark umber. It was like the sun spent a little more time adoring you.

Hoseok doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so……majestic.

“She’s……woah.” He breathed out.

You must have read his lips because you flashed him a smirk, your red stained lips reminding him of the sweetest berries. He wondered how they tasted….

“Let’s go in and introduce ourselves.” Jungkook suddenly said, steering to the open door.

It took a few seconds for Hoseok’s brain to understand his native language, his eyes blinking frantically as he finally processed what Jungkook said.

“Wait what?” He gasped, rushing after the man who was already in the room. You had just caught him staring at you. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, now he had to attempt to not stutter through an introduction? Who was he? A wizard? Only magic would be able to fight through this degree of embarrassment.

He followed behind Jungkook, contemplating hiding like a child behind their mother but then he thought—I’m a grown ass man! Why is he acting so afraid of meeting a new person? Among most people, he was incredibly social and extroverted, always happy to meet someone new. Even his students had labeled him as Sunshine after his bright smile and infectious laughter.

So why the hell were his palms beginning to sweat as he got closer to you?

Jungkook was the first to extend a greeting. “Hey, that was pretty cool. When they were constructing this room, I didn’t think it was to add poles.”

“Yeah. A friend of mine donated these after he purchased an old dance studio and turned it into a clothing store.”

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you and your new students. By the way, I’m Jungkook. I’m one of the art teachers.” He held out a hand for you to shake but you held your hand up instead.

“Sorry. Pole grip. Don’t want to get it on you.”

Jungkook laughed. “I get it. I’ve always wondered how you don’t slide off.”

“I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

Then your eyes went to Hoseok and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his anxious in his life. You were even more gorgeous up close.

He swallowed the block in this throat before introducing himself. “I’m Hoseok. I teach dance.” Stand up job, genius.

If you noticed his stiffness, you didn’t say anything, just nodding and smiling. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you. What class do you teach?”

What class did he teach again? It was hard to remember when your sultry eyes were staring at him like he was the last piece of cheesecake at the factory.

“Uh…..hip hop. I’m in Studio E.”

You hummed. “That’s cool. I learned hip hop back home but I haven’t done it in a while. I’d love to pop into your class one time and watch you work.”

He didn’t think he could handle that type of pressure. He was struggling to keep it together right now. Imagine him trying to dance while you watched. That wouldn’t go well.

He nervously chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah….me too.” His eyes widened at the realization of what he just said. “Oh! I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

You raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by his sudden panic. He just said he wanted to pop into your class as well. What was the issue?

“Uh okay. I’ll look forward to it.” You politely smiled.

Jungkook decided to stop this train before it crashed. “Pop into my class too. We’re doing pottery next week.”

“I’ll do that. I’ve never done pottery before.”

After a little more light conversation, your students began to enter the room, telling the men that classes were about to start. You bid them both farewell with a wave and a polite smile.

Even your smile was pretty…..

~

The next month passed by quickly. You had settled in nicely to the center, everyone had welcomed you warmly and praised you for offering such a wonderful class. You’ve even given a few lessons to some of the other employees.

And you actually did stop by in Hoseok’s class one evening after yours finished a little early. He was in the middle of running through a popping isolation when you quietly entered. He didn’t notice you at first, focused on making sure his students were following him closely. He also didn’t notice how your eyes ran up his tank top clad body, taking note of how his shirt stuck to him and highlighted each dip of his abs.

Hmm.

You stayed until he dismissed his class. A few of them politely bowed to you on their way out, filing out until you and him were the only ones in the room. He hadn’t noticed you yet, gulping down water with his head tilted back. Sweat dripped down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.

You waited until he had finished his water before you spoke, “nice work today.”

He startled. Well, more like jumped like he was being electrocuted, a small scream coming from him before he whipped his head around to see who had frightened him.

Once he saw you, he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. It was different letting Jungkook see him afraid but for you? Those were not the signals he wanted to be sending.

However, you didn’t laugh. You simply raised a perfectly done eyebrow and for some reason, he felt like that was even worse. He wished you would have laughed. Now it just felt like you were silently judging him.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to alleviate some of the awkwardness. “Hey. Um….what are you, uh, what’s up?”

“I was watching you teach. You’re really good and your students follow you well.”

That put a genuine smile on his face. He prided himself on being the best mentor for his students and having a wonderful relationship with them. They all ranged from a spectrum of backgrounds; single parents, autistic, recovering from injuries, and so many more. And he cared for and appreciated each one, his heart feeling warm at watching them grow and have fun. That’s why he loved what he did—to see others become confident in something they never thought they could do.

“Thanks. They’ve all improved so much. I cherish each one, one’s that have left us as well. I can only hope I’ve made an impact in them, no matter how small.”

“I’m sure you have. Just from my short time here, I can tell everyone adores you. You seem like a very warm person.”

He could feel the sincerity rolling off your tongue, his eyes finally stopping their nervous flickering to meet yours.

Wow. You were just….

“I can see that with you as well. Your class always looks so riveting and fun.”

“You’ve seen my class?” The corner of your lips quirked up, eyes lighting up with a curious glint.

Realization struck him, eyes widening to the size of saucers. “Ah! I mean….well, the glass, and the bathrooms are down that hall! I was just passing by.” He gesticulated with his hands, waving them around and amusing you so.

Cute.

Your little chuckle made heat rise to his ears, embarrassment eating at his stomach. He was totally blowing this! Hoseok didn’t consider himself the smoothest(obviously by how he was reacting to the short interaction) but he just knew he had more in him. He could do better but you were just scrambling his brain, making it hard for him to gather his thoughts. His family and friends would have laughed if they could see their talkative and optimistic Hoseok floundering like this in the presence of a beautiful woman.

Worrying his lip between his teeth, he contemplated asking you a question. One that could possibly make or break your small acquaintance but he felt like if he didn’t ask, he never would.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to say, “y/n, are you free tonight?” He held his breath, clenching his eyes shut and waiting for your response. Would you reject him? What if you already had a lover? What if you said yes?

After a few seconds, you answered.

“I’m not.”

Store that for his 3AM random depression parties where his brain reminded him of all of the failures throughout his life.

His shoulders slumped, letting out the breath he was holding. Humiliation immediately swallowed his small burst of confidence. Of course you weren’t free. Why would someone as gorgeous as you not have things to do?

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I have to work but I’m free tomorrow night if that aligns with your schedule.”

He snapped his head up so fast that his head could have come off.

You….what?

He must have said that out loud because you repeated yourself. “I’m free tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

Wow. He didn’t think he’d get that far so now he was blanking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish in a bowl.

“Uh….” (Speak idiot! She’s talking to you! She said yes! Ask her out!)

The confidence of his inner voice did not transfer to his outer. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that you actually accepted his date proposal.

After watching him buffer for a moment longer, you decided to speak up yet again. “How about you pick me up tomorrow at 7? Here.” You reached into your dance bag, pulling out a pen and a small notepad of sticky notes, writing something down on it. Putting the pen back, you plucked off the note and stuck it to his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That’s all you said before turning around to strut out of his studio. He pulled the note off his chest to read it, finding your phone number written in your pretty handwriting.

A date. He was going to take you out on a date.

He had to buy a new outfit!

~

Hoseok’s first date with you actually went better than expected. After pacing a hole in his floor, he texted you that next morning to confirm. Part just to let you know he was still very much interested and another part to confirm if you were.

He hasn’t been on a date in forever so he spent extra time getting ready, even FaceTiming his stylist friend for some pointers.

“You look fine, hyung. Black suits you(ha!).” Jimin reassured as he smoothed the mask over his face. Hoseok called him right in the middle of his million step nighttime routine. He cared about his friends but he’d be damned if he let their worries disrupt him from preventing wrinkles.

Hoseok didn’t believe it though which was kind of defeating the purpose of the call. “Are you sure? Is this material too basic? I have a black silk one too. Would that seem too pretentious?”

Turning on his humidifier, Jimin let out a sigh. “Yes it would. I’m telling you that you look great. It’s just dinner. You’ve already made an….okay first impression. I’m sure she won’t care that much about if you wear silk or cotton.”

Jimin’s inflection reminded Hoseok on just how anxious he was about this night. He was totally gonna blow it!

“You know what? I should just wear the silk one.” Rushing over to his closet, he began tossing all of his clothes out in search of the shirt.

“Isn’t it almost 7? You’re gonna be late.”

Hoseok’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, wrist flying up to check his watch. Oh shit!

“I gotta go, Jimin!”

Jimin waved, a chuckle shaking his body. “Good luck. Chew some gum.”

~

Hoseok exhaled a deep breath as he stood outside of your apartment complex. He had texted you about 3 minutes ago saying he was downstairs, only receiving a ‘be down soon’ from you in response.

He tried to settle his racing heart, constantly checking himself in his side mirror and gripping the flowers he got you tighter in his hands, the paper crinkling and filling his ears with static.

Why was he so nervous? Was it because he hasn’t been on a date in a while? Or because you were so gorgeous that it made him feel like he was going to combust at the thought of ruining this date? Perhaps both.

While he was busy fussing over his hair, he didn’t even hear the clicking of your heels against the pavement.

You didn’t immediately make yourself known to him, instead watching in amusement as he smoothed down his eyebrows and constantly ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look better. For some reason, you didn’t feel like he was vain. You actually thought he was quite adorable. Despite only knowing him in passing for about a month and hardly exchanging more than pleasantries, you found him very interesting and endearing. You could see his passion for dance, heard about how joyous and friendly he was to everyone, and witness stuttering and bashful side. You wanted to know more about him.

