#accidentally posted this instead of adding it to the queue oops

[jesus-holding-your-fave]

Today, Jesus is holding:

Martin Kratt from Wild Kratts

[judging-will-wood-confessions]

Dreamt I got hit by a car (miraculously unscathed for getting dragged along a few feet) and it was Will Wood driving it. He asked if I was ok and when I said yeah he drove off.

[displacedarchon]

I'm a bit rambly and salty today and need to get this off my chest, so there's no obligation to read this post and such. Unless you're morbidly curious, I'm not yer mom, I won't stop you. :B But there was this question of the day on twitter recently that asked something like.... "What made you finally take the plunge and stick with 14?" But worded in like a... super positive, happy way. And it's a good question! And people had all these fun stories about trying to just appease a friend and then OOPS accidentally fully committed 10/10. But it got me thinking about my tumultuous relationship with 14, and I didn't want to bring the vibe down on twitter (that's a dangerous place to spill your guts half the time anyways) so. Yeehaw. To not get too spiraly, I'd been a FF fan in general for quite some time, but due to repeated trauma associated with it, by the first time 14 rolled in, I already had one foot out the door with engaging in FF stuff. I ended up not being able to run the game anyways, so that was that. But the time of ARR rolled out, I was 100% not in the mood for anything FF related. I'd either sold/donated/boxed up all of my FF merch and had no interest. (I tried to free trial it anyways, secretly, but it just didn't click.) When Stormblood was announced, I'd gotten a crumb of excitement because Red Mage was being put in the game. I fucking love Red Mage. So I went... "WELL. Maybe this time, cause fuck yeah Red Mage!?"

I was surrounded by 14 players, friends at the time (who had all been insisting I play 14), at a gaming store/hangout. Immediately, I was mocked and chewed out for liking Red Mage. They thought I was stupid for taking interest in the game now, because of the addition of that class, and that Red Mage was one of, if not THE dumbest and worst classes in the FF franchise. Like I was *mocked*. To my *FACE*. Needless to say, I didn't touch the game until 2018. Made another SE account (because the 1.0 and that ARR free trial account had both been nuked by SE when they were purging in active accounts or something?) And it was...? Sure was a thing. I wasn't thrilled about it, but I wanted people to stop pestering me to ditch other games and play 14 instead. I can't remember if SHB was out yet or not, not that that mattered, but I toddled around with the MSQ, until I hit that first dungeon. This was before Duty Support, so my options were to queue up and that was it. I wasn't impressed that dungeons were forced (this was around the time I was starting to get burnt out on doing dungeons in other games). And you know what's funny? queue times were atrocious, cause I was DPS. Did my friends, who gave me shit for not playing jump at the chance to party with me? No. Instead I got a mocking lecture for... "Well that's what you get for picking DPS." And they proceeded to twist my arm into rolling a healer or a take. And after awhile it became increasingly obvious they wanted me to roll healer because they wanted to turn me into their pocket healer. FUCK. THAT. So I gave up. (And subsequently either forgot the log in info for that account, or SE nuked it as well? I have no idea. I just remember it being 2018 because the game I have currently... has... the appearance data saved?? I don't understand it.) Fast forward to the end of 2021, and trauma and burnout have weakened me enough apparently to give it another go and people not shutting up about EW made me curious just enough. Made a new account (because I can't log into the one from 2018???), slowly slogged through it... and the only reason I was able to get past that original hump, was because of Duty Support being added in 6.1. Didn't need to sit in a queue, didn't have to listen to friends shit on me for being DPS. In fact, my friends didn't give two shits I was playing again and repeatedly forgot that I was. And then I hit another wall; Queue up for Good King Moogle Mog and not only was the wait, once again, atrocious, every time it'd pop most of the rest of the party would go "Oh HELL NO." Leave, and I'd be back in the queue. I tried to get help, I was met with "You're lying, 14 players don't do stuff like that." So, I stopped playing again for a bit. Eventually logged back in, saw where I was stuck, and suddenly one of my friends was now SUPER EXCITED I was playing, and not only did she blast me through King Moogle Mog and a bunch of MSQ after that, flew me to all the ARR aetherytes. Wanting to see more of Thancred, Y'shtola and Minfilia is what kept me going forward, and then when Aymeric showed up I was sold completely. Having the game put me in Novice Network helped with the loneliness a bit. But like. MAN. End of 2022 was when I finally resigned to "YEAH lol I guess I'm a regular player now." Though less so currently, since my processor is an Intel i5 and the minimum requirement is an i7, so I can't log in without COOKING my pc. Whomp whomp. --- Tumblr has word capped me or something hang on.

