Kidd Is So Red Haired Michael Clifford Coded (and Vice Versa) And I Stand By This Hill

matt & foggy: we've only known karen for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her we will kill everyone in this room and then ourselves.

MLEM

Patent Matt Murdock™ Moves and Expressions:

1. The "disappointed soccer mom" pose

2. The white people smile :]

3. Puppy head tilt 🐕

4. Mlep 😛

5. The ☹️

THIS IS SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY

his wife and nothing more

pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

warnings: suggestive dialogue

word count: 1,200

summary: Matty wants a housewife and no one can convince me otherwise. fluffy.

navigation

marvel master list

Matt had been spending long hours away from home. The difference this time was that he was spending time at the office, not on the street, which meant that he really couldn’t stay home. He didn’t always make his own hours as a lawyer. He had to make a three week trip to Boston for the case he was working on. Tonight he was back in Hell’s Kitchen and he promised you that he would be home by dinner. He knew how much you missed him, and he hated to leave his girl alone. He hated to be without his girl even more.

When he got into the building he could smell your cooking. You were making his favorite. He could hear the sounds of Aretha Franklin on his record player. A dopey smile spread across his face as he clicked the elevator button, feeling blissfully happy now that he was so close to you. He pulled open the door and began slipping off his shoes and placing his glasses on the shelf by the door.

“I’m home, baby,” Matt called as he put down his bag. When he turned around you were wrapping your arms around him and kissing him lovingly, your tongue sliding into his mouth. You pulled away only when your need for air demanded it, taking in a deep breath. Matt chuckled against your lips.

“I missed you,” you purred.

“I can tell,” Matt said with a smile.

“Never leave me for that long again,” you practically whined.

“Come with me next time,” Matt suggested. You let out a dry laugh.

“Miss three weeks of work and still have a job? You’re funny, Murdock,” you said as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck. His hands slid around your waist so that they rested on your lower back, his fingertips just barely brushing the swell of your ass. The two of you began slowly swaying to the Aretha Franklin record you had playing.

Matt’s head was tilting a bit as he took in every detail of your presence. He could smell your shampoo still lingering from a shower you must’ve taken that morning. Your heart was beating a bit faster than usual, he assumed from the excitement of his arrival. Then he realized that you were wearing his Columbia sweatshirt. His heart ached as he thought about what it would be like to really see you in his clothes. He had almost lost track of the conversation, but his words came out before he could think better of it.

“Then quit,” Matt said as he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. He surprised himself, but when he heard the thought out loud he knew that he meant it. “I can take care of you.” His heart stopped for a moment as he thought of what it would be like to have you as his wife and nothing more. Completely and totally taken care of, with nothing to worry about at all. You chuckled.

“We aren’t even married,” you pointed out.

“Not yet,” Matt said assuredly. You raised an eyebrow, a smile dancing across your lips.

“All you have to do is ask,” you said, your voice as sweet as syrup. Matt’s heart warmed. He raised a hand to your cheek, running his fingertips along your soft skin and pushing a few loose pieces of hair out of your eyes.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. You deserve a proper proposal,” he said. You smiled.

“I think you already know the answer anyway,” you said. The corner of Matt’s lips tipped upward and he gave you a quick peck.

“But we’ve got to do something about that job of yours…” Matt said. His tone sounded more serious than teasing and you couldn’t tell if he meant what he was saying.

“Are you serious, Matty? You want me to quit?” You asked.

“I want to take care of you,” Matt said. “And if you let me take care of you, we could be together a lot more.”

“You’re serious about this?” You questioned again, needing to be sure. Matt nodded.

“Business has been good lately. I’m making enough for both of us,” Matt said. You were considering his offer when you had a sudden thought.

“What about when we have kids?” You asked. Matt beamed excitedly.

“Are we having kids?” He asked. You blushed.

“I don’t—I mean—I just thought…” You stuttered. You took a pause. “Do you want to?” You asked. Matt gave you a sweet smile.

“Yes, sweetheart. I want to have kids with you,” Matt assured you. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze. “I want to give you a family.”

“Well, I’ll need a job for us to be able to take care of them,” you said.

“No, you don’t.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Matt, if you’re making so much money then why are we still living in this neon lit atrocity of an apartment?” You asked. Matt chuckled.

“I thought you liked it here,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“I do, but there’s a reason the rent’s so cheap,” you replied.

“I have something worked out. You don’t have to worry that pretty little head, baby,” Matt said.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Matt paused for a moment, nervous about telling you what he’d done.