“Do I need to give you and yourself a moment?”

Scaring him was starting to become a little too common, much to his dismay. Was there no end to his suffering?

His body shot up rod straight, turning to face you.

“Ah! N-no! I was just….!”

This was the first time he heard your actual laugh, the music to his ears and the calm settling over the storm of butterflies in his tummy. What a delightful sound.

What was he so nervous for again?

Hoseok’s smile was winsome, lighting up his entire face and sparkling brighter than the streetlights that lined your block. As if the sun was shining in the middle of the night. It warmed your heart.

“These are for you.” He held out the delicately arranged bouquet.

Your eyes widened just a tad at the gift, pausing briefly. The slight hesitance brought his nerves back tenfold.

“Do….do you not like flowers? Are you allergic? Oh man, I didn’t even think about that! I’m sorry….I’ll just…I’ll-“

The feeling of your warm palm touching his hand made him freeze, his rambling stopping in his throat. Lifting his eyes, he was met with the gentleness of your almond shaped ones.

“No I’m not allergic.” You took the flowers from him, cradling them close and inhaling their floral perfume. “They’re beautiful, Hoseok. Thank you.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Fluttering eyelashes and a warm gaze met him, his heart thundering and ready to explode out of his chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered, flashing him a demure smile that could weaken anyone’s knees. “You look very handsome as well. I love your shirt.”

(Ha! I knew this shirt was the right choice.)

Exhaling a breath, Hoseok opened the passenger side door, holding out his hand for you to take.

And you did, your manicured hand sliding into his. He helped you into the car, making sure you were comfortable before closing the door. Rounding the vehicle, he jumped in and buckled his seatbelt, making sure yours was buckled too before starting the car and pulling off.

A comfortable silence settled in the car. Well, comfortable for you. Hoseok was almost pissing himself trying to think of a way to start conversation. The restaurant was only about 10 minutes away and the night was still young which meant there was plenty of time for you two to speak but still, he didn’t want to just sit in silence.

Ever so observant, you noticed his tapping fingers and shifting eyes. Some women would prefer a man who knew how to start and engage conversation at every moment but you were the type that didn’t mind taking the lead sometimes. Men got nervous too and not every man was the best at simple conversation which you acknowledged.

If anything, you found it sort of endearing.

“This is cute.” Pointing to the little air freshener that was clipped to the vents on his dashboard. It was a tiny horse character on top of a macaroon, a surprisingly cute addition to such a suave car.

Hoseok glanced to what you were talking about. His eyes widened, internally cursing himself for forgetting to take that out.

“Oh…uh yeah.” He swallowed thickly.

“Mang is my favorite character too.”

Okay, this had to be a dream. You were already too good to be true and he barely knew you.

“You like BT21?”

You giggled, opening your purse and digging around before pulling out your keys. The multiple keychains jingled against one another, filling the silence of the car.

Hoseok slowed down to a stop at a red light, taking this moment to turn and look at your keys.

He laughed when he saw the multiple colorful trinkets hanging from them; from an acrylic baby RJ to a snow jacket wrapped Koya, all the way to a dragon costume wearing Mang.

“Wow. You really do. And on another note, are you secretly a janitor with all those keys?”

Your hand reached out to push his arm as you both laughed. “Hey, I have you know each of these keys are very important.”

“Oh yeah?” He pointed to a random key. “What’s that one for?”

You studied it for a brief moment. “That’s uh….that’s for…” Tilting your head and furrowing your brows in deep thought, the key suddenly looking very foreign. Maybe if you act like you know what you’re talking about, you’d sound more convincing. “It…” You kiss your teeth before dropping the keys unceremoniously back in your purse. “It unlocks something.”

The belly laughter that left Hoseok was infectious, you joining in and filling the car with the cacophony of your joy. You two were so absorbed in one another that Hoseok didn’t even notice the light had turned green, the honk of a car behind him making him remember what he was doing.

Your body was slightly jerked back, your giggles dying down.

“Your janitor keys got us honked at.” Hoseok teased, glancing over at you again. It was hard not to when your face was so lit up, when your smile was so stunning.

You tsked playfully, waving your hand around. “Don’t blame my keys on your bad driving habits. That’s what you get for making fun of me.”

“Alright alright. I promise not to talk about your ridiculous amount of keys and keychains anymore……” You hummed, accepting his defeat and letting the car go silent again. “….unless we pass a school.”

“You know what?”

~

“My lady.” Hoseok held out his hand again to help you out of the car.

Playing along, you expressed, “Such a gentleman.”

After Hoseok gave his keys to the valet, he led you inside. You’ve never been to this restaurant before but judging by the interior and seasoned smells, you could tell you’d love it.

The host looked up from whatever he was doing at the podium, polite smile stretching across his face. “Ah, Mr. Jung. We were expecting you. Right this way to your table.”

Hoseok nodded, waving his arm to gesture for you to walk first.

You two were led to a table towards the middle of the grand space, soft piano music flowing and was that a waterfall wall? Wow, fancy fancy.

Hoseok pulled out your chair and waited for you to sit down before rounding the table to sit as well. The host gave both of you menus and informed you that your waiter would be with you shortly.

In prompt restaurant fashion, you both immediately opened your menus and scanned all of the choices.

“Have you been here before?” You asked.

He hummed. “I have. It’s one of my favorite places.”

Personally, you weren’t really the type to assume anything about someone’s dating life. Of course, sometimes that history could be useful to know since it could tell you how a person acts in relationships.

A part of you wanted to ask if this is his favorite restaurant because he brings many dates here but that was the kind of self sabotaging you were working on not showing.

“Well, it’s certainly a beautiful spot. Do you have any recommendations?”

It was like asking JLo about the imaginary block she claimed to spend her childhood on; his face brightening, head bobbing as he laid his menu out on the table to point to all of his favorites.

Honestly, you were only half listening to him, completely mesmerized by how adorable he was. Deep in your heart, you really hoped he would remain this way.

A few minutes more and your waiter came back with water, an appetizer that you don’t recall either of you requesting and to take your drink orders.

“Do you like wine? But we don’t have to drink if you’re not comfortable.”

Considerate: Check

“I’d love some. Thank you.”

“Red or white?”

Flipping your hair over your shoulder, you tilted your head, “surprise me.”

“Bring us a bottle of your finest Merlot.” The waiter nodded and wrote that down before asking if you were ready to order. “Yes. Bring us two of my usual please. Thank you.”

After the waitress left, you couldn’t help but wonder how well known at this restaurant he was to have a usual. He must really come here a lot or be someone important for the employees to know him. The host immediately knew who he was and they brought out an appetizer without either of you asking for it.

Your overthinking brain began to race; was this guy rich? Was he a celebrity? Would celebrities volunteer 3-4 days a week at a community center? While money and fame didn’t necessarily matter to you(to an extent), you couldn’t deny it would be a huge part of the relationship you might form with Hoseok.

(No! Don’t start that! Just be in the moment. Worry about all of that after this date), you thought. He’s already made a good first impression on you and there will still a lot of the date left. You shouldn’t judge him too early, especially when he’s done nothing that you would consider a red flag.

For now, you would get to know him better.

~

Conversation flowed seamlessly between the two of you. You talked like you were old friends, new information about each other storing itself in your memories.

You found Hoseok just as charming and happy as people described him. He shared your love of all styles of dance, specifically hip hop and street and you spun tales of some of the best years of black dance history; from the Cat Daddy to the Jerk and even the embarrassing year of the Red Nose. He listened with rapt attention, genuinely finding all of these dances incredibly interesting.

“It’s a scientific fact that you can Dougie to anything.” You informed before taking another bite of your side salad.

Hoseok chuckled teasingly with a light roll of his eyes. “I don’t believe that. I need proof.”

Pointing your fork at him, you dared, “Bet. When we have free time at the studio, I’ll prove it to you. The Dougie is never wrong and it’ll transcend time.”

“Yeah yeah.” He playfully dismissed. “Speaking of, how did you come to work at the community center?”

“One of my friends recommended I join. Her mother used to go there a lot for yoga classes. She said they’ve been looking for a new teacher and that I’d fit in with all my experience. And I wanted something to do on the days I’m not working.” Stabbing the last crispiest leaf of your salad, you brought it to your mouth.

“What do you do for work? I realized I never asked you.”

Maybe saving that piece for last wasn’t the best idea because you immediately choked on it. Hoseok made a noise of panic, grabbing your glass of water and giving it to you. Gulping down your water, you attempted to not look like you were close to dying which was harder than you thought since your diaphragm was seizing and attempting to take you the hell out of here.

“Are you okay?” He asked after you had cleared your throat and was now struggling to get that tickling feeling out.

Wiping your mouth with your napkin, you let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Uh, I guess it went down the wrong pipe.”

Those brown eyes were filled with worry but he took your word for it, relaxing slightly.

You cleared your throat again. “You asked about my job?” Your tone was confused, as if you were still trying to process the question and you definitely were.

He nodded though, not deterred in the slightest by your previous display. “Yeah. What do you do for work?”

(Think sis! If you hesitate too long, he’ll think something is wrong!)

Hoseok was truly a great person, so honest and joyous that you felt happy just being around him. Your attraction for him was truly deepening and your hope for a relationship was climbing.

But now that he’s grown curious about your job, you worried that you couldn’t be together.

“Um….I’m a…bartender!” (Yeah that sounded convincing, you mentally chastised.)

It must have sounded genuine because Hoseok took it really well.

“Wow really? That sounds so cool. Have you been doing it long?”

A gross feeling began swirling in the pit of your stomach, all the food you’ve eaten ready to come back up.

Every lie that fell off your tongue pulled that band tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.

However, you couldn’t tell him the truth. You couldn’t ruin this, not again.

~

Life following that first date continued normally but with the added sugar that was Hoseok. Outside of the studio, your free time was filled with cute dates; nighttime milkshakes because he couldn’t sleep, long walks along the river which included you almost falling in trying to catch your phone, and even a few movie nights at his place where you opened the world of Wayans Brothers movies like Dance Flick and Scary Movie.

Hoseok would often pick you up on his way to the studio, you always greeting him with some kind of wacky snack you found. Your recent discovery were special flavors of KitKats from Japan. His drives used to be so quiet but now he loved how you filled the silence with your music choices and endless stories about anything and everything.

Inside the studio, you two found time between classes to joke around or grab lunch. Sometimes you even tried to teach Hoseok how to pole dance, only for him to almost hurt himself trying to flip upside down without proper core strength. The way you babied him afterwards made the fall worth it.

And yes, you did prove to him that you can Dougie to everything! He took you out for crepes as a reward for proving him wrong.

“I can’t believe you just did that to classical music.”

“Believe it. And I like strawberry crepes.”

As your relationship flourished so did your nerves about lying to Hoseok about your job. The lie hasn’t come up many times since your first date but the few times he wanted to take you out on weekends, only for you to tell him you had to work made the guilt pile on higher. Seeing how deflated he got whenever you had to take a rain check felt like a punch to your gut. How long could you lie to him about this? Your grandmother always said what’s done in the dark will eventually come to light and you truly believed that. However, how could you tell him? What would happen if he found out days or when months down the line? His trust in you would surely be broken but you just didn’t have the heart to tell him.

You knew you were probably in the process of ruining a good thing for you but the fear of the unknown outweighed all of that. Your brain couldn’t even begin to overthink all of the possibilities and your late night mental breakdown parties seemed to be a lot more lively with the added nerves.

For now, you’d just try to enjoy the limited time you’d have with him and hopefully, the truth wouldn’t hurt too much.

~

When Hoseok’s friends suggested they go to a strip club as a night out, at first he rejected. Now that he was on the track of dating you, he felt like going to a strip club would be a bit like cheating. You guys weren’t official yet so it technically wouldn’t be, right? At least that’s the logic Yoongi used. Apparently, they had already reserved a section without telling him so now he couldn’t refuse. Should he tell you about it first? You told him you were working tonight and wouldn’t be able to talk much but he still sent you a text just in case.

Of course, you didn’t get it since your phone was locked in your locker and your attention was on making sure your lace laid down to withstand all of the sweating you would inevitably be doing.

“y/n! You’re up in 10!”

“Okay!” You called back, moving to put on your favorite platforms and give yourself one more look over in the mirror. “Alright, let’s do this.” You whispered to yourself before removing your elastic band from your hairline, laying down your edges to perfect before exiting the dressing room. A few other girls were all leaving the stage, holding bags with their earnings in them.

“Good luck, y/n. There’s some hot guys out there. One tried to give me his credit card.”

You and some of the others laughed. Honestly, people tried to hand you credit cards more than you’d think. One time, a lady gave you her house keys wrapped in her underwear and asked you to just “sneak in past the kids and husband”. Obviously, you returned all of her things to the friends she was with and wished them a safe travel home. You did not want to be the topic of conversation for her children’s therapy.

The lights dimmed and the DJ announced you next. Since you were the headliner and the most popular dancer of the club, you got solo stages whereas the other women normally had to go on stage 3-4 at a time. Solo stages meant more money and on a weekend like this, you’d probably be able to take a small vacation to relax.

Maybe you’d invite Hoseok too…..that fluttering in your tummy bursted tenfold just thinking about him.

“Welcome to the stage, y/s/n!”

The crowd cheered and the music started. Inhaling a deep breath, you began your ascent of the steps and to the main pole in the middle of the center stage.

Show time.

When Hoseok first laid eyes on you on that stage, he felt a combination of things—shock, desire, a little betrayed, and also a little spark of something else he couldn’t quite place. He just couldn’t believe that was actually you on stage. At first, he thought it was just the few drinks he’s had clouding his vision but once you stepped into the lights, there was no denying. That was definitely you up there.

His eyes, like many of the pairs of eyes here, were focused on your graceful figure as it circled the stage. Your body flowed like a vivid koi fish, velvety and poised. You were a picture of perfection—lovely and exquisite, you were.

Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, white platform heels with laces going up your legs were on your feet—your outfit comprised of a baby blue t-shirt styled crop top with a heart cut out to show the expanse of your cleavage. You also wore a matching pair of shorts that barely covered your plump ass along with 2 chains around your waist.

Even through his conflicting emotions, he couldn’t deny that you were the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in his life.

There was still things he didn’t know about you and that he wanted to learn but that was all part of the journey. He learned new things about you everyday and he wanted to know so much more.

This, however, wasn’t what he was expecting.

When your feet touched the stage, light grey hair whipping around making you look kissed by the moon, your cat like eyes met his—sharp and beguiling, calling him like siren….

He saw as your eyes widened, almost stumbling but luckily you caught yourself on the pole. However, you didn’t have time to panic. You couldn’t waste your turn so you pushed down that building anxiety and just started your routine.

You avoided eye contact with Hoseok the entire time, not even interacting with him when you crossed his group. You’ve worn tiny little dancing sets around him before but right now, you felt exposed and embarrassed. You two haven’t even kissed yet. Now you were practically flashing him and his friends were getting an eyeful too. You’d definitely wallow in your misery later.

After your set was over, you winked and blew a kiss to the crowd, absorbing the cheers. The lights dimmed and you crouched down to begin gathering your money. When you moved to the side of the stage where Hoseok’s group was, you dared to look up.

A gasp got caught in your throat when you saw Hoseok looking directly at you. One thing about Hoseok was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, you could see every emotion painted across his face.

And the main one you saw was hurt. His eyebrows were furrowed, pretty brown irises searching yours. That anxiety you had repressed earlier was starting to bubble back up, guilt making you feel sick.

You dropped your head, quickly gathering the rest of the money, you shoved it all in the bag, probably missing some but you didn’t care. You just had to get out of here.

Shame burned at your chest as you rushed back into the dressing rooms, ignoring the other’s praises and just hightailing it to the bathroom. It was empty, thank goodness, so no one could see you cry.

You had messed up. You lied to him, the first real connection you’ve had seen you moved here. Why had you lied to him? Now he knew and you were positive he’d never want to speak to you again.

Why would he? You were a stripper—you dressed in barely there clothing and danced for money. You didn’t necessarily feel ashamed of your job but it was different when it was just strangers knowing you vs people from your personal life. There was a lot of negative stigmas around your profession. Weird considering people filled clubs by the boat load and had no issue handing their money to the dancers. Then again, societal standards weren’t known for being very consistent.

But still, you didn’t want Hoseok to judge you because of what you did. He probably wouldn’t but your insecurities told you otherwise.

Wiping your tears, you went back to the dressing rooms, going to your locker. You unlocked it and began gathering your things, deciding to call it a night. You’d just tell your boss you started your period or something, he didn’t even know what an ovary was so you doubted he’d question you.

After changing out of your clothes, you bid the others goodnight, ignoring their confused looks and exiting through the back entrance. Your car was parked kind of far. You did that on purpose to prevent creeps from figuring out where you worked, you also often parked in busy garages just in case someone decided to follow you. It’s happened a couple of times and thankfully nothing has ever gotten physical.

You pulled your jacket around you tighter, the wind blowing a bit hard today and making your nose feel runny. You just wanted to go home and drown yourself in all of the snacks your dad sent you from America.

“y/n!”

You froze at the call of your name, recognizing that voice immediately. You couldn’t mistake that for anyone else.

A part of you wanted to run but you knew that wouldn’t be right. You were an adult and you needed to face your issues like one.

You slowly turned around, finding Hoseok jogging towards you. He looked so handsome. Too bad you’d lose him soon.

He stopped in front of you, breathing a little heavily from his small burst of exercise. Your eyes couldn’t lift to meet his, your waterline tingling as tears threatened to rise. Now that he was standing before you, nerves and shame engulfed your entire body. What would he say to you? Would he call you disgusting and demand you tell him why you lied? Would you tell you to lose his number and to never call him again? You don’t think you’d be able to handle that but you knew it’s what you deserved for lying.

“H-Hoseok….I…” You started but your throat tightened up as the reality of facing him began to settle. What could you even say? Nothing would justify you lying to him so it was best for you to just tell the truth and leave before you embarrassed yourself further.

“Why did you lie to me?”

There it was. Out of the billions of things he could have said to you, that was the one question you weren’t prepared for. Hell, you weren’t really prepared for anything at this point.

Swallowing thickly, you began, “Hoseok, I’m so….I’m so sorry I lied to you. It’s just…..I was scared of telling you what I really did because….I thought you’d think I was some kind of bad person.” That was putting it lightly. You’ve been called much worse than that.

He remained silent and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing but you figured you’d continue while you still had the “confidence”.

“To be honest, I’ve told the few people I’ve met before and they’ve always treated me like some sort of toy or they’ve acted disgusted by me.” Your body shivered at some of the disgusting things that have come out of people’s mouths when they found out you were stripper. You know your job was practically you sexualizing yourself but that didn’t mean you wanted it in a relationship. You were more than your job but a lot of people couldn’t see past that. “And I was scared that you’d do the same.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your eyes to lock with Hoseok’s. He hadn’t really made a move since you began talking, his own eyes still looking conflicted.

“And I like you so so much, Hoseok. You’re such an amazing person. Call it selfish but I just didn’t want to lose you. You’re the first person I’ve ever truly had feelings for and I wasn’t ready to let that go. And I’m so genuinely sorry that I lied to you.” You wiped your tears, averting your eyes once again because looking at him was starting to become too much. “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

A pause. A tension. A silence so thick that you could hear the blood rushing through your veins and your heart booming in your chest.

Hoseok truly didn’t know what to say to you. There were so many things he had questions about and so many things he wanted to say but his mind was still racing from all of the information he’s absorbed within this one night.

“y/n…..”

Clenching your eyes shut, you held your breath. Here it comes.

“Who says I don’t want to see you anymore?”

A gasp flew from your lips, your head snapping up to look at him so fast that your neck cramped a little.

You were sure your confusion showed clearly on your face, your eyes searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. Then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if he gave you a taste of your own medicine. You’d probably deserve it.

Yet that serene smile he sent you would make you believe anything he said.

“W-what?”

Reaching his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, he sighed. “Yeah sure I’m upset that you lied and yeah your job is definitely surprising but….” His eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you, full of adoration and sincerity. “I like you for you, y/n. You’re also the first person I’ve ever had real feelings for and I wouldn’t want to lose you either.”

He reached out to grab your hand, lacing your fingers together and bringing them up to place a kiss on the back of yours.

“You’re the perfect person for me. Your job is a little jarring but I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want to be with you. As long as you’ll have me.”

Doubt. That’s what you always felt as you walked in and out of relationships. You doubted yourself. You doubted others. You doubted if you even deserved a tender love, if you deserved someone to call your own.

But hearing Hoseok’s sincere words, feeling his soft hands, and gazing into his eyes, the only emotion could you feel was overwhelming relief.

You were so relieved.

You couldn’t stop the tears, leaning your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder to which he wrapped his arms around you and tightly hugged you.

“I’m so sorry, Hoseok.” You sniffed.

“I know. I accept your apology.”

He smiled as your body shook with tears. Truth be told, he had a feeling something was off. The way you’d slightly panic whenever he’d invite you somewhere on the weekend or how you’d quickly redirect the conversation whenever he’d ask you to show him your bartending skills. Something told him you were lying but he didn’t want to pressure you too hard. You were still in the newer stages of your relationship and he was trying to be careful about how he approached you. Whatever it is you were keeping from him, he assumed it was personal and that was okay.

While he wasn’t expecting this big of a discovery, he was secretly happy it wasn’t something completely out of pocket like you being a drug dealer or something. A stripper wasn’t that bad especially considering what you taught at the studio.

He did like you. A lot. You were joyous and funny and he loved spending time with you. Those feelings weren’t gonna go away just because of what you did for work.

After all of your tears had dried up and your sinuses had been blocked from the crying, you pulled away from Hoseok.

He smiled that bright smile and teased, “all done?”

Pouting, you nodded.

“Great. Now why don’t we get from the middle of the street because people have been staring at us weirdly.” He informed with a laugh which made your eyes widen, looking to the side to find a small group of people looking at you both.

Burying your head back in his neck, you groaned. Wow, you didn’t know if this night was getting better or worse.

Hoseok squeezed your hand again, your teary eyelashes fluttering at him and he gave you that wonderful smile.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Okay.” You dreamily sighed.

Hand in hand, you two walked away. Both from the pain and into the future where your lives would forever be intertwined.

[sanctus-ingenium]

I'd looove to hear a little about your worldbuilding process if you don't mind sharing. How do you go about it? I know you have shared in a few posts already but just wanna know moree. Also where did it all begin? What inspired you? (eating it all uppp!!!)

hi!! I know I wrote a big long thing like last year or the year before about the process to making a setting but I cannot be arsed to find it rn so here's some disconnected thoughts

Overall I don't really make Headworlds or Worldbuilding Projects the way a lot of people do (which is why u keep hearing me say 'setting' over and over) because mainly what I make are stories in the order of characters -> plot -> world. those three things have to serve one another in that order of importance, so the world itself bends to serve the narrative. for example, ultimately idgaf where the holy beasts' skeletons come from, that is not important because the beasts are basically just a big plot device to serve the story. i can make some post-hoc justifications for their existence (and i did) but at the end of the day it will not and does not matter how they work or where they come from. the world is full of mysteries that will never be solved because the characters are not in a position to solve them. aside from a single border conflict, the world outside the mezian empire is nebulous and unimportant.

I don't enjoy working in a world -> narrative order because what I want to produce isn't just a series of info posts or artpieces about a setting, but a closed and self-contained story which is the justification for the entire world's existence. Headworlds that are all world and no character don't interest me.

So basically in the process of worldbuilding, I have to serve the story. A while back I made a post about continental history around Inver, all these wars and occupations and schisms and so on. All of those exist solely to provide a particular political climate, justification for Aquitan's theocratic structure, and the spread of the southern church north into Inver. I already had the idea of this church, that it would be integral to the country as a main political faction, so now I have to figure out how it got there and the political ramifications of that. It's all worldbuilding for sure, but it's a support structure underneath the story about how that church eventually changes world history, because i wanted to write a story about a church lol.

I guess if I wanted to explain The Process for a world -> characters setting i'd just be giving you How To Write A Story 101 lol. But basically: I think of a concept which interests me (big mechs yay). Then I think of a conflict that might arise (where does the fuel come from? who controls that supply? what might that do to the concentration of power in this area?). Then I put a character in what I consider to be the most interesting position to observe the effects of this conflict (a knight, an enginesmith, an exile), and honestly the main plot generally writes itself after that. I extrapolate the hook from that.

In terms of characters, I try to avoid calling them 'ocs' because in my mind 'oc' tends to be a very static stand-alone thing. Like I couldn't make a useful ref sheet of my characters because they are all changed by the story. I couldn't say 'he has a carefree personality' because in a few chapters no he fucking won't. in the same way i struggle a LOT to talk about my Siren setting which as close to a specbio 'headworld' as i'm ever gonna get, because I am worldbuilding in vastly different time periods at once in a world which is always changing, i can't make a post about for example a map of Siren because that's just a map from one era, I'd need to make a dozen maps to show how things change, how time affects it all, etc.

Because nothing is ever static and everything is in flux, pretty much the only way I can handle a setting like this is, again, just to focus on a few small stories centered around a cast of characters separated by time (i have... 4 distinct stories in Siren. maybe more). this is actually a frustrating barrier to me sharing any information at all about this place lol i'm the struggler

Where did it all begin? When I was 11 I used to write stories in my copybooks in class. There has never been a time where I was not making stories and where my stories were not the only important thing at all to me, superseding literally everything else. I learned how to draw digitally in 2011 because I wanted to draw my characters.

What inspires me? Everything lol. I actually don't have time to Consume Media much, I struggle watching movies or tv and I mostly hate video games because I would much rather be productive and sitting and watching a screen feels like a waste of my time. but I like reading books because I can take them with me on my phone. I get ideas from all sources but mostly non-media sources, like obviously mythology but also my history with the church and my scientific education. Usually nonfictional sources interest me the most (i was going to write a whole story that was a post-apocalyptic plague plot based on canine transmissible venereal cancer haha and even to this day that's where "the Immortal Hound" title comes from, little easter egg in inver)

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

Stitches (Part II)

(Read Part I Here! used to be We Interrupt This Broadcast... changed the name because I feel like this fits better 😅)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Rosie, Ler!OC, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, very brief blood mention, medical themes (non-graphic & painless). And again, this is set right after Alastor gets his ass handed to him by Adam, so you can expect some angst (don't worry, he gets better).

If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige. 💕

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

"Almost ready" I said. "Basically finished" I said. Sorry y'all, the Chronic Illness Fairy struck. 😅 I will say this was my favorite part to write, but also the one I'm most uncertain about... bit more angst in this installment and I'm not much of an angst writer lol... but with Rosie in the mix (especially as a ler), angst never lasts long. 🥰

Also I changed the title. Hopefully it's not confusing that way... cuz without Part 1 this fic makes zero sense 😅

One last thing... I'm so happy y'all like Trudy! Was thinking about posting a lil sketch of her at some point (I need a new insomnia project now that this fic is done 😅). I've been having a truly awful few weeks on the anxiety front, so all the positive feedback on Part I has been quite literally making my days 💕

Hope you enjoy!!

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

"Ooh, you stubborn little bastard. You're still gonna refuse to laugh?" Rosie mutters.

Alastor doesn't dare try to speak. All he can manage is a defiant shake of his head.

"Look, my friend. If you 'don't mind a little tickling,' and getting all giggly is your specialty…" Rosie tweaks his bottom rib, eliciting a noise that comes just short of a squeak. "What, exactly, is the problem here?"

"I'm supposed to be in control!" he grinds out through his twitching grin.

"You are in control, sir." Trudy abruptly withdraws her hands, holding them up innocently. "You can tell me to stop at any time."

Alastor cringes. He was sorta hoping no one would point that out.

"Which is why I find it so fascinating that you haven't yet." A sly smirk creeps across Rosie's face.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"I- I'm humoring you!"

"Humoring me?" Rosie tilts her head. "My dear, I hope you're not doing this just for my sake. If you don't want Trudy to check for further injury-"

"No, I do! O-on my terms!"

"This is on your terms."

"Yes, but-"

"In fact, you insisted."

He stumbles again, before mumbling another meager, "…to humor you!"

Trudy shoots her boss a disoriented look - but Rosie, as usual, is hearing her friend loud and clear.

"Alastor." Rosie rolls her eyes, gestures for Trudy to step aside, and scoots over to place a hand on his knee. "Adam is dead. Everyone in hell thinks you're either succumbing to your wounds in some remote gutter or hiding in whatever alternate dimension you just spent the last seven years. You're not even 'on air'." She leans in. "You can drop the act for a moment, if it's what you need."

That certainly hits the mark. For the first time, Alastor's smile falters - not completely dropping, but certainly losing much of the strained quality it's had since he arrived.

"I wish I could, my dear."

Encouraged, Rosie continues. "Well, what's stopping ya? As much as I love spending time with Alastor the Radio Demon… if you wanna take this opportunity to let out whoever's underneath that effervescent grin of yours, you know we wouldn't mind."

Alastor swallows - and for the first time in a decades, Rosie finds his expression difficult to read. "Rosie, I'm afraid I can't really..."

"I mean, you've been holding that same silly show-host-smile for years! Don't tell me you've never gotten tired of it!"

"It's sewn on, Rosie."

"…What?"

He hesitates. "Let's just say today wasn't the first time I've been, ah... stitched up." As he speaks, he gestures to his toothy grin. And for once, there's not a trace of distortion in his voice.

Rosie's dark eyes go wide when she realizes what he means. The cannibal overlord just stands there for a beat, in an uncharacteristic moment of shock.

But, being Rosie, she quickly recovers. "Well, so what?"

"I'm just saying, I'm afraid I can't really drop the act."

"Nonsense! Since when has your act had anything to do with your face?" Rosie flicks her hand, as if brushing the thought aside. "Who cares if you can't show genuine Alastor. I wanna hear him."

"But my microphone..."

"You're doing just fine without it."

Once again, this attempt at reassurance only makes Alastor look more disturbed. "Th-this can't be me!"

"...Well, no. This right here sure isn't the Alastor I know. But…"

Alastor is barely listening to her anymore. His broadcast persona has been his sole identity since he was alive. Now his radio tower has been reduced to rubble, his microphone snapped clean in half, even his carefully-styled clothing left in tatters…

If this is the Genuine Alastor he's now stuck with - panicked, stuttering, weak - he can't imagine how he'll ever be able to face the rest of hell…

But these racing thoughts are once again interrupted by nails tracing up his sides. A sharp yelp cuts the air as poor Alastor just about jumps out of his skin.

"…Perhaps I can offer a little help?" Rosie suggests gently, once she has his undivided (and adorably flustered) attention. "On your terms, of course?"

Alastor just gazes back at her for a long moment. "What do you have in mind?"

"I happen to know something about you that even you can't fake."

The radio demon hesitates… before heaving a sigh and, to Rosie's surprise, giving a small nod of consent.

She breaks into a brilliant (and frankly terrifying) smile.

Before Alastor can brace himself, Rosie's hands have both found his sides and begun working into his waist. Having just watched him squirm around under Trudy's thorough probing twice (and adored every second of it), she already has a pretty good idea of where his worst spots are.

Which is made abundantly clear by Alastor's reaction. Within seconds he's gone from still trying to hold it all in by habit, to giggling into his hands, to cackling hysterically.

And it's the kind of laughter she's spent the last seven years missing. This isn't the confident, taunting chuckle he brings out for battles or brushing off rivals; this is bright, helpless, occasionally hiccuping laughter, the kind that is nearly impossible for him to stop once he starts - and the kind she only has the privilege of hearing when something truly amuses him.

"You can't sew your laughter on," Rosie reminds him. "This is all yours."

Rosie's fingers creep up under his shirt to scribble on bare tummy, adding a couple new sweet spots to her mental catalogue. This technique brings out even more of her favorite little quirks: the way he bats playfully (and completely ineffectually) at her wrists; his repeated attempts to speak around his laughter that only result in frantic spurts of incomprehensible, giggle-laced gibberish.

As she traces her nails across his lower belly she also finds a tiiiny layer of unexpected pudge. Which probably shouldn't surprise her - he's been out of the battle scene for seven years, after all. All those deer carcasses have to go somewhere.

Regardless, she finds it terribly endearing for some reason... and the surge of affection translates into a corresponding surge in the intensity of Rosie's tickles.

"AHaha! Ro- Rosie!" he blurts, his voice jumping a full octave higher than normal. "Stop!!"

Rosie removes her hands immediately. "Stop?"

"Aha- ah- well- I mean, er…" He stumbles breathlessly, and gives a sheepish cough.

"You didn't really want me to stop, did you?"

Rosie resumes with a chuckle, reeling herself in just a little. "How 'bout we say... oh... 'enough,' if you really want me to quit?"

Of course, she has to go and say it out loud.

"M-more of a reflehex..." he admits reluctantly.

Alastor tosses a shaky thumbs-up at her, already too lost in his own giggles to manage a verbal reply.

And he's gotta admit… Rosie was absolutely right. He wouldn't stop her right now for all the souls in hell. There's a reason Alastor has the most recognizable evil cackle of any other overlord. He can't help but find dissolving into laughter as cathartic and exhilarating as always - even if this time, it's not at some poor soul's misfortune. It's a result of his best friend's affection for her darling deer demon.

"As fun as getting your soft little belly is," Rosie muses, pausing to let Alastor catch his breath for a moment, "I can't help but wonder if you're ticklish anywhere else…"

Alastor may be off the air, but Rosie can practically hear the screech of microphone feedback just by the look on his face. "….I plead the fifth."

"Have you considered his ears?" Trudy pipes up shyly. While she'd managed to restrain herself behind an impeccably professional bedside manner earlier, it had taken everything in her power not to stroke Alastor's ears when she'd been close enough to do so. They were just. so. fluffy.

"Ohhh, heavens…" Alastor, for his part, curls in on himself at the mere suggestion.

Rosie grins. "Hey, 'no' is always an option."

A long pause. Alastor can't believe he's considering this. But the sensation of being tickled, as unbearable as it is, does feel awfully pleasant… and it's been so long since anyone has dared to touch him…

And what else does he have to lose at this point, anyway?

"I suppose if you're… very gentle…"

"Are you aware that your ears are the softest thing in the nine circles?"

This stipulation ends up backfiring. When it comes to his ears, gentle is worse. So, so much worse.

Poor Alastor is too busy clutching his stomach and snickering madly into his sleeve to reply.

"I should know, I work in retail. These right here-" Rosie traces her fingers down the feathery-soft edges, sending the radio demon into a new round of hysterics. "-Would fetch a pretty penny."

"They're nohot for saHA-ale!!"

"Nooo, I should say not." Rosie's hapless victim lurches back into the cushions as her fingers find the fluffy region at the base of his ears. Even without the microphone, his cackles have no problem filling the room. "You're the only demon classy enough to wear them."

"And don' you - GAHaha! - f-forget it!" He's so drunk on laughter now that he's beginning to slur his words. His careful elocution has gone the same place as his steady tone, and lack of stutter.

Luckily, he's also far too drunk on laughter to care.

...Right about there, Rosie notices that the faint hum of radio static in the air is no longer just in her head.

He is laughing his heart out for the first time in weeks. Genuinely laughing for the first time in decades. And laughing completely for himself, for his own enjoyment, without need for intimidation or control or image or audience, for the first time since long before he died.

While Trudy typically can't say much for her self-preservation instinct, she's got enough of one to feel hesitant joining her boss in tickling the most powerful overlord in hell (outside the pretense of medical intervention, at least). So she just stands back, watching fondly as The Most Dangerous Overlord This Side of the Pentagram utterly destroys the deer demon.

...At least, until she notices a flicker of green light out of the corner of her eye. Lying forgotten on the end table, the splintered ends of Alastor's microphone are sparking and crackling like live wires.

The surgeon creeps over for a closer look, staring in fascination. And then - just as Rosie gets poor Alastor behind the ears and delivers a scribble to his tummy at the same time - she ever-so-gently nudges the fractured ends closer to one another.

To her surprise, a bright green spark arcs clear across the gap. For a fraction of a second, the whole staff radiates a flash of a familiar green glow.

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

"Keep him laughing, Rosie," Trudy murmurs over her shoulder. It appears the Radio Demon's downfall will be nothing more than an intermission.

