#yes me the weirdo reblog something

[sysig]

An ask! Idk what to talk abt though. How are you? What you want more asks abt? Characters? Life? Some other obscure interest?

(In reference to this I think hehe)

I'm doing well, thank you! I hope the same for you!

As for asks I'd like, I'm up for pretty much anything! If there's something that piques your interest - a take I put out but didn't elaborate on, "Defend that argument!" Lol ♪ I've also had people ask how I do certain things which is always fun to explain :D

Emoji gifts/silly back-and-forths are always fun to doodle to as well! ♫

Or if there's a fandom I haven't posted in a while and you miss it - I have no idea how many fandom transitions people here have hung with! Even if it's been a while, I still love my blorbos hehe ♥

Becoming a psuedo-ask blog with my characters answering directly is still totallly on the table btw :) Something remind you of me/them? Interest!

And while it's not quite Requestober-time-of-year again, next month is the start of when you should be thinking up what you might want 👀

I'd just like to chat! :) Asks are such a casual way of interacting, I like them :D

[petrichorvoices]

we finally caught up on WTNV

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[dolliestfairy]

𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝐹𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑦 ❁ ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ ࣪✧ ،

Fluff Billy Loomis, Jason Voorhees, Michael myers, Jennifer check headcanons with Chubby!fem!reader who is a Flower Fairy ʚ(❛▿❛❁)ɞ

𖧷 Warning : Killing, Disembowel, Slaughtering, Killing in Public, Overprotectiveness, Mocking/bullying, maybe some misspelled word and yeah thats it.. i think. lmk if i miss anything. Reader Skin Color Is Not Announced

𖧷 A/N : Just taking a break yesterday, and now i'm writing again. hope you like it. and please give me reblog and feedbacks if you enjoy my writings :)

Enjoy Reading My Fairies ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ ࣪ ،♡ 🧚🏻‍♀️

𖧷 Billy Loomis

• He freaking love about the opposite vibration you both gave to each other

• would kill for you, not definetly, but obviously.

• first time he know that you're a no human he kinda freaked out a little bit

• he doesnt want to admit this but he really think that you're a cool person.

• you can grow flowers and nature and leaves and bla bla bla, thats freaking cool yk..

• would try to keep the secret that you're a fairy,

• although sometimes he cant help but let a few words about you leave out of his mouth making his buddies confused.

• but overall he really loves you and ESPESSIALLY the curves of your body... chefs kiss 💋

• really proud having a chubby flower fairy as his gf ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ 🧚🏻‍♀️💌

𖧷 Jason Voorhees

• thinks he doesnt deserve you.

• now dont get me wrong here, he freaking loves you and its a fact that you manage to bring the little jason out of his big mass body.

• but as we know, he's also a very very insecure boy :( so compare to your beautiful body he sometimes think he doesnt deserve you, and you deserve someone better than him.

• but you always make him feel better in bed where you make him feel so good it boost his confidence <3

• its only make him love you even more.

• and just like billy, he had no problems to disembowel anyone who dare to touch your hair in a wrong way,

• and given the fact that you're a fairy, he might get a little too overprotective of you, but its also because he love you so much and would love to keep the secret of you being a fairy tight-tight.

𖧷 Michael Myers

• he first think of you as a weirdo 😁💀

• but as times goes by, he also known the fact that you're not a weirdo, you're just simply a non human creature (unless you're actually a weirdo, that would be plus-plus <3)

• he thinks it cool of how you manage to make a flower bloom, to grow flowers with your power and ect..

• but since he doesnt talk, he just sometimes like, like he sees you 'performing' and then he just aggresively nodding at what you're doing.

• thats actually how he shows himself enjoying something.

• he also thinks your wings is a pretty combination with your chubby body.

• he would rather die than admitting this, but he is freaking love cuddling with you.

• and yes, he also had no problem to slaughtered everyone who talk down and look down on you.

• even if he had to kill everyone in a public place, in the middle of the city or whatever, he had ZERO problem.

• also since he doesnt talk, you dont have to fear about getting your secret spilled. and even if someone already like heared a little about you being a fairy, you best believe they're gonna be dead in just a few days later.

𖧷 Jennifer Check

• oh my god yk what?? this reminds me of like Lana del rey and Taylor swift friendship dynamic!!

• like she's the Lana del rey girl, and you're the Taylor swift girlie (unless you also like lana del rey just like me, it will also be a plus plus<3)

• REALLY REALLY PROUD having you as her partner.

• if someone mock your relationship with her because since she always view as an it girl or simply a 'perfection' it will be no doubt that you might get mock a bit.

• and when she find out about the fact that you're getting mocked by someone? oh god.. you best believe they're gonna be dead with their stomach ripped open.

• she gives zero fuck about their gender, age or status or whatever. if they fuck with you, they fuck with her, and you know what happen if someone fuck with her

• fuck with her is already bad, and now they want to fire it with fucking with you? nuh uh. honestly, not the best idea ever.

• and ok i know she's like very popular and she's also an extroverted lady, but she would try her best to keep the secret of you being a fairy.

• and since you both are non human, she didnt afraid to tell you what kind of creature she is.

• but she is, somehow, well not afraid, just worry that you might leave or hate her for eating a mankind.

• but overall, she's really love you and your talent, she might get a little envy about your talent or whatever, but that enviness will be quickly replaced by her proud nature about having a 'secret' flower fairy partner.

[hotxcheeto]

hi nevy! could u do a chloe X fem!reader but they have a secret relationship? the reader’s friends (victoria, nathan, basically the whole vortex) don’t like chloe at all. meaning the reader would have to sneak out at night to go see chloe. & if ur willing, could u add some angsty smut since chloe really doesn’t wanna be kept a secret anymore? thank u in advance

━ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, angst, smut, fluff sprinkled throughout, teasing, v fingering ( r! receiving ), kissing, talk of cheating ( no actual cheating ), mean names ( nate and chloe don't like each other )

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - Damn this sucks

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD! ITS APPRECIATED!

Your dorm room was almost silent, almost.

"I just don't get why you hang out with that weirdo." Victoria said, fixing her eye makeup while sitting at the vanity you had in your room. "Because she's my friend, Vic, just like you are."

Victoria huffed, but nodded nonetheless, looking at you in the reflection as you laid staring at your ceiling. Your mouth picking up where it had first left off,

"And she's not weird. A handful? Yes. Weird? She leaves that part to me." Victoria chuckled at your joke, standing up and walking over to your bed, crossing her arms as she glanced down at you.

"Whatever, I'm just glad you didn't fall for that puppy love crush she had on you. What a lame gimmick." You hummed, feeling the bed dip as she sat down, your door opening at almost the exact same time.

"I thought it was cute." You muttered, messing with a ring on your finger that the topic of conversation herself had gifted you. "What's cute?" Nathan's voice interrupted, the door then shutting.

"Nothing." Victoria stared at you for a moment as you spoke, her eyes then turning to Nathan. "Where the fuck have you been?" He scoffed, sitting beside your head. "What are you? My dad?"

He pulled out something from his pocket that you couldn't see, instead you focused on the way he smelled like old cologne and weed. Victoria's nails tickling your calf as she waited for him to light the joint.

"She's just worried, Nate." He grunted inaudible in response, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to Victoria. "She should be worried about you. I seen you hanging with that punk ass blue haired bitch, again."

He dragged out his last word, glancing down at you while you only rolled your eyes. Looking away and towards your photo wall, which include said punk ass in a selfie you had made her take with you just a few days before.

"You don't know her." He grabbed the joint from Victoria's perfectly manicured fingers, "You'd be fucking surprised, Y/n/n." "She's done nothing you haven't"

Victoria watched you both go back and forth for a moment, leaning against your headboard. Smoke slowly swirling from her lips

"Whatever, don't come crying to me when she fucks you over." Giggling, you finally sat up, gesturing for the joint. "Sure Natie."

"Aw, Natie, we both know you're soft and squishy inside." Victoria commented, the boy glaring you both down as laughter filled the dorm. "Shut the fuck up, for the love of God."

"Why can't you hang out Saturday again?"

"I have a-"

"Vortex club party, right."

Letting out a sigh, your head teetered to the left to look at her in the driver's side seat. Hand gripping her steering wheel while the other rested on your thigh, tapping along to the beat on the radio.

"Chlo, we can hang out Friday and Sunday. Promise." Your blue haired girlfriend turned her head, taking her eyes off the road to give you a glare. "Why can't I come?"

Taking a deep inhale, Chloe liked watching you squirm at the question. Laying your cheek against your knuckles while watching the trees pass by.

"You know they don't like you, I'm still warming them up. Doesn't help you bought drugs off Nate and then threatened him-" She laughed which cut you off, her grip becoming tighter. "Right, my fault he's a pretentious, rich, dickhead."

"Chloe, he is not that bad once you realize why he acts how he is." The truck then whipped into the driveway of your house, coming to a stop as she turned to look at you. "Right."

"I didn't judge you based on how you acted. I knew there was a reason you did." With that you opened the door and got out, leaving her sitting there in silence while trying to come up with a response.

Though you thought she was going to leave, like planned, the sound of the driver side door opening and closing said otherwise.

"Damn, don't let the door hit me." She smiled only when you did, following after you and into your house. Close behind while observing you set down your belongings on your kitchen counter.

"I promise Chlo, I will tell them about you when the time is right." The inside of her cheek sucked in, and you could tell she was frustrated. But she didn't stop listening.

"I just want a better relationship between you and them before I tell them about us. They worry about me." She hummed but didn't say anything, the wordlessness overly abnormal.

"I worry about you too, but sure, Victoria's probably single I mean I'm sure she'd love to-" "Chloe Elizabeth Price, that is not what I mean and you know it."

Her mouth shut as she stared, her head cocked to the side while that stupid expression pointed at you.

"Max worries about you. I'm not accusing you of wanting her or vice versa, am I?" With her head thrown back, she groaned, following you to your room. "Babe, I'm sorry." You opened your door, walking towards your bed. "I know. I am too, I'm just trying to keep the peace between people I really care about."

Chloe watched as you began to change into your loungewear, talking as you tossed your shirt away.

"Nate and Vic are coming around. I just need a little more time."

You turned around at her unresponsiveness, noticing her leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

"What?" She shook her head, "Nothing. Just admiring the view. You're hot when you're worked up." You stood now in only your bra and whatever bottoms you chose that morning, placing your hands on your hips.

"Is that so?" "Yeah, actually." Humming and nodding your head, you turned away from her. Unclipping the garment and tossing it away with the rest of your clothes from the day.

"You can't distract me by flirting Chloe."

Quickly you stripped yourself of your lower clothing, stepping out at the same time two cold hands landed on your belly.

"Chloe!" Her laughter was audible from her place in the crook of your neck, "You should just tell them already, no matter what they're gonna be mad." "You know why I can't do that. Nate would flip his shit, since y'know, you threatened him."

"Who cares what that asshole thinks about me." You pulled away from her, putting a shirt over your head and turning around. "I do, because he's one of my best friends."

She could tell that once again, she'd upset you. Rolling her eyes and falling onto your bed while watching you search for a pair of shorts.

"And I'm your secret hookup, color me stoked, hotstuff." You turned, practically fuming at this point, slamming your drawer shut in the process. Balling up your shorts in your hand just out of frustration.

"Fuck you, Chloe."

Her stare wasn't on your pissed off face, though, when you walked over to her. She was watching how your hips swayed instead, your bare skin being kissed by the yellow glow of your lamp.

"You know that's not true." She let out a strained laugh, snatching the shorts from your hold. "Do I?" Chloe asked.

"Don't start with that." Chloe smiled at that, or smirked, you didn't notice either because you were trying to get your bottoms back.

"I think I will."

Her cold hand landed on thigh, pushing you forward and tumbling into her lap. Her shoulders became a support beam as you tried not to fall against her.

"We're like Romeo and Juliet." You stated, trying to lighten the mood and pretend you didn't want to pluck her eyes from her head.

"Only Juliet won't tell her evil fucked up family because they don't like that Romeo doesn't suck the Vortex Club's dick." Chloe replied, her fingers slipping between your thighs making you shiver.

And as she inched closer, the more and more you wanted to press your lower half downward to meet her touch. A light throbbing pain beginning to envelop the area between your legs.

"Chloe-" "I want you to tell them." The pad of her finger brushed over your clit, a tiny little gasp escaping your lips. "I can't yet..." She laughed. "Who the fuck said that?"

You opened your mouth to reply but nothing came out. Her hand gathered your wetness while slowly beginning to circle your little bundle of nerves.

"That's what I thought." You glanced down, gripping her forearm as she played with you. Toying with your needy entrance while enjoying the tiny twitches your face made.

Her tattooed arm moving back and forth just enough to make you want more.

"You're such a dick." You mumbled, "Says the one keeping me a secret." You wanted to complain, you really did, but not a word came out. "I don't give a shit whether or not I meet Nathan Bitchscott's standards. But apparently you do."

"No- no I don't Chloe-"

It wasn't just you she was working up now, it was herself as well. Chloe's jaw clenching in aggravation at her own thoughts, but that stupid smile stuck.

And soon it grew wider when two of her fingers plunged inside of your cunt, a much louder sound admitting into the air. You thanked everything that no one was home. Helplessly listening to the wet sounds of her moving in and out at an agonizingly moderate pace.

"Then tell them, because I'm sick of waiting." Her other hand snaked up towards the back of your head. Pushing you towards her mouth to catch you in a kiss. Her lips tasted like cigarettes and the soda you'd given her earlier in the day.

"Unless you're embarrassed? You embarrassed of me, hotstuff?"

She chuckled as you shook your head, a pout on your lips as she kissed you again. Her long fingers reached each and every little spot that made you hum against her open mouth.