[browneyesandhair]

Hey! It's ya girl! April Edition

I got no chill and a large obsession with a lot of things. So this year, I'm tracking it! Okay, so this year, is the year of recs! (you may have seen some of my posts, but I also have an extensive queue, so maybe not (check out the #recs on my page)). Running a little behind (it's already June, oops!)

Anyways, I've created a collection for this year overall and then also for each month! Let's check out April's stats -

Works read (&finished): 112

Fandoms (top 8):

1 - Bridgerton: 33

2 - Harry Potter: 28

3 - The Vampire Diaries: 16

4 - Young Justice: 15

5 - Les Miserables: 13

6 - Criminal Minds: 2

7 - Percy Jackson and the Olympians: 1

8- Merlin: 1

The rest didn't make the first drop down section of AO3, so oh well! Let's check in on relationships (top 8):

1 - Polin: 33

2 - Klaroline: 16

3 - Spitfire: 14

4- Enjolras/Eponine: 13

5 - Harmony: 9

6 - Hinny: 5

7 - Roy Harper/Jade Nguyen: 4

8 - Dick Grayson/Zatanna Zatara: 2

Quite a few recs that were reread/added to the list this month:

Harry Potter:

The Changeling by Annerb

Summary:

Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

Sequels also read: pick it up, pick it all up and start again, we can still be, who we said we were, and in my head we do everything right

Six Pomegranate Seeds by Seselt

Summary:

At the end, something happened. Hermione clutches at one fraying thread, uncertain whether she is Arachne or Persephone. What she does know is that she will keep fighting to protect her friends even if she must walk a dark path.

Sequels also read: Bouquet of Asphodels

Forever Means Forever by cocoartist

Summary:

If she ever saw Unspeakable Number 37 again she would kill him with her bare hands: Hermione's research into the Veil has an unexpected side-effect. COMPLETE.

Les Mis:

It Is Not a Word Spoken by CrazyAce_n_PokerFace

Summary:

*…I don't understand. You can't possibly be suggesting you were seriously trying to sext me.* She stares at his words and exhales slowly before typing, *And if I was…?* É/E Modern AU. The long-awaited sexting fic. Very NSFW. Dedicated to the wonderful samthenardier as a birthday gift. Title taken from the lovely poem "It Is Not a Word" by Sara Teasdale.

Merlin:

Radioman by Footloose

Summary:

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can't keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn't good enough, either. Except he is.

Atla:

Returned for a Better Try (to Make a Better Time) by atypicalhypocrite

Summary:

The Fire Lord’s blast is sharp and thorough. Still on his knees before his father, a thirteen year old dies instantly. Another Zuko, once teacher to the avatar and a Fire Lord himself, jolts into being in his place, and deals with the consequences. Timeline preservation nothing, he’s going to be a better Fire Lord this time, and start sooner.

Star Trek:

Ten Degrees Below Zero by kianspo

Summary:

After a serious incident aboard a starship, Commander Spock is demoted and transferred to a remote base where he must now serve with other "undesirables." He adjusts to his new rank and duties, and, while the future does look bleak, he is not ready to give up on himself or Starfleet yet. There is work to be done and hope to be found, especially as he begins to get to know his new colleagues, particularly one intriguing engineering officer James Kirk...

The Vampire Diaries:

At Horizon's Edge by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

The Umbrella Academy:

broken still you breathe (breathe, breathe, just breathe) by Eternal_Peace_is_Overrated

Summary:

“He’s not coming,” Luther says impatiently. “Let's just get this over with.” “Who’s not coming?” The voice sounds behind them suddenly, and all of them startle and whip around in synchronization. “Klaus,” Luther hears himself say distantly. “You’re…here.” Four tilts his head, bringing his hand to his lips and inhaling deeply around the cigarette dangling between his fingers. When he exhales, the smoke curls around his head like a halo before drifting into the air. “Yeah, well, I would’ve gotten here sooner,” Four says around the cigarette. “But I just really didn’t want to.” *** Number Four shows up to the funeral three hours late with an iced latte in one hand and a cigarette dangling from the other. Or; Klaus fled the Academy the day they turned eighteen. He never looked back. Ten years later, their father dies. Number Four returns. And none of them quite know what to do with this new version of their black sheep brother. AKA: Klaus single-handedly stops the apocalypse. It really wasn't that hard, so if everyone could stop looking at him like that, that would be great, thanks.

