show us the contents of you bag

26 with SAEYOUNG please 💕  from @ayane-223

26.Tending an injury

Ohhhhh  boy here we go!


You looked up at him fiercely, “ Well - SEVEN- If someone wasn’t trying to parkour off the garage, you wouldn’t have scraped your hand!”  

“BUT MC! Its was for the -content- !” he whined a smile playing on his lips

you shook your head, “ Ill show you ‘for the content’ “ as you dumped a bag of chips on his head recording it, and sending it into the messenger.  

Saeyoung jumped up, “ OH its on!” he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and as you’re laughing, “Put me down!” he threw you in a giant box of chips.

Chip bags popping and exploding and getting chips everywhere.

Vanderwood stands in the door way with an irritated look on his face. 

Saeyoung grinned, “ Hey there! Im gunna need a week off of work. I have a work related injury.” he took a deep sniff and shook his head, “ I might sue.” 

Vanderwood shook his head, “ You bastard.” 

Little Acts of Resistance

*In the hours before the Battle of Hogwarts, two alumni of the school, a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, living in Hogsmeade plan a little act of resistance of their own*

*A group of Death Eaters spot the Gryffindor sneaking away from a house*

Death Eater 1: “What are you doing out after curfew?”

Hufflepuff: *emerging from the doorway*  “Forgive the violation of curfew, please. We heard the rumors that Potter was here in Hogsmeade and that there many of the Dark Lords forces would be traveling to the castle tonight to attack.”

Death Eater 2: “You two seem to know more than is good for you…”

Hufflepuff: “Oh but sir, we only wanted to give you supplies for the coming battle, as a show of good faith.”

Death Eater 3: “As a show of cowardice and bribery more like.”

Gryffindor: “We have families to protect. Do you blame us?”

Hufflepuff: *rummages in the doorway and empties a box’s contents into a small bag* “Here. This food will give you strength for the coming battle and will ensure you are victorious, but you must only eat it right before the battle or its effects will wear off.”

Death Eater 2: *swiping the bag with a smirk* “Your contribution is most appreciated.”

Gryffindor: “Bye Bye, boys!”

Hufflepuff: “Have fun storming the castle!” *slowly moving the box behind the door and out of site. It’s label: Weasley Skiving Snackbox: Resistance Edition: 2X the strength No cures included.*

The Potato Binder! Part 1

So the Potatoes and I wanted to show you all how we keep everything organized! When creating so many Potatoes, it’s important to have a safe and organized way to keep them all together! This is a little tour on how we do just that!

So we don’t use anything fancy to keep everything organized. It’s a simple Mead Five Star zipper binder! The same kind you’d use for school, except instead of it being crammed with old home work assignments, it houses a system which keeps everything in one place for the Potatoes! 

And here they are! Each batch of Potatoes rests inside of 4x6 Photo Pages, since that’s just about as big as they get! From this point of view, you can spot everything I use to get the Potatoes drawn. I use Artwin double sided markers for the marker work, and Noor Hardtmuth Polycolor pencils! You can also spot precision scissors, Faber Castell eraser, a pencil sharpener, and Scotch double sided tape! Everything is used in the process of bringing out Potatoes! 

Oh hello Lil’Peeper! He’s gonna accompany us through the rest of the tour!

There’s a flap on the inside of the binder that houses some of the other things that we use to get things going!

Lil’Peeper here shows us the contents inside! You can spot some additional binder clips! I have a bag of bigger ones as well. These are used to help keep Peepers in place, especially in windy situations! Next to them you can see a zip bag with paper scraps. I collect these every time I create a Potato, just in case we need some additional paper in the future to create more support systems for the Peepers. Below that is the sketch book used to pop Potatoes out from the Potato realm, some sticky labels, and an extra 10 sheets of 4x6 photo pages!

The front of the binder has a convenient zipper to store a ready amount of binder clippers, both large and small! 

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the tour! 


“Love? Yeh in here?”

Harry’s voice that was undeniably eager and giddy rang throughout, going into your now-shared hotel room he guessed you’d be in from the background noise he heard from one of the re-runs of your favorite show, a smile building up on his face.

He watched you turn your head to face him, both a shocked yet contented expression prevailing once you’ve come up to him to engulf him with an embrace, taking in your scent as he squeezed you tighter.

“Missed you.”

You mumbled in between kisses that Harry himself oh-so loves and initiated, a smile each time as he giggled from what he heard as it made his stomach flutter.

God, so did I.”

He grinned, finally feeling good to be with you even if it was a two-week interval from the last time he’s seen you from being in tour.

Admittedly, he was almost not able to contain his excitement on the drive to the hotel, let alone on how many times he has pressed the button on the elevator to your floor as if it would help speed things up.

“But look what I got.”

Harry started off, lifting his finger to go ahead of you to hush your groans that were about to follow, your instinct being correct as soon as you had a glimpse of the paper bag he’s holding when he entered the room.


He shrugged, sitting you down as there’s an amused expression on his face as he’s still holding the paper bag, his eyebrows raised that made him look even more interested.

“Come on, it’s just some little things.”

Little? You call these little?”

Harry laughed, pinching the spot in between his eyebrows as he’s genuinely happy from your reaction, infatuated with the fact that you’re the one who’s in it for him and not the financial aspects he has, a smile on his face upon seeing your cheeks turn red as you motioned to the multiple and designer paper bags he carried.

“Wanna watch you open them.”

He smiled cheekily, his dimples popping out and a look that only the both of you knew he carried when he’s being extremely playful, a scold coming from your lips as you blushingly emptied the contents from the bags.

It was when you all layed them out that showed the variety of lingerie, loungewear, dresses and casual wear and anything Harry could’ve thought of along the way, laughing for dear life as you scanned for the prices on the tags yet with his request, they were all snipped off when he bought them.

“Then how am I supposed to repay you the money you used for these when I don’t even know?”

You huffed, your arms crossing across your chest as you alternated your gaze between Harry and the articles of clothing laid out in between the two of you.

He was the one to roll his eyes jokingly as he’s awed by the fact that you’re still down-to-earth despite the present circumstances, his lips pursing as he knows what he’ll next say would receive a grin he dearly loves and the reaction that would make him lift your head up from beinf buried into the pillow.

“Hush, it’s priceless for what I have in front of me anyways.”

The NASA Village

Today in the NASA Village… Space Station to Ground.

Working aboard the Space Station for long duration is definitely a challenge, but being connected with my family keeps me motivated. Psychological and emotional support is extremely important in space. When crew members go from the Earth’s surface to a new environment, it’s not a surprise that we still need to communicate with our loved ones. After all, we are still Earth creatures.

So who takes on this huge responsibility to keep me connected to my family? Meet Gabrielle Cole, one of the Operational Psychology Coordinators at Behavioral Health & Performance (BHP). She is constantly in touch with my husband in Houston and my parents in Iowa in order to arrange Private Family Conferences (PFCs) with me on the Space Station. Every week she goes through my schedule and my family’s in order to find the best time that suits both parties. Typically, weekends works out the best, but in some cases we do change it around. There’s a hard scheduled video-conference once a week, and also on special occasions such as holidays, anniversaries and birthdays. Essentially, Gabrielle always has to be prepared to take on any task necessary to help me maintain life as normal as possible here on the Space Station. 

In addition, Gabrielle also packs my care packages, which are very important for us on the Space Station. She inventories the items given by my family and friends, and submits them to the Materials and Process team. The Materials and Process team makes sure the items are not flammable and are safe for the Space Station. After the items get approved, Gabrielle packs them for transport. When I receive my care packages, usually it is filled with items such as cards, letters, photos, and snacks. Thanks to Gabrielle, I am always pleased with everything that’s in my goodie bag!

While on the Space Station, we are required to exercise 2 hours daily. What do you usually do when you are working out? Well, Gabrielle makes sure that I have a variety of good music to listen to while I am on my daily routine. Using my personal interests profile that I filled out when I was on ground, Gabrielle uploads music, TV Shows, news, movies, magazines, web articles, and even personal videos from family and friends to the ISS Crew Webpage. The ISS Crew Webpage serves as a gateway to up-to-date content that I am able to get in touch with as soon as she uploads it.

Of course, all of this is a lot of responsibility for one person, but when you ask Gabrielle, she says that, “I don’t feel like my job is always work. I am honored to have the opportunity to contribute to space exploration and help the crew members feel at home even when they are so far away.”

Do you want more stories?  Find our NASA Villagers here!

What’s in my Sim’s bag? Bernadette’s bag

Rules: Choose a Sim of yours, post a picture of their bag content and tag 10 of your friends/followers/favorite Simblrs! Please tag #inmysimsbag. :)
It can be done with any Sims game.
(You can do it as many times as you want)

I tag: @memoirsofasim, @hbcu-black-girl, @madmono, @simlishdistractions, @retromaisie, @nocturnalazure, @barleycoffee, @pottery-sims, @my-simension, @pixelplxm

Ignore if you don’t want to do it, but please, if you feel like doing it, do  it even if you’re not tagged! :)))
(Sorry if you’ve been tagged already for this; I try to follow the #inmysimsbag tag, but I know Tumblr keeps hiding posts because I saw posts on my dash that weren’t on the Search page, though correctly tagged!!! *sobs*)

Keep reading

Decisions, Decisions (Part 2)

Prompt: Imagine Tom Hiddleston has a crush on you and he is feeling jealous of James McAvoy on “The Graham Norton Show” because James talks about how great the chemistry was between you, his co-star, and him in your latest film.

Warnings: language, sexual content, adult content…?

Word Count: 4422

Note: Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ - This fic would NOT be possible without you, and @amarvelouswritings​ - who let me badger the hell out of her. Thank you both a million! Used @theartofimagining13​ imagine

Also, some of the timelines are going to be off in this, to make stuff fit, and James’ wife and child are nonexistent - nothing against them, just easier to write if he didn’t have an ex wife and child.Text messages are in italics.

Tags: @wordacadabra @frenchfrostpudding @lisssays


“Good job, baby,” you said, walking over and putting your arm on James’ shoulder. You turned and licked his ear. “That’s perfect. God, I’m so hot right now,” you said as you turned into him and began kissing him as his eyes never left the body, bloody and mangled before you as you dropped the axe.

“Cut!” the director, Ed, yelled.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, worried you’d messed up your lines.

“Nothing much. Y/N, let’s take out the ear licking thing. It’s not doing what I thought it would. Take it from the top, right after Ruby collapses here, and ACTION.”

You ran the scene three more times then they stopped for a break and get the next scene set up. You went to your trailer and tried to go over your next few lines when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” you said, wondering who it could be.

The door opened and James appeared. You did your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Working with him was one thing, you could turn these feelings off, easy, it was professional, but as soon as he was James again and you were you again, the feelings came roaring back full force. “Hi, I got you a water.” He handed you the bottle and came in.

“Oh, thanks,” you said, smiling.

“You were really terrific to me.”

“What? Me?” you gasped, honestly surprised. “No…no.” You shook your head. It was odd, being an A list celebrity but yet still not feeling confident in your work. You honestly weren’t sure how or why you got these amazing gigs.

“No, you do really great. I think you’ve got the role of Alexa down.”

“Well thank you, I’m always so worried that I’m not saying it convincingly enough or I’m being too dramatic or…”

“You shouldn’t worry about that. I think you’re doing brilliantly.”

“Well that means a lot coming from you,” you informed with a smile as you looked at him.

“Sure. Yeah, not every moment is going to be golden. Trust me. This one time, when we were filming Wanted, you know the scene where I hit Chris in the face with a keyboard?” he asked, a sparkle coming into his clear blue eyes.

You grinned at the memory of that movie, that scene was actually one of your favorite scenes in any movie. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I accidentally actually hit him with that keyboard,” he said with his eyebrows raised as he laughed.

“Oh my god, no you didn’t!” you gushed, shoving him back playfully as you laughed. “Was he okay?”

He laughed that contagious, gorgeous laugh of his. “I think so. He took the hit pretty well. He laughed about it. My mark was off really bad.”

“I’ll say! Oh my gosh. I’ve never done anything that bad. But I did, okay, full disclosure, my first on-screen kiss wasn’t as steamy as that one we had earlier.”

“Oh?” he asked, intrigued as he sat back, his face resting against his fist as he gazed at you, utterly captivated in this story. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious.

“Yeah, so it was with Channing Tatum, and oh my gosh was he sweet about it,” you explained. “But, it was during a beach scene, for the ‘first kiss’ scene, and I leaned in too fast and we slammed our mouths together. He had a busted lip and my teeth cut the inside of my lip,” you informed, laughing as you covered your mouth.

“Wow. And I thought I was bad. That’s….wow that is really awful,” he said, chuckling, his accent getting thicker, making you more than attracted to him.

“Well thanks,” you sarcastically teased.

“Well just take solace in the fact that you’ve gotten better.”

Blushing, you responded, “Thanks.”

James bit his lip, something he did often when he was waiting to say something. He eyed you for a moment before asking, “Would you like to get drinks later?”

You weren’t sure why you were asking but you asked, “Why?” In your head you were screaming, “Why didn’t you just say yes?”

“I thought it’d be nice to get to know each other better, off set?” he tried, peering at you.

“Sure. Yeah, I’d like that,” you answered before swallowing. You nodded at him just as a knock came at the trailer door, they were ready for the next scene, so it was time to go to makeup.

“We better get back out there,” he said as he patted your leg and got up.


James escorted you to to a very upscale lounge, it was dark and quiet and perfect. You went to a small table in the corner and ordered your drinks.

“Gin and tonic,” you said.

“Scotch,” he said with a smile that could knock the wind out of a blimp.

“Keeping it traditional?” you teased.

“Someone has to,” he reminded.

“So, since we’re on the topic of heritages, where are you from?”

“I’m from a midsize town in Oklahoma.”

“That’s the one with all the cows, right?” he asked.

“Shut up,” you joked, your nose scrunching as you looked at him. “It’s not all farmland, you know?”

“Are you sure? Because I’ve been there and…” He stretched his eyes back, gesturing that it was a bit country.

“Hey, hey. Two can play that game, is it nothing but kilts and sea monsters in Scotland?”

His brows perked up as he made a shocked face. “Well, well the claws have come out. I’ll have you know that kilts are manly, dammit. I have worn mine to the grocery store before, believe it or not.”

“Oh yeah?’

‘Yes,” he said firmly, playfully asserting his confidence.

“Well I’ll have you know that we don’t all have cattle in Oklahoma. My father is one of the highest paid attorney’s in the state and my mom is a bioengineer.”

James sat and looked at you, curious now. “Then how is it, little ole Y/N ended up in LA as a big movie star?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I was in college, toward the beginning of senior year, and I was just doing theater club for fun and it dawned on me that I was enjoying doing the plays more than I was for my classes.”

“What was your major?” he questioned.

“English. It’s relatively universal, but I realized I was hating what I was doing so…”

“So you dropped out?”

“No, no. I had come that far, I had to see it through. I graduated and then came out here.”

“And your parents, did they approve?”

“Not at first. But I think they were mainly worried about my safety.”

“Sure, yeah.”

“But then they came around to the idea, helped me find a safe place to live, and I was free to do auditions. I also promised myself if I didn’t get any decent roles for five years, I’d leave.”

“And when did you get your first decent role?”

“Within the first six months, Tale of the Dragon was my first serious role.”

“Yeah? I loved that movie, you were badass in that,” he commended, nodding at you.

“Well thank you. I can’t curve a bullet though,” you said with a grin and a wink. A wink? You just winked at James McAvoy, are you nuts?

He laughed at the mention of his movie and raised his glass to you.

“Well I’m glad you came out.”

“Me too,” you agreed, trying to ignore the feelings that erupted with the way he said that. “So you? Why did you become an actor?”

“I liked the idea of being different things. It felt…wrong, going through life as the same person. Getting to try on other skins for a while is refreshing.”

“I hear that, being someone else is a lot easier than being yourself,” you said before you realized what you had said.

In that moment, James saw the real you. He realized that you put on a little bit of a show for the public, the cameras. The extra confident, extra flirty you was the public you, this shy, quiet you was the real Oklahoma girl. To be honest, he quite liked both.

James checked his phone for the time and bit his lip again, sending butterflies all throughout your chest.

You were taking a sip of your drink, worrying you were boring him to death. This was worldly, well established James McAvoy and you were just a girl from Oklahoma with one or two blockbusters under your belt but that was all.

“How would you like to do this again? But this time make it a real date?” he asked suddenly, his ocean blue eyes searching yours.

You couldn’t help the thing that happened next - you choked on your drink and accidentally spit it out on the table. Did he just ask you out on a fucking date? Drinks was one thing. You were pretty sure that this was just to get to know each other better as friends. For four months you’d work on the film together and barely knew each other because your scenes were so intense you did a lot of practicing the scenes, not socializing.

James leaned over, handed you a napkin, and slightly chuckled. “Are you alright?”

You coughed a few more times and ended up laughing. While it was mortifying, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now except blush and laugh. This was your key to confidence, you had to learn to laugh off the blunders.

“Yeah, no, just went down the wrong pipe. What did you say?”

“I said, would you want to go on a date with me?”

And there went the butterflies again as your stomach jumped to your throat and your heart sped up to a million miles per hour. This was real. He was really asking you. A man you’ve had a crush on forever was asking you out. Your co star. You knew how dangerous it could be dating a costar but you didn’t care.

“Oh, yes, of course. When?” you blurted out. Shit. Your date with Tom was tomorrow night.

“When are you free next?”

“Saturday night,” you informed, your blush not receding as your heart continued to hammer inside your chest.

“Sounds perfect. I’ll pick you up. Text me your address.”

You two agreed it was late and James grabbed the check as he got you a cab back to your place. The entire ride back you were swimming in a sea of euphoria. You had been keen on James for quite some time now but that kiss on the show the other day really transferred your feelings from a passive crush to finding yourself getting butterflies whenever you were around him, almost school-girl like.

But what about Tom? You had forgotten just how much fun you two had on set and how much you two had in common. Being an English major, you two shared quite a bit in the department of Shakespeare, ancient philosophers, and quite a few of the British literature. You had the same sort of humor and loved to dance. He was the perfect gentlemen and great advocate. He was willing to try new things and unwaveringly nice. But you never got the butterflies with Tom, the way you do with James.

But James was hysterically funny and overtly sweet as well. His wit usually had you in stitches and his charm was undeniable and you loved to watch him interact with fans. On the flipside, you haven’t had the luxury of a lot of quality time with James as you have with Tom.

They were both handsome as sin and could make a suit a walking sex object. The more you thought about it, the harder it became to decipher who you felt more of a draw to. You blew out a breath, wondering just what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into.


The shoot went exceptionally well and everyone went home early. You raced home to get ready for your date with Tom as you talked to Ida, to try and help calm your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d be this nervous for a date with your friend but the more you thought about him, the more he seemed like a real date.

“You have to tell me everything that happens, do you hear me? Everything. I want every detail,” Ida demanded through your phone.

You were busy curling your hair as you made a funny face in the giant mirror in your upscale bathroom.

“Every detail?” you questioned incredulously before you two laughed.

“So what are you going to do about James then?” she questioned.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you’re with Tom…so that can’t leave a lot of time for James…” she insinuated.

You laughed. “I’m not ‘with’ Tom, this is the first date, who knows if we’ll even hit it off.”

“You hit it off as friends,” she reminded.

“Right,” you agreed, curling another piece of your hair. “As friends. There may be no chemistry there. Besides, I’ve already got a date with James,” you mentioned casually.

“What?!” Ida shrieked, making you jump away from the phone laying on the bathroom counter. “Both guys. You’re dating both men. You’re dating two of the most eligible bachelors in Hollywood and you didn’t think to tell your best friend?”

“I’ve been busy with Juxtaposition,” you reminded gently.

“Apparently not too busy,” she teased with innuendo.

“Har-har,” you said back. “What’s so wrong with dating, huh? Playing the field. Scarlett does it.”

“Johanson? Yeah, true.”

“All the guys get to do it, I say it’s time for us women to have the same fun. Come on, Ida, I’m young, pretty, and available. Why should I tie myself down to either one?”

She was silent for a moment, probably trying to come up with a good argument.

“If it were you, would you do it any different?”

“No,” she admitted.


“Well, go get ‘em, tiger,” she encouraged. “What are you wearing? Where are you going?”

“I’m wearing my purple chiffon dress. I don’t know where we are going. Knowing Tom, somewhere incredibly outrageous in price.”

“You mean the one with the slit?”

You nodded at your reflection as you started on your makeup.

“The one that has a slit up to my hip? Yep, that’s the one,” you informed.

“Oh my gosh, that’ll turn some heads! Isn’t that a little racy for the first date?” she inquired.

Laughing, you responded, “It’s all about first impressions.”

“I’m pretty sure I know his first impression, it’ll be below the waist.”

“Hey, as long as it’s a response,” you teased. “Hey, I’m going to finish getting ready and I’ll call you back after the date.”

“You better! Have fun!”

“Bye, sweetie.”

“Bye, sweetheart.”

You hung up and noticed you had a text. It was from James.

Hope you have a good Friday night. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow :)

Your heart soared as you sent back a reply.

Thanks! You too. See you tomorrow.

Immediately after that you received a text from Tom stating he was ten minutes away. You texted him and told him to come right in and sit in the living room as you finished getting ready.

You made a couple of adjustments to your hair, added a bit more dark eyeshadow, ran into your bedroom and pulled on your dress and found a pair of black, bejeweled satin heels to match. You strapped the heels in and eyed your reflection, loving every bit of it. You grabbed your clutch and managed to make it out of the house to meet Tom in the driveway, noticing he wore a nice navy blue suit with light blue shirt and patterned tie. He looked every bit the part of a celebrity.

“You brought a Jag?” you said, eyeing the car as he was stepping up.

“Yeah, they gave me one from the commercials so I figured why not. Do you like it?” he asked.

“I’m more of an Aston Martin gal,” you teased. “No, it’s beautiful.” You smiled as you walked to the passenger side and he jogged to come and open the door for you. You blushed a tad and sat in the lovely leather, noticing him eyeing you. He went around the other side, got in, and started it, the low roar coming from the car exciting you.

“You look stunning,” he complimented.

“Thank you, Tom. You look dashing, as always.”

“Yeah the only time I’m not in a suit is during some of my movies, it’s a bit of a relief.”

“Speak for yourself,” you said as he started to pull away. “I live in dresses all the time and I couldn’t be happier.”

He laughed his signature laugh and you smiled at him as he drove. The way the car whipped around the curves of Los Angeles rodes was the perfect combination of relaxation and excitement, you’d always had a thing for fast cars, and now you could actually afford cars like this that were luxurious and fast - the perfect concoction of happiness for you.

Just as you thought, Tom brought you to a high priced restaurant, French to be exact. You surmised he was probably going to dust off some of his French to order. Thank goodness because your French was nowhere near as good as his. You ordered and then he started conversation.

“So, how have things been?”

“Hecktic,” you admitted. “I just got offered another role last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Are you going to take it?” he asked, intrigued.

You shrugged and bobbed your head side to side. “I’m not sure. It’s a rom-com and…eh.”

“You never were one for traditional roles,” he commented.

“Well, I don’t want to be stuck in those roles. I’m a pretty face and I think they want to see that but I’m having too much fun in the weird roles right now.”

“So turn it down,” he offered simply, his brows coming together slightly.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve got several successes under your belt. I don’t think I can afford to shoot it down.”

He nodded, his hands resting against his lips as he kept his elbows on the table.

“I see. So try it out. That way you can say you tried it, and who knows, you might like it.”

“True. I’ll probably accept. So any word on the James Bond front?” you questioned. You knew he got pelted with this all the time because of his entire aesthetic  - british, luxury car spokesman, always in a suit. He got annoyed with interviewers because they were just out for the tabloids and a blurb about a possible movie, but for his friends he knew it was commonplace shop talk.

“Nothing yet, and I don’t know if I’d want that role, like you, I’m a little afraid I’d get stuck in that. The british spy theme, maybe later on down the line,” he confessed before he sipped some water.

“Ah see, so I’m not the only one who’s afraid,” you teased.

“It would seem that way. Are you still reading your literature? Keeping up with it?”

You thought for a moment, in a way you felt guilty. “No, not really. I haven’t touched anything but a script since I moved out here four years ago.”

He paused a second as the awkward silence settled between you two. “Ah, well any new experiences? I know last time we worked together you hadn’t been to a few places or seen some things, what about now?”

“Oh! Yes, I went to a kangaroo reservation in Australia, that was pretty amazing. I also went kayaking in Africa. Oh, I went with Ryan Reynolds to Mexico for a small part in his new film. Never trust that man,” you informed, laughing. “Oh and in Hawaii they taught me how to spin fire. I singed my arm hair a lot but it was worth it!”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Well it sounds like you’re living it up. Good for you.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to. What about you? I know you’re not one to turn down an adventure. What’s the great Hiddles up to?”

“Ugh, not much but traveling. It’s a promo here, a premiere there, an interview here, a signing there, a con next. It’s a whirlwind. But I did manage to surf.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, excited. “I can’t surf. Was it fun?” You sipped your drink as you realized this was almost too friendly. None of this felt like a date. It felt just like the other night of catching up. Why did drinks with James feel more intimate and romantic than this? Perhaps it was the fact that any time there was a silence between you and James you wanted to close the gap and just kiss him, or jump his bones, whichever worked.

“It was fun until I realized the instructor had given me a push because I couldn’t paddle,” he informed, followed by his laugh that always made you smile.

You laughed at this information. “Oh my god. You poor thing!” you said, still laughing.

“Yeah, not the greatest ego booster,” he admitted.

Then conversation fell short for a moment before they brought the food out.

“Plan on taking a break any time soon?” you asked, since Tom hadn’t had a break in about five years.

“No, not really. I don’t see a point to stop when I’m on a roll. What about you?”

“Absolutely not. I’m pushing through everything I can.”

“Are you keeping busy?”

“Yeah as soon as this one with James is done, I’m getting a ten episode contract for a show. I’m auditioning for a dark musical in a few weeks so…we’ll see. I plan on just loading my plate up.”

“That’s the best way,” he agreed.

The rest of dinner was pretty much talk about work. You split the bill and he drove you home, the quiet wasn’t as awkward as before but rather comfortable.

Tom opened your door and you got out of the sleek black car as he helped you out.

“I was wondering if you would like to go to the Kong premier with me?” he offered, as your elbows rested in his hands. This was the first time you’d been this close and not on a movie set. “I know we didn’t have the grandest of first dates, but I’d like to try it again.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Excellent. It’ll be on the 30th.”

“Great. See you then.”

Tom started to incline his head and it suddenly registered that it was time to kiss him. Why couldn’t you get out of your own head? Kissing him after a date should be natural? So why did this feel pushed? This felt even less natural than when you kissed for Eternal Lovers. Forcing yourself out of your weird headspace you tried to sink into a kiss. You tilted your head the other way as your eyes locked, the moment starting to happen. A tiny smirk was on the corner of his lips as he leaned in a bit more, closing the gap. Your lips touched and it felt…nice. He was clearly an expert at kissing, and you weren’t so bad yourself. You were about to lose yourself in the kiss, really give into it, when he broke away.

“Good night,” he said quietly, his enchanting eyes searching yours, for what, you weren’t sure. Was he aware of the disconnect? Maybe it was just getting out of this headspace that he was merely a friend.

“Night,” you said barely above a whisper as you walked away into your house.

You immediately called Ida.

“Hey,” you said, pulling off your heels.

“Hey! How did it go! The fact that it’s only 11 and you’re calling me makes me think you didn’t fulfill my fantasy,” she said with sadness.

“Nope, not tonight I’m afraid.”

“You know I want to live vicariously through you, right? You have to make this happen.”

You laughed at her as you massaged your feet. “I’m trying. So dinner was nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Yeah, we caught up and stuff. It was good.”


She knew you so well. You smiled at yourself, wishing she was next to you, but she was in Seattle.

“But it felt like I was talking to just a friend. Then we kissed.”

“And?!” she all but squealed at you.

“And…it was fine,” you said simply, shrugging as you paced around your expansive bedroom, one wall made entirely of glass, looking out over Hollywood.

“Fine? Just fine?” she challenged in a flat tone. “Kissing Tom Hiddleston was just…fine?”

“I don’t know, Ida. He just…He’s a great kisser, that wasn’t the problem. It was the spark. That spark was missing. The one I got when I kissed James on the show.”

“But I thought that was just for show?” she questioned, perplexed.

“It was, but I think something else happened between it. It went from the typical, usual staged shit to something more.”

“Well…did you set up another date or…?”

“Yeah he invited me to be his date at the Kong premiere,” you explained, watching the city twinkle beneath you.

“Wow. I know you’re going to go get a new ensemble for that,” she teased with a beautiful laugh.

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it and smiled. “You know me.”

“Maybe tonight was just first date jitters for both of you, don’t write him off yet, for both our sakes.”

You gave a half hearted smile and agreed. “Okay.”

“Alright, well, I gotta go. I’m meeting with Rolling Stone tomorrow.”

“Goodluck. Goodnight.”


You hung up and flopped on the bed, noticing a text from James and Tom. You read Tom’s first.

Had a wonderful time tonight, thank you for accompanying me. Have a good time shooting. I’ll see you in two weeks, we’ll make a night of it.

Me too. Thank you for a wonderful dinner. I can’t wait for the premiere, thank you for asking.”

Then you switched to James’ text.

Sorry to bother you again, just wanted to wish you a goodnight.”

A smile spread across your face without your permission.

You can bother me all you want,” you texted back, biting your lip at the honesty. It was true. James could blow up your phone for all you cared. To him it would probably seem flirty but it was just the truth. “Goodnight, James.

anonymous asked:

Can I get UT, UF Sans + US, SF Papyrus reacting to a close friend texting them and asking if they've eaten dinner, the skelly hasn't eaten in a while and replies with something like "nah, i'm already too fat/i'm tryna lose the weight of my problems" and the friend never replies back. Five minutes later the door to their house bursts open and the friend is there with bags of food and aggressively yells "I SPRINTED THROUGH MULTIPLE BLOCKS AND YOU'RE GONNA F'KIN EAT, YA HEAR ME!?"

Okay so sorry for all the texting in this, but I can’t explain how much I love domestic texting between friends. This turned into small drabbles btw and sorry if they didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to, I got carried away. 

I also put a keep reading on this, I think I’m going to start doing that on the very long posts. Tell me if it doesn’t work on mobile and I’ll remove it or try and work around it.

UT!Sans: -When he gets the first message he just thinks you’re looking to invite him out for some grub, but he’s honestly not feeling like heading to Grillby’s right now. Still, he doesn’t see any reason to lie to you. So he sends a quick message back.

5:21 pm - nah, but my bones are big enough already. dont need extra weight on them.

He waits for a few minutes. Nothing happens. Did you just forget to reply back? It says that you read it… He figures that you probably just forgot though, or you headed out for dinner by yourself. He’s content with this reasoning as he turns back to the TV, sinking deep into the couch cushions. He gets two more minutes of TV watching before the front door is slammed open, and for a second he’s sure that Undyne is here, until you step into his line of vision. Your face is red and you’re trying to catch your breath. You also have a slight manic look on your face that is making him question if it’d be wise to ask why you’re here.

‘’Um… Y/N?’’ he says trying to make sense of your messy form.

You’re still panting as you set two delicious smelling bags on the coffee table in front of him. You bend over and put your hands on your knees, breathing almost normally now.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ he asks again.

You look up at him, takes a deep breath while you straighten yourself and then from nowhere you yell at him.


Normally he’d say a joke, or argue just for the fun of it. But your eyes are showing genuine concern, and you did go out of your way to make sure he’d eat. So instead he moves over on the couch and pats the seat next to him.

‘’Jeez, kid. Talk about home delivery,’’ he laughs while looking away from you.

You make your way over to him and plop down on the couch with a sigh. Leaning back and stretching out your limbs you make a grabby gesture for the bags, which are still sitting on the table. He smiles wryly and gestures with his hand making the bags float towards you. You grab one of them with a contented smile and then rips it open, digging in on whatever is inside. Handing him the left over ketchup packets, which he stores in his pocket for later use. He does the same and you both turn to face the TV. When you’ve finished the meals, you both sit in a comfortable silence. Enjoying each other’s presence while watching one stupid show after the other.

He can’t help but feel like this is the kind of friendship he’s always wanted.

UF!Sans: - An annoying electronic chime woke him up from his sleep. He grunted and fumbled around in complete darkness until his hand felt something hard on his bed. Reaching out he grabbed ahold of his phone and tried to find the home screen button. He winced when the bright light blinded him, trying to cover his eye sockets. Swearing, he turned the brightness down and opened his new text message. Your contact named showed up as the phone loaded your recent conversation, you’d sent him a couple of texts while he’d been asleep and he read through them carefully.

6:34 pm - Yo Red, what’d you eat for dinner today?

6:44 pm - RED

6:46 pm - Red answer me I need to know

6:47 pm - Did you fall asleep again?

6:58 pm - Okay that’s it, I’m coming over and I’m bringing food. You better be up and ready or I am dragging your bony butt out of bed

Wait you were doing what? He looked at the time. 7:00 pm. Shit you’d be here soon. He threw himself off the bed, but his legs got tangled in the bed sheets and instead of standing up, he fell on the floor face first. Grunting he tried to get up, when he heard someone knock on the front door. Panicking he flailed around even more, managing to get the sheets stuck between his fibula and tibula. He stood up on one leg, and hopped around while trying to untangle himself from his prison of bedsheets and blankets. Just as he was standing there bent forward and hopping on one leg, the door opened. He looked up like a deer in headlights and saw you standing in his door opening. Flushed face, panting and desperately trying to hold back a grin.

‘’The fuck you lookin’ at,’’ he grunted as he once again fought to get free.

‘’Oh nothing-’’ you said, leaning against the doorframe -’’just enjoying the performance.’’

He muttered something that sounded like a quiet fuck you, and then finally got his leg free and stood up straight. Stretching, he managed to pop his back in a few places and he grunted in satisfaction. He walked past you and into his living room. Turning to look as you followed him out.

‘’Did ya bring food?’’ he asked.

‘’Yes,’’ you replied simply. ‘’And you are going to eat it’’

‘’I don’t need any more food, I’m heavy enough as it is.’’

You turned around and gave him a dangerously calm look.

‘’I just sprinted through a lot of blocks to get you this food,’’ you said walking closer to him. ‘’And you are going to eat every. last. fucking. bit. You hear me?’’ Your voice was low and almost threatening, and your eyes gleamed of determination.

He never thought that he’d call his small human friend scary, but that look you were giving him chilled him to the bones. And the smell of the food broke his will down, you bought him food for hells sake. He wasn’t about to turn that down.

‘’Fine,’’ he muttered and sat down on the couch.

You smiled and joined him, tossing him one of the bags while opening your own. You ate in silence, the only sounds coming from the TV playing in front of you both. It wasn’t until you had both finished your food and was sat quietly watching the show that a thought entered his head. He never gave you a key to his flat…

‘’How the hell did you get in here??’’

US!Papyrus: Papyrus sucks at looking after himself. And he never pays attention to when he should be sleeping or eating. Meaning that when he’s up playing video games in the middle of the night, it’s safe to presume that he has not been eating anything other than a few snacks for the past hours. This night was one of those nights.

He just never bothered to keep track of time.

He did know that it was late, though. Way too late for anyone to be texting him. Which is why he jumped when his phone went off next to him on the floor.

He glanced at it quickly but then looked back at the TV, doing his best not to die before the event had been completed. About five seconds from pulling through, someone shot him from behind and he fought the urge to yell in frustration as his characters sank down on the ground. He flopped backwards with a sigh and lifted his phone to read the message. Smiling slightly when he saw your name on the screen.

12:54 am - Heyyy you up?

Were you drunk or bored? Scientists can’t tell he thought and snorted at his own joke. He typed out a lazy text and waited a few seconds on your reply.

1:01 am - yea im up

1:02 am - Can’t sleep?

1:02 am - wasnt tryin, you?

1:03 am - Me neither, what’d you eat today?

1:04 am - I dont think i ate anything tbh, why

No reply. Did you fall asleep or just ditch him? He should probably go to bed then. But he can’t be bothered to get off the floor. And he’s not feeling tired enough to fall asleep where he is. Maybe he should just stay there for a while. Meditate or something.

His phone chimed again and he unlocked it as he lifted it to his face

1:09 am - Open your door

1:10 am - what ?

1:10 am - I am outside your house, open the front door or I’m climbing through your window

There was no way you were outside his house. And he didn’t feel like getting up and walking into the prank willingly

1:11 am - i call bluff on this

He waited for your comeback, where you’d desperately try and get him to go out and check the front of his house. But he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t about to let you own him like that, he’s not stupid.

A knock on the window made him jump and scramble to his feet. You sat on the roof under his window in a crouch. When you saw that you had grabbed his attention you started frantically gesturing for the lock. He stared at you for a while, to your obvious irritation, until he walked forwards and opened the window. You jumped in and opened your backpack on the floor, pulling out two bags of take out food. You checked the content of them both, and then handed him one while you started eating from yours. He took it from you but continued staring at you.

‘’Are you going to open it?’’ you asked with your mouth full of food.

‘’It’s the middle of the night,’’ he said. ‘’What are you doing here?’’

‘’I wanted take out food. And I wanted to eat it with you. And since you’re so stupid that you can’t even get your own food, I decided to bring it to you,’’ you said simply, still munching away on your food.

He sat down in front of you, but still didn’t touch his bag. You looked up at him, and this time you looked even more irritated then before.

‘’Listen dude, I worked hard for that food, so you better fucking eat it,’’ you said in an angry voice.

‘’Listen dude,’’ he said mimicking your voice. ‘’I’m trying to loose the weight of my problems here.’’ He tried giving you the food back.

Your eyes widened a little, and your face softened. You leaned forward and pushed the bag back into his hands.

‘’Please eat, Papy,’’ you said in a much softer voice, your eyes almost pleading.

Deciding to give up he sat beside you and picked at the contents of his bag. For take out food, it looked surprisingly non greasy. Still good though. He picked it up and started eating, while reaching for his TV remote to put on some night tv. You ate in silence for a while, until you stood up and flopped down on his bed. He did the same and crawled over you so he was laying facing the wall. Saying your goodnights, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

He woke up the next day to an empty bed and an open window.

SF!Papyrus: When Rus gets in a low mood, taking care of himself doesn’t seem all that important. He’s not lazy, really. More apathetic. Doing chores and errands for his brother and superior keeps his mind busy and his hands occupied, letting him get through the day a little easier. But when he’s alone at night, everything becomes a little harder. And self care turns into a chore he’s not motivated enough to do.

He’d rather just wrap himself in a blanket and quietly suffer in silence, waiting it out. Hoping to feel a little better soon.


He’s drifted off to sleep without even noticing, dreamless and exhausted despite it not even being 5 pm yet. When he slowly drifts back to conscousness he feels like he could sleep for a week more. But something woke him up, and he should probably see what that was.

His phone lights up with a soft ding. Showing two text notification and several others from social media. Grunting softly, he flipped over and reached out for it. Fumbling before his fingers got a good grip. He brought the phone closer to him, trying to unlock it while rubbing the sleep off his face. He got the passcode wrong three times before he managed to steady his hand enough to tap it in. Insisting on doing it with his thumb instead of holding the thing with both hands.

Your name shows up on the screen, along with the many emojis you’d used when you added yourself as a contact on his phone. He feels like smiling at the thought, but he’s too tired to move his face. So he starts reading the messages you sent him instead.

5:07 pm - Hey Papyrus

5:07 pm - What’d you have for dinner today?

He wants to type out some made up bullshit and go back to sleep. But you don’t deserve lies when you’re showing concern. This thought actually makes him smile, you’re so sweet.

5:10 pm - Haven’t eaten yet

Good, that wasn’t a lie. But he still wouldn’t worry you enough for you to take action. Meaning he could go back to sleep again.

5:10 pm - Papyrus you have to eat!!!!

Or not…

5:11 pm - I’m on a diet, it’s called ‘’how to loose the weight of your problems by not eating’’

That probably wasn’t the smartest thing to send you he thought. Shit he didn’t want to worry you before, why would he send you that. Like this wasn’t going to make you worry. God that was so stupid.

His phone made another sound, you’d sent him another message.

5:13 pm - Ok that’s it

Wait what

5:13 pm - what

What the hell were you doing? He flopped down onto the bed and put a hand over his eye sockets. Whatever it was he’d started now, he wasn’t feeling up for it. He honestly just wanted to go back to sleep. But instead he waited for your message, where you would explain what was going on. It never came. And eventually he felt his eyes slowly start creeping together. And his hand slid away from his face, coming to a rest on his pillow as he turned his body sideway. A minute later and he was sound asleep, snoring softly while curled around himself.

A sound woke him up, much louder than the first time. He sat up as he heard footsteps approaching. Expecting it to be his brother, he started to frantically straighten his clothing, intending to appear as if he hadn’t been asleep for the last god knows how long.

The footsteps were even closer now.

Suddenly his door flew open, slamming into his wall and most likely leaving a mark in the drywall. You stormed in, closed the door just as hard as you’d pushed it open, and then stormed over to him.

‘’I-’’ you started while still marching towards him-’’just ran like a hundred blocks to get you this food, so you are going to eat every last bit!’’ Your voice was loud and you sounded close to angry.

He blinked at you for a few seconds. ‘’I didn’t need food,’’ he said finally. His quiet voice a contrast to your own.

‘’I don’t care,’’ you answered. ‘’Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten all day. And even if you have, you’re still eating dinner. Now move over and make some room for me’’

You hopped up in his bed before he got a chance to follow orders. And then you threw one of the bags in his direction, before you opened your own. He caught his bag midair and held it in his hands for a few moments. Then he resigned. Leaning over he grabbed his laptop and set it up on his nightstand, putting on his recently watched show on netflix. He figured that he’d have to right to choose the entertainment after you practically broke into his apartment. Besides, he knew that you had seen the show already.

You both ate in a comfortable silence, caught up in the show. Every now and then, he would glance back at you. Study you. He knew humans could be loyal, a trait that had mostly been lost by monsters. And he didn’t doubt that your concerns were genuine. But in his quiet curiosity one question always came back to him.

Why did you care so much?

Makeup Senpai

A/N: Hello, everyone! So, this fic is dedicated to the amazing @topbananapuff , who always endures my Iwashimizu wearing makeup headcannons and said ‘wtf bro Ebumi wears it, too.’ Enjoy

Summary: Iwashimizu loves wearing makeup, but he needs a little help. Good thing Ebumi’s around.

Iwashimizu stood awkwardly by his locker, hands clasped together and eyes downcast. Most of the team had already headed home for the day, eager to take real showers and eat at home. However, Iwashimizu couldn’t leave yet. He had a mission to complete.

If he could muster up the courage to even start it, that is.

A loud bang sounded from the other side of the locker room, making Iwashimizu wince. So, Ebumi was still here. Iwashimizu still had time to ask him. But his body just wouldn’t move; his feet felt like lead and his body felt like his blood had been replaced with sand. The opportunity to reach out to Ebumi was slipping away with each passing moment.

Somehow, Iwashimizu managed to drag himself toward the sound of Ebumi’s laughter and general chaotic noise. He stopped at the end of the row of lockers and stared for a moment. Ebumi would hate him if he asked. What if Iwashimizu had just imagined the whole ordeal? Then he would ask a ridiculous favor and Ebumi might never be able to forgive him for being so stupid.

“Oi, jolly green giant. You need something?”

Ebumi’s voice sliced through every thought in Iwashimizu’s mind. A blush rose to the blonde’s cheeks. He had Ebumi’s attention. If he asked now, it would all be over with and he could go home.

“E-Ebumi-san -” Iwashimizu stuttered out.

“Nah, none of that formal bullshit. Just tell me what’s up.” Ebumi said.

“I-I was wonder i-if m-maybe you c-could, uhm, i-if you could…”

“Spit it out, skyscraper.”

“T-Tell me how your makeup stays so nice!”

Ebumi cocked an eyebrow at the blushing first year. He knew he had a reputation for being kind of a delinquent jackass, so this had probably taken every ounce of the kid’s courage. Scanning Iwashimizu’s face, Ebumi took note of the nearly perfect eyeliner wings on the blonde’s eyelids and the clumped mascara on his lashes. A shame, really - Iwashimizu had such long, beautiful eyelashes already. Ebumi was jealous.

“What are you talking about?” Ebumi asking, hoping for more details.

Iwashimizu looked down. “W-Well, your makeup never runs during games or practices. A-And it always looks so smooth, like you just applied it.”

Ebumi preened at the compliments. “Of course. I’m the shit. My makeup is fucking fantastic all the time.”

“C-Could you teach me?”

If it were any other first year, Ebumi would have told them to fuck off and die. Yet, when he looked at Iwashimizu, with his soft voice and kind eyes and general brightness, he couldn’t say no. The blonde needed confidence and goddamn it, Ebumi was going to make him looks so good, Iwashimizu would have no choice but to be a sexy badass.

“Show me what you use. Come on, whip it out, let’s go.” Ebumi commanded.

Iwashimizu’s face lit up. “Th-Thank you, Ebumi! Uhm, let me just find my case.”

Ebumi waited. He watched Iwashimizu dig around in his backpack and fish out a little floral patterned makeup bag. He had to admit that with how shy Iwashimizu was, he had expected a plain black case. Apparently the giant was full of surprises. Iwashimizu handed to pouch to the winger.

The contents were absolutely pitiful. Cheap eyeliner and mascara, the worst matched shade of foundation Ebumi had ever seen, and a few tubes of chapstick and lip gloss that were old and dried out. How was Iwashimizu even surviving? Ebumi was so goddamn high maintenance that he wouldn’t let anything that cost less than 1400 yen touch his face.

“This is all trash. Who even uses pencil eyeliner anymore? And this foundation doesn’t match your skin. This fucking lip gloss is so old they don’t even make this brand anymore. What the fuck, Iwashi?” Ebumi ranted.

Iwashimizu curled in on himself. “Sorry, Ebumi. I-I can’t buy it very easily. People look at me weird when I try.”

“Then fuck ‘em. Here, I’ve got extra stuff. I’ll give you real makeup and half your problems will disappear. You like that natural pink color for the lips, right?”

“Oh, no, Ebumi! Please don’t give up your things!”

Ebumi laughed. “Quit worrying so damn much. Ise keeps buying me this shit to woo me. It’s working but I ain’t going to tell him that. So it’s fine. Now, do you like natural pink or not?”

Iwashimizu nodded shyly. “I like them to be light and shiny.”

“Figures. You like the shojo manga heroine look. You do that for yourself or to impress someone?”

“Uh, well, I like the way I look, so I guess myself. But -”

“It’s the little fucknut who’s trying to be a winger, isn’t it? God, don’t do your makeup for that fucking shithead. You wanna look pretty? Look pretty. Do it for you.”

“I do. But sometimes I add a little extra to…nevermind. It’s so silly.”

“What’s fucking silly is that you don’t have any glittery eyeshadows when I know for a fact you like glitter. You got twenty of those goddamn glitter pens in your bag right now. I’ve got some of that, too, and you can have it.”

“Thank you.”

Ebumi ignored the gratitude, reaching into his own backpack to find his makeup case. It wasn’t difficult; the thing was bright pink with ‘TASTY BITCH’ written on it. Opening up the pouch, Ebumi pulled out all the essentials: liquid eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss and lip pencils, foundation, eyeshadow. He decided against blush. Iwashimizu blushed so much that he didn’t need it.

“Take them. Dump the other shit. This is all waterproof, so it’ll stay on in a fucking flood. Now, open your eyes so I can teach you how to put on mascara.” Ebumi ordered.

Iwashimizu obeyed. Ebumi began slowly rolling the mascara on, carefully flicking the brush at the end of the lashes to create a sharp point. He smirked when Iwashimizu gasped in amazement. God, the kid really needed to gain some standards. Any middle school girl could do this in two seconds.

It was then that Ebumi realized that Iwashimizu wasn’t like him. Iwashimizu didn’t have the confidence to storm into a makeup shop and demand that the stylists teach him. He probably couldn’t ask his mom for help and the girls at school would probably laugh at him. Iwashimizu had taught himself. No wonder the blonde was so excited; it was like finally having a mentor.

“Pucker up. Lips next.” Ebumi said.

Picking up the lip pencil, Ebumi carefully traced Iwashimizu’s lips. Goddamn this boy was lucky - his lips were soft and pouty. Ebumi dabbed a bit of lip gloss on to finish up the look.

“There. You’re fucking fab, Iwashi.” Ebumi said.

“Thank you. It feels…different. Not in a bad way, of course! It’s just -” Iwashimizu said.

“It’s okay. I used to use crappy makeup, too, before I realized that it fucked up my skin. It’s different, but you like it, right?”

“Oh, yes! I love it!”

“Great. Show me how to do the eyeliner wings. I can never get them right, and I’m pretty sure Ise tired of my bitching about it.”

“O-Oh. Okay. See, you just have to trace and fill. Like this.”

Iwashimizu placed a gentle hand beneath Ebumi’s chin, tilting his head up to get a better angle to apply the eyeliner. Hands unusually steady, Iwashimizu drew a perfect line across Ebumi’s eyelid and drew a small curve to the side and brought it back down. He filled in the space and started on the other eye. Once he finished, he offered Ebumi his compact to examine the work. Ebumi let out a loud laugh, startling Iwashimizu.

“You amazing bitch! I look like a goddamn model! Thanks.” Ebumi said, slapping Iwashimizu on the back.

“I’m happy to help. Thank you for helping me.” Iwashimizu said softly.

“We should probably get the hell out of here. I bet the little fucknut’s waiting for you.”

Iwashimizu giggled, and Ebumi wondered how Gion hadn’t already made a move. Gathering his things, Ebumi followed Iwashimizu out of the locker room. Sure enough, Gion was waiting outside the entrance, sitting on the ground and drawing in the dirt. Iwashimizu gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

“I was wondering if you were ever coming out, Udo. I’ve been waiting forever.” Gion said, getting to his feet and dusting off his pants.

“I’m sorry. Ebumi and I were talking.” Iwashimizu said.

Gion made an unimpressed face and looked at Iwashimizu, search the taller boy’s eyes for a lie. Instead, he noticed how big Iwashimizu’s eyes seemed and how…well, Gion couldn’t describe it. He just knew it made his stomach twist and his heart beat weirdly.

“What’s up with your face? It’s weird.” Gion blurted.

Iwashimizu’s cheeks burned red, his eyes downcast. Ebumi growled and marched over to the shorter boy, grabbing his ear. Gion shouted and began to slap at him.

“Give us a sec, Iwashi. Gion forgot something in the locker room.” Ebumi gritted out.

Ebumi dragged Gion into the locker room and slapped him in the back of the head. And then he did it again. And then one more time for good measure. Gion rubbed the now sore spot and glared at Ebumi.

“What the hell?” Gion snapped.

“What the fuck was that? ‘It’s weird’ - I should cut off your fucking dick, you dumb shit. Why would you say that to Iwashimizu?” Ebumi hissed.

“Because that’s how it made me feel!”

“Well, I hope you’re feeling fucking pretty now because you’re going to walk out there and tell Iwashimizu how fucking pretty he looks. You’re going to say ‘wow, Iwashi, your eyes really pop today’ and ‘geez, your lips are so shiny’ and ‘holy shit, your hair looks amazing.’”

“Why would I say that? It would make Iwashi uncomfortable.”

“God, you’re a fucking dumbass. Just listen to your smart as hell senpai and tell the giant he’s pretty, okay? Shit.”

“But -”

Ebumi slapped Gion upside the head once more. The brunette scowled, but relented. After agreeing to follow Ebumi’s orders, Gion wandered back outside and stood awkwardly next to Iwashimizu. The blonde looked a bit sad; maybe Gion had really hurt him.

“Hey, Iwashimizu.” Gion said.

“Y-Yes, Gion-kun?” Iwashimizu asked worriedly.

“You look pretty today.”

Iwashimizu blushed, tucking his hair behind his ear shyly. “Thank you.”

“You wanna get something to eat on the way home?”

“Uhm, sure! McDonald’s?”

Gion became flustered. “Sure.”

Ebumi smirked as he watched the two walk away. It was official; he was the best senpai ever. He just hoped the little fucknut wouldn’t fuck it all up. He didn’t want to have to cut the shorty’s dick off; that would definitely make Iwashimizu upset.

Nepenthe (Anthony Ramos/Aspiring Actress!Reader)

Woah, I’m finally posting this! I’ve been working on this for weeks, but with everything that happened with my dad and a lot of other stuff that’s been going on, I never really had time to work on it. I’m really happy to post this, but it probably sucks, honestly.

I promised @lamsbur that I’d tag him in this… so here you go!

Warnings: Swearing, Starbucks, Anthony being awkward, and the reader being kind of a dick.

Words: 1400

Nepenthe (n.) something that makes one forget their sadness

“Okay, well, we’re all done. Thank you for coming in,” the woman behind the desk said, cutting your sentence that you had spent hours upon hours memorizing for the past few weeks. You had put your all into this audition, only to be cut off, and you weren’t sure when it would be any different. You inwardly sigh, but force a smile at the woman.

“Oh no, thank you for having me. Have a nice day,” you force out, trying to keep your eyes from reflecting how you were really feeling; like screaming about how much of your life you’d put into this damn thing to get thrown out of the room early by someone with eyeshadow that was too pigmented and a foundation three shades too light for her skin. 

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aka: truth

Cross-posted from A03. Many thanks to @youveneverbeenalone for beta-reading. You’re awesome.

The one where they play truth or dare. In a dumpster.

Set maybe two months after The Defenders finale.

Content warning: Jessica Jones-typical levels of profanity, and alcohol use.

“How,” Jessica asks the sky, the trash bags around her, and the man in the dumpster beside her, “the fuck did I end up here.”

Her tone doesn’t rise even slightly to inflect it as a question. It’s more a statement of absurdity, rather than any attempt to actually question the universe. But she’s pretty sure Murdock won’t call her out on the lack of tonal indicators.

“Good question,” he groans beside her. “Ugh. Shit.”

“Hey, at least you’re not in a suit.”

Matt has dressed down for once, coming to the bar for their weekly tradition of drinking and snarking at each other. The dark blue jeans had done amazing things for his ass. Prior to them being thrown out of the bar, and into the dumpster, that was.

She’d been tempted to fight the barman on it, but she was pretty sure that it would have earned her a lecture from Saint Matthew. And for some reason, she wasn’t feeling like getting one of those tonight.

“No, I can genuinely smell the faeces in this. Fantastic.”

“Huh. So, the super-senses really do have as many disadvantages as I thought.”

Matt’s laugh was more of an angry huff than anything else. “You have no idea.”

Silence for a while. And then:

“We should play truth or dare.”

“In a dumpster,” Jessica says, wanting to clarify this.

“Yeah. It’ll be fun!” Matt replies.

“I want you to think about the stories of our lives before you try reiterating that sentiment in any way, shape, or form,” Jessica tells him.

He snorts, amused. “Jessica, if I wanted to dig down into all the painful parts of your life, I would think of a much better cover than Truth or Dare. I am here, in a dumpster, with a friend. I am twenty-eight years old, and most of the time, it feels like I have the world – or ten blocks of Midtown, whatever, it’s still stressful – on my shoulders, and for once, someone else has the Kitchen, and I do not feel like that. And I want to have fun and be juvenile. So: truth or dare.”

And Jesus, but he’s actually a good lawyer, because he stops right there, and lets Jessica sway herself. Which she (reluctantly) finds a little impressive. A little.

“Ugh, fine,” she says.

Across from her in the dumpster, Matt’s smile is a flash of sunlight, there and gone, warm and brilliant.

Jessica ignores the little squeeze in her chest at the sight in favour of lamenting just how terrible the dumpster smells.

“Do you want to leave the dumpster?” Matt asks her.

Jessica contemplates that. She’s nowhere near drunk enough to be unable to move, physically. She is, however, drunk enough to wonder what the point of moving would be.

“To get away from the terrible smells,” Matt points out, because he is a smart and logical man. Not that Jessica will tell him this, of course. His ego’s swollen enough already.

“…Nah,” she eventually decides. “Not worth it.”

Matt hums. “I disagree with you there. But as you wish.”

“We playing, or what?”

He chuckles. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, you asked for it. Okay. Truth or dare?”

“Truth, if only because I’m scared of contracting salmonella if I carry out your dares in this dumpster after that.”

“Jesus, it’s like you think I’m trying to kill you or something.”

“Only sometimes. Depends on how Catholic I’ve been this week, I think.”

And Jessica chuckles at that. “Alright. Truth. How the hell do the senses work?”

He hums. “Good question. You know the basics, chemicals splashed in my eyes when I was nine. But essentially, it’s just me doing a hell of a lot of analysis all the time. Acute hearing, acute sense of smell, acute sense of taste. The hearing helps me map things out – there’s always a sound bouncing off something, and it’s just a matter of concentrating hard enough to map out what it’s bouncing off.”

Jessica lets out a low whistle. She’d known he was clever, but shit. “Shit. So echolocation?”

“Kinda. I can sense vibrations, too. Temperature changes. Balance and direction. All that kinda stuff. My turn?”

“I guess so. Dare.”

“I dare you to get me out of this dumpster.”

Jessica groans, inclining herself to a sitting position and standing on top of the trash bags. “You’re sneaky, Murdock,” she says, picking him up by the neck of his shirt. “One, two–” the warning is for his sake, not hers, as she dumps him on the ground. He lands in a crouch, knees bent, absorbing the impact with ease.

“Only sometimes,” he says.

She thinks about flopping back down in the dumpster, and sighs, jumping out of it to join him in the alley, but she uses too much force and the concrete cracks beneath her feet.

Murdock gives her an intrigued look.

“My turn again,” she sighs, “truth or dare.”


She tilts her head. “Do a handstand for as long as you can hold one.”

Matt’s grin is bright and delighted, and in it she sees the ghost a tiny, cheeky, cocky smartass of a kid who just loved showing off, briefly reanimating an adult’s body.

“You’re on,” he says, and then he’s springing forward onto his hands. His glasses slide off and clatter onto the concrete of the alleyway, and he makes a noise of distress.

“Relax. I’ve got ‘em,” Jessica says, carefully squatting – keeping her balance is taking more concentration than normal, and she’s not wasted, but she is what passes for tipsy for her – and slipping them into her jeans pocket.

“Thanks,” Matt says, and his Irish complexion is already going a slight shade of pink. Ten seconds.

His breathing remains the same, even and easy, not even straining.

Thirty seconds.

Jessica huffs. “That all you got?” she asks, trying to keep the faint note of ‘I’m reluctantly impressed’ out of her voice.

Matt’s teeth are white against that oh-so-distinctive mouth and increasingly dark pink cheeks.

“You ever consider – going on the professional asshole circuit?” he grunts. The thing is, his arms aren’t even wavering, but he’s flinching, before he reluctantly flips back onto his feet, immediately swaying a little.

She’s moving before she can think about it, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. “Easy, there, devil boy,” she says. “Can’t have you fainting on me. What are you, a period romance heroine?”

Matt huffs a laugh at that, but he is steadier on his feet now. Reorienting himself, probably. “Yeah, that’s me. Swooning left, right and centre. Truth or dare?”


“Race you to the top of that roof,” Matt says, pointing to the roof of the bar, and Jessica sighs.

It’s going to be a long night.

But she finds herself fighting a smile anyway.

She beats him to the top of the roof, because no shit, Sherlock. She’s still slightly impressed by the way he scales the wall, and almost regrets the victory. If she were still down on the side-walk, her view would be better.

“My turn, Murdock. Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he laughs, hauling himself onto the roof-top. His sleeves are rolled up, despite the chill of the spring night, exposing toned forearms and Jesus, Jones, he’s your friend, don’t screw this up with your libido.

“What’s the deal with you and Claire anyway?” she asks, because she’s seen the way Matt holds himself around Claire: stance a little softer, voice the tiniest of shades warmer, body language a little looser. A hint that from Claire, he would tolerate things that he would from nobody else. The way that she caught herself standing around Luke.

Matt looks up at the sky, sightless eyes staring through the lights of Manhattan. “I make terrible decisions when drunk,” he informs the air.

“That you do, Counsellor. So, the deal?”

He sighs. The words that follow are those of a man ripping off a scab at the speed of light. “She pulled me out of a dumpster, I saved her from the Russian mob, we could have had something, but Claire’s frankly way too smart to get involved with my Messiah complex. And that was that. My turn. Truth or dare?”

The question was asked much more quickly than last time, but Jessica could live with that. It’s what she got for prodding at one of Murdock’s soft spots.

“Dare,” she responds again, breezily.

Matt cocks his ear to the side, listening. “You picked me up earlier. But you used both hands. I dare you to do it with one.”

Jessica snorts. “You’re using kid gloves tonight, for some reason.”

He shrugs. “This is supposed to be fun. We can do therapy another time. For now, I want to shoot the shit with a friend.”

And with those words, Jessica feels a sensation like relief unfurling in her belly, along with a faint hint of disappointment that his interest seems so strictly platonic.

But, whatever, it’s probably for the best anyway. Shit gets complicated when sex gets involved – just look at the past eighteen months of Jessica’s life – and she likes having Matt around as a friend.

The attraction will fade. It will.

He cocks his head to the side. “You okay?”

She smirks. “Just thinking about how best to do this. Hope you’re not too attached to that shirt.”

He shrugs, but looks a little wary. “I have plenty of button-ups, it’s fine, but what exactly are you planning on doing–”

His voice goes up an octave, as she picks him up by the collar of the shirt, producing a ripping sound, and then slowly shifts her grip so that he is securely slung over her shoulder, held in place by one arm, as promised.

“Oops,” Jessica says, completely unrepentant. “How bad’s the damage?”

“I’m gonna need another button-up. And your scarf.”

“Why?” she asks. “Mugging? Robbery?”

“No, because it’s freezing and I’m only wearing a T-shirt underneath this.”

She snorts, setting him back down on his feet and handing her scarf to him. “Whatever. You know, you could get your own.”

He shrugs, tucking it around his neck. She takes advantage of the fact that he can’t detect line of sight in order to study the picture he makes, profiled against the skyline of their city. “I like yours, though.”

She rolls her eyes, steadfastly ignoring the little flutter in her gut. “Whatever, Murdock.”

His smile is filled with mischief. “My turn.”

milly-neko-chan  asked:

RFA+ V and Saeran react to MC can rewind time (Yup,Life is Strange🌝)

LIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE GAMES IM SCREAMING ヾ| ̄ー ̄|ノ i ended up only doing the main 5 as i couldn’t really think of anything for saeran or jihyun that wasn’t depressing ://

- absolutely shocked when you first tell him
- he’s not skeptical of you or what you’re telling him because he’s always believed in the supernatural and magic
- plus he knows that you would never lie to him or trick him like that
- he just keeps excitedly screaming show me show me show me
- as a test he plays a full round of lolol; you rewind, telling him exactly what the match score will be, what weapons and moves he’ll use, and how much xp he’ll get
- he jumps around and sings about how you’re a “time wizard” and a real life lolol character (zen
- laughs a little bit
- “mc, you’re really funny”
- thinks you’re pranking him – you don’t lie to him but you like to play practical jokes on him
- “i’m not lying zen.” “suuuure.” “I’ll prove it.”
- you grab his rehearsal bag and dump out the contents: a hairbrush, crumbled-up sheet of music with drawings of fish crackers on the staff, a pack of orange sorbet gum, and tap shoes
- you rewind and tell him all of the contents, down to the last details that you wouldn’t have otherwise known
- he jumps away from the coffee table, wide-eyed and mouth gaped
- “i…need a shower”
- he asks you not to use them if you can help it because he firmly believes in fate and destiny

- skeptical at first
- “i believe that you are joking with me because there is no way that is possible. magic cannot be proven to be true. i only believe in what can be proven to me.”
- this annoys you so you decide to prove it to him
- you go through his work folders and examine the number of papers he’s brought home and what the contents of them are
- you tell him all the notes he took during his phone call with his father, the budget for the cat wine business, and even the types of drawings he and jaehee were passing back and forth during the noon meeting
- he’s really dumbfounded and keeps rubbing his temples out of disbelief
- “mc, i….i’m sorry for doubting you”
- he likes to use your powers so he can continually try different ways to get jaehee and mr. chairman to approve his car businesses

- “mc, i am very tired. am i just imagining this or did you tell me that you have the powers to rewind time”
- has to make herself a WHOLE MUG of coffee before she can even continue to entertain the conversation
- “so you’re serious?” “yes.” “i’m not asleep?” “no.”
- you prove it to her by going through the contents of her work satchel and then rewinding time to tell her what was in it
- she believes you but needs to drink another whole mug of coffee before she rattles off a whole slew of questions
- there two of you use your powers so you can continually watch your favorite scenes of a new movie premiering on television

- “saeyoung, i can rewind time.” “yeah, mc, and i can pull a full gold bar out of my ear.”
- thinks you’re trying to prank him at first
- every time you try to tell him how serious you are, he laughs at you and goes back to work
- you decide to show him up and sit behind him as he’s hacking
- you memorize multiple lines of code and different error messages and rewind back to him laughing at you
- you go back and tell him the first few lines of code you remembered and some of the error messages word for word, each and every letter and number
- he stares at you for a moment; then his lips curl up in a smirk and he wiggles his eyebrows
- you guys spend the afternoon prank calling the rfa and random phone numbers and then rewinding so you don’t get into trouble
- the next day you guys play pranks on people and rewind so they don’t pick a fight with saeyoung
- saeyoung literally only asks you to use it for pranks. nothing else.

I’m Peachless!
Thank you TOO FACED for this beautiful box of Sweet Peach goodness 🍑

I just had to film the contents of this glorious PR package to show you all!
I can’t wait to try all these yummy makeup products.

How cute is that Sweet Peach bag?Plump and edible looking.
And how gorgeous is that Sweet Peach Glow palette? ✨

You can purchase these products from Debenhams here in the UK, and Sephora in the US.

Music: Touch - Little Mix

Are You Ready? (Part 3)

Dean x Reader High school AU

Word Count: 1,449 (I know it’s smaller than the other two I’m sorry!)

Warnings: language, alcohol use, ANGST (don’t hate me)

Summary: It’s senior year of high school and you have everything, good grades, amazing friends, a perfect boyfriend. But what happens to all that when something totally unexpected happens, changing your life forever.

Your best friends will be the lovely babes @bovaria@abaddonwithyall and @winchesterenthusiast

Also tagging: @sincerelysaraahh, @pada-ackles@bookshido, @demondean-for-kingofhell, @emmy-winchester, @elainenc123, @balthazars-muse, @mrswhozeewhatsis@lilyoflothlorien, @pulgapelayo18@ilostmyshoe-79, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @oriona75, @t-bear99, and @hqwcll

Part 1 Part 2

Originally posted by amemoryoftime

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Words: 4,280
Benny x Reader
Warnings: disturbing and frightening scenarios, mentions of capture, mentions of blood, grief
Summary: Dean, Sam, Cas, and Benny take off after Y/N in hopes of catching her before she does something stupid…
A/N: This is a series! Part one here! I feel like I need to take a shower after writing some of the stuff in this one. *shudders* You’ll see! Prepare to be creeped?disgusted?angry?all of the above? There will be one more part at least after this one!

Your name: submit What is this?

Your hometown looked pretty much the same. There were some new businesses that had popped up on the main commercial stretch and the continued cycling through of others in the spots that never seemed to host any one store for long, but otherwise it still felt familiar.

Being back after so much time, returning as a completely different person, was leaving you with an uncomfortable and unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach. You drove the same route that you had driven countless times in what now felt like another lifetime. There was the gas station you used to stop at on the way home from school. On the next block your eyes landed on the barbecue place your brother used to say could cure any ailment. There was suddenly a tightness in your throat and chest and you tried to push it down. Finally you slowed your old truck and turned down a quiet residential street. Just three blocks down you turned into a driveway that led to a house set far back on a double lot.

It had sat vacant for so long that it now had a slightly forlorn look about it. The gutters needed to be cleaned out and the mature trees that hid the house largely from view were in need of trimming, but when your eyes took in the large front porch and the cheerful front door you half-expected to see your mom planting flowers in the front garden and your dad grilling out around the side. Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away, doing your best to shake off the memories.

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Reverence - 3. First night

Originally posted by soluscheese

Summary: Reader x Dean: The Winchesters welcome the reader to the bunker.

Word Count: 2139

Triggers: Hints at bad past

Y/N = Your name  Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Note: This is a slow burn type story, really slow, but I promise it’ll be worth the wait! The full story will be written in third person limited point of view with Dean as the main character.

Chapters: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 
Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15   Part 16


Dean stopped the Impala, careful to leave enough space for (Y/N) and her big bulky truck. After parking his baby he almost leapt out of the car, stopping only to grab the duffel bag from the backseat before walking over to where she was getting out of her own car. His hand sliding over the ebony hood of his car as he silently thanked his baby for safely getting them home from another hunt.

It was stupid, idiotic really, but he found himself missing talking to her on the drive back. Even though it had just been a few hours’ drive back to the bunker. He’d been constantly looking through the rear-view mirror, checking that she was still right behind them on the empty road. Barely hearing Sammy ask him if it was really ok for her to stay and waving off his surprise at the trust he’d so easily given her.

Not that his little brother minded. Not really. Like him, Sam trusted Bobby, and Dean could tell he liked her too. Sammy needed more friends. They both needed someone that was truly a friend to them. And she seemed like she could be. Still, he felt a little stupid for missing their conversations over the few hours it had taken to get back to the Men of Letters bunker.

She was just so easy to talk to. It had been a while since Dean could really get lost in a conversation. Since he could truly laugh without forcing it. She brought that back, and now he didn’t think he’d be able to be without it. So the drive back to the bunker had seemed painfully slow.

Smiling as she hiked her backpack up on her uninjured shoulder Dean was doubly happy. He was home, and she was there too. He had his safe haven and a new friend that was quickly turning into a true confidante, someone he knew he could trust. Someone who brought some light back into his life.

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home for christmas

For teenwolftoday’s prompt: I want a fic where Cora forces Derek to where a christmas hat, a dorky sweater and smile while sitting in front of a christmas tree holding his present, when she “accidentally” sends the photo to stiles. Stiles may or may not have put it as his phone wallpaper. [x]

Derek frowns at the ridiculously decorated Christmas tree in the center of the mall, gaudily blinking with lights and shiny ornaments. Its a far cry from the live evergreen that used to sit in the Hale home, smelling of fresh pine needles and covered in homemade popcorn strings, paper chains, and generations of ornaments crafted by Hale children.

He pushes the memory of unwrapping gifts with his family, warm and content, far, far, from his mind and tries to focus on the glittering, swirling mess of people in the mall, swarming to and fro, busily getting their last minute Christmas shopping done.

Cora shows up on time, grinning mischievously and overladen with shopping bags. “Oh, good! You waited in the right place,” she exclaims.

Derek scowls, clearly uncomfortable with waiting right in the middle of the Christmas display for his sister. He stiffens when Cora pulls out a bulky package from one of the bags and unwraps a garish Christmas sweater, festooned with shiny ribbons and stockings and a knitted fireplace that puffs out of the sweater. It’s horrid. It’s in 3D. And wait, what– Cora is stuffing him into it, pulling it over Derek’s head.

“Cora–” Derek splutters, but Cora just pouts and makes this face at him, and who is he to deny his baby sister anything, so he endures her manhandling him into the sweater.

Derek glares determinedly at her but she laughs with delight, pulling him towards the tree display and whipping out her phone. “Come on, stop smelling like sadness. It’s Christmas,” Cora says, arranging some of the display presents around Derek and even dropping one on his lap.

Cora snaps the picture, and Derek grumbles, “Just don’t show this to anybody, okay?”

And Cora coos, “Of course not, big brother.”

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Rain & Shine (Taemin Scenario) Part 2.


Your body aches everywhere as another sneeze explodes from inside of you. You’ve been home sick for about 3 days now and you’re certain your boss is going to rip you a new one when you get back because you’ve already called out of 2 shifts, which is “against company policy,” or so she says. But, sick is sick and you can’t go to work like this. Your hand wanders the table blindly when you reach out for the roll of toilet paper. You remembered you had never actually bought what you had gone back for the night it rained so hard and you got stuck in the convenience store. You needed tissues, but now, when you were in dire need of them, they all seemed to be gone. So, here you are, on your 6th roll of toilet paper, and your stock is starting to run thin. You may have to brave the outside world sometime soon to restock your tissue, toilet paper, and chicken noodle soup supplies.

You roll onto your side and burrow further into the couch, pulling your plush blanket up to your ear and listening to the hushed running man re-runs that you’ve been half watching since yesterday morning. You’re pretty sure this is the 7th or 8th episode with Jung Yonghwa but you haven’t actually looked at the screen in some time.