"Faster, please.." And like you commanded, her hand sped up. Your body practically locking up against hers, your thighs shaking to hold the rest of you from toppling your girlfriend.

And closer and closer you inched towards your high. Beginning to sweat and pant, holding her, pleading silently, asking for release.

"Come on..." You kissed her once more, your legs giving out as your weight fell against Chloe. Her fingers still moving in and out, your hips humping against her hand which soon allowed a third finger inside.

Her mouth then got close to your ear. Her warm breath tickling your skin as she fucked into you. The pads of her fingers running up and down your walls.

"You tell them, or I take my hand away. How's that fucking idea?"

The noise you made sounded unholy, thighs clamping around her hand.

"I will, I will I promise, please Chloe- fuck." You whined the last word, her digits running along your special spot again and again as you stared into her eyes. "I will please, please let me cum."

Her other hand gripped the inside of your thigh, pulling them apart once again.

"Promise?" She watched your head move up and down quickly as you agreed, "I promise, Chlo, I promise." You whimpered, riding her hand as you tried your hardest to keep yourself close, despite her slowing.

Always the tease.

"Yeah?" Again you nodded over and over until she finally sped up, fucking into you at an unruly pace. Her palm hitting against your clit just right to the point of you crying out into the crook of her neck.

"M'close Chlo- please..."

"Fuck just- let go babe."

And you did, as the coil grew tighter and tighter, her neck vibrated as you moaned. Shaking as your hips sputtered against her knuckles. Pulling away just to kiss her lips, her throat swallowing up your sounds.

"M'sorry.." You muttered against her lips as you pulled back, your hand still holding her wrist that was between your thighs.

"You're gonna tell them, right?"

"Mhm." You nod, earning a sweet smile from your girlfriend.

"Thanks hot stuff."

[veritable-trash]

maybe it's never truly over

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader(nickname used but no descriptors!)

Summary: It's been a long time since you've seen each other. For you it hasn't been long enough but for Miguel things are a bit more complicated.

Word Count: 1K

Rating: E - for eventual smut, friends to enemies to friends to lovers i think??? this chapter is tame just seeing if people are interested in what i might decide to cook up <3 :)

A/N: alright alright alright like literally everyone i watched spiderverse and have now descended into the black hole of being obsessed with every character from that movie but this one right here????? yes yes i like him very much. anyways wrote this for fun think i might try another series and see what comes of it. this is not sticking to any canon(lol miguel would be PISSED but this is my multiverse bitch!) because there's such a depth to his character that i want to just play with in this story potentially.

anyways if you like this little intro and want to read more and see where these two little weirdos spin their way off to reblog, send me thirsty thoughts about this man, comment to your heart's content about how his body is shaped like a dorito and i want to eat HIM!

also @dameronscopilot wrote an absolute SPICED piece for Miguel so go read that now if anyone sees this!!!!!

enjoy :)))))))))

masterlist weeeeeeeee

~~~~~

There was something different about today. 

Air shimmering like it was about to crystallize and crack at any given moment. 

Like the world was gonna stop all of a sudden and dissolve into some weird cosmic puddle. 

But not for you. Never for you because even when things felt like they were about to snap, crackle, pop, your life tended to stay a bit boring. It had been a long, long time since you’d felt any kind of twinkle in your life, and you didn’t mind it. The last time things had fizzled like that you’d been left a bit shattered yourself. 

Even still, the niggle at the nape of your neck wouldn’t let up. even the sidewalk seemed to wobble under your feet as you traversed the packed streets of Nueva York. Your palms can’t help but start sweating, heart kicking up its pace as the people around you seem to crowd and crowd and crowd. 

Alley. You need to find an alley and fucking breath. 

You turn in fast on the tight corridor, the smell of garbage helping to clear the dizziness in your head but it still isn’t gone. The feelings still there. Why won’t it just fucking leave you-

“Lyla I got it. Just check the other dimensions and report back to me I haven’t seen any signs of them here.”

And now you know why this an entire day has been like walking through jelly.

Because the second Miguel O’Hara turns around and sees you, everything absolutely shatters.

It’s been years, maybe over a decade since he’s seen you, but you’ve seen plenty of him. The magazines, the news, online, every god damn street corner of this godforsaken city conveniently reminds you of this Dorito-shaped dip shit man. 

Nothing changes in his demeanor, to an unseasoned eye, but you remember Miguel from before. Gabe’s older brother Miguel, mama’s boy Miguel, your best friend Miguel, and his eyes can’t hide the things you know deep in his heart. 

You don’t even know what to say. There’s nothing left in your brain, just him, still staring, but now from new heights, with new scars, and it scares the shit out of you.

And pisses you the fuck off.

“So what? You go radio silent for over ten years and now you’re gonna stalk me in some alley like creep? Very on brand Miguel but I thought you would have fucking grown up by now.”

His shoulders tense and you can’t stop the way your lips curve as you sense you’ve gotten to him, even if only a little. But then he’s turning away, slowly walking down the alley towards the brick wall and you realize he’s not going to say anything to you. That he’s going to just leave again without a single fucking word.

“Miguel if you don’t turn the fuck around right now and say something to me I will beat the shit out of you I swear to god. I know your weak spots don’t make me fucking use it!”

(it’s just under his ribs, but only on the right side)

“Bichito, pleas-“

“Don’t you dare fucking call me that. Don’t you fucking dare. You lost the right to call me that when you disappeared on me. Fuck you Miguel, honestly I don’t even have anything left to say to you just fuck off.”

This time his face face does crumple just a little bit and you preen at his pain. Suck it into your lungs as the boy who trampled your heart finally gets a taste of how you bled. 

You turn back to the chaos of the street and throw yourself into the people, away from Miguel and all the bullshit, earth shattering happening behind you. It’s been a long time since you’ve needed Miguel O’Hara and it’ll be an even longer time before you come back around to his antics.

Probably never.

~~~~~

He fucked up. 

Miguel didn’t know how he’d dropped the ball this hard, but he’d fucked up big time and for once it didn’t involve some stupid fucking multiverse drama. 

It involved you. 

You, the girl from down the block who used to wrestle Gabriel and make flower crowns out of the flowers growing between the cracks in the concrete. 

You, the girl who stayed up till the sky started to turn pink again listening to him rant on and on about his shitty dad and his shitty life.

You, his Bichito, his little bug, his best friend, the center of what he thought was his tiny little universe so many years ago. 

But he’d left that behind. Thought that he could find something else, find something better, finally be happy in ways he’d never even dreamed of.

And look at where it had gotten him. 

He wasn’t ever supposed to run into you again. He was supposed to be vigilant, cautious, knew that running into you would derail him a thousand times over and he had bigger things to be focusing on. Multiverse-altering, dimension-destroying things to focus on.

Yet the universe had dropped you both in that alley and something deep in his chest rippled with feelings he couldn’t seem to find a word for. It was fucking terrifying and he wasn’t going to let it fester. 

He had things to do. Universes to fix. An ever growing mantle of responsibility hanging of his shoulders.

A constant reminder of his fuck ups and the reality that he wasn’t going to let himself slip up again. 

And yet as his claws carry him up and onto the rooftops of Nueva York, Miguel O’Hara has a terrifying suspicion that he may no longer be able to stay away. 

~~~~~

hehehehAHAHHAHA god i love this twisted little sad sack man who just wants to be all rough and tough. anyways haven't written in ages and this character has gotten me at least sorta interested in writing so i just wanted to throw this out there, get something moving, even if i go back into dormancy for another millenia.

well heart eyes for you guys and forehead kisses for anyone who reads i hope your day is a dream <33333333333

[bitciziad]

greasy oiled up bbg || blood CW!

more under the cut!

omfg genuinely this is so embarrassing it completely slipped my mind to add a content warning or another version without blood yall please ignore me LMFAOOO this is what i mean by i’m new to tumblr so expect more clueless moments like this next time AHAHHA

(TYSM @/lewditydegreeblog for adding that one tag in your reblog, i knew i was missing something but i got that gold fish brain)

okay we’re back- the bloody clothes have no context whatsoever i just thought it looked cool cuz i love apocalyptic vibes and i’ll admit, kylar 100% is prepared for it. like a roach. you can’t get rid of him and neither will zombies or aliens or viruses. he has a million hunting knives, pockets galore, literally makes chemical weapons. he better learn to stitch his pants back together though.

ANYWAY BACK WITH MORE KYLARRR, thank y’all sm for the reactions to my last post on him!! i appreciate it a lot holy shit y’all are great and the tags ?? love y’all LMFAO so here’s more as a thanks <3

i got a funny idea for that papa roach thing btw i’ll probably post it later if i can actually do anatomy but yknow that dramatic cliche pose of someone on their knees ripping open their jacket ?? yeah

he’s so cute love u kylar when you’re not trying to stalk ppl (i avoided him for like three months in game time after the halloween event cuz my pc went with whitney IMSORRY)

also you cannot convince me otherwise that the local alley cats don’t absolutely DESPISE his ass, especially in the residential district, those stray alley cats beat kylar’s ass like it’s ON SIGHT any time he tries jumping the gate to and from the orphanage. they got a mark out for him, can smell his garlic ass a mile away. he scrambles, the cats are bailey’s unemployed thugs atp, doing that bastard a favor. idk how to draw cats

ironically except for whitney probably like no wonder why that idiot just hangs out in the alleyways 24/7. doesn’t even love cats he’s just that type of fucker that animals like but who’s he to complain if the random town cats also have a weird funny vendetta against kylar. love you whitney muah, and yes the whitney addition is 100% inspired by one of truthful_lier’s headcanons for whitney on Ao3!! animal magnet tbh i see the vision and i AGREE.

tbh besides the fact it’s just funny as fuck for random alley cats to hiss at kylar and chase him away or scratch him (would be just another reason why he always has scratches on his hands and face too), animals sensing the paranormal or something probably has something to do with it.

like even the animals probably think he’s a garlic smelling weirdo with some “off” vibe that just REEKS of supernatural remnants (his parents ofc) that makes the hair on the back of your neck prickle cuz it’s just an uncomfortable, foreboding feeling that’s just off.

jkjk he’s just getting punked by stray cats for no reason whatsoever. he gets bullied at school and now by the local stray litter shitters just for the hell of it. no context no reason it’s just on sight.

also here’s close ups cuz idk if tumblr ruins quality or not but yeah here’s this sopping wet cat of a guy. ALSO HEAR ME OUT PLEASE- the eye shaped gauges ??? you see where i’m going with this right RIGHT

also pls ignore it if you see me edit the tags they were off center and it bothered me LMFAOO but anyway my interpretation is 100% inspired by yall <3 i love this greasy little rat mf cant believe a p0rn game cured my artblock but idc i love it

[venusin-aries]

I really need to get this off my chest but the way people are trying to compare the sexual desire Az has for Elain to the way he is with Gwyn? It’s borderline ignorance of sexual assault. 

Azriel respects Gwyn. He admires her. 

He also witnessed the aftermath of her rape. 

Of course he’s not going to sexualize her. I imagine he won’t ALLOW himself to think like that about her just yet and that’ll be an obstacle they’ll have to overcome.

Would you want a man you only just re-met all over you after he saw the aftermath of your rape? Because if so, THAT would be romanticizing her sexual assault.

That’s why, if anything, I’m so fucking glad the bond hasn’t seemingly snapped for him. 

If they are mates (which most of us think they are) any desire he feels for her will be stronger than what he feels for Elain just like any desire Elain feels for Lucien will be stronger than what she feels for Azriel. Those are FACTS. Because Elain and Lucien are CONFIRMED MATES. 

Some of y’all are so weird and HARMFUL it’s crazy. And I’m not someone who is super sensitive about assault, fictional or real, mine or others, you guys just CLEARLY HAVE NO IDEA HOW DESIRE AFTER ASSAULT IS HANDLED FOR BOTH PARTIES INVOLVED IN THE CONSENSUAL ACTIVITY. And it shows. I trust Sarah to do thorough research about it before publishing anything.

Az and Elain’s desire for each other will pass. 

Her bond with Lucien will not. 

Azriel is likely going to have his own mate who he’ll go fucking feral for and his and Elain’s bonus chapter moment will look like child’s play. Elain and Lucien’s tension WILL snap eventually and I KNOW they will be the biggest Freaks (affectionate and spicy meaning) of the series.

And I’m gonna remember every one of you fucking weirdos who were weird about Azriel’s seemingly lack of desire for Gwyn (though he definitely starts to seem intrigued in acosf AFTER his and Elain’s bonus chapter moment) and how some of y’all hold her assault against her. 

It’s not just one person who is stating this shit either so it’s not about anyone specifically. Yes, bloggers have been combative about it but anons are even worse and I’m Tired Of It.

This is NOT AN INVITATION FOR DISCOURSE. If you think my being sick of the way people are so stupid about assault is problematic, you’re the fucking problem, baby. Don’t even try to start shit with me because I’m tired of people saying the most off the cuff shit about Gwyn and then playing the victim so if you have a fucking problem go vague post about me or something cause I ain’t going to read it any more.

and whaaaaatever you do, do not reblog this with an argument against Gwynriel or Elucien for e/riel. I will lose my damn shit and I WILL fucking block you.

also, and just an unnecessary tidbit for you all, my first partner after I experienced assault told me nothing satisfied him more than satisfying me and making me feel safe after being hurt so badly. Compete with that.

[archiveikemen]

『 The Past Records 』 Collection Event: Chapter 1

Jude Jazza & Ellis Twilight

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

< Ellis' POV >

I’m sure we met each other four years before we joined Crown.

On the night I arrived in London and was wandering around town in search of accommodation, I was crossing a bridge when I saw him there looking up at the moon.

Looking at his vacant facial expression from his side profile as he finished smoking a cigarette, I thought he was going to fall into the river below.

So, I asked him a question.

Ellis: Are you happy?

Jude: … So what if I am?

Ellis: I’ll make the happiest moment in your life… last forever.

Jude: Hah? What was that? You’ve got a screw loose.

Jude: The happiest moment in my life, huh. Perhaps—

…

< Third Person POV >

Victor: Work again? I was informed in advance, but you two sure seem busy.

It was morning at Crown’s castle. Victor had just arrived at the dining room for breakfast when two people were already heading out after finishing theirs even though it was still early in the morning, and so he called out to them as they passed by one another.

Ellis: Sorry, Victor. We’ll be back by nightfall, so let’s discuss the mission then.

Victor: Ahh, how very commendable! I’m perfectly OK with that!

Jude: Shut up. You don’t have to apologise to this weirdo every single time.

Victor: You have a very sharp tongue, Jude. But I like that about you.

Jude: Creep.

Ellis: We’ll be taking our leave now.

The two left the castle with facial expressions contradicting each other’s.

Liam: I’m impressed with how you’re still not depressed despite being treated with that tone daily, Victor.

Victor: Well, those two were recruited by me after all.

Liam: Just like them, you also told me that you were “OK with me keeping my current job” when I joined Crown. But they seem so much busier than I am.

Liam: I wonder if they have the time to go on missions for Crown.

Ever since Ellis and Jude joined Crown a few days ago, the two had yet to even go on their first mission.

William: Well, there’s no deadline for when they must have their first mission by.

Harrison: … You know, can we really trust those two guys?

William: What makes you say so?

Harrison: They say that they're traders, but I heard some suspicious rumours about them. It’s said that they have enemies everywhere holding grudges against them.

Liam: Oh, I heard those rumours too. Such rumours occasionally spread amongst my fellow actors.

Liam: There's rumours about things like an aristocrat got swindled of their entire fortune.

Harrison: It won’t be a problem if they’re merely immoral businessmen.

Harrison: But if they're spies from elsewhere, we can’t just sit back and do nothing.

Victor: Do you not trust them?

Harrison: As much as you’re a weirdo, but I believe that you’re a good judge of character. It’s just that…

Victor: !! Did you hear that, William?! Harry just praised me!

William: Yes, I did. He has more to say.

Victor: Right, please continue!

Harrison: … You’re really a pain in the neck.

Harrison: It’s just that because of these rumours, their background is too dubious for us to feel like we can safely assume that they’re trustworthy.

Harrison: Don’t you think we shouldn't let them go their own way too often?

Victor: Hmm, you have a point… but I don’t want to impose too much restriction on their freedom.

William: Why don’t we ascertain for ourselves, whether they can be trusted?

Victor: Ascertain for ourselves… I like that idea!

Liam: Ahaha, looks like something’s brewing.

Harrison: Ohhh I have a bad feeling about this.

…

Victor: All members of Crown are here~! It’s time for a new mission, and I call it “Operation Observe Jude and Ellis’ Way of Life”!

Liam: Wow—! *seal clapping*

Alfons: Another one of Victor’s idiotic plans? Marvellous.

Victor: I want everyone to observe the two of them and submit reports to me.

Victor: The theme shall be “are the two of them suited for Crown?”.

Harrison: Damn it… I shouldn’t have said anything. I already have enough on my plate as it is.

Elbert: … You’re busy?

Alfons: If I’m not mistaken, you’re in the midst of a proofreading job with no extensions allowed for its deadline, and the author of the book has yet to submit their first draft.

Alfons: I think you also mentioned having to burn the midnight oil before the deadline.

Liam: Then, why not have Harry be the commander?

Liam: The investigation works will be distributed amongst all the members except Harry!

Alfons: A Sneaking Mission? Sounds like fun.

Elbert: I don't mind.

Roger: I mean, I don’t see why not?

Harrison: … By the way, can I choose NOT to be a part of this?

William: At this juncture, I highly doubt so.

Harrison: … Right.

Victor: Well then, the investigation begins!

[judesmoonbeauty]

The Past Records: Ellis & Jude Chapter 1

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to reblog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.

Translation notes are marked with ***

We met four years before we entered Crown, I believe.***

The night I drifted into the town of London, I passed by a bridge looking for a place to stay and saw a man looking up at the moon.

I looked at his empty-looking profile and thought he was going to fall straight into the river when he finished his cigarette.

So I just had to ask the question.

Ellis: Are you happy?

Jude: What's the point if I'm happy or not?

Ellis: I'll make the happiest moment of you're life....last forever.

Jude: Ha. What is that? Are you crazy?

Jude: The happiest I've ever been in my life. Maybe-

Victor: Working again? I heard about it beforehand, but you are very busy.

It's early morning at Crown Castle. Victor comes into the dining room for breakfast.

He called out to them in passing as they were about to go out after finishing their meal, which was already too early.

Ellis: Sorry, Victor. We'll be back tonight, so we'll talk about the mission then.

Victor: Oh, how industrious! It's totally okay!

Jude: Shut up. You don't have to apologize every time you deal with a freak.

Victor: Jude is so harsh. I love that about you, though. (SO DO WE!)

Jude: Disgusting.

Ellis: We're off.

The two left the castle with opposite expressions on their face.

Liam: I'm impressed that you don't get down at that rate every day, Victor.

Victor: Well, I'm the one who recruited those two.

Liam: I joined Crown on the condition that I could keep my current job, but those two guys seem busier than I am.

Liam: I wonder if they have time to do their duties for Crown?

It's been a few days since Ellis and Jude joined the team, and they haven't even had their first mission yet.

William: Well, it doesn't matter when their first mission is.

Harrison: Hey, can we really trust those guys?

William: Why do you say that?

Harrison: It's said he's a trader, but I've heard some fishy rumors. I hear he has a lot of enemies here and there.

Liam: Oh, I've heard that too. It's even talked about mong the fellow actors from time to time.

Liam: Some aristocrat got ripped off and had all his money squeezed out of him.

Harrison: I don't care if he's just a crooked merchant. If he's a spy, I can't just sit idly by.

Victor: You can't trust them?

Harrison: You're a random weirdo, but I know you have a good eye for people. It's just....

Victor: !Did you hear that, William?! Did you hear what Harry just said about me?! (My guy is an excited chihuahua LOL.)

William: Oh, I heard. There's more to come.

Victor: Yes, you may continue!

Harrison:.....you're a real pain in the ass.

Harrison: It's just that his background is too shady to be trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Harrison: I don't think we should let those two act individually too much, do you?

Victor: Hmmm, well I don't want to restrict....their freedom too much.

William: Why don't you just make sure? Whether you can trust them or not?

Victor: Make sure....I like that!

Liam: Haha, looks like something's about to start, doesn't it?

Harrison: I have a bad feeling about this.....

Victor: So, all of Crown is together! We are going to observe Jude and Ellis' way of life!

Liam: Oh! *Claps*

Alfons: Is this another one of Victor's dimwitted projects? It's the best.

Victor: I want everyone to observe the two of them and report back to me.

Victor: The theme is: Are those two worthy of Crown?

Harrison: Damn...I shouldn't have said anything. I'm too busy for this.

Elbert: What are you busy with...?

Alfons: As I recall, you were in the middle of a reviewing job with no time to meet the deadline, and the first draft had not been submitted by the writer.

Alfons: It's as he said, “I'm going to have to stay up all night just before the deadline.”

Liam: Well, wouldn't it be nice if Harry acted as the command center?

Liam: The investigation will be shared among the members other than Harry!

Alfons: A stealth mission, sounds like fun.

Elbert: I don't mind.

Roger: Well, that's good, isn't it?

Harrison: By the way, what's your reason for not doing it?

William: I don't think we'll get that far.

Harrison: ...right?

Victor: Then let the investigation begin!

***Note: I just wanted to affirm that Ellis mentions it had been four years since he met Jude prior to joining Crown. This is not a mistranslation.

[Next] [Masterlist]

[daisynik7]

A Bento For Kento

Chapter 2: Two Bentos are Better Than One

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

cw: none that I can think of!

Summary: Nanami gets a pleasant surprise from his student, in the form of a Hello Kitty bento box. Meanwhile, you are an emotional mess who loves your weirdo brother. 

Notes: Bento inspired by this: Japanese Egg Sandwich. Let me know in the comments below if you’d like to be tagged in the next chapter(s)! Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Would love to hear what y'all think so far!

Previous Chapter | ao3 | Next Chapter

A Bento for Kento Masterlist

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

Preparing lunches for Ren has been fun, but making a different type of bento three times a week is really pushing your creativity threshold. Knowing that he isn’t picky about eating the same meal every other day, you decide to cook one type of bento throughout the week. Doing it this way has made the whole process less stressful and more manageable.

As for his actual lessons, you remain in the dark. When he comes home Friday afternoon, you ask him, “How was your first week? Still determined to attend this school?” 

He kicks his shoes off and flops down, face first, onto the couch. “Yes, very determined.” He flips onto his back and reaches his arms above his head, stretching. “Can we watch a horror movie tonight? I’m in the mood for something mindless that doesn’t make me think so much. I did too much thinking this week.”

You chuckle, agreeing to his suggestion. “You pick the movie. Nothing too scary, though. I would like to sleep tonight.”

“Can we order pizza too?” he asks, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes. “I really like you’re cooking, but I just want to eat like trash and feel like trash tonight.” 

You laugh even louder, sitting beside him to ruffle his hair. “You’re starting to sound more like an adult. Stop growing up so fast or else you’ll be a miserable millennial like me.”

“Never! You can never take away my youth!” he yells, playfully flailing his limbs up in the air.

After some typical back and forth about what toppings to get, the two of you finally agree on what type of pizza to order. While waiting for the delivery, you give your brother the honors of choosing which horror movie to watch, to which he picks the number one on a list of top ten scariest films he looked up on Google. So much for sleeping tonight. 

~~~

The start of another week means a brand-new bento creation. After searching the Internet for tasty ideas, you decide to make egg salad sandwiches. These were a favorite of yours and Ren’s growing up. To kick it up a notch, you use high quality Shokupan bread, courtesy of your favorite bakery nearby. Hell, you even cut the crusts off. Impressed with yourself, you deliberate if you should change careers to become a professional chef. 

As you delicately place them in the blue bento, you hear his footsteps approach the kitchen. “Yum! Egg salad!” He looks over your shoulder to peek. “And with no crust?!”

You turn your head to face him, grinning. “Yup. Pretty fancy, huh?”

“It’s amazing! The bread looks so fluffy,” he notices, poking at it. He hovers over the bowl of egg salad, still half full. He stares at it for a moment before asking, “Is there a lot left?”

“Yeah, looks like it. I’ll eat it some of it later. Maybe I can give the rest to the neighbors – ”

“Can you pack me an extra then? I’ll eat it!” He starts opening up the cupboards, looking for another box. 

“You want two bentos?” 

“Yes! Please! I’ll eat them both, I promise!” 

You’re surprised, but also flattered. Has your cooking improved so much that your teenaged brother actually craves two servings of your food? Maybe you really should become a chef.

Ren continues to slam the cupboards, his search for another container growing futile. After you’ve had enough, you head to your room and yell out, “Stop! I think I have one in my room, hold on.”

After you find what you’re looking for in your closet, you return to the kitchen, bright red Hello Kitty bento box in hand. “Let’s use this. Do you mind?”

