My Hero Animals Fair 🐾

Blank Out (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names–amends he needs to make. When he gets to yours, he finds the amends process a bit more…difficult than it should be.

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. This is the Y/N version of my OC fic. Exactly the same but for people who prefer Y/N. Lemme know if you want to join the tag list!

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 

Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 

"Hello?" 

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 

"I'm looking for Y/N Y/L/N."

"You found her." 

He blanched. "You're Y/N Y/L/N?" 

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, Y/N’s come in all shapes, sizes, and colors." 

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 

No. 

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "You're the Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking her head. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Y/N's voice called from elsewhere. 

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Y/N reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute." 

What an idiotic thing to say. 

"Wish I could take credit," Y/N said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Y/N in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 

This was the arm of a protector. 

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Y/N started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Y/N alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 

Y/N turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 

"She'll be here around three." 

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 

"Rocio," Y/N prodded, gently. 

"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Y/N said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 

He shrugged. 

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Y/N sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Lilly will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then." 

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.

in conclusion (i love you)

pairing: tsukishima kei x reader genre: college + fwb to lovers au | fluff, suggestive wc: 3,742 description: In which Tsukishima discovers that love can bloom in inconspicuous ways, even when you and him are supposed to be conducting a (not so) simple experiment. author’s note: cross-posted onto my ao3. still not sure if i’ll be posting here frequently, but i thought i’d see how i like it first.

Tsukishima doesn’t understand romantic relationships. 

He thinks they’re illogical, impossible, and most of all, irrelevant. They seem like too much hassle when it comes to the ordeal of courting. From the hours spent preparing complicated banners for asking significant others out to the extensive search for gifts that are supposed to appease pointless “monthiversaries,” Tsukishima finds it all to be a waste of time. 

Just acts for appearances. Sure, they’re cute, heartwarming even, but what does all of that show for anyway? What happened to qualitative experiences?  

He ascertains that he may never truly understand what it means to love another person by modern day standards; for those standards are all full of overhyped bullshit trying to make a trending post on Twitter and Instagram. If avoiding those things means saving himself from love, then so be it. (Irrationality and heartache be damned!)

Tsukishima decides in his first year of university that he won’t do any of those things. 

How? His friends ask, guffaws in tow.

He simply tells them that he won’t fall in love. 

/

Not many people share in this same ideal, Tsukishima finds. 

He can’t say he’s very surprised or disappointed to have his philosophy rejected, especially by those same friends who have questioned his goal, Yamaguchi and Hinata. They’re fools who deem love as something akin to fate’s gift. 

Love is a choice, Tsukishima tells them, and this is his decision. 

They think he’s being a little silly for not wanting to fall in love. They say he’ll get bit in the ass when he least expects it and he’ll go back on his word, but he hardly thinks that’s true. 

If he doesn’t want to fall in love, then he won’t, and that’s perfectly okay. At the very least, you agree with him. 

You have always understood him on wavelengths that others simply could not. You have always stood by his side when it came to debates on this matter, and even more so when he really thinks about it. 

Tsukishima has been able to lean on you even in high school. Him being so introverted has made things difficult, and what he needed then was patience, something many people lacked, but unlike those people, you took the time to understand him and his struggles. 

It’s made him grateful to you. Even now. Scratch that, especially now. 

These days he isn’t just shooting you texts about how he could’ve let someone down easier. Sometimes it’s checking out hot pot places at 8PM on a Tuesday; other times, it’s going to the library until 5 AM because statistics midterms suck at an unbearable level, but you take the 8AM class with him anyway, just because it’s him, and General Education requirements may suck but they’re mandatory. 

It’s also sharing jokes that no one else gets, and teaming up against the rest of the group when they heckle you two about being the only ones who sees love as the bane of both your existences. 

Tsukishima has heard plenty of love advice and received Cosmopolitan articles on how to woo a friend from those same punks who think that love is given by chance. He has seen the knowing stares exchanged at kickbacks. Hell, he’s heard all the whispers, too. But it means nothing. 

This is friendship. No matter what anyone else tries to insinuate, you both know it means nothing for either of you. 

What you are together is simply platonic. 

Friends, that’s all. 

/

Somewhere along the way benefits become a factor for you two. 

These are the sort of benefits that forgo late night convenience store runs for ramen and other delicious, overly processed foods that Yamagchi and Sugawara blanch at the two of you over. Instead it’s the kind that means heated kisses in one another’s bedroom and wandering hands in places very few people have become privy to in both your two-decades long reign on this planet. 

And, it all starts over a simple experiment. 

At least that’s what you and Tsukishima like to call it. 

/

“Isn’t it stupid that Ennoshita would say that?” Tsukishima asks, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “We can be friends. How can he say it’s impossible for us to be just friends? I mean there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to one another, right? You’re good looking. I’m good looking. We’re acknowledging each other’s attractiveness.” 

He pats the open space beside him on his bed, feeling it dip a little soon afterwards. You’re visiting him after he blew off the post-kickback get together. He shouldn’t be surprised that you came by to check on him.

You smile at him as one of your fingers pokes his cheek. “You sound awfully bothered over something that shouldn’t matter.” 

He frowns at your nonchalant tone, even if you are messing with him. 

Tsukishima has never been that particularly fond of other people telling him that his friendship with you is only the stepping stone to something more, that it would only be a matter of time before you two were calling one another cutesy pet names and holding hands for other reasons than as a precaution from getting lost in crowds, and that if he didn’t step up to the plate now, then he would lose you to someone else. 

But how could he? If anything, you’ve been more against love than him. Seeing you with someone else is as impossible as seeing Hinata at Aone’s height. Possibly with some help, but still highly unlikely. 

“I mean, aren’t you? So what if we’re attracted to each other? That doesn’t mean we’re going to start dating because of that.” 

You hum in affirmation. 

You know he has a point. It’s silly to expect two friends to date when both your admissions came as a result from a simple game of “truth or dare.” While it comes from a place of truth, it isn’t like either of you admitted to harboring deep-seated feelings for one another or anything. It’s simply an admission of truth. 

He thinks you’re attractive, beautiful even, and it helps that you share the same opinion as him when it comes to love. And, you think he’s attractive, handsome even, and it’s because you both share the same opinion on love that he doesn’t have to worry about frivolous things like falling in love with you. Or you with him. Your dynamics just work like that. 

“You know, there are other alternatives to relationships anyway, right?” you ask him, watching as he turns to face you on the bed. 

“Like what? Hooking up?” He feels a little dumbfounded. The idea of hooking up with you never really occurred to him. Clearly not because he wasn’t attracted to you, but didn’t those end up… badly? 

You nod. 

Seeing the instant confusion wash over his face, you explain, “Yeah, hook-ups aren’t so bad. It’s like a one and done. It doesn’t even have to lead to anything more. It’s like a preliminary thing. Trial or whatever. We give it a go and if it doesn’t work out, then we can just go back to being friends.” 

“And if it does? Work out, I mean,” he gulps. He doesn’t want to think of an option that means losing you or this friendship. But he’s intrigued, he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t, and you know it. 

“Then we have one of two options.” 

He blinks. “Which are?” 

“Well, if it does, then we can continue and enjoy the fun. Or, we really fuck ourselves over and do exactly what our friends have been betting on for years.” You lean in closer, eyes alight with mischief and interest. 

He feels a tug within him to concede, as if his own body knows its answer, while his mind’s doubts seem to lower in volume the longer he’s under your gaze. 

“What do you say? Up for an experiment?”

He still has to ask: “And, what if we can’t go back from this?”  

“I don’t know,” you whisper, eyes softening as you note his hesitancy. “Even that’s something I can’t answer. This is just a risk we both have to be willing to take. Truthfully, I’m in. But, are you? I-it’s okay if you aren’t, though, Kei. This was just a suggestion, of course—”

He doesn’t take a second longer to tell you his decision.

“I’m in.” 

After all, it couldn’t hurt… right?

 /

Tsukishima discovers many things in this time. 

Things that he never really gave a second thought on. Somewhere between how you look bathed in moonlight with the curtains half-open to the just-right way you feel beside him, he realizes how soft your skin is, how low and husky your voice can get when you’re feeling a particular way, and how powerful you are. 

There’s something enticing about you. Not just in the way you look bare, but the way you can make him feel even without the lack of clothing. He realizes that he enjoys the lingering taste of your lips against his, the heat that your fingertips leave behind, and the small voice you use when you call his name. 

It’s normal, he tries to convince himself. This is how it should be. 

It would be ridiculous to hate the way you feel or sound when it comes to him. And while that is true, that becomes a whole different matter when it bleeds into everyday life outside of the bedroom.

He swears there are moments where he can hear you say his name and you aren’t even in the room. His eyes catch sight of something familiar, at least enough to remind him of you, and suddenly you’re popping up front and center in his mind. He can’t help but smile, of course. 

Even just the taste of last night’s kiss rears its head when he’s doing homework, suddenly taking him right back to that night you two shared talking about the latest fantastical escapade in his reading arsenal. 

He believes the simplicity of these exchanges is the best part of this entire experiment. 

Being able to switch between friendship and, well, sex. And he isn’t sure if the consistent exposure to your presence has brought him to think of you constantly or if it’s some other seed blooming in the vestiges of his chest. He can’t say. Partially because he’s scared to. Because admitting to the second possibility means changing something good, something normal. And change, in this regard, often means a relationship. One that he isn’t sure if such feelings will truck through or crash and burn the moment he mentions it. 

Instead when you call out his name, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a fingertip tapping his cheek, he flashes one of his heartwarming smiles your way and brushes aside the concern. 

“It’s nothing,” he tells you. “I’m fine. Everything is perfect.” 

And while you aren’t convinced, you simply nod and take note to ask another day. 

/

The thing that bothers Tsukishima most is being fickle. 

He doesn’t like being fickle. He knows it is transcribed in the stars that he is a fickle being. And it doesn’t help that everyone is constantly telling him that he is indecisive. He knows already. He knows it well. He hates it, but only when it comes to you. 

He is never indecisive with you. Well, only because you’re the assurance he needs when it comes to decision-making. Maybe it’s your influence. You’re bullheaded and more self-assured than Patrick Verona from “Ten Things I Hate About You.” (Mind you, you’re the one who forced him to watch it. And, fortunately, he wound up loving it.) 

He constantly thinks about how opposed those two main leads are about love, simply because it is exactly against what everyone else expects from high school teenagers. They don’t conform to the status quo. They make their own status quo. Perhaps that is where Tsukishima garnered such a strong stance against love from. Partially from the movie and mostly from you. 

While everyone is banking on your relationship to become more than just friends, he truly can’t help but consider the possibility of a ‘more’ with you anymore. He realizes this when he sees you underneath the incandescent fairy lights hanging around your room. 

Your tranquil visage, how effortless you look sporting one of his T-shirts with a giant crescent moon on the back, and the way your limbs so effortlessly remain entangled. This is comfortable. This is… right. 

He doesn’t stop himself from brushing aside the stray locks covering your face. Normally, he might like to turn over and occupy another part of the bed, but he prefers to remain where he is with you in his arms, just so he can listen for your soft and steady breathing like his own personal lullaby. If he was brave enough, he probably would’ve kissed your cheek. 

Truthfully, if he were in a relationship with you, he truly wouldn’t mind. Not even a little bit. 

Realization strikes him then. A simple, yet vital question crosses his mind, one that he hadn’t thought needed to be asked before—could you feel the same way about him? 

Tsukishima doesn’t have any other answer besides I don’t know. 

/

When Tsukishima said he could never be as irrational as any other lovestruck fool, he never imagined what it would be like to see you in the arms of another man. 

Given, this is a man he knows well. Trusts, even. He can’t help but feel a large pang in his chest when Kuroo spins you around on the dancefloor. It’s a drunken habit that everyone either loves or hates depending on their sobriety levels, but even while sober, you seem to bask in this treatment with glee. 

It makes Tsukishima grumble under his breath, “What’s so good about him anyway?” 

He doesn’t ask anyone in particular and expects no one to answer him back, but a nudge and a pointed look from Sugawara tells him that his ruminations have not gone unnoticed. 

Sugawara nods his head in your direction. “You finally realize you’re in love with her?” 

“W-what? I am not in love… with her,” he says. It’s all weak and unconvincing.

The smirk on the silver-haired man’s face says it all, much to Tsukishima’s annoyance. 

“Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re thinking about it.” He doesn’t want to say it aloud. He hardly feels right feeling what he does when you probably don’t even feel the same way anyway.

“What am I thinking that has you so peeved, Tsukishima?” Sugawara raises his eyebrow. “The truth?” 

The tone elicits a wince from Tsukishima, making him frown. Not that he’s unhappy, he’s just frustrated that the proverbial cat is now out of the bag. 

Tsukishima simply shakes his head, wanting nothing more than to escape from the scene. Maybe go home and burrow away into his bed, away from all of this. Afterparty milk tea trip with the rest of the group be damned. Did he really have to go when he was this emotionally compromised? Stewing right here just spells trouble, and not just for him, but for your friendship with him as well. 

“You should just be honest, dude. None of this ‘experiment’ bullshit. You both lost. Own up to the results.” 

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow at Sugawara. The rest of the party seems to cease with more drinks getting passed around, which he receives one quite graciously. “What are you talking about ‘both?’ It’s just me. I fell first.” 

Sugawara snorts. 

Tsukishima shoots him an accusatory glare, but when he receives nothing in response, he chugs down the red Solo cup without thinking of what’s inside. 

The mixture kind of tastes like shit, and it makes him feel even worse, because now his mind won’t stop fixating on you and Kuroo. A match that could be made in heaven. 

The dark-haired man has always been handsome, adorable at times, funny without trying particularly hard, caring, and worst of all, certain. God, was Kuroo a certain bastard. He always seemed to know what he wanted. He did as he pleased and got whatever he set his heart on too. 

It’s cruel, really. The way fate has metaphorically bit him in the ass like Yamaguchi and Hinata predicted. 

Tsukishima can’t stand the thought that maybe you would choose Kuroo’s sauve side tonight. He particularly dislikes that he really did lose his chance thinking that this experiment would last forever. A few months should’ve sufficed. Should’ve. But only an idiot would let something as good as you be a temporary fling. 

“Maybe I’m the idiot,” he mutters, shutting his eyes.

Sugawara doesn’t respond immediately, in fact, he doesn’t respond at all. Instead a voice he swears is yours does. 

“Who’s an idiot?” Fingertips digging into his sides are unlike Yamaguchi or even Sugawara. In fact, these ones are all too familiar, even with two layers of clothing blocking access to his bare flesh. “Kei?” 

When he looks at the perpetrator, he nearly tumbles over to see you in Sugawara’s place. 

You immediately steady him by interlocking one of his arms with yours, and it’s only you. No Kuroo trailing behind you. No Sugawara in sight either. It’s just you and him walking toward an empty section of the house. Milk tea trip really be damned, you seemed to tell him. 

“Are you alright?” He notices you make eye contact with Yamaguchi before you two round the corner into the surprisingly unoccupied hallway. 

Tsukishima’s begrudgingly grateful that Kageyama’s place is a lot spacier than he remembers. It’s enough that he’s been granted some relief—no trip or an audience to bear witness to his major crash and burn.

He sighs. “N—yeah. Er, no.” 

“Yes or no? Which it is.” You flash him a half-smile as he sways inside the empty guest bedroom. 

He looks around after noting just how quiet it is without the thumping bass of music or the chatter of others drowning out just about everything else. It feels bare here somehow. 

He shakes his head. 

“Why?” Your eyebrows screw together. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“I fucked up,” he whispers. Looking from the beige walls covered bare of any sentiments, he meets your softened gaze. “I fucked up the experiment.” 

“How did you do that?” 

“T-the results are inconclusive. I can’t continue, because,” he rubs the back of his head, “well, I caught feelings.”

The surprise is evident on your visage, even from the weak lighting created by the moon and street lamp outside. But he can’t deny seeing the sight of a smile beginning to grace your features either. Amusement, he can discern with absolute certainty. Relief, dare he say? All of the things he never imagined in any of his scenarios about this moment. 

“Leave it to you to be able to use big words when you’re buzzed.” 

“It’s true. We can’t continue this. I mean I’d love to have something with you, but this isn’t a one and done for me. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.”

“Really? You mean that?” Even though you won’t say it directly, he knows there’s a huge burden of thoughts on your mind from the way your bottom lip gets captured by your teeth. 

“Yeah, I mean it. I—I can’t pretend that I don’t love you anymore. I just can’t. I don’t think I ever expected to feel this way for anyone, but spending so much time with you in and out of bed has shown me that whatever shit I said before has gone completely out of the window. I mean I’m not asking you to be with me if that’s not what you want, but if at all, you feel something too, then…” He can’t help but fiddle with his fingers. Why is his heart beating so loudly? Can’t you hear it? 

“You love me?” 

He swears then that you probably can. 

Slowly, he nods. “I don’t know how I came to love you exactly, but it just struck me when you were sleeping. It felt right that you were beside me. Easy and comfortable, even. I debated so hard about what these feelings were when it came to you. I didn’t think I could like someone this much. But I just do. I just love you for you, for being there... for existing.” 