You’re all but asleep when the door bell buzzer causes you to nearly fly off of the couch. From the amount of force with which you jump, you’re sure the neighbors below you must think you’ve been shot. You will yourself to stand from the couch and take a moment to regain balance as the sudden rush of movement causes you to become light headed and dizzy. You wrap your blanket around you shoulders and make your way to the door. Sometimes you wish you had one of those fancy door viewer things so you knew who was outside, but you don’t really care right now seeing as how you can barely even breathe regularly.

You swing the door open and flip the hair out of your face to see who the tall figure standing before you is. His long black hair sits in a perfect, tiny pony tail right on the top of his head and his stark white t-shirt shirt has the perfect neck line so that you can clearly see his fragile collar bones and lean neck and everything about it is perfect. It isn’t until you realize you’re actually gawking at his appearance that you realize it’s Teamin standing before you now, and it’s even later that you realize that you are actually the grossest human being on the planet at the moment. “Oh…I…um…hi….I,” you sputter, pulling your blanket tighter, remembering you only have a tank top and panties on beneath it.

“Hi!” He gleams, “Oh no,” he breathes, expression dropping in a matter of seconds as he takes in your appearance, “you’re sick?” He asks, head cocking only slightly to the side. You nod, embarrassment getting the best of you. You feel warm crimson flood your cheeks while his eyes inspect every bit of your covered form. “When did you get sick?” He asks, his speech and body language suddenly switch from excited to worried and cute.

“Uh, about three days ago I guess.” You say, taking a step back into the apartment, voice hoarse and almost a whisper when the words escape your sore throat.

“Ah, _____-ah’s voice is so cute when she’s sick!” He gushes, pushing past you into your own home, slipping his shoes off gingerly in the entry way before peeking around the small space. “Do you live with your boyfriend or…?” He trails off, placing his bag on an arm chair and peeking his head into the bathroom.

“No,” you huff, annoyed and confused, following him back into your home, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” You plop yourself back down, careful not to let any of your blanket fly away.

“Oh?” his tone perks up. He sits in the same chair his bag previously occupied and glances over your coffee table, noticing the balled up toilet paper strewn across the area and empty bowls and glasses cluttering the coffee and side tables. “Aish, what is this, ____-ah?” he asks, scratching the back of his newly died hair.

You blush again, “I ran out of tissues a few days ago so…” you notice the empty cardboard toilet paper rolls at his feet and glance away quickly. Why did he have to show up at your house? And why did he have to come today of all days? “Hey, Taemin-ssi? Not to be rude but…. What are you doing her-” You cut yourself off with a fit of coughs.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concern filling his voice. You nod, knowing even if you try, the words won’t be audible. He suddenly, smiles and stands rapidly. “I’ll be right back.”

“What? Where-” you rasp, but he’s already out the door. He even left his bag. Dummy.

You quickly rush to your bedroom and change just in case he does come back. Re-entering the living room you decide it’s a good idea to clean up your mess while you’re up. You gather all of the crumpled, makeshift tissues and empty toilet paper rolls and dump them all in the trash. You place all of the dirty bowls and glasses in the kitchen sink and lie back down on the couch and zone out to running man once again.

You’re pretty caught up in what the two teams on this episode are up to when the door opens again and Taemin’s loud voice interrupts your peaceful dwelling. “I’m hoooommmmeee!” He sings, bursting into the room. “I come bearing gifts!” He shouts, holding up the plastic shopping bags in his arms. He sits back down in the chair and begins rummaging through his plastic clad treasures. Before you on the newly cleared coffee table he places three boxes of tissues, two bags of cherry cough drops; a LOT of canned chicken noodle soup; a pack of vitamin-c tablets; cough medicine; and a bright green stuffed monkey. You scan and survey each of the items he’s placed down and look back up at him, expression giving him everything you could and yet can’t really say without it coming out as a whisper. His shinning smile graces his face and his charming eyes stretch into adorable crescents.

He picks up the stuffed monkey and fondles its fur momentarily before handing it to you directly. “This one is because,” he pauses, thinking over his words in his head again, probably so as not to embarrass himself, “because I know sometimes when you’re sick it can be hard to sleep so I got this to help you sleep even if you feel like you can’t.” He blinks at you and you blink back, not quite sure how to respond. Thank you, you mouth, wrapping your arms around the plush toy and sitting back against the couch. His expression brightens and he reaches for his bag from earlier. “One more thing!” He searches frantically through the contents of the bag before it seems he finds what he’s looking for. From the depths of that mysterious bag he pulls…your sweatshirt?

You try to recall why and how he has this. Then, you remember you let him use it as a towel after he was drenched by rain and he never actually returned it to you that night. You had thought that was the end of that; he was famous and you were never going to see him or you sweatshirt again, end of story. You never thought he’d return it, let alone show up at your apartment and restock your entire sick person supply for you. You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to properly thank him. You throw it around your shoulders and pull the zipper. “Hyung washed it for you and everything,” he beams proudly, your heart does a back flip and you’re pretty sure the world just stopped for a moment, “I hope that’s okay.” Taemin grumbles. You look up to him and nod quickly, already holding the soft fabric to your face and inhaling the clean scent. Not just clean but…him. It smells like Taemin. How did you end up here? “Do you want some soup now?” Taemin asks, catching you by surprise once again. Do you take his offer? Are ordinary people allowed to let celebrities cook for them? This is only the second time you’ve ever actually spoken to each other and you’re pretty sure what you’ve done today doesn’t actually constitute as speaking.

“Yes please,” you manage and stand to help him carry cans into the kitchen. He pushes you back down onto the couch and continues preparing your soup, all the while talking and talking away behind you. You settle back down and let his voice drip into your ears, slowly turning from intelligible words to a sweet hum that fills your dream space and warms you from the inside. You wake to see a bowl of soup steaming in front of you, covered by a second bowl to keep it warm, a tall glass of ice water, a vitamin-c tablet on the table beside the glass, and your monkey curled tightly in your clutch. No sign of Taemin anywhere, but all the proof that he was actually there is right in front of you.


A/N: Thank you so much for reading!! uwu I hope you liked part 2! I’m not sure how far or where this one will go but hope you’ll all enjoy the ride with me!!

<3 Minah

Werewolf Suho AU Part Four

Part one Part two Part Three

I woke up being gently shook by Suho. I let out a groan, noticing I was still in his arms.
“I need to go to work. I wish I could stay in bed with you.” He mumbled the last part. I opened my eyes to see Suho, shirtless with messy bed hair, but I swear he’s never looked more beautiful. I shyly removed my arms from around him and sat up as he got out of bed and began getting ready for work. I laid in bed as Suho got ready.
He came out of his closet wearing his matching suit and expensive leather shoes. He walked other to the bed and kissed my forehead, his lips leaving shivers in their wake.
“I’ll be home at four, hopefully you can find something to keep you busy.” He whispered before leaving the room.

“Ms. Y/L/N, would you mind doing a small favor for me?” The maid asked me during the day.
“Of course, what do you need?” I asked her.
“Can you run to Suho’s office and give this to him?” They women asked, handing me a lunch bag, I nodded and grabbed it along with a small notepad paper with the directions to the office.
At the office, the receptionist stopped me when I tried going on the elevator.
“Sorry miss, you aren’t allowed up there.” The man said, making me furrow my eyebrows together.
“Don’t worry, she’s with me.” I heard a voice say. I turned around to see a tall man with tan skin, smirking while walking towards me. He gripped my elbow and pulled me towards the elevator with me in his pull. He pressed the top floor button, his hand still on my elbow, his grip was painfully tight. When the elevator reached the floor, he wrapped his arm around my neck and tugged me with him. When we got to Suho’s office, he pushed open to doors so hard they smacked against the wall. Suho’s head snapped up, his face turning red with anger when he saw the man at his door, and furious when he saw me in his grasp. I scratched at his arm with my hands, trying to get his hands off me.
“You got a pretty one, Suho.” The man said, his other hand reached up and stroked my cheek, making me try and jerk away from his touch. Knowing Suho doesn’t like this man made me terrified.
“Let her go Kai. She has nothing to do with this.” Suho growled.
“I’m deeply hurt that you didn’t tell me you found your mate. I was very surprised, even more so when I found out she’s human.” Kai said, Suho stepped towards me, and Kai tightened his grip around me, making me try harder to get away. His arm was restricting my breathing, making me gasp for air.
“Kai, I’m begging you, leave her out of this. We can talk about this later.” Suho pleaded, The man, Kai, raised his eyebrows.
“Never in my life have I ever heard Kim Suho beg.” Kai said, smirking. He released me, pushing me and slipped out of the door. I dropped to the floor, catching my breath. Suho was instantly at my side, wrapping his arms around be and pulled me to his chest.
“Are you okay? Oh god please tell me he didn’t hurt you.” Suho whispered, holding me tight. His hand stroked my hair, his other stroked my back.
“I’m okay. Who was that?” I answered.
“Vampire.” He growled the word, making me shiver. “I’m so sorry you had to experience that. I can’t believe he touched you.” Suho said getting angrier. I pulled away from his embrace, cupping his face in my hands.
“It’s okay, I’m okay. I promise.” I whispered to him. He covered my hands with his and just stared into my eyes for a bit. His eyes were a gorgeous, warm brown color that made my knees weak whenever I looked at them. I pressed my lips to his forehead before standing up, pulling Suho up with me. “The maid sent me to bring this for you.” I told him, showing him the lunch bag. He let out a short laugh, looking at the contents.
”I think she was encouraging us to eat together, there’s two portions in here.” He said with a laugh, pulling a chair close to his desk and sat down at the leather chair that I assume he does his work there. I sat in the chair he pulled up and began pulling food out of the bag.

“Hey Y/n, can I talk to you?” Suho asked at night when he was home from work.
“Of course you can.” I said as I followed him to his seat on the couch.
“I’m so sorry about what happened today- I had no idea he would go after you. And I’m sorry I didn’t even go after him, all I cared about was seeing if you were okay and I-” Suho rambled, stopping mid sentence when I pressed my lips to his. Suho froze with shock but then kissed me back. I pulled away, Suho looked at me shocked.
“It’s okay Suho. Don’t worry about it.” I told him. He nodded softly.
“That was a really good way to shut me up.” He whispered with a smile on his face, making me laugh loudly.
“Hey Suho? Can I ask you a question?” I asked.
“Of course. What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothings wrong I just- Can I sleep in your bed with you again tonight?” I said shyly, making Suho laugh softly.
“Of course you can. you’re always welcomed to come sleep with me.” He replied with a smile.

Sorry it took so long to update, I’ve been at Kcon all weekend. -Peach