He smiles wide, all his teeth showing mischievously. “This is perfect.” His enthusiasm throws you off. Teenage boys sure are getting weirder and weirder.

~~~

“Hello mentor!” Ren greets as he enters the conference room.

Nanami lifts his head up to return his greeting. “Hello Nakamura, did you have a nice weekend?” 

Ren sits down at an empty desk, unzipping his backpack to retrieve a notebook and pen, all while recounting his weekend activities. Nanami listens intently, simultaneously pleased with how prompt and prepared his student is for their lessons. 

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they start today’s class. They delve into a more intense subject: curses. They review previous missions that Nanami himself participated in, some of the content being disturbing and gruesome for the average person. To his surprise, Ren doesn’t seem fazed. When he asks questions, he is analytical and intrigued. Nanami appreciates this, as he himself likes to separate sentimentality from work. 

They go through three different case studies until it’s time for a break. He expects that Ren has another delicious feast ready for him in his backpack. He’s had one every single day they’ve had their lessons. Last week, it was the same for all three days. He wonders if it’s different this time.

For some reason, Nanami keeps forgetting to find another bakery that sells ham and cheese sandwiches. He is without a lunch again. He gets up from his desk and walks down the hall into the break room to prepare his tea. This will have to do for now. 

He returns to the conference room, freshly brewed green tea in hand, noticing that Ren is already halfway through his meal. Egg salad sandwiches today, one of Nanami’s favorites. 

Back at his seat, he is shocked, and horrified, to find a Hello Kitty bento box waiting for him on top of his desk.

Whipping his head towards his student, he asks nervously, “What is this?”

Ren smiles, cheeks stuffed like chipmunk. “It’s for you!” Bits of egg salad come flying out of his mouth. “Sorry,” he mutters, swallowing his food all at once. “I couldn’t stand another day seeing you just drink your tea. I had my sister make an extra.” 

Nanami stares at him, then at Hello Kitty. Her black eyes and red ribbon peering into his soul. 

“Well, aren’t you going to eat it? It’s not like Hello Kitty is a curse,” Ren snorts, amused at his own joke.

Still hesitant about this odd situation, he clarifies, “Are you sure you don’t want this? Your sister packed this for you.” It’s not for me, he thinks.

He munches on a cucumber slice, responding, “The only reason I asked her to pack an extra was so I can give it to you. It’s the least I can do since you’re teaching me so much.”

There’s a lump in his throat, an unusual sensation Nanami isn’t familiar with. It’s been a while since someone showed this kind of generosity to him. It wasn’t as if people in his life mistreated him. It’s just nice to be acknowledged. 

He remains standing over the desk when Ren mentions, “Hello Kitty was not my choice. You can blame my sister for that. It was the only one she could find. But I think it fits your personality perfectly,” he teases.

Cracking a tiny smile, he says, “As long as the food is good, I don’t mind it.” He finally sits down and opens the box, bidding farewell to Hello Kitty’s face in the process. 

Underneath the cover is an egg salad sandwich, exactly like the one Ren just devoured. He notices that it’s on Shokupan bread. Good choice, he muses. He handles it with care, relishing the softness, appreciating the meticulously trimmed edges. Once he bites in, his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. Creamy, pillowy, not too salty, and slightly sweet. It’s simple and luxurious all at the same time. Purely exquisite.

Maybe it’s because this was his first taste of real food all day. Maybe it’s because it seems like a gift from his student. Maybe it’s because it makes him feel special. Whatever the reason, he can admit to himself that he is really enjoying this. He’s thankful to be wearing glasses to prevent his pupil from witnessing the dumb expression on his face. It’s embarrassing. Out of character. 

“Pretty good, right? It was our favorite growing up,” Ren mentions, finishing off the rest of his cucumber slices. “She got this bread from a bakery near us. Said the type of bread makes all the difference. It all tastes the same to me.” He has his feet up on the desk now and starts to rub his belly, relaxed and well nourished.

“Your sister is right; it does make all the difference.” Nanami swallows the last bit of his first helping, then starts nibbling on the second. “This wouldn’t be as tasty if it was on generic grocery store bread.”

Ren stifles a laugh and leans further back in his chair to give him an amused look. “Ha, I didn’t expect you to use the word ‘tasty’. It’s funny hearing it from you.”

He wipes his mouth. “Well, it is tasty.”

“I’ll make sure my sister knows her egg salad is tasty,”

“Why are you saying it like that?” He frowns at his student, but when he only responds with a snicker, he chooses not to ask the question again. 

He finishes the rest of the box, leaving no crumbs behind. Hello Kitty returns in plain view as he places the cover back on, handing it to Ren. “Thank you, Nakamura. This was a pleasant surprise.”

“No problem, mentor! Like I said, it’s the least I could do. I’m learning so much from you!” Ren beams at him while he puts both containers away, notebook and pen placed back in front of him.

“Shall we continue the lesson then?”

They go over three more case studies until it’s time to go. Ren asks well thought out questions, taking diligent notes all the while. Nanami explains a few techniques he used in one case study that he personally handled. 

After Ren leaves, he gathers up his suitcase and prepares for his journey home. He’s not as exhausted as he was last week, which he’s thankful for. I should probably find a café, he thinks, scrolling through his phone to look up locations nearby. He won’t subject himself to a single cup of green tea at lunch any longer. That sandwich gave him the energy he needed, but he doesn’t want to assume this is a recurring thing. He finds a café close to the office, setting a reminder for himself to stop by before their next lesson. This will have to do for now.

~~~

You’re already wrapping up work when Ren comes home. “Hey! How was today? Learn anything new?” you ask, closing your laptop. 

He drops his backpack on the floor and sits on the couch, yawning. “I’m learning a ton. I feel like I’ve already gone through half my notebook with all these notes!” 

You sit next to him, watching him open his backpack to retrieve his notebook. As he flips through the pages, you notice a variety of scribbles, as well as some strange doodles of little monsters with bulging eyes. The last page he lands on has a drawing of one long line with hash marks scattered evenly across it. There are notes scrawled around it, the numbers “7” and “3” popping up continuously.

Oh god, this is some cult shit. Panic begins to set in. You’re tempted to start interrogating him. Before you lose your cool, you listen to your inner voice reminding you to trust him. 

Sensing your internal crisis, Ren smiles and waves his hand in front of your face. “Sorry, I know it looks weird, but I promise it’s good.”

What the hell does that mean?! It’s good?!  His response doesn’t alleviate your worries, but as you gaze at his precious face, you realize that he’s putting so much work into whatever this is. It must really be important to him. 

You force a grin and state, “If you say it’s good, then it’s all good.” You reach into his backpack to grab the two empty boxes. “Wow! You must have really liked the sandwiches. I can’t believe you ate both!” 

“Yeah, they were amazing! So tasty! It reminded me of the first meal I ever had when Mom and Dad took me in. It was the first time I ever met you. I ate my whole sandwich in just a few bites, and you gave me half of yours without even thinking for a second. I’ll never forget that.” He smiles at you affectionately. “Actually, I gave the extra one to – ” 

He pauses, noticing the tears streaking down your face, nose sniffling noisily.

“You-hic-you-hic hic-remember that?” you manage to blurt out, your face getting wetter from your embarrassing tears and snot. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get emotional if he brought this up, but you can’t help it!

Concerned, he faces you and places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry! I was just telling you how good it was! It’s a happy memory. I’m happy.”

You wipe your sleeve across your cheeks. “I-hic-just want to make sure I’m-hic-being a good sister.” It takes another minute to steady your breathing. “I know you can’t tell me everything, but if these bentos are the only thing I can do to support you right now, I’ll keep doing it! I was surprised when you asked for another one. I’m just so happy that you like it!” 

He gives your shoulder a small squeeze, smiling. “You’re the best sister ever. I mean it.”

Before you get emotional again, you stand up to wash the boxes in the sink. Halfway through, you remember him trying to tell you something right before you interrupted him with the waterworks. Nothing else is mentioned about it the rest of the night, so you leave it be, thinking it must not be important. 

~~~

Wednesday comes around and Nanami finally remembers to visit the café to pick up his lunch. Unfortunately for him, no ham and cheese. He ends up settling for the less satisfying turkey sandwich. 

He heads up to their usual conference room and settles in. Within minutes, Ren arrives, greeting him as he takes his usual spot at one of the empty desks. They continue their lesson on curses and different abilities that have been used to exorcise them. Nanami references several Jujutsu sorcerers and explains each of their “innate techniques.” He asks Ren if he is aware of any special abilities he might have exhibited throughout his lifetime, to which his pupil acknowledges several odd occurrences he experienced as a child. This helps put some of the pieces together. He’s pleased at the progress they are making. 

They take their break earlier than usual, their stomachs growling with hunger. Nanami hears his student digging through his backpack while he reaches into his suitcase for the sandwich he picked up earlier. He’s startled when Ren appears next to him, holding out the wretched Hello Kitty vessel. 

“Here you go!” he says, placing it on Nanami’s desk, walking back to his own to start munching happily on an egg salad sandwich. 

He wasn’t expecting another bento box today. He actually came prepared this time with his own meal. But he can’t shake this feeling of guilt, as if it would be a sin against humanity if he denied this delicious treat. As if Hello Kitty herself would scorn him for life. 

Also, he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t secretly hoping for this. 

Luckily, he hasn’t taken the food out of his briefcase yet. I’ll just eat it for dinner, he thinks, placing it back to the bottom of his case. 

He stares at Hello Kitty, welcoming her reappearance on his desk. He thanks Ren, then opens the container to start eating. It’s exactly how it was on Monday. Tasty. “Are you sure your sister doesn’t mind making an additional box?”

“She doesn’t mind at all. I think she gets a kick out of it. She actually got emotional about it the other day.”

As he recounts the story, Nanami can’t help but admire his student for remembering a touching memory over something as simple as a sandwich. He also respects the way he describes his sister. She seems nice, he speculates, picturing what she might look like, just so he can put a face to a name. 

Deciding that his thought is innocent enough, he comments, “She seems nice, Nakamura. You are lucky to have a sister like that.” Immediately feeling awkward saying something sentimental out loud, he adds, “I guess I’m lucky too because I’m reaping the benefits of her generosity. Even if I do have to see this damn cat every time.”

Ren chuckles. “Well, get used to it. You’re going to see a lot more of Hello Kitty, whether you like it or not.” 

Nanami smiles. He definitely could get used to this. 

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

Tag List: @liliorsstuff-blog @hughugh20

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

I Love You, Donna Karan

pairing: bucky barnes  x reader (named angela)

word count: 3.5k

comments, likes, reblogs, and suggestions highly appreciated <3

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

"So, I guess that's it. It's over," you sighed, gently pulling your hands back from Bucky's. You sat in a booth at Chubby's across from him, and he was letting you down easy. Not that you were phased. You knew what you were signed up for dating him.

"Two weeks," Bucky smiled apologetically, clasping his hands together. "You knew that going in."

"I did," you nodded, grabbing your things and standing up to leave.

"Wait...w-where are you going?" Bucky looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes.

You scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were done letting me down easy. Go ahead," you raised your eyebrows as you sat back down.

Bucky looked a bit taken aback, "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" you frowned.

"You're just taking this so well," he scrunched up his face like he couldn't understand how someone could still be standing after he rejected them.

"It was a great two weeks. We had fun," you stated plainly.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed.

"So?"

"So...see ya?"

You quirked your lips, nodding slightly before grabbing your things and leaving the booth. You glanced back at him before climbing up the stairs to the exit, unable to figure out his true intentions.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

Bucky Barnes might be a heartbreaker, but you were no saint either. You dated around, landing on John, a guy from your history class who seemed semi-interesting. You were regretting your earlier judgements as he seemed to love talking about himself and stealing your fries more than anything. You sat across from him in Chubby's, consequently the same booth you had shared with Bucky that day you broke up last week.

"So, Angela, the coach says, 'Scooter!' That's what he calls me, Scooter," the boy smiled, so full of himself it made you physically cringe. "'Go in there and save the day.'"

"Gee what happened, Scooter?" you rested your chin in your palm, trying for a grin. How could someone be so interested in himself and so boring to talk to at the same time? You have to make an effort not to roll your eyes. That would be rude. At this point, you would give anything not to hear another one of his heroic tales from the lacrosse team. He was on the bench for God's sake.

"Well, I saved the day," he continued, pointing at himself with both hands like it wasn't clear enough that he couldn't talk about anything else. Then, he leaned forward and had the audacity to ask, "You wanna make out?"

Thankfully, your knight in shining armor appeared...in the form of Bucky. This was going to be interesting. At this point, anything was better than having to press your lips against John's crusty, chapped ones.

"Hey, Bucky," you reached out to pat his arm.

"Hey," Bucky replied. He reached down and picked up your book. "Is this...a book of sonnets?" he sounded surprised for whatever reason.

"Yes," you said incredulously, raising one eyebrow.

Bucky started giggling maniacally, and for some reason, it was contagious. You laughed lightly, asking, "Why are you giggling?"

"Am I?" His voice broke a little because of how high-pitched it was. This only made him giggle even more.

"What's the matter with you?" you frowned, genuinely confused by his behavior.

He turned around, still laughing like a little kid. You saw that he was locking eyes with Steve, who said something to him that you didn't quite catch.

Bucky turned around, locking eyes with you now. He stared straight into your eyes, and you were more than a little weirded out.

"Bucky, why are you looking at me like that?" You were serious now. You didn't like how strange he was being at all.

"Because I never have before...," he trailed off, dropping your book before walking away to talk to Steve.

What a weirdo, you thought before shaking your head and turning back to John.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Monday morning, you walked into school early to ask Mr. Fury a question about the history test. You found Bucky talking to Steve (who's surprised?) and walked up to them, hoping to talk to Bucky about the weirdness at Chubby's. Steve caught your eye, and it seemed like he was announcing your arrival to Bucky which caused him to turn around, look terrified, and bolt in the other direction.

Okay, now he was being even weirder than that night at Chubby's. You were suddenly nervous which made no sense. You were Angela Moore, you didn't get butterflies over boys.

Bucky ran into the janitor's closet and slammed the door behind him. Steve tried to open the door, but Bucky had evidently locked it.

"Hi, Angela," Steve smiled apologetically.

"Hi, Steve," you smiled back, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh, Bucky's in the closet," Steve explained as if you didn't just see him bolt in two seconds ago.

You walked up to the closet, pressing your ear lightly against the door. "Hey, Bucky," you greeted.

"Angela! You smell nice," Bucky replied.

You frowned. "What?" you mouthed to Steve. You rolled your eyes, walking away.

"Hey, Nat," you greeted as you passed her.

"Hey, Angela," she replied back, walking to Steve.

You went to get some water from the drinking fountain before realizing how chapped your lips were. You knew Nat would have some lip gloss you could borrow, so you walked back over to the corner she and Steve were in. Bucky was with them, so you guessed he got over his stay in the janitor's closet. When he saw you, he tried to bolt back into the closet before Nat stopped him and pushed him toward you. What was going on?

"Hey, Bucky," you laughed a little at the frazzled state he was in.

"Hi," he smiled shyly.

"Do you wanna go out and get something to eat later?" you asked. This way you could talk to him, just as friends, without it being weird.

"I'd like that," he replied.

You nodded. "Oh, I saw this, and I thought of you," you smiled, pulling out a seashell you found on the lake trip you took with your dad the day before. You handed it to him before leaving, "See ya."

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

The next day, you found yourself at Chubby's again after school. You picked a table near the stairs this time, with high swivel chairs. Bucky walked over to where you were sitting after picking a song on the jukebox.

"Vivaldi's Four Seasons, I love that," you smiled up at him.

"So do I!" Bucky sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

"It's so beautiful. If you close your eyes, you can actually see the seasons change," you closed your eyes briefly, seeing it even now.

"I said that!" Bucky was smiling a mile wide. "I said the exact same thing." He took a sip of his cola.

"You know, I really like hanging out with you. Maybe we could see a movie later on this week," you suggested.

"I hear there's a new Van Damme movie opening," Bucky grinned, almost as if he knew...

"I love Van Damme," you beamed at him.

"I know," he let out a laugh. "So, how about Friday night?"

"Oh, I have plans with John that night," you rolled your eyes.

"You're still going out with John?" Bucky sounded taken aback.

"Yeah," you said slowly, scoffing a little.

"Oh." Why did he sound...disappointed? "I'd better go check on our food." He turned to leave.

What the heck was that? you thought, sighing. We're just friends, why is he acting so weird?

"Well, here we go," Bucky returned with your fries.

"Great," you picked one up to munch on.

"Can I ask you something?" Bucky was staring at you again...just like the other day you were at Chubby's.

"You can ask me anything." You meant it.

"What do you think of Steve and Nat?" he licked his lips, seemingly nervous like he needed you to tell the truth.

"I think they're a great couple," you nodded, satisfied with your response.

"Maybe we can have what they have." Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Bucky, we're not even dating," you frowned up at him.

"What do you call what we're doing right now?" Oh God, he didn't seriously think that...

"You asked me out on a date, right?" he smiled nervously.

"I asked you to go get something to eat," you stated plainly. So, this is why he was being weird. He...liked you. So why did your heart feel a pang as you let him down easy like he let you down two weeks ago? Why did you feel like saying yes to him despite everything?

"You gave me a seashell," his eyes were pleading now.

You looked down before staring back up into his eyes, "Sometimes a seashell is just a seashell." A beat.

"Look, Angela, I want to be with you more than anybody in this entire world," his eyes carried so much emotion that it was beginning to overwhelm you. "Why can't we be Steve and Nat?"

You frowned, looking down at the food before turning your eyes back to his. "I'm sorry. I gotta go," you frowned at him, grabbing your bag and making a quick exit up the stairs.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Friday, you were once again at Chubby's. That place seriously got a run for its money from the entire John Adams High student body. Even now, you saw about twenty of your classmates warming the other booths.

You were in the same booth as you were during your last date with John. This time, he sat next to you. He was chatting it up about his favorite subject per usual: himself. You sighed, munching on a fry and listening to his pathetic lacrosse bench boy tales when in came Bucky.

Why did he always crash your dates with John?

This time, he cut straight to the point, heading for your booth and sliding in across from the two of you. He held his hands up, "Angela, hear me out. It will just take a minute. You don't mind, do you?" This was directed to John.

"You want a fry?" John mumbled, his mouth full. Gross.

Bucky shook his head before continuing, "Look, I read the same books as you, I listen to the same music, and I go to the same movies. So when I tell you how I feel, it is not just words."

"Barnes, I'm on a date here. Come on," John grumbled. You glanced at him, frowning, before turning your attention back to Bucky.

"Why are you doing this?" you needed to know. Why was he pursuing you relentlessly? So he could break your heart for real next time? "We went out. You told me it was only going to be for two weeks, and then it was going to be over."

"I know that you're scared, okay? I'm scared, too." Bucky gestured with his hands, "We both love Vivaldi, and we're both scared."

"I'm scared, too," John cut in. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, before turning back to Bucky.

"Bucky, you've never been in a relationship for longer than two weeks, and neither have I. We wouldn't know what to do," you stared into his eyes, searching for some sign of his sincerity.

"You know what?" John cut in. "This is getting too heavy for me, so I'm taking my fries and I'm leaving."

"John!" You cried, only halfheartedly.

"Oh, I paid for these fries," he stated before walking out.

You didn't mind him leaving that much. It almost felt like he was crashing your conversation with Bucky rather than the other way around.

"Give me a chance," you had never seen Bucky more serious in the short time you'd known him. "I-I just want to see you."

You lowered your head, glancing up at him, trying to discern whether this was a terrible idea that would crash and burn in the next week.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

You were at Barelli's the next night, next to Bucky. This was definitely a step up from Chubby's, but you weren't sure if all this was necessary. You had worn the nicest thing you owned, a hunter green sleeveless dress. The table was covered with a white tablecloth that was the cleanest thing you had ever seen, and you didn't recognize half the dishes on the menu, including the strange appetizer currently on your table.

"Bucky, this is really fancy," you gestured down at everything covering the table.

"You think this is fancy? I don't think it's that fancy," he took a sip of water as you did. As soon as the glasses left your lips, two waiters were there ready to replace them. Bucky glanced at you, trying not to show how nervous he was.

"Bucky and Angela!" you turned around, finding Steve and Nat, dressed to the stars. "What a surprise, huh?" Steve chuckled.

"Hi, guys," Nat looked perplexed at finding you and Bucky here.

"Talk about coincidences," Steve looked too happy for this to be accidental. Of course, he would plan something like this. "Of all the restaurants in the town."

"Yeah, and all the suits," Bucky added, which you didn't understand, but you shrugged it off.

"Enjoy," Steve and Nat left you to find their own table.

The maitre d' appeared, "I have come to take your order. You no touch the pate. It's not good?"

"I really don't know what it is," Bucky frowned up at the maitre d'.

"It's...como si dice? Goose liver," he answered.

You swallowed, trying not to gag in front of the fancy maitre d' while Bucky made his grossed-out face at you.

"You requested it when you telephoned this afternoon," he continued.

"When I called, did I sound like I had curly hair and was ninety?" Bucky asked.

"Si," the maitre d' responded jovially.

After he left, you turned to your companion. "Bucky, you said you knew me. If you really knew me, why would you bring me here?"

Bucky hesitated, then pursed his lips before starting, "Because I have...no idea what I'm doing." Another pause. He started gesturing with his hands, "I-I don't know how to be myself around you. I really want you to like me, Angela."

"I do like you. If I didn't I wouldn't be here," you responded genuinely.

"So, then why is this so hard?" Bucky sounded slightly exasperated.

"I've never had a serious relationship either," you admitted. "Every time I got close to someone, I just figured it was best to get away before we hurt each other. Is someone gonna get hurt here, Bucky?"

Bucky looked long and hard at you before saying simply, "No. No, not if we're ourselves."

You looked down, swallowing, trying to convince yourself to believe he was being sincere.

"Hey, Eduardo," Bucky signaled over the maitre d'.

"Si?"

"Could you get rid of this and just bring us a couple of burgers?"

"You no like?" the maitre d' sounded miffed.

"No," Bucky stated simply, giving you a small smile.

"We like burgers," you added, returning the smile.

The maitre d' clapped, thankfully asking no further questions. "Barelli's is a place where all your dreams come true." He snapped his fingers at the waiter. "Two burgers!"

"Fries," you called. Very important.

"Oh, yeah, and get some ketchup, too," Bucky added. Essential.

"Hmm!" the maitre d' looked appalled, but he turned away, complying with your wishes.

Bucky turned back to you, "Do you mind if I take this tie off?"

"Oh, please, never wear a tie again, okay?" you leaned forward to loosen it for him. Bucky chuckled. "Why do you have that thing anyway? It can't be yours."

Bucky worked at loosening his tie further, tilting his head as he looked up at you, "Well, you know, I'm not one to give up any names, but...Steve. All of this was Steve." He smiled apologetically, "He's a good guy. He just wants us to have what he and Nat have.

The two of you glanced over to the other side of the restaurant.

"That's it! I have had it!" Nat stood up, throwing down her napkin, raising her hands up in frustration at Steve. "I don't want to put the Sweet'N Low in my purse!"

Steve shushed her vigorously, glancing around surreptitiously as if checking to make sure no one had heard her outburst. "You're going to get us in trouble in our place!"

"I don't want this to be our place!" Nat screeched.

"You're ruining our anniversary!" Steve whined.

"What anniversary is this anyway? Is this the first time we kissed? The first time we went out? The first time we met? What? What is it?" Nat was running her mouth a mile a minute, drilling Steve faster than you could keep up.

"It's the anniversary of the first time we ate at Barelli's! How could you forget?" poor Steve sounded genuinely upset.

"Because I hate Barelli's!" Nat sounded even more upset. "I am 50 years away from going to Barelli's! Can't we just go downtown and grab a pretzel from a cart?!"

"Fine! I'm not making you happy? Go!" Steve shouted. "You think you're going to find somebody else at your age?"

Nat was clearly holding back her next words, bringing her hands up, her perfect french manicure glinting in the dim lighting of the restaurant.

The maitre d' came back out with a consternated expression, "Signora Nat, I must request that you keep your voice down!" He sounded pained.

Nat actually growled at the maitre d' who recoiled immediately. "Thank you so much," he left quickly at that.

As comical as your friends' fight was, you couldn't help but feel nervous. "This is what scares me. You get close to someone, and you end up hating each other."

"Angela, there's nothing to be scared of," Bucky gave you that boyish grin he had perfected over his many years of flirting. "When two people are truly, truly in love, there's no way they can end up hating each other."

"Steve, look at us!" you turned your attention back to Nat who was once again taking it out on Steve. "I am yelling at you, and you're not even getting mad at me."

"Grrr," Steve gave the saddest attempt at a growl you had ever witnessed. Even the baby lion cubs at the zoo could do better. You had to laugh at that, grinning at Bucky to know it was okay.

Nat laughed in his face, "You call that a growl? That was pathetic."

Steve's face split into the inkling of a smile, "Well, I could never really get mad at you."

Nat was calmer now, "Steve, I just don't want to celebrate any more occasions."

"I-I was just doing it 'cause I thought that's what you wanted," Steve looked more amused than anything else.

"No! I just want to be seventeen."

"Me too." At that, Steve cleared the table, pushing all the expensive dishes off the table where they crashed loudly into the ground. Eduardo came out of the kitchen, screaming as Steve pushed Nat against the table, kissing her so passionately that it would make Romeo jealous.

You and Bucky grinned at them. "Bucky?"

"Angela?" he turned back to face you.

"I want what they have," you said before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss to his soft pink lips. Pulling apart, you looked up at him, noticing for the first time that there was a little green in those ocean eyes of his. You smiled at each other, realizing that everything would be okay. You would give this a try because you knew you could trust him to like you as much as you found yourself liking him.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

A week later, Bucky picked you up to come over for Thanksgiving at the apartment with Sam and Clint. The Rogers were with you, arms loaded up with various dishes for the big dinner.

Morgan opened the door to the apartment.

"Hey! Look, Clint, they found our turkey," clearly Sam had failed to procure and cook one himself. He eyed the one Mr. Fury was holding with palpable relief written all over his face.

"Did you two actually believe that we thought you could pull this off, huh?" Tony asked them as he walked in.

"You guys can't make toast," Morgan smirked at them.

"Sam, do you at least have some clean dishes?" Pepper asked, disappointment already on her face.

"No," he grinned at her, totally unashamed at the barren state of his kitchen.

"I'll carve the bird," Mr. Fury pronounced. "Now, everybody wants dark meat, right?"

"No!" everyone shouted in unison.

"I'm so glad I'm here, Bucky," you smiled up at him. He held out his hand for your taking before he walked the two of you into the apartment.

"Um, before we sit down, I'd like to say thanks for all the good things that have happened to us," Bucky announced to the family. "And to me," he added quietly, locking eyes with you once more.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[angela-moore1996]

I Love You, Donna Karan

show: boy meets world <3

pairing: shawn hunter x angela!reader

synopsis: pretty much exactly like s5 e8 of bmw (just the shawngela parts <3)

word count: 3.5k

comments, likes, reblogs, and suggestions highly appreciated <3

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

"So, I guess that's it. It's over," you sighed, gently pulling your hands back from Shawn's. You sat in a booth at Chubby's across from him, and he was letting you down easy. Not that you were phased. You knew what you were signed up for dating him.

"Two weeks," Shawn smiled apologetically, clasping his hands together. "You knew that going in."

"I did," you nodded, grabbing your things and standing up to leave.

"Wait...w-where are you going?" Shawn looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes.

You scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were done letting me down easy. Go ahead," you raised your eyebrows as you sat back down.

Shawn looked a bit taken aback, "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" you frowned.

"You're just taking this so well," he scrunched up his face like he couldn't understand how someone could still be standing after he rejected them.

"It was a great two weeks. We had fun," you stated plainly.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed.

"So?"

"So...see ya?"

You quirked your lips, nodding slightly before grabbing your things and leaving the booth. You glanced back at him before climbing up the stairs to the exit, unable to figure out his true intentions.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

Shawn Hunter might be a heartbreaker, but you were no saint either. You dated around, landing on Ted, a guy from your history class who seemed semi-interesting. You were regretting your earlier judgements as he seemed to love talking about himself and stealing your fries more than anything. You sat across from him in Chubby's, consequently the same booth you had shared with Shawn that day you broke up last week.

"So, Angela, the coach says, 'Scooter!' That's what he calls me, Scooter," the boy smiled, so full of himself it made you physically cringe. "'Go in there and save the day.'"

"Gee what happened, Scooter?" you rested your chin in your palm, trying for a grin. How could someone be so interested in himself and so boring to talk to at the same time? You have to make an effort not to roll your eyes. That would be rude. At this point, you would give anything not to hear another one of his heroic tales from the lacrosse team. He was on the bench for God's sake.

"Well, I saved the day," he continued, pointing at himself with both hands like it wasn't clear enough that he couldn't talk about anything else. Then, he leaned forward and had the audacity to ask, "You wanna make out?"

Thankfully, your knight in shining armor appeared...in the form of Shawn. This was going to be interesting. At this point, anything was better than having to press your lips against Ted's crusty, chapped ones.

"Hey, Shawn," you reached out to pat his arm.

"Hey," Shawn replied. He reached down and picked up your book. "Is this...a book of sonnets?" he sounded surprised for whatever reason.

"Yes," you said incredulously, raising one eyebrow.

Shawn started giggling maniacally, and for some reason, it was contagious. You laughed lightly, asking, "Why are you giggling?"

"Am I?" His voice broke a little because of how high-pitched it was. This only made him giggle even more.

"What's the matter with you?" you frowned, genuinely confused by his behavior.

He turned around, still laughing like a little kid. You saw that he was locking eyes with Cory, who said something to him that you didn't quite catch.

Shawn turned around, locking eyes with you now. He stared straight into your eyes, and you were more than a little weirded out.

"Shawn, why are you looking at me like that?" You were serious now. You didn't like how strange he was being at all.

"Because I never have before...," he trailed off, dropping your book before walking away to talk to Cory.

What a weirdo, you thought before shaking your head and turning back to Ted.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Monday morning, you walked into school early to ask Mr. Feeny a question about the history test. You found Shawn talking to Cory (who's surprised?) and walked up to them, hoping to talk to Shawn about the weirdness at Chubby's. Cory caught your eye, and it seemed like he was announcing your arrival to Shawn which caused him to turn around, look terrified, and bolt in the other direction.

Okay, now he was being even weirder than that night at Chubby's. You were suddenly nervous which made no sense. You were Angela Moore, you didn't get butterflies over boys.

Shawn ran into the janitor's closet and slammed the door behind him. Cory tried to open the door, but Shawn had evidently locked it.

"Hi, Angela," Cory smiled apologetically.

"Hi, Cory," you smiled back, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh, Shawn's in the closet," Cory explained as if you didn't just see him bolt in two seconds ago.

You walked up to the closet, pressing your ear lightly against the door. "Hey, Shawn," you greeted.

"Angela! You smell nice," Shawn replied.

You frowned. "What?" you mouthed to Cory. You rolled your eyes, walking away.

"Hey, Topanga," you greeted as you passed her.

"Hey, Angela," she replied back, walking to Cory.

You went to get some water from the drinking fountain before realizing how chapped your lips were. You knew Topanga would have some lip gloss you could borrow, so you walked back over to the corner she and Cory were in. Shawn was with them, so you guessed he got over his stay in the janitor's closet. When he saw you, he tried to bolt back into the closet before Topanga stopped him and pushed him toward you. What was going on?

"Hey, Shawn," you laughed a little at the frazzled state he was in.

"Hi," he smiled shyly.

"Do you wanna go out and get something to eat later?" you asked. This way you could talk to him, just as friends, without it being weird.

"I'd like that," he replied.

You nodded. "Oh, I saw this, and I thought of you," you smiled, pulling out a seashell you found on the lake trip you took with your dad the day before. You handed it to him before leaving, "See ya."

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

The next day, you found yourself at Chubby's again after school. You picked a table near the stairs this time, with high swivel chairs. Shawn walked over to where you were sitting after picking a song on the jukebox.

"Vivaldi's Four Seasons, I love that," you smiled up at him.

"So do I!" Shawn sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

"It's so beautiful. If you close your eyes, you can actually see the seasons change," you closed your eyes briefly, seeing it even now.

"I said that!" Shawn was smiling a mile wide. "I said the exact same thing." He took a sip of his cola.

"You know, I really like hanging out with you. Maybe we could see a movie later on this week," you suggested.

"I hear there's a new Van Damme movie opening," Shawn grinned, almost as if he knew...

"I love Van Damme," you beamed at him.

"I know," he let out a laugh. "So, how about Friday night?"

"Oh, I have plans with Ted that night," you rolled your eyes.

"You're still going out with Ted?" Shawn sounded taken aback.

"Yeah," you said slowly, scoffing a little.

"Oh." Why did he sound...disappointed? "I'd better go check on our food." He turned to leave.

What the heck was that? you thought, sighing. We're just friends, why is he acting so weird?

"Well, here we go," Shawn returned with your fries.

"Great," you picked one up to munch on.

"Can I ask you something?" Shawn was staring at you again...just like the other day you were at Chubby's.

"You can ask me anything." You meant it.

"What do you think of Cory and Topanga?" he licked his lips, seemingly nervous like he needed you to tell the truth.

"I think they're a great couple," you nodded, satisfied with your response.

"Maybe we can have what they have." Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Shawn, we're not even dating," you frowned up at him.

"What do you call what we're doing right now?" Oh God, he didn't seriously think that...

"You asked me out on a date, right?" he smiled nervously.

"I asked you to go get something to eat," you stated plainly. So, this is why he was being weird. He...liked you. So why did your heart feel a pang as you let him down easy like he let you down two weeks ago? Why did you feel like saying yes to him despite everything?

"You gave me a seashell," his eyes were pleading now.

You looked down before staring back up into his eyes, "Sometimes a seashell is just a seashell." A beat.

"Look, Angela, I want to be with you more than anybody in this entire world," his eyes carried so much emotion that it was beginning to overwhelm you. "Why can't we be Cory and Topanga?"

You frowned, looking down at the food before turning your eyes back to his. "I'm sorry. I gotta go," you frowned at him, grabbing your bag and making a quick exit up the stairs.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Friday, you were once again at Chubby's. That place seriously got a run for its money from the entire John Adams High student body. Even now, you saw about twenty of your classmates warming the other booths.

You were in the same booth as you were during your last date with Ted. This time, he sat next to you. He was chatting it up about his favorite subject per usual: himself. You sighed, munching on a fry and listening to his pathetic lacrosse bench boy tales when in came Shawn.

Why did he always crash your dates with Ted?

This time, he cut straight to the point, heading for your booth and sliding in across from the two of you. He held his hands up, "Angela, hear me out. It will just take a minute. You don't mind, do you?" This was directed to Ted.

"You want a fry?" Ted mumbled, his mouth full. Gross.

Shawn shook his head before continuing, "Look, I read the same books as you, I listen to the same music, and I go to the same movies. So when I tell you how I feel, it is not just words."

"Hunter, I'm on a date here. Come on," Ted grumbled. You glanced at him, frowning, before turning your attention back to Shawn.

"Why are you doing this?" you needed to know. Why was he pursuing you relentlessly? So he could break your heart for real next time? "We went out. You told me it was only going to be for two weeks, and then it was going to be over."

"I know that you're scared, okay? I'm scared, too." Shawn gestured with his hands, "We both love Vivaldi, and we're both scared."

"I'm scared, too," Ted cut in. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, before turning back to Shawn.

"Shawn, you've never been in a relationship for longer than two weeks, and neither have I. We wouldn't know what to do," you stared into his eyes, searching for some sign of his sincerity.

"You know what?" Ted cut in. "This is getting too heavy for me, so I'm taking my fries and I'm leaving."

"Ted!" You cried, only halfheartedly.

"Oh, I paid for these fries," he stated before walking out.

You didn't mind him leaving that much. It almost felt like he was crashing your conversation with Shawn rather than the other way around.

"Give me a chance," you had never seen Shawn more serious in the short time you'd known him. "I-I just want to see you."

You lowered your head, glancing up at him, trying to discern whether this was a terrible idea that would crash and burn in the next week.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

You were at Barelli's the next night, next to Shawn. This was definitely a step up from Chubby's, but you weren't sure if all this was necessary. You had worn the nicest thing you owned, a hunter green sleeveless dress. The table was covered with a white tablecloth that was the cleanest thing you had ever seen, and you didn't recognize half the dishes on the menu, including the strange appetizer currently on your table.

"Shawn, this is really fancy," you gestured down at everything covering the table.

"You think this is fancy? I don't think it's that fancy," he took a sip of water as you did. As soon as the glasses left your lips, two waiters were there ready to replace them. Shawn glanced at you, trying not to show how nervous he was.

"Shawn and Angela!" you turned around, finding Cory and Topanga, dressed to the stars. "What a surprise, huh?" Cory chuckled.

"Hi, guys," Topanga looked perplexed at finding you and Shawn here.

"Talk about coincidences," Cory looked too happy for this to be accidental. Of course, he would plan something like this. "Of all the restaurants in the town."

"Yeah, and all the suits," Shawn added, which you didn't understand, but you shrugged it off.

"Enjoy," Cory and Topanga left you to find their own table.

The maitre d' appeared, "I have come to take your order. You no touch the pate. It's not good?"

"I really don't know what it is," Shawn frowned up at the maitre d'.

"It's...como si dice? Goose liver," he answered.

You swallowed, trying not to gag in front of the fancy maitre d' while Shawn made his grossed-out face at you.

"You requested it when you telephoned this afternoon," he continued.

"When I called, did I sound like I had curly hair and was ninety?" Shawn asked.

"Si," the maitre d' responded jovially.

After he left, you turned to your companion. "Shawn, you said you knew me. If you really knew me, why would you bring me here?"

Shawn hesitated, then pursed his lips before starting, "Because I have...no idea what I'm doing." Another pause. He started gesturing with his hands, "I-I don't know how to be myself around you. I really want you to like me, Angela."

"I do like you. If I didn't I wouldn't be here," you responded genuinely.

"So, then why is this so hard?" Shawn sounded slightly exasperated.

"I've never had a serious relationship either," you admitted. "Every time I got close to someone, I just figured it was best to get away before we hurt each other. Is someone gonna get hurt here, Shawn?"

Shawn looked long and hard at you before saying simply, "No. No, not if we're ourselves."

You looked down, swallowing, trying to convince yourself to believe he was being sincere.

"Hey, Eduardo," Shawn signaled over the maitre d'.

"Si?"

"Could you get rid of this and just bring us a couple of burgers?"

"You no like?" the maitre d' sounded miffed.

"No," Shawn stated simply, giving you a small smile.

"We like burgers," you added, returning the smile.

The maitre d' clapped, thankfully asking no further questions. "Barelli's is a place where all your dreams come true." He snapped his fingers at the waiter. "Two burgers!"

"Fries," you called. Very important.

"Oh, yeah, and get some ketchup, too," Shawn added. Essential.

"Hmm!" the maitre d' looked appalled, but he turned away, complying with your wishes.

Shawn turned back to you, "Do you mind if I take this tie off?"

"Oh, please, never wear a tie again, okay?" you leaned forward to loosen it for him. Shawn chuckled. "Why do you have that thing anyway? It can't be yours."

Shawn worked at loosening his tie further, tilting his head as he looked up at you, "Well, you know, I'm not one to give up any names, but...Cory. All of this was Cory." He smiled apologetically, "He's a good guy. He just wants us to have what he and Topanga have.

The two of you glanced over to the other side of the restaurant.

"That's it! I have had it!" Topanga stood up, throwing down her napkin, raising her hands up in frustration at Cory. "I don't want to put the Sweet'N Low in my purse!"

Cory shushed her vigorously, glancing around surreptitiously as if checking to make sure no one had heard her outburst. "You're going to get us in trouble in our place!"

"I don't want this to be our place!" Topanga screeched.

"You're ruining our anniversary!" Cory whined.

"What anniversary is this anyway? Is this the first time we kissed? The first time we went out? The first time we met? What? What is it?" Topanga was running her mouth a mile a minute, drilling Cory faster than you could keep up.

"It's the anniversary of the first time we ate at Barelli's! How could you forget?" poor Cory sounded genuinely upset.

"Because I hate Barelli's!" Topanga sounded even more upset. "I am 50 years away from going to Barelli's! Can't we just go downtown and grab a pretzel from a cart?!"

"Fine! I'm not making you happy? Go!" Cory shouted. "You think you're going to find somebody else at your age?"

Topanga was clearly holding back her next words, bringing her hands up, her perfect french manicure glinting in the dim lighting of the restaurant.

The maitre d' came back out with a consternated expression, "Signora Topanga, I must request that you keep your voice down!" He sounded pained.

Topanga actually growled at the maitre d' who recoiled immediately. "Thank you so much," he left quickly at that.

As comical as your friends' fight was, you couldn't help but feel nervous. "This is what scares me. You get close to someone, and you end up hating each other."

"Angela, there's nothing to be scared of," Shawn gave you that boyish grin he had perfected over his many years of flirting. "When two people are truly, truly in love, there's no way they can end up hating each other."

"Cory, look at us!" you turned your attention back to Topanga who was once again taking it out on Cory. "I am yelling at you, and you're not even getting mad at me."

"Grrr," Cory gave the saddest attempt at a growl you had ever witnessed. Even the baby lion cubs at the zoo could do better. You had to laugh at that, grinning at Shawn to know it was okay.

Topanga laughed in his face, "You call that a growl? That was pathetic."

Cory's face split into the inkling of a smile, "Well, I could never really get mad at you."

Topanga was calmer now, "Cory, I just don't want to celebrate any more occasions."

"I-I was just doing it 'cause I thought that's what you wanted," Cory looked more amused than anything else.

"No! I just want to be seventeen."

"Me too." At that, Cory cleared the table, pushing all the expensive dishes off the table where they crashed loudly into the ground. Eduardo came out of the kitchen, screaming as Cory pushed Topanga against the table, kissing her so passionately that it would make Romeo jealous.

You and Shawn grinned at them. "Shawn?"

"Angela?" he turned back to face you.

"I want what they have," you said before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss to his soft pink lips. Pulling apart, you looked up at him, noticing for the first time that there was a little green in those ocean eyes of his. You smiled at each other, realizing that everything would be okay. You would give this a try because you knew you could trust him to like you as much as you found yourself liking him.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

A week later, Shawn picked you up to come over for Thanksgiving at the apartment with Eric and Jack. The Matthews were with you, arms loaded up with various dishes for the big dinner.

Morgan opened the door to the apartment.

"Hey! Look, Jack, they found our turkey," clearly Eric had failed to procure and cook one himself. He eyed the one Mr. Feeney was holding with palpable relief written all over his face.

"Did you two actually believe that we thought you could pull this off, huh?" Mr. Matthews asked them as he walked in.

"You guys can't make toast," Morgan smirked at them.

"Eric, do you at least have some clean dishes?" Mrs. Matthews asked, disappointment already on her face.

"No," he grinned at his mom, totally unashamed at the barren state of his kitchen.

"I'll carve the bird," Mr. Feeney pronounced. "Now, everybody wants dark meat, right?"

"No!" everyone shouted in unison.

"I'm so glad I'm here, Shawn," you smiled up at him. He held out his hand for your taking before he walked the two of you into the apartment.

"Um, before we sit down, I'd like to say thanks for all the good things that have happened to us," Shawn announced to the family. "And to me," he added quietly, locking eyes with you once more.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[tiredmako]

⭒ morning chats ~ jason todd ⭒

golly jeepers its my first official fic on this acc?! originally this was gonna be mr cole cass but... jason todd is just better, yk? yk?!!? also sorry its short... i just wanted to post sum

waking up besides jason todd was a rare occurrence. there was... a lot of reasons for this. be it losing track of time on patrol or deciding to make an early breakfast, this man just never seemed to wake up in bed next to his favorite person.

that special, special person? y/n. duh. who else?

that's why it's so easy to cherish moments like these- moments where jason was peacefully resting across from them, his chest rising and falling as he slept. this was nice. just knowing he was safe instead of risking his life (as he did on a nightly basis) brought a great amount of comfort. it's not like they had anything against his crime fighting- no. quite the opposite. it was something more like... when jason's out in the streets protecting the innocents, who's there to protect him? he was innocent himself, in a way. just a young boy who fell victim to a cruel man. a cruel world.

their train of thought was broken by jason pulling them into his chest. they'd previously had a few inches of distance between them and jason's arms draped around them, which had allowed y/n to more easily admire him. now that he'd pulled them so close to his body, all they could do was softly giggle and bask in his warm embrace.

"you awake, baby?" y/n asked in a hushed whisper, not wanting to wake him if their suspicions were wrong.

"yeah." he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the crown of their head. "how'd you sleep?"

"fine." they shrugged, tracing the scars on his bare back. jason could feel the goosebumps appear on his arms as they did so. their touches were so soft. so gentle- especially compared to the various ways he's received those scars. "you?"

"it was alright. could've been better."

"so, uhm. i had this dream..."

"tell me about it- wait, no. let me guess." jason paused for a moment, thinking. "cannibalistic parrots?"

"i- what?" y/n giggled at his unusual guess. "no, you weirdo. i'm being serious!"

"okay, okay!" jason laughed. "tell me about your dream, love."

"it wasn't anything weird, like you were suggesting." they hummed, sounding slightly more serious. "it was... me and you. but older. we lived in this big, beautiful house with a dog and a cat. there was one more thing, though." y/n paused. "we had a little girl. sheila. we were thinking about another."

jason didn't respond. y/n anxiously swallowed.

"jason?"

"sorry. just thinking." he trailed off for a moment. "is that the kind of thing you'd want? i mean, with me."

"if that's something you want too, then yes. not any time soon, obviously. and jason, i wouldn't want that life with anybody else. you're my favorite person- there isn't any part of you that i don't love. i don't think that'd be possible. you don't have to answer right now, but just something to think about for the future."

jason smiled at their words. they always knew how to make him feel like the most special man in the world- hell, he had to be to have ended up with an angel such as them. he closed his eyes and imagined just what had been described to him. a big, beautiful house. white picket fence and flowers growing in the front hard. a dog and a cat causing ruckus constantly. a little girl to watch grow and teach right from wrong.

a big, beautiful home he could relax in whenever he was stressed or tired. a dog and cat to play with and love. a little girl to dote over and raise. and finally, his beautiful partner waiting for him. maybe, they'd be married too. a wonderful family to come home to and look forward to seeing everyday.

that didn't sound half bad.

"yeah. i think... i think that's the kind of thing i'd want too."

like + reblog for kisses

[jeonqkooks]

Congratulations once again on the milestone Jen! You are amazing and deserve every big milestone coming your way! For the request can I please get prompt 19-“i’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.” with Jin? Thank you in advance and I hope you have fun writing it!

pink bean fever | ksj

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre/warnings: best friend's roommate to ??, college au, fluff, swearing, mentions of pink bean but they're 1000% inaccurate bc i know nothing about maple story pls don't come for me, unedited !!

word count: 1.8k

note: jiya !! thank you so much for requesting this :') i had fun with it and i hope you like it too!! also, it's still jinnie's birthday somewhere so i will still consider this a birthday fic lol

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Kim Namjoon, you’re going to kill him.

Kim fucking Namjoon.

Forty five minutes ago, you were getting ready to walk to your best friend's dorm so you two could go get dinner together somewhere nearby. Now, you're sitting on his bed, Namjoon nowhere in sight, just a few feet from his roommate Seokjin.

The guy that you have the biggest, fattest crush on.

You swear Namjoon did this on purpose. That motherfucker.

You watch Seokjin as he practically screams into the mic attached to his headset, his fingers skillfully bouncing on the keyboard of the laptop in front of him, playing a game you know nothing about.

"Jungkook ah! Where the fuck were you?! I almost got killed!"

This has been going on for almost twenty minutes now - you awkwardly perched on Namjoon's bed while Seokjin either screeches in excitement when he wins, or wails in agony when he loses the game. This is the fucking worst way to spend a Saturday evening.

You glance at your phone, praying to every god to make Namjoon reply to your hundredth text message cursing him out and asking where he is. You never should've told him about your crush on his roommate. He even had the audacity to laugh when you finally revealed who the object of your affection was. That fucking guy.

Objectively speaking, Seokjin is pretty lame. From what you can tell, he basically has no social life. He doesn't party, doesn't go out, doesn't take an interest in anything that doesn't have the words "Maple Story", "Super Mario", or "League of Legends" in it. All he does is play video games all day with his friends, whom you assume are the same people he's yelling at now. Namjoon told you that once, Seokjin forgot to eat anything for two days straight because he was on his computer the entire time.

That begs the question: If Seokjin was so lame, why are you so enamored with him? The answer is very simple. Seokjin is as cute as he is lame, which is to say that he is very fucking cute. When you met him earlier in the semester when Namjoon got assigned a new roommate, it was love at first sight.

However, you don't think you've ever held a one-on-one conversation with him before. Tonight might be the first time, when he opened the door for you and said you could wait for Namjoon here. You had squeaked out a shy Yes and followed him into the room where he offered you a glass of water before he returned to his computer, leaving you to wait around for a person you knew had left you to fend for yourself in the wilderness. This is exactly why Namjoon is doing this, you think. He's been telling you for a couple weeks now to just talk to Seokjin like a normal person instead of tripping over your words like a lovestruck idiot.

Occassionally, he looks over his shoulder at you, and you have to whip your head to the other side of the room so quickly you're surprised you didn't pull a muscle, just to not make it obvious that you've been staring at him like a weirdo.

After a while, Seokjin takes off his headset only to replace it with a hat. A... cap? You don't even know what it is. It's got a face of something pink with big round eyes and purple horns, and looks like it should be a plushie instead of something to wear on one's head. His friends have probably gone elsewhere, because he turns off the shooter game he was previously engaged in to play something else by himself.

"Sorry," he says. "I was pretty loud, wasn't I?"

"No, it's fine. I didn't mind," you tell him sheepishly. "Did Joon, uh, tell you when he'd be back?"

Seokjin shrugs. "No. He just said he was going for a quick walk. Went out right before you got here, actually."

Someone give you strength.

He turns back to his screen when you give a hum in acknowledgement. You go back to sitting in silence again, only this time, you notice that when he curses at the game, he makes an effort to lower his volume. Seokjin has a really nice voice, you think. Even when he's cussing, you just want to put it on a tape and listen to it for hours on end.

Okay, that is one thought that you should probably never say aloud. Especially not to Kim fucking Namjoon.

Another 15 minutes pass until Seokjin pauses the game to down the glass of water on the table in front of you - the one between his and Namjoon's bed. You pretend to look around the room even though you've got it memorized at this point. It's pretty small, and the guys don't really have a lot of decorations. Aside from a couple of Namjoon's art prints on the wall and a few of Seokjin's stuffed animals - how fucking cute is that? Jesus Christ, you are so whipped - the room doesn't have that much personality.

You can feel him looking at you as he gulps down his water, clearly not knowing what to say either. You could pass out from the sheer awkwardness that's suffocating the space.

You clear your throat. "Can I, uhm, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What is that on your head?"

Seokjin puts down the glass and takes off his cap, holding it out so you can see it better. "Pink Bean!" he says with a grin. Goddamn, he is beautiful.

"Is that a character?"

He gasps, running a hand through his hair - which looks so, so soft that you want nothing more than to just run your fingers through it. His eyes widen until they're almost as big as the ones on the strange Bean creature. "You don't know what Pink Bean is?!"

"Should I?" you ask, unconsciously making yourself smaller as he stares at you. Seokjin looks equally as excited as he looks offended, shooting up from his chair to bounce onto Namjoon's bed, right next to you.

Your chest almost explodes. In your head, there's a series of question marks floating around; in your heart, there's a bunch of exclamation points detonating like fireworks. Oh god, what is happening?

"Uhm, yes! It's just one of my favorite characters of all time, duh! Okay, okay, so-"

Seokjin launches straight into a whole TED talk on Pink Bean, giving you its extensive backstory and just about everything in the universe that's related to Pink Bean - the quests, its powers, something called a Chaos Pink Bean? Every word he's saying is going into one ear and out the other. To you, he might as well be speaking a different language because you understand none of it and frankly, you don't even care.

But holy moly, he is so passionate about it. He talks about this stuff like Pink Bean is the love of his life and he's gonna marry it one day. Even though you're retaining about zero percent of all this information, watching him ramble is so endearing. His eyes are so bright, and throughout this impromptu presentation of his, he has to pause for a few seconds to catch his breath from all the talking.

You stifle a laugh, and he stops. Seokjin scratches his neck, putting the cap on his head again and looking at you with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to talk your ears off."

"No, no, it's just-" You shake your head with a chuckle. "I've never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you freeze. He freezes. You want the ground to open up so you could fall into that chasm and never be seen again. Life does not have any meaning anymore. Fuck Namjoon, you're not staying here anymore.

"I mean- Not that I think you're cute, it's just- Well, wait, no, I do think you're cute, but it's not-"

You could see a deep blush painting Seokjin's face, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. You tear your eyes away from him like the idiot that you are. Your lips part, but no words come out because your brain is just blank at this point. You knew you would say something dumb and now you're knee-deep in embarrassment in front of your crush. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

Seokjin clears his throat. "Do you and Namjoon have plans tonight?"

You purse your lips and nod, though you're not sure if he's still looking at you because you're suddenly so keen on not looking at him. "We're just getting dinner," you say with faux nonchalance, as if you hadn't just called him cute two seconds ago and both of you seemed to have absolutely no idea what to do about it. "Joon said there's a new ramen place or something near campus."

"Is it the place where they have ramen sliders? I told him about that place. I've been meaning to go too but, uhm, I don't have anyone to go with."

Oh, hell no. You are not going to invite him to join you and Namjoon after that comment. In fact, you're not going to see Seokjin ever again. You're going to make Namjoon apply for a room reassignment just so you don't have to cross paths with Seokjin. Welp, this silly crush has been fun and miserable. Goodbye forever-

"If Namjoon ditches you, we can probably go together. Or something. Maybe. I don't know."

Your body stiffens, and you know he can probably tell since he's still sitting so close to you and you're not exactly being subtle. Heat creeps up your neck and splatters color onto your cheeks. You're thankful that your hair can cover some of it to preserve what little dignity you have left.

"It's okay. You don't have to. I'll probably- I should, no-" you stammer, "I'll just go home."

"Y/N," Seokjin says, "it's dinner. I'm pretty sure we'll survive a meal together."

"No, I know. It's-"

"Okay. Then let's go."

Before you can say anything, he's standing up. Your panicked eyes follow him as he moves to his side of the room to grab his jacket and ditch the Pink Bean hat. You rush to your feet, spluttering out every polite variation of No, please don't make me do this. I'm practically in love with you and this will only kill me dead that you could think off, but Seokjin is already ushering you out the door.

When he stops by the entryway to grab his keys on bowl next to the door, you could feel his chest pressed against your back. You're going insane with nerves and butterflies and mortification and anticipation and infatuation with this man and this is not fucking helping.

Behind you, Seokjin's low voice sends shivers down your spine with what he tells you next.

"For the record, I think you're cute too."

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 05/12/22]

[rogerswifesblog]

Chapter 8 - it’s all about the…

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Previous

A/N: Hello!:) here’s the next chapter after the little cliffhanger! I hope you’ll like it, I’d appreciate it a lot if you’d leave a comment or reblog 🥰

Thank you @jamneuromain for helping me with the idea for the ending/bonus part <3

Warnings: alcohol consumption, puking, implied assault/ assault, not Sharon friendly! (Sorry)

Pairing: stripper Steve Rogers x sugar mommy reader

You tried to find Steve in the group of dancing people that were grinding on each other rather than actually dancing, but Steve was nowhere to be found. At this point you felt incredibly stressed.

Where the hell was he?

And then you walked into the garage.

And there he was.

Playing beer pong, stumbling over his own legs and bumping into the table while trying to throw the ball into one of the cups (missing completely.)

“Steve! I thought something happened?” hearing your voice, Steve's head shot in your direction, his face lighting up even though also looking incredibly confused. “Hi Mommy-Wait-why are you here? What are you doing here? You wanna watch me win this match?” Steve sounded even dunker than before as he stumbled to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

Slightly confused you pushed him away, enough to look him in the face. He seemed confused, but happy. Or just drunk, definitely drunk. “Steve, you texted me to pick you up-then you called, too”, you said as gently as possible, taking his hands. You could feel many gazes on you, making your throat tighten. All this attention was awful.

“I didn’t text you mommy”, he whined against your neck, making you shake your head lightly and pushing him once again away to look at him. “Steve, you called me,” “No I didn’t?” “Yes you did! Check your phone”

So Steve took out his phone, checking your chat, furrowing his eyebrows at his bright screen. “oh…I did.”

At first you thought he was joking about not remembering it, but seeing how he was swaying while standing and looking at his phone you knew he was wasted more than before. “Let’s go home baby, ill warm up some of the salmon-or maybe you wanna grab some fast food on our way home?”

You watched him stumble one step back, nearly falling but you grabbed him quickly by the arm and pulled him a bit closer. “But I’m winning in beer pong. You wanna watch me win this match?”

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked at the table with the cups filled with beer. "Steve this is your sixth beer and the other side has only two empty cups. You’re not winning. Please let’s go. Now. Home.” Steve pouted at you, but when you took his hand he nodded slowly, seemingly unhappy about needing to end the match.

While walking out of the garage he waved back at his friends before looking back at you. “Wait-I gotta find Bucky-I need to tell them I’m going home-they’ll be worried-“, he slurred, ending his speech with a hiccup.

You could already feel his headache in the morning.

He’d have a massive hangover in the morning and you wouldn’t even feel sorry for him. He did this to himself.

Okay, you’d feel slightly sorry, but you wouldn’t show it.

“Give me your phone and open Buckys chat.” Without any protests he took out his phone, failing twice with his passcode so you helped him, not wanting to block his phone. While you texted Bucky Steve leaned more of his weight against you, smelling your hair. He was definitely your sweet weirdo. “Stevie, stop that I can’t concentrate-“ “but you smell so good…can’t help it”, he mumbled.

You threw one last glance at the message. > Hello Bucky, It’s me Y/N. I’m taking Steve home, he called me before and he’s definitely not in the state to stay any longer, nor to drink more. Here’s my number in case you’d need anything. If you or Sam need a ride home, I can arrange something.< After sending the message and your contact (tho you changed the name from mommy to your name) you put Steve’s phone in your pocket, not trusting him not to drop it.

“Whoah Steve don’t fall asleep on me-we need to get you out of here”, you gasped when you felt his weigh being heavier against your shoulder. He mumbled something before letting you guide him out of the house.

When you finally managed to get Steve in your car he slumped into the passenger seat and leaned his head against the window, burping quietly. “Steve, are you okay?”, you placed your hand gently onto his thigh, trying to make him look up at you.

“Jus’…home…”, he mumbled drunkenly, his head now falling against your shoulder, probably close to falling asleep. It was incredibly uncomfortable to hold the gear stick, but you managed somehow, even though you drove a bit slower than usually.

You could already see your house from far away when Steve suddenly sat up. “I think im gonna-“ before finishing his sentence he leaned over his legs and puked right onto your car mat. “Steve!”, you gasped, stopping your car at the side of the road and gently placing your hand on Steve’s neck. “Stevie-Are you okay?”

No answer came, instead you could hear him hiccup and sob a quiet apology. “It’s fine Steve, I’ll just…tell Clint to take the car to the cleaners' ', you tried to hear what he was saying, but all that came was random babbling that you couldn’t hear. You slowly drove further in the direction to your place, this time with your window open-which Steve noticed.

“M sorry, I’m so sorry Mommy, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t wanna get so drunk I’m sorry”, he hiccuped, looking up at you with his teary eyes.

"I'm no longer pretty. I threw up. You won't let me be your sugar baby anymore because I smell like crap and I just threw up in your car", Steve started to sob, making you swallow. What were you supposed to do right now? Stop the car and comfort him or take him home? You decided on the second option. “Sweetheart, don’t worry about that, you’ll always be my pretty baby. You’re just a bit smelly now-“, even though you wanted to joke it seemed to be the wrong thing to do, since Steve started to sob again.

“I’m smelly??” Steve's hurt voice made your heart throb. “No baby-it’s just-because you puked? It’s not-don’t worry-the cat will be cleaned tomorrow, don’t worry. And we can go take a shower when we’re home-and see, we’re already here”, you said, driving into the garage and immediately stepping out to help Steve out of the car.

It was painful to watch him sob and cry, but at the same time slightly amusing knowing it was just because of the alcohol he had consumed. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?”, Steve nodded at your words, still sniffing quietly while letting you guide him to your shared bedroom . „Sweetheart, now let’s get you in the shower but be careful, don’t slip. I’ll go make you something to eat-or better, I’ll order something. You need something greasy…at least that helped me whenever I drank. Maybe it’ll do something good for you too”, with that you left Steve in the bathroom, walking to the kitchen and ordering some burgers and fries.

You could eat something yourself.

After ordering you went back to the bathroom, glimpsing inside to check on Steve-who was still standing in the middle of the bathroom, his eyes closed and swaying on his feet.

Sighing you stepped into the bathroom, gently placing your hand against Steve’s arm. “Babyboy, let’s get you cleaned up”, while you unbuttoned his shirt he leaned his head against your shoulder. “Okay baby, don’t sleep now, okay? We need to get you clean, get some food and water in you…”, you slid his shirt from his shoulders, when your gaze fell onto the side of his neck that you haven’t seen before.

Anger rose up in your chest, but you kept your calm.

“Stevie-is that-Is that a hickey?”, you asked him quietly, a loud sob escaping Steve’s sob as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. “I didn’t want it-I was just dancing and she came all over me-I wanted to push her away-“

It was hard to understand what he was trying to say from the sobbs that interrupted his words, but from what he was saying you assumed a girl didn’t accept his no, which made you furious.

Not at him of course.

At that bitch.

“Did she do anything else? Did she touch you, sweetheart?” You voice was quiet and soothing for him, he felt much calmer now that he was here with you. “N-no, Bucky noticed it and grabbed her. I went to the bathroom then…I think that’s when I called you.” He sniffed quietly, holding onto you for dear life.

Hearing that Bucky was there to help Steve out of such a bad situation-especially since Steve had been drinking a lot, made you want to send him flowers. No, fuck flowers, you’d pay their rent for the rest of the year. A car would probably be too much to give.

Who was it sweetheart? Tell mommy who hurt you”, you whispered in his hair, gently lifting his face to look at you. You wiped away some stray tears from his cheeks, giving him a gentle kiss on the nose.

“She’s in one of my art history classes. I think her name is Sharon Carter”, he said, burying his face once again against your shoulder.

You gave him another kiss against his forehead, „don’t worry about her, she won’t bother you again“, you whispered against his temple, slowly and carefully helping him out of his clothes, your own outfit fell to thre floor too and you stepped with Steve under the warm water stream, washing off the sweat and filth from the party, whispering soothing words during all this time.

You scrubbed his skin with the same peeling you used on yourself, massaging his tense shoulders. It broke your heart to see him in such a bad state. He should be laughing and happy after a party, not sulking and apologising every few minutes for something he had no affect on,

Just when you stepped out of the shower you heared your phone ring. The delivery arrived.

“Go to bed sweetheart, we’ll eat in bed tonight, ‘kay?”, you kissed his temple, leading him to your bed. When he laid down you quickly threw a hoodie of his on and walked to the door to pick up the food. To your pleased surprise you even got a soda to the delivery, apparently for having an order above some prize that counted in the soda. Good marketing.

Chuckling you payed, leaving a generous tip before closing the door after the delivery guy left.

“I hope you’re still awake?”, you entered the bedroom, seeing Steve typing something on his phone. When you entered the room the corners of his lips twitched upwards. “m awake. Don’t wanna sleep without you”, he mumbled, pulling the blanket for you back so you could lay down with him.

Yet he seemed not happy when you sat down in the hoodie, his hands immediately pushing the material up, before you could even place the food in your lap, “wait sweetie, first I have to put down the food-“ “not in your lap, that’s where my head has to be-“ “oh, it has to be there, huh?”, you chuckled at his words, putting the containers down next to you instead of in your lap.

He laid down so he could look up at you, still pouting at your hoodie, instead of saying anything he lifted the material and cuddled his face against your stomach making you laugh in amusement. “Fine, I’ll take it off”, you did just that, receiving a big smile from him.

If that’s all it took to make him smile you could probably walk around naked all the time. It was good to see him slowly cheer up again.

“Now you have to eat in this position, how do you plan on doing it?”, once again you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when Steve only turned his head and opened his mouth, like a little bird that waited to be fed. “Stevie-okay, fine. I’ll feed you”, you chuckled under your breath, feeding him some fries.

Seeing his dilated pupils, the dreamy smile as he looked up at you made you grin. It was very sweet.

In moments like this you remembered once again that love existed. And that you were in love with this blonde dork, that was way too young for you. And yet you fell head over heels for him, probably way sooner than you even realised it before.

While you fed Steve some fries you ate your burger and from time to time some fries too. “I’m sorry for today…didn’t mean to drink so much and call you…and what happened at the party-“ “Stevie, Sweetheart it wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry, okay? You did the right thing calling me. I’ll always pick you when you need something-and I’ll always come to get you, babyboy”, you said truthfully.

He sighed, wrapping his arms around your mid section and kissing your waist. “What did I do to deserve you?”, he sighed sounding sad once again. “Sweetheart, you’re the best man I’ve ever met. You may be younger and we may have different lifes…and it’s just all so unreal how different our living situations are but I’m glad I met you and I couldn’t be happier.”

Just saying these things made your heart face, your own chest feeling tight. It didn’t happen often that you two talked much about feelings.

When you looked down at him once again his eyes were filled with tears, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

It made your chest tighten, like the feeling of nervousness before the first date with your very first crush. It was…you couldn’t explain it. You hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. It’s like Steve made you feel all the things that you haven't felt since you were a teenager. Or a virgin. Or both, more like it.

Steve made you nervous. No man had ever made you nervous.

And yet here you were. Your palms sweaty, heartbeat racing, breath hitching.

You kissed his forehead before placing the food container on the nightstand. Cleaning up would have to wait for tomorrow, “lay down comfortably sweetheart.” After turning off the light and waiting for Steve to change his position you laid down too.

Steve immediately wrapped his arms around you, his head against your breasts. “I’m sorry for today, I don’t wanna be bad sugar baby. I wanna be good for you”, he mumbled against your chest, making you sigh into his slightly damp hair. It seemed like he couldn’t accept the fact that you weren’t mad at him-and that he didn’t need to apologise for anything that had happened tonight.

“Babyboy, I’m happy you called-“ “Please don’t leave me, Kay? I wanna be here forever. Promise me?” You had to held back a chuckle at Steve’s rambling. “I promise Stevie.” “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Steve. I’m sure I’m promising it.”

“But…I don’t believe it.”

You looked down at him, furrowing your eyebrows at him. The dim light from the moon made it possible to see some of his silhouette and only a bit from his expression. Just when you wanted to say something he opened his mouth again. “I want it in writing. That you promise me to keep and love me forever…and if not then I want a one-month-notice before evicting me.”

His tone seemed completely serious, but you weren’t sure if he really meant it. A one month notice? Before breaking up? Was he really talking about- ? On the other hand he was also drunk. It might be the drunk-talking, so I’d probably be better to just give in. “Fine Stevie-baby, I’ll let you know, even though I’m definitely not planning on leaving you.”

Steve nodded slowly. “I wanna have it written…like the contract…I want you to add a line about not leaving me without a one-month-notice”, with that he loosened his grip around your waist and gently pushed you to the edge of the bed. “Wait-you mean-like now? Stevie it’s in the middle of the night-“ “but I don’t believe you…you won’t do it tomorrow…you’ll just forget about it…”

And that’s how you found yourself with a notebook in your lap and a pen in your hand, writing down completely ridiculous ‘rules’. “Okay, for how long do you wanna stay with me?” For a moment Steve was quiet before leaning his head against your body. “For….foreeever”, he whined, looking up at you, smiling tiredly. “Your lawyer has to sign it. I’ll sign it too…give me the pen”, he mumbled drunkingly and grabbed the pen, writing down his name messy.

A smile crept on his lips while he put down the pen again, turning onto his other side. “Cuddle me”, you only chuckled at his demanding tone before putting away the block and wrapping your arms around your little spoon.

“I love you Stevie”, you whispered long after knowing he fell asleep.

________

[ little bonus ]

The next morning you were awoken by an unpleasant groan when steve turned onto his back, furrowing his eyebrows but not opening his eyes yet. “My head…”, he mumbled, making you chuckle, while you slowly turned onto your side to look at Steve. “Yeah I’m not surprised Steve. Considering what you made me write”, you laughed quietly, leaning down to give Steve a kiss on the cheek.

He looked at you in confusion. “What do you mean?”

"You held me and asked whether I could give you a one-month-notice before I decide to evict you.” Right when you were saying this he turned a dark shade of red, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Head shaking he looked back at you.

"I did what???" "Yeahhh, and also you told me no matter how much the n+1 package is, you will never forgive me for dumping you…so….it was very interesting.” Steve only hid his face into the crook of your neck and you sighed.

“I’ll make you breakfast in bed”, he said before sitting up.

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