The last part has his cheeks burning, and Tsukishima can’t help but look away to save himself the humiliation of looking like a fresh tomato. You laugh when he does this, and he can’t even help himself from trying to catch a glimpse.  

He loves your soft exhale, it’s one that he relishes in. Somehow you don’t look as perturbed or aghast as he expects. If anything, you look quite content. It makes him wonder if Sugawara was right, if everyone else was right all along. 

He asks, “Well, what do you say?” 

This time you laugh again. A much louder, but he can’t help but break out into a broad grin, because the atmosphere feels lighter than any tension breaking to grip the room. He knows without being told.

“Only you, Kei. Of course, I love you too.” 

His heart swells, and a greedy part of him wants to hear you say it again. “Really?”

You nod and look at him as if there couldn’t possibly be any other answer out there. “There’s no one else in this world that could understand me the way you do. No one could touch me like you, make me laugh like you, and certainly not watch ‘Ten Things I Hate About You’ five million times with me like you.” 

“Five million and one times,” he corrects. 

His fingers shyly brush away the hair threatening to cover your face, and he refuses to be denied that luxury. Not when he can’t seem to get enough of you. He can’t even bear to move his hand away after he’s done it. “And I’d watch it over and over again with you, by the way.” 

“Good.” You smile at him, cupping your hand over his. “I’m glad we finally came to a conclusion on this.” 

“Even if it means getting ‘I-told-you-so’s’ and teased to all hell?” He smiles when you nod. “Good, ‘cuz I don’t think I’d have it any other way.” 

“Yeah, me either,” you say, leaning in to peck his lips. Of course, he returns the gesture (and then some). 

(The room is empty, after all.)

Tiny Clouds (Serge Gnabry oneshot)

You need to ban me from here 😂 I don’t know if it’s the fact that I am on my holidays, or if it’s my mum’s homecooked food, but I have been writing and updating more than ever before. Anyway, you should all thank @disneydaddyevans​ for giving me the idea to write this little piece that is so cheesy, but I couldn’t help myself. Inspired by his fashion sense and the overall cuteness that the man oozes. Read, heart, reblog, and tell me what you think about it. Also, I wasn’t sure if I should use to name for my OC or just “Y/N”, so I stuck with the way I usually write. 

“Max… Max—Maximillian,” Dolores hissed quietly, stopping dead in her tracks, barely fifty meters away from where they were heading. “That,” she pointed her index finger at the outside of the Museum of Urban and Contemporary Art with a horror-stricken face, “it doesn’t look like a regular exhibition opening. Look at all the press. Are you sure they will let me come in wearing this?”

“There is nothing wrong with your outfit, Lola,” her friend replied, using her nickname – a deep chuckle escaping his throat. She couldn’t help but glance down at her attire, narrowing her eyes at the worn-out jeans and a woolly pullover she had knitted for herself, some two years ago. It was already losing its shape and growing lint on several spots.

When Maximilian asked if she would like to join him for an exhibition opening, Lola agreed without thinking twice, not expecting to be thrown into the middle of what seemed to be a huge media fuss. If she was being frank, she could have googled what the exhibition was about or what the artist’s name was, but with her long shifts at work and three papers due for her night courses at the university, Lola completely forgot to do so.

“If you say so,” she mumbled back, glancing once again at her outfit – eyes narrowing at the stubborn stain on her Converse high-tops. For a moment she contemplated licking her thumb and trying to rub the dark spot away, but she decided against it once she realised that it was highly unhygienic and probably a very weird thing to do in front of all the people that mingled around her.

It wasn’t like she hated or didn’t like fashion – on contrary, she thought it was fun, but Lola found comfort in being practical rather than being stylish, and the older she got, the more overwhelmed she felt with the fast pace of fashion and trends in general. There were too many terms, too many weird combinations being pushed in the foreground, so she decided that it would be the best for her if she stood on the sidelines of it all like a spectator rather than participant.

“I am being honest,” Max added as she caught up with him and they slowly made their way towards the entrance – camera flashes that tried to capture very important people hurting Lola’s eyes. “Moreover, I think that jumper is incredibly cute with its tiny clouds. Or are those sheep?” Max asked, grinning down at her as he adjusted the collar on his trench-coat.

“Tiny clouds,” Lola remarked, “better than your Inspector Gadget coat though, if you ask me,” she joked back, making her friend laugh out loud before he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the crowd.

The main exhibition room wasn’t as packed as Lola had expected it to be, and once they were ushered inside by an artist friend of Max, they made their way around it - slow-paced and without any rush or pressure. They stopped ever so often to read the description, comment or even chuckle on some of the art pieces that they didn’t find very interesting. 

Lola had visited the museum only a handful of times before this, but whenever she was here she enjoyed the look and feel of it. From the minimalistic approach to the main rooms and furniture, to the small and narrow hallways that led to different rooms with unique art exhibitions and graffiti on the wall. 

“Maximilian!” a deep, mature voice called out from across the large room, and Lola reflexively turned her head in the direction of it before seeing a tall and a lanky man in a pressed suit trousers and white button down striding towards them. She could vaguely recognise his face as one of Max’s artist friends, but she couldn’t remember his name. “Maximilian,” he repeated as he stepped closer, blocking Lola’s view of the art installation in front of them, forcing her to look away from it, “there is someone I want you to meet,” he breathed out as both, Max and Lola curiously peered at him. “He doesn’t have a lot of time, but he plays for your favourite team, so I thought you’d be happy to meet him.”

**

“Maximilian, this is Serge. Serge, this is Maximilian, and…,” the artist friend trailed off, looking down at Lola with an awkward smile, “sorry dear, but I don’t remember your name.”

Lola smiled back nervously, shifting on her feet a little. “Dolores,” she answered, looking first at the man in front of her before glancing at the good-looking athlete only to find him looking back at her curiously, “or Lola for short. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet both of you,” Serge replied politely, sticking both of his hands in the pockets of his wide trousers, and Lola couldn’t help but glance at his well-put outfit that looked very expensive and taken care of. “Are you an artist too?” Serge asked looking in Maximillian’s direction.

“No, no,” Max replied, mimicking Serge’s posture, “just enthusiast. By the way, great season with the team...”

Next to them, Lola was wringing the exhibition brochure she picked up on the entrance in her sweaty palms - bits of the paper sticking to her skin. She wasn’t shy or easily intimidated by other people, but there was something about being in the crowd that made one stick out like a sore thumb with her outfit. It was turning her into a nervous wreck even if she didn’t want that.

Having Serge Gnabry in front of her didn’t help either.

“And what about you, Lola?”

Lola felt her heartbeat quicken at the sound of Serge’s voice saying her name, and when she looked up at him, slightly confused, he had a gentle smile on his face, patiently waiting for her answer. His brown eyes were focused on her face and her eyes, and she suddenly felt at loss of words.

“Lola is not an artist either, but an avid knitter instead,” Max interjected with a grin, and Lola looked away from Serge’s eyes and up at her friend – her eyes narrowing a little. “She’s once knitted an entire winter scarf on her way to Hamburg,” he added as Lola felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she managed to push it away casually.

“It was a nice scarf, though,” Lola sheepishly smiled, feeling the insides of her stomach flip excitedly when Serge chuckled before the silence fell upon the three of them. To keep her thoughts straight, she looked down at her smudged Converse, knowing that Serge probably waited for her to elaborate or keep the conversation going. The only problem was that her mind was blank, her palms sweaty, and all the words she wanted to say seemed to be stuck inside her throat. “I real—really enjoy knitti—,”

“—Serge!” a middle-aged woman wearing a shapeless dress and thick, white-rimmed glasses approached them in a hurry, interrupting Lola in the middle of her sentence. “We have Thibaut from Revver magazine outside. It would be lovely if you could just answer few questions for him.” The woman sent an apologetic smile towards Lola, and Lola only smiled back weakly, not really knowing what else to do.

She looked away to mask her disappointed for ruining her chance of talking to Serge, not noticing the lingering gaze he gave her before he walked away.

**

An hour into the evening, Lola found herself walking along one of the walls covered in graffiti on her own after Max excused himself to go outside for a “much needed smoke”. Rather than just standing alone and waiting for her friend to come back, Lola continued to walk along the painted walls before seeing another room that was adjacent to the main room, and which seemed to be empty.

Smiling at the several people who quietly talked among themselves outside, Lola pushed her way inside, quickly being mesmerized by the colours and style of the art that occupied the tiny space she was in. It was a collection of the tall yet narrow murals – each one describing a different story that captivated Lola’s curiosity, and she found herself forgetting about the time. 

“You don’t like to talk much, do you?”

Lola looked in the direction of the voice before shyly smiling once she realised it was Serge who stood behind her. Quickly, she looked away, feeling her cheeks redden at his words. He moved closer, stepping mere few meters away from her before interlacing his fingers behind his back as he observed the same mural as she did – his lips curled into small smile.

Lola breathed out a short breath before opening her mouth to speak. “It’s actually difficult to shut me up once I get started, but I easily get intimidated around people who…,” she trailed off, unsure in how to phrase her ridiculous insecurities, “nevermind,” she finished, glancing towards Serge for a brief second.

“Are you intimidated by flesh and blood, Lola?” he asked before stopping for a second, “That’s your name, right?”

She nodded, stepping closer to the wall, reaching out to touch it, as if that would help her figure out what kind of materials did they use for it. 

“Flesh and blood in trendy, expensive clothes. I will be honest with you,” Lola shook her head a little, pointing at the large museum room where the actual exhibition was presented, “I felt so out of place over there, so I came here.”

“Well, maybe they are expensive,” Serge commented with an amused smirk, “but how many of us are actually wearing a knitted pullover we made ourselves. That’s the real style, if you ask me.”

Lola felt the warmth evade her face yet again as she moved away from the wall, straightening her back and looking at him. “How do you know I knitted it?”

“Pure guess,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “Did I guess right?”

“Yeah,” Lola admitted, “And these are tiny clouds, by the way, not sheep,” she quickly added making Serge chuckle a little. “It’s the confidence and courage,” she muttered, and Serge muttered a small ‘mhmm’, urging her to continue. “I wish I had the courage to experiment a bit more. For example, I like what you are wearing. It’s very,” Lola stopped for a moment, thinking of the word to use for his immaculate outfit, “…fashionable.”

Serge laughed a little at her words, and she curiously peered up at him, waiting for him to speak. 

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with what you are wearing,” he responded, looking down at her, “but here…” he trailed off as he turned around to face her before untying the neckerchief he was wearing around his neck and holding it out for her. “May I?” he asked, taking a step closer, and Lola felt her heart start beating faster because of his proximity but she nodded slowly. Serge nodded as well before putting the scarf around her neck, tying it in a loose knot. “There you go,” he mumbled.

Lola smiled, looking down at his hands as he adjusted the ends of the scarf, folding them so that they sat nicely against the curve of her neck. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, touching the neckerchief with her fingers – the silky material soft against her skin.

“Now you’re wearing something fashionable,” Serge commented, emphasizing the word ‘fashionable’ with air-quotes.

“Fashionable, I guess,” Lola smirked, “but you should take it back. It feels so wrong to wear it,” she added with a small and nervous laugh.

“Wear it tonight, and you can give it back to me some other time,” Serge replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of his loose trousers, turning around so that he was facing the wall again. “That’s if you want to meet up, of course.”

Lola was quiet for a moment, trying to stop the butterflies in her stomach from going crazy, but she couldn’t stop the smile that made its way on her face.

“I do,” she answered, moving so that she was standing next to him – her eyes trying to focus on the tiny details on the mural. “I do want to meet up.”

They stood next to each other in silence for a few seconds – neither of them looking away from the wall. “Friday maybe? Sunday afternoon works too. We don’t have to dress up.”

“Friday works for me,” Lola answered, “but if we wait on Sunday you might get a pair of knitted mittens as a thank you gift for making me look,” she stopped to raise her hands in air-quotes, “fashionable.”

“Only if they come with tiny clouds,” he stated, looking at her at the same time as she looked up at him.

“If you want,”

Serge nodded – his eyes never leaving hers. “Then it’s Sunday afternoon.”

“It is,” Lola nodded.

“Perfect.”

**

Thank you for reading, and this really needs some editing. I apologise.

Gavin’s Mini House In Detail 🏡

During the Mini House special events, I obtained all the furnishing items and had already unlocked all the furniture in the home so I thought for Gavin’s Birthday Week, I would share all of the little secrets it contains! 

Gavin has four sections of the house including-

Living Room

Loft 

Courtyard

Basement

This post also includes MC’s commentary and quotes from special happenings associated with Gavin. Special furnishes will have the coziness points indicated next to its name.

Please enjoy! 

Living Room

Soft Stool 

The white soft stool next to the tea table.

This stool is a must when Gavin watches soccer games.

The leather surface is very soft, and its height is just right for watching TV on.

Want to know the trend of the soccer lottery recently? How about asking about it? 

It seemed to have won all the recent games, and is both happy and lonely.

If his favourite team loses, Gavin will sit here alone. (#sad) 

White Sofa 

With so many pillows, you don’t have to worry about having no support behind you.

Is the white sofa difficult to clean? 

The bolsters are very comfortable.

Curled up on the sofa with soft ginkgo aroma.

“Gavin, do you remember what you told me?”

“I just want to be with you, just like this...”

“You still remembered!” 

“I won’t forget what I’ve told you.” 

“Then... Do you have anything you want to tell me this time?” 

Gavin kissed MC’s forehead gently.

- This special happening (Starry Sky) refers to the Furniture City Date!

White Table 

“Gavin’s Pad is placed here too.”

(It has a photo of MC and she says she will change it into the both of them next time.)

“I can add a snack box, but Gavin doesn’t really eat snacks.”

Hallway Cabinet

“Gavin waters the plants regularly.”

“These are often loose change on the cabinet which we can take before going out.”

“The silver ornament is a souvenir I bought when we went to Disneyland.”

The “Wavy Thing”

“I noticed a little “go for it” written on the most recently scrawled page of the notebook.” 

“I found a magazine that puts people to sleep in a second, which was necessary for insomniacs.”

Zoombot 

The black Zoombot.

Today I’m again busy all over the place saving Zoombot.

It’s a bit stupid and often gets stuck after hitting the furniture.

Makes a buzzing sound when working.

You threaten it: If you hang again, I’ll replace you!  

Music Stand

The music stand bought by Gavin.

On it are sheets of music scores printed by Gavin.

It will sometimes think that the small black table next to it is a bit short.

Sometimes Gavin uses in in the hanging chair to record melodies.

Gavin will print the music scores and put them on it to practice.

Flowers on the Wall 

Each flower is carefully selected by Gavin.

The front wall stores a variety of flowers.

The flowers on the entire flower wall are all preserved fresh flowers. 

Black Table and Seat 

Looking at it closely, it is the song that Gavin played last time. (Music score sheet on table.) 

It is also very comfortable with the little black seat cushion next to it.

The soft black cushion stuffed with cotton.

My exclusive seat for Gavin’s recital.

I bought it with Gavin when we were shopping at the furniture market.

Hanging Chair/Rose Hanging Chair (Coziness 88)

A great napping spot.

Here in the Leisure Time special happening, MC and Gavin talk about the swing they had in high school. MC is surprised that Gavin knew about the view of the sunset when being on it. He says he “passed by” sometimes. MC notes how the ginkgo leaves danced in the wind. He says, “they were gifts from another person”.

Heart-Shaped Chair (Coziness 28)

A cute small stool and a convenient storage box.

Gavin’s expression was a bit subtle while he sat on it first.

Alternating blue and pink hearts, as it’s a Valentine’s Day limited edition.

Surfboard Cabinet (Coziness 42)

It’s a new surfboard. Bring it next time we travel.

There are also other surfboards. Guess where they are? 

It says fly on the surfboard, like I can leap through waves with it.

(THEIR CUTE SHOES ARE NEXT TO IT AHHH)

Blue Lamp

A lamp that always blows bubbles from the bottom to top.

It’s beautiful and dreamlike when switched on at night.

Black Table on the Left 

“This looks like the score that Gavin played on the beach last time. I suddenly feel a bit nostalgic.”  - This refers to the Slightly Drunken Date!

“I found a picture of an asleep Gavin. He was sleeping soundly.”

Claw Machine and Carpet 

A dream-like claw machine. Gavin will add new dolls in it.

The inserted game coins can be taken out from the back of the machine and then reused.

A small black carpet in front of the claw machine.

I bought it together with the large carpet.

Red Bunny, White Bunny, Pink Bunny, Red Bunny, Grey Bunny.

Motorcycles 

The blue motorcycle sometimes want to compete with the opposite motorcycle.

The colour of the motorcycle displayed is sky blue. 

Maybe its name will be “Azure”? (because Gavin uses colours to individually name items.) 

Spring Landscape Display 

The landscape has been embedded into the window, like beautiful paintings.

Maybe there is a new world inside.

I can't help stopping to enjoy the view each time I pass.

Is designed for a wider view, improving your mood even when you're tired.

Winter Landscape Display (Coziness 61)

A corresponding landscape should be changed into winter.

Such heavy snow! Frozen river! Unfortunately, they are all fake. 

You can enjoy the red maple leaves and snow even at home, isn’t it wonderful?

Loft 

Painting

This is a word map that covers the entire wall.

Looking at it, Gavin and I have already been to so many places.

If you want to travel, you can find the destination on it in advance.

I'm willing to create memories with him in many more places.

Chandelier

The current iron style design is really cool.

Shines warm yellow when turned on, warming our hearts.

Display Cabinet  

It should have been a wine cabinet, but Gavin doesn’t drink, so it became a display cabinet.

The ‘little things’ between me and Gavin are displayed inside.

It looks empty now, but it will slowly be filled up in the future.

Black Tea Table

A black low table in front of the sofa.

I occasionally work here.

The star and moon deco piece is very beautiful, I picked it with Gavin.

You can put fruits and snacks on it while reading.

The wood texture had a matted quality with the black coat of paint.

Art 

Looks cold but is artistic.

Seems useless, but also seems cool.

Greenery

A corner with blooming flowers all seasons, is warm and restful to the eye.

Outside the window is a huge ginkgo tree, and the fallen leaves are like brocade.

I feel like it’s always spring with all these flowers around.

It compliments the scenery outside the window. (They have a ginkgo tree right outside their home!) 

Cabinet 

Photo framed have karmas from the Starry Date and the Romantic Date!

Decorative Cabinet/Snowman Closet (Coziness 49)

The two little snowmen stared at each other throughout the winter. (Cute little reference to the CN Recovery ASMR.)

It looks like a window at first glance, but it’s actually a cabinet if you look carefully.

And you could open it. Didn’t see that coming right? 

Starry Sky Wall (Coziness 52)

Today’s wish… I hope that Gavin…

I will accompany you to see the meteor rain which falls on this Earth.

Every moment a wish is realised, there will be a meteor streaking across the sky.

Dandelion Lamp (Coziness 43)

The lamp looks exactly like the grapefruit during Mid-Autumn Festival.

Like a burning sparkler, shining brightly.

Six light sources, not too dazzling nor too dark.

Festive Decoration Table (Coziness 57)

Although there are two cups of drinks, we can still drink from the same cup.

The sofa in the corner always makes people feel safe. 

Although we are only two people, I still chose two long couches.

The letter under the ginkgo biloba leaf, writes a love poem.

All the shopping bags represent his most flawless love.

The wide view allows you to see the scenery in the yard.

The soft white mat was added afterwards.

But it’s always hot under the sunlight, so the curtain is often pulled down.

Basement

Security Camera 

You are in a monitored area, please mind your actions.

Bulletproof Glass 

It’s not a normal screen, it’s bulletproof.

It's not often that one gets to see such a cool and HARD-CORE transparent screen.

Anyways, curious what’s in this wall.

Sci-fi glass wall in the movies.

The engraved badge is Gavin’s silent pride.

1-2-3... still shorter than it!

Gingko Tree

Seasons slip by soundlessly.

No matter how small their wishes are, they will become seeds and eventually bloom in gold.

All life’s little joys turned into gold.

It guards the serene life here quietly over in the corner.

(Gavin makes ginkgo bookmarks with them for MC. CRIES.)

Corner Resting Area 

These action figures are actually pretty fun!

The puzzle is all grown up. It should be able to piece itself back together. (LOL)

(Puzzle) Maybe finish it while Gavin’s gone? 

(Table) It sometimes thinks the table is a bit short.

(Chair) It looks hard but it’s actually comfortable to sit on.

Very spacious, but looks a bit empty.

Some decorations should be displayed here.

Sitting on a blanket is also very comfortable. You can also lean on the small pillow. 

(Carpet) This is a carpet. You can’t tell, right? 

The advanced smart carpet that is warm in winter and cool in summer is awesome.

(The book on the table is called ‘Kritik Der Urteilskraft’- The Critique of Judgement by famous German philosopher Immanuel Kant. It follows after the Critique of Pure Reason and the Critique of Practical Reason- the First and Second Critiques, respectively. The Critique of Judgment constitutes a discussion of the place of Judgment itself, which must overlap both the “understanding” and “reason”.)

“You need to take better care of your health.”

“Who was the one working overnight over the proposal the other day?”

“Alright, we’re birds of a feather, so... so both of us should look after ourselves for each other!” 

“Rest assured, I will. After all, it’s different now. I have you by my side.”  -Harmonous Compa Special Happening

Gavin’s Workspace

Accompany Gavin though every sleepless night.

This seems… No, I’m seeing things.

All folders are neatly organised and arranged.

A spacious table, with files and reports spread all over when busy.

I no need to worry about waking up from naps due to cold late at night.

I was reminded of some criminal investigation shows I have watched. Come on, Officer Gavin!

If this complicated case is made into a movie, it will be an exhilarating one. 

(Computer) A customised large-screen UHD model customised for work purpose.

(Computer) Work exclusive computer, only connected to intranet.

(Computer) The three auxiliary monitors can help keep the data safe.

(Chair) If you want to protect your waist, you should first have a comfortable cushion.

(Chair) if you work long hours, be sure to work in a comfortable chair.

(Board Area) What does it say? Ermm… Cats have nine lives? 

“Found a girl crookedly drawn next to a work record when he reached a bottleneck.” 

Airplane

This airplane model was assembled by Gavin himself.

The computer says-  Agent B-7

Team Operator S.T.R.I.K.E

Location Tracker 

S.P.Y Camera 

U4V Commando

Gunship Operation 

Motorcycle Repair Area 

Every vehicle is so cool in its own way! 

Hello, you are... Little… Erm… Let me think… 

With the strength to lift mountains and the spirit to take on the world! Ha! 

The robot arm is actually a simple robot.

For your safety, please don’t linger below it

(Motorcycle) I would like to greet my seniors.

Electronic Control Pad

Responsible for controlling the rising, descending and switches of the entire area.

On Spring Festival, it will say: Happy New Year, Sir!”

Sooner or later, fully automated smart management will be achieved.

Radio Office 

It’s an important communication device, and the only disadvantage is that it’s a bit heavy.

It’s actually a satellite phone, and it can receive signals everywhere.

Looks like the palm phone in the 90s. Oh no, I’ve exposed myself.

It looks like an electrocardiogram.

Don’t know how to use this weird device.

A thick laptop that it’s properly shut when not in use.

A cool eagle logo is printed on it.

Gavin used it only for special tasks and it will not be brought out.

LMAO MC DOESN’T HAVE ACCESS-

Courtyard 

Corner Seating Area 

A courtyard in sunny or snowy days are interested in their own ways.

Sometimes the unfrequented bolsters will envy the knee pillow.

It's’ wonderful when two people are sitting here reading, even if they don’t talk.

Standing barefoot on the soft lawn is very comfortable.

There's nothing nicer than basking ourselves when its sunny.

Binoculars

The white binoculars which you can see things several miles away.

You can use it to watch the stars when it’s not too cloudy.

But star-watching is clearer mid-air.

Seems to be the same binoculars as those in the scenic area.

The binoculars in the scenic area require coins, but this one doesn't.

Outdoor Lounge Chairs 

The new furniture I asked Gavin to buy.

Can enjoy the sunlight spa comfortably when relaxing. 

Closing my eyes, I feel like I’m lying on a beach.

The soft breeze and warm sunshine. This is life. 

Lying on it and looking at the blue sky and white clouds, your mind goes blank easily.

The blue and white clouds-

Leisure Table/Romantic Table (Coziness 52)

Lace tablecloth… I can’t imagine that it was chosen by Gavin.

The elaborately prepared dinner and roses, just for today.

A large sunshade on the balcony. (Black large umbrella.)

Bird Nest (Coziness 37) 

Once it was a pair of binoculars, now it’s a bird’s nest.

I bought it just because it was cute, but I’ll consider having pets in the future.

Birds flying by can also have a free meal here.

red, blue, my yellow. [jwy!]

˚➶. EXPO ↓

#𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 bestfriend!woo x fem!reader.

#𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 in which woo is your teasing florist of a friend who can’t seem to pick between red and blue; so you add a third option for him, yellow!

#𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 bf2l, fluff, crack, blasphemy(?), animal death, cursing, 6th grader jokes, two dorks being oblivious, kissing <3

#𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 2.0k+

“Okay, so Sky Blue or Cherry Red?”

“What the fuck? Those are so contrasting.”

Wooyoung whined at your indecisive and absentminded response, leaning his head against your turquoise, sweater-clad shoulder while watching reruns of Scooby-Doo on your old TV. You sipped on the sugarless vanilla latte he purchased for you, relishing in the brief but welcomed warmth the drink radiated in waves. Wooyoung obsessively shoved two paint-cards into your face, gaggling over how bright and saturated they were.

He visited earlier with the guise of simply hanging out with you, claiming that while occupied with his 9-5 job downtown as an optimistic florist, he missed your company. Initially he picked the job because it sounded delicate and comprehensively easy. Objectively, the work was relatively standard; water the daffodils and make sure his small, secret rose garden he called ‘wonderland’ was receiving enough sunlight; but his back ached with hauling boxes filled with seeds and bags packed of faux soil.

“Why are you seriously no help?” He chirped. You grumbled in response, focusing on the graphics of the late television show rather than Wooyoung’s juvenile complaints. Your hair was an unkempt rat’s nest and your spongebob pyjama pants were ruffled considerably, but you allowed Wooyoung into your house regardless of your external appearance. You knew he wouldn’t judge you anyways, too occupied with picking a paint colour for his new apartment.

“How about Sunflower Yellow?” You calmly, dismissively suggested, taking another long swig from the now-empty pale brown paper cup before tossing it behind your couch. You’d clean it up later anyways, but for now you had a whiny best friend to deal with. “Dunno if you’re hard of hearing or colourblind but yellow wasn’t an option.” Wooyoung quipped, his eyes flashing with a teasingly stumped mirth.

“You and I both damn-well know who has the better hearing, and she’s lookin’ right at ya.” Wooyoung giggled at your pouty disposition, finding your blushed cheeks and deep eye-bags adorable. He sat casually against your couch, dressed in his own quirkily mismatched ensemble. A pair of khaki shorts accompanied by a dark green sweatshirt and multicoloured socks, his scuffed three-year-old tennis shoes laying by your door. You found it endearing how Wooyoung still tried to come up with his own fashion trends, ending up looking like a stitched together version of brand-name and value-village. But he was being expressive in the form of seasonal apparel, and you were proud of him.

“Byeol?” He teased, gesturing to your mangy, blue-eyed siamese feline as she sat back and observed your get-together, scattering away once the attention was on her. Wooyoung sighed.

“Look, you chubby-cheeked wench, just answer and I’ll leave you to sleep in your little cocoon of grandma blankets.” You huffed at his insinuation, plonking your deft fingers against his cheek softly and gently.

You met Wooyoung in third grade, when sex didn’t determine friendship and the bounds of society were turned away by your blind infant eyes.

You’d been retrieving wild bluebells and dandelions, bunching them in your sweaty grasp as a sort of dedicated bouquet, explaining to the boisterous boy that you needed to leave it as a parting gift to a squirrel you saw that got run over (you called him Tootles). Looking back, it was innately bizarre how indifferent you were to the concept of death, but Wooyoung supposes that it was a sweet thought anyways. From then on, the two of you blundered together—but part of the reason Wooyoung stayed was also because of his obvious attraction to your lopsided pigtails and thrifted summer dresses. He remembers that you always had a food stain somewhere on your clothing.

Now looking at you, still messy and even more vulgar, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t regret any moments. You’ve gone through everything together; Wooyoung was present for your first period when the stomach pain and hunger cramps were immense, and you were there when his family suffered through a rough patch, assuring him that everything would be okay when in reality, the decision of divorce between his parents was settled a week later. Those were some of his most difficult moments, but he can look back at them fondly only because it brought him closer to you.

“Wench? What are you saying? I’m a god.” You offered in the most dramatized tone you could.

“Might wanna get your facts checked,”

“Might wanna get your mom checked,” You snorted, biting your lip while procuring finger guns just for the hell of it. Wooyoung sighed in mock disappointment, his frizzy purple-tinted fringe falling onto his forehead. You grinned and giggled, catching his attention cutely.

Your whiny puppy rolled his eyes before wailing a cacophony of displeased sounds, loudly filtering his discontentment with having a plain apartment. “(Y/N) you don’t understand the seriousness of my situation! Who wants to tell their grandchildren that their first—that’s right, first!—apartment was a boring cream colour?!” Fed up with his childish bumbling, you quickly smacked his forehead, chuckling quietly as he squeaked and softened his stiff posture. It was honestly so lovable how he got so passionate about the smallest, almost insignificant things.

“Listen, we’ll figure something out. I still think Sunflower Yellow should be an option though.” Wooyoung swatted at your covered tummy with an overzealous and enthusiastic expression, clearly excited with the concept of letting you help him. The soft scent of peppermint-chamomile flooded into your nostrils from his clothing, making you mentally note to ask him what detergent he decided to try. “You think wrong, settler! Now choose between these two colours or I’ll be obligated to steal half of your lifespan.” You laughed loudly at the unprecedented silliness of your best friend, shaking your head while sending a fleeting but absolutely enamoured stare in his direction.

“Honestly, at this point why am I letting you help me?” He hummed. You gurgled at his feigned distress, gasping and tackling him against the couch. You straddled his waist, pointing a manicured figure at his face while you fondly cursed at him. “As I recall, Mr. Jung; you arrived to my residence at exactly 12:01 PM with the excuse to hang out, only to badger me with your issues about... paint colours. You came to me.” Wooyoung sat enthralled by your change in attitude, bathing in the flawlessness of your execution regarding exposing him for his wrongdoings.

“Just boom, bam, pow: There’s that dude I’m in love with.” Wooyoung’s eyes widened considerably, a snarky smirk falling across his countenance as his cheeks devilishly flushed, looking similar to that of a ripened strawberry. Immediately you backtracked, wondering what you said that provoked this reaction, and realization struck across your face like a sharp slap.

Oh shit. Shit.

“I-Uh—you didn’t hear that.” You waved shy but frantic hands into his face, as if hypnotizing him into forgetting about your embarrassingly personal confession. But all he did was giggle and take ahold of your wrists, pulling your body forward so you were chest to chest with him.

A soft, addictingly brief kiss was placed against your creased forehead, the perfect lips of your best friend brushing against your heated skin. You swallowed thickly, placing your hands over his sweater-clad chest with confusion written all over your face. What in the hell kind of reaction was this—? Whatever it was, it was warm and delicate and felt right.

Then again, there’s nothing that ever feels wrong when it comes to Jung Wooyoung. Or maybe that’s just you.

“Y’know, you’re not very... secretive.” He settled, making perplexities skip through your mind like stones on water. Had he known? Was this the end of your life-long friendship? Questions ran through your mind endlessly, your heart rapidly beating and mind berating you for admitting your tini-tiny, small-as-a-planet crush. “I had my suspicions but you actually saying it was my sweet confirmation.”

“The fuck? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I-I—Hey! Don’t be angry at me!” He pouted, melting your heart into a pile of mushy and fragmented puddles. “What I was trying to say is, I love you too.” Immediately your face blanched and you dropped your head into the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, appreciating the small dust of red that decorated his ears. You simply couldn’t face him in fear that this was all a simulation; a seemingly harmless gaffe constructed firstly to tease you, and knowing Wooyoung with his wildly oblivious tendencies and boyish lack of empathy, you had no doubt that it was something he would try.

And yet, you couldn’t even force yourself to be angry at him. Because while you speculated that he was joking, somewhere in your heart you knew that he was being honest—simply in denial with the prospect of your long-lasting crush actually returning your feelings. “Hello? Earth to (Y/N)? Airhead? Loafer?” You snapped out of your reverie, staring at Wooyoung’s pinked face as his prying eyes drifted around your facial features, slowly tracing each detail.

“You love me too?” Shock ever-present, you searched in Wooyoung’s loving gaze for some kind of testimony, a confirmation, for some truth to be shed. And when all you could see were the glimmering, almost glowing sparkles in his large pupils, you felt the slightest bit reassured.

“Of course I do, bean!”

“As a friend though, right?” Wooyoung’s face screwed into an intense concentration, expression looking fragile and breakable. But in his wandering mind, he questioned how you could even consider that. He loved you as something more—with your tangled tresses and wrinkled clothes, even down to the fact that you couldn’t handle sugar but grimaced every time you drank your vanilla lattes, simply because they weren’t sweet enough.

It was the little things that he found himself so affectionately obsessed with. He remembers your bleached sundresses in elementary and how you couldn’t tie your shoes without help from a teacher. How you loathed wearing glasses because you thought they made you look nerdy, but complained because you just couldn’t see.

“Jesus Christ, Loser. No, I love you like... like a crush! Yeah, like a crush. Romantically.” He gushed, and if this wasn’t one of the most immature confessional moments in history, it sure was a cheesy one.

“Wait, really? You like-like me?” Good god. Your fingers trembled and lips twitched.

“Yes, how many times do I—” Wooyoung breathed out a shaky sigh as you leaned forward and smoothly took his lips with your own. He tasted minty and sweet, like petals and chocolate. His eyes fluttered closed as your lips meshed together, pushing against each other in a romantic twine of burning passion.

Suddenly, your hands were on either side of his head and one of his deft, spidering hands pressed onto the small of your back. The other hand trailed up to the back of your neck, twirling the loose strands of hair at your nape, his tongue breaching the space between your lips invasively—but then he tried to card his fingers through your hair; and you hissed and pulled away like a disenchanted cat, baring your teeth from the unprecedented pain.

“Shit! Sorry, baby.” Whereas your head flooded with spiking pains from small hairs being plucked, your heart was palpitating at the new but definitely embraced pet-name. “I told you that you should’ve washed your hair! But someone doesn’t like listening!” You tutted at the nagging, harrumphing before placing another complacent kiss against his lips.

“Oh shut up, Mr. I can’t choose between red and blue.” You never thought you’d get the chance to tease Wooyoung after directly smooching him; it was a fantasy and a reoccurring fever dream to feel his plush, pillowed lips against your own. Perhaps a perverse imaginative scenario, but it was a reality now. And reality suddenly didn’t seem so harsh; crowded in the warm arms of a starry-eyed shortie with calloused hands and a knack for gardening.

“You’re right, I can’t. But it’s okay, I prefer yellow anyways.”

Who knows what awaits you in life? Maybe the sky will drain of it’s blue and the roses will deplete of their red—but no matter the changes and disparities that occur over the years, there’s always one thing that you’re forever sure of:

“You’re my yellow, Jung Wooyoung.”

🥽 all rights reserved © kireiwoo. do not : plagiarize, counterfeit, or translate, & thank you for reading <3!

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (A/n- And now, I shall make it complicated)

Masterlist

Warnings- Jealousy

Chapter 2 All In a Long Weekend

Saturday

That Saturday morning, breakfast had been done a tad earlier than usual, and afterwards, Emma had stayed back in the kitchen, packing a picnic while Keanu oversaw the children as they got ready for the day's beach trip. Matt and Poppy had been raving about their trip to Malibu for the past two weeks, asking every night before bed if they'd still be going. Each time, Emma had assured them that unless it rained, they were certainly going.

"You look excited," an older woman came up beside Emma, setting down some sodas into the cooler, just as Emma continued preparing sandwiches for the container that was set to be packed into the woven basket. She and Zelda, despite the fifteen or so years between them had become fast friends, always eager to help each other out when possible. The older woman was also sometimes keen of giving Emma little snippets of advice that she thought my be helpful; never go into Keanu's office when he had the door shut, don't give the kids ice pops inside and possibly the one that had saved her the most trouble, always check the allergy list that Keanu had stuck to the fridge before making the kids something new.

Beaming absently at her comment, Emma carried on with her task, making cheese and turkey sandwiches; a favorite among Keanu and his kids, "I am, it's been a while since I've been to the beach, and even if I'm still working, it's gonna be fun." Closing up the Tupperware, Emma set it in the basket, moving on to prepping snacks, just as Zelda started on some frozen treats for the sizable cooler. In retrospect, it might have seemed like a lot, but when you were having a day trip with kids, it was best to prepare for anything. "Plus, it'll be nice to spend some time together, just the four of us."

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Zelda paused for a minute, "Five dear," she corrected, a little shocked when Emma didn't understand what she meant.

Certainly, Keanu must have told her!

But really, he hadn't.

Just as Zelda was about to explain though, the sound of the front door opening and shutting, followed by a very loud, and an annoyingly exuberant; "Darling!" After that, it wasn't long before the sound of heels clicking against the floor drew nearer, and out of the long hallway emerged a woman, tall, blonde and just as famous as Keanu.

"Sweet-" Upon seeing the pair, the Miranda Riley, former Victoria Secret model and world famous actress, stopped in her tracks, scrunching her perfectly straight nose as if she'd smelt something terrible, "Oh," her made up face fell, "Its you; Zora and…….the new one."

A little annoyed by her obviously snooty behavior, Emma opened her mouth to speak up, "Actually it's-" Though, when Zelda grabbed her arm, squeezing warningly, she shut up immediately, sealing her lips tightly.

Though, it didn't really seem like any of it greatly affected Miranda, especially when Keanu jogged into the room from the other hall, still bare foot while his worn out t-shirt was soaked at the front, probably from herding the twins into a bath. "Mandy," he grinned, and Emma swore it was stiff and forced. Maybe it was just her imagination though, cause with barely any hesitation, Keanu was taking the woman in his arms, holding her in a more than friendly hug before planting a lengthy kiss on her deep, ruby lips, one of his hands reaching up to cup her face.

The world seemed to slow down as the entire scene unfolded before her; the way he held her, looked at her when they pulled away to speak. A soft, pained gasp seeped past her lips and Emma wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when Miranda walked into the house, but she did know that the last thing she’d predicted was that it would hurt so much. Her lungs were set ablaze and a similar sensation prickled at her eyes. Rage, betrayal, jealousy, Emma couldn’t tell which it was, but she did know that she wanted to run out of the room and not have to face Keanu for the rest of the day. Hell, maybe even the rest of the month.

Slowly, as if she were just coming up from being submerged in an ice cold bath, Emma brought herself back to the moment, raising her gaze when Keanu sought to introduce them, “Mandy, you remember I told you about Emma, our new nanny.” That was what she was, the nanny; the woman who took care of his kids, nothing more. Even if quieter moments had suggested otherwise. The tension, the long stares and innocent touches that thrilled her nerves, they meant nothing to Keanu. “And Em, this is my girlfriend, Mandy.” Well that didn’t feel like a bullet to the chest at all.

“It’s nice to meet you,” the smile that she plastered on her face was probably the hardest one she’d ever managed, and when Emma offered her hand, it wasn’t difficult to miss the flash of disgust that crossed Miranda’s pale features. Never meet your heroes, they said. For as long as Emma had known herself, Miranda had been an icon in the fashion world, she was well connected, and had set most of the trends that Emma had her friends had desperately wanted to mimic in their teens. It was her, among other inspiring names in the fashion world that had prompted Emma to go to a design institute and not a conventional college. But right then, she might have been happier going back to a time where she’d never crossed paths with Miranda.

Hesitating before offering Emma a toothy, winning grin, Miranda took her hand, shaking quickly over the counter before letting it go again, “Mmm, yes, it's…….nice to meet you too, Emily.”

“Emma,” she corrected, having to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t say anything more. The last thing she’d want was to lose her job after telling off her boss’s out of touch bitch of a girlfriend.

“Right,” Miranda appraised her look, a bright blue sundress, raising an impressed brow, probably only complimenting her to appease Keanu, “Cute dress.”

Before Emma could speak up, Keanu interjected, “She looks lovely doesn’t she? Made it herself,” he didn’t seem remotely aware of the heaviness in the room, or the way Miranda clenched her jaw when another slew of praises for Emma left his lips, “She’s so talented, Poppy is already roping her into making princess dresses for Halloween,” he chuckled, shaking in his head.

After another minute spent gritting her teeth, Miranda sought to change the topic, clearly having had her fill of Keanu’s pride in his nanny, “Where are the little ones anyway? It's nearly ten, we’re going to be late.”

With that, Emma’s head snapped towards Zelda, who'd opted to finish the cooler and snacks in silence, so she wouldn’t have to endure any of the painstaking conversation, “She’s going?” She whispered when Keanu and Miranda weren’t looking, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Yeah,” she nodded, barely looking as Emma when she followed her to the fridge, while Keanu and Miranda spoke, or rather, canoodled in hushed tones, "I feel like I should have told you he has a girlfriend," Zelda paused, just after reaching for a half filled carton of strawberries.

"Ya think?" Emma hissed, glancing backwards at the couple, feeling her heart pinch at how lovey dovey they were. She could have sworn there was something between herself and Keanu. "How hard was it to say 'Hey Em, you know our boss has this girlfriend, and she's like, a total bitch.' What the hell does he even see in her anyway?"

"She's tall and gorgeous?" Zelda shrugged casually, "Look, I don't get it either, but he loves her, they've been together for almost two years and I think she's convinced him to go public by the end of this year." Her face fell at Emma's troubled expression, reaching out to rub her shoulder sympathetically, "I see the way you look at him, and if there's something between you two, then……and I don't mean this harshly at all, maybe you need to back down. Miranda, she's……she's not someone you want to mess with," sighing deeply, Zelda peered over to see if they were being overheard, "She gets what she wants, and right now, she wants Keanu and you don't want to be in her way."

Gritting her teeth, Emma pulled away harshly, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about," she squared her shoulders, "There's nothing between Keanu and I," maybe she was getting more defensive than she needed to be, but Emma didn't care. "I'm gonna go finish getting the twins ready," she announced loudly, stalking out of the room and down the hall, and hopefully, leaving behind whatever she'd started to feel for her boss.

As it turned out, Matt and Poppy had all but put their clothes on over their swimsuits, and they were so excited about going, that they got into their little summery outfits without fuss. Afterwards, tiny feet clad in colorful sandals, they raced each other downstairs, leaving Emma to collect their bags before she headed down.

She was walking towards the stairs, backpacks in hands, really just minding her own business, having just started to calm down after the whole Keanu/Miranda fiasco, when, just as she neared the door of Keanu's home office, she heard it. He was deep in conversation, and had unknowingly left the door just a sliver open, enough for her to catch on to some juicy bits. "I know mom," he sounded exasperated, and when she dared to peek in, Emma found that his back was to her, as he stood facing the window, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, "But I'm not getting any younger, what do you want me to do? Wait till I'm sixty?" He sighed heavily, shaking his head, "Matt and Poppy need a mother, and Miranda……" he trailed off, listening intently to what his mother had to say. Leaning closer, Emma wished she could be privy to the other end of the call, aching to hear what his mother thought about the succubus that he called a girlfriend. But alas, she'd have to settle for whatever she got.

After a few minutes had passed, Keanu spoke again, turning around, leaving Emma to dash for cover, though still within earshot. For a minute, she held her breath, awaiting the moment where Keanu would poke his head out the door and catch her eavesdropping. But it never came, and instead, he continued, "I think I'm going to do it tomorrow night, we're going to dinner, and the nanny will watch the kids. I have the ring already. I think she might like it."

Ring?

The sirens in Emma's head were going off so loudly that she barely registered his tone, the absence of excitement or joy, things that were usually there when someone was smitten enough to propose. There was too much going on in her head; the irrational fear of never having a chance with Keanu, the more rational fear that Miranda might become her boss too. Tuning out the rest of the conversation, not caring to hear anymore, Emma dragged herself towards the stairs, slinking down towards the kitchen, where she found Zelda entertaining the children.

“Everything okay?” She probed when Emma placed the bags on the counter, next to the cooler and picnic basket, her features still crestfallen.

“Yeah,” she mustered up a smile, inching closer to her friend, her voice dropping an octave, “I think Keanu’s going to propose to Miranda, like tomorrow night.”

“What?” Zelda’s eyes went wide, her jaw hanging slack, and she almost dropped the dishes she had just started putting into the cupboards, “How do you know that, did he tell you?”

“Tell her what?” Speak of the devil. Miranda startled them both, and for a second, Emma was worried that she’d overheard their conversation, though that too was short lived.

“Everyone ready?” Keanu strode into the room, and though Emma wanted to meet his gaze, she restrained herself, not even trying to respond, just going over to gather some of their things, her teary smile faltering when the kids excitedly started following her to the car.

At some point, Miranda had eased Keanu away from where they’d set up their picnic on the beach, urging him into a walk even though the kids had pleaded with him to stay and help them build sandcastles. Emma had taken his place, helping them with their little construction project, highly aware of how upset Poppy still was. “You okay Pop?”

The girl frowned, using her fragile fingers to sweep some hair out of her face, “I wish daddy would have stayed and built it with us,” she mumbled, dumping another bucket of sand to create segment of the castle, though doing it so harshly that the new section just crumbled, “He always leaves when aunt Mandy comes around.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” even if she didn’t like Miranda, if she was going to be Matt and Poppy’s step mother, Emma couldn’t go around bad mouthing her to them, “I’m sure he still spends time with you. And aunt Miranda seems really like you two.”

“Not as much as you,” that was Matt, his expression skewed by his dark mane falling over his face, “She’s always telling us to be quiet. And she’s so boring,” he stressed, lurching forward, only half interested in ranting about Miranda, still very invested in their sandcastle, “She almost made dad stop my swimming lessons.”

“What?” That time, it was a struggle to keep her annoyance at bay. Even if it was just one side, even if Matt couldn’t possibly know the entire truth, it was still enough to rile Emma up. How dare she? Matt was the best on his team! Taking a breath, Emma knew it was time to shift the conversation, and cheer the twins up before she said something that she’d regret, “You know what? Why don’t we give this a break? We can go to the water, have a splash war!”

“Yeah!” They jumped up immediately, barely giving Emma a minute to shimmy out of her sundress, revealing her simple, floral bikini before joining them in the water. It didn’t take long to lift their spirits, and before long, Matt and Poppy were teaming up to out splash Emma. Their gleeful giggles were music to her ears and she adored seeing their wide grins. They’d waited almost a month for that trip, they deserved to enjoy as much as they could, even if Miranda was going to take up most of Keanu’s time.

They probably spent hours past noon in the water, and not once did anyone’s smile falter. Emma gave them ice pops, and insisted that they have some water once or twice, though each time, they accepted without fuss, and she couldn’t tell if was the sugar from their snacks, or just how immersed they were in the games, but even when Keanu and Miranda returned near sunset, they didn’t show signs of tire.

“You guys having all the fun without me?” Keanu let go of Miranda’s hand, standing where the water would wash over his feet, pulling the sand back as it receded.

A pang of anger flared inside of her, making Emma want to remind Keanu that he was the one that left, but she suppressed it. A fight wouldn’t solve anything. She was so caught up in being annoyed with Keanu, that she hadn't noticed how dark his gaze had grown when his eyes fell on her, kneeling in the water, rivulets rolling off her tan skin, the top of her bathing suit pressing her breasts together, a generous amount of her cleavage spilling out voluptuously. “Well why don’t you join in?” She made herself laugh, and while Emma was hardly as much of an actor as the two A listers before her, she’d liked to think she managed pretty well.

“Sounds great,” he didn’t even seem to notice Emma’s irritation, bubbling beneath the surface. In a flash, he was pulling off his t-shirt, tossing it to the sand, getting into water wearing just his swim trunks, and as he drew closer, his cheerful tone faltered, probably realizing that being in the water with her wasn’t going to do him any favors, “Do you guys wanna play chicken fight?” Keanu turned to his kids, only to be met with excited nods, “And maybe Mandy wants to play too?” He turned to her, eyes somewhat hopeful, “And we can let Em have a break,” swallowing thickly.

“Oh, I…..” Miranda seemed perfectly out of her element, smoothing a hand over her stylish, white sundress, and then pushing up the dark tinted sunglasses, which formerly guarded crystal green orbs. It took a minute, but eventually, she conjured up a tight grin, “Chicken fight isn’t really my kind of game,” she laughed nonchalantly, “Besides, the water will ruin my hair. You should let Emily play, childish nonsense seems right up her alley.”

Subduing the urge to roll her eyes and fire a few obscenities towards Miranda, Emma took a breath, gazing between Keanu, who’d gone cold, and Miranda who’s wicked mirth was reflected in her defiant smile, “Like I said this morning, it’s just Emma. And that’s fine, I actually love childish nonsense, its way more fun than sitting on the sand like a……” stuck up bitch, “Boring grown up.”

Amused with her half hearted insult, Matt laughed loudly, while Poppy just giggled, already trying to get up on Emma’s shoulders. Fuming, Miranda turned on her heel, stomping off towards the mat, and it wasn’t long before the rest of them had forgotten the almost-spat, getting on with their game.

Monday

As usual, Emma was up early, preparing breakfast for everyone. It was just past seven am, and since Mondays didn’t promise cartoon reruns, the kids weren’t up yet. Instead, Zelda had come in earlier than usual, saying that she wanted to get a head start on the housework, but really just looking to gossip. They were in the kitchen together, preparing for hash browns, eggs and bacon, working over quiet chatter, “So…” Zelda nudged Emma’s shoulder with her own.

“So?” Emma chuckled, nudging her back, the comfy cotton of her robe brushing against the sleeve of Zelda’s shirt. She knew exactly what her friend was seeking, but truthfully, she didn’t know how Keanu’s proposal had gone. All she knew was that they’d left for dinner around seven, leaving her to make something for Matt and Poppy, and hadn’t returned until the twins had fallen asleep and Emma had stolen away to her room.

“So, is the wicked witch of the west coast going to be out new boss or not?” Zelda teased, continuing with helping Emma shred some potatoes.

“Honestly-” Emma cut herself off when Keanu walked in, sans shirt and with low riding sweat pants. His hair was a mess, and his good morning was punctuated by a tired yawn. "Good morning Keanu," both women greeted in unison, sharing a look.

They both wanted to know so badly that the itch was almost physical, but it wasn't like they could simply ask. With their one question would come a dozen more from Keanu. Though, as faith would have it, the truth they were seeking wasn't far behind a still half asleep Mr. Reeves.

"Darling," an all too familiar voice purred, shuffling into the kitchen, her blonde hair held up in a loose ponytail and her elegant frame wrapped up in fine satin. Unlike Keanu, Miranda didn't even bother with pleasantries, going straight over to where he stood at the integrated refrigerator, holding him in a hug from behind, strategically angling her left hand so the large rock on her finger would be on full display.

"Still wanna know?" Emma whispered near Zelda's ear, their heads almost touching.

Scoffing, Zelda seemed caught between a sarcastic smirk and a frown, "Not any more."

And because the world was such a cruel place and open wounds would be pointless without a little salt, Miranda abruptly turned to them. "Ladies! Have you two seen my ring?" Without warning she thrust her hand towards them, making the engagement ring on her finger hard to avoid, "Gorgeous right? Keke loves to spoil me," her words were perfectly gag worthy and Emma was finding it difficult to keep down the half cup of coffee she'd had. It wasn't like she was opposed to love or affection or anything, she'd really liked to think of herself as well adjusted in that way, but during the one weekend she'd spent around Miranda, her affections for Keanu always seemed so dramatic that it was nothing short of an elaborate farce.

Yet, it wasn't like she had much of a choice when it came to going forward and having to endure it. Jobs in the fashion world were hard to come by and freelancing would hardly be enough to cover living expenses. So, alas, she'd have to put up with Miranda for a quite while to come. "Don't worry Emily," Emma hadn't even realized she'd zoned out until Miranda called her by the wrong name, for probably the dozenth time. At her next words, Miranda's voice dropped below what Keanu could hear, and there was a wicked glimmer in her gaze, "You're pretty enough, I'm sure you can trick a man into buying you a nice ring. Might not be as many carats, but you'll manage."

That little quip was definitely pay back for Saturday. Fuming, Emma longed to just let her have it, but she was growing so versed in holding her tongue that she did again, deciding right then and there that as much as she loved the kids, she was wholly willing to take the next sustaining job as long as Miranda was in the picture.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

MC reacts to The Brothers (+Undateables)

In a crop top ~ Yum

Due to the *NSFW undertones, I will NOT be writing any for Luke, obviously.

Sorry this took me ages haha i ran out of creativity for these. On that note, let’s jump straight in 😉

The Undateables

~

Simeon 😇

Similarly to Beel, will not see your request as anything unsavoury you cheeky thing, you

“What is a ... ‘cropped top’?”

Basically wears them anyway

Is used to showing a little skin, so would think nothing of it

After all, God intended Human Beings to be naked, so this is not weird

The only thing odd about it, is that you specifically requested it

He still wouldnt see it in that way tho lol

The one he’d wear wouldn’t surprise you, because it’s not too dissimilar to what he normally wears around RAD

Black, sleek and skin tight - sleeveless to reveal his perfectly sculpted shoulders and with a high neck - cerulean blue accents to match his eyes

Your jaw fell slack at how attractive it looked on him

His piercing blue eyes crinkled as he smiled, “I guess this one suits me, then?”

Oop - ah well, who cares if he knows your staring?

He’s an angel ffs - of course he looks amazing

“You...” you couldn’t seem to find the words to encompass what the mere sight of him did to you

His face would fall a moment, “is something wrong, MC?”

You’d flush, shaking your head with a nervous laugh, “No... well, God probably wouldn’t forgive me for thinking it but -“

You can’t bring yourself to finish that sentence

Fairly certain he was aware of where your thoughts were headed, his cheeks would tinge rouge

He’d play Innocent TM as not to blur the line or complicate things...

You’d make it ducking difficult though

Yes i said ducking, Simeon is an Angel he legally cannot say fuck

It’s just... the way you were ogling him, undressing him with your beautiful and captivating eyes... fjdlficjsn

His chest would tighten, breath caught and heart in his throat

He was well aware what that feeling was, his brows downturned at the thought

“Is something wrong, Simeon?”

He’d hold a hand up, gently but firm, “No, i’m alright, thank you.”

You can’t help but feel a little guilty... after all you did just have certain thoughts about an Angel

Seeing your crestfallen face, he’d immediately snap to - gently reaching for your hand with that crinkly eyes smile,

“Don’t look so glum, MC. Everything’s alright.”

He was simply radiant, you couldnt help but return that smile

Depending on what floats your boat, i’ll let you imagine what the outcome was

Solomon 🧙‍♂️

Hahah oh boy...

“Oh? And why would you want me to wear that?” ;) TEASE

Would give That Smirk TM

This could literally go one of two ways:

One, he wears a cute cropped T and says “Well, what were you expecting from me?” ;) TEEAASSEE

He knows God damn well what you were expecting lmao

OR

Quite literally wears some leather skin tight crop that shows off all his tatts, all his packs and muscles... like dayum haha

Either way you’re speechless

He is one cocky lil shit, he’d love it

“Finally i’ve drawn your attention from those brothers, have i?” “Wh-what?!” “;)”

Nosebleed

“I’d like to request you wear one too, it’s only fair after all.”

Whilst having you gently ensnared against a wall between his palms, with those eyes entrancing you to keep you there

You’d never seen him in that light so deeply than after your request

Your eyes trail his form once again, surprisingly more muscular than you’d anticipated from under the RAD uniform

You’d flush from under his gaze, not quite sure where to look, what to say -

“Cat got your tongue?” Ajsksknxdn

He’d need want to hear you say it.

“I - i didn’t realise you’d tease me about it.” You look away with rosy cheeks

His teasing smile would falter a moment, asking more seriously, “why would you ask me to wear a crop top?”

You’d find his gaze, tongue tied for an answer

You’d swallow from under his penetrating gaze that seemed more serious than before

“I...” why did you ask him again?

“I just... wanted to see it.” “‘It’? That’s not very specific.” Ahsksknsk LOL such a tease

You’d hate that he made you admit it, you forced through gritted teeth, “I wanted to see what you looked like in a crop, what more do you want me to say?”

His smirk tugging on his handsome lips again before warm breath carasses the shell of your ear, “I want to see what you look like too.”

Lmao #Exposed

Nosebleed 2.0

Barbatos 🕰

Yo, you would have some mad guts to request it when he’s working hahah

He would instantly flush and comment calmly how inappropriate your request is

Diavolo would laugh if he heard your request and his reponse from beside you both

But if you were alone with him, perhaps a little closer to him...

I stand by the fact i think ‘Barbietos’ is a Dark Horse TM

This man has a dark side lowkey yandere vibes maybe? Idk yet need to see more of him tbh

if you’re close and you ask, similarly to Solomon he’d smirk and tease

Barbatos is sarcastic but he wouldn’t snark you for this, especially with your blushing features

He’d utter your name, before finally mustering the strength to ask, “what kind of cropped top do you want me to wear?”

You’d have to be immensely private about it, ofc he can have a private life but he is literally at the service of the Prince of that realm

Not just the crop top request etc, the entire relationship would be kept under radar for a long time

I can see his crop being loose, the satin like material draped tastefully from his shoulders and revealing his midriff

The emerald green colour so dark you thought it was black until you saw it’s sheen under the light

You might have already seen his body at this point but you can’t help absorbing his features like a sponge

His abdominal muscles, his strong shoulders... he was also much stronger than he looked under a uniform

He’d stand before you, as you rise to your knees upon his sheets, eye level with his chest

“Tonight, I could serve you for a change.”

He’s probably not as quiet as we think

Diavolo 👑

If Lucifer ever heard about your request, you’ll be out of the Devildom faster than you can say Demonus

You’d have to be incredibly brave and or stupid to even ask in the first place...

However, Diavolo wouldn’t actually mind, “come now Lucifer! It’s a fashion trend in their realm! It sounds fun!” With That Laugh TM

Diavolo is actually pretty lonely, loads of people feel they can’t approach him so he’d acc happy that you felt you could ask that of him

If you were closer than that, you’d be visiting the palace upon his request

If and when you’re alone, you’d ask him to wear one

He still wouldn’t initially see it in that way, his own demon form is shirtless

“I’d like to try one! Have you any ideas in mind?”

After understanding the nature of your request, something will flash passed in those golden irises

“I see... so this garment will grant you a certain gratification?” BLUSH

It’s not secret that Diavolo is the biggest demon, he is one big muscle machine

You’d struggle to find a crop that fit him ngl

he’d have one custom made from your design idea

You’d want him in a maroon or black one, specked with elements of gold to match his eyes

It would be snug due to his size, seeing every inch of muscle from underneath like a marble sculputre

There was something so.. awe inspiringly beautiful about it your breath stopped short

Any prior thought was lost as you silently trace the edges of him with your eyes

“Do you like it?” :) - well... duh haha

“What are you doing still standing over there?”

All would fall silent save for faint breaths and the steady beating of your hearts as you trace the crop’s fabric with your fingertips

He’s surprisingly soften as he’d watch you doing so

He’d wrap his strong arms around you, gentle fingertips stroking your hair

he’d murmur “I’m pleased you like it.”

Soft kisses planted on your forehead and you’re a goner - putty in his arms

“Might I ask... would you wear one?”

You bloody well would lmao

Might edit these later and need to link to the brothers one but hey ho, enjoy! ✨

School Uniform Story Notes ✨ (1/2)

this is for the people like me who can never remember which story a certain scene you’re trying to find came from 💢 and for anyone else who just wants to know what happened 😭😭

Part 1: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia Part 2: Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (coming soon!)

Riddle 🌹 There’s No Drawback to Not Knowing

Ace and Cater discuss which phone cases are in style right now; Riddle doesn’t know anything about the latest trends but he’s fine with that because it makes no difference to him. When Ace tries to explain them, Riddle repeats that it’s not important and snaps at them to go somewhere else. Once they leave, he mutters to himself that he’ll look into them later.

They mention that a paper talking about new discoveries in the history of the Land of Hot Sands was published (which affected everyone’s history tests) 👀 I wonder if that involved Jafar at all

Riddle doesn’t check the results of his exams because he knows he always gets 100%

Cater’s phone case is considered trendy right now lmaoo

Ace mentions wanting a phone case design featuring creatures with “fuzzy heads and legs growing out of their eyes” (the momeraths??)

Ace ♥ Such an Honest Freshman

Ace helps Trey carry back groceries from the store, under the guise of wanting a piece of pie with lots of cherries on it in return. Trey suspects that he wants more than just some cherry pie—Ace ends up spilling that he wanted Trey to tell him which topics would be covered on their history tests.

Ace’s brother is 7 years older than him, and used to take him lots of places together 🥺

Trey usually reads or does homework to pass time at the dorm; he didn’t slack off even as a freshman because he knew Riddle would be coming the year after and he didn’t want Riddle to be angry with his grades 😂

Trey used to make sweets for his little siblings when they pestered him for them!! And he’s been helping around his family’s bakery since he was little

Deuce ♠ One With the Wind

Ace can’t decide which club he wants to join since they all sound tempting. Deuce mentions he joined track and field because there was no Magical Wheel club, which gets him started on a tangent about how much he loves those motorcycles and how he can’t believe Ace has never even touched one.

Deuce tried to open a Magical Wheel Lovers Club but Crowley rejected it

When he was little, Deuce used to get Magical Wheel magazines and admire all the models 😂😂

Magical Wheels are fueled by the drivers’ magic power 👀

Deuce loves the high-speed feeling of “becoming one with the wind” (ie. going really fast on a motorcycle, also sprinting and things for track and field)

Cater ♦ The Portrait of Rosalia

Cater tries to get Kalim and Leona to join a party to keep the lonely portrait Rosalia company. The truth is, he just wanted to put Rosalia in a good mood so she’d share what would be on the next history test with him.

Rosalia hangs in the west school building (the rose in the west wing??), near the staff room and has been there for years; she knows stories about magift tournaments from the past.

Cater implies he knows some secrets about Kalim 🤔

Mentions that Leona comes from a ‘ladies first’ culture

Trey ♣ Open Your Mouth

The Queen has a rule saying that if you eat turkey for dinner, you must brush your teeth two times that night. Ace tries to get away with only brushing once, but Trey catches him and asks both him and Deuce to let him smell their breath to make sure they both brushed at least once already; then he apologizes because he used to do that with his little siblings and it became a habit. He proceeds to give them detailed advice about brushing their teeth.

I didn’t like this one lmao it felt kind of pointless

But anyway Trey knows weirdly thorough tooth-brushing techniques, a lot about teeth in general, and has multiple brushes for focusing on different parts of his mouth 🦷

Leona 🦁 I Grew Up Spoiled

Vil needs Leona to take some pictures with him for the school newspaper. Although reluctant at first, he eventually agrees because Vil won’t stop annoying him about it. Before they go to the shoot, Vil notices one of the buttons on Leona’s vest is coming off and offers him his sewing supplies to fix it. But Leona says if he wants it fixed he should just do it himself (also Leona grew up spoiled and doesn’t know how to sew). Vil gets really salty with his attitude and says he’ll only do it because he needs “his props” to look pristine.

They’re both super catty with each other 😂

At one point Vil said the button wasn’t the right one and asked for a different one; Leona handed him a new one and said “Oh btw this is a magic button, it always comes back even if it comes off.” Vil was like “????” and Leona explained sometimes he’ll leave his clothes that lost a button in his room, and he’ll find it later with this button sewed back on again

Vil said it’s probably Ruggie who quietly sews them back on for him 😭😭 but smh Leona just replied “Oh well same deal, it always comes back”

Jack 🐺 I’ll Expose Your Crimes!

Jack smells something weird in the cafeteria and decides to go investigate. The smell first leads him to the Leech twins; he wrestles Floyd for this suspicious briefcase that they have (turns out there was just a beauty serum inside that they were bringing to a customer). Then Jack realizes the smell was actually coming from Epel; he forcibly pulls a container out from Epel’s jacket pocket and finds... several types of onion product in there (Jack hates onions). Epel reveals he’s been hiding the onions because Vil is forcing him to eat really bland food and the onions help give them flavor.

Jack suspected the smell was a chemical leak in the school and his first thought was “I won’t be able to get in today’s workout!!” sir,,,,,

His sense of smell gets immensely better in his wolf form

After they sorted everything out, Epel invited Jack to sit with him for lunch 🥺

Ruggie 🐆 In Grandma’s Hands

Ruggie comes down to the cafeteria in the middle of the night because Leona wanted a midnight snack. He finds a bunch of vegetables in the kitchen and decides to make some soup with them. Jade appears and informs him that those actually belong to him; to avoid having to owe him any debts, Ruggie offers to teach Jade some ways to cook them, since the reason Jade had left them there in the first place was so that he could ask the ghost chefs for recipe suggestions in the morning.

The awkward laugh they shared when Ruggie realized the vegetables were Jade’s tho 😂😂 I wish the side stories were voiced omg

The one who taught Ruggie all of those recipes was his grandma

Also Ruggie sings while he cooks 👁👁💖

Azul 🐙 Just One Die

Idia brings a game called The Magical Game of Life to one of the board game club meetings; Azul gets very passionate about it despite at first turning his nose up at games that only rely on luck. Eventually he starts practicing how to perfectly throw a die to land on the number he wants so he can cheat the luck factor.

Azul.... honest to god he never slacks off 😭

Jade 🐬 A Mindset I Can’t Understand

Jade is making teas in the middle of the courtyard when Kalim stops by to see what’s going on. Kalim ends up talking about teas from his home, and Jade asks if he could show him how to brew the special tea they have for guests. It’s supposed to be super sweet so Kalim insists on dumping as much sugar as possible into the cup, but Jade really hates sugar.

Kalim got so disgusted when Jade was talking about his raw meat diet in the sea 😂😂

But also Kalim 🙏 He tries so hard to help everyone but he always happens to miss the mark

Floyd 🦈 Talk with Me About Something Fun

Floyd gets bored working on a report so he decides to go bug Riddle, insisting that they do their homework together. He helps Riddle find a book he needs but won’t quit playing around with him over it. In his anger, Riddle brings up how differently Jade is compared to him, and Floyd immediately gets bored and leaves.

The book Riddle needed was called “The History of Magic Carpet Weaving”

Kalim 🦂 Let’s Get Along!

Kalim is shopping at Mr. S’s Mystery Shop for the Scarabia 1st years welcome party. Riddle asks him why he’s the one running errands and not Jamil (the reason was that Jamil was stressed with how Kalim was handling the decorations for the party so sent him away basically 😂). Kalim ends up inviting Riddle to the party; he only agrees after he hears there will be a magic carpet there.

Kalim is so rich it hurts 💀 Riddle called him out for yawning during dorm leader meetings and he said “If I yawned at Scarabia, Jamil would just get my bed ready for me!”

When he was talking about the magic carpet Kalim said “Let’s go to the end of the world together” (Was that the name of the wintry tundra in Aladdin??)

This is the one where Kalim talks about how he only eats Jamil’s food because he used to get poisoned as a child; his dad & Jamil had told him “This is the fate of the oldest son of the Asim family”

Jamil 🐍 I Mean It

At lunch, Kalim and Ruggie go get food for themselves plus Jamil and Leona; while they’re waiting, Leona implies that Jamil might try to hurt Kalim someday, much to Jamil’s offense. Later Ruggie and Jamil mull over having to work with their respective ‘masters.’

Leona’s intelligence is often downplayed bc of how lazy he is but he really is good at figuring things out 👁 This was shown in Cater’s story too.

Ruggie and Jamil having that little squabble about how they think each other’s masters (for lack of a better word) would be more difficult to deal with was kind of cute 😂

(not me reading this back and thinking you could make a drinking game out of this ask because of how many times i say “because” lmaooooo)

i’ve never actually seen wgm but i really love the idea of hinata being on the show, because i feel like he would be so starry-eyed the entire time. literal ✨👄✨ at everything because he’s never thought about what being married would be like and now suddenly he gets to experience it??!!?! he fumbles through all of it, and the fans love him for it because a lot of the other participants seem so smooth and suave, but not with hinata! he blurts his thoughts out as they come, he’s clumsy in situations that would normally require him to be put-together, he makes a huge deal out of every little thing. the first time his partner brought him a bouquet of flowers, hinata literally turns bright red and starts rambling so fast the audio just barely picks it up—

“you didn’t have to but that was really nice of you, i’ll get you something next time, hey, the flowers smell sweet, oh no, that’s actually you, you smell so nice, have you always smelt that way, you should definitely tell me what body spray you use because i might just have to get some of that—“

and the fans eat it up. and so does their partner who absolutely adores him even if hinata doesn’t quite get/see it.

i feel like it would also be hilarious if the partner was someone who isn’t necessarily the biggest (by choice, they don’t want to be in the spotlight all that much) but because of a really big project they have out soon, their team thinks they should get some of that pr. maybe a painter or a sculpture? one that has gotten a lot of attention as of late because their art is a little controversial/suggestive but has somehow managed to keep most of the media on the actual art and not on themself. they come off as really shy and recluse, but the second they get on the show, hinata brings them out of their shell, and that makes the fans like them even more. they love getting to see the artist behind everything and they especially love seeing how their artist brain translates into the real world. and just the idea of hinata being the kind of person who would be able to make even the most introverted person go a little crazy is something i think would be hilarious on reality tv.

anyway, hinata gets a lot smoother as they continue on, and it absolutely floors the fans because he’s so different from when he started. he holds his partner’s hand like it’s nothing, he says super sweet things without missing a beat, he holds eye contact without looking like he’s trying to win some unproclaimed competition. but he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, and the partner is too nervous that he’ll get weird about it to say anything.

by the end of their time on the show, fans can see how deflated the partner is even though they’re really good at hiding it still, and hinata is off too, but he can’t tell why. he is still chipper and all over the place, and the partner is still more open and engaging, but their energy is off. hinata chalks it up to them going to miss the time they shared together, but even that doesn’t feel quite right.

after they leave the show, hinata is super excited to see that the partner has started doing more community stuff (charities where they show up in person, giving art classes to people that donate certain amounts to organizations and projects that they support, going out in public and doing sketches/paintings of people on the street for reference later and recording tiny interviews with them as they do it to make a new documentary of the process or something). he gushes about it all over his social medias and anywhere else he can get someone to listen because they don’t have the time to actually ever meet up with the way their schedules are. he even starts posting behind-the-scenes clips that he had taken (with the permission of the partner) to engage with both parts of their fan bases.

and the partner does the same for hinata. they do a bunch of pieces of the jackals and sells them to get both of their communities involved and supporting them even if they can’t go to the actual games. their instagram is flooded with designs of new projects for them and even more of them of just hinata, all of which have captions that target just hinata (“wow, my ex-husband is so fine 🥵” “that’s your man? mhm! look at him! yeah, that’s mine” and other stupid, cheesy ones that make the fans feral because damn, they really have come out of their shell, huh?!)

the internet loves it, and they love even more that hinata seems to become the person at the beginning of the show all over again, flustered and a mess and tripping over his feet. a new hashtag starts because of it about the two of them being in love still (as a joke) and people upload some of their favorite moments of the pair together. when hinata sees it, he tries to play it off (horribly) but when he finally gets to talk to their partner about it, there’s a calmness in their voice that eases him just a little bit, and suddenly he’s aware of why exactly leaving felt so wrong.

this got a little sidetracked, but i don’t even mind, lololol. also, i definitely need to check out the show after this because i love the fake dating/marriage idea. thanks for putting me on to it! make sure to drink water, have a snack if you haven’t eaten in a bit, and take deep breaths! -🌙

— from elle ! okay but hinata and a painter/artist!partner is literally such an amazing idea to dive into, this now lives in my head and i will continue thinking about it for days on end. i absolutely love everything that you’ve sent aaa i’m actually screaming, i had a difficult time picking which part of your hc to focus on bec so many things popped into my head. but i ended up choosing to kind of pick up where you left off for my little addition (under the cut as usual) tysm for this 🌙 anon ! take care <3

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

hinata’s blush grows redder every second he spent staring at his phone, his twitter mentions filled with photos, edits, and even fanmade animations of the two of you. your shipname was trending again, all after you posted a rare photo of yourself in msby merch. you looked cute, that much was evident to hinata. then again, he always thought of you as cute — from the second you walked into set, all shy and nervous, from the minute you left it, your arms wrapped wrapped around his neck. why was he acting like this? filming had ended months ago; he’d grown more confident around you, hadn’t he?

your name flashed across his phone screen, interrupting his train of thought — you were calling him. his heart beat sped up, fingertips immediately moving towards the ‘answer’ button.

“hey shoyo!” you greeted, enthusiasm very much evident in your voice, “did you see the picture i just posted?”

“i did! um...you look great.” he mumbled, unsure if you had heard him, heat continuing to rush towards the apples of his cheeks.

“thanks!” he hears your chuckling from the other end of the line, and a small part of his mind convinces himself that you were somehow teasing him. “you’re coming tomorrow, right?”

“what’s tomorrow?”

“my photo exhibit, silly.”

ah, that. hinata could imagine you shaking your head, biting your lip as you attempt not to burst out into laughter at his cluelessness. the beating of his heart is more rapid now, thinking of how you anticipated his answer, how you wanted him to be there. “i was only kidding, of course i’ll be there.”

“sure,” you replied like you didn’t really believe him, “i’ll see you then.”

—

hinata was the one who convinced you to get into photography. truthfully, you wanted to try and exploring other mediums beside your usual set of paint and pencils.

“maybe i should try taking photos.” you joked, gently nudging his shoulders as the two of you browsed various film cameras. the crew had taken a brief break from filming, but you and hinata still wanted to continue exploring the various antique shops that lined the street.

“go for it!” he replied without missing a single beat, quickly rattling off a list of potential subjects, “you can take photos of plants, or maybe animals, really pretty scenery...it’s not even going to matter because i know you’ll end up taking really amazing photos.”

and when hinata insisted that he pay for the camera you chose, you decide on a subject.

__

the gallery is empty. well, at least the reception area is.

hinata’s dressed in his finest button-down and slacks, black dress shoes clicking against the white granite tiles. the receptionist directs him to the floor where your exhibition is meant to be held — right at the very top.

his brows furrow, there should be more people here. photographers, critics, fans even. he should’ve been greeted by reporters, by the surely hundreds of people all excited to see your work. you had only grown in popularity since your appearance on wgm, the number of people going to your exhibits only ever increasing. he should know, hinata’s been to every single one over the course of the show’s run. he knew what to expect. and it was certainly not this.

the elevator dings, indicating that he had reached the top floor. still, not a single person there. the frown on his face only deepens. hinata catches a glimpse of the exhibition’s title, “beyond the cameras: a retrospective”

the glass door is unlocked, hinata pushes through them only to be greeted with pictures of the last subject he expected: himself.

framed on the white walls of what possibly was tokyo’s most famous gallery were photos of him, glossy and bright, colors vivid and alluring. and they weren’t just any photos too, they were photos taken on the rare occasions wherein cameras weren’t following your every move. there were photos of him from nights he snuck you in the gym to teach you how to play volleyball, ones of him covered in paint taken in your studio, ones of him attempting to make you breakfast. all of which had him looking away from the camera.

that is until he reaches the final photo, the only one that had you in it as well, taken the night before the final day of filming. he was looking at the camera, but you were looking right at him — your gaze soft, the corners of your lips forming the smallest of smiles.

“so maybe i lied,” hinata heard a voice speak from beside him, recognizing it as yours almost immediately, “the exhibition is actually tomorrow. i just wanted you to see it first.”

“but why me?” he asked, biting the inside of his cheek.

“just because.” you shrugged, not even turning to look at him, gazing at your final photo — just like he was.

but hinata feels it, the tightening in his chest, the tension that enveloped your bodies as the two of you continued to stare straight ahead. he hears it, the ringing in his hears, the hammering of his heart, the unevenness of his breath.

you stand next to him, just a few inches separating you. hinata’s hand is drawn like a magnet to yours. at first your knuckles graze, and hinata holds his breath. then his fingertips push in between yours, you bite your lip. finally he he grasps your hand, a quiet exhale escapes you both.

you tear your eyes away from the photograph at the same time he does; your gazes meet. and just like that, you finally reach the same understanding as him, of just why leaving felt so wrong.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: how would the hq boys (specifically timeskip) act on a variety show like we got married?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29

join my hq taglist here. <3

The Lionett Estate Scene Ep92 Transcribed

So that final scene of the episode absolutely destroyed me, but so much was going on and I didn’t want to misremember any of it.

So I transcribed the whole thing while watching the rerun because I’m not a subscriber lol. Anyway it’s under the read more, including everything up to the gang arriving at the Lionett Estate to the end of the episode! I might’ve missed my body language, but I think I got everything else right.

Jester: Beau… whatever happens… he was an asshole for being mean to you. You’re a wonderful person… [Looks at Nott, and the others.] Nott: You’re a wonderful person! Jester: You’re a wonderful person he was lucky to have you for a daughter, hopefully he will realise that now. If he doesn’t, remember what you told me. Fuck him. You have us, and we love you so much, okay? Beau: Thanks Jes. [They hug, and then Beau exhales.] They added an arch. It’s even more pretentious now. Okay lets go. Nott: Do we knock? Or call? [Description from Matt. Yasha looks for flowers, of which there are none. Fjord looks for guards. There’s about two. They walk to the gate, which Beau unlocks with a hair pin. They hitch their horses.] Nott: After you, Beauregard.
 Jester: If you want us to attack anyone at all, just say armadillo. Beau: Armadillo, got it. [Deep breath.] Okay. Lets go. Fjord: Do you want us with you? Beau: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I roll deep, that looks fucking awesome. Jester: You’re in charge of us, you’re the leader of the group, cool cool, cool? Beau: It’s fine it’s fine- Okay, let’s go. [They walk to the front door. Beau uses the door knocker. Door knocker jokes ensue.] Servant: Hello, can I help you? Beau: Is the lady or man of the house here tonight? Servant: May I ask who’s inquiring? Jester: Tch. Beau: Beauregard Lionett. Servant: [visibly shocked] Oh, um, I’m afraid the master is attending to the vineyards at the moment, he’ll probably be back shortly for dinner. Ms Lionett is inside, please enter. Jester: Oh shit. Beau, what if your dad recognises my voice? Beau: He probably will. Jester: shit- [chatter between Jester, Beau and Nott about Jester changing her voice.] Servant: Wait just a moment. Madame? Madame? [Beau walks over to the fireplace and stares at it.] Nott: Yeah, I mean, looks pretty awful here. Right? No? Caleb: The family has done alright for themselves. Jester: How you are- how- how- Nott: How you are. Jester: How are you? Are? [Nott and Fjord both mess around with the order of ‘How are you’] Clara: B e au re gard- Beau: Hey Mom. Clara: I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming. Uh- Beau: Yeah its kinda a trend I have going on. Clara: Well- uh- hehe- [Walks down stairs, approaches, halts, uncertain.] [Awkward, kinda warm, kinda stilted hug between Clara and Beau ensues.] Beau: I’m sorry to barge in, I know you were wanting to kinda keep me distant from the family but, um, I need to talk to Dad its important. And then we’ll be gone and you don’t have to [unintelligible] anymore- Clara: Oh you can stay as long as you like and who are your friends? TJ: Mommy? [runs downstairs and hangs onto Clara.] [Clara takes Beau’s hands.] Clara: It’s good to see you. Beau: Yeah? Clara: Would you like to stay for dinner? Someone, probably Jester: mmm- Fjord: That’s most gracious of you. We are the Mighty Nein, we are esteemed friends of your daughter. Clara: Well any friends of Beauregard are friends of ours. So, uh- Nott: How you are? Clara: Uh- I’m Clara Lionett. Beauregard’s mother but I assume you know that by now. Um- I’ll ensure some places are set. Beau: Hey Mom, remember that year we had that, like- mudslide that ended up happening and took out half our stock and we only have a few bottles left can we grab one of those. I’ve been talking about that a lot and uh- Clara: Yes, of course [sends a servant for a bottle] Anyway, uh, Oh my goodness oh my goodness I didn’t even, Beauregard- Clara: Thoreau Jr, I’d like you to meet your older sister Beauregard, Beauregard this is Thoreau Jr. TJ: That sister? Clara: Yes, that’s your sister. [TJ walks up, Beau crouches down. They hug. I die.] Beau: He’s has that uh smell to him. Like all the fuckin kids in Kamordah. Clara: Uh, we were hoping you’d come by sometime to meet him. Beau: Did you know- It was the timeline was always interesting to me. Did you know you were pregnant with him when you sent me away? [Long, very awkward silence] Fjord, very randomly: The Mantle is LOVELY uH-Jester would you help me out for a moment, Nott- perhaps uh [clears throat] if everyone- [Beau leans down to TJ] Beau: Hey little man. TJ: Hey. Beau: What’s your favourite colour? [TJ looks totally stumped before he points at Clara’s dress] Beau: Green? [TJ nods] Beau: Well here, you might like this then. [Passes over her jade necklace. He begins to eat it.] Yeah. It’s been in some dank places little man so uh, it’ll really build up your immune system. [TJ continues to eat it.] Clara: Look. Beauregard… Things are challenging all around, I didn’t- You’re father didn’t mean things to- become so tense. When you went away. Beau: Well it was a hell of a goodbye, you know. Not entirely sure why anyone would think that was a good fuckin idea to handle a situation. With a daughter that was clearly just wanting your fucking attention. Clara: I’m sorry. And it doesn’t mean much. Your father was under a lot of stress and- Beau: [scoff] Clara: Things should’ve been handled differently, you’re right you’re absolutely right. Beau: Fuck Mom. So you’re just as passive as you were back in the day. Did you get that bottle of wine? [Jeanine appears with wine] Beau: JEANINE. MY HERO. Clara: Here’s the thing- Beau: Jeanine! Jeanine! Jeanine! Give- [Passes out wine.] It’s like, one of our most expensive bottles of wine, so, enjoy. [Door opens. Thoreau Arrives. He is Surprised.] Thoreau: Beauregard. Beau: Hiiiii. [Waves loosely.] I’m home. Thoreau: I can see that. I… was not expecting to see you today- Beau: or ever. Thoreau: Welcome, welcome. Friends of yours, I assume? Beau: Yeah, mum, dad, this is the Mighty Nein. Nott: Hi. [Thoreau looks at Nott and instantly gets weird.] Beau: Dad, don’t. Don’t do that, Dad. Nott: Oh. It’s fine. [Clara picks up TJ] Beau: Fucking embarrassing. Nott: Cute kid. Yasha: Looks very tasty. [Clara looks very concerned.] Clara: I’m gonna put TJ to- put him down. [Clara and TJ leave the room.] Thoreau: Well it’s a pleasure to have you all. I’m glad you’ve all been… been… travelling, I assume. [Nott rifles for cups] Thoreau: I’ve been receiving updates about your work with the Cobalt Soul. Apparently been doing quite some fine work. I-I guess I should say Expositor Beauregard? That’s incredible, I mean- Beau: Still sending you tuition updates, huh? Thoreau: Well, it’s important for us to know how our Beauregard’s doing. Caleb: Unparalleled, she is. Thoreau: Mhmm, as she would be. [Jester makes a 23 Insight Check to see if Thoreau is being genuine and gets a whisper] Nott: Found a couple cups. Caduceus: This I will try. Nott: Ooh. Thoreau: Well, I- uh- A toast to Expositor Beauregard Lionett, heh. Fjord: Cheers. [Everyone raises their glasses.] Thoreau: I know you well enough, Beauregard, to assume you haven’t come for the sake of pleasantries. [Jester moves next to Beau and puts a hand on her back] Jester, whispering: Do you want us to stay? Beau, very quiet: please. Beau, louder: Uh- yeah, you know me Dad, wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want something. Um- listen, that story you love to tell at every family gathering and for bedtime and any chance you had, uh- that old hag that you talked about. We need to find her. Is that story even real? Or is it just meant to terrify me. [T finishes drink and sets it down.] Thoreau: Of course it’s real, Beauregard. Look, I know you- I know we’ve had our differences. And I’ve not- I’ve not been the pinnacle of a father in the same way that you’ve been the pinnacle of a daughter. I accept my responsibilities in the things I may have been a bit harsh on. But look what you’ve become. Beau: This feels like a- a weird justification of your behaviours, but I’d like to hope that I became had fucking nothing to do with you but maybe I’d be lying to myself. Yeah, I was difficult. I had my onus(?) in everything that happened. But I thought a dad was supposed to stay by their kid when they’re having a fucking hard time. [pause] Mom already fucking mentioned that life gets difficult and its hard. So you’re right maybe it’s easy to justify the easy way out, just get rid of the problem. Thoreau: That’s not what this was about. You were on a self-destructive path. We didn’t know what to do. I’ve never been a- no one teaches you how to be a good father. [pause] I regret choices I have made, and you think I don’t hold myself responsible for- I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly. Beau: You did. It was probably the best thing you could’ve done for me, so thank you. [pause] Beau: Tell me the story again, and then I’ll go. [pause] Thoreau: It’s true. I haven’t lied to you or made anything up. Why are you asking about this? [Beau looks at Nott] Beau: She has information we need. Thorau: You’re trying to actually.. go to her? Beau: We need her. Thoreau: What for? [pause, Beau looks at Nott again.] Beau: Why are you afraid? Thoreau: I’m not afraid, I’m just curious. Beau: We think she has something to do with why… Jester, in some kind of southern accent: We need it to break a curse, that’s all. [The cast break into giggles.] Nott: Your daughters trying to do what she always does. Help a friend. Thoreau: Well… I mean I just heard the stories. Growing up about the witch in the mountains. Beau: What was her name? Thoreau: I don’t remember she was just the witch in the mountains- Beau you know how I grew up, I had nothing. I was in the street I had nothing to lose. I mean if I was lucky, it would work. If I wasn’t quite as lucky she’d chop me up and eat me, I didn’t have anything else waiting for me. So I-uh just went and wandered north, through the mountains through the forest and my shoes began to split and chased by wolves and worse til eventually one day I just stumbled upon this little shack. And there was the witch, right when I began to think it was all a lie and I’d thrown myself to the wolves for nothing, there she was. With her crooked smile and hungry eyes. Jester: did she have long arms? Thoreau: Longer than natural, yeah. She asked me how I come here and threw myself so withered before her and I said I had nothing to lose and had heard that she can help people. She said she could. She said she was a fortuneteller. She said fortune was her specialty. And so she threw her runes and played her cards and said that there was a way to get what I always wanted. For just a fragment of… my fortune. And I said well I don’t have a fortune. She said, not that fortune. Your {pointing at beau] fortune. And I agreed because I had nothing to lose. So this woman I wanted to marry doesn’t deserve an impoverished man. Whatever it takes. And so, she said, I’ll be a great craftsman, working in fine spirits, to pick a place in the mountain land and wherever I picked, the ground would grow. She said that a young Beau/Bow(?) would take on the great name, to continue the success. Til everything, eventually, will humble me by that which I desire most. [pause] And then she sent me on my way. [Pause] Thoreau: We came back, we built our land, the last bit we could borrow from our family, and she was right. And we had another blessing [gesture to Beau]. And the fact that it all worked means I don’t know what else she took, and I don’t know what’s coming to humble me, and I just wanna protect my family, so if you intend to actually go and see this witch, just be careful. Beau: For me? Or for you and yours? Thoreau: For Us, Beauregard. [Pause] Beau: Maybe I’m the one that’s sent to humble you. Thoreau: [inhale] Beau, don’t think for any moment that your mother and I haven’t loved you from the depths of our hearts this entire time- I’m sorry if we didn’t show it properly. [Pause. Beau shakes her head, before chuckling.] Beau, tearful: I don’t know if I feel validated or vindicated or what! Jester, quiet: It’s so confusing. Thoreau: My apologies. I didn’t realise this would be- the evening I think any of us was coming home to. I’m a bit caught off guard, and unprepared. Beau: Yeah. Well, some things never change, do they, Dad? Jester: Beau? [pulls her aside] Beau: I’m like seconds away from losing my shit- Jester: I know, I know you are. Um, I just want you to know that, um, he looks like he’s telling the truth. Beau, obviously he was terrible to you, obviously he didn’t terrible things and he sent you away and that’s horrible, but I do believe they love you. I do. And- I don’t expect you to forgive them right away by any means.  But I would just encourage you to maybe, maybe, listen to them the way you listen to us, with open ears. Beau: How did you do it? Jester: Do what?
 Beau: Forgive your dad so quickly. Jester: Well… I mean, he seemed pretty earnest… and, there’s not a lot to be gained from holding grudges. You know, it feels like poison inside of you. How much better would it feel if you could just… be clean. Beau: But I’m so good at holding grudges. Jester: I know, you’re really good at it. [pause] Beau: You make… an interesting point though. [unintelligible] Caleb: This is an excellent bottle. Thoreau: Well, looking at the bottle its an extremely rare one that I would have preferred to keep in the cellar, but it’s a special occasion, so, enjoy it. Caleb: A most special occasion. A reunion. With Beauregard. [pause] Beau: Im gonna go find this woman that you based so much of our entire lives around, and hope that I can better understand, why and where you’re coming from. Because- what you and mum didn’t do, a lot of the footwork into understanding me, it doesn’t mean that I can’t do my research to better understand where I came from. You’ve done a lot. To reflect on- what choices I’ve made to put me in the position that I”m in. And I guess I’m just mildly disappointed to see that the same amount of work hasn’t been done, or at least even remotely attempted- Thoreau: That’s not entirely true, Beauregard. [pause] Not entirely wrong, either. Beau: I gave Thoreau Jr the jade necklace. Make sure he doesn’t choke on it. Thoreau: D-don’t leave and go to his woman without any sort of protection, hold on just a second [He leaves.] Nott: You’re doing great, you’re doing amazing- Jester: You’re doing a really good job, Beau- Nott: Protection? You think that protects you? Beau: I told you, he’s incredibly superstitious. Jester: We never actually checked if it did anything it could be really valuable- [Caduceus casts Detect Good and Evil, then Detect Magic. Liam casts Fireball. Sadly, Caleb does not. Thoreau comes back with a new jade necklace. Lights are magic, necklace is not.] Thoreau: This is your mothers, but, just please, please, for me. If you’re going to do this. Beau: [unintelligible] -kind of an upgrade. Thoreau: I only hope… hope that I can make up to you, the missteps that I can plainly see behind me. It’s rare that a child’s damage at that age and- behaviour doesn’t reflect how I - misstepped in my parenting. [pause] Beau: … thank you, for that. Um- Thoreau: Your grandfather was no peach either, and there’s- there’s difficulty in realising how much you intended to be different. And then to realise that you’ve become so similar. So I hope that with the company you keep, maybe you won’t repeat the same mistakes I have. By treating the people around you. Beau: I’m trying to do better. [pause] I’ll let you know how it goes. Thoreau: Good, good. Jester: Are we staying- are we going- Nott: Are we leaving? Beau: We should go. Yasha; Yeah? Beau: Tell mom, thank you. [pause] MOM! [Clara appears] Clara: Yes? Beau: I’m going, mom. Clara: Oh, oh alright. [Brings TJ out as well] [Hands TJ to Thoreau, takes Beau’s hands] Clara: I’m sorry things- things are strained tonight, but it’s good to see you. Beau: [leans in, whispering] You’re allowed to have an opinion too, mom. I’ll let you know how it goes. Clara: Of course. [squeezes hand and lets go.] [TJ comes up, starts sucking on necklace again.] Clara: No-no- [Tries to stop him.] [Beau fist bumps TJ or something] Thoreau: Be safe. Beau: I will. I promise. Thoreau: [At M9] Keep her safe. Jester: Always! Caduceus: Of course. Jester: You won’t wanna give her an awkward hug or anything she’s gonna face a pretty powerful being. Beau: I think we’re good. Thoreau: Right. Jester: Okay, just checkin. Nott: Good luck to you too. Beau: Any landmarks to look out for?   Thoreau: If you hear noise, run. There was a thick, bramble, tangle. Partially grey and petrified, like many of the woods there. That means you’re close. If the ground begins to tar, it looks like, you’re almost there. And if I recall, it’s pretty straight north from here. Beau: Alright. Jester: Should we take horses there, or should we go on foot?
 Thoreau: You can take horses as far as you want but there’ll be a point where you won’t be able to bring them with you. Jester: So leave the horses here? Or- Nott: Take em for a bit Jester: alright. Nott, quiet: if we care about horses- Thoreau: Well, uh- the Mighty Nein. It’s been a pleasure having you. Welcome to the Lionett Estate and travel safe. We look forward to seeing you again. Nott: You too. Many years ago I was granted a wish by that same witch and I turned into this as a result so I hope the same doesn’t happen to you. Bye. Beau: Bye dad. [swipes a bottle of wine] [Nott takes the cup she was drinking and also steals some jade rabbit sculptures.] Nott: When our friend [Fjord/Travis, who was absent from the table at the time] gets out of the shitter tell him to meet us outside. [Yasha hangs back] Yasha: You should be very proud of your daughter, you are very lucky to have her. Thoreau: I agree. Yasha: You should show her that more then. If for some reason, we end up killing this hag, will all of this go away? [pause] Thoreau: I don’t know. Yasha: Well. Maybe that would help you remember what’s important. Have a good night. [They leave. Thoreau stands with the door open for a moment watching them before closing the door. Beau, crying a little, pulls the Nein into a group hug.] Beau, quiet: Yeah, that’s good.

[Episode Ends]

Out of curiosity, who were the first drivers to steal a place in y’alls hearts and how did it happen? Mine were Lando, Max, and Charles, and they still remain at the top (after the short months I’ve been an F1 fan). Warning: I gush under the cut.

For me, the first time I really noticed F1 was seeing it trend in the Tumblr tags so often last year to be honest lmao. Whenever I would scroll through out of curiosity I would always and without fail see this lil puppy like kid named Lando Norris pop up like every other post (f1blr really loves him) and I just thought he was adorable. I didn’t know how old he was but it was clear that he was incredibly young in what’s hailed as a man’s sport, and I’ve always had a soft spot for youngins doing Good Things (hello, hockey rookies). I was impressed by how well-spoken he often was (though this may just be because I’m used to hockey players literally being speech illiterate), especially considering his age, and even more so now that I know he can’t even say the word statistic and yet can give pretty insightful and lucid responses. It’s been a journey getting to learn the kind of person he is, or at least what he presents himself as, particularly throughout this unprecedented quarantine break. I know it sounds ridiculous when I say this considering he’s literally an F1 driver son of one of the richest couples in his region of the UK, but I’m so proud of everything he’s been able to do at such a young age and I think he deserves absolutely every good thing coming for him in F1, and I always worry that he’s burning himself out trying to please others and being self-deprecating, especially with his Twitch streams. I hope he’s taking care of himself and eating earlier than the 20:00 that he tends to eat at now and is drinking water and sleeping well and as a fan, I’m so excited to see him grow as a driver and as a person.

My first real intro to F1 was watching season 1 of Drive To Survive, which I’m sure is a rather painful sentence for many of y’all to read. Which means my first impression of Max Verstappen was that him and Daniel hate each other (how dare Netflix do this I’m heartbroken I missed prime Maxiel era) and that He’s An Asshole. But something about his prick-ish energy was just so appealing and it was obvious that he was supremely talented just from watching DTS. Also I thought he was ugly-cute right from the start sue me lmfao. I think this has made my love for him feel even more significant, because I feel like I was really able to unlearn the negatives and discover all the positives that he has to offer. Again, my affection for The Kids really popped out when I learned that he was the youngest person to ever drive in F1 and I’m reeeeally gunning for him to be the youngest WDC (I’m sorry Charles but I saw Max first), although at this rate this doesn’t seem plausible ://, but I digress. And obviously, I don’t know anything about his personal life or childhood, really, but knowing all that I’ve been made privy to about J*s, it’s so gratifying (even as an outsider) to see just how good he is at driving, the best and most well-deserved “fuck you” to his dad’s face. Toto Wolff basically gushing over him and subtly calling J*s out? Cried. He’s also quite the character and he never fails to make me laugh with his jokes while he streams or with his lack of fear of making things awkward if he’s asked a stupid question. And maybe I’ll be the first to admit this but I’m literally in love with his driving style (again, perhaps it’s the aggressive hockey fan in me that also loves Tom Wilson) and the sheer size of his massive fuckin balls bro.

Charles came to me last simply because DTS introduced him to me last lol. But y’all know Sauber Charles came along and stole my breath away at first sight. I’m not ashamed to say that I thought he was literally so hot and that was my first and only impression of him. But DTS finally did a good job at telling his story with his father and Jules, and when I heard that he fulfilled his lifelong dream by joining Ferrari “for Jules”, my love and pride for him erupted and solidified into the monster that it is now. He’s still so young and has gone through so much, and yet he’s been able to do so much as well (clearly he’s fuckin driving a Ferrari on and off track) and, like Max, he is just raw talent. Speaking of Max, the Lestappen relationship has been SUCH A SAGA and I literally am in love with it this is just me projecting my infatuation with the enemies to lovers trope into real life but what the fuck eh? I adore his enthusiasm for everything that he does, which obviously correlates with his racing driver’s obsession with winning, but also with his sim racing and Fortnite-ing as well as his determination to get his Twitch stream transitions perfected and his own brother’s similar drive to win. As someone who finds it difficult to get myself to do literally even the things I enjoy, I admire this so much. On that note, I think it’s been such a blessing to see such a loud and rambunctious personality behind the Ferrari racing machine that we see through the regular season.

There’s such a bright future for each of these guys and I’m lucky to have chosen guys that most likely have a long ways to go with this sport and won’t be going away anytime soon. The amount of excitement I feel for what I anticipate they’ll bring to the sport is literally unparalleled. Clearly, I’m not used to writing in any sophisticated manner on this website because it’s turned out to really not be sophisticated at all but I really just wanted to gush after beginning to watch the 2019 season in its entirety. ANYWAY I’m feeling mushy and awkward and uncomfy now so yall sound off lol

Give Thanks (Bucky Barnes x OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names--amends he needs to make. When he gets to M. & L. Kaminski, he finds the amends process a bit more...difficult than it should be. 

WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. 

Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 

He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 

But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 

Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.

Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 

Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 

The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 

He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 

Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 

He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 

"Hello?" 

Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. They were a light brown--taupe almost, standing out brightly in contrast to her long, full eyelashes. 

"Can I help you?"

Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 

"I'm looking for Mina Kaminski."

"You found her." 

He blanched. "You're Mina Kaminski?" 

The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, people who look like me aren't all named Singh or Patel" 

Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 

"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 

No. 

Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 

He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"

"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "Bucky Barnes as in Captain America and Bucky Barnes?"

He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 

"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 

His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.

His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."

She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking out her long dark hair, waves tousled together from having probably just woken up. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."

He shook his head. "I can wait out here."

She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."

"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.

He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 

The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"

"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.

"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."

"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"

"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Mina's voice called from elsewhere. 

Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 

"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 

He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 

"What happened to your hair?"

"Got a haircut," he shrugged.

She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."

"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 

A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 

"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.

She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.

Mina reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."

"She's cute." 

What an idiotic thing to say. 

"Wish I could take credit," Mina said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."

There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 

"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Mina in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 

This was the arm of a protector. 

She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 

"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Mina started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 

"You got a marker?"

"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Mina alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 

Mina turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"

"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."

The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 

"She'll be here around three." 

He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.

Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 

"Rocio," Mina prodded, gently. 

"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"

He liked her.

"That was really kind of you," Mina said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 

He shrugged. 

"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Mina sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Leela will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.

"I'll be back then." 

"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 

He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.

So much for getting easier.

Of Latte’s and Lingerie Chapter Nine

Hello friends, sorry for the wait but I am putting in hella hours right now at the bar I work at because we are crazy understaffed but I wanted to do a little update so please enjoy, also feel free, if you’re interested to ask me to tag you because I love that shit! Anyways, as always, here are the links to my first 8 chapters and ao3

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

AO3

Taglist: @catsssmeow @toodaloo-kangaroo

Marinette was surprised at how comfortable she was with “Aiden”. She sipped happily on her coffee and let her brain pool with ease. Conversation was easy. They didn’t know much about each other (or at least she didn’t know much about him) and once she got over the fact that he was the hottest guy she’d ever seen, she was able to put herself in what Alya called “super hero mode”. The ability to save any conversation from plummeting to an uncomfortable death. It helped a little that her company was just as friendly.

“So Marinette, do you think I can call you Mari?” She blushed a little.

“Oh, yeah that’s what all my friends called me,” she said with a small smile.

“Perfect!” he gushed. Marinette really needed to learn his name. She could not keep calling him Hot Guy or Aiden. Marinette reached out to his coffee cup.

“Did the barista at least spell your name right on the cup?” She tilted the plastic towards her, looking hopeful. “Aiden” laughed.

“I don’t think anyone would be able to read that chicken scratch.” Marinette was disappointed to see he was right. There was no way in hell anyone would be able to read that.

“I would probably be just as bad as a barista,” Marinette admitted glumly, retreating back to her seat. “Aiden” cocked his head to the side.

“You think so? You’re pretty friendly. And you obviously know how to deal with difficult people if you’re able to work with Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois.” Marinette laughed.

“Well, I’ve never actually met Gabriel in person but Audrey is something else.”

“Oh, you’ve never met Gabriel?” Marinette shook her head.

“No, I’ve always wanted to though.”

Marinette scowled. “I’ll get my chance soon enough,” she added sourly.

“Why do you always look so angry when you talk about the new show? Aren’t you excited?”

“Uh… its nothing. Why don’t we talk about your job! You haven’t actually told me what you do,” Marinette sputtered. The smile that appeared on the man’s face in front of her was so subtle and adorable, Marinette was positive that no matter what came out of his mouth, she would probably be able to listen to him talk about it for hours.