Thanks for being so patient with me y'all! Hope it was worth the wait 💕

💜- Cozy

[hhighkey]

Nanami Kento Headcanons

AGE GAP SERIES - GENERAL

f!reader

series: how you met,

the most perfect man

you’re a good amount of years younger than him let’s say between 5-7 years for our sake but i feel like you gotta be old enough to drink for this man to consider

be prepared to be courted

like properly taken out on dates, sent flowers, constant calls, and check-ins

you’ll never be left on the dark with this man

never opening a door around him i am convinced

i saw someone say he’d keep his hands on your waist as someone’s passing by to move you and ugh yes

lowkey dads you

will straight up scold you if you’re being a brat or doing something risky

sometimes he’s a little too mature for your liking, you’re upset and just looking for an argument and he doesn’t argue. he wants to communicate- you’ve never had that before and it’s foreign

he can be impatient about detrimental things, childish things, but he’s always patient with you

or tries to be patient… will always listen to you ramble and try to see it from your side. but he’s like wow that’s such an immature way of thinking and just has to deal with it

i imagine if you vape it pisses him off sm he’ll just rip it out of your hand and scold you idk why i had this thought

you’re literally his perfect girl

he adores you in every way

calls you dear and honey

always walks behind you when going up stairs so no one looks at your ass

always brings a jacket when you two go out, regardless if he needs it because you always do even when you insist you don’t

he’ll go to the bar with you and your friends ofc if you ask, but he’ll feel out of place. he’s more of the fine establishments type person where everyone’s dressed up and that’s where he’d prefer to spend his time off with you besides home

loves spoiling you

loves watching you get flustered as you’re not used to it- pretty jewelry and bags make you red in the face

you’re just always trying to tell him you don’t need all that stuff like you’re good!

friends joke he’s your sugar daddy (he borderline likes it too)

you’re a civilian as i can see him needing a constant to come home to

loves when you are just hanging out and you lay your head on his lap so he can play with your hair and keep you close

but that means you’re stuck worrying a lot

sometimes turns into him having to console you and support you over his career more so than anything else

which you feel so guilty but you’re too young to deal with the emotions and be able to set them aside to support him

but you try- like shoulder massages after a hard job, sitting with him in silence until he’s ready to talk

you see him all bloody once as he had a tough job, gojo got you from school (pls why do i see you being a grad student) or work

and you’re traumatized seeing him beat up like that- he’d wait days sometimes to see you again to rid of major injuries

you don’t know how to handle it. you don’t know if you can handle it but you love him

sometimes the age gap does take its toll on both of you

you still love going out, drinking, making dumb decisions not ready for the real world whereas he’s cynical about life, works tirelessly

i would say that’s where all the arguments stem from

his frustration with your actions and lack of care towards yourself. you can barely cook to save your life, you hardly do laundry, and you’re deathly hungover when he wants to get breakfast

why doesn’t he want to get black out drunk with you? he doesn’t want to go to girls night? or why is he still at work late? you’ll blame gojo for that one

it probably forces y’all to sit down and really talk about what you both want out of the relationship

which is each other

i wanna write so much age gap stuff for him

nsfw

dom! pleasure dom like always complimenting you and singing you praise about how good you feel

if he’s your first- he’ll take that very seriously

gentle with you like you’d break in his arms

walks you through everything he’s doing

preps you so perfectly, making you finish with his tongue before he even touches you, is very big on foreplay always

is more for your pleasure than his own

large :)

stretches you out, your gasping for him as you grasp his biceps

calls you princess in bed

“such a good girl.”

“so tight for me.”

“you like that?”

“feel so good around my cock.”

“c’mon princess, come for me.”

teases you so much, has you begging for him to fuck you, touch you, let you finish

king of aftercare with baths and cuddles aw

[britany1997]

Hi

It’s been awhile

I wanted to pop on real quick, offer an explanation and answer some questions for y’all (assuming y’all haven’t forgotten about me in the past two months lmao) after I post this I’m hoping back off again.

First of course, I’d like to thank y’all for over 1000 followers and over 1,100 notes on If You Give A Vampire A Cookie… it’s good to know people still enjoy my work.

Anyway, recently I’ve been taking my mental health more seriously. I’ve been working through some stuff in therapy (yay therapy!) and I’m slowly getting better. That being said, tumblr really isn’t the best place for me, mental health wise. Unfortunately it feeds my need for external validation in a kind of unhealthy way, when I don’t get it, I feel empty, or like I’m not enough. Tumblr also feeds my people pleasing tendencies, I find it really hard to say no (even to requests I genuinely don’t want to write) and I find it hard to set boundaries, I’m working on that, but you’ll need to be patient with me. Right now I’m working on putting on my own oxygen mask before putting on anyone else’s.

That being said, here are some answers to some questions you may have:

Am I coming back anytime soon?

No probably not. Aside from my mental health stuff, school is crazy right now, even harder and more involved than last year. I don’t have the time or motivation to write and I don’t know when I will again. Sorry.

Am I coming back ever?

Yes, I plan to. My stories need endings. I still have lots of plans for things I haven’t finished, especially for Fate Yields For No One. I do plan to return for writing, but I can’t give you a date or time on that right now. And when I do come back, it won’t be in the same way as before. It’s not good for me to be on here as constantly as I was. I like writing, but I like living in the real world more. I hope you can understand.

While I wait, can I run your stuff through AI?

Abso-fucking-lutely not. If you do, I will find out, and I will block you. No exceptions. I’m giving my adamant and express negative consent. Don’t fucking do it.

When will requests open again?

Not for a long long time, maybe never. When I do return to writing, I wanna focus on writing the stories I wanna write. I plan on finishing the requests I have already (from July I think, but nothing after the last time I opened them. If requests are closed, they’re closed) and finishing the stories I’ve started. Anything else is gonna come from my brain.

Am I ok?

Eh kinda, but I’m getting better and that’s what matters. 

Thanks❤️

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Letters to Santa - (Dad!Steve Harrington x Reader)

Letters to Santa (Rated G)

Pairing: Dad!Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: None; Just fluffy Christmas fun with the kiddos again!

Summary: For Stevemas; It’s Christmastime again and the girls are around five years old now. When you and Steve try to start writing letters to Santa, little Amy refuses. What’s threatening your family’s Christmas cheer and is there anything you can do to save the holiday?

“Alright, squirts,” Steve said as leaned down to be eye-level with the twins. “It’s time!” He braced his palms against the rough fabric of his Levi’s and stared into the bright eyes before him. Even though they were about five years old by now, the idea of how tiny they once were still blew his mind. 

Little Emery was his spitting image as she clasped her hands together. Her light brown copper curls bounced in excitement as she tilted her head side to side. Her lighter-haired sister, Amelia, was more subdued with her questioning look. She had gotten most of her mannerisms from you, Steve swore. Unlike her twin, Amy left her hands in her lap and merely peeked up at her father’s brown eyes. 

His beautiful little girls, who were growing up way too fast. They had just started preschool this September, which, while it allowed both you and Steve to return back to work, it broke his heart to have to drop them off at the classroom every morning.

“Whatsit time for, daddy?” Em asked, question mixed with giggles which stemmed from Steve’s exaggerated look of surprise. 

“Well, Emmy,” he replied with an air of mischief to his tone, “I’m so glad you asked. It’s time to write our letters to Santa!!” 

The loud gasp that filled the room soon after was music to Steve’s ears. Em began bouncing excitedly against the old sofa cushion. She all but threw herself at her father, which caused Steve to quickly wrap his arms protectively around her small form. Ever since the two of you began the tradition with your daughters, Em couldn’t wait for it. When you would sit with the girls on your nights off of work, she would crowd around the toys section of the paper and ask you to cut things out here and there. Steve was pretty sure that Santa was really going to have his work cut out for him this year. 

Thank the North Pole for his little helpers. 

Amy had shared her twin’s excitement the last two years. When she broached with the activity now, her eyes dulled and went back to watching It’s A Wonderful Life on the television set. It was almost as if she wasn’t interested…but that’s not possible, is it?

“C’mon Amy,” Steve tried to coax his girl into his only other free arm. “Don’t ya wanna write a letter to Santa? Tell him what you want this year?”

To his surprise, Amy only shook her head. “No thank you,” she mumbled, eyes still transfixed on the television. What kid didn’t want to write a letter to Santa asking for new toys? 

“Are you sure?” he tried again, adjusting Em to rest against his hip. The darker-haired twin was still bouncing with excitement, chubby hands grabbing at his shirt. “How else is he gunna know what toys to bring ya?”

“I don’t want anything.”

Now this was concerning. It was one thing to not want to write a letter, but not wanting anything for Christmas? That’s when Steve started to panic. Was it something the two of you had done? Did he say something to upset her about Christmas? Sure, you had been heatedly discussing the financials for the rest of the year, but you had made a promise to always set aside some money to give the girls a good Christmas. He had thought the girls were sleeping at the time. Was it possible Amy had overheard? 

Desperate for a second opinion, Steve tried a different approach. “Alright,” he relented. “But how about you come to the kitchen with us anyway? Maybe we can have some of Auntie Robin’s christmas cookies before dinner. It’ll be our little secret, but you’ll have to eat it in the kitchen, okay?”

After promising to not tell you about the great cookie heist plan, Amy reluctantly agreed to trail behind him into the kitchen to where you were waiting. You looked up from your spot at the kitchen table and nearly melted at the sight. Steve was obviously vying for the Father of the Year title with one child on his hip, the other delicately holding his hand while walking beside him. 

“Who’s ready to write to…Santa?” you asked excitedly, trailing off a bit when you noticed your husband’s subtle shake of the head and glance at Amy. 

“ME!” Em squirmed to be let out of Steve’s grip. He obliged rather quickly, depositing her in the seat across from you. Your dark-haired daughter’s legs kicked happily against the wooden legs as she reached for a pen. 

“Hold on a second, Emmy bear,” Steve cautioned, being careful to push the pens just out of reach. As she pouted, your husband glanced over at you with a worrisome look. The silent question reverberated off his face: can we talk?

As you made your way into the hallway, Steve made quick work of swiping two cookies for your girls before following you out of the room. As he stood before you, you knit your brow together. “What’s going on?” you asked. 

“Amy doesn’t want to write a letter to Santa,”  your husband blurted out. 

You felt your eyes widen in shock. “What?!”

“I don’t know why! And when I asked her how he was gunna know what she wants, she said she didn’t want anything!” The sheer panic was evident in Steve’s voice. Almost instantly you understood what was going on in his mind. It may have taken you a few years to understand his quirks, but now that you knew them, it was like reading a far-more-intricate picture book. The last thing he wanted was for his kids to resent Christmas as much as he did as a kid without a real family. 

You placed your palms against his sweater sleeves and rubbed soothing circles into the soft fabric. “Baby,” you said, “it’s going to be okay. One letter does not mean she hates Christmas! She was excited about it the other day.” 

“What happened then?” Steve fretted. “It took us so long to convince her the tradition was real. What did we do-”

“We didn’t do anything!” you tried to snap him out of it. “At least, I don’t think so. Why don’t we just, I don’t know, ask her what’s going on instead of trying to understand a four-year-old on our own?”

“Right…right. That…would probably make more sense.” Steve poked his head into the kitchen. “Hey Amy, honey, could you come out here for a minute?”

The house was silent for a moment before you heard the small pitter-patter of tiny feet crossing through the kitchen. A minute later, Amy stood before you, cookie crumbs still apparent on her face. You had to fight the urge to smile at her sad pout. “Yesh, daddy?” she asked Steve.  

Without another word, you scooped up your precious growing girl into your arms and sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Daddy was just telling me you don’t want to write to Santa this year,” you explained. “Do you not know what you want to say to him? Because we can always wait a few days, bean.”

Amy shook her head. “S’okay,” she said. 

You frowned at Steve over her head. This did seem weird. Not even three days ago, you had overheard her talking to Em about their letters to Santa. You were pretty sure she was going to ask for a new doll…or a puppy. Only one of which would even be able to happen, thanks to your and Steve’s hectic work schedules. This new attitude toward the task was the ultimate switch. “Did something happen?” you didn’t want to press her, but her outlook was concerning. 

There was a long moment of silence as your daughter squirmed uncomfortably in your lap. She appeared to be contemplating something, which was impressive for a four-year-old. “Tyler said Santa’s for babies,” she spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “And that he’s not real.”

Steve met your gaze for a moment over your daughter’s light-haired head. This was what was bothering her? “Why’s it Tyler says Santa isn’t real, bean?” he asked softly. 

“‘Cause he hasn’t seen ‘im.”

 “Well, just because you haven’t seen something,” you chimed in, voice gentle as a summer breeze, “doesn’t mean it’s not real.” 

Your husband nodded in agreement. “Yeah, just because you haven’t seen Uncle Dustin in a little while doesn’t make him less real, does it?” 

You felt your body relax at the mention of your little brother. Dustin was Amy’s own personal hero, who had recently abandoned her by choosing to study in New York at Columbia. To say you were proud of him would be an understatement. Ever since he was a kid, he had big plans of making an even bigger discovery. This was his dream and you couldn’t be any happier for him. Needless to say, though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t frustrated about the cost of your phone bill because of his long conversations with his niece…and your husband. 

Amy considered her father’s response. “No…” she relented quietly. 

“Well now, see?” You encouraged, lifting her a bit to be standing in your lap. “Tyler just doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I guess so,” the lisp in your daughter’s voice melted your heart. 

“How about…” Steve said as he reached over to steal her from you. “We write Santa the nicest and most specialist card he’s ever gotten. Who knows? Maybe he’ll write back!”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Really?!” she asked. 

Your husband nodded, determination glittering in his honey-brown eyes. “Mhm,” he said with a hum. “Then you can show it to Tyler when you go back to school, yeah? Wouldn’t that be something?!”

You have never seen your quiet daughter’s head bob up and down that fast. “Yeah!!” As soon as Steve set her down, Amy made a beeline for the kitchen table, already babbling to Em about her new master plan. 

“I knew it was a bad idea to send her to preschool,” Steve muttered to you while you both attempted to stand up again. Turns out getting older and having children made even the simplest of tasks more difficult. “Gets exposed to a punk like Tyler and-”

“Steve,” you interrupted him. “It’s one kid. We can’t hide them from the world forever.”

“I know, I know. I just- maybe until they’re old enough to go into kindergarten? I could switch my shifts around with Keith, be here more during the day-”

“HURRY UP, DADDY!” You nearly laughed at the impatience in Amy’s tone. Once she made her mind up on something, there was no stopping her. “WE GOTTA WRITETA SANTA!”

You stood on your tiptoes and placed a kiss against Steve’s cheek. “It’s going to be fine,” you promised. “We just have to let them grow up a little while still keeping the magic alive. I’ll take care of the girls. You go set up the special Santa mailbox outside.” Before you took another step, you appeared to reconsider. “Actually, on second thought, I’ll do that so you don’t break a finger again.”

“It was one time!!” Steve defended with an unwilling smile. As he turned to go back toward the kitchen, he caught you making a face in the corner of his eye. He shook his head in amusement before he stepped into the next room. He knew the rest of the evening would be exhausting, trying to stop the girls from fighting over which pen they could use, making sure no papers were ripped…but he wouldn’t change anything about it. 

His girls deserved the world, especially on Christmas. He just needed to get a little more creative on how to bring the Christmas spirit into their lives…

…lucky for him– and Amy– he had just the right idea.

============

Author’s Note: We’re back everyone! So sorry for the delay in posting Stevemas fics. Yesterday was particularly crazy for me and I learned that Tumblr was munching on posts. Hopefully it doesn’t happen with this fic. Amy and Em can’t wait to see you all again soon!

If you enjoyed this story and want to see more like it on my blog, make sure to leave a comment, tag a friend, and reblog this post. While likes are appreciated, its interactions like these that help spread the word about my writing and motivate me to keep writing for you all! Also, so you don’t miss an update, maybe give my blog a cheeky follow. I promise I won’t spam you with too many fandom rants and posts (except other amazing writers’ works).

Until next time, my little sparks <3

Tag list: @bakerstreethound

[yorshie]

Stupid little snippets/conversations

Will probably add to this as they are created. The closest to NSFW writing I have on tumblr. This is basically crack stress relief for me so beware of suggestive jokes and... well - the sillies *shrug*

Didn’t think I needed to add this because grown ass men walking around in cgi grey onesies but my bayverse writing is based in the current year so 24-25 people that’s the turtle age range

——————————————

Donnie spies you walking by with a grape flavored icicle: Hey! Those were for the party!

You paused, leaned against the door jam of the lab, and gave the little sugary treat a healthy slurp: yeah? What you gonna do about it, Pop Tart Licker?

Donnie remains frozen for half a beat, mentally processing the dare, before he’s on his feet, tools thrown to the wayside: “Oh I’ll show you ‘Pop Tart Licker'.”

You tear off cackling through the Lair with an irate Donnie on your heels.

———————————————

Leo was trying to ignore you. He was succeeding in ignoring-

Your foot slipped, sneaker popping a squeal on the freshly cleaned floor, and his shoulder twitched.

"Wow, that would have been bad." you no doubt thought your whisper was quiet enough to escape detection, but his head tilted.

“If you make one more noise, I’m going to sit on you.” He threatened, low voice carrying across the lair

Silence for a moment, then-

“Have you ever heard of the expression ‘don’t tempt me with a good time’?”

———————————————

Raphael: so we’re gonna start with the bench, move to flys. Hit biceps and triceps, and finish with abs

You *looking up from a package of powdered doughnuts* : what?

———————————————

You and April, *chilling, watching the turtles and Casey devolve into man children over sports*

April, *gesturing to the group*: hey. How does that work?

You, *sipping a soda*: hm? What? What work?

April, *gesturing with both hands now*: that. Them. How does that-

You, *cutting her off*: oh. No. No, you don’t wanna ask that

April, *after a moment*: who has-

You, *cutting her off again*: no, no don’t ask that either.

April, *mentally calculating*: why?

*You take the time to slowly tighten the cap on your soda, set it aside*: you really wanna ask that?

April, *eyeing everyone cheering around the tv again for a long moment before setting aside her own drink*: no. No. You’re right. I don’t.

———————————————

You: and then she died

Mikey, *sobbing quietly*: and then she died?

Donnie, *sitting on the bean bag next to the two of you*: I am never asking you two to watch movies I have yet to see with me ever again.

———————————————

*Leo and Donnie sitting across from you at the table*

Leo: we need to know, baby. Just choose, we won’t get mad

Donnie: whichever one you want, love. No tricks, we promise

You, *staring at the offered mugs of tea and coffee in front of you* : oh no.

———————————————

[sutekh94]

Hoooh boy do I have some thoughts about Cohost shutting down.

I've been working on this post for a few days, letting thoughts simmer enough to be presentable enough, so… here goes something!

Yeah, I'm sad about that. Not surprised that it happened, but still sad. Cohost had a good philosophy behind it, wanting to build a social media platform without much of the usual trappings, and I appreciate all the work its creators, Anti-Software Software Club, put in to make that philosophy real. And it was real, if only for a couple of years. I'm so glad my art found an audience there, even getting a few lovely comments. I feel bad for everyone who set up shop there who now has to scramble towards other platforms to host their stuff on. I can understand why some people decided they were finished with social media after the site announced they were gonna shut down at the end of 2024.

I really wish Cohost succeeded as a social media platform.

And I will miss it.

All that said… (here come the controversial takes)

I don't hold much sympathy for its staff and ASSC. It really felt like they had no business sense nor did they want to have any business sense. That showed especially in how unprofessional some of their financial updates - and lack thereof on occasion - were. Casually saying "oops I forgot to do the update for X month" despite further funding for the site hinging on regular posting of said updates, acting all "we're your friends!!!" at times, and so on. Then there were things like the eggbux debacle, ASSC thinking they were gonna turn Cohost into a Patreon competitor without having the knowledge or resources to do that, Stripe policies aside. I'm aware that was one of ASSC's original goals for the platform, but still. I gotta factor in some of the monumental moderation fails the platform's had, including the Nazi incident. Their policies regarding generative "AI" - seriously, not blanket banning generative "AI" was asking for trouble. Oh, and an aura of negativity and toxic positivity that pervaded the place partially because of that inadequate moderation, and partially because that's what Cohost's culture was like to an extent. Still, my Discord server has more moderators than Cohost ever had - three, myself included, compared to one. That's comparing a platform with about 130 users (I'd say 12-15 of them are active and posting on the server) as of the time I'm writing this against a platform with over 25,000 users at the time of the shutdown announcement.

This might seem harsh considering Cohost's staff were known users and public faces there. I don't know any of them personally. I don't wanna pretend like I do. But I also don't wanna pretend like ASSC could do no wrong and Cohost was some heavenly paradise. One of the most popular posts on the site in its final months, at least regarding the number of comments and responses to it, was "Cohost So White", a lengthy timeline detailing some of the most notable moderation fails and racist incidents that've occurred on the site over its history. Much of that negativity I mentioned earlier stemmed from how bigoted and racist chunks of the userbase could be - and the times that was left unchecked until staff was bullied into removing offending posts and banning the people behind them. Remember the Nazi incident I mentioned earlier?

In short, a Nazi made a Cohost account to stalk and harass a Jewish person there. The Jewish person tried reporting the account, posting evidence of the Nazi's behavior off-site, and Cohost staff… did nothing about it initially because "they've done nothing wrong on Cohost so far" or words to that effect, causing the Jewish person (among others) to almost leave Cohost. Staff was then bullied into banning the Nazi and afterwards said things like "we're bound to screw up on moderation decisions every now and again". There's more to the Nazi incident than that, but I don't want this post to be entirely about that. Still, I get it. Moderation is tricky. People make mistakes. But that was an egregious moderation failure that should never have happened.

Disregarding all that, Cohost had this feeling of a group of friends creating a social media platform for themselves, their friends, and friends of friends, but it never grew out of that hobbyist mindset. Cohost felt like a very anti-social place more often than not. Discoverability was always spotty. Tag shotgunning was common especially for artists like me wanting to have as much reach as possible. The only major attempt to make discoverability better IMO, tag synonyms, came in too late to be relevant. Needed and welcomed, but still. Same for certain changes to moderation policies - the "missing stair" policy and so on, even if I feared they could've been weaponized against fair and civil criticism of the platform.

This is a personal thing, but I never gelled with the site's culture. I was mainly there to post my art; the site being NSFW/18+ friendly was a huge reason why I joined, and to its credit, Cohost never lost that particular quality throughout its existence. I didn't interact with people much there, and venturing outside of my carefully-curated feeds, both main and bookmarked, could feel as draining as doomscrolling on Twitter. Almost like Twitter's negativity sort of migrated over to Cohost and became integrated into Cohost's culture. Again, I'm not saying the entire platform was like that, just that the negativity sometimes drowned out all the shitposts and CSS crimes and whatnot.

Don't get me wrong. Cohost shutting down is a loss for the Internet as a whole for reasons I explained up top. I'll always appreciate it for what it tried to do and all the good it managed to do over the time it existed. I don't wanna walk away feeling like I'm blindly bashing on it with a sledgehammer or, worse, celebrating its downfall with a bag of popcorn in hand. It's just… Things could've and should've been so much better. There were more than enough misgivings on ASSC's behalf that didn't help matters. That's really why I'm sad yet not surprised about Cohost shutting down. Cohost deserved better. Much better.

The reason why I've been so critical about Cohost is… I give a shit. It's clear I'm passionate enough about Cohost to say what I said here. I genuinely wanted things to be better there. If I truly didn't care, this post wouldn't exist, and it's possible I never would've given Cohost a chance in the first place. Regardless, the fact that so, so, SO many people are sad about it shutting down speaks volumes. I enjoyed my time there despite all its faults, but that doesn't mean I could act as if those faults didn't exist. My personal experiences with Cohost weren't everyone's personal experiences.

I'm aware that places like Pillowfort have some of the same problems Cohost had, namely an uncertain financial and long-term future. It's why Pillowfort and other small platforms need support now more than ever, and I'm glad to see that some of Cohost's userbase has migrated over to Pillowfort. Unless you're gonna bail on social media entirely after Cohost shuts down (again, I don't blame you for wanting to do that at this point), you're best off diversifying where you post, especially if you're an artist and/or a writer. If you can spare the money, you should send a few bucks towards these smaller platforms to help keep them afloat. At any moment, that smaller platform you've made a home on can just… shut down one day, planned or not.

[chuwuyas]

about c&r

Hello my dear saioumers, it is I, jul chuwuyas. I wanted to stop by to talk a little bit about c&r since people ask me about it a lot

Unfortunately, to talk about it, I will have to dive into some personal stuff and share some things with you all that I've been keeping to myself for quite some time now and didn't really want to share, but felt like I needed to. So, since some stuff will be kinda, uh... serious? I will put everything under the cut

(TL;DR for those who don't wanna read about my personal life tho: c&r is NOT abandoned, but writer's block is not the only reason why I haven't updated the fic yet (tho it is one of them). I don't know when the hiatus will end. I'm sorry)

(CW for the things under the cut: mental illness, pet death, suicide ideation)

So, to start: yes, writer's block is one of the reasons why c&r is on hiatus. No, I have not been lying about it. I burned out so badly in 2021 that it's Still hard for me to write things that satisfy me because I reached my peak back then and was popping out 5, 6 fics in a month for 7/8 whole months when my usual is/was about 2 or 3 a year (if you check my ao3 page and the dates in which my fics were posted, you'll see that aside from the danganronpa fics, that usually was the case. I'm a slow writer). I'm still recovering. And the universe seems to not want me to.

Last year, around January, I felt like I was finally setting myself free from writer's block. I started writing something for my oc ship (yes, yes, I know. Not c&r. But what can I say? They bring me comfort) and I was so happy with what I got, so inspired to write, I was actually seeing the words on the doc again.

Then, one of my three cats got sick. Then, he died.

It completely broke me in a way I don't think I will ever recover. I was extremely attached to him and I drained all the money I had saved for therapy to try to save him, but it didn't work and I lost my cat, the money, and consequently my mental health. We spent almost an entire month taking him to the vet and bringing him back home because the vet kept telling us he was okay and then he'd get even worse and need hospitalization again, so that was more money spent on him. I had my friends help me with that, and I am immensely grateful even though it didn't work out in the end. Thank you for helping me bring him some comfort on his last days @ friendos.

After he died, a couple of months later, I tried writing again and managed to write a few thousand words, but my mental health still wasn't the best. Then, I started getting some personal problems that I will not talk about here but took a toll on me and shoved me back into the writer's block box, but now with the addition of increasingly growing self-doubt and depressive thoughts that soon turned suicidal.

Then, around September, another cat of mine got sick. And, this time, we didn't have money to help him.

He was my best friend. We basically grew up together (he was 13 and was born when I was 11, so I had him longer than I didn't have him) and I was also extremely attached to him. When he got sick, I would sit down on the floor and talk to him in tears asking him to hold on just until I got a job so I could pay for his bills. I didn't get a job fast enough to help him. It was me who found him, too.

From August to November, things were so bad in my life (between my personal life, my pets' deaths, and family members getting sick) I genuinely caught myself considering ending my suffering. Planning it. Thinking about it every day. Not wanting to wake up. It was a rough period of my life that I made it through alone because I didn't really tell anyone what was going on with me. I wished I could go back to the past. I wished I could change things to make the future not so bad. I'm still caught up in the past and nostalgic for a time that will not come back no matter how much I wish it would. But I pushed it through.

And one of the things that kept me from ending it all was the fact I haven't finished c&r yet.

I didn't wanna go without concluding the story. I didn't wanna go without showing you all what I have planned for the last chapter and how this story will end. So, I started using c&r as some sort of anchor — something to keep me going because I still have something to do on this earth before leaving. I love this story and I don't wanna leave it unfinished. I wanna see your reactions reading the last chapter, the freaking out, the key smashes, the DMs I'll receive, the theories, the fanarts. I love how big this story got and the little fandom it got for itself. People love something that I wrote so much they make art of it! They cosplay the characters, they write things based on it! It's so mindblowing that something like this would ever happen to me, I started telling myself: I can't die until I finish catch & release.

My mental health is way better now and I'm no longer considering suicide (though, ough, it sucks not having a lot of money). I have a job now and can pay for the vet in case my last cat gets sick. My personal life is good now, too, and my relative who's sick is doing a lot better. I have things to look forward to. Things are good now. I'm happy, though I still miss my cats every day.

I am, however, still using c&r as one of my anchors, and I don't know when I will stop doing so. So, for now, the fic is still on hiatus. But it isn't abandoned, and it will never be. I will finish it one day. So, until then, keep bearing with me.

Thank you for reading, and most of all thank you for understanding. I love you all.