#these guys mess me up cus their names are never ordered the same

[aiekerman]

Easy - Eren Jaeger

Eren Jaeger x Reader - fluff, college!au

AN - If you saw me post this before, no you didn’t. But in actuality it is a repost I just changed it to second person oops. But anyway, hopefully anyone who sees it for the second time likes it again lol. 

(A part 2 and/or prequel does exist for this in my brain if anyone was ever interested!)

Song vibes: Easy by Troye Sivan ft. Kasey Musgraves

Summary - Just a pair of friends that definitely do not like each other. But leave their rooms at midnight for each other with no hesitation, and know each other’s food orders, and are low-key affectionate with each other.  A pair of friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N: Hey :)

Eren drags his head out of his textbook as his phone goes off. Pushing stray hairs back off his forehead and out of his eyes. His tired eyes lit slightly at the sight of your name. His fingers quickly replying

Eren: Hey u

He glances at the time, 12.03 am, he frowns, worried whyyou were awake so late. Three bubbles appear on his screen as he waits for your reply to arrive.

Y/N: U up?

Eren: I’m texting u back aren’t I?

Her reply takes slightly longer this time, and his mouth crooks up at the side, picturing the eye roll you were most definitely doing.

Y/N: Shut up

You know what I mean

Eren: Yeah I’m up

Last minute studying

He pulls the phone from its charger and leans back in his chair, one foot against the desk leg and swinging back slightly. You take a little longer to reply and his eyes drift to the top of the screen where your contact picture is. His mouth betrays him again and a smile ghosts over it. 

The picture is simple. A candid of you sat proudly in front of a sandcastle you were making at the beach during spring break. Your legs splayed either side of it, covered in sand. You were smiling up at someone, probably Sasha, your hair a wavy, salty mess, blowing in the sea breeze.

Your reply finally comes, vibrating the phone in his hand and dragging him from his thoughts. He rolls his eyes at your message.

Y/N: Midnight Taco Bell run? :)

Eren: Have you been smoking?

Y/N: No I just also happen to be doing midnight work and have a craving

His fingers move to reply before another message comes through, very quickly, and he pauses.

Y/N: And I miss your dumb face

Eren: You mean my pretty face?

Y/N: I change my mind I’m asking Jean

Eren: Shut up I’m getting ready now

Y/N: :))

Eren chucks the phone over to his bed, staring at his textbook for a second. He knows he should keep studying, or better yet, go to bed. But he misses you too. He stands from the seat and shuffles around his room, quietly as possible. Armin was definitely asleep and would definitely make a dumb comment about Eren being whipped for someone he wasn’t even dating.

Eren brushes off the thought and pulls his sneakers on, swaps his gym shorts for sweatpants and scrapes his hair back into the best bun he can manage. 

After wandering out of his room he grabs his keys and wallet from by the door and shuts it over with the quietest click he can manage. 

On his walk to his car he sends one more text.

Eren: Getting in the car now

Eren: I’ll be like 10 mins

Y/N: I’ll be the cute one in pyjamas ;)

He laughs at the flirtatious message before switching on his car and driving off. 

His mind doubles back to what would be Armin’s comments on the situation. They weren’t dating, but flirting between friends was entirely normal. He shakes off feeling the need to justify his relationship with you. You were friends, best friends. That almost hooked up once. The first time you met. But now you were just friends.

Before he even realises it he’s pulling up at the kerb by your building, his eyes glancing up to the door and watching a shadowy figure emerge. His head leans back against the headrest when her form comes into the dim street lights.

You’re dressed the same as him, sweatpants hugging your hips and an oversized hoodie drowning your top half. He squints for a second, was that his hoodie? Nah, it probably wasn’t, you had similar taste in hoodies anyway. You push the hood back when you reach the car, a mess of hair tumbling out around your face. It resembled a bedhead, but he knew you well enough to conclude you’d been sleepily running hands through it all night to make the mess. Tugging at the roots in efforts to stay focused on whatever it was you were working on.

You tug the door open and pull yourself into the seat. Situating yourself before turning to him and pushing your glasses up her nose, foregoing contacts at this hour, ‘Hi.’

He smiles down at your smaller form, ‘Hey you.’

‘Let’s get going.’

He raises an eyebrow at you, watching you slide down in the seat. Your eyes are wide as you stare back, ‘What?’

‘Seatbelt.’

You roll your eyes and push yourself back up, reaching for the seatbelt, ‘Yes, mother.’

Hearing the belt click in place he pulls off, satisfied with your safety being secured.

You grab his phone from the cupholder, and push it under his face slightly, not obstructing his view but close enough for him to give it a quick glance and unlock his face ID for you. You start scrolling spotify and find your combined playlist, made with midnight food runs in mind. RnB starts flowing out of his speakers.

Dropping the phone back in the cupholder you turn to look at his profile, ‘So what you been studying for?’

‘Psychology final, not until next week but after I kinda bombed the midterm I don’t wanna be caught off guard. You?’

‘Final project is due in two weeks. I’ve kinda got it finished but I’m not sure.’

He smiles, knowing you were just being a perfectionist about it.

‘Am I gonna get to read it?’

‘Why do you want to?’ You laugh at him, looking over at his profile that was focused on the road ahead, but seeing his lip was pulled up in a smirk.

‘Cause you haven’t shut up about it all year, I wanna know if all the support snacks I’ve bought you have been worth it.’

You scrunch up your face and shove it down into the hoodie you were adorned in. It smelt like Eren. Wait, was this his hoodie?

‘Huh, nothing to say back?’ His grin is too smug as he steals a look at you. You glare up at him, ‘Shut up.’ 

Silence settles over you in the last minutes before you approach the destination. You push yourself up to sit when the glowing sign comes into view, your eyes lighting up again.

‘Drive thru or sit in?’ Eren questions, approaching slowly as he waits for an answer.

‘Sit in, please.’ He nods before swinging into a parking spot.

You both jump out and Eren rounds the car to your side, bumping you with his hip in greeting now you were out of the car. His hands are stuffed in his pockets but you grab hold of his sweatshirt sleeve gently as you start joking about how you had to sneak out without setting off Sasha’s food radar.

Inside you bounce ahead of him slightly, up to one of the self serve screens and start ordering. He smiles softly at how you had to shuffle the too-long hoodie sleeve up to let your hand emerge.

He comes behind you and places his chin on top of your head, watching as you confidently tapped at the different items.

‘You haven’t asked what I wanted yet.’ 

‘I know your Taco Bell order, idiot.’

‘Maybe I want something different this time.’

‘No you don’t.’

The screen goes black for a second while loading the checkout and he glances at your reflection. You push your glasses up your nose, looking up and sticking your tongue out at him when you see his eyes already on you. 

He smiles before ruffling at your already messy hair and standing back to pull out his wallet. Glancing up, he catches you doing the same and suddenly moves quicker, as do you. Whipping out his bank card and reaching around you to tap it on the terminal, the familiar beep of a successful transaction going off before you can push your card in the bottom slot.

Eren grins in triumph while you stuff your wallet back in the hoodie and grumble, ‘Stupid contactless card.’

You pull the receipt from the machine while he walks over towards a booth, dropping into the seat and stretching his legs out while watching you.

Your hands are shoved into the hoodie, you sway and shuffle around on you feet. Standing still was never one of your strong suits. 

A smile takes over Eren’s face as you yawn and rubs at your eyes, pulling the hood up over your head and pulling at the strings slightly. He chuckles at the image of your head being swallowed. You turn at the sound and frown at him, mouthing out ‘don’t laugh at me.’ Prompting his laughter to continue on.

He settles back in the booth when their number is called and you wander up to accept the tray of food.

Dropping yourself down across from him, the two of you automatically begin splitting out their food, almost instinctively knowing which packages were for who; Eren always had the nachos, you never deviated from fries. 

You ate in silence for just a moment before you pick up conversation again, ‘Are you gonna go to Jean’s party after finals?’

‘So bold of you to assume Jean could pull off a decent party without me.’ He smiled, stuffing a bite of his burrito in his mouth as you giggle. ‘What about you?’

‘I mean yeah probably, if everyone else is going.’

‘Well, Jean has got me and Connie roped in to help with set up, so Connie will make Sasha go, and Sasha will make Mikasa go, who will make Armin go, who will make sure I don’t flake off early and I’ll make sure you stay.’

‘Connie and I.’ You correct, reaching for your drink.

‘Shut up.’

‘Also, Eren Jaeger flaking early from a party is wholeheartedly unheard of.’

‘I left the last one early because someone needed to be walked home after throwing up.’

You pause with the straw at your mouth, eyes narrowing in a glare. 

‘You can’t get too messy this time anyway. Bertolt is gonna be there.’

You scrunch up your face in confusion, ‘Why’d you say his name like that.’

‘Because, you haven’t got laid since spring break, he’s cute and you said you guys have gotten super close from your fiction writing class.’

You roll your eyes at the tall boy’s explanation and shrug, ‘He’s kinda cute. I guess. And we haven’t gotten super close, we barely knew each other before the class.’

‘Exactly, he’s at perfect arm’s length for a hook up. You deserve it after all the stressing you’ve done this semester.’

You shrug again. Setting your drink back on the table and leaning back, your feet stretching out to bump against Eren’s, you think about it.

Eren watches you, yourr eyes staring out into space. Bertolt was cute, he didn’t get around that much from what Eren had heard of the boy, but he was sweet enough that he knew he could trust him with you, even just for a night.

But even as he looked you over, dark circles beginning to shadow under your eyes, figure swamped in your loungewear and hot sauce staining one edge of your mouth. You were way out of Bertolt’s league.

‘You’re probably way too good for him anyway.’

‘Even just for a hookup?’ Your eyes meet his green ones, your mouth showing a teasing smile starting to form.

He stuffs more burrito in his mouth and nods.

‘You think I’m too good for everyone.’

He swallows and reaches for his drink, ‘cause you are.’

‘Was I too good for you, is that why you didn’t have sex with me?’ You start grinning and laughing as he chokes on his drink. He leans an elbow on the table as he coughs, glaring at you through his lashes.

Eren sticks a hand out at you and gestures for you to cough it up. You pull a dollar from your wallet and stuffs it in his hand.

He imagines it’s the same dollar he gave you last week after he joked about your almost hook up. The metaphorical ‘don’t talk about the time we almost had sex’ jar was essentially the same dollar passed back and forth.

‘Was that one worth it?’ He raises an eyebrow at your giggling face as you reaches to open your crunchwrap, nodding in a satisfied manner.

You hold the hexagonal taco in your small hands and Eren chuckles. You eye him, taking your first bite and speaking out a muffled, ‘What?’

‘Your tiny hands always make those things look huge.’

‘Maybe your meaty boy’s hands just make it look small.’

He sticks a hand out in front of you, palm spread out to show the full size, ‘My hands are not meaty. And they’re no bigger than average.’

‘What are you talking about?’ You mirror him, lifting your hand to press a palm against his, the tips of your fingers just brushing above the second knuckle. 

‘Your hands are just tiny.’

‘No, they only look small because yours are huge.’

You both fall silent, two sets of eyes trained on your pressed together hands. Eren ignores the feel of his heart pounding up against his chest.

What was wrong? They’d held hands before? 

The ring of your phone blaring out an alarm drew both of them from the trance. Eren slid his fingers to interlock with your’s, playfully pushing your hand back towards your body.

‘Who’s calling you at this hour?’

‘No one, I, uh, I set an alarm for one thirty am. Otherwise we’d sit here all night, knowing the two of us.’

He lets out a small laugh, nods in agreement and starts to gather up your trash. His eyes run over your face just before standing, choosing not to make fun of the blush gracing your cheeks.

You stand and fall in stride next to him, bumping his hips with your own and poking his side, ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Got your eye on anyone for Jean’s party?’

‘Nah, I’d rather just chill. I’ll probably spend half the night making sure Jean stays relatively sober for his own party.’ You laugh at the idea, nodding your head fervently. Jean usually ended up the messiest of the bunch.

The exit into the cold night air, and your body is immediately taken over with shivers. Eren rolls his eyes but loops an arm around your shoulder, his own body a constant furnace. You hum in appreciation, leaning into his side as he rubs at your arm.

Climbing into the car, he blasts the heat. This time you pull on your seatbelt with no need for prompting, your head turning to stare up at him, the raise of her eyebrows translating to You happy?

He stays quiet, pulling on a cheesy grin that answers back, Very.

You flop back into your seat, a yawn overtaking you and the heat of the car soothing you The effort to keep your eyes open immediately doubled.

‘You can close your eyes. I’ll wake you when we get to your building.’

You look at him with a sorry expression, ‘But I dragged you out I shouldn’t-’

‘Sleep, idiot,’ he cuts you off, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to run over your hair, long fingers running through it. Always a surefire way to make you sleepy.

You drift off quickly, a smile softly laid on your cheeks.

Eren feels his heart beating hard once again. He swallows it down. Focuses on the road. Just friends was easier.

[mggssocks]

Followed

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: None just fluff :)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 1,899 words

A/N: This is Season 10 Spencer with Season 13 looks. Also, instead of it being Kate on the team, i put Emily instead because who doesn’t love the season 3-7 team? Also I might make a part 2 depending on how much this blows up. Honestly i’d be happy if i got one like. Anyways.. hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist // part 2 // part 3

It was 8:00 in the morning. Spencer walked in the doors of the bullpen to the bau. He sat his satchel down and began to settle in for a long day of work. It was pretty early so the team wasn’t in yet. Except for Aaron Hotchner who had gotten in an hour prior to Spencer and been in his office ever since. Apparently others had the same ‘get to work early’ mindset as Spencer. Spencer opened a case file but his attention was quickly whipped away due to the sound of the door opening. He sees Penelope Garcia with all her attention focused on her phone. Spencer quirked his eyebrows when she bumped into a fellow coworker and her attention remained on her phone while quickly mumbling a quick “sorry”. As she passed his desk, Spencer decided it would be the great time to speak. 

“Hey, Garcia.” Her feet came to a stop and her head snapped up at him. 

“Boy wonder! I’m so glad you’re here. I really need someone to talk to because if I don’t I’m going to explode!” She sits in the chair across from his desk. 

“Is everything alright?” He leaned back in his chair. 

“No… no everything is not alright. If anything.. everything is all wrong. Very very wrong. I-“ she takes in a deep breath “I was stalking Kevin’s page because the other day I seen him at the mall with another girl. And while I was 56 weeks down in his page, I accidentally liked a picture.” She explained, in a huff. 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Spencer was even more confused now than before she started. 

“I liked a picture that he posted 56 weeks ago!” Her eyes were wide.

“How is that a bad thing?” His lips pouted as he’d never understand social media. 

“Ugh! Reid, you really need to get with the program and get you an Instagram. That means his picture was old and now he knows that I was looking at his page. You understand now?” She asked. 

“Oh. Yeah I understand. It’s bad that he knows you were looking at his page.” He asked as Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan had walked in. 

“Yes. And now I must go into the bat cave and wait for him to call or text me and ask what me lurking on his page was about.” She whined as she stomped her way to her office. 

“What was that about?” Prentiss asked, setting her bags down on her desk. 

“Uhh- rough morning” Spencer shrugged, still not really understanding the whole social media thing. 

“Hey do you guys have an Instagram?” He asked the three. 

“Yeah but I’m barely on it.” Prentiss answered.

“Same here” says Morgan as he takes a seat at his desk. 

“Yeah but I only get on to post the boys and myself sometimes” answers JJ. 

“What about Hotch and Rossi?” He asked.

“Yup! Rossi likes to post about his expensive wine and cigars. Hotch posts Jack every once in a while and a throwback Thursday.” JJ says. 

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed for what seems to be the 100th time that day. 

“He doesn’t know what that is” Prentiss looks over to JJ.

“It’s something you post like an old picture of yourself every Thursday.” Morgan explains.

“Do you guys do that?” Spencer asked.

“I did last Thursday.” JJ pulls out her phone and opened the app. “This was right after Emily, Penelope, and I caught a guy who was trying to pick up Prentiss by pretending to be an FBI agent a few years ago.” She chuckled showing him a picture. 

Spencer takes her phone in his hand and examines the post. 142 likes. 57 comments. He clicks on her name which takes it to her page. 302 followers. As he scrolls, he sees a picture the team took a while ago and sees a little person profile thing the corner and clicks on it causing other names tagged to each individual team member. Except him. After he examined all of their profiles, he gives JJ back her phone and gets to work like the rest of them. He felt a little left out but he knew it was because of his own decisions and not his team. He liked that they didn’t press him about having a social media because they new he was more old school than anything. And it was ironic because he wastage youngest member of the team with the more old school habits. 

When Spencer got home he decided he wanted the social media app. The idea of being able to share with his friends and only his friends excited him. Being able to post about his favorite things for his friends to see without talking their ears off.

He opened his phone and went to the app store, typing “instagram” into the search bar. He followed the sites instructions as he made his account. Using a snapshot he took of his bookshelf as his profile picture. He sees the option to add the people in his contact list which was only his team, mom, and his mother’s caretaker. But everyone’s profile popped up and he quickly followed each and every one of them. Except for his mom and her caretaker of course. 

Soon enough, he got a follow back from Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ in that order. Morgan and Prentiss weren’t lying when they said they weren’t on often.

After two weeks, Spencer hasn’t posted anything yet, not knowing what should go on his profile. Morgan and Prentiss ended up following him back and the app ended up adjusting to his interests. Nothing but accounts about interesting facts, books, and doctor who. 

It was Friday night and the team had just got back from a case in Chicago. Spencer opened the door to his apartment and set his satchel down on the couch, exhausted. His mind wonders to get something to eat being that he wonders to get something to eat being that he hasn’t ate since before they caught the unsub. Which was about 5 hours and 7 minutes ago but he still needed to get something into his system. Spencer opened his fridge and sees 3 day old Chinese takeout. He shrugs and pops it into the microwave while looking for a book of his to reread while he eats. After he finishes dinner, he gets on his phone and subconsciously pulls up the app. He clicks onto his explore page to discover something else he likes. While scrolling, he sees a picture of someone reading and clicks on it.

765 likes

Yourfriend’sig whenever people ask me what to give you for your birthday or Christmas, I always tell them to get you a book or something green and it works every single time. Happy Birthday to my best buddy, @yourinstagram !

View all 84 comments

Spencer smiles and clicks the heart button and bookmarks it to look at later.  He liked the picture. Both the picture and caption reminded him a lot of his own love for books and the color green (hence his apartment). 

Once he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth. He found himself subconsciously scrolling through his instagram bookmarks to find her post. He doesn’t know what it was but something about the picture brought comfort to him. As he brushed his teeth, he clicked on the post once again.This time, he actually clicked on your account. It was a private account with 186 followers. The bio read:

Y/N... bookworm.

Her profile picture consisted of a black cat surrounded by either a bunch of well taken care of plants or artificial ones. His finger hovered over the blue “follow” button. As he bent down to spit his toothpaste out, his thumb accidentally clicked the follow button. But he didn't realize so until he looked down again to see the “follow” button replaced with “requested”. His heart basically drops out of his ass. He quickly clicks the button again, taking back his follow. 

It was now one in the morning, Spencer laid in bed awake staring at his ceiling. Once again, he clicks onto the app. He scrolled down his timeline and saw a picture Penelope posted of one of her new desk animals with the caption “Got her at a thrift shop! Isn’t she cute??”. He saw that Hotch and JJ liked 45 other people. JJ also commented with two red hearts. Spencer likes the post and keeps scrolling. His thoughts wander to the post about the girl again. He’s never thought about a social media post this much since he’s created an account. He wonders what sparked his interest so much about this one. As he makes his way to the post, clicking on her account. Debating if he should follow her. She’s a total stranger. Do the others follow strangers? There’s no way JJ knows 302 people in real life. He mentally shrugs and presses the follow button. Requested. Again.

He swipes out of her account back onto the post now seeing that she commented on it.

yourinstagram thank you, bubs! ily to the moon n back <3333

It was commented thirty six seconds ago. Meaning she’s currently active. Again, Spencer’s heart sinks and he immediately regrets his decision. Going back and unfollowing her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s a mess. Over a stranger. But he feels like an idiot. Reacting the way that he did just because he saw that she was online. So he goes and follows her.... again.

After clearing out all of his apps, he turns off his phone and lays down trying to get some sleep before work in a few hours. His thoughts wander to her. What she was like. if she was nice or mean. If she was socially awkward or very outgoing. Before his thoughts could get too far into what she was like, he receives a notification from instagram. He opens his phone and clicks on the notification. His heart began to pound when he saw it.

yourinstagram would like to send you a message! 

He clicks on it.

yourinstagram You’ve followed and unfollowed me about 5 times in the past 3 hours. Is there something I can help you with?

Spencer completely forgot that other people got notifications and now he felt like some kind of creep.

spencerreid I’m sorry. I came across your friend’s Instagram post wishing you a happy birthday and i guess i got curious and wanted to follow you if that makes any sense. 

He felt so dumb. 

yourinstagram and following me once wasn’t enough for some reason???

spencerreid Sorry about that. I’m new to this whole social media thing and don’t follow any strangers. You are the first person I’m following that I don’t know in real life. Again, my apologies for the disturbance. I’ll unfollow you’re account If you’re uncomfortable with me. 

yourinstagram i just hope that you’re not one of my raging exes, someone trying to catfish me, or a psychopath lol.

Spencer smiled.

spencerreid Nope. Just me.

She leaves him one read. Spencer’s smile fades when he doesn’t see any three loading dots. She wasn’t texting him back. As he’s about to exit the app, he sees two notifications. 

yourinstagram has accepted your follow request!

yourinstagram has requested to follow you.

********

I hoped you like this!!! If this blows up,i will do another chapter!

[love-hatred-stuff]

Villain's girl } Im Changkyun [monsta x]

genre: royal/soldier au, vampire au

warning(s): mentions of war(indirect), kind of kidnapping

word count: 1.9k

He, he was perfect, but I just wasn't ready to get involved with him.

I knew I would regret it because we needed each other. But he just hurt me too much. No, actually I really didn't care about myself. Still, I ran away from him again, probably the most unnecessary decision of my life. The only thing that stood in my way was my fear of the gilding of his life. I simply wasn't worth it, was I?

before:...

I was lying on a green meadow that was on a mountain. Hundreds of Lisianthus flowers had grown next to me. I loved them, their scent, their colors and also their sizes. They had a calm effect on me because I had known them since my short childhood.

I've been looking after myself since I was ten years old. My parents? Probably dead. They had left me for a reason unknown to me, but I hadn't thought about it for a long time, because it had racked my mind for the next thirteen years after they disappeared.

Now I was lying here and as far as I knew it was my birthday that day. I couldn't exactly remember that date, but I had celebrated it over and over again on the same day for a long time.

It wasn't a big deal to me as it wouldn't change anything in my life but I was finally eighteen.

The sun had just started to rise, but I wanted to start the day like this, with a quiet hour on my favorite meadow in the morning sun that smiled at me. Unfortunately she was the only one who did that.

Often times I would lie there all night and watch the stars. I was more than lonely, for many years I hadn't met anyone except soldiers who attacked and burned villages, as well as my house eight years ago.

I lost my parents, my house, my food and everything else I owned. Even if it wasn't much, my already small property shrunk even more. But I had to take it for what I was, what I was trying to do.

Despite my health, which had kept up well, I had thoughts of suicide several times. Jumping off a cliff is, eating any branches and herbs. And after a few temptations, I gave up. I couldn't do that to myself yet.

As slowly as possible, I got up to look for something to eat. I didn't really liked to go hunting because I was very fond of animals and hated to hurt them, so I mostly ate berries or mushrooms.

Except once a week, I took my bow with arrow to get me a hearty meal.