“Well, I work at a non profit organization where doctors perform treatments for people who don’t have enough money to pay for them otherwise. We get a lot of foreigners so I was hired as a translater.” Marinette gaped for a moment.

“Oh… wow. That’s awesome. That’s a lot cooler than what I do…” she muttered.

“So, what language do you speak? Or… Languages?” She asked. “Aiden” laughed.

“Well, I speak French, obviously, English and Chinese.” Marinette smiled at him.

“Wow, you’re pretty amazing.” When she saw him blush she immediately started stuttering again.

“I mean- uh well it’s really amazing that you can speak Chinese. I’m actually half Chinese you, know,” she gestured briefly to her face, “but I don’t speak any Chinese.”

“I could teach you if you want.” Marinette blinked and “Aiden” flushed, rubbing the back of his neck self-conciously.

“I mean! Only if you want. It’s a really beautiful language!” Marinette smiled at him. She was starting to notice that how similar they were.

“That would be awesome,” she assured him.

…

The longer Adrien sat on the patio with Marinette, the more he realized that he really liked her. She was beautiful, passionate and -most importantly- unbelievably positive, a trait that was not always easy to find. Conversation flowed like a river and he was floating.

He’d always been good at talking to people really. He was polite and sociable and he knew how friendly he came across. Maybe sometimes a little too friendly. He was trying very hard to monitor that now.

“So Mari, have you decided if you’re gonna be my date to the after party?” He was failing.

“I mean- have you thought about hanging out with me at the after party,” he said quickly. He really needed to think a little harder before he said things out loud. He wished he could have Nino in his head, approving the words that came out of his mouth before he hit “Speak”.

Marinette blushed and she opened her mouth before closing it.

“Do you not want to? That’s okay. Parties aren’t everyone’s scene!” Marinette sighed.

“No it’s not that I don’t want to. I’d love to. I’ll just have to see what happens. It’s gonna be a long night and… well… I don’t want to say yes and bail on you.” Adrien nodded.

“Yeah that makes sense. Thank you for that. I’ve been bailed on a lot and it’s not fun,” he admitted.

“You? That’s crazy,” Marinette snorted. Adrien gave her a puzzled look.

“Why?” Her eyes widened.

“Um… because… you’re…. just very nice. I’m surprised people would be able to bail on you without feeling terrible about it.” Adrien rolled his eyes a little.

“I wish that’s how that worked. Unfortunately it just means people think they can bail on me because they know I won’t get upset with them.”

“That’s terrible!” Marinette exclaimed. Adrien jumped a little but Marinette scowled at him.

“You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you like that. You should stand up for yourself and tell everyone to fuck off.” Adrien stared wide eyed at Marinette.

“Where did that come from?” Mari sighed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell but I hate that. I have three things that I can’t stand. Lying, fringe, and people who think its okay to just take advantage of other people.”

“Fringe?” Adrien asked with a laugh. Marinette slammed her coffee down on the table.

“Don’t even get me started on that ridiculous, stupid hippie trend,” she fumed. Adrien laughed harder.

“I kind of want to get a fringe bracelet to wear everytime I see you just so I can watch you make your angry face, its cute.” Adrien grinned widely at Marinette.

“You suck,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Oh come on, that’s such a random trend to get caught up on. Why not, bell bottoms or leg warmers? Really, fringe?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you AIDEN,” she shot back. Adrien laughed again.

“All right, all right.” Adrien saw Marinette glance at her phone.

“Do you have to go?” he asked. Marinette sighed.

“Yeah, my best friend is apparently having a crisis,” she admitted. Adrien checked the time on his own phone.

“Oh shit, have we really been here for two hours?” Marinette raised an eyebrow,

“You better watch your language,” she said with a smirk.

“What!?” he gasped. “You just said fuck not even three minutes ago!” Marinette giggled a little as she gathered her things. It sounded like bells tinkling and Adrien thought it might have been one of the cutest things he ever heard.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asked, sounding almost dazed as he looked at her face.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know the next time I’m out for coffee. Who knows hown long this place is gonna be out of commision for and I’m not very adventurous,” she said, getting up to leave. Adrien stood up and gave her a hug.

“Great, it was nice to hang out with you Mari,” he said sincerely. They pulled away and Marinette smiled shyly.

“Yeah it was nice to hang out with you too.”

As she walked away Adrien stared after her and he couldn’t help but grin. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. What a woman.

Next Chapter

@anonymous said... For any later thought: how do you interpret skeletons as a monster species? Obviously they’ve got some drastically different shapes than a normal human skeleton! But I’ve seen some interesting concepts (like fuzzy skeletons— cute— strange— but cute!). But are their any interesting biological traits you incorporate (claws, thicker bones, strength of tactile perception given they are Just Bones—) or social traits (any quirks of the species—)?

. OUT              @vertebralheights​ and i could give a whole lecture on skeleton biology (maybe we will one day lol) so ivy, feel free to chime in here with any thoughts. but! i reject the idea of most skeletons having ever been human. that being said, and i’m pulling from ivy’s lore here), there ARE some skeleton monsters who were specifically revived from dead humans (mostly during the war). they have their own unique traits i won’t get into because it’s not super relevant to your question && it’s not my lore or area of expertise. i am intrigued by the comment papyrus makes about skeletons being descended from humans, and i am interested in maybe exploring that, but that’s some backstory detail i have no time to think about right now. instead, i see their shapes and sizes are more reflective of other monster types than human types. that being said, i think that pre-war they were actually the species that bridged the gap between humans monsters mostly because of the familiarity and similarities to humans. of course, as times changed and skeletons as a concept became more associated with necromancy and death and all around spookiness, the humans began to reject the skeletons. this was one of the impetuses for the war.

             as for more specific biological traits, i can tell you what i don’t like. and by don’t like i mean fucking HATE. 1) ecto-genitalia/bodies/tongues/etc. i don’t judge anyone who DOES headcanon that but to me it’s just.... dumb and unnecessary. like rip to the entire udnertale fandom but i’m different. it was literally a concept only created for the sake of po.rn and i’m just not here for it?? the whole point of them being SKELETONS is that they’re vastly different from humans and like... all other monsters. just let them be actual skeletons. it’s way funnier that way. also, having ecto-parts is just an easy out for everything. if you’re going to conceptualize a species of monster, make it work within the confines of that species. skeletons are the ONLY pre-existing monster species (besides uh. dogs.). i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again -- just come up with something new! for fuck’s sake. okay, rant over.

               i’m not a fan of them having fur, hair, claws or fangs. again, that’s an aesthetic choice i just don’t get the point of. in my mind, they’re really just bones, held together by magic and magic alone. which is HILARIOUS because i love the idea of a skeleton being so tired/devoid of magical energy that they just sorta fall apart. they’re fine (i think they can detach random bones at will) but they have to kinda put themselves back together again. it doesn’t happen that often -- not even to sans except on rare occasions. pretty much only if their body isn’t producing enough magical energy to sustain their physical form. along those lines, the reason they’re able to eat without the food just falling out of them is that monster food as we know does not pass all the way through the body. the natural conclusion to this fact is that their bodies simply convert it to magical energy as it enters their system. this is what gives it it’s healing power. skeletons probably jut evolved in such a way that this conversion happens instantly (even if it takes longer for other monsters. maybe it doesn’t.) i’m not sure what happens if they try to eat non-monster food. my guess is that it works the same way -- but it only satiates hunger, not magical energy nor can it heal. so even on the surface, monsters need to continue making monster food.

             i talked about skeleton eye-lights in my last post but something i forgot to specifically say is that they don’t need their eye-lights to see. it’s more of an expressive thing anyway. the eye-lights are magic generated, not an actual biological trait. because again, they’re just eyesockets. however -- skeletons CAN close them. that’s just an odd quirk that’s different from a typical human skeleton. that and creasing their brows. 

           also, because they’re just bones, they don’t weigh much. think science classroom skeleton. however, they ARE very strong as a general rule, they can lift their own body weight which again, isn’t much, but compared to humans who have to train to be able to deadlift their own weight, it’s a natural ability for skeletons.

            in terms of social traits/quirks? i think there’s a tendency to be more reclusive? but then again, i see all monsters that way (as opposed to humans who are naturally social beings). but also, there just..... aren’t a lot of skeletons. most of them are in vertebral heights, and while sans and pap socialize, they also tend to just..... do their own things. skeletons, i think, have a history of standing apart from other monsters and so the ones that are still alive continue that trend.

             oh! i need to talk about font & voices while we’re here. again, this could be a post all on it’s own, but i’ll try to streamline it. skeletons are usually (but not always) named after fonts. these names tend to be chosen after hearing the baby vocalize (not necessarily speak, although i ALSO think that babybones speak much earlier than human babies). a skeleton’s font is like a visual manifestation of an accent. it’s not a different language (among roman alphabet fonts) but rather an inflection in the voice. skeleton voices work sort of like synesthesia, where another skeleton can see or at least sense the font that’s being spoken in. and so this is usually how they get their names. sometimes skeletons have multi-part names (first & middle & last), other times not. sometimes a family will use one generation’s last name and carry it down even for skeletons who don’t possess that particular font. i’ll do a post later on the specifics of sans’ family to give some examples. 

             the exception to this rule is skeletons who speak in symbolic fonts (wingdings, webdings, dingbat, etc). they speak in a series of vocalizations that other symbolic-speaking skeletons understand but pretty much no one else can. it sounds similar to the soundfont used for entry number 17, if less distorted (i think that what we hear there is an effect of the void, despite being written before he fell into the core). symbolic-speaking skeletons CAN learn to speak non-symbolic fonts (that usually take the form of one of the plainest fonts of either the serif or the sans serif families), but not all of them choose to (gaster did not). however, it’s INCREDIBLY difficult for a skeleton who does not possess the natural language to learn to speak it (it’s possible with training, but their voices just don’t work that way). however, learning to read/write in the fonts is an easily achievable practice, as is understand it when spoken, with time. however, most symbolic-font skeletons learn how to sign, and in return most non-symbolic font skeletons learn how to understand sign language. 

              and i think that’s it??? friends & followers, feel free to drop your skeleton biology thoughts into the replies or in my ask box! i always love hearing other people’s takes!

gay representation in Starkid shows: a giant rambly post no one asked for

I have a lot of thoughts about gay representation in Starkid musicals (I would say LGBT+ rep but there aren’t any trans characters except for debatably Chorn, who’s described as a monster, so that doesn’t really count) and I’m sure no one cares but I’m writing about how it has changed and how it differs for mlm and wlw and ye

so first off let’s establish gay characters in starkid musicals (I’ve heard that some of these are up to interpretation, but I’m basing this off the idea that most people recognize the romance-coding in these pairings) 

Quirrell/Voldemort (AVPM/AVPSY) 

Ron (AVPM/AVPS/AVPSY) 

Dumbledore (AVPM/AVPS/AVPSY) 

Scarfy/Sorty (AVPS/AVPSY) 

Seamus/Dean (AVPC) 

McDoon/Cletus (TTO) 

Zazzalil/Jemilla (Firebringer) 

Alice/Deb (TGWDLM) 

that’s 7 MLM characters dating back to 2009, 4 WLW characters dating back to 2016, and 2 that are objects (a scarf and a hat) that can’t really be assigned genders 

what I find really interesting is the difference between the way the mlm and wlw are treated. until 2016, starkid did not have any wlw characters in their musicals; however, the mlm characters that they did have were not treated well

Quirrell and Voldemort are an interesting case because it is difficult to discern if they are treated as a joke because they are gay or because nothing is taken seriously in AVPM. I think that, although they are a joke, they’re more acceptable because no couple in AVPM is treated very seriously. if the Ron/Hermione kiss scene exists, then I’m here for whatever nonsense Quirrell and Voldemort want to get up to. (but I’m not done with them- put a pin in this)

(I also have to acknowledge that their scene in AVPSY is beautiful. stunning. amazing. perfect. they are maybe starkid’s best mlm because, even though they start off as a joke, there’s their CHILD and the “okay is wonderful” line and the way Quirrell leans his head against Voldemort and smiles softly and I’m tearing up because I love them okay anYWAY)  

Ron is also odd because he is confirmed bi in AVPS, but that point is never revisited. on one hand, that’s nice because his entire life doesn’t revolve around his sexuality and it doesn’t change who he is, but on the other hand, Ron is canonically bi in the AVPM trilogy and it’s never really a thing. (again, it doesn’t Have to be a thing, but that would be lovely. also one could argue that some of his interactions with Harry are a bit like a pining bisexual, but that brings up a bunch of other issues. for one, gay-character-pines-after-straight-friend is Tired. it also enhances the idea that mlm are a joke, an idea that we will revisit again and again in this post.) 

AVPM trilogy Dumbledore is bad. what else can I say. he makes inappropriate comments to children. his sexuality and existence are a giant joke. I don’t think there’s any instance where his sexuality is not treated as a punchline. 

Scarfy and Sorty are every gay stereotype ever. Scarfy has the “””gay voice””” and they’re a rainbow, which aren’t necessarily bad, but just. Yikes. they do have some cute moments (”why do you have to be so brave”) but also... I’m not saying it’s bury your gays, but one of them does die... 

Seamus and Dean are confirmed to be married in A Very Potter Christmas (I believe). it’s a brief mention, similar to Ron, that can retroactively be applied to the AVPM trilogy, but mostly it comes off as a “haha they’re husbands it’s comedy gold” 

then there’s McDoon and Cletus. Oh boy. they’re the worst. a good way to tell if gay characters are being played as a joke because they’re gay or if it’s just a joke is to switch the gender of one person. imagine if Cletus was a woman, and then imagine all of the scenes that imply something between him and McDoon. it completely changes the meaning of them. they’re also the villains. gay villains aren’t necessarily bad; however, there is a big trend of villains being gay because it associates being bad with being gay. media influences how people view the world. if every gay person you see is a bad person, you’ll begin to think gay = bad. they’re the worst. 

a common trend of starkid mlm, such as Ron and Seamus/Dean, is that they are briefly mentioned once and then never returned to. there is nothing wrong with briefly mentioning that a character is part of the LGBT+ community without elaborating on it because that’s not the only aspect of their character. one good example of this is the gay gas attendant in solve it squad (I know we’re dipping into TCB, but I think they’re great about LGBT+ rep, or at least gay rep). he mentions his boyfriend, and it’s not a big deal, but it’s nice to hear. it’s nice to hear that Ron, Seamus, and Dean are all mlm. the issue comes in when that’s all the rep that exists. the AVPM trilogy is a special case because it has multiple mlm characters, so this rule doesn’t apply as strongly as in other cases, but it’s worth mentioning. 

the most common trend of starkid mlm is that they are played as a joke. Quirrell/Voldemort are the closest starkid gets to a loving relationship between two men. and there is nothing wrong with one gay couple being comedic. I adore QM’s songs- different as can be is a work of art. the issue stems, similar to the gay villain trope, from when it becomes a repeated trend. if gay people are always jokes, that means viewers will begin to associate being gay with being a joke. starkid mlm are never allowed to have a beautiful love story like, for example, jafar and scheherazade. the best they can hope for is a nice ending at the end of the third musical in a trilogy after their ending in the first installment was done as a joke rather than sincerely. it’s the trend of lacking a meaningful love story that’s the problem, not the individual cases. 

OKAY now onto the wlw. 

the main issue with starkid wlw is that they were nonexistent until firebringer. I hope that I’m missing something, but if I’m right, there were not any wlw for 7 years. it’s nonsense that starkid didn’t have canon wlw until then. I know there are excuses to make, like it was a different time and whatever, but it still seems weird. 

Zazzalil and Jemilla are great. they’re the main characters, there’s no doubt that they’re in love, and they sing a gay duet. beautiful. stunning. effervescent. I also think the “they weren’t built up enough” argument is interesting because I definitely get it to a point but also straight couples are never built up but they’re everywhere. let a gay couple that’s not perfectly built up end up together like straights do all the time. (also they were built up a bit, although I agree that it could have been more) 

more eloquent people than me have praised Alice and Deb before, but I’ll try. Alice is great because she has the exact conflict that a straight kid might have: her dad doesn’t approve of her significant other. Bill isn’t homophobic; he just doesn’t like Deb. when he suggests other people for Alice to date, a guy’s name doesn’t come to mind. he supports his lesbian daughter- just not her taste in women. it’s great. 

so starkid held off on wlw until they decided to do representation seriously. their wlw are treated with respect, and they’re interesting characters who are more than their sexuality. 

so why do I bring all of this up? because I think it’s interesting, but also because of Workin’ Boys, the (potentially coming) short film. 

starkid has not really moved past their joking-mlm days. I’m not saying that they’re super homophobic because they’re obviously not. But, they still do some questionable things. Hidgens is really gay-coded, and it’s a giant joke, and it makes me concerned about workin’ boys. I don’t know if there will be gay characters (although I can always hope), but if there are, I don’t know if they’ll fall into the same stereotype trap that others have fallen into. mlm exist who do fit into the stereotypical idea of a mlm; however, I think it’s important to show a variety of people, and I’m concerned that that will not happen. 

TL;DR starkid representation has been hit or miss, but it’s getting better, and I can only hope that it continues to improve.