“I bought us a townhouse in Astoria,” Matt admitted.

“You bought a house?!” You exclaimed in question. Matt nodded.

“It’s got three bedrooms, we’ll have plenty of room for kids. There’s a fireplace in the living room and a basement that I was gonna renovate so you could have your own space,” he said. You looked at him in awe, taking a moment to process everything he was saying. Matt started getting nervous that you weren’t responding. “If you don’t like it—”

“Can we go see it?” You asked. Matt’s heart lifted. He had been worried that you might be upset for making such a big move without asking you, but he had also wanted to surprise you. He was quite the fan of grand romantic gestures when it came to you. He’d never met anyone like you. He wanted to give you everything and he’d been working harder at his day job to make that dream a reality.

“Not today, the current family’s still living there,” he explained. “In two weeks.” You took a moment and realized just how much Matt loved you, how serious he was about you.

“You bought a house for us,” you said in amazement, your voice just barely a whisper. Matt smiled softly.

“For you, sweetheart. Everything I do is for you,” he whispered back. You leaned up and kissed him tenderly, running your fingers down his chest.

“I love you, Matty. So goddamn much,” you said.

“Language,” he chided. You chuckled. You reached up to rest your arms on his shoulders, linking your fingers together at the nape of his neck.

“Matthew Murdock,” you murmured to yourself. “My good catholic boy. How did I ever get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one,” Matt said. You scoffed.

“Yeah, the one who bought the house is the lucky one,” you said. Matt chuckled.

“I was hoping to get lucky tonight too,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t want your dinner?” You asked.

“I think I can find something else to eat.”

I wanna talk about the Cliff scene!!

Mohamed Diab basically explains that Oscar did the whole scene of Marc and Steven conversing in a take with the camera just panning between himself and the mirror as a transition between Marc and Steven. Like??? Oh my GOD

Oscar literally manages to change his whole demeanor, his facial expressions, accent, and his posture in SECONDS while the camera pans from Steven’s reflection on the mirror to Marc. I honestly thought that this scene was filmed separately, and they had VFX for Steven’s reflection but nope. It was filmed in a shot with the camera panning back and forth between Oscar and his actual reflection and gODDAMN.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. Oscar Isaac is so damn talented and if he doesn’t win an award for this—if MOON KNIGHT doesn’t win any awards for the production as a whole, I will riot. I swear.

love is a mixtape

author note: HIIII!!! i think like one person follows me on here and they made a really nice comment about a previous fic i had posted literally months ago, so thank u for that!

that fic didn’t end up working out and i deleted it because i wasn’t happy with the way it was written. uni is way too stressful for me at the moment, and i know i’m only setting myself up for failure by forcing myself to write.

this is something i started a couple nights ago. it hasn’t been proofread by anyone other than me so let me know if there are any errors at all. tysm.

summary: you’ve just started to unpack at matt’s apartment, but moving day get’s interesting when you find an old mixtape boxed up with your books.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff and domesticity, sexual references, swearing, alcohol consumption.

(around) 2.2k words 

-

“Well, well well. Just look at what we have here.” You chide, turning the old CD over in your hands, the cover in two broken pieces and coated in a thin sheen of dust. The penmanship is thick and wonky, uppercase letters written in smudged black sharpie. You read in an exaggerated accent, “Boston Beats” and hear Matt’s groan from over the kitchen counter.

You’re unpacking the second last box of books and records at his apartment when the familiar disc makes an appearance, reflecting rainbows on the walls as you inspect it for scratches. It was a last-minute gift given to you by the boys when you graduated, and just about the best present anyone could manage to afford while drowning in student loans. 

“I remember paying Foggy in pepperoni pizza just to make that for me. It took him a week, and to this day I still don’t know if he took longer just so I would buy him more food or if the Columbia library computers were actually that slow.” Matt recollected, looking fondly towards you, brain flooding with memories of late nights and shoebox dormitories.

If you squinted hard enough, you could imagine his freshly shaven face and black rectangular sunglasses from college. You would proofread each other’s assignments aloud, bursting with pure joy every time Matt or Foggy got a ninety-something score. The mental picture was enough to make your skin buzz.

“It was a very sweet idea.” The admittance is genuine, and you see Matt’s dimple appear briefly before he turns away and drains the rest of his beer. 

“Eh, it’s the thought that counts.” He dismisses it and reaches into the fridge for another two green bottles, carrying them between his fingers and joining you in the living room. 

Your back is pressed up against the coffee table and you’re sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce on the hardwood floor, at the epicentre of a paperback-vinyl-dust-bunny-explosion. You rummage even further into the box looking for the speaker system that you know you packed. 

Once upon a time, you could recite the tracklist in perfect order, having listened to it religiously for the 6 months you were away interning in Boston. It was the soundtrack for heartbreak, new friends, missed buses and the coldest winter in Massachusetts on record, but holding it in your hand now, those memories couldn’t feel any further away.

“I prohibit you from playing that CD.” Matt is glaring all-knowingly, having fully anticipated your antics. You gasp in mock horror.

“Matt, I don’t think you understand. This is comedy gold that I am holding in my hands.” You plead jokingly. “It’s honestly cute that you think I won’t be playing this on repeat for the next week.” A piece of plastic flies off into the bedroom when you shake the case a little too enthusiastically, and you stand up to put it in the bin before someone (definitely you) steps on it.

“If you truly love me you will never let that mixtape see the light of day ever again.” 

“Don’t you dare use our relationship as an ultimatum Matthew Murdock!”

“What was that? Did you mean an ‘alltomato’?” He quips, referencing your linguistic blunder from just a few months ago, a mistake he often teases you about. 

“Stop making fun of meeeeee.” You protest, covering your head with your arms in embarrassment. “I will not stand for this behaviour. You forget that I have all the power here!” He is reminded once again of the corner you’ve backed him into, eyes rolling up to the roof as he nods his head in understanding. You bend over to pick up the small plastic shard, eyeing it between pointed fingers.

While investigating the jagged edges, your vision refocuses on the unmade bed before you, silk sheets drooping limply over Matt’s side of the mattress (damn blanket hog). It’s not your best plan of attack, and you certainly don’t expect it to work, but a proposal formulates nonetheless. Matt Murdock may be a man of honour, but he is also just that, a man.

“Oh, Matty. I have a suggestion.” You drop the plastic on the bedside table to quite possibly injure yourself on later. The floorboards begin to creek slightly under the weight of your careful footsteps. 

Sneaking up from behind, you tousle his messy hair and slide your hands down the length of both of his arms. Your chin rests on the back of the couch now, lips poised by the side of his head.

“If you give this here ‘Boston Beats’ a chance, I’ll wear the valentines set to bed tonight.” You whisper teasingly, adjusting the hem of his t-shirt, playing ever-so-slightly with the band of his sweatpants. He inhales sharply and catches your wrist with deadly dexterity. 

If dressing up all in silk isn’t reward enough for the ensuing hilarity, you don’t know whether to be surprised or disappointed, for a number of reasons. 

His ‘tch’ing is enough to make you second guess yourself, but within seconds he points an apathetic finger at the last remaining box of clutter from the old apartment. 

“At the very bottom, underneath the wooden jewellery case.” He sinks into the couch. “That’s where you’ll find your CD player.” 

You pinch his cheek lovingly and saunter back towards your pile of junk, wearing the widest smile you can manage.

-

You were seconds away from placing the disc in the tray when Matt interrupted.

“I think I need to set some ground rules first.”

“Always with the lawyer talk.” You hang your head dejectedly but await his demands.

“Number one, we will listen to three songs.” 

“What do you take me for?! A dunce? Five songs. At the least.” He launches a couch cushion over the coffee table. It bounces off your shoulder and knocks awry the classics section of the bookshelf, the area you spent the last thirty minutes organising. Knowing it was only a warning toss, you laugh but quickly cover it up with a gasp.

“Four?” He innocently offers. God, he may as well be pouting his lips and twirling his hair.

“Deal.” 

“Number two, it stays in the trunk- with my suit!- until I decide what to do with it.”  

“It can’t be thrown out! It’s a relic, Matthew. Imagine what Foggy would say if you got rid of his hours of hard work!”

“I’m not going to throw it out,” He reasons, shrugging his shoulders in earnest. “I just don’t  remember what’s on it and I’d rather not be made of fun every day for the rest of my life because twenty-something-year-old-me decided that Lovefool was the epitome of romance.”

“Oh, made fun of? You mean like you do to me?” 

“Exactly!” He grins.

The summer breeze is swept up from the street and in through the window, fresh air and soft amber light engulfing the room. Five years ago, making this move would’ve plagued your thoughts and given you debilitating anxiety, keeping you awake for nights on end just to contemplate the logistics of it all. Today, you managed ten boxes and zero meltdowns in one day. Just to be around someone as resilient as Matt; someone who isn’t discouraged by stupid setbacks and instead offers simple solutions to each of the silly issues you encounter - makes it enjoyable to complete even the most tedious tasks. 

It’s easy to see why the most famous tragedies are all built around love. You can’t believe you went so long without it, without him.

“Okay! I agree, with all your stupid conditions. Can we begin now?” He almost seems sad to see the banter and flirtatious disses disappear, having half-expected your light-hearted arguments never to end. He smiles nevertheless and nods for you to press play. 

“Deep breaths Matthew.”

He stands up just as the dreamy guitars of Friday I’m In Love kick in and your mouth widens into a teasing smile. You think he might get all dramatic on you again but he just shakes his head and looks down into his lap. What would he say if he could see you stumbling around the living room with all the grace of a baby giraffe?

“Isn’t this just wonderful!?” You sigh in adoration, swaying back and forth with your dance partner.

“I hate you so much right now.” Matt begrudgingly chuckles and slips his arms through yours, which are pressed sassily into your hips.

“You love me.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

You let nothing but the music come between the two of you. Toe to toe and chest to chin. Your heart is sent into overdrive when he presses a light kiss onto the crown of your head. To this day, Matt still severely underestimates the effect he has on you. The slightest touch makes you dizzy with infatuation.

“You know I had multiple copies of this CD? One for the car, one for my Discman and this one right here. It stayed at home. All the time. I slept with it under my pillow.” You were playing now with the crucifix Maggie gave him, tracing the ridges of the cross over the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re lying.”

“You of all people know that’s not true.” Tapping the left side of his chest.

The next song started. Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want.

“Why so many?”

“Because I was scared I’d lose it. Scared of losing you.” It hurt to reminisce, knowing that only a couple months after you had left, you and Matt called it quits, stopped calling at the end of the workday and communicated through Foggy; only when necessary.

“That was around the time I put on the mask.” The music suddenly felt far sadder than it should. “I was so angry that I let you go. I should have followed you to Boston- made sure that stupid things like distance didn’t get in the way. We could have been different.” “You’re a New Yorker through and through Matt. Hell’s Kitchen is your forever home.” You pushed a little further into his chest. Skin-to-skin contact doesn’t cut it in the intimacy of the moment.

“I would’ve followed you.” He insisted again.

“I know. I know you would’ve.”

The song ends suddenly, and in the silence, Matt grunts out “God, I was a miserable fuck back then. Is there anything above 80 beats per minute on this thing?”

He’s spoken too soon. The funky bassline of Deee-Lite’s Groove Is in the Heart ensues. 

You and Matt just about double over in ugly, stomach-clutching laughter, the mood from moments before sliced clean out of the air. The both of you catch your breath just in time to sing along,

I couldn’t ask for another!

“Why did you want us to listen to this?”

“Because you and Foggy made it!” 

“Foggy should be charged as an accessory to murder. My eardrums being the victim.”

“Oh shut up.” You swat him away and take a sip of your beer, warm now from the heat of the apartment. “If you ask me, this is the most romantic thing ever made.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah I don’t get all the fuss about poetry and paintings and wine. Give me a ‘Boston Beats’ mixtape any day and I’ll get my priorities straight.”

“You always know what to say to make a guy swoon.”

“I try.” You smirk and he kisses you on the lips for the first time that night. “Only one more song left now, are you ready to make it count?”

“I’m ready for this to be over. Not trying to be rude, but I actually have a meeting at 8pm just through those doors over there.” He made a loose gesture to the bed.

“I’m sure she won’t mind if you’re a couple minutes late.” 

“I certainly will.” For a minute he’s silent. He contemplates the move, trying to assess through your touch if now is the moment. 

The disc skips slightly.

You play along, give him a look through hooded eyes that you hope can will him to bridge the gap, maybe even transcend the boundaries of sight. 

Outside, the sun is sinking further into the Manhattan skyline. The music isn’t the only thing you can hear anymore. There is also laughter outside and the click-clack of high heels on the pavement.

Your breathing is so shallow that you think you might implode, body aching for his touch now that he is selfish enough to be so far away from you.

The movements are so quick that all you can do is follow his lead. You step backwards, him over the pillow from earlier. You navigate the sofa and legs of the coffee table all while staring up at him, surroundings darkening as you make it through the sliding door entrance to your room.

The only thing you can hear is your heart thumping; blood rushing wildly - as you tug Matt’s sweatpants down.

"are you ok?"

no i want matthew murdock to cuddle with me and kiss me on the forehead and tell me that everything's going to be fine. I need him like i need oxygen to breathe.

Incorrect Star Wars Quotes: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

-` 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕤 ´-

[ 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ]

【 𝙃𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 】

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (Ending)

【 𝙑𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 】

Teaser

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Doodles

[ 𝐀𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ]

【 𝘿𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣 𝙎𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧 𝙈𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙙/𝙋𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝘼𝙐】

Kanae meets Sanemi and Shinobu is trying to grill Giyuu alive

Giyuu is saved yay

The Butterfly Pirates info

Lionfish based merman Kyojuro and Betta fish based Akaza (ft Inosuke)

Barmaid Mitsuri

Sea creatures they're based off

Sanemi stares at Kanae's poster

Yooo Giyushino crumbles 🤭

How Tanjirou and Kanao met + doodles

Injured Kanae

【 𝙐𝙣𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙉𝙚𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 】

The first

The second

The third

The fourth

[ 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ]

【 𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙨 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙨 】

Chibi Tanjirou, Luffy and Izuku

Tanjirou's forehead

Ft. Nezuko and her Blood Demon Art

One day at the park...

They have tragic siblings yeah

🍉

something i drew in the middle of the night after watching mando s2 ep 7

ruined surprises (moon boys x f!reader)

PAIRING: Steven Grant & Marc Spector & Jake Lockley x F!Reader. WARNING(S): N/A. SUMMARY: When (Y/N) goes to work, she accidentally leaves her phone at home. Steven, being as helpful as always, retrieves her phone to hand it over, so she has it during her shift. However, a few things pop up on her phone that have him a little bit occupied.

Having an early morning shift, you were up and out of bed before the sun had even started to bleed through the windows. You were quick to get changed into your work clothes, only taking a small moment to gaze at your boyfriend's sleeping face. He looked so relaxed, and you were glad your movement from the bed hadn't woken him up - you did not want to ever be the reason he was disturbed from the only time where he was truly at peace.

Taking that little moment would cost you your phone, but you were none the wiser as you left the flat without it, leaving it on the bedside table by accident. Your job didn't really allow you to use your phone, as you were facing customers most of the day, but the main reason you would normally have it on you was to make sure that your boyfriend, and his alters, were okay. And they were also your main emergency contact should anything go wrong at work - but that was mostly to keep Steven and them in the loop, thus keeping their anxiety at bay.

An hour or so passed before Steven found his eyes being attacked by the sunlight coming through his curtains. Groaning, he turned and subconsciously reached out to touch you, only to find a cold, empty spot on your side of the bed. Blinking in confusion, Steven sat upright in the bed you shared, his head swivelling around anxiously as he automatically assumed the worse.

"She's at work, remember? They had her take someone else's early morning shift."

"Oh right, yeah... I totally forgot, didn't I?" Steven sighed in relief, thankful for the fact that Marc and Jake were there to remind him when things had changed. Marc more so than Jake, because Jake tended to keep to himself and simply observe.

The familiar sound of your ringtone broke through the air, causing Steven to jump out of his skin before he quickly turned to look at it with wide eyes.

"Oh dear - she forgot her phone!" Picking it up, his eyes squinted as he tried to read the letters on the screen. Tess? Who was Tess? Had he met them before? Before he could figure out if the name rang a bell, the call stopped and your phone screen went back to black.

"You guys don't happen to know a Tess, do you?"

"Hm, no... it doesn't ring a bell. What about you, Jake?"

Jake simply shrugged in the mirror, his head shaking side to side as he wordlessly answered their question.

"Maybe you should open up her phone? See if it's anything important?"

"I can't do that! She'll - she'll kill me!"

"We can always blame Jake?"

"Ni se te ocurra!" Jake glared at Marc for even suggesting that, and it was obvious he was holding himself back from slapping him on the back of his head.

As they started to argue back and forth, Steven bit his bottom lip in thought before he found himself opening up your phone. He knew the pattern you used, and he had never thought about using it to open your phone before. But the random name in your phone, and the fact you had forgotten it at home, made Steven worry about your safety. His head had a tendency to make up the worst kind of scenarios, especially now that you were involved in his life.

A text from Tess popped up on your screen, prompting Steven to press on it and open it up. From there, he could see your whole message history between yourself and this Tess.

"Tess just sent her a text. It says: 'Y/N, sorry I tried ringing you, I forgot you had taken that extra shift today. I was just wondering if you were still looking to meet up?'" Steven frowned as he spoke, his words a little unsure until he finally managed to grab his glasses and put them on his face.

"It just sounds like she has plans to meet up with a friend. Nothing to worry about." Marc tried to be reassuring, but it was obvious Steven was nervous for you and your safety.

"Scroll up a bit - see if she has anything to hide." Jake spoke up, quirking a brow from the mirror as he crossed his arms. While Steven would normally ignore Jake's suggestions, he could not help but follow suit and start slowly scrolling up to read your messages.

"Woah... woah woah woah!" After each 'woah', Steven's eyes grew wider and wider, to the point you could easily confuse him as some kind of humanoid Pug.

"What is it, Steven?"

"I bet it is something saucy."

"Please get your head out of the sewer."

"We all share the same head, hermano."

"... Touché."

"No no, guys, shush - this is serious!" Steven rushed to the mirror, holding the phone by it so they could see the screen as well. It showed an exchange between yourself and Tess, where you were getting advice on how to surprise your boyfriend with some sexy lingerie. There were even Pinterest pictures of various options, which honestly would make all three of them drool at the sight of you.

"Wait... this actually is saucy. How the Hell did you know?"

"Lucky guess?"

"Guys... we ruined her surprise for us... she's totally going to hate us for this." Steven whined, throwing his head back as he felt guilty all over again.

"No no, Steven, we're fine - everything is fine! We can just pretend this never happened!"

"If anything, hermano, she will still look sexy as Hell - even if it isn't as much of a surprise as she may have wanted it to be."

"Jake's right. She may not even surprise us until a few days from now, anyway, so we may actually forget? Maybe this Tess, or whatever her name is, is just wanting to meet with (Y/N) today to help her pick out some lingerie?"

"Is it not a little weird that she's talking about this stuff with a friend we have never met before?" Steven frowned in thought, as did Marc and Jake. Steven did have a point, but the message history seemed to only really focus on the lingerie. How had the two of you even met? Steven scrolled all the way up to the top, only to let out a long sigh of relief.

"Oh, never mind, this Tess Black works at some kind of lingerie shop, and it's near (Y/N)'s work. Now it all makes total sense." Chuckling in disbelief at his own worriedness towards the situation, Steven facepalmed. "And here's me thinking the worst..."

"Well, at least now we know."

"Yeah, but Marc... she's actually going to kill us if she finds out we were snooping in her phone. Especially if she finds out after making a load of effort to show herself off." Steven can't help but grimace at the thought of you getting angry at them. He had never seen you be proper angry before, and he was almost frightened of the prospect of it happening all because of him.

"Just don't tell her. Unread that message from Tess and just pretend that you didn't see anything. Jake and I will keep our mouths shut as well."

"Yeah, don't worry too much about it, hermano. We've got this."

"Yeah... yeah, we've got this." Steven tried to put on a confident smile, but it was awkward and felt weird on his face. Listening to Marc's advice on setting the message as 'unread', Steven turned off your phone and pocketed it. "Can one of you front for when we get to the shop? I-I don't know if I can keep the truth from her..."

"I'll do it." Jake was quick to answer, causing Marc to quirk a brow and Steven simply nodded before he found his eyes rolling back and he was inside of the mirror, Jake taking his place inside of the host body.

It wasn't long before you had clocked the fact you were missing your phone. You were patting at your pockets helplessly, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips, before you spotted a familiar figure make his way into the store. At first, you thought it was Steven, but when you noticed the cap and the slightly wary look in his eye, you could instantly tell it was Jake.

"Hey, princesa. You lose something?" He grinned at you, waving your phone in your face. Grabbing it, you grinned back at him, thankful that he had been thoughtful enough to bring it over to you while you were still at work.

"Thank you for bringing it. I got worried for a second there that something might have happened at home, and I wouldn't have been in the know." Your large grin turned into a more sheepish smile as you rubbed at the back of your neck.

"It's not a problem, princesa. It was Steven's idea, anyway, he just had... something to think about, so he couldn't front." Jake's explanation, and the pause within it, seemed a little off to you, but you simply kept the smile on your face, none the wiser to the events that had taken place between you leaving the flat and Jake coming into the shop, your phone in his hand.

"Well, I better get going so you can focus on your job. I'll see you later though, yeah?" Jake lent down to give you a surprisingly gentle peck on the side of your face.

"Of course, see you later." You nodded, gazing up at him lovingly. "Just make sure that your calendars are free tonight, okay? I have something special to show the three of you." A sly smirk makes its way onto your lips as you lower your voice into a hushed whisper.

"Oh I'm sure you do, princesa. And we can't wait to see it."