When I finally got up on my two legs, I ran and went to my hut, which I had built a long time ago from branches and bushes.

I was there in no time, but something bothered me. Everything was still in its place, but I could make out a musty smell of smoke, which made me cringe.

I looked around silently and indeed, about half a mile away, a huge gray cloud was making its way through the trees.

My heart pounded alarm and without thinking twice, I sprinted in the opposite direction from which the possible fire was coming.

At the moment I didn't care about my growling stomach, nor my hut.

After a while of running I could hear voices in the direction I was walking towards.

I slowly walked slowly in order to be able to listen to every sound, no matter how small. But suddenly a soldier was standing in front of me who looked at me with a grin. I was wearing only a thin, white, yet dirty dress that hung airily up to my knees.

Uncomfortable, that's how I felt. I had never had closer contact with men, how could I (?).

"Well, who do we have here?" The soldier mockingly said.

I just widened my eyes, not to mention my mouth, which had been open since I saw him.

After a short time, more and more soldiers came and looked at me, but I was frozen. People were so fascinating but at the same time so nauseating. The soldier, who was still grinning stupidly at me, stepped closer and grabbed my hand.

"The little one must have forgotten how to speak. But she is breathtakingly beautiful. Take a look at her, guys!" He asked his men to examine me too, which is why they all took a few steps closer.

"Hey!" I heard it from not far away, in the woods.

The one whose voice it was now also ran towards me, which made me take some steps back.

"Don't touch her! She's an innocent one!" The soldier who was now standing in my immediate vicinity.

Fortunately for me, he now attracted the attention that had been on me. He pushed the others away from me, who then stumbled backwards. Then he grabbed my wrist and I felt a heat rise in me instantly, it was a completely new feeling.

I looked into a prominent face with defined cheekbones, which made him look very masculine to me. He looked like someone that could be royal, naturally beautiful.

He looked at me out of his intense brown eyes in which I could have lost myself in, in a matter of seconds.

He raised his hand, pushed a strand of hair out of my face and touched my cheek in the process. All I could do was to stay still like a statue and admire his figure.

His dark black hair that was a little messed up and some strands also graced his face.

A cold but pleasant shiver ran down my spine from his touch. I was fascinated by his looks, it seemed like he looked like a friendly devil. Although his features seemed absolutely flawless, he radiated a dark aura. I couldn't see it but I could sense it. He also had broad shoulders from which two muscular arms protruded. He was looking like a God next to me.

"She really is quite acceptable. Nevertheless, she has to come with me." He pulled me by the arm to the horses, which were not far away at a campsite.

Damn. I should have run faster, now I have to go with them if I don't get a chance to get out of here. I blamed myself silently.

The men were in the majority and clearly superior to me.

The Soldier's grin was quite strong and even when we were already in one of the tents, he was still holding onto my arm tightly. After we I hissed in pain.

Besides all that, I was still totally in shock as it was my first close contact with people in many years.

Suddenly he stopped and took a close look at my body, me not really thinking anything, because I first had to get used to people's behavior and body language.

With his gaze he stopped where he had gripped me tightly to probably prevent me from running away, but slowly the pressure got too big and hurt. Immediately he let go, but he took a closer look at the now yellow spots that adorned my arm.

They weren't the only wounds I had, I kept getting injured and accordingly had blood wounds or scratches all over the place. We were alone in the tent and he finally broke the silence.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, pointing to my wounds, like the blood stain on my dress, over my stomach. At first I didn't know what he meant but then I understood. He meant if I had been hurt by someone else.

"Nobody." I answered clearly and looked up into his wonderful eyes that flashed at me.

"What's your name?" Was his next question.

"Y/n. I think." I guessed to myself.

My name had never been relevant, but I still had vague memories from my childhood and how I was often addressed by that name back then. In the other moment, his gaze softened. He put a strand behind my ear again, as he had earlier. My attention went to his full lips which he twisted into a small grin.

“You are beautiful, Y/n. You will be mine I promise it. Nobody's going to get you." He said with determination.

What did he say? Was that just a compliment? If so, then they sound really nice, but actually I didn't really know what they meant to me. Although I could speak his language fluently and had a good vocabulary to choose from, I wasn't up to date.

"What do you mean?" I was taught to ask when you didn't understand someone, so I did just that.

"Means that we will take you to the palace where you can be sold." He suddenly changed his face and removed his hand from my cheek where it had lingered for a moment.

He had just changed his mind from one second to the other. He wanted me to be his and complimented me, so what now? Now he just wanted to drag me along and let me get sold? Great, I probably wouldn't find a way out on all these soldiers.

"But, to whom should I be sold?" If it was to my advantage I would accept it, then I would no longer be alone and would finally be among people who were equal to me.

"To some rich snob." He simply replied.

I was surprised at his sudden change of heart, but it was the chance for me to finally escape this hole. It had made me sink deeper and deeper until that point. I was redeemed.

"You have to change. We'll stay here one more night before we leave." He stepped away from me and took a white dress down from a kind of drawer, to give it to me afterwards.

A little baffled, I stood there and took the soft fabric towards me. It was soft and embroidered with small flowers.

"Thanks, where should I change and where should I sleep?" I asked briefly.

"Change here. There's a bed back there, behind the curtain. You will sleep with me, I don’t want you to run away." He answered less summarily.

Only after a short moment I could understand what he wanted from me. He was still standing right in front of my feet and looking down at me.

"So I'm supposed to change here and now?" I asked with disbelief in my voice.

"Yes, you should." He persisted.

I suspected he wouldn't give in, so I told him to at least turn around. Then he innocently raised his hands to shoulder height and obeyed my request. When he let his hands fall again, I pushed my dirty dress off my body, which meant that I stood in front of him, completely bare for a moment. Fortunately, he was standing with his back turned to me. But even if not, I would probably have obeyed, because I didn't know whether I corresponded to the typical image of women and had never had unpleasant situations like this before. That's why I never had a reason to be ashamed of my body. But as I stood in front of him I realized how important it actually was to be able to see someone like that.

I quickly slipped into the fresh dress, which clung to my thin body and my delicate curves. It actually looked very pretty, but I could hardly judge it because I still had no taste for fashion.

"You can turn around." I wanted to point out, but my words got stuck in my throat when I noticed that he had already turned around.

I had focused on my dress the whole time and trusted it. Obviously this was a mistake.

-to be continued-

[bubbleteaa]

Destroy her heart [Miya Atsumu x Reader]

Part I | Part II | Part III

destroy her heart;; pairing: miya atsumu x reader, slight sakusa kiyoomi x reader fandom: haikyuu!! warnings: angst. cursing. swearing. suggestive themes. some nsfw.  word count: 5K

a/n: thank you so much guys! I never thought that the first part was really going to get that attention. I decided to make this as a three part-fic. Again, thank you so much! I want to clearify that my image of Atsumu it’s very different that the one that I show on this fic. He’s baby! Sorry if you have thought that I don’t like the character or that I want to gave him this “fuckboy” vibe. This is just a fic. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Please stay safe <3 I love you. 

Summary: He destroys your heart.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

“Who are you?” You turned slightly to find a pair of black eyes staring at the activity you were doing. You had just swept Atsumu's apartment and were mopping it. Your face was covered with a white mouth cap, your hair held in a ponytail, you had an apron and cleaning gloves.

The stranger awaited your answer, with his hands in his pockets and a mask covering his mouth.

"Uh, L/N. L/N Y/N” you replied softly before blinking a couple of times when the tall boy frowned a little “Are you looking for Tsumu?”

"You're his girlfriend?" he asked you. You shook your head "Why are you cleaning his apartment? Is he paying you to do it?" You denied again. Before you could answer, he asked you something again "What disinfectant do you use?"

“Uh, take it easy” You smiled a little behind the mask. The boy looked at you as you shook your head. “You ask a lot of questions. What is your name?"

“Sakusa” he snapped.

“Only Sakusa, huh? Okay” you agreed “I'm not his girlfriend. I clean his apartment because, apparently, he suffers from blindness, and he is not realizing that it is a disaster. And well, I also clean it better than him, so” you shrugged as you looked at him, his eyes kept inspecting your covered face “And the disinfectant I use ... well, the one I'm using now is that Tsumu had it at home, not very good. But the one I use in my apartment is the-”

“How often do you clean your apartment?” You blinked at the question.

"Uh... per week?"

"Per day" he said.

"Well... I don't clean it thoroughly every day, but I always try to sweep and mop when I get up and go to sleep. I don't like dust to accumulate”

You looked at how his eyes looked at you with a small sparkle, then averted his gaze and closed his eyes.

Sakusa moved his fingers inside his pocket, feeling strange tickles on his chest. It was strange, he hadn't met you before, he didn't know you existed until a few minutes ago. But your answers, how you cleaned, the care you had. Did it mean something? How had Ratsumu met someone who cleaned so well? Someone who knew how important hygiene was?

Unlike Atsumu, he did not join the college volleyball team immediately. He waited a semester to enter, because he wanted to survive the "fire test" of the first semester. If he did it, he would enter the volleyball team. The positive thing was that his grades were not as mediocre as in high school and he managed to survive the first period. Maybe that's why he didn't know you.

And he also didn't really know why you were cleaning Miya's apartment.

And it smelled good. It smelled good to be a bad disinfectant. He deduced that you had cleaned Atsumu's house once or twice before to know how to clean it.

“Kiyoomi” he said.

“Sorry?”

“Kiyoomi. Sakusa Kiyoomi. I will leave and return in an hour, is that enough? ” he asked you, as if he were longing for an answer “Tell Miya that I will see him in practice. See you later” he agreed before going out the door.

You smiled and nodded. You kept cleaning up thinking about what had just happened.

You thought you had made a new friend, for some reason.

"Learn from yesterday"

"This looks like a pigsty" you heard Sakusa's voice, instead of sounding upset, it sounded sad "How do you feel?" he asked, entering your room. You raised your face a little , which was previously hidden between the cushions of your bed, -the ones that still smelled of Miya Atsumu-colony , the strands of your hair h/c covered your face. You were sure it didn't look that bad, maybe there were books lying on the floor, just like your clothes, you were sure there were one or two bowls of ramen on the nightstand, but nothing more.

You wanted to answer, but your voice stagnated in your uvula. Before you could look at him again, Kiyoomi leaned in slightly so he could remove the hair that covered your forehead and your eyes. You felt the tears begin to flow almost spontaneously.

"You don't always have to answer all my questions" he clarified, before starting to carefully braid your hair "I'm going to prepare a bath for you and I'll clean your room, try to relax a little"

You started to sob, but you didn't hug him. It was enough that Kiyoomi touched your hair so lovingly and took his time to dedicate it to you.

"Sorry, Yoomi" you muttered between sobs, rubbing your wrists against your cheeks and eyes "I'm so sorry" you apologized, again. Sakusa pursed his lips a little, irritated that you were apologizing to him when you were not to blame for anything.

He didn't say anything to you as he continued to watch you keep breaking a little more in front of him. As you kept pushing the fact that you could be strong when you knew full well that you were no longer just broken, you were tearing yourself apart, inside and out.

Everything because of an idiot he thought.

Kiyoomi patted your head a few times, trying to calm you down. After a few minutes, you stopped crying. There were still a couple of sighs coming from your lips, which trembled whenever they parted. You already had a few weeks like that. Your teachers were worried about you, your classmates were worried about you, your friends, everyone.

Even Atsumu was worried about you, but he, unlike Kiyoomi, didn’t go to check on you. If you ate, if you were getting enough sleep, if you were giving a lot of thought to the whole thing.

But he have never entered your room before. He always stayed after practices, cleaned your apartment as he did with you before, prepared something for you to eat and left it at the door. You never opened immediately, you waited to hear his steps go away and you opened slightly, you took the plate, you ate and you left it exactly where he had left it before.

He cared about you, but he wasn't going to break into your personal space, not until that day. Not until after three weeks without seeing your face.

He just couldn't take it anymore.

He did not know everything that had happened, he found out from Atsumu himself.

“Oi, Miya. Where is her?”

“Where's who, Omi Omi?” He answered without looking at him, at that moment he was practicing his passes, Kiyoomi stared at him.

“Y/N”

“Ah” let out a small sigh before looking at him "Well ..., she must be in her apartment"

“Why haven't I seen her?”

“Because I made a mistake and broke her heart, I guess” he replied.

Everyone agreed that Miya did feel things for you. And everyone knew that you had feelings for Atsumu. Was that something so strong? Yes. It was so strong that you refused to accept that even being as you were, you still wanted to be with him. Even after knowing that you were only something for one night - and that everything they did together was to demonstrate something so stupid - you still wanted him.

Atsumu and Kiyoomi had not spoken either.

As he was leaving you for a few seconds, in order to prepare a bath, he thought about why he helped you in that way. Whenever he was next to you, his fingers itched, not in the sense that they were dirty, but that they sting as if they needed to be caressed. Once he tried to hold his own hand while being with you, and he realized that the feeling was not detached from him.

He wanted it to be your hand.

He wanted it to be you.

"Yoomi?" your voice got him out of his thoughts, you were on the edge of the door, your hair was still braided, he could notice now, thanks to the bathroom light, the dark bags under your eyes, your puffy eyelids, your pink nose. You were a mess. His fingers began to prick him immediately.

I want to hold you, I want to help you.

“The bath is ready. I'll go clean your room” he agreed, walking to the door, he stopped right in front of you “Call me if you need anything”

He walked to your room before you answered him.

❥•°❀°•༢

“Hey Tsumu” the Hyogo boy stopped reading your notes to turn around and smile at you. You were wearing his hoodie, your hair was held in a messy bun and your eyes seemed to close from exhaustion “Are you sure you want to sleep on the couch? You can sleep in my bed, you must be tired from practice”

“Nah, c'mere” he clicked his tongue and extended his arms towards you in a childish way “wanna cuddle right now”

“You are such a baby, I swear” even though you tried to sound annoyed, your smile didn't let you lie to him. You walked up to him and before you could sit down next to him, Atsumu had grabbed your wrist to lie down next to him, holding you tightly “Uhm, I see that someone is touch starving” you teased.

“Shut yer mouth” his voice was deep, hot breath against your ear “Why yer using my hoodie? Missed me?”

“No dumbass, I was doing the laundry and my hoodies are still wet. Plus, yours more" you paused suddenly, blushing and avoiding his gaze at all costs “yours is special I guess”

You are so cute he thought. A smiled creeped in his face as he lay on the couch and laid you on his chest. He carefully grasped the garter that held your hair and between your pouts, released the strands of your hair to caress them. Why are you so cute? He thought again, this time your hands were trying to push the setter away from your head, your eyes were shining with love and at the same time, they were drowning from sleep.

"You are cute when you yawned" he blurted out without much thought the moment you yawned again, your cheeks started turning pink from his words "You are really cute, Y/N-chan"

“Only for you, Sangwoo”

Atsumu wanted to take your face in his hands and kiss you, but he could not fall before your charms. He had fought for so long against his feelings for you, he was consenting to them, how could he not be? He always thought of you, he was almost always next to you, your apartment seemed more like their apartment.

It was as if you were a couple without really being one.

"Who the fuck is Sangwoo? Is he hot?" he laughed before pinching your cheeks.

“Maybe. But he is dead”.

"Are you trying to kill me or something?"

"Killing you with my cuteness, maybe" you pouted your lips before hiding in his hoodie. You felt his heart beating harder against you. One of your hands was playing with his dyed hair, the other one was holding his hand.

Please, please, just hold me. You wished.

Please, be this cute only for me. He wished.

❥•°❀°•༢

Memories.

In these moments, you lived on memories.

Memories of how you came to his apartment on Friday nights to watch cult movies, memories of how you went to his practices and games, memories of how he gave you his sweater and memories of when you two cooked together.

You hid your face in your hands, refreshing it with water. Immediately, you felt again as your lips began to tremble. You couldn't control it, but you were fed up. Tired of crying and not being able to control it.

You felt pathetic.

Not being with Atsumu was different, the silence was nothing compared to Atsumu's company, his tended to be overwhelming, there were always people murmuring when the boy walked by you, when he took your hand, when you sat in the cafe together and fed you with a smile. The whispers were always heard.

Now you knew why.

You forgave him, though. But you couldn't talk to him, every time you looked at his photos, memories of the night they spent together landed in your head. The way he kissed the complexion of your skin, the way his hands slid down your cheeks, the way they held your neck and hips, the words he whispered in your ear and against your skin.

Of course you couldn't look him in the eye. You had spent so much time idealizing the situation in your head, how good it would feel, how nice it was to make love with someone who corresponded your feelings, to be with Miya Atsumu.

It was a bucket of cold water that he told you later. And you needed time.

Would it hurt to see him again? Possibly. You weren't ready to do it. There were two years in which you dreamed of him, and your dreams were destroyed in minutes.

You plunged into the water, feeling how your braided hair began to moisten, feeling how your tears are drowning in the warm water.

You weren't ready to see him again.

Not in the eyes.

Not knowing what he had said that night. Not knowing what had happened between you.

You just couldn't.

❥•°❀°•༢

"Live for today"

Atsumu entered the classroom as usual, sat at his table and waited for the teacher to arrive. For the four weeks you hadn't been to class, the sit next to him remained empty. No one wanted to take your place, no one dared.

It was your place. At his side. Always by his side.

The truth was, he hadn't been with someone after he slept with you. He had done nothing more than take and stay two and even three more hours practicing. Trying to get you out of his head.

But it never worked.

When it was daytime, he thought about your smile, how good it felt to have his lips on yours, how his clothes ended up smelling of your perfume. How you were so small under him, how your eyes were filled with a different sparkle that night. He thought about your figure, your laugh, the “I love you”’s that you repeated not once, but several times while you moaned, while you kissed him.

And at night, he thought about how your tears rolled down your cheeks, he thought about how much you trembled. He thought about the damage he had done to you.

He couldn't forget it, not even with alcohol.

He hadn't spoken to many people since then either, he had had some issues, especially with his team after having sex with his libero's ex-girlfriend. It was resolved through discussion, but the tension was still there. The same with Kiyoomi.

But with Kiyoomi it was worse.

The countenance changed from that moment with the boy. You realized that Omi Omi had feelings for you.

“What?” Atsumu's voice boomed in the gym, he went back to practicing his serves while Sakusa looked at him from a distance “Do you want to stay to practice?”

“Y/N has not left her room” he said suddenly. Atsumu's eyes were fixed on the volley ball and he refused to look at the black-haired man again “She hasn't been going to school. I haven't seen her eat, I don't know if she's really eating. I don't know if she slept. I don't know how bad she is- ”

"How do you know all that?" Miya's voice sounded hoarse, different. Annoyance, anger, rage. Jealousy. Hatred. He squeezed the object in his hands. "Are you sleeping in her apartment or something?"

“I stay most of the time cleaning and doing chores. Unlike you, I care about her” he replied, moving closer to the blond “It's your fault that she is like this "

“How did you get into her apartment?” he stared at him. His gaze was dangerous.

"Spare key" he replied simply, looking him in the eye "How much are you interested? Anyway, I'm sure you haven't even taken the time to call her”

"Why the hell do you have a spare key?" his voice began to sound deeper and deeper. Atsumu dropped the ball and it bounced a few times.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Don't you-"

"Are you trying to take advantage of the situation? Are you waiting for her to open the door, wrapped in a sheet, crying, asking for your help? We both know you like Y/N. Do you think I haven't noticed how you look at her? What the hell did you think when you entered her home? Did you want to fuck her? You're a damn pig, Omi Omi. Do you think that playing with her feelings you can have her? She is mine-"

"You are the pig. You were the one who took advantage of her. You were the one who played with her feelings” the words made Atsumu stop dead in his tracks. He clenched his fists. “Yours? Y/N is not yours. She never was and I doubt that at some point she will be, not after this”

There was silence after that.

Weren't you from him?

Were you with Kiyoomi now?

Why washe  thinking about that?

He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to push the thoughts out of his head. His gaze fell for a second at the entrance and he immediately veered away.

Only to return almost to the second.

There you were. With your bag hanging from your left shoulder, your hair was loose, you had on the glasses you used to read from time to time. Atsumu stared at you. You looked at him without even noticing.

Both of their hearts stopped for a few beats.

She/He looks fine. Like nothing happened.

You lowered your gaze a bit before walking to your sit next to him. At his side. Where you belonged

The moment you sat down, you took out the notes you had written in a separate notebook, all sent by some of your colleagues, most of whom you had helped in more technical classes. You didn't even look at Atsumu for a second.

He look  immediately your hands. Then your hair, then your face in side profile.

I had missed you.

Were you always that beautiful?

Why don't you look at me?

Y/N.

Look at me.

Please.

Please Y/N.

I missed you.

I need you.

Talk to me.

“Do you want me to talk to you?” Atsumu blinked. He averted his gaze slightly before placing his cheek in the palm of his hand and resting his elbow on the bench. You took silence as his response “Hello, Atsumu”

“Why didn't you come?” he knew the answer. But he wanted to hear it with your words. He wanted you to humiliate him, to hate him, to give him a reason to beg your forgiveness. He wanted you, even out of courtesy, to answer him.

“I wasn't ready,” you replied simply, with a firm voice.

“Ready for what?”

“To treat you like always even when you broke my heart. I'm trying to fulfill what I promised you” you turned your face a little, without looking into his eyes “I'm sorry for failing you, I was missing a long time. I will try to catch up as quickly as possible”

“No” he said immediately, watching as you lightly squeezed the notebook in your hands, "No... don't worry about it, take the time you need. Uhm…” He was speechless when he looked up and observed the professor entering the auditorium.

“Thanks, Atsumu”

Why did you thank me? Thank you for breaking your heart?

You didn’t talk to him for the rest of the lecture.

Atsumu and you did not talk about what happened. You did not even approached to him in class for the next days. He was looking at you, hoping you started the conversation. Sometimes he gave you glances just to notice that your eyes were glued to the teacher at all time.

You were mad. Hurt. Broken.

And it was his fault.

Her legs were moving nervously. The last time you had properly talked, the only words that came out of his mouth were cruelty and lies. Since then, to forget his words, he drank more than usual. He went out more to the club. The hours in the practices were extended. He hit the ball with supernatural force.

He was upset. He was sad. Hewas broken.

And it was his fault.

When the class was over, he watched as you calmly took your things and got up from the desk you shared with him.

"Uh, L/N-san"

His ears focused on listening to your conversation with your Economy buddy while he kept his belongings.

“Yes?” Your voice sounded normal. It was not broken or trembling like when it broke your heart “Is something wrong?”

“We should organize ourselves to work in the workshop”

“Oh yeah!” Atsumu looked at you for a few seconds. You were smiling at him while you were looking for your cell phone in your bag “Do you have a free period? We can go to the university café”

Atsumu frowned slightly. Before the disaster, he hadn't paid attention to the guys around you. Or how they looked at you. Or how they addressed you.

Because he scared all the boys who tried to get close to you.

“No, but, we can see each other next Wednesday at the cafe after school” he smiled at you.

It was jealousy.

The boy was always quiet, but you had never complained about him. You were helping him where you could and the economics teacher had paired them that semester together. Actually, you had said that it was quite nice. It was difficult talking to him, after all, the boy was embarrassing.

He shook his head, trying not to pay attention to your conversation. Your hands landed on the desk .

“Do you want to go to the cafe?” Atsumu asked “If he couldn't, we can go together-"

To catch up. I really miss you .

“Y/N” both turned to the known voice. It was Sakusa. Atsumu furrowed his brow when he saw him enter the hall and up the stairs to where they were "Let’s go"

"Oh Yoomi" you smiled at the event "Actually, Atsumu asked me if I wanted to go to the cafe, I was about to answer him"

"I'll wait for you outside, then" Kiyoomi looked at the blonde and withdrew, at no time did he lower his mask and neither did he remove his hands from his pockets. He walked back to the door, not looking back.

Yoomi?

“Today I can't, Yoomi is going to help move some things from the apartment-"

“What?” he interrupted, opening his eyes a little “Are you going to move or something?”

"No. In fact, I am going to remodel? I need something different"

“The apartment looks good as it is” he whispered, somewhat uncomfortable. “Why would you change it?”

"Many memories, I suppose"

Oh.

That.

“Ah, okay… well, I guess you should go. You don't want Yoomi to be irritated.” He spat out the boy's name with some anger, but apparently you didn't notice it.

You smiled and nodded a little. “Yes, well. See you later, Atsumu "

“Fucking hell” he murmurs while watched you leave the room. You were leaving in front of him. I've needed to talk to you. To walk with you. To be with you.

He needed you.

But he didn't deserve you.

❥•°❀°•༢

He was drinking again.

“What do you prefer? Win a million dollars or find the love of your life?” Miya asked you while he ate the last onigiri.

“I would choose the million dollars”

“Uhm” you laughed lightly before taking a sip of your drink “And why would you choose that?” Her brown eyes looked at you curiously.

“Because money attracts people, duh” you replied before looking at him “And if he comes to me for money, then he is not the love of my life. I would know that he is the love of my life if he stays with me before and after winning the million” you shrugged your shoulders and you looked at him with a smike" As simple as that "

"You are so cheesy, did you know that?"

"I'm just honest, Tsumu~"

"I still don't understand why you don't have a boyfriend, Y/N" He avoided looking at you when he said it, his trunk-colored gaze stuck to the drink in front of him “Are the others guys blind or what?”

“Well, you scare all the guys that approach me” you didn't sound upset, to tell the truth, he could feel your smile between your answer "But I guess I'm still looking for the right one. Or knowing him. Or talking with him right now. Who knows"

Atsumu looked you in the eyes, a soft and sincere smile was adorning your face. Your eyes were fixed on his. There was a particular glow, something unusual in how you were looking at him at the time. Like you're confessing a big secret.

"So cheesy"

I missed you.

“What are you doing here?” his voice sounded agitated, you were in the frame of the door of the gym looking at him “Isn't it late?”

“That is why I am here, Tsumu. You must rest and the only way you rest is to get you out of this gym” you sighed looking at him.

"Ah" he laughed lightly before shaking his head "You care about me"

“Of course I care about you, apparently you don't care about yourself, fool” you defended yourself before frowning “Let's go, it's really late, Tsumu”

“Thank you” he said, smiling at you. “For worrying”

The taste of alcohol seemed like water to be high. It was not enough.

You were more than enough.

"Cheetos or Doritos?"

"They are both cardboard, Atsumu"

"What!?" He opened his eyes to drop the packages he was holding. You instantly burst out laughing "Really?"

"Yes Tsumu"

"Uhm ... I guess I like cardboard."

Your smile.

Your laughter.

"Can you come over, please?" He was not thinking when he called you. It was very late, and early in the morning. Your apartment and his were not far away " I need to talk to you about something"

"We can talk on the phone," you sounded sleepy.

"I... I really need you to come for a moment, please" he practically fought against his voice, he was so drunk that he didn't process his feelings well "Please, Y/N. I've missed you a lot”

You bit your lower lip before answering.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes”

❥•°❀°•༢

Why did you go?

Why?

You asked yourself the same thing over and over again while your lips were glued to Miya's hair. It was dawn when Atsumu stopped stroking your bare back 

“I love you” he murmured. Your heart was still broken “I love you more than anything in this world” he squeezed you in his arms, hiding his face in the valley of your breasts. He left wet kisses against your skin “I missed you so much, I needed you so much” his voice broke, before beginning to touch you with need, hoping you were real “Look at me, please. You haven't looked at me in weeks. I need you to look at me” your eyes trembled with fear before looking him in the eyes, Atsumu kissed your lips immediately “I'm so sorry, Y/N "

You answered the kiss, between sobs. His hands began to squeeze the flesh on your hips, before gently biting down on your lower lip. Atsumu tasted like dry vodka, you tasted like cold tea. You moaned softly when he inserted his tongue into your oral cavity and his hands found the space between your legs.

“So wet, already?” he hissed in a hoarse voice, he lowered his kisses down your neck as he bit, licked, kissed and sucked your skin s/c, wanting to leave marks for everyone to see that you belonged to him “You are drenched” he lowered his kisses to your breasts, attacking them with licks while one of his hands caressed all your femininity.

"Tsumu" you moaned, squeezing your legs a little, trapping his hand in your pussy.

"You like this, don't ya?" he kissed you again “You like having me pleasuring you? Begging you to come here? Desiring you? Loving you? Missing you?” He gently pulled your jaw, thrusting his tongue in again, without closing his eyes. You moaned in the kiss and lightly denied "You are liar"

"Hope for the future"

“Don't you dare say that what happened last night was a mistake” you said without looking at him, squeezing your hands a little “Don't you dare say it, Atsumu”

“I'm sorry Y/N”

“Don't do it”

“Do you love me, Y/N ?” You were fighting against your feelings, against the truth. Atsumu looked at you with tired, sad eyes

“That is irrelevant now.”

“I love you” you assured

“No... it was the emotions of the moment. You got confused, who would love someone like me?”

“Don't do it. Don't try to manipulate me into making me feel horrible and tell you that I love you over and over again, only to be break me again. Don't do it, Tsumu”

“You and Kiyoomi have something?” he asked, pressing against him “Do you love him?”

“He is my friend, Atsumu”

“No, he does not want to be your friend” he took your face in his hands “He wants to have you against his body, just as we are now” you blinked confused, denying “He wants everything we have. He wants to take you away from me”

“Are you listening to what you say, Atsumu?”

Of course I'm listening to myself.

I do not want to lose you.

I can not lose you.

I must not lose you.

“Of course!” he screamed, hitting the pillow next to you, you froze “And it's your fault!”

"My fault?"

You felt something strange in your chest. It was rage.

Before he could go on, you opened your mouth.

“Do you know something, Tsumu? I wish I had never met you” those words stopped him “Then, I wouldn't be here, humiliating myself. Then, there would not need to cry over you, no need to want you, no need to miss you, no need to loving you” your voice started breaking “No need for forgotten promises, for lies. No need for touch starving hugs, no need of pain and tears, no need to fucking crying until I fall asleep. No need for nothing. Nothing” you shouted, crying “Do you even realize how broken I am? How stupid do I look? How pathetic I am? ”

You were lying. You are lying.

Don't lie to me.

No.

I shouldn't destroy her heart.

But I can't help it.

That words hurted.

I don't want to hurt you.

Please.

“You are right” he whispered “I wish I wouldn't met you either. You are so pathetic, so idiotic. I wish you fucking disappear or something, vanish” He was destroying you.“Get the fuck out of here” he said, coldly “And fuck with Omi Omi if you fucking want. Trash mean to be together, right?” He was not sober. Not at all. “You should fucking disappear for the whole existence; I don't give a single fuck”he stops touching you “Just fucking leave ”

The tears didn't come out in front of him. You grabbed your clothes and started dressing yourself.

“And, Y/N” you stopped, waiting for whatever he was supposed to say “Leave and close the damn door”

And that's what you did. You close the damn door.

Your heart.

[sailorfate]

Beware of the Nemphians (Horror Story)

My sister Justice is an animal science major and her 2 best friends were assisting her with her research on animal behavior. When they went to Olympic National Park to investigate why the animals around the area are migrating away from the park so quickly, they soon find the answer. This is all the information I was able to acquire from her journal.

“Hm. Do I want to wear my hair in a low pony, 2 buns, 2 buns at the top with the rest out, 1 bun, or maybe-“

“Oh my God, Justice. If you don’t decide already. You’re not even going anywhere today. Don’t you have to decide what you’re going to do your research on by tomorrow anyway?” Shayla rudely said as she laid on my bed scrolling through Instagram.

As I wet my hair with my spray bottle, applied gel to the front and brushed my hair into a low pony, I turned around from my mirror to face Shay and responded with, “Actually, I plan on taking selfies.”

Now that I think about it, I do need to get started on this research. It’s not really mandatory, but it sure would look good on my resume. Shay and Damion (my other best friend), wanted to tag along to gain experience, too.

“Okay, you’re right. I do need to think about where to go for this research. Now, I was thinking about going to Death Valley to see how the different wild life there interact with one another.”

“Well, for one, we live in D.C., and that’s too far, and secondly, it’s where Charles Manson was arrested. NO MA’AM. I don’t need none of those evil energies around me. NEXT.” Shay dramatically said as she made a shooing away gesture with both hands.

“Um, maybe I heard it wrong, but I thought he died.”

“He did. But I don’t want his spirit following me back to my dorm. NO MA’AM.”

“Oh, here you go with this supernatural bull. Please, not today, Shay. No more conspiracy theories, okay?” I responded getting a bit annoyed. I hate when people start talking like they have top secret information on things they never seen first hand. I love Shay to death, but sometimes I wonder what she do on her free time.

“Okay. Okay. Geez. No more. I promise. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Shay responded in a teasing tone.

“I’m not scared, you nincompoop. Why would I be scared of something that doesn’t exist? Anyway, I think I’m going to research why so many animals are migrating away so quickly from Olympic National Park. Some researchers say they’ve never seen anything like it.”

Shay stoop up and started pacing. She didn’t say a thing. I normally expect some insane response from her, but I’m honestly shoc-

Before I could finish my thought, the spirit of delusional inevitably possessed Shay’s tongue and she blurted out, “Ugh! Sorry! I can’t hold it any longer. Now I heard that-“

Oh dear God. I knew it was coming.

“Uh uh! Stop right there!” I said stopping her mid sentence.

“But-“

“Nope! Keep it in the forums! You don’t have to come, you know.”

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m leaving your gullible ass alone. Plus, I can tidy up my journalism skills.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? Damion was coming to be the camera man. You know, to “tidy up” his videography skills.” Dammit, self. Stop smiling like a school girl.

Shay started to smile like the Grinch and said, “Oooooh you sneaky little devil.”

“Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go. See you later, girl.” I said as I gently pushed her back toward the door.

“What did I sa-“

Before she could finish the question, I slammed the door in her face.

“You damn scaredy cat! He’s not going to wait forever you know!!” she yelled outside my door.

“Yeah. Yeah. Tell it to the “boogeyman” under your bed. See you tomorrow, big mouth”. I yelled back as I walked toward my cluttered desk. God, my life is a mess. When did I get this messy? Guess I’ll straighten up a bit.

After I organized the clutter, I texted Damion to tell him about the plan.

It was finally October 12th, 2018. I decided to blow dry my hair and just wear it in a pony so it won’t get in the way. I put on a basic olive green top, a blue jean jacket and jeans that’s the same color, and an old pair of white tennis shoes. After I packed my brown satchel with a small magnifying glass, a tape recorder, binoculars, pens and pencils, a travel sized water bottle, and a notebook, I went to the Starbucks around the corner to meet with Shay and Damion.

“Damn, how did y’all get here that fast?! AND y’all ordered without me?” I said in a slightly higher pitched tone.

Shay looked at me up and down and then looked back at her phone and responded with, “Look here, black NANCY DREW....you were supposed to be here 35 minutes ago.”

“Well, let’s not get technical.” I wittingly said.

After looking at their outfits, I seen that Shay had on her Howard Uni sweat shirt, blue jeans, and red vans. Damion had on a Howard Uni burgundy snap back, his black Howard Uni tee, a burgundy bomber jacket, black jeans, old pair of white Nike’s, and his Canon Vixia camera around his neck that I got him for Christmas last year. It’s not my fault I’m the only one with fashion sense in this group that don’t just wear school merch.

“Are y’all done yet? Cus I’m tryna get my detective on. I’m kind of excited!” Damion said while getting up to stretch.

Shay and I just shook our heads and headed toward the door.

“What? Y’all know I don’t have a life outside of football.” He said as he followed us. “And anime.” He quietly continued, as if people were listening.

After we hopped in my 2016 Jeep Wrangler, we were on our way to Olympic National Park.

We finally arrived and as soon as we got out of the car, we immediately smelled something that wasn’t quite right. It was the scent of death. That’s the only way I could put it. The smell of rotten flesh. I scoped the area with my binoculars to get an idea as to what can explain this god awful smell. Not an animal in sight. Only thing visible were the few stars and the full moon that illuminated the sky, and the branches of the 100ft maple tree. As I looked a little further, I noticed a black, tarry like substance that I haven’t seen before. Everything in me told me to turn back, but the science side of me told me to investigate.

As I started walking toward the track that the substance left behind, I heard Shay yell, “Justice, have you lost your damn mind?!”

I turned around and responded with, “What are you talking about!? I came here to see what’s been happening with these animals and this substance just might give me a clue.”

“Justice, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Shay. I mean, you don’t know if it’s airborne or what.” Damion said with a worried look on his face.

I shifted my gaze back and forth to Damion and Shay and told them, “Look, you guys. I understand if you don’t want to help, but I’m going. So, give me the camera and the extra notebook.”

As I began walking their direction to collect the items, Shay sighed and said, “No. No. We’ll help.”

“Oui? Shay, when did you start speaking French, because I’m sure you didn’t just say “we”. You know, the word that means more than one person is involved.”

“Damion!” Shay said as she hit him on his arm.

“What? I was just playing. Kinda. Sorta. Not really. But I’ll go. Just for 10 minutes, and I’m dragging both of y’all out.”

“You guys really don’t have to. I’ll go and be quic-“

“Girl, shut the hell up before I change my mind!” Shay exclaimed as she started walking ahead.

“Yeah, what she said”. Damion said as he began walking toward me. “And Shay. I need to tell you something after we get back. It’s been on my mind for a while.” He continued as he walked ahead of me.

Tell me something? What does that mean? Could it be that-. No, Justice. Get a hold of yourself. Worry about that later. Now, you need to focus on the agenda at hand.

“Damn! Can y’all slow asses move any slower?! COME ON!” Shay impatiently yelled out.

When Damion and I got to her, the three of us continued down the trail. “Damion, are you recording?” I asked as I turned around to kneel down to get a closer look at the substance.

“Yeah. I got you. Is your head getting bigger, or is it just the camera adding 15 pounds?” Damion said while he bust into laughter.

“This is not the time for jokes. What the hell is this?” I said in disgust as I poked it with my pencil. It was the black, tarry substance again. It’s not uncommon to find weird kind of colors in a place like this, but the texture of it is what got me perplexed. I pulled out my magnifying glass and noticed that it was something moving inside. Like tiny particles that I shouldn’t be able to detect with the naked eye. I’ve never seen anything like it. What the hell is going on?

“Shay, can you write this down? I’m a bit busy at the moment.” Silence. Pure silence. She normally would say something snarky, but it was just...silence. I rose up from my kneeled position and turned around. “Shay?!” I yelled as I noticed that she wasn’t there. Damion turned around and started yelling her name too. “Did you even see her walk anywhere?!” I asked as I began to panic. “No. No, I didn’t hear a thing!”

As we both continued to shout her name, I reached into my bag for my binoculars.

“I’m getting worried, Justice. It isn’t like her to wander off at a place like this alone.” Damion said as he paced back and forth. “I know! I know! I’m going to see if I can see her with these!” I frantically responded. As I was scoping the area, all I seen was the regular terrain. Trees, moss, and more trees. Then I looked up a bit further to my right in the direction where the full moon was, and saw something up in the tree. I immediately fell to my knees.

“Justice! What’s wrong? What happened?!” What did you see?!” I know Damion was talking, but it was as if the world around me simultaneously stopped at the same time, and the only thing I could see was my best friend, Shay, getting her head decapitated and her skin being ripped clean off her body by a demon-alien like creature. It looked kind of like that thing from Jeepers Creepers, but uglier without wings. About 7 feet tall. Its gnarled fingers were at least 20 inches and they were all the same size. The finger nails were razor sharp, narrow and were about 10 inches. The only thing I could hear was my accelerated heartbeat that sounded like it would combust any minute.

I tried to put the binoculars down, but I couldnt move a muscle. I used every fiber of my being to make any sort of movement. Couldn’t even move my tongue to speak. My breathing is getting shallower by the minute. It’s as if that thing is controlling me somehow. Or maybe it’s my body’s natural response to danger. There was another demon like alien behind the one that just mutilated my best friend. I’m not sure how I just thought that so nonchalantly. Is this what they call ‘shock’? The second creature spotted me and smiled while putting its finger against its lips in a shushing gesture. It then mouthed some words and touched its throat with the other hand. Within a blink of an eye, they both disappeared into some type of portal with Shay’s remains. In that moment I was able to get up on my feet.

“JUSTICE!! JUSTICE! JUSTICE!!” Damion shouted as I rose to my feet. “I’ve been shouting your name and shaking you for the past 3 or so minutes!!”

3 minutes. It’s been 3 minutes.

As I turned around to face him, I emotionlessly said, “She’s dead. It killed her. She’s gone.” When I started to walk pass him, I heard him say, “What Justice?! I can’t hear you! Why are you mouthing words?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Mouthing words? What is he talking about? I turned around and yelled at him, “SHE’S DEAD. SHE’S GONE. THE CREATURE KILLED HER! I KNOW IT SOUNDS CRAZY, BUT WE HAVE TO GO!!”

“Justice, what are you saying?!?! Stop playing around, and use your voice! We still have to find Shay!” Damion responded with seriousness in his voice.

Use my voice? Wait. That thing! I-I-It did something to my voice somehow! I know it did. God, I sound like one of the crazies off the internet, but I know what I saw! I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not cra-

“Justice!” Damion exclaimed, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I immediately pulled out my notebook and wrote “She’s dead!! Shay!! This thing skinned her! And took her head!” I know it was damn near un-readable with the way I was shaking as I was writing, but I had to try. I showed it to Damion and he responded in confusion with, “What the hell are you talking about?! Why are you saying these things? How do you know she’s dead?”

As I was about to write my response, Damion eyes nearly bulged out his sockets, and he pushed me out the way as he seen the creature appear out of nowhere behind me. The 7 foot beast smiled from ear to ear and flashed its razor sharp teeth. It was at least a hundred. No. Hundreds. The thing then began to break out into a malicious laugh. It’s as if that abomination wanted that to happen. Within a blink of an eye, it took Damion into the portal.

“DAMION!!!!!!!!!!!! DAMIOOOOON!!!!!! YOU UGLY BASTARD. BRING HIM BACK!!!!!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!!!!!!!!!!” As I yelled his name like a raging banshee over and over, I seen a portal open about 10 ft from me, and one of the creatures came out with Damion.

“Damion! You’re aliv-“

“JUSTICE RUN! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN, AND DONT TURN BACK NO MATTER WHAT!!!!” Damion screamed as he coughed up blood.

“BUT-“

“JUST GO!”

As I reluctantly turned my back and began running, I heard Damion yell at the top of his lungs, “JUSTICE, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I LOVE YO-

My body wanted to run, but my heart told me to stop when I heard those words, and when I did, the only sound I was able to hear was my best friend, the man that I always loved, head fall onto the ground and the sound of his skin being ripped off.

I assume the sound of my voice fully came back when the 2 creatures went into the portal with Damion’s remains because the screams that I let out were so ear-piercing, that the few animals who were still in the area somewhere hiding started to run from fear. The only thing I was able to say was, “It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault” in a trance like state. I said that until I tired myself and the last thing I remember is me passing out.

That was the last thing my sister, Justice, wrote in her journal. Her unconscious body was found by a couple of joggers who were passing by and they immediately took her to the hospital. For the past day, she would randomly wake up and yell, “THEY KILLED THEM. THEY’RE GONE. THE CREATURES. THE ALIENS!” After being interrogated by police, they determined that she needed mental evaluation the more she talked about creatures, aliens, portals, and decapitated, skinless bodies. They searched the area, but wasn’t able to even find a trace of blood.

During my sister’s week stay at the mental hospital, she begged me to read the journal the last day I saw her. I knew she was working on something because every time I came to visit her, it was as if her fingers were moving at lightning speed. That’s all she would do. Write. I always told her to stop making up things like this if she ever wanted to get out of this hospital. But for some reason, on the last day I saw her, I decided to take the journal.

Later on that day, out of curiosity, I read a few pages and ended up reading the whole thing. I didn’t know what to think of it. It was all lies, right? The next day, I checked my mailbox and saw an envelope with no name on it. As soon as I read it, something in me told me to drive as fast as I can to the hospital.

When I arrived, one of the nurses told me they went to check on her, and they found her hanging lifeless like she’s been dead for days, even though they just seen her 30 minutes ago. The stench alone was enough to wake a mummy. The nurse told me she clutched the crucifix around her neck, and walked a little further in to grab the paper on the floor that was near the bed. It read:

“They’ll take your love

They’ll cause you pain

They’ll make sure that you’ll never sleep again

You’ll go insane

You’ll lose your mind

The ‘what if’s’ will keep you up at night

It doesn’t matter if youre not alone

They will still catch you and no one will know

No one will believe you

No one will care

All they will do is lock you up in here

You don’t know when you’ll be next

Or when a friend will end up dead

You just won’t know until.

But all you really need to know

Is that they’re real “

I let out a blood curdling scream and was escorted out from scaring the patients. I looked back at the mysterious letter that I received in my mailbox that read:

“This is all I know: They’re an ancient demon-alien hybrid that come from a planet 50 light years away called Nemphus. They’re a species known as Nemphians. It’s a certain ritual they have to do every 100 years to please their god, Zeranus. The ritual requires a full moon, blood from a hell hound being smeared around the area (the black substance), a group of 3, the head and skin of 2 human victims, and the battered, damaged soul of the other person (witness) in the group who were close to the victims. The witness always end up killing theirself due to the psychological torment and the isolation they endure from people not believing them. Once the witness kill their self, the Nemphian who killed the ones they loved, takes their soul, which rapidly age their corpse.

Having everything in the right place at the right time is tricky, so they keep track of full moons and look out for a group of 3 by themselves in an area outside. Preferably with a lot of trees. They track potential human victims through a form of mini portals called ‘The Looker’ that’s invisible to the naked eye.

Nemphian abilities: They can open portals from one place to another, ranging in size. Super strength. Can do certain spells and summonings. Can manipulate sound. “

The letter also had ancient copies of text and cases of missing people that goes back every 100 years. I then connected the dots and immediately knew what my sister meant. The journal. The poem. Now this mysterious letter. So, my sister was telling the truth. What is going on? All of this can’t be a coincidence. I think I’m actually starting to believe this stuff. If only I knew who sent the letter.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 1: First Impressions

(Banner made by the savior herself @tiostyles)

Harry X OFC (AU)

In which Blue, a perpetual wanderer, finds herself drawn to the mystery of Wolver Valley, and to a certain motorcycle-riding mechanic named Harry.

Read previous part here.

Author’s note: WELCOME TO WOLVER VALLEY. I hope y’all get the same vibe as I do from this place and these characters. Please like, reblog, and LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. Enjoy. Xx

Thank you to my lovely betas: @biteharrysthigh // @lilacobscure // @metinthehallway // @belle-ofthe-sea // @nofoookingway // @lyllibug // @justsaying20

Blue traveled back into town, balancing on the edge of the curb all the way. She hadn’t been in Wolver Valley for more than an hour before she’d seen everything Main Street had to offer: an old-school movie theater, some little boutiques, a diner, a florist, a bookstore, a record shop, a tattoo parlor, and something that looked suspiciously like a strip joint. Not even a cafe.

Deciding that she’d lugged her bag around for long enough, and finding that her strawberries were diminishing at an alarming rate, she made her way to the next block, where she’d caught sight of the Red Roof sign. She checked herself into a room, threw her duffel on the double bed, and stuck the rest of her fruit in the mini fridge. She left before she’d even noticed the pattern on the wallpaper.

As Harry said, The Five and Jive really was just around the corner. A little brick structure with a pot-holed parking lot and dying neon signs lighting up the front windows. Even at six in the evening, it was loud. Music and shouting filtered out through a wood-framed screen door.

Blue pushed her way inside and glanced around. A couple of pool tables, both of which were crowded around. Scratched up booths and a rather empty bar top. Blue swung herself up onto a stool and checked her pockets for cash.

“Oh, new face,” said a woman who appeared on the opposite side of the counter, bronze skin and full lips and cheerful dark eyes. “How exciting."

“Are you Leya?”

The woman looked taken aback. She raised an eyebrow as she leaned backward, toward the lines of bottles arranged on the glowing shelves behind her. “Who’s been talking about me?”

“Harry says hi.”

A wide, white smile spread over Leya’s face. “Well, in that case, first drink’s on the house. What’ll you have?”

“Vodka tonic,” Blue ordered. “You serve fries?”

“Wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said a man, passing behind Leya and laying a hand on her hip as he worked his way to the end of the bar. “Jack likes to add so much salt, you’ll dry your tongue right out.”

“Actually, he’s right,” said Leya. “Onion rings are probably a better option, if you like those.”

Blue sighed. “I guess I’ll take an order, then.”

“Zayn?” Leya cued.

Zayn sipped a glass of water that he’d pulled out from beneath the bar and rolled his eyes before making his way back around her and into the kitchen. Leya returned her attention to Blue and began mixing up her drink.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Blue. And I’m not really from anywhere.”

“Blue. Like the color?”

She nodded shortly. If she was going to have to keep introducing herself to these strangers, she might just stay in her motel room for the rest of her time here. She’d only done it twice so far and she was already finding it tiresome.

“Not from anywhere?” Leya reached beneath the bar and stuck a lime wedge on the rim of Blue’s glass, pushing it across the counter toward her. “You’ve gotta be from somewhere. You didn’t just appear.”

“I was born in California.”

“Oh. Cali girl, huh?”

“Not really,” Blue deadpanned, sipping from the little yellow straw that Leya had stuck in her glass.

“Mysterious, then.”

“You’re not from around here either,” Blue commented, noticing the way that Leya framed her syllables.

“No,” Leya agreed with a short nod. “Jamaica."

Blue glanced around the bar, at the older men tucked away in a corner, dressed all in black and brown leather. There were a few kids who certainly weren’t of drinking age practicing shots at the pool table closest to her, and another of their friends messing with the old jukebox against the far wall. The girl stepped back to the pool table when she’d made a decision and the twang of a country blues song sounded through the room.

“So,” Blue began, spinning back around on her stool, "who would I have to talk to about getting a job here? Just for about a week or so.”

“You have experience bartending?” Leya asked, just as Zayn returned with a basket full of greasy onion rings. He set them down in front of Blue and looked between her and Leya.

“You’re hiring her?” he asked. “Some stranger? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Her name is Blue,” Leya told him with an irritated look. “And I will hire whoever I’d like.”

Zayn scoffed. “It took me two weeks to convince you to hire me, and we’ve known each other since second grade.”

“Because we’ve known each other since second grade, Zayn. And you’ve been a pain in my ass ever since.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn muttered. He leaned in and pressed a rough kiss to her cheek and then flitted off down the bar to serve another customer.

Blue watched him leave and then raised a brow at Leya. “I should be talking to you, then? Do I have to sleep with you to get a job, too?”

Leya let out a chiming laugh. “Wouldn’t hurt,” she said. “This is my uncle's place. You never answered my question. Do you have experience?”

“I have experience drinking,” Blue offered, sipping at her vodka tonic again. “But I’m a quick learner.”

Leya took a deep breath, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Could be interesting. Where are you staying? Red Roof?”

Blue nodded.

“I’m guessing you don’t have a resume or something for me, huh?”

“No, ma’am.”

A large group of men burst through the screen door. Middle-aged, dads probably, wearing cut-off t-shirts with numbers on the back. Leya tipped her head to them. “All right. I’ve gotta get back to work, Blue. How about you come back tomorrow evening. It’s pretty slow on Sundays. We’ll get you a little training.”

“Sounds like a plan, boss,” Blue responded.

***

The strip-joint-looking place really was a strip joint. Blue knew when she walked past it for a second time, when the blazing sun was beginning to fall at the end of the valley, and a wide-set bouncer newly positioned at the entrance hit her with “You looking for a job, honey?”

“If only you’d asked me a few hours ago,” Blue responded, stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and continuing on down the street.

She poked her head into a couple of boutiques. In one she bought herself a new pair of sunglasses, just before the store was about to close, to replace the ones whose frames she’d bent just a few days ago. She slid them into her hair on the top of her head as she stepped back out onto the sidewalk. The sun still wasn’t down, but it was falling, and somehow she was already growing hungry again. Probably because she never finished her onion rings.

Blue trailed up the strip to the neon-lit diner that read “Shelly’s.” She stepped through the door to find it filled with teenagers. Some on dates, some groups crowded into booths too small for the lot of them. There were only two tables left. Blue picked the one closest and threw herself down into the chair facing the windows. She drew out the notebook and pen that were tucked inside her leather jacket—all of which she’d collected from her motel room after she left The Five and Jive.

“What can I get you?”

Blue glanced up to find a waitress standing over her. She had big eyes framed by dark glasses, black, sharp bangs, and bright red lips that she licked at when she had Blue’s attention.

“Do you guys happen to have blueberry pie?”

The waitress—Ava, her name tag read—glanced toward the counter across the room and squinted her eyes. “I think we might just have one slice left. À la mode?”

“No, just the pie, please. Oh, and a black coffee.”

“Sure thing."

Blue opened up the faux leather cover of her notebook as she was left alone again and began to flip through the used pages until she found a blank one. Then she removed the cap of her pen with her teeth and scribbled, in fluid black ink, the date at the top left of the paper: Saturday, July 27, 2019.

She’d only jotted a few words down before Ava returned with a plate of warmed pie. The waitress set a mug on the table, beside the plate, and filled it from a pot of what Blue hoped was fresh coffee.

“Enjoy,” Ava said, withdrawing to fill more emptying mugs at the other tables.

Blue forked a bite of pie into her mouth and studied the diner’s floor as she chewed. The tiles were all different colors, arranged in patterns at some points and completely randomized at others, probably replaced and patched in countless times since this place opened. The pie was mediocre, just like The Five and Jive’s onion rings.

She blew over the lip of her mug, hoping to cool her steaming coffee just enough to take a short sip. The liquid still scalded the tip of her tongue. She teethed the spot, already growing sore, as she began to recount the day’s events, the people she’d met, the words that had been spoken.

Blue thought that perhaps Ava would stick out to her. A pretty, red-lipped waitress, the only person who hadn’t asked for her name all day, the one she’d spoken to most recently. Or even Leya, who was to be her new boss. And she did journal about both of them, along with Zayn. But she was surprised to find it was Harry who held most of her pen’s attention.

Blue didn’t even like him, she didn’t think. He’d been rather rude, acted like she’d inconvenienced him, as if her car’s decision to break down wasn’t an inconvenience to her. But there was something about the short clip of his words and the way that his eyes moved that she must have found interesting.

It was nearly an hour later when she finished writing down her thoughts of the day. Ava refilled her coffee twice. Now Blue’s mug sat half empty and the crust of her blueberry pie still sat on its plate, but she shelled out some cash for the food, along with a few dollars for a tip, and left the money on her table. She placed the chewed-up cap back on her pen and tucked it into her pocket, fitting her notebook under her arm, and left Shelly’s. Despite all the coffee, the day’s events had tired her out, and she craved the stiff sheets of an unfamiliar motel bed.

***

Blue slept late into Sunday afternoon. She awoke to the low glare of sunlight through the thin yellow motel curtains. She turned over, away from the windows, as she stretched against the day.

She was unsurprised by how late it was. The previous night she had driven straight through hoping to make it into the Carolinas before she needed to stop. But here she was stuck on the western end of Missouri, pointlessly deprived of sleep, bunkering down in the musty, scratchy sheets of Wolver Valley’s Red Roof.

Blue forced herself out of bed when she saw the red numbers on the side table’s digital clock. Leya hadn’t given her a time to be at The Five and Jive, but Blue wasn’t going to burn her bridges on the first full day in town. She showered to rinse of the scent of long car rides—the inevitable scent of a traveler. She slipped into a pair of jeans, a thin t-shirt, her worn-in boots, and pulled the front of her hair out of her face, still damp. She clicked the door to her motel room shut behind her and headed off, munching on the rest of her farm market strawberries on the way.

The sun, even from the far end of the valley, was hot on Blue’s back until she reached the corner of the street and turned right. The crowds at the bar really were thinned out tonight, although she was sure they would pick up at least a little before the evening was through. But for now the parking lot was nearly empty. Just a few cars, and on the bit of pavement just in front of the windows, a bike that struck a familiar chord in Blue’s mind.

Her footsteps slowed as she approached the screen door, puffing on the last dregs of her cigarette. She scanned the motorcycle, glinting in the sunlight that seeped through the town’s shadows. She knew whose it was. That familiarity, after only being in town for less than a full day, made Blue uncomfortable, like there was something crawling just below the top layer of her skin. She crushed the sparks of her cigarette out into the pavement just in front of the rubber tire of the motorcycle before slipping into The Five and Jive.

The inside of the bar reflected its barren parking lot. A couple of old-timers were seated at the bar. Leya was wiping down the wood. And Harry was there, as Blue knew he would be, bent over the edge of the left-hand pool table, hair spilling around his face. Another man stood at the table’s corner, hands twisting around the stick clasped between them. A short blond sat on a stool that had been pulled across the room. She twisted the seat beneath her, apparently bored and impatient with the game being played out in front of her. Harry flashed a quick grin as she muttered something to him, revealing a deep dimple in one of his cheeks.

“Oh, good,” Leya said by way of greeting. “Perfect timing.”

Blue offered her a thin smile as she worked her way around to the other side of the bar, crushing the empty pulp basket that had once held her strawberries. She tossed the container into the trash can as she passed it and came to stop beside Leya.

“I’m gonna show you how to mix up some basic things,” said Leya. “But first, can you take these over to them?” She nodded toward the pool table as she pulled out a couple bottles of beer and began pouring tequila up to the rim of a shot glass. “You’ve already met Harry, right?”

Blue sighed as she took the beer bottles in one hand and carefully balanced the shot glass between her other fingers, trying to keep the alcohol from spilling. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Leya went back to wiping down the bar top. Blue took that as her cue. She spun on her heel and trailed across the room. Only the blond noticed her approach, eyeing the tequila shot in Blue’s hand and leaving her doubtless it was meant for her. Blue passed the shot over and was taken aback by how easily this tiny girl downed the alcohol without any type of chaser.

“Thank you,” the woman said.

Harry glanced up at the sound of her voice. The other man with them was still tilted forward, eye squinted as he lined up a shot and sent the cue ball across the table. It bounced off of the eight ball and then rolled into the corner pocket closest to Blue. He swore beneath his breath and then he was looking up, too.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Harry asked.

Blue chuckled drily and held out the beers in his direction. “Again with the rude greetings.”

He scratched the back of his neck and leaned forward to take one of the bottles. The other man traveled around the table to take the other, tipping his head toward her as he took a sip of beer.

“Right. Blue, this is Niall and Boston,” Harry introduced, gesturing respectively to the man beside him and the woman still perched atop her stool. “They work with me.”

Blue raised her eyes to Boston, barely more than five feet tall, eyes glazed over with the effects of alcohol and feet tapping to the rock drumbeat playing through the bar. Blue couldn’t picture her covered in grease and pulling apart the pieces of a car, but it was fun trying to conjure up the image.

“Ah, Blue,” said Niall after he’d swallowed his drink. "The one that tried to set the garage on fire. You know, we’ve already had our fill of arson in this town."

Blue raised her brows. “Is that so?"

"What’re yeh doin’ here?” Harry repeated, cutting Niall off before he could even reply. His bottle was hanging unsipped at his side.

Blue took the glass from Boston’s hand and rounded the table to collect the empty beers that Harry and Niall had already finished from a wooden shelf against the far wall. “I work here.”

“Leya hired you? Thought yeh weren’ stayin’.”

“Just for a week or so.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Boston spoke up from behind her. “You’ll miss the party.”

“Oh, yeah,” Niall echoed. “You should stay another week. Wolver Valley’s bicentennial is coming up. Boston’ll probably be drunk off her ass, but we can take you to the fair and—”

“No,” Harry interrupted again. The other three all turned to stare at him. He finally swallowed a mouthful of his beer and then shrugged. “She’s a traveler. Wants to get outta town. Rushin’ me to get a new exhaust pipe in and—”

“Actually, take your time,” Blue told him. She waved the empty beer bottles in her hand. “I might just stay a few more weeks. Could use the money.”

Harry slipped a hand through his hair as he surveyed her. He didn’t look pleased about the news. Niall, however, nodded in approval. Boston clicked her heels together before hopping down from her stool at last. She really was short, especially beside the two boys.

“Perfect,” she said. “Could you get me one more shot, Blue? It’s my turn to kick Harry’s ass.” She peeled the stick from Niall’s fingers and began re-racking for a new game. “And also, if I could bum a cigarette when you go out for a smoke, I would really appreciate it."

Blue nodded and turned back toward the bar. She dropped the empty bottles in the receptacle that Leya directed her to and then poured out another glass of tequila for Boston. She felt Harry’s eyes on the side of her face, even as she trailed back over to the pool table, where Boston was breaking. And on her back as she returned with the empty shot glass. Hot like fire. The heat only faded as Harry lined up his own shot, and it didn’t return for the rest of Blue’s shift.

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

In your opinion, who does Cu Chulainn like more between Laeg and Ferdiad? And do you think Cu Chulainn is capable of choosing between them if forced to? Or does he just like them equally?

i don’t think you can really directly compare them, to be honest… he has such a different relationship with the both of them that it’s not an either/or situation. there are some texts, particularly later/early modern ones, that seem to be casting láeg slightly in the role of ‘fer diad replacement’, but that’s not how he comes across to me in the bulk of the material

if we have a look at them both individually… [this is super long so i’m putting it below a cut to save people’s dashboards. also yes i just did like 45 mins’ worth of literary analysis for a tumblr ask. why am i like this]

fer diad was cú chulainn’s companion / close friend / lover when he was very young, while training in alba with scáthach. they were extremely close, having trained and fought together over a substantial period of time, often in seemingly isolated situations. the text indicates that they shared a bed (which, obviously, doesn’t necessarily indicate that anything homoerotic is going on, but does lend itself to that interpretation).

they haven’t seen each other in several years.

they meet again now for what seems like the first time since their youth, and everything has changed. they’re on opposite sides of a war, both torn by their loyalties to their ruler and to their family (both have a familial connection to the person they’re fighting for). it’s a conflict between childhood (foster brother) and adult (family, land) loyalties, and the adult ones win out. despite this, they briefly recapture their childhood intimacy in between fighting each other, but only for the first two days, before even that proves too difficult to maintain in the face of the violence they’re forced to do one another.

(for the record, the way i personally elect to read their relationship is that when they were young they were extremely intimate and had a vaguely romantic relationship, but i don’t tend to read that as sexual because they are literal children. now, granted, this is somewhat anachronistic and inaccurate because, you know, this is cú chulainn we’re talking about, he supposedly sleeps with scáthach at that age even though he’s like six, but the texts which emphasise his closeness to fer diad – and his youth – don’t mention that aspect, so it has the feeling of a divergent tradition in which he’s a bit older. anyway point is i read them as romantic while they’re in training but then they meet again in the táin and cú chulainn is seventeen and fer diad is a bit older and it’s like. oh damn. oh. oh this is not a feeling i should be having about the guy i’m about to fight but. damn. and then they make out. that part’s sort of canon.)

so that’s his relationship with fer diad. it’s… messy and devastating and that’s where its power lies; it’s got this long period of separation in the middle during which they both grow up considerably which really shifts how they interact with each other, and then this catastrophic reunion under the worst of circumstances.

(bearing in mind a lot of this is extrapolated from how they talk to each other in flashbacks, because we don’t ever properly see their youth together)

láeg is cú chulainn’s closest friend throughout his life. it’s unclear where or when they met. one version of compert con culainn has them raised together, both nursed by láeg’s mother, which would mean láeg is probably not more than a year or so older than cú chulainn (since he’s still nursing when cú chulainn is born). other versions don’t mention this, and it’s not clear at what point they become close friends, but it happened at some point. it’s not even entirely clear what province láeg is from, although i think based on that one version of compert con culainn an argument could be made for leinster, which would explain why he’s not hit by the ulaid’s curse (unless charioteers don’t count).

láeg is at cú chulainn’s side throughout the táin. they’re alone there together for literally months. he’s cú chulainn’s servant, technically, but their relationship has some bizarre power dynamics going on (in the book of leinster MS, cú chulainn repeatedly calls him ‘a mo phopa’, which is a very… respectful/deferential way to refer to an older guy, not really what you’d expect. eDIL claims the term is occasionally used as a familiar way to address a social inferior, but honestly? i’m pretty sure they just put that in to explain cú chulainn using it for láeg. i’ve talked about this a few times on this blog, discussing other ways to interpret it, like ‘bro’, which would lean into the interpretation of láeg as cú chulainn’s surrogate older brother figure. alternatively he calls him ‘daddy’ which. you know. is cursed but also uncomfortably valid.)

they play fidchell together, which is like the medieval irish version of chess, and we learn that láeg wins about 50% of the time. given cú chulainn’s association with lug, who supposedly invented fidchell, this suggests that láeg is not only his equal, but also knows him very, very well – well enough to predict his moves.

láeg is with cú chulainn until he dies; he dies because he’s hit by a spear that was aimed at cú chulainn, who dies later in the same story. he’s in the majority of texts that cú chulainn is in (with a few notable exceptions that i’m working on identifying). he goes to the otherworld on cú chulainn’s behalf, at one point, which is pretty brave of him. cú chulainn trusts him and is closer to him than virtually anybody else. i don’t think we ever see him put that much faith in another person.

can you compare them? i don’t know. based on what he says in the táin, láeg was there when cú chulainn and fer diad were training together. he knows them both, and he knows how close they were. he tries to convince cú chulainn not to fight fer diad, because he knows it’ll destroy him. he’s the one who picks the grieving cú chulainn up and convinces him to stay alive afterwards. (at one point he has to literally tie cú chulainn to a bed to make sure he stays still long enough to heal from his wounds. láeg is the long-suffering mumfriend.)

it’s also worth mentioning here that in the stowe manuscript (and only the stowe MS), fer diad’s charioteer is named as idh mac riangabra, láeg’s brother. this name comes up elsewhere as being conall cernach’s charioteer, and since this is only in stowe i tend not to pay much attention to it, but it seems relevant here, because láeg and idh act as interesting foils for cú chulainn and fer diad. they end up fighting each other in their attempts to protect their masters – more specifically, they fight over the gae bolga, which láeg is attempting to pass to cú chulainn; idh is trying to stop him, in order to protect fer diad. in other words, we have two brothers whose loyalty to their masters is greater than their loyalty to each other, causing them to fight… which is more or less the exact position cú chulainn and fer diad have ended up in.

(it’s not just loyalty that sets them against each other; it’s also shame, and honour, and the fact that medb has straight-up threatened to kill fer diad if he doesn’t, or at least, make him fight a whole group of other warriors, which amounts to the same thing. personally i think if he can hold cú chulainn off for three days and cú chulainn can fight like 30 people at once, fer diad is definitely in with a chance of surviving whatever medb throws at him, but maybe he’s better in one-on-one situations. certainly he doesn’t seem to think he can live through it, and in the stowe manuscript he explicitly laments that “medb will kill me with a host” if he doesn’t fight for her, so…)

that interpretation of the charioteers would place láeg’s bond with cú chulainn as the strongest of this mess of interpersonal relationships, i guess, but i think there are a lot of factors going on and none of them are really free to act on what they want – they’re doing what’s required of them (by society, by their rulers, whatever), no matter the personal cost. i don’t think you can really look at the táin and be like “ah yes, i know what cú chulainn wants, personally” because… do we? do we really? i think he wants a nap. láeg almost certainly does.

so, in the end, i’m not sure it comes down to a question of ‘liking’. if forced to choose, i think cú chulainn’s loyalty is to láeg. láeg’s loyalty is certainly to cú chulainn, despite knowing fer diad and understanding what he means to cú chulainn. they are… incredibly close, in a way that seems unusual for a warrior-charioteer pairing given what we see with others, but makes perfect sense if you read it that they grew up together from infancy, and i don’t think we ever see that bond being broken between them.

also, like, he never brutally murdered láeg, which is for sure a point in his favour, given that he… very much did eviscerate fer diad. that cannot be overlooked. that’s kind of an important point.

having said that, as a general rule, i don’t think he wants to make out with láeg. i can occasionally be persuaded to think otherwise, but i generally don’t read their relationship that way, whereas he canonically kisses fer diad.

(kissing in medieval irish lit is actually pretty rare? at some point i really want to do more research into any other scenarios in which there is kissing of any kind, because it doesn’t come up that much, and i feel like exploring those would allow for a more solid interpretation of comrac fir diad as either ‘nothing to see here, just regular homosocial intimacy in a warrior society’ or ‘huh, this is unusual. guess it must be gay’. reading it in conjunction with, say, medieval french lit would suggest the former, but in the context of medieval irish lit specifically… idk, i’m leaning towards the latter, but i need to do more research before i can state that categorically.)

tl;dr i think he has a very different relationship with them both that can’t directly be compared, but if forced to choose, would probably pick láeg.

did i need 1800 words to say that? probably not but here they are anyway

[kisssmefree]

I Was Running

First off, this gif was made by @lukesdonuts

Chapters: 1

Warnings: Fluff, Creepy Men

Word Count: 1,832

Summary: The next day Cleo is battling in her mind whether to let Calum in, but ends up being forced to.

Chapter 2

When Cleo awoke the next morning the smell of a man’s cologne met her nose first, her eyes snapping open in confusion until last night began to come back to her. She was sad to not have Calum next to her when she woke up, but she heard his deep voice outside the door and the smell of breakfast travelled throughout the apartment. She pulled herself out of his soft bed and went to the bathroom, fixing her hair and finding some mouthwash to rinse her mouth with before walking into the kitchen. Her face was brightened with a smile as she took in the scene before her. Calum in gray sweatpants only with his back to her, bending down to talk to a fur ball near his feet that was whining. “Duke you know I always give you a piece of bacon in your bowl when it’s finished, but it’s too hot for you right now,” he reasoned with the dog and patted his head before turning to look at her. “Oh hey, good morning,” he smiled politely, “did you sleep well?”

“Pretty good yeah,” she smiled, making her way to the bar stools around his island, “your bed is ten times more comfortable than my cheap ass bed.”

“Well I’m glad you slept well. I have to go to work soon,” he started, “but you can take a shower in my bathroom after breakfast and I’ll give you a pair of clothes you can change into. Will you be able to get an Uber to take you back to your car?”

“Yeah that shouldn’t be a problem at all. Thanks for breakfast you didn’t have to cook,” she told him, resting her head on her hand. He just shrugged and turned to a cabinet to get two plates before putting the pancakes and eggs and bacon on them both, placing one of them in front of her and the other in front of the stool next to her. He then proceeded to take a piece of bacon to the two bowls on the floor near his bedroom door as the black fluff trailed behind him happily. “Your dog is spoiled Cal,” she laughed.

“Hey!” He quickly spun to look at her, “this dog is the love of my life he deserves the world!” That cued another burst of laughter from Cleo and he couldn’t help but join in before sitting down next to her and they both had a comfortable, quiet breakfast.

After breakfast he pulled out a pair of sweats and a hoodie for her to wear home before getting her clean towels for the shower. She thanked him before going into the bathroom and showering in the steaming water. Once she had stepped out and put on his clothes she walked out to find Duke being the only one left in the apartment. She found a note on the counter next to a wad of cash - Sorry for sneaking out, I had to head to work. I hope this is enough to pay for your Uber. I had a great time last night. With a smiley face and his number scrawled on the bottom of the paper. She slipped the note and the cash in her wallet before sitting and playing with Duke waiting for her Uber to get there. She knew she was fooling herself thinking this was something she could get involved in. The normalcy, the domestication... the happiness. She knew it would fall apart around her. She knew she would destroy his own happiness and the bubble of beauty he has around himself. She knows she breaks everything she touches so that’s why she told herself to throw the note with his number in the trash when she got home.

Her calm drive home was interrupted when her boss called her asking her to come pick up a shift at the restaurant near her apartment. Once she got home she slipped out of Calum’s clothes and threw them on her bed before slipping on her black slacks and a cute top for work before grabbing her keys and purse and driving the 20 minutes to work. The day was busy for the small burger joint and she was hating that she had went out partying the night before, cursing the headache she began to have a few hours into the shift. “Hi welcome to Frosty’s, how many?” She greeted when she heard the door open as she adjusted some things behind her. When she spun back around she was met by a man who was staring at her like he knew who she was.

“I’m sorry, Cleo,” he stated after a long awaited pause, “it’ll just be me today.”

“Alright sir, right this way,” Cleo led the man to an open table in the back corner and quickly walked away to get his drink order while overthinking how he knew who she was. She began panicking that maybe he was after her. He had found her. He knew where she was and it was just a matter of time before- she stopped when her hand ran down the collar of her shirt and she felt her name tag. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, shaming herself for being so paranoid.

Time had long past and it was time for her to close the joint, the rest of her employees had gone home. “Sir I’m sorry to be rude, but we’re closing. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she hollered to the man from earlier who was still sitting, sipping on his water. He simply nodded, throwing a couple twenty dollar bills on the table before walking out the door. Cleo quickly followed behind him and locked the front doors and went into the back to finish up the last couple things before clocking out. She went to go to the front and grab her phone only to see that the man was still outside the restaurant. She began to panic, not knowing what to do so she pulled out her phone and called one of the girls she was with the night before that she actually kind of liked, but she didn’t answer. Cleo’s hands began to shake and she dropped her purse, spilling its contents across the floor. “Fuck,” she let out, her trembling hands tried to pick up the mess before it met with the same piece of paper from this morning with Calum’s handwriting scrawled across it. Cleo knew she shouldn’t bother him, she knew she shouldn’t involve him, but she dialed his number anyways and waited.

“Hello,” his voice flooded her ear and she immediately felt relief.

“Oh thank God,” she let out, “hey Cal it’s Cleo.”

“Oh hey! I thought you’d never call, what’s up?” He sounded so happy. She began to argue with herself whether to really tell him. “Cleo? You there? Is everything alright?” He began to sound concerned with her loss of words.

“Look Calum, it’s probably nothing, but I’m at work and I’m supposed to be closing tonight and there was this creepy guy that was here for like three hours and I had to kick him out and now he’s just standing out in the parking lot not leaving. I’m sorry to bother you I just don’t know what to do and I’m terrified and I didn’t know who else to call,” her voice shook as she told him everything and before she could say anything else she heard a car starting through the phone.

“Where do you work? I’m on my way,” he said with an edge to his voice.

“Um Frosty’s... You know the burger joi-”

“I know where it is. I’ll be there in 10 minutes tops okay? Please stay on the phone with me,” he sounded concerned and the tone surprised her. How was he so caring?

“Cal you really don’t have to do all of this it’s probably nothing I’m just being paranoid,” she tried to reason with him.

“Cleo, if you have a feeling then it’s not nothing. I’m coming,” he sounded so sure of himself with his last two words that she felt her heart soaring at the idea he was driving there at 11:30 at night just because she was scared.

When Calum got to Frosty’s the man quickly got into his pickup truck and drove away while Calum walked to the front of the restaurant. When Cleo saw Calum in a white T-shirt and a leather jacket walking towards her she felt an immense amount of relief. She couldn’t contain herself as she let out a breath and took a few large steps to him before wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his chest. His arms quickly wrapped around her, his chin going to the top of her head and he could feel her body trembling against him. She mumbled something against his chest that he couldn’t understand, all he knew is the first thing he thought when he got that phone call was that someone was trying to hurt his girl. He didn’t care if she didn’t know it yet, but he was going to make that girl his no matter what. He slowly moved his hands to her shoulders to pull her away before putting his hands on both sides of her face. She blankly stared at his chest, the fear of what would have happened captivated her. His hands forced her head to tilt up and look him in the face. “You’re okay, you’re safe,” he whispered. She closed her eyes and lulled her head into his hand, her grip on his T-shirt slowly started to release and her breathing began to slow. “Come home with me tonight, I’ll bring you to your car in the morning,” he whispered again and he felt her head begin to nod against his hand. She didn’t realize she was nodding already before entirely processing what he asked, but she felt too calm with him to care. His hand slid down her arm and slowly entangled his fingers with hers, leading her to the passenger side of his Camaro. After getting her in he got into the driver’s seat and turned on his car. However, instead of taking her straight home, he pulls into his favorite diner.

“What are we doing?” She looked at him, tilting her head in confusion. His heart couldn’t help but swell looking at her. Her pouty lips always looked so kissable and her eyes looked so innocent, yet so so sinful.

“A midnight snack! Come on, this is my favorite place to eat,” He smiled. And yeah, maybe his heart was moving too fast, but no one was going to stand in front of it except hers. Because her heart was moving fast too, but it was on a leash, tied to her insecurities. And that leash only let her poor heart go so far before yanking it back into its cage.

[general-loki]

Unlucky Gambler Chapter 3

Title: Unlucky Gambler

Chapter 3: Imagine Opening the Door

Series: Fate Grand Order / Unlimited Blade Works

Pairing: Lancer Cu Chulainn / Archer Emiya

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mild sexual content, language, friends with benefits situation (basically for now)

Summary:  The next Rayshift leaves Archer and Lancer to focus on the mission before them, but Archer maybe focuses a little too much.

(Forgive me for reposting but I got my blog back!)

You can read the rest this chapter and more on AO3 here. 

Or continue below.

It felt like the next Rayshift came quickly. There was just enough time to enjoy some of limited comforts of Chaldea HQ before the next Singularity became clear and ultimately pulled them away. Lancer had a certain expectation when it came to seeing Masters wandering into strife--or causing it--and to see this young girl brave into only gods knew what gave him a sliver of pride, but also more work to do in the end. Mash and her dear senpai earned a few stripes in their last encounters; however, things would be ramping up from there. Just a feeling.

Lancer had a pretty good gut instinct, if he’d stop long enough to listen to it anyway.

The Rayshift took the group to Rome herself, glorious in picture but wedded in war. The lovely ruler of Rome they soon met left a familiar impression on him, but he wasn’t going to say what. There were more important troubles--namely waves and waves of warriors constantly hounding them and the Emperor’s troops. Lancer wasn’t all that keen on fighting non-servants, but somewhere at the end of the line would be the actual threats. They just had to get so far.

War like this had a way of lasting--stretching itself out ages longer than anyone would like. As a servant this hardly impacted his energy, but it did wear on his patience and nerves. Protecting their Master, Nero, the rest--it was sort of exhausting in a different way. When they did have evenings of rest or camping on the road, he found himself picking a spot away and getting some rest outside any of the other comforts that could be offered in such a case.

It felt strange to be able to guess this much, but he figured Archer was doing the same.

They had been in contact since that first time they made their deal, but not any deeper so. Lancer caught Archer once or twice almost waiting around for such a chance and took it back at Chaldea, but as soon as they were deployed things shifted.

The battlefield wasn’t really the place he’d typically get into this kind of game.

And yet.

And yet it irked him. Not even a teasing word or a moment of play with this guy. Archer looked as stoic as always on the field--too good to pass him much more than a glance. As much as Lancer gave him hell for it, Archer really did pick off enemies he didn’t himself, backing him up with a well placed shot here and there; a dive to the rescue now and then.

Whatever the hell that expressed--instead of using words like a normal person.

It plucked at his nerves. Lancer got this odd feeling it was on purpose. Eventually Archer was going to play him into whatever his hand was and they would wind up somewhere. Right into paranoia about it and resting in camps alone--if that were any good for a plan at least.

After a particularly lengthy series of battles the party camped out on the road, human soldiers too resting in their tents and attending to all the things an army must. While Mash and Ritsuka were socializing with some of the rest, Lancer let himself wander the camp and look over the work being done. Standing out as a servant he was used to, but here most were so busy they hardly paid him any mind.

Somewhere in the sea of swaying tents and campfires he spotted a familiar flash of red. Despite himself, he followed after that glimpse--weaving between soldiers and spears to try and find where in the waves that man had gone. After nearly tripping over a stray rope, Lancer picked up his pace, legs carrying him faster around milling soldiers and packs of supplies. He wasn’t sure how he missed Archer even in all this, but he seemed to have just vanished. Right as he slowed, ready to let it be a hallucination, he felt a grasp sudden and tight at his forearm.

Immediately he tried to jerk away only to find the grip tighter still, coming from the open flap of the tent he’d crossed in front of. In only the edge of sunset cast over the field it was hard to see at first, but he soon realized who had a hold of him. Quietly he stepped into the tent, led by the arm, letting the flap of the tent fall behind him. It left him in near dark with the man who had led him around.

They traded barely seen glares for a moment before Lancer opened his mouth first.

“Have yourself some fun that way?”

Archer cracked a small chuckle, eventually shuffling in the dark a moment before getting a candle lit. With the light under his face it brightened and shaded his features in a stark way--ominous and yet endearing with that sort of crooked almost-smile. “I couldn’t think of a better way to avoid drawing attention to us,” Archer said, sounding the slightest bit amused.

Lancer took a step back, his arm now free to be crossed over his chest with the other. “You got something to say to me you can’t in front of the rest, huh?”

There was a flash of surprise on Archer’s face--one quickly covered with a more serious look heightened by the flickering fire under his chin. “Something like that. The timing was never right.”

The phrasing of that caught Lancer’s attention. He’d been joking of course, and maybe it was just the darkness and that single light between them, but something seemed actually serious in that moment. Lancer tilted his head aside, like the look would spur Archer to go on, but he didn’t in a very timely manner so he answered. “Well, we’re alone now. Tell it to me.”

A silence filled the space, like everything going on outside the tent had stilled too. Archer sat back on a crate in the corner, light unwavering in his hand. He glanced aside, like he would find the words he was looking for there before turning that gaze back on Lancer.

“Do you think this master will be fine?” Archer asked in a hushed tone.

It took Lancer a few seconds to recover from how badly he misjudged the mood. This wasn’t exactly about the two of them at all. Then again, he couldn’t exactly be mad. Archer was awfully doting with this master--maybe that was just how he was dealing with all this. Distant, until he was asked for and seemingly trusted by Ritsuka. She seemed to have won him over rather quickly, considering how standoffish Archer could be at times. Then again, she probably warranted the worrying--this was a lot for a single young lady.

Lancer let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head. “I’m not a fortune teller here. I don’t know how she’s gonna do. But she’s handling it well enough so far. You’ve been hanging around more. You tell me.”

It wasn’t exactly uncommon to find Archer in the Chaldea kitchen at this point. Every so often he made something to treat Ritsuka and some of the other servants. It kept spirits up and it seemed to put Archer somewhat more at ease too. It was more in the sort of element he looked healthier in. Surrounded by those appreciating him for something other than the skills he would typically be summoned for. In a way, beneath that surface, Archer was almost too normal compared to some of his counterparts. Like a stronger thread of humanity held tight and too close in his heart. The space between the two of them felt wider for a moment, Lancer watching Archer’s face in the low light as he contemplated his answer.

“I think she’s capable. Even with lacking skills in many areas she has something about her. The way other servants and outstanding people of the places we’ve been deployed to treat her… I don’t know what to call that quality,” Archer admitted.

“Then why are you worrying? Whatever it is, it’s taking her somewhere. Wherever that is, we’re gonna be there anyway, right?” Lancer found himself answering without thinking too hard. It just felt natural off the end of his tongue.

Some of the shaded worry over Archer’s features fell to something like mild surprise. Like he couldn’t necessarily be offended with the simplicity of it all, and yet here he was.

“You don’t question what that is or where this goes?” Archer asked back with his gaze finally fixed on Lancer’s.

Lancer shrugged one shoulder. “How can I? This is a hell of a lot bigger than just one Grail War. The scale’s huge. I’m better off focusing on what I can do.”

“And what can you do in that case, Lancer?”

The question wasn’t an expected one. Maybe one lingering on Lancer’s mind, but not one he anticipated having so directly. Thinking too hard on the answer would just make it more difficult. Going with the flow of things felt better. “If I’m summoned someone probably needs my spear. She can just point me where she needs me, and rest easy if I’m on watch. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”

“And it will somehow work out all fine if you do that?” Archer said with a more pointed look.

Lancer took a few steps closer, placing his hand on Archer’s shoulder. “I can’t know that. But I do know that’s what I feel like doing. And how I fit in with this mess. Whatever kind of mess it turns out being. Aren’t you doing the same thing?”

“Essentially...that may be the case,” Archer was willing to admit.

“You’re worrying too much then. Act in the heat of the moment, sort out the details when it makes sense,” Lancer suggested, patting Archer’s shoulder once, just to help drive it in. He didn’t seem much less tense for it, but it was still something--however slight.

The look on Archer’s face turns somewhat annoyed and yet in a way there’s almost some affection in his tone. Perhaps he didn’t want to be read so easily, even as he spoke. “You take these things so lightly. But you don’t seem stressed. Even with so many other Servants around.”

Lancer shrugged, a crooked grin on his face. “Sure, more people to split the work with. Not that I couldn’t handle it, but you don’t mind having a break here and there, do you?”

“I’m on guard anyway. It hardly makes a difference.”

At that Lancer steps in closer, too close for a casual conversation between two simply talking of battle. The hand at Archer’s shoulder shifts down and rests at his hip, the touch enough to jolt Archer into looking more closely at Lancer’s eyes. The pair exchanged looks for a short moment, all still while the shift in tone settled over them.

“You’re not so on guard you’re shaking me off,” Lancer points out in a lower voice, leaning in a touch closer. Archer certainly wasn’t pushing him away, but he did tilt his face away from his lips to avoid temptation a moment longer. Through that, Archer cycled through a pair of expressions, at first surprise then annoyance. They did this little song and dance number nearly every time they physically got near each other and yet Archer was still sort of terrible at it.

“‘She’s with the others’ or maybe ‘Just a minute longer,’ right?” Lancer said through a toothy grin, this time at least not imitating Archer’s voice as he put words in his mouth.  

It has only grown darker outside, leaving them mostly lit by the candlelight Archer had set aside behind himself. Even in light so low, he could see the warmer color in Archer’s eyes as he started to consider changing his mind. There was just a look he had, like he were softening ever so slightly to whatever idea Lancer had next. Some affection for it had built up in Lancer’s thoughts as Archer ran over that cycle a bit more than usual. Here there was more to worry about, battles on the horizon, and plenty of prying people around, however in the end he seemed to make his choice well enough.

“Only this once. So you aren’t pouting around between battles,” Archer said like this made some sort of sense.

“What pouting? Who’s pouting?” Lancer started to ask but his companion soon had his arms around his waist and his lips pressed at his jawline like it were a test of how little it might take to shut him up. He elected to talk through it, even as Archer kissed up from the end of his chin making his way toward his ear.

“It isn’t pouting, for the record, you know,” Lancer carried on somewhat awkwardly.

“Brooding then,” Archer replied before pressing his lips gently at Lancer’s cheek.

“Me? The broody one? That’s you.”

“You looked the part, sitting alone away from everyone like that.”

It took a second for Lancer to work that out, paused as Archer’s hand made way for his hip in a slow stroke down.

“You were watching, but couldn’t be assed to say hi.”

“You never want just a greeting.”

“You have time to talk to me.”

The back and forth continued, even as Archer reached more toward Lancer’s rear, his grip almost too obvious and too ready. That naked desire almost did enough to grasp Lancer’s thoughts away but not quite. He gave Archer an expectant look following his last remark, more serious despite the heat starting to build up between them. Archer read that face clearly enough and relaxed his hand somewhat more chastely at Lancer’s waist.

“I wouldn’t like anyone prying into this. Our Master has enough to deal with,” he answered firmly.

“It’s between us. Besides, everyone knows we already know each other. You don’t have to pretend I’m some new face to you, right?” Lancer suggested, hopefully getting to the root of the issue.

Archer let out a sigh, his head lowered a little. “I suppose they do know that. It’s only my preference that this… whatever this is doesn’t interfere with our work.”

“Then don’t let it. You know, for a guy who likes to motherhen everyone else, you kind of terrible with your own responsibilities,” Lancer said with a short laugh.

“I’m perfectly responsible,” Archer answered briskly, not insulted but unwavering in his assurance of that.

“You’re awful in a relationship,” Lancer laughed.

“This is no relationship,” Archer insisted anyway, looking less and less in his own element, his grip at Lancer’s side growing more tense despite that.

“Friends with benefits, yeah yeah. But at least be my friend here and there, come on now,” Lancer said with nothing but the intent to tease him further. He deserved at least that much. Lancer himself tried to take this whole deal between them as casually as he could. However, that call for a bit more company still echoed in his skull from time to time. He liked the other servants plenty and yet still he wanted to hear things out of Archer’s stupid mouth. Maybe being summoned here broke something in his head too.

Archer struggled clearly with that answer for a moment, his eyes searching the ground beside Lancer for an answer, like it might be there or simply that it was easier to avoid his gaze. Eventually, he spoke up in a quieter voice. “I don’t mind talking with you when we’re back in Chaldea but this is a battlefield, not a playground. I’m not here to have fun with you Lancer.”

Lancer shifted to point a finger at Archer’s hand still firmly at his waist. “Your body says otherwise.”

The look on Archer’s face shifted from almost cool to completely embarrassed with him, cheeks burning and all. “You started this…”

“You did. You pulled me into this tent. Alone.”

Next came a groan out of Archer, his shame enough that he lowered his head, resting his forehead directly on Lancer’s shoulder. The move shocked Lancer enough that he didn’t pester him right away, leaving him to seemingly soak in his own embarrassment. There was something oddly intimate about this touch that struck Lancer as automatically he pat his hand at Archer’s back soothingly. Before being sent on a mission again, they had mostly fired each other up, wound up blowing the other, and mocking it off. It was odd how that was sort of normal, but this felt too exposed.

“I’m… tempted at times to do more than greet you,” Archer admitted in a lowered voice after a short period of silence.

“So you just skip on it all together?”

“That seemed the responsible thing to do given our situation here.”

Lancer gave it a moment of thought before just saying whatever popped into his head like usual. “Didn’t want to be caught in an alarm with your hands down my pants huh?”

Archer raised his head, giving Lancer a dead-eyed look. “Remind me again why I’m supposed to even want your company?”

As always, Lancer just laughed it off, unbothered all over again. As cute was Archer was wallowing there he couldn’t exactly keep him down forever. With a little more space between them now he should shift position, his hand going to hold gently at Archer’s chin, making sure their eyes met properly this time. Despite himself, there was affection in his tone, however small.

“You wanted to see me, didn’t you? Maybe you know better than I do,” Lancer suggested with a lowered voice. As cool as he might have played it, he found himself starting to swim a little in Archer’s eyes--silvery and sharp at times, but relaxing to a warm gray as the pair remained close.

“I don’t know,” Archer was willing to admit given some time. A shame too, his gaze turned away after he spoke again. Lancer leaned in just a hair closer, just enough to purposefully draw him back.

“Do what you want to sometimes, not what you have to. Even if you don’t know why you want to, come see me anyway,” Lancer said low on breath, watching carefully for how that suggestion might land.

“What happened to chastising me for being irresponsible?” Archer answered after a moment, more actively watching Lancer in return.

Lancer’s lips split into a wide grin, terribly amused at how well he knew his own answer. “Be irresponsible with me now and then. Feel it out, find a space between work and hovering over her to let yourself go for a minute. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Even if it feels good it isn’t necessarily the right thing to do.”

“But you wanna do it anyway, right?”

Archer’s expression soured somewhat as he eyed Lancer, not rushing to answer this time. Lancer couldn’t tell if he was buying into it yet or not. As cool as Archer tried to act about all this Lancer started to get concerned that maybe he wasn’t so good at even a casual relationship. He sort of anticipated something like that getting himself into this mess, but now that he was here he noticed more and more of the wear in Archer’s armor. It led him to about one conclusion:

Archer was absolutely hopeless in a relationship.

The man himself let out a long sigh, closing his eyes and drawing his face away from Lancer’s grasp. Lancer let him go--assuming the worst at this point. He expected their fun to take a backseat to their work, he was efficient in that sort of way himself, but he was feeling a little more like he was tossed in the trunk at this point.

“I’ll do it,” Archer said a bit suddenly in their silence.

It startled Lancer enough he didn’t reply right away--instead watching Archer and expecting a “but” or some other qualifier. But none came.

“You’ll do it? Just like that?”

Archer nodded. “You’re asking. I can pull back. I should. This fight isn’t all mine alone in the first place. It isn’t mine to carry.”

Lancer found himself staring in disbelief. Rather than let Archer’s hard-thought answer be left that way he catches his arms around him again, laughing a little. “There you go. Relax here and there. They’d all tell you the same thing you know.”

There came a smaller sigh this time from Archer, a very slim smile on his face. “I can’t exactly deny that.”

“You wouldn’t be modeling yourself as much of a big brother to them if you burn yourself out,” Lancer teased despite attempts to clamp that down. He couldn’t help himself.

“I’m not trying to be anyone’s big brother,” Archer grumbled, but did still put his arms around Lancer in return. They hadn’t exactly done well at just holding one another, but now that Lancer was here he was comfortable--oddly. He didn’t want to be too obvious so only lets himself hold that little bit more tightly. Just a little. Only a short, simple, yet intimate touch. On a basic level--stupidly basic--it felt good to be held.

“Archer,” Lancer started, unfinished.

A low rumble in response was all Archer bothered with.

“When no one’s looking, you know, you can do this whenever.”

“Whenever then,” Archer murmured, seeming to actually agree without a fuss.

“Yeah,” was all Lancer felt like saying, muffled as he tucked in closer and kissed Archer’s neck just below his ear. It was just an idle touch, something small, but this close Lancer could feel a very light shiver up over the other’s body. He might have caught him unprepared or he hadn’t quite cooled down from earlier. Either way he found it in himself to easily ruin a slightly more tender moment without much remorse.

“I can give you more than that right now, if you want,” he offered. Part of him started to worry he would have to be more blunt, but he found Archer’s lips on his own in a second flat. What seemed to be a spur of the moment kiss, Archer parted from it quickly only to try again as Lancer was more ready for him this time. They met more evenly this time, pressing closer and deeper, faster than Lancer anticipated. They split again only for a breath this time as Archer met his lips again, this time his tongue meeting the other’s. Somehow he wasn’t expecting so much so suddenly from Archer like this, but maybe that agreement between them opened something up. He did advise him to go for more of what he wanted--this could have been it.

It didn’t feel bad to be wanted after all.

The next time their lips parted Archer let out a longer, more heated breath--his eyes a little more clouded with that sort of stormy look, like he could dive back in at any second. Lancer felt his own breath catch to see him like this--a view behind a locked door he could almost imagine swinging wide on its hinges some day. He ached to unravel Archer completely, to get a the very heart of that expression and drive Archer so far into it he couldn’t get back out. The second it got a little too hot between them Lancer caught himself clawing for extremes in a rush and yet all he could bring himself to do outwardly was grasp at Archer’s back and push him closer up against himself as their lips met again, tongues searching the other deeper.

Maybe that was just getting lost in the moment. Maybe that was all.

Archer let out a low rumble as Lancer’s hand found a place at his hip, fingers toying for his waist, to pull at clothing. It didn’t really matter where or what at this point--he was intent on having a little more. Archer seemed to be on the same page, his hand finally just going for Lancer’s rear like he’d obviously wanted to earlier.

Hands worked faster and hotter over the other, each feeling more of the other even as clothing got in the way. It was doubtless coming next.

“Cu Chulainn!!”

The sound of his name made him freeze, Archer doing the exact time--either of them wide eyed. Lancer’s shoulders tensed as he heard the call again--the voice obviously Ritsuka’s.

“You haven’t checked in today have you,” Archer whispered at him accusingly.

“What? I have to that often?” Lancer muttered back in an equally low and quiet voice for their safety. He’d nearly gotten Archer’s pants down and he was quite obviously ready for that much.

“Of course you have to; it’s dangerous not to account for every servant,” Archer continued in the same almost nagging tone.

Lancer swore and pulled away from Archer’s grasp, running a hand up through his hair like it might help him cool off. He paces the length of the tent a couple times, trying to will himself to cool off. Archer watched him, also sort of flustered still leaned up against the crate behind him and frozen in place.

There was another call of his name and this time Lancer took a calmer breath. His face still felt warm but he could work with that. Clear he was going to split, Archer straightened up and gave him a look that was hard to read in the dark.

“I’ll find you later...Another time,” Archer decided for them.

Lancer nodded and reached for the tent’s flap. “Later, Archer,” he said, letting that be somewhat final.

“Later,” was Archer’s answer in agreement, even if he did seem a fair bit put off by all this.

It happened. What could be done anyway? Lancer let it be, sneaking out of the tent and looking around for Ritsuka. He spots the young master soon enough, her sunset colored hair hard to miss even in a place this crowded. He hurried up to her side, laughing slightly.

“Thought I heard something. What’s going on, Master?” he asked just as casually as he might.

She tilted her head and gave him a long, concerned look. “Are you alright? I hadn’t seen you since we were in combat earlier.”

Lancer gave her a lighter smile. “All fine here. Didn’t mean to worry you. How about I come check on you after any battle while we’re out here?”

Ritsuka nodded this time, giving him a small but tired smile in return. “I’d appreciate that. I kept seeing you alone before then too. If anything’s bothering you, you can come see me.”

For some reason Cu never expected himself to be one of the servants Ritsuka would be concerned with. His name spoke enough for him, didn’t it? He wasn’t a stranger to Holy Grail wars either--why was she so concerned then? It took him a second to realize she probably did this with all the servants and everyone else. No wonder a girl like Mash stuck so closely to her side. Despite the master’s lack of strength she took care of those around her. It felt oddly familiar.

“I was thinking through this whole mess. I think I’ve got it about sorted out now,” Cu answered honestly enough. It took a chat with Archer, but they seemed to have it hammer out now. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. Another day though. Isn’t it pretty late?”

Ritsuka looked surprised before straightening up with a more serious face. “I was about to get some sleep, I just wanted to check first.”

“Then check no more. Get some rest, Master. You’re already working too hard,” Cu said more gently this time. “Take your breaks whenever you can get them. You never know in a situation like this.”

“You’re right...Thank you Cu. You rest well tonight,” she offered in return with a short wave. Cu found himself waving right back without much of a thought, trading a pair of “goodnights” before she took off to her own tent.

Once she was gone he let out a long sigh. It might have been relief or just some of that tiredness creeping up on him. Still, he left a thread hanging and had to see. When he returned to the tent Archer had pulled him into the bastard was already gone, leaving no sign he’d ever even been there.

“Later,” Lancer muttered to himself in reminder and took off to find a place to rest. Archer would cash in that “later” whenever he was damn well ready--there was just no telling when that would be. Part of him hoped it would be that night, but he wasn’t quite so lucky. Things in this mission picked up quickly leaving little time for such things, however important they were.

After one battlefield was cleared and all were headed back, Archer made a few casual strides Lancer’s way--like he only just happened to be passing that direction to rejoin the others. When no eyes were on them as they crossed he felt Archer’s fingers grasp his own, their hands weaving together almost naturally. The smoothness of it all brought Lancer to Archer’s pace--the pair walking together for what was only a short moment, but one that lingered on Lancer’s mind and skin for a long time yet.

[bittysvalentines]

#latteart

To: @cherub-jpg

From: @dinosaurswearingdior

Happy Bitty's Valentine's! I hope you find this sweet!

_________

It’s a slow day when She first comes in, and Chris is bored, which is what inspires him to try it.

The setup at Frogs’ Coffee and Tea is such that Nursey takes orders at the register and grabs pastries from the case before sending customers down to the other end of the counter where they can grab their drinks from Chris. (This arrangement is always the same- the one time they had switched jobs it had taken 3 hours to clean up the mess.)

When Frogs’ is busy, it’s all Chris can do to not spill scalding milk all over the floor, let alone make his lattes and mochas look elegant. However, the first day that he sees Her, it’s 2:00 on a Tuesday and for whatever reason they haven’t had a customer in over an hour. That, combined with the fact that his first thought when he sees Her is omg so pretty, is why he attempts swirl a delicate flower into the top of her hazelnut latte. He slides it across to the counter to Her and smiles proudly.

She smiles back, but when she looks down at the latte, her smile freezes and she cocks her head to the side confusedly. Chris looks down at the latte again and has to admit it looks more like a blobby sun than a flower. He cringes a little inwardly, but when he glances back up at her, he finds no hint of disdain or mocking on her face. She’s still smiling, a little softer now, and she simply says, “Thank you,” before taking her drink and heading out.

Chris gazes after her stupidly until Nursey comes down and pokes him.

+

Chris is finishing a drink for the last in a long line of customers, relieved to finally be getting a break, when he hears the jangle of the door opening once again and inwardly groans. However, when he glances up and sees Her again, this time surrounded by a few other people -all, including Her, wearing Samwell Volleyball sweatshirts- his annoyance transforms into butterflies in his stomach.

Instead of looking up at the menu, they are all looking straight at him.

“You’re right, Farmer, he is cu-” one of Her companions says in a loud whisper, cut off by Her elbow and dissolving into giggles.

She - Farmer - rolls her eyes and shoves her friends toward a table before striding up to the counter and placing her order: the same as before, hazelnut latte.

She clearly remembers him (??!!) but he doesn’t want her to forget or think he isn’t interested, so he tries the latte art again, this time just the fern-leaf pattern he’s seen on so many cups on the internet (simpler is better, right?).

It comes out looking like a tipping-over Christmas tree, but he smiles as he slides it over to her anyway. She grins big, knowing, when she sees it, but still only says, “Thank you”, and joins her friends at the table.

“What was that all about?” comes a voice from behind him, and Chris turns to see Dex, Frogs’ delivery guy leaning against the counter next to a box of espresso beans.

“Seriously,” adds Nursey as he wanders down and throws his arm around Dex’s shoulders and leans against him. (Chris doesn’t miss the way Dex slides his hand into the back pocket of Nursey’s jeans.)

Chris explains, which elicits awws from Nursey, romantic (“but, like, a chill one, Chowder”), and eye rolls from Dex, who asks, “Why don’t you just write your number on the cup?”

Before he can answer, Nursey shoves his phone into Chris’ face. Chris pulls back enough to focus on the screen, which shows YouTube videos on how to do fancy latte art.

Chris glances over at Farmer, only to find her looking back. They both smile. Chris turns back to Nursey.

“Text me those links, will you?”

+

He practices during every shift, when it’s not busy, and he thinks he’s getting better, but it’s slow going. Farmer comes in a couple times a week and every time, he serves her the best he can do- flowers, faces, suns, bunnies.

+

“Hey, Chowder, man, come check this out,” Dex says one day. “I found it through a Buzzfeed article.”

He shows Chris his phone. It’s an Instagram account called cutebaristafails. The bio reads, “He’s cute and he’s trying”. The pictures, when Chris scrolls through them, are all undoubtedly his lattes, specifically the ones he’s made for Farmer.

His first thought is to be hurt, or embarrassed, but Nursey points out that Farmer doesn’t seem to be making of fun of him- she clearly thinks his tries at latte art are adorable and is charmed by the fact that he tries to make these creations for her. Her pictures never show him, his name, or the name of the shop, and are always zoomed in so that the shop can’t be identified by the background.

After thinking about basically nothing else for 24 hours, Chris decides that what he actually feels is excited- his crush thinks he’s cute and he’s impressed her enough that she made an instagram account!

This feeling increases when, one day, he sees that Dex has commented on cutebaristafails’ latest post. The picture is a wonky dog’s face that could also be the state of Texas, depending on how you look at it. The caption reads, “Don’t know exactly what it’s supposed to be, but #hearteyesemoji”.

Dex’s comment reads, “I think it’s supposed to be a way for the barista to get your attention because he likes you.” (Chris will shove Dex hard for that later.)

Best of all, cutebaristafails has replied, “haha if that’s true then it’s working!!”

+

Chris does worry, though. He needs to be seriously impressive, not just goofily impressive, or else when he does ask her out (which he will, he totally will), she might think it’s a joke.

So he picks up extra shifts so he can practice more. He takes a class at a coffee shop the next town over. Gradually, he’s able to do intricate designs- swans, human faces, dragons, classic works of art, and memorably, on Dex’s birthday, a penis.

(Nursey had laughed so hard that he’d knocked over a whole tray of danishes.)

He’s gratified to see that his hard work is paying off when cutebaristafails posts a picture of his latest creation for her, a fierce tiger, with the caption, “I don’t know if I can call these fails anymore, he’s getting really good!”

Dex comments, “just change the account to cutebaristaflirts because that’s what he’s doing,” and when Chris sees it, he throws a measuring cup at him.

(But the name of the account does change.)

+

When Chris realizes that Valentine’s Day falls on a Wednesday, one of the days Farmer regularly comes in, he starts working on his most intricate project yet.

When he slides the drink across the counter that day, there, swirled in milk and espresso, is his phone number. Farmer’s eyes light up and she grins bigger than she ever has before. This time, she doesn’t just say thank you and leave.

+

Later that night, a new post appears on cutebaristaflirts’ feed:

(If you can’t see the photo: A picture of a latte with an intricate heart swirled on the top and a caption that says, “first date” with a string of heart emojis after it.)

[deepdickdaniel]

Kang Daniel | Host Club

prompt: your friends may have dragged you to a host club, but you can’t help but go back on your own.

note: day 3 of DANIEL WEEK aka MY BIRTHDAY WEEK!!! this is the week i post seven days of daniel stories as a treat to myself! for whoever doesn’t know what a host club is, it’s a place where people pay to be entertained by male hosts! a customer usually pays to talk to a specific host of his or her choosing and talks/flirts/jokes around with him for however much time is paid for! the host club i’m writing about is mostly based on ouran high school host club.

your school’s host club was a new addition to the...extracurricular activities that one could partake in

you heard that there were eleven different hosts that you could choose from

each host was specifically recruited by the mastermind that came up with the idea for the club

and each host had a specific charity that he would donate his proceeds to at the end of every semester

somehow, a bunch of your friends convinced you to go with them after classes let out one month into the semester

“it’ll be for CHARITY!!!”

so you found yourself in front of the ‘grand’ doors of your school’s multipurpose room, in disbelief that you were actually here

before your friends could even knock on the doors, they flew open and gusts of perfume hit you in the face

as you were choking and tearing up with all of the scents around you, your friends rushed past you to pick their hosts

all of them were still free to choose from since your friends made sure you guys were the first to get there

the hosts were standing there, some shy and blushing, others bright and happy

you recognized some from general interest meetings you had attended in their respective clubs

in a strange turn of events that you honestly didn’t understand, your friends convinced you to pick first

personally, you didn’t want to pick a host you had already met because that would just be awkward so you were contemplating based on who seemed to have a personality you might mesh with 

then, a friend whispered in your ear something about the brown-haired host in a suit vest, who was simply smiling at you and messing around with his hands in slight nervousness

you had to admit he was cute, but why him???

“he’s one of the most popular hosts and something about him tells me that you’ll end up liking him”

when you walked up to him to introduce yourself and to tell him you were picking him, you noticed some of the other hosts wiggling their eyebrows at him and whispering quietly amongst themselves in excitement

he bowed and thanked you for your choice, holding out his hand and giving you a bright grin, urging you to follow him

he led you to one of the couches in the back of the room and sat right next to you

“hey, i’m daniel! thank you so much for choosing me! it’ll really help the local animal shelters”

you got excited at hearing about how that was his charity of choice because it was so CUTE and asked him about it

actually, you had gone to the animal conservation club’s room before to ask your friend a question, but you had never seen him before what a shame

daniel got so enthusiastic, telling you about how he occasionally volunteered and even adopted his two pet cats from different shelters

the two of you went on to talk about animals for a bit and then the conversation gradually turned towards other interests that the two of you shared

he loved a game you mentioned having played before and went on about how he used to go to internet cafes with his friends in middle school

eventually, your hour together passed by (tbh too quickly for your liking) and daniel’s next customer was there to be entertained

you got up and said your goodbye, but he asked his next customer for a second and spoke a few more words to you

“i just realized i didn’t even flirt with you at all and i feel really bad because was that what you came here for...?”

you were in shock and burst out into laughter

“nO NO NO, it’s fine, honestly, i just really enjoyed your company!”

he blushed a bit at that and gave you another bright smile

“i hope to see you again soon!”

seeking out information from another source (you would rather die than ask one of your friend’s for info on the host club), you found out that they were open three days a week

so you went the next possible day, sneaking past the curious glances of some of your friends when you said you couldn’t hang out with them 

the host club didn’t even have a chance to open the doors and choke you with its perfumes because you practically burst through, checking to see if you were first

once you were inside, all you saw were eleven shocked faces

you tried to save your appearance and look smooth, but you just heard daniel laughing at how funny you looked

“hahHAHAHAHAHA”

“so should i pick a different host this time...?”

that got him to shut up

he coughed into his hand to hide the rest of his laugh and held out his other hand to you

you warily took it and allowed yourself to be led to the same couch

but just as you were sitting down, you saw another friend being led to the couch adjacent to yours

and in your friend’s hand was that of hwang minhyun’s

you gave your friend a surprised look and started wiggling your eyebrows - had your friend fallen for your school’s resident awkward prince?

your friend turned bright red and hushed you,

“oh shUT UP! as if you weren’t running here to make sure you got to daniel first!”

now it was your turn to shut up

your friend stuck out their tongue at you and turned to minhyun, who was biting his lip trying to contain his happiness

daniel chuckled at the whole exchange but then put his hands up in surrender when you glared at him

hurrying to change the topic, you asked him why he joined the host club in the first place 

he shyly smiled and hesitated a bit, finally telling you that he was urged to do it by ong

“oh daniel! your bright and soft personality is endearing to the customers!” he mocked his best friend’s tone of voice and exaggerrated his hand movements

you laughed so hard and he loved your smile, so he decided that that day would be all about making sure it never left your face

he hit you with a few other funny comments and even teased ong behind his back a bit

“honestly, ong just came up with this club for his own enjoyment”

“wAIT ONG’S THE MASTERMIND? everyone thought someone else made it”

“nah, he just wanted a place to ‘hone his flirting skills for the real world’“

that day was a light-hearted day but you knew that you needed to come back - you loved his company too much

so every other day, you’d find yourself rushing out of your last class to get to the host club first

this went on for almost two months and in that time, you found out so much about him and he learned about you

he had a reputation around school for having a heart of gold and you could confirm this 

“we have fake flowers because we’d rather spend money on our charities than re-ordering them every day” he once said

and on your sad days, when you almost didn’t want to go to the host club, he’d somehow know from the second you walked through their doors and silently take your hand to talk to you on your favorite couch

he was great at comforting you, making you smile, and just making you feel warm inside

sometimes you wondered if his words and tone of voice bordered on flirtatious and the idea of him liking you made you blush

but at the same time, you were scared to ever tell him about the feelings that you formed for him

this was his part-time job - chances were, he didn’t actually like you outside of the time you paid for

one day, you heard from a friend who heard from another friend who heard from this girl that daniel was accepting fewer customers by the day

another student said that he was planning on leaving the host club altogether

so you burst back into the multipurpose room that day and found out that daniel wasn’t there

“ah, his favorite cus—“

“sungwoon, shut up!”

you recognized jisung as he pushed aside ong and sungwoon, who were arguing

“daniel isn’t here today, but he should be back next week”

“is he quitting...?”

jisung’s smile dropped for a second, but it reappeared immediately

“i think you he should be the one to tell you that”

your heart almost burst in your chest with hope that maybe the reason daniel was taking fewer and fewer customers was that maybe...JUST MAYBE...he liked you too 

you got the number of the practice room that daniel liked to dance in whenever he was feeling stressed and ran to it

walking in quietly, you felt a little guilty that you were invading daniel’s privacy, but watching him dance made you forget that

he looked so good in a pair of sweats and a casual t-shirt - you were so used to seeing him in formalwear that his normal clothes were a nice surprise

after he finished, he noticed you through the mirror and turned around in shock, exclaiming your name

but you didn’t waste time with small talk

“why aren’t you accepting as many customers as before? why are you quitting the host club?”

he sighed and wiped his hands with a towel before walking up to you, ruffling your hair in affection

“kid, you ask too many questions”

“who’re you calling a kid—”

“i only joined the host club to find you”

“...”

“ong might’ve told me why i should join the host club, but i had my own reason. i saw you before in my club’s room”

“i was only there once, i’ve never seen you before”

he shook his head, “i was there, i was in the storage closet grabbing boxes when i saw you enter for a minute and then leave”

“...and i was so amazed by how attractive you were. your friend told all of my friends - but not me - your name, so all i had to remember you was your face”

he started rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, voice lowering as he got shyer

“and when you walked up to me as your first choice for host, i couldn’t stop wringing my hands and being nervous, so my friends just knew. i don’t know if you heard them quietly teasing me, but that’s why. since then, i’ve just grown to like you more and more...”

“...and i didn’t think it’d be fair to other people if i tried to flirt with them when i already have someone i like, so that’s why i’ve decided to quit”

daniel smiled nervously at you and you couldn’t help but remember how bright, but subtly shy he was when you first met him

all you could hear was your heart beat loudly in your chest and his quiet panting from the exertion of dancing

“are you flirting with me? after all those times i paid you to do it?” you finally broke the silence and teased him; his smile grew wider

“i never flirted with you properly because i didn’t want you to get the idea that i was only doing it for my job. i really like you”

“and i really like you”

he laughed happily and picked you up, spinning you around the dance room - this was the start of your relationship

you went with daniel to hand in the host club uniform - the suit vest he was wearing on the day you two met

“the only person i’m ever going to entertain now is you!”

and the two of you walked out, hand in hand

you now had your own personal host

[survivor-guyana]

Episode 5 - "Another day, another swap." - Jess

Sarah was robbed.

Please tribe swap, please tribe swap.

Not really sure how to feel at this stage...

Jess absolutely botched this challenge for us, and it was probably the worst individual effort in a competition that I have seen in years. For that, she automatically created a target on her back.

HOWEVER, I need to control who goes here, and it won't be Jess. It sounds like Dani and Nick were on opposite sides of the joint tribal, and will likely target one another.

I would personally like to see Alyssa go sooner than later, but there is no context in taking her out right now. She is "Hosororo strong" apparently, but the tables have turned. I'm not sure if I am willing to give her the same mercy that the favs gave us.

Honestly I wouldn't mind losing this so Mitchell goes home but then again I wouldn't mind Arakaka going to tribal either. I also feel like Nick is fucked over at Takama. He has the idol but that'd require someone using it on him which I doubt would happen. He better up his social game! If Arakaka goes to tribal then it should obviously be Aidan bc of his advantage and bc of Jones, Sammy, and Chelsea/JD alliance. Wait is Chelsea a fan? Lol idk.

So Ive been talking to Maynor and TJ individually about having an alliance of us 3 since I put them both high on my list! They both agreed and so I formed the alliance called... JONES'S ANGELS! I feel like we're gonna be a good alliance as well. Oh José is on our tribe as well as Mitchell. José is someone that I talked to the least on our OG tribe and from the looks of the trust list, someone who is not very trusted. Mitchell has his karma coming from the joint tribal round and for voting out Sarah. (PSST Sarah I miss u queen I can't wait to see you in Survivor Michigan.)

Another day, another swap. I've officially been on EVERY single tribe now. I am Guyana's Orphan. Honestly, I'm actually okay with how we swapped this time around.

I'm in the majority both in several ways. 1. I'm in the majority if Devon and I decide to stick with the "Fans" (barf). 2. I'm in the majority if we decide to go to Hosororo Way (yassss bitch) 3. I'm in the majority if Favourites attempt something (meh).

BUT this bitch is literally her OWN ENEMY RIGHT NOW. I flopped that memory competition harder a nerd at Comic Con trying to talk to a female. YIKES. I hope the flu isn't what sends me home or else I'm going to FUCKING RAGE.

I was able to re-connect with Dani which was okay? for me? I guess? Honestly at this point I have no loyalty to the Fans tribe (I don't think I ever had any tbh). I don't think a label in front of someone's name should stop me from trying to further my game. That being SAID....

Nick is on A WHOLE NOTHER' LEVEL Y'ALL. This man literally knew me for 5 seconds and spilled his whole game. I expected more from a dude who owns a buff personally. The only thing he didn't tell me last night was his social insurance number. I kind of feel bad for him but I don't want to let him get far. I rather keep Dani around than him at this point. I don't want that to hurt my relationship with Alyssa so.. I AM STRESSING RIGHT NOW.

Speaking of Alyssa...

MY GIRL ALYSSA GETTING FIRST.. fucking SCARES ME SHITLESS. I would honestly consider her my #1 at this point but now this has me thinking.. am I really HER number 1? Does she have the same relationship with me like she has with others? If we merge does she have my back over people like Jones/JD who she speaks HIGHLY of to me? I have my doubts but I think having someone like her on my side in this crucial time is an ASSET. She is VULNERABLE and I need to make sure I make her feel as fucking comfortable as possible. It's times like these where those strong relationships form and I honestly think if we can possibly

That's my bitch, that's my girl. I honestly think Alyssa is my gate-way drug to the Favourites at this point. I also really just want to meet Jones because I'm convinced she's my future best friend.

Something I haven't touched on.... ever BUT I can't wait to possibly re-connect with TJ. I miss being able to strategize with him. The way he sees games is insane and I have a half of a brain cell so it's always nice to have a smart person do the thinking for you.

I NEED TO FIND A FUCKING ADVANTAGE OR A GOD DAMN IDOL.

I cant believe we won immunity. I was really scared that we would have to go to tribal. Me, TJ, and Tim made an alliance called Jones’s Angels and i cant wait to be reunited with Jones. Mitchell is acting like last vote wasnt against me but it was like. How can you say theres 100% trust when there isnt. The Jenna vote was not  as much of a suprise for Mitchell cuz i mentioned my worries about Jenna. Im being buddy buddy but if we lost next round. He is going home for sure. Once you brake my trust, you cant really get it back. Sorry mitchell buddy. And i have eyes on Aidan and Dani. Karma for Sarah is coming.

WOW! That's all I have to say right now. This game is really putting me through the ringer but I'm in it to win it and this fucking tribe swap threw me for a loop. I knew the trust lists would come into play but I didn't know right away. But I sort of made such a power move on my tribe and then got shuffled into this and I saw the numbers and went FUCK.

Like four favorites versus little old me! But I like a challenge... I'm not Sarah, I'm not going to let myself get swapfucked. *gives the camera a shady look*

Having the Opal Idol in my pocket is amazing and I'm glad I went for that temptation. Everyone knows I have it but honestly I think there's an advantage to standing out. I feel like this series is used to a lot of UTR, lowkey players and people lying low and that's just not my thing... I honestly can't lay low to save my life. So my plan is to go after them. Honestly since I was low on the trust list it makes sense to go after people high on the trust list. I'm honestly not that bitter but if I can use it to justify targeting some people, I'm going to do it.

I'm not sure of my tribe because everybody is meh so far? I don't know if I'm dry or they're just all in alliances but I can't get a read on them for shit. I saw how well they all did in their past games and JD is giving me this loner act but she's been to an FTC so I know she's not as dumb as she's letting on. For some reason the fact that there are more girls than guys concerns me because I feel like those bitches could link up?

I guess I like Chelsea the best but maybe that's because she seems a little more exciting. Sammy does too but he seems like a game threat. I think I'm reluctant to share anything with anyone because I'm not sure of their relationships with each other. I think I want Jonesy out though... she has this cutesy act that is relatable and did pretty well on her first season. She was high on the trustlist too.

In all... I feel isolated but not intimidated.

Nobody has asked about the temptation but I'm ready to lie about it being a vote steal like I told Dani and Mitchell. I need to start keeping my lies in order because they're going to be PISSED when I reveal what it really is but hopefully they understand... if I ever see them again. I'm worried about Dani AND Jess over there at Takama because Devon is crafty. They are some people I hope I can rekindle with at merge. I'd consider working with Maynor but he seems like the type to want revenge.

WE WINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN fuck yeah also i wanna elaborate on something i said in my last confessional about using Aidan as a shield bc idk if I ever explained that Aidan has proclaimed that his tribe did not trust him at all, AND he has an advantage, right? so obviously, people would want to vote him out because of it. HOWEVER, if I get him to trust me/on my side, not only can we work together, BUT everyone will always target him over myself, so yeah, logic ;)

Unfortunately we didn't lose and just as I feared Nick's tribe lost. Welp you had a good run Nick.

So this round has been messed up.  I was swapped to a tribe with 1 person I talked to breifly on our original tribe and had an alliance with to search for idols.  The other 3 players were all people I never spoke to.  Furthermore Dani even voted vote for a few tribals ago.  After a botched challenge I’m hoping that it’s going to be Dani tonight and not me.  I’ve spoken with Jess and Devon and get good vibes that they want to play together.  Let’s hope their not playing me.

So pretty much I’ve been able to establish a strong relationship with Maynor this game... now I just need a majoritu on this tribe to be able to cause some damage within the merge, so we’ll see how things go when I reach that phase 😤 I want to work with TJ tbh, but we’ll see how that goes I guess haha

Ugh I hope Jess and devon aren’t ducking with me but I think it’s me or nick. Really hoping it’s nick. Sorry for typos drubk

Ummmm, so what did i do? Nothing, what have I done? Nothing, I didnt do the challenge ether cus like, wow I do not have a shity memory. But we won so yay team! 

[hellaciousjalapeno]

The shift from hell.

 Had a table of 4, 2 children and 2 adults. They wanted broccoli with their shrimp instead of fries. I said okay. I rang it in correctly. The kitchen fucked up and brought them fries instead. I fixed the issue in less than a minute. Also, the lady asked me in VERY serious voice if there was alcohol in the shrimp. I went over to their table 3 times to make sure everything was okay (on top of making drinks and tending to bar guests.) They said everything was Great!! They pay, I get their receipt, they leave 5$ on 80$. They also write “see back” and bullet pointed the reasons they did not tip me properly. 

#1 Food took too long - No it didn’t, per the time on the ticket, it took 12 minutes.

#2 Order came out wrong - Not my fault, and it was fixed within a minute. Shut the fuck up.

#3 Service was “not the best” - Really, so why didn’t you say anything the THREE times I came over to your table to ask how you were doing? Bullshit. Cheap fucks. Just an excuse not to tip.

Had another table. They were different, very nice and pleasant for the most part, except for the wife, who acted like she was wired on cocaine and was a snarky bitch. At the end of the meal they ask for a Virgin Pineapple Pina Colada to-go. This is a FROZEN PINEAPPLE with a HUGE WHOLE IN THE MIDDLE with a FROZEN BEVERAGE. I tell them I’m not sure how they want me to wrap that up to-go, as it is literally an open pineapple, not to mention the pineapple is frozen and will quickly thaw and the fucking pina colada is frozen and will melt. I scramble for 15 minutes to try and figure out how to wrap this bullshit up. Then they see me make the drink but I don’t top it with whipped cream or any garnishes because how the hell am I going to wrap that up? Specifically the whipped cream. They say they want the whipped cream and garnishes. I say well would you like me to put them on the side for you. “No, we want them wrapped up.” They also tell me they are very confused about my saying the drink is going melt. At this point I’m pretty sure they can tell I’m visibly frustrated so I just bring them the drink and tin foil and tell them they can wrap it up however they think is best. They then proceed to just drink the fucking drink in the restaurant and go, “Haha, guess we didn’t need it to go afterall!” FUCK. YOU.

There were two other shitty tables that I literally do not have the physical or mental capacity to write about right now. But I just hate everything. And have to be at work at 10 am tomorrow. Can’t fucking wait.

Edit: Now I have the time and energy to wrtie about the two other shitty tables.

Table #1: A young couple. The man orders chicken tenders (which I advise against because they’re gross, more on that later). The woman orders crab. Food comes out, everything’s fine. The woman then calls me over and very rudely asks me why the crab is “so small” (it wasn’t, it was normal sized.) I tell her that’s the average size of the crab. She just stares at me and says “I expected more. I mean, I’ve never had crab before, but I expected it to be bigger.” What?! You’ve never seen this before. but you’re saying it’s too small. Okay. I tell her there’s not anything I can really do about the size of the crab. She just stares at me again but doesn’t say anything, as if I’m supposed to hop in my car, drive to Maryland, go crab fishing, and deliver her bigger crabs. So I ask if she would like to speak to a manager. She says yes, manager talks to her, tells her the same thing I said about us not being able to do anything about the size of the crab, and tells her she’s more than welcome to order more crab. She orders snow, an even smaller crab but whatever. They eat. At the end they ask for boxes. The guy hasn’t eaten any of his chicken tenders presumably because he didn’t like them but said everything was fine when I asked so whatever. Bring them boxes, drop the check, the woman is wondering why nothing was taken off her bill. Why would anything be taken off your bill? You willingly ordered more crab knowing it would cost money, ate almost all your food and were taking the rest home, and there were no errors on my part or the restaurants part so… Anyway, her bill is 60.80$. She leaves me 61$. Thanks for the 20 cents, yknow, cus I did something wrong, and thanks for also stiffing the two other bartenders on since we split tips.

Table #2: An older couple. I go up to them, start my spiel, “Hi my name’s Lin-”. “I WANT THIS RED DRINK, A COKE, NO ICE, THIS APPETIZER, COCONUT SHRIMP, GINGER ALE, NO ICE, SIDE SALAD, EXTRA CHEESE, AND THIS CRAB, IT BETTER COME OUT HOT.” It was the man who interrupted me, and yes, his voice was close to yelling. I tell them I’ll be right back with their drinks. He tells me I’m gonna mess up the order because I didn’t write anything down. I repeat his order back to him and he shuts up. The woman doesn’t want ice in her ginger ale and our ginger ale comes in small bottles so her cup was only filled halfway. She wants to know why I’m being “cheap” with the ginger ale. I explain. She grumbles something I didn’t catch and the man says in a sarcastic tone, “Whenever you feel like it you can go ahead and bring me that salad I ordered.” It’s been like 2 minutes. But okay. I run to the kitchen and tell them the guy at my table is a douche and they give me the salad with extra cheese. It’s still not enough cheese for the man so I go back to the kitchen and say, “Just fill this entire souffle cup to the top with cheese” because I’m having a shitty day, this table is rude, and that’s my way of letting this dude know he’s an ass. Eventually their main course comes out, the man looks at his crab and says, “You call this crab?” I ask if he wants a manager. He says no, forget it. Surprisingly he does not complain about the temperature of the crab. They tip me 17% or something at the end so at least they were decent enough to do that, but still.

Side note, I also got into an argument with another bartender who acts like she’s better than me and treats me like a barback because, in her words, “I’m not trying to be a bitch, but I don’t think YOU should be on bartop on Saturdays.” Not sure why she felt the need to say that, or the reason behind it. Only thing I could think is because I work more morning shifts and she works more nights, and she just doesn’t want to take tables. But it pissed me off, especially given I worked for 2 years to move up to bartender, she came out of nowhere, served for 2 months, asked to be a bartender and they said yes because all our bartenders were leaving at once, we both trained at the same time, both had no bar experience prior, but somehow she seems to have this arrogant attitude as if she’s been bartending for years. You know that person who turns into a total asshole when they’re in the weeds but has too much pride to ask for help? That’s her in a nutshell. I gave myself two hours to calm down before I told her I didn’t appreciate her comment or attitude and she swears to me she “didn’t mean for it to come off that way.” Right. Whatever. I talked to my GM about it and he agreed with me but also expressed concern because I have less bartop experience since I mostly open. I told him (respectfully) that that’s just my schedule, I didn’t ask for it, and I need to move outside of my comfort zone and learn if I want to be a great bartender. So long story short, I’ll be on the bartop next weekend, and my shift sucked.

[kimbapcrying]

Journalism!Taehyung

so taehyung is basically like THE photographer for the newspaper. Like he’s always at all the events all the time and like every athlete and club president knows him

he always has a camera bag with him, to catch anything that could happen like oh? u say wrestling is having a match right now in the gym?

taehyung’s on it

people are always like “how do u make it to literally everything” and taehyung is out here with a huge smile like “i just love watching all the cool things that happen in this school! lemme tell you hoW COOL oUR S CHOOL IS”

and he’ll go on long tangents about everything he’s gotten to document and do photo essays of and the cool pictures he’s edited and he’s just a big ol’ cutie who’s fascinated by everything and wants to show the world every cool thing that happens

he’s probably cried bc some of his photos couldn’t fit on a spread and the editor in chief was like “all these pics are good but like we can’t put everything in...” and he’ll just be so sad that he couldn’t showcase everything but he’ll be like I’ll find a way! and he’ll stay after school for hours editing and try to make everything work while keeping a flow

and when he gets  it done he’s like “seE? it works”

and everyone on the staff just loves this big ol puppy!

so like you know of taehyung, but like u don’t really Know him, but like everyone knows about taehyung bc he’s like The Photography Man

And you saw him once at like a football game bc you were told to film the game to make a highlight reel for the broadcast and he was there taking photos and u were like w ow he s kinda,,, cu te...

and like ur probably staring at him a bit too much while he’s taking photos because he just looks so happy and he’s glowing and you’re like “wOwie” but then he just like looks your way and gives u this big boxy grin and you awkwardly look back at your camera and keep shooting but your heart is like !!!

and like u keep kinda stealing glances at taehyung but ur friend jimin is talking to you over the headset and telling you to pay attention because your shots are wacky and you’re like “s-sorry,,,”

after the game you go to get food with jimin and your heart is still kinda fluttering bc wow! a cute boy! smiled at you and you’re telling jimin about it but he’s like “lots of people go after taehyung :/” and you’re like “oh :/” so you kind of give up on it

fast forward about a week and you’re like stressing about a video about the communications department that you still haven’t finished and oh god the final draft is due the next day but you still need one more interview, but your last person bailed on you so you’re like

running to find someone to get an interview with

and you’re definitely starting to panic

and u run into someone and accidentally knock them over and you’re like ‘oH god i’m so sor ry”

and u just hear like the cutest and m ost angelic laugh

and u look down to see who u knocked over and it’s taehyung and you’re like “oOh no”

and you’re a blushing mess and you just keep apologizing to him and honestly you sound like you’re so overwhelmed that you might cry and taehyung is like

o h,,, my god,, please don’t cry

so taehyung is just like “hey it’s okay I’m fine!” and he gives you that boxy smile and your heart

melts

and you finally calm down a little but you’re still like “o h god i still need an interview” and taehyung is like “for what? :0″ and you’re like “i gotta get a last minute interview for my video over communications...”

and taehyung is like “hey! i’m in journalism and that’s communications! i could help you out!”

and he kinda drags you back to the broadcasting room and sits himself down in the interview chair and you’re still kind of starstruck by him and also how he’s just,, so forward,,,,

but you get your interview done and taehyung just has! so many interesting things to say and you can tell he’s super passionate about what he does! and it’s exciting

at the end you get an amazing interview and you’re relieved that it turned out so well and you keep thanking taehyung and he’s like “it’s no problem! i’m glad i could help” and he’s always so smilely and you keep staring at h is, fa ce,,,

even though you finish your video, you guys just keep talking about journalism and getting news out and you end up sitting there for like an hour just being like wow! journalism and he tells you about how he wants to become a part of something big and show the world how cool everything can be and how not everything is terrible and it’s just so

heartwarming

eventually he’s just like “hey! we’ve been at school for a while how about we go get food? i really like talking to you!”

and you’re like oH wow okay yeah that sounds like fun

so you guys gather all your stuff and taehyung takes you to this cute little cafe and he just takes your hand and is like “this place is really nice! i like to edit here”

and you’re like yo u are h olding m y hand

but you just let him because even though you’ve only actually talked to him for like an hour you’re just really comfortable with him? so you just let him

and y’all order and sit down kind of in the back corner and he’s just all smiles and good times and you have a really fun night with him!

he’s just a big ol sweetie

but you kind of tell yourself to not get in too deep and you're kind of like “he’s probably just,,,, nice to everyone, it’s fine, it’s okay”

he takes you home at the end of the night and he’s like “hey! lemme give you my number so we can hang out more!”

so you hand him your phone and he types in his number and he fuckin puts his name in as taetae with the cutest dog emoji and you’re like

m y hea rt ca nnot take th is

after this, the two of you become really close friends. he always takes you to events and if u need help with an interview he’ll always be there to get people to come and it’s just an all around good time

one day taehyung texts you like “hey, wanna go to this cool art event ;)” and you’re thinking that it’ll be an event that he wants to photograph so you’re like “yeah! sounds like fun” and taehyung sends you like a million heart emojis with a message that says “i’ll pick u up at 5″

(which at this point you’re probably super used to the emoji spam)

so you get ready in something kinda casual and wait til 5

and boY does he show up at 5

you get a text and it’s like “hey! im here” and you open the door and he’s all dressed up with like a nice button up and hes holding flowers and you’re like “w hat” and he’s like.., .,., h ey

and you’re wearing shorts and a tshirt and you’re like “taehyung,,,, im so underdressed also,,, why,,,”

and taehyung is really cute and blushing and he’s like “i ve liked you for a while now,, and i thought you,,,,,,, knew,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,”

an d at this point you’re both like blushing and kinda awkward but it’s cute you’re cute

you’re like “why didn’t you tell me that this was.. a date”

and taehyung is just lik e “i thought the emojis made it clear!”

You: “it diD NOT”

so you’re like “okay let me dress up a lil nicer then” but taehyung grabs your hand before you can go inside and he’s like “no! you look perfect let’s go”

and he drags you out into his car and drives out into the city to this little art gallery and he takes you out to dinner and it’s really cute you guys do that thing where you brush hands when you’re walking and eventually taehyung just takes ur hand and gives you the biggest smile and you’re like ye ah i’m so dead for this bo y he s so dam n cute

you two are at a little park next to a pond and it’s getting pretty late, but you two are just laying on the grass and no one is around and the stars are out it’s so cute

eventually taehyung turns to face you and just kinda stares at you and you turn to him and you’re like “what”

and he’s not just like giving you his usual smile it’s like a serious stare and he just leans in and gives u a soft kiss

you’re mind is going like !!!

and it’s the fluffiest kiss you’ve ever had taehyung is just a big sweetie pie

and he’s like “i’ve wanted to do that for so long” and you’re like “stop being cheesy you idiot”

after that u two are like the cutest fuckening couple in the whole damn school

whenever you’re editing taehyung will be there and he’ll be all over you and you two will be giggly idiots and jimin is like “jesus chRist please sTOP this”

and taehyung is like “never” and gives you a kiss and jimin is like gross just let me edit in peace

and you’re all blushy and it’s cute trust me this is adorable

and whenever the new issue of the newspaper comes out you’re like “chECK out this AMAZING NEWSPAPER that my BEAUTIFUL and TALENTED BOYFRIEND, KIM TAEHYUNG, worked on” and taehyung will do the same like when he sees you on the broadcast he will 100% start screaming like “LOOK AT HOW AMAZING MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER IS”

and you two are just so supportive of each other’s work and motivate each other it’s really just so cute how much you guys want to help each other out

Journalism!Jimin (link)

[battleshidge]

plight of the pizza

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Shidge (Shiro/Pidge) Rating: Teen and up; for language. Summary: Cooking was like chemistry, which she’d aced last semester, so she figured that it would be easy to whip something up. You followed a specific formula and would achieve edible success–simple. And even simpler was putting a monstrosity called a frozen meal in the oven at the right temperature and waiting for it to be done. Piece of cake, she thought.

Only...it wasn't.

Author’s Notes: From the prompt Character A tries, and fails, to cook dinner for Character B, resulting in a hoard of takeout food and a promise to never use the stove again for @shiroganeholt​ and @ohdearkamiwhy, who asked for it way back in like, August. I’m sorry it took me so long! I never forgot, I just got distracted and busy and here it is.

I hope you guys enjoy it!

Also on Ao3!

(shiroganeholt and ohdearkamiwhy, if you guys have Ao3 accounts, if you could comment or message and tell me the name so I can edit the Ao3 post to be gifted to you guys, I’d appreciate it!)

It had been a while since Pidge had tinkered in the kitchen.

She was a very technical sort of person. Machines were kind of her thing. But cooking was like chemistry, which she’d aced last semester, so she figured that it would be easy to whip something up. You followed a specific formula and would achieve edible success–simple. And even simpler was putting a monstrosity called a frozen meal in the oven at the right temperature and waiting for it to be done. Piece of cake, she thought.

Only...it wasn’t.

As the open oven allowed the plumes of dark grey smoke to disperse, Pidge stared blankly at what was supposed to be pizza. The center looked like it might conceivably pass as food, but the edges were blackened and the pepperonis were curling in on themselves, shriveled and much darker than she thought they should be.

She spared a glance for the smoke detector, abandoned and in pieces on the counter. That horrendous beeping would have given her a headache, if she’d let it persist. So she’d disassembled the device, because that was something she could fix later.

The pizza, however, looked like a loss.

“Holy crow,” she murmured, pulling the pan out and sliding it onto the stovetop, biting her lip. “What did I do wrong?”

She had set the timer for fourteen minutes, just like the box had said. And she was certain she’d had the right temperature. It should have been as easy as following the instructions on the box, so where could she have possibly gone wrong?

Pidge didn’t exactly have time to right this wrong. Shiro would be back to the apartment in about ten minutes, give or take a few, and would start asking her questions. Why does it smell like something burnt? he’d probably start with, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her. And despite how easy fibbing to her friends was, usually as a joke, she couldn’t do the same to Shiro. She’d probably end up spilling that she was trying to surprise him because they’d officially been dating for six months.

Six months.

Even now, it seemed impossible. Six months ago, she’d been a college freshman that was hopelessly head over heels for the teacher’s assistant in her Altean history class, and now here she was, a sophomore whose feelings had long since been reciprocated. It was almost unreal.

Shiro was in the middle of his obligatory student teaching semester, preparing for his career and life as a history teacher, and he’d been asked by his classroom mentor to attend a faculty meeting after school. He’d accepted, of course, because he liked to be useful and he liked to be prepared. And so Pidge had taken it upon herself to fix them dinner tonight, in celebration of six months together and the progress he had made.

Burnt pizza didn’t make for a good celebratory dinner, though.

After a few more moments of staring, wondering what she’d done wrong, Pidge pulled out her phone. If there was anyone who could help her come up with something in the next five minutes, it was the infallible Hunk. So she scrolled through her contacts and found his name in record time, pressing the Call button and lifting the phone to her ear impatiently.

“Hey, Pidge, what’s up?” he asked after the third ring, his tone familiar and warm.

“I need advice,” she said brusquely, prodding her catastrophic attempt at cooking with a spatula. “I’m trying to make something for Shiro for dinner and I burned this stupid pizza. He’s supposed to be home in about five minutes. Is there anything I can at least start in that timespan that might hide the smell of the burnt pizza and be ready pretty soon after he gets here?”

Hunk remained silent for a few moments, and she heard a few clanking sounds. He was probably cooking, too. But there was chatter in the background, so maybe he was at the store or something instead?

“How did you mess up on a pizza? I doubt you made it from scratch–sorry, Pidge–so how did you misread the oven instructions? Nevermind, I’m not sure I want to know, really. Um...do you have pasta? Pasta is pretty simple. Put some tomato sauce in a pan and let it simmer on low heat while you boil water and a dash of salt and put the pasta noodles in. Even you shouldn’t be able to mess that up.”

“Hey–”

“–sorry, sorry. Anyway, just let the sauce simmer for a bit on low while you boil the pasta. Easy-peasy. Even Lance can do it, so it should be easy enough for you to handle.”

A muffled, “Hey, I heard that!” sounded from the other end of the line, but Pidge merely snorted and focused on Hunk’s voice.

“Hush, Lance! But Pidge, as long as you keep the pasta from sticking to the sides of the pan while you boil it, you should be fine. Don’t overcook it, or it will be mush. But you’d have to let it boil for ages to get to that point, so you should be fine.”

“Somehow I’m not sensing much confidence,” she drawled, lips folding into a frown as she held the phone on her shoulder to rummage for the pasta in the cabinets.

“You burned a pizza, Pidge. One that you just have to put in the oven for like, fifteen minutes at the right temperature,” Hunk’s tone was flat. “Sorry if that doesn’t lend me confidence about your skills in the kitchen. Anyway, while the sauce is simmering, you should be able to add some cu–ow, Lance, what the hell–cumin, just for a bit of flavor. Personal family recipe, don’t tell Mom I told you that!”

Cinnamon? Pidge thought, Is that what he said? I didn’t think cinnamon went in pasta, but I’m a terrible cook.

“Yeah, yeah. Anything else you can tell me?”

“I’ve told you pretty much everything. It’s up to you. Make sure the pasta has enough water and a dash of salt, stir the sauce occasionally to make sure it doesn’t stick, and you should make it through. Lance is trying to run me over with the shopping cart now, though, so I’ve got to finish shopping. Later, Pidge! Good luck with the pasta!”

“Thanks, Hunk. I’ll let you know how it turns out,” she managed. “Later!”

The phone clicked into silence soon after, and she let out a disgruntled huff of air through her nose.

Formulas and calculations she could do with ease. Mixing chemicals and using a bunsen burner was nothing. But somehow cooking was proving to be a lot harder than expected.

With one last sigh, she gathered all that Hunk had told her she needed and got some water in the pan she’d be cooking the pasta in. Pidge placed it on one of the burners, turning it on to let the water start heating up. For a moment she paused, trying to remember whether she needed to wait for the water to start boiling before she dumped the pasta in. After a few moments, though, Pidge decided that it wouldn’t hurt and did so anyway. She poured some tomato sauce into another pan and placed it on an adjacent burner, turning up the heat to let the sauce start simmering. Shiro was supposed to be back any minute now, so after a moment she decided to turn the heat almost all the way up.

“I hope this is right,” she murmured, glancing at the ruined pizza on the cabinet. She started to step towards it to clear it away, but then remembered Hunk’s other tips and turned to reach for the seasoning instead.

She dashed some salt into the pasta pan. She wasn’t sure how much she needed, so she gave it three or four good shakes just to be safe before reaching for the cinnamon. With that in hand, Pidge actually hesitated for a few moments. It still sounded so weird, but who was she to judge? Hunk had said it was his family’s secret ingredient, and he was nicer than Lance. He wouldn’t play a trick on her to ruin her pasta.

After two shakes of the cinnamon, which she mixed into the tomato sauce, Pidge stirred both pans a little before moving to deal with her earlier mess.

Tentatively, Pidge reached out to touch the pizza pan. It had already cooled enough for her to hold the metal, and she reached for the metal spatula in order to lift the pizza and discard it.

The only problem, however, was that it was stuck.

“What the hell?” she murmured aloud, brow furrowing. Pidge redoubled her effort, wiggling the spatula and working it under the edge of the burnt crust. If she’d expected it to get easier after that, she was wrong, because she had to continue wiggling to get under the pizza. And when she was able to flip some of it over, she saw that the entire bottom was black.

Pidge groaned.

Muttering to herself, a string of swears and admonishments, she continued to pry the blackened crust from the metal pan. It was a slow process and she grew gradually more agitated as she worked.

Until she glanced over to the stove as the first drops of water rolled down the side of the pasta pan.

“Fuck,” she cursed again, abandoning the pizza and slipping back to the pasta on the stove. Pidge stirred it quickly, noting with disdain how a few noodles were sticking to the bottom and sides of her pan. “Fuck,” she repeated, trying to gently scrape the pieces away from the edges. Once satisfied, she glanced at the sauce, gave it a quick stir and grimacing when it felt like some of it had already been sticking to the pan. But as long as it was edible, she could count the endeavor as at least partially successful and not a disaster.

Pidge returned to prying the pizza from its pan, depositing the ruins in the trashcan that she had pulled over. There was nothing else she could do with it. Even strays wouldn’t have been able to eat that. It was so burnt it was probably poisonous. Not to mention that she didn’t even know if dogs or cats could safely eat pepperoni or cheese or any of that stuff. Some of the simplest things had the worst side effects, sometimes.

She noticed the smell next.

Something...burning? Burnt? Pidge paused, leaning forward to sniff at the last few pieces of pizza on the pan. And, once she’d deduced that the new stench wasn’t coming from her first ruined meal, her head whipped towards the stove again and she dropped the pan and spatula on the counter as she moved over to it.

She stirred the pasta–a little bit of sticking, but so far, so good.

Furrowing her brow, Pidge started to stir the sauce only to find that it was being stubborn. When she forcefully scraped some of the food from the pan, she stared blankly at it for a minute.

“Motherfucker,” she hissed, turning off the burner and staring at the lumps of black in the sauce. “Of all fucking days for me to mess up,” she muttered angrily, rummaging for some serving dishes in the cabinet. Once she had placed her dish of choice on the cabinet, she started to scoop the pasta out into it.

Halfway through, she realized that she could have used a strainer, but the scooping was mindless and helped her vent some of her frustrations, so she continued anyway. Doing it like this also helped her gauge how done her noodles were. There were some with dark spots, and she assumed those had been stuck to the sides, and some that looked...rubbery? But she tried one, and it was at least edible, if a little salty.

She turned, then, to the travesty that was her tomato sauce. The pungent smell of burning food was even more pronounced now and she wrinkled her nose as she reached for the pan.

“Dammit,” was the swear of choice this time. And then Pidge carefully tilted the pan over the pasta, pouring out what remained of the tomato sauce–or at least what still looked edible–before returning the pan to the stove and sighing, staring at her concoction. Pidge felt incredibly weary as she fished out a fork, and a little more than nervous. She knew her own prowess in the kitchen, and she knew better than to test her luck on most days. But today wasn’t most days.

As soon as she’d managed to spear a piece of pasta with her fork, dragging it through the meagre drizzle of sauce for good measure, she took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth.

The first thing she noticed was that it tasted burnt. She wrinkled her nose and kept her eyes closed while she tried to decipher the rest of the flavors that were assaulting her tastebuds. There was too much salt–that’s what she tasted next. And then...cinnamon. Of all things, cinnamon. It didn’t work with the sauce, it was extra awful with the salt, and Pidge felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

She forced herself to swallow and slammed her fork down.

The next course of action had her pulling her phone to her ear, fighting back the frustrated tears, as she waited for the call to connect.

“Pidge! How did it go?” Hunk’s voice was carefully level, and it only made her eyes burn more.

Softly, grudgingly, Pidge admitted, “I fucked up again.”

Her voice was a lot smaller than she’d hoped, and it cracked, and she knew if it had been Lance she never would have lived that particular moment down. But this was Hunk–kind, benevolent Hunk.

As much as she hated to admit it, though, she was calling to get the warm rush of feeling that his comforting skills always provided. He was the best person to go to–aside from Shiro and her family, of course–when she was feeling particularly down. So she listened as he hummed softly in understanding and started to reassure her with little sentences–”It’s okay, maybe next time. I’ll teach you sometime, Pidge. Don’t worry about it. Just clean everything up and wash the dishes and everything will be okay”–and she felt her frustration start to ease.

“Pidge?” the voice rang through the hall, decidedly not belonging to the man on the phone, and she cursed. Hunk cut off in the middle of comforting her.

“What’s wrong, Pidge?”

“Thanks for the help, Hunk. Shiro’s home, so I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure thing, Pidge. You’ll be fine. Later!”

“Bye.”

She had just hung the phone up when Shiro poked his head into the kitchn, sniffing.

“Something smells burnt,” he observed, not unkindly, as he stepped into the room. He observed the scene as she shoved her hands in the pockets of her overlarge hoodie and failed to meet his eyes. He saw what was left of the pizza on the pan first, and with a glance she could see that he was putting the pieces together when he spotted the pasta.

Without asking anymore questions, and before Pidge could speak, he stepped forward and swept her into a hug, spinning her around.

“Wha–Shiro?” she asked, weakly, as she wrapped her arms around him.

“I thought you told me you couldn’t cook,” he said cheerfully, releasing her as he looked over at the pasta.

“I can’t,” she muttered, busy staring at her socks. “I messed up.”

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Shiro offered, gesturing to the meagre serving of pasta she’d dished up. He reached for the fork and she moved to stop him, opening her mouth to argue but unable to find the words to say.

Finally, as he looked at her inquisitively, Pidge settled for, “It tastes burnt. And I seasoned it wrong.”

“Well, you tried to cook for us, so the least I can do is try it.”

Shiro said it easily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. With a reluctant sigh, she moved to let him pick up her discarded fork and watched with a bit of guilt as he took a bite. At first he seemed relatively unfazed, and then she watched his eyebrows rise in confusion. He chewed a little more slowly, and realized he was trying to process the taste information he was receiving.

He swallowed after a few minutes and cleared his throat a little. “That was...interesting.”

“I told you I messed up,” Pidge decided that her socks were more entertaining yet again. She did spare him a glance, though, and then held his gaze.

“Well, that’s nothing that a little bit of practice can’t fix,” he said optimistically, smiling down at her as he placed the fork back in its previous position. He opened his mouth to speak again but paused, brow furrowing, as he sniffed. Confused, Pidge followed suit and found herself wrinkling her nose.

Her eyes trailed, in horror, down to the burner she thought she’d turned off.

“Fuck,” she repeated for probably the hundredth time, lunging around her boyfriend to click the burner off.

The burnt sauce in the pan had bubbled, and after a few moments Pidge realized, with horror, that the non-stick Teflon was bubbled and warped, not the sauce.

“Oh no,” she breathed, eyes prickling again. “Shit. Fuck. I mean...shit.”

A warm, heavy hand descended upon her shoulder, and she didn’t dare look up at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Pidge, I’ve got another pan that same size. Your mother makes sure I have plenty of cookware, remember?”

“Because she knows I can’t cook,” Pidge mumbled numbly.

“And because she’s a kind woman who likes to make sure you and all your friends are well taken care of,” Shiro added smoothly, slipping his arm around her shoulders as he moved the ruined pan to the sink to cool. “So for now, why don’t we order some thai and watch some SyFy  movies while you promise me not to mess around with the kitchen while I’m not at home. Okay?”

Pidge nudged Shiro in the ribs, snorting as she ducked out from under his arm. His methods were different than Hunk’s, of course, but they could never go wrong with thai and SyFy.

“Well, sure. You order the thai–I’ve gotta go grab something real quick.”

Shiro quirked an eyebrow at her, questioningly, but was already pulling his phone from the pocket of his black slacks. She beamed and dragged herself up on her tiptoes using his tie–which also pulled him down a little–to press a kiss to his cheek. She mouthed I’ll be right back as he smiled and pulled his phone up to his ear, and then she slipped into the bedroom, where her backpack was tossed haphazardly in the middle of the bed.

It took her only a few minutes, but she finally pulled out the box. It rattled and she grinned, turning and making her way back down the apartment hallway. She reached the living room from one direction just as Shiro stepped out of the kitchen, and he smiled at her again.

“The thai will be here in about forty minutes or so,” he announced, sliding his phone onto the wooden coffee table. “Now...what is it you had to rush off to do?”

“I went to get this,” she responded, crossing the distance between them to offer him the metal box in her hands. He glanced at it, then back to the tentative but excited grin on her face, and accepted it even though there was confusion written all over his face.

“What is it?” he asked slowly, reaching for the latch.

“You’ll see,” Pidge retorted simply. With a chuckle, Shiro opened the box and started to look through the bits and bobs inside. When he glanced back up at her, she found the words tumbling from her mouth without bidding. “I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I know you’ve been saying you wanted to get your prosthetic fixed and we already had the list of parts we needed, so I talked to dad about getting them for you. All the wires we need to remodel the inside should be there, plus some upgraded components, since you refused the last time the Garrison offered. And it’s just...well, it’s not an anniversary because those are annual, but it’s been six months now and I just thought I should try to do something for you because you’ve done a lot for me, and–”

Her words were muffled by his warm chest, and she sank into the hug, wrapping her arms around him and forgetting whatever she was planning to say next. She’d long lost her rehearsed speech, anyway, and had just been babbling.

“Thank you, Katie,” his tone was soft, and she squeezed him even closer.

“Thank you,” her voice was a lot smaller than she’d expected, but it was enough.

“I–” Shiro started, but the obnoxious clanging of the apartment’s doorbell cut him off. He extricated himself from the hug with an apologetic grin–it wasn’t even his fault, he didn’t have to feel bad about it–and moved to answer the door.

“Hi, thanks for ordering Hunan’s,” a familiar delivery woman stood there, offering Shiro a brown paper bag with a bright smile.

“I, uh, didn’t order Chinese,” Shiro offered her an awkward grin, and she laughed.

“Oh, I know. Your friend Hunk came to the shop and ordered it for you in person, and he already paid for it,” she pushed the bag into Shiro’s arms. “It’s your usual, anyway. You’ve got good friends, don’tcha?” with another laugh, she waved, “You guys have a good night!”

“Th-thanks,” Shiro leaned out the door, watching the delivery lady leave, and Pidge stood in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded, as Shiro turned around with the Hunan’s bag in his arms.

It smelled amazing after the concoctions Pidge had ruined.

“Well, I guess we’ll have Chinese and thai?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess,” Shiro shook his head with a grin. “I’m going to have to pay Hunk back for this.”

Pidge snorted, reaching up to unroll the bag in Shiro’s arms and peer in at the three boxes. One would be their fried rice, and the other two would be their normal entrées. She could smell them. Satisfied, she dropped back to her feet and rocked on her heels with a very pointed, “Hunk will never take your money.”

“I know,” he sighed, “but I still have to try.”

“Well, before that, you should probably change out of your nice clothes into something comfy. Especially if we’re going to chow down and watch SyFy movies!”

Shiro agreed, and with a grin, pushed the paper bag into her arms. “You get everything set up in here, then, and I’ll go get changed.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she let out an exaggerated groan and dragged out her spoken, “Fiiiiine.”

As he disappeared down the hallway and into the bedroom, Pidge deposited the takeout on the table, pulling it from the bag and rejoicing when she found the chopsticks at the bottom, as well as some plastic cutlery. It wouldn’t do to dirty any more dishes tonight, after all. And then she went about finding all of the SyFy movies they had, whether on DVD, Blu-Ray, or on the Roku.

One of the things she looked forward to most about their SyFy movie nights was the intense debate over which ones they’d watch.

Ten minutes later, they had just settled on a movie–Something Beneath–when the doorbell rang again. They shared a confused look, but then Pidge shrugged and got up to answer the door.

When she opened the door, she saw another delivery person...but he wasn’t wearing the thai restaurant’s uniform. Instead he was wearing Pizza My Heart’s uniform.

“Can I help you?” she asked tentatively.

“Is this where Shee-ro and Podge live?” he asked, trying to read a messy scrawl on his notepad. Pidge winced.

“I’m Pidge,” she answered instead, “and we didn’t order a pizza.”

“Nah, it says here that your friend Lens–or is it Lanny? Laney?–anyway, your friend ordered you a large pepperoni pizza. Here you go,” he handed her the box and, without looking back, turned and said, “Have a nice night!”

“Lance?” she said blankly at his back, but he didn’t hear. And then, when she stepped back inside and closed the door, Shiro first looked shocked at the box in her hand. The expression soon morphed into one of amusement.

“Let me guess, Lance?”

“Unless we have a friend named Lens, Lanny, or Laney, then yes, it was probably Lance,” she snorted, recovering from her own surprise to bring the pizza to the table. “And now we’ll have Chinese, pizza, and thai to eat while we watch some questionable cinematic masterpieces.”

“Hear, hear,” Shiro deadpanned, but they shared a laugh as she slipped back onto the couch next to him. He hit play on the movie and handed Pidge her Chinese entrée before grabbing a slice of pizza himself, with a wink. He leaned back, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing another soft kiss to her temple, before focusing his attention forward.

And if they were mostly full when their thai actually arrived, it didn’t faze them too much. Whatever they didn’t eat would serve them both as lunch and possibly dinner tomorrow.

“Love you,” Pidge murmured warmly into her pad thai, curled up against her boyfriend’s side as the credits rolled and he moved to start the next movie.

“Love you, too,” Shiro responded affectionately around the slice of pizza dangling from his mouth, one arm around her shoulders and the other fiddling with the remote.

[tsnficmasterpost-blog]

POST-DEPOSITION

no wealth and no ruin by antistar_e: In which Mark Zuckerberg gets a job, learns important life lessons, makes friends, finds the love of his life, and dies. Not necessarily in that order. ★★★★★

how one thing leads to another, a story of coincidence by antistar_e: At 42, Eduardo Saverin has three things to his name: a plane ticket, one half of a formerly conjugal bank account, and a list.

place that don’t know my name by antistar_e: Looking up at the mess of stars above New (New New New) Singapore, he stops being Eduardo Saverin, absentee CFO of Facebook, and starts being Eduardo Saverin, time traveling companion to a mad man in a blue box who keeps on calling him Frank.

place between here and the destination by antistar_e: You know what's cooler than one million dollars? Eduardo Saverin, time traveler.

selective hearing by antistar_e: Marilyn's right, of course. The dilution wasn't the first time Mark plotted against Eduardo.

a seahorse gilt in gold by antistar_e: The first reported fatal case is in May, and within two months, Eduardo learns how to shoot people in the face. | remix of ‘the time is come when the day is done.’ ★★★

the time is come when the day is done by moogle62: Mark is in California. Eduardo is in Florida. There's a whole country full of zombies between them, but Mark's not going to let a little thing like the potential to be eaten stop him from getting somewhere Eduardo wants him to be. ★★★

what not to do when your boss is dating the guy he had erased from his memory by moogle62: In which Mark has a new mystery significant other, or so Dustin claims, and there is not enough alcohol in the world to make Chris's life any less stupid.

didn’t want to be your ghost by anonymous: Mark has an one-night stand with somebody and calls out the wrong name: Eduardo's. The person sells the story to the media, and things get kind of crazy. ★★★★★

never marry for money (you can borrow it cheaper) by hapakitsune: Mark and Eduardo get drunkenly married. Chaos ensues. ★★★

our endless numbered days by hapakitsune: You can’t change your situation. The only thing that you can change is how you choose to deal with it. Or, the one where Mark has cancer.

oriented towards the other by hapakitsune: Mark's empathy has been blocked off for years, for his own safety as well as comfort. But if he wants to win Eduardo back, he's going to have to embrace his ability and re-learn how to live with other people. ★★★

just the memory of your face by hapakitsune: Mark wakes up in bed with a husband he doesn't remember and a life he can't imagine having.

these things get louder by fledmusic: Mark finds out that everybody, including his mom, thought he and Eduardo were dating at Harvard. ★★★

almost, finally, finally by fledmusic: The first year of Mark and Eduardo's long-distance romance, featuring PDAs in formal wear, revelations about cookies, drama over Facebook info updates, and realizations that absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder quite so much as it makes the heart grow frustrated. ★★★★★

do you like me, yes/no? by ifeelbetter: Mark doesn't react well when he finds out the whole staff have been nursing a crush on Eduardo.

(act) as if the world is watching by grim_lupine: A lot of things are different from when they did this last. ★★★

in the details by grim_lupine: Where Mark learns the details.

the water under the golden gate by roaroftheninth: Eduardo’s father dies. Twelve days later, Eduardo jumps from the Golden Gate bridge. Neither of these things are the beginning or the end of this story.

cryptography for beginners by thedeadparrot: A few years after the depositions, Mark sends Eduardo an e-mail. Now Eduardo just needs to figure out what it says. ★★★★★

technical debt by thedeadparrot: Mark is trying, and he thinks Eduardo is trying, but their resentments go so deep it feels like their friendship can't go anywhere at all, like there's this huge architectural flaw in their code that they're trying to hack around when they should be trying to go back and rethink everything, like they need to tear it all down so that they can rebuild it all from scratch.

been at this far too long by beyond_belief: In which Eduardo learns how to argue with Mark, and Mark learns to be somewhat less of a jerk.

curious incident of eduardo in the night-time by jibrailis: Eduardo drunkenly tries to break into Mark's house to get back something of his. Mark isn't about to let a challenge go. ★★★

throw your back into it by jibrailis: Sex is not the enemy. Except when it is. The one where Mark is a slut, Eduardo has performance anxiety, and there are cross-country booty calls. ★★

strength in numbers by maxette: "Mark, you couldn't make a cat happy—you couldn't keep a plant alive, never mind make me—give me anything I—" Eduardo says and walks out. Mark takes that as a challenge.

learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss by forsanethaec: Mark receives intelligence that Eduardo hasn't left Palo Alto yet after the depositions and goes to his hotel to see what he can see.

unblock this misery by forsanethaec: One angry email from Singapore to Palo Alto snowballs into something that Eduardo had almost learned to stop hoping for.

trivial pursuits by fairy_tale_echo: But the top two players are always the same: E.S. and M.Z. None of the other players ever rank anywhere near them, it’s always just the two of them: Eduardo in first place and Mark just a few hundred points behind. No matter how long he plays or how well he does, every god-damn day he comes in second to Eduardo. ★★

draw me a map by fairy-tale-echo: The thousands of miles, both literal and figurative, Mark and Eduardo travel and the countless postcards and letters they write over five years as they grow up and towards each other. How do you get yourself back to a place you haven't been yet?

no big deal by fairy_tale_echo: The one where denial ain't just a river in Egypt. ★★

pieces from my heart by indecentexposed: Mark gets drunk, watches the video of the depositions, and comes to some startling realizations.

all that is left is all that i hide by therealw: Mark hires a prostitute that looks remarkably like Eduardo. The paparazzi spot them out somewhere. ★★★

the farther i fall i’m beside you by therealw: Wherein Mark, for the first time ever, actually listens to what a lawyer has to say. "You know what we're here for?" Marylin continues before he can interrupt, "I mean, what this really feels like?"

with a golden ring of wisdom in my cave by therealw: Wherein there's much discussion of a ring and Dustin makes LotR jokes. Set five years after the settlement. "On the last day of the depositions, Eduardo had thrown the small, worn-looking velvet box at her." | sequel to 'me who makes the monsters.' ★★★

always golden rocks to throw by therealw: Eduardo's plan was pretty much foolproof. He would attend the ceremony, politely converse with the guest sitting on his right during the first half of dinner and the one on his left during the second, just like his mother taught him, then have a glass of champagne and, as soon as Chris and Sean had finished their first dance as a married couple, get the hell out of there. | sequel to 'me who makes the monsters.'

old roads i go down by yellowteddysuit: Where Mark gets amnesia, and all he knows is that he's lost the last 'however many' years, and he's scared; he's got Eduardo's number in his phone, so of course he calls him. Eduardo, who's still angry, tells him what he's missing from those years.

tires sing to the asphalt by addandsubtract: In which Mark and Eduardo take a road trip across the us, and have a lot of issues. They seriously have a lot of issues. ★★★

how to make a second chance by blackeyedgirl: Mark goes to sleep in Palo Alto in 2007, and wakes up in Harvard in 2004. Meanwhile, Eduardo is in Palo Alto dealing with a Mark who seems to have forgotten more than just today's shareholder meeting. Both of them are wondering how many words it would take to change what happened next.

bugfixes in the redesign by blackeyedgirl: "Were you always this evil or is it a new development?" Mark tries to use his powers for good (or at least for Eduardo's benefit). Eduardo notices him trying.

delays in communicating by blackeyedgirl: Eduardo and Mark are both great at communicating. Just, lately, not with each other. They start sending messages without ever getting around to talking. Chris and Dustin watch and wait.

forgiving what we cannot forget by blackeyedgirl: Because there's nothing like an open wound, Eduardo sends for the deposition statements. He doesn't recognize the people in these pages.

share function by blackeyedgirl: Eduardo knows better now than to sign things without having them checked out by his lawyers first. So apparently what he needs are better lawyers. ★★

teeth in the grass by ninhursag: The one where Eduardo thinks they are in a tragedy with subtitles and pouring rain and his life is so hard, while Mark thinks they are in a romantic comedy and it is awesome. They meet in the middle. ★★★

on the path unwinding by thisissirius: In which Eduardo turns into a cute zoo animal, and Mark comes to a realization that he needs a human Eduardo around to deal with.

write it on the skyline by thisissirius: Chris bullies Mark away from the computer, fights him with words and angry gestures, tells him to get the fuck away from this stuff, I mean it like it’s detrimental to Mark’s health to be trying to find his best friend.

sky that’s always blue by abriata: Or, the one where Eduardo can control the weather, and Mark has to do something about it before Sean gets struck by lightning. ★★★

you only live twice (unless you're facebook. then you live forever) by lawofgravity: After he signs the nondisclosure agreement, Eduardo Saverin disappears off the face of the earth. Because he joins the CIA. He embraces the life of Super Secret Agent Man Eduardo Saverin. That is, until Facebook is threatened by terrorist plots and only Eduardo can save the day.

you came along and you cut me loose by pendules: Five happy endings Mark and Eduardo never had (and one they did).