Bridgerton:

Plenty Far To Fall by useyourtelescope

Summary:

When financial troubles mean third-son Colin Bridgerton must cease his yearly travels and find employment instead, he has difficulty finding something suitable. Until he learns of a unique position being offered by the notorious gossip columnist Lady Whistledown.

Alright, that's all folks (mostly), for fun, here are the top 8 additional tags from the stories that I read in April:

AU - Modern Setting: 24

AU: 16

Smut: 14

Fluff: 10

Friends to Lovers: 10

AU - Canon Divergence: 9

Angst: 8

Explicit Sexual Content: 7

And, that's all folks (for real this time)!

[magici-if]

Can i have either 'Y' or 'O' ?

so I only did Y cuz this post got realllllllly long

Y = Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

from THIS prompt list

Martin:

Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o?

Just...noise. Their partner chewing loudly/ with their mouth open, talking way too loudly, and picking their nose. Also, their partner queue jumping.

Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?

He snores really loudly and he gets up a lot of times during the night: first he might wanna get a midnight snack, then drink some water, then go to the toilet, then go open the window 'cause it's hot, and the list goes on. Yes, all that in one night.

Those endearing moments where you catch your partner sleeping and they just look so cute? Yeah, never happening with Martin, he's either up or snoring. He also sometimes uses words the wrong way 'cause English isn't his first language.

Demetra:

Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o?

Just, anything that makes her feel like her presence is unappreciated. Cancelling on her the last minute when she had a whole date planned.

When she's talking about something important and her partner keeps interrupting her and not letting her speak.Her partner starting an argument in public or while they're in front of people they know.

Her s/o being on their phone when they're alone with each other. Also her partner leaving her messages on read without even reacting with a heart. (poor dem)

Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?

She texts like she talks: let's say she needs to say a lot via text, instead of writing one big paragraph, she'll end up sending 10 different text bubbles.

Dem 🫶

"okay" "so like" "the craziest thing just happened" "anyways i'll tell you when you get home" "cus I dont wna annoy you w too many messages"

Narrator: watch her send a myriad of messages

Dem 🫶

"are you not gna ask what it is?" ":(" "i miss you"

And then when her s/o asks her what it was, what will happen is:

Exhibit A:

"Oh I have no idea, I don't remember. Must have been something dumb."

Exhibit B:

"Oh no nevermind it was really dumb." / She grins, "I lied, just wanted to get your attention"

Exhibit C:

"Oh yeah! Let me tell you." and it's something really dumb.

Evander:

Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o?

His partner's glasses falling off their nose and them pushing them up by the middle like an anime character. His partner taking his food from his plate without asking. Seeing someone's snus on their gums while they are speaking.

Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?

They're lazy, and it's more of a lifestyle than a habit. He also makes a lot of useless group chats for everything, him and his friends are going to the cinema next Friday?

" '🔥��🎥 CINEMA NIGHT GANG 🔥🔥💯💯' was created by 'california's biggest babe (evander) ❤︎'. "

(he's never been in california)

At this point they'll do it on purpose to annoy people. Evander and MC going on a date?

"You've been added to '😈🤓 DATE NIGHT BABES🍆💞' "

"You've been added to 'oops I did it again ⚽️↗↘💥🥅 I scored a cutie.'"

Harley:

Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o?

Harley loves to just sit and talk with people, especially her lover. So her pet peeve would be when she wants to talk but it becomes a monologue 'cause her partner just stares at her and answers with monosyllables.

When Harley and her partner have planned to do an activity, and her partner keeps saying they're about to go get dressed so they can go, but it's been 3 hours and they still haven't done that.

Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?

She's an early bird. Say her s/o accidentally wakes up at 7:00 am, they'll find that Harley has already left, made coffee, left a a cute note saying

"brb!!! wanted to go on a run! I love you!!"

and bought groceries. They'll fall back asleep and wake up an hour later and Harley would have come home, wrote a song about how cute her partner is when they sleep, and bought them a bouquet with their favourite flowers.

Basically lazy mornings together are non existent with her and she'll prolly accidentally wake her partner up like 3 times in a morning.

Echo:

Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o?

When her s/o folds a page on a book instead of using a bookmark, or when they doodle on her textbook with a pen when she'd planned on selling it afterwards.

Also the phrases "Are you angry?" and "Why are you so quiet?" when she's just existing.

Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?

Echo will stay up the whole night playing a video game, watching a series or reading a book, their partner will go to sleep and wake up to find her in the same position. There comes the question: has she slept at all?

The answer is no.

She'll even try really really hard to convince her s/o to stay up with her so they can be together.

Echo will also literally terrorise her partner, she loves sneaking up on people and she's such a try-hard about it. She won't just sneak up on people, no; she'll even use her abyss powers to teleport behind her s/o and scare them.

Dominic:

Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o?

Bad hygiene, especially bad breath/ yellow teeth. Bad communication, like his s/o giving him the cold shoulder after they had a disagreement.

Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?

He's a workaholic, if he can work on a book he's writing, research a specific type of affinity, or read a book about magic theory, he will. This man doesn't know how to relax, his partner will have to force him to sit down and chill together.

He is also probably addicted to playing chess on his phone, if he isn't working or spending time with his partner, he's on the chess.com app. Specifically, the 3 minute long matches, which he'll lose anyways 'cause he forgets he only has 3 minutes and he'll spend an eternity before making any move.

All this 'cause he watched one (!) episode of The Queen's Gambit (didn't have the time to watch the rest, he says).

[kittyowner]

Fixed queue because it accidentally posted everything I added instead of letting it trickle. Oops! Sorry about that.

[flyingcookierambles]

oops i accidentally added a bunch of aoe/ane posts to this blogs queue instead of my main oops gotta fix that and re-add them to my main queue

[mrsaturneveryday]

Oops, I goofed

I was updating the queue and accidentally added about ten photos immediately instead, I’m so sorry if that messed up anyone notifications or anything!!

(in related news, if anyone knows a chrome extension or some bot or something to do queue up posts for me that would be greatly appreciated. thank you for your support, ilu all)

[somethingtodowithfruit]

Oops def accidentally just posted instead of adding to my queue haha. Oops. Enjoy anyways

Shiptember 2021 for Danny Phantom! Trying some new coloring techniques ♡

[oliverwvvd]

something brewing: part i

The moral of this story is that I need to not do the stupid thing and accidentally press save draft instead of queue, since this was supposed to be posted at least a week ago. Oops. Anyway, this is part I of the previously discussed barista au, because I toyed with the idea for a while and it stuck around. Yes, I recognise the title is a horrible pun, but I couldn’t resist. I hope that everyone who liked the idea of this isn’t disappointed.

Premise: Oliver is a sports science student who has to maintain his grades in order to retain his scholarship and has a good chance of playing football professionally. Despite that, he’s serious about wanting to do well. His flatmates spend more time drunk than they do sober, so he’s given up trying to work at home and finds a little coffee shop to study in. What he doesn’t expect is to develop a painful, near-instantaneous, utterly inconvenient crush on one of the baristas.

i: marcus.

It was just past 5pm, and Marcus was comfortably settled into work for the evening. There was a lazy hum of guitar as his background noise of preference, the coffee shop wasn’t too crowded and that gave him time to open his textbook underneath the counter in between making drinks while Susan handled the customers and sorted out any food orders. The page was marked with the casual ease of someone who was used to reading in what spare moments he had, and ain’t that the truth? Honestly, he had trouble absorbing it all at once, so taking information in bit by bit while he did other tasks always worked far better for him, letting him actually retain it instead of forgetting it immediately after reading.

While he turned the pages, humming softly under his breath, dark hair clustered at his temples in slight, tousled waves made worse by the steam from the coffee machine. The scent of freshly ground coffee filled his nose, underscored by the lesser hints of different types of tea, and you’d think he’d be sick of it by now, but the fact was he found it comforting. It smoothed out all the rough edges of his day and helped him to concentrate.

Leaning across, Susan stuck a receipt in front of him. “Large latte with an extra shot for the tall drink of water down at the end there.” There was a mischievous note to her voice that he’d heard before, usually when a customer was particularly easy on the eyes, and he shot her a look back as he got down to making the drink, a grudging half-smile playing about his lips. She mouthed, “Eleven out of ten,” at him, her petite frame safely hiding her behind the coffee machine, and he lifted an eyebrow, because only once in a blue moon did Susan make that sort of assessment. Working in a coffee shop this close to the university, they both got to see a lot of different people walk in and out when they were on shift. One thing he had learned, however, was that he and his fellow barista had different ideas of what was visually appealing. Maybe it’s because she’s an art student, they find the weirdest things interesting. In Susan’s case, that often extended to people, too.

The latte was done in a matter of moments, his hands moving in a familiar rhythm that was as old as time itself to him now. Flicking a quick glance to the receipt to get the name, he walked down to the end and asked, “Large latte with an extra shot for Oliver?” before sliding the drink across the counter, a slight curve of his mouth because customer service meant you were supposed to smile and be courteous. Since he’d never really mastered smiling on command because other people thought he should, this was the nearest thing that he could manage.

When he glanced up to identify the customer, though, he didn’t expect to find someone looking directly back at him, and he certainly didn’t expect to recognise the face, even dimly. Oh. It took effort not to do a double-take, because he knew he’d seen this one around somewhere and couldn’t quite place where. But everything else apart, Susan had, for once, been exactly right. High cheekbones, gloriously messy brown hair, and as he took the drink, a warm, seemingly shy smile that didn’t match with the slight cheekiness of the friendly wink he paired with it. “Thanks,” he said, and as he walked away, Marcus got a wonderfully prolonged look at exactly how long his legs were. It took actual concentration not to let his eyes wander further. Not at work. He ignored Susan, who was trying not to laugh and failing, and instead opened his textbook again.

“Well. If he meets even your impossibly high standards…” Thankfully, her voice is naturally low-pitched anyway and the boy, Oliver, had long since vacated the immediate area for a table over in the far corner, or he might actually have stepped on her foot to silence her.

“Don’t start, Susan,” Marcus warned, attention momentarily drawn from the pages in front of him, a loose scattering of diagrams and pencils notations visible. “I’ve got to get this stuff into my head before the next class if it kills me. I don’t need distractions.”

He felt rather than saw her pout. “Well, if you don’t feel like being distracted, mind if I do? Honestly, he’d make a wonderful model, I might see if I can convince him to sit for me.”

With an impatient gesture that said be my guest quite clearly, Marcus went back to his book while Susan wandered out onto the main floor of the coffee shop. Ostensibly, she’d gone to clean up, but the odds were good that she’d find an excuse to be distracted, as she put it, while she was there.

ii: oliver.

Oliver was absolutely knackered. So knackered, in fact, that the only thing stopping him from going back to his flat and murdering his flatmate in cold blood, or falling asleep in the chair he’d just sat down in was the steaming cup of coffee in his hands. When he took the first sip, his eyes actually closed for a moment because thank Christ, caffeine. On the second sip, the warmth seeped through him and took away the fact that it was freezing outside. On the third, he was recovered enough to sneak another glance up at the counter and the dark head of hair tilted downwards over what looked like a book. They’d barely exchanged words, really, but Oliver knew himself, enough to know that he definitely liked what he’d seen when the barista had handed him his coffee. Sharp jawline, faint hint of dark stubble that managed to be attractive without being scruffy, broad shoulders clad in a long-sleeved navy-blue shirt rolled back at the elbows, and that maddening hint of a smile. Another sip of the coffee, and it was enough for him to tell that it was good, definitely good enough to keep him coming back. The odds were that he was going to be spending a lot of time here, and the reason why could be summed up very succinctly. “Drunken bastards,” he muttered under his breath, opening his backpack and pulling out his notes, wincing at the state of his handwriting. Right. Best neaten these up.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Startled, Oliver looked up, not realising that his commentary had been quite so audible. However, when he realised it was the redheaded girl from behind the counter, he relaxed. “She’d wash my mouth out if she heard me,” he said, amused. “Because like every mother, she’s convinced that I’m still five and won’t believe it until I prove otherwise. That was relatively mild.”

“Aye, I figured, you being very obviously from Glasgow and all.” The impish grin that accompanied the girl’s words left him confused, until she introduced herself. “I’m Susan. Barista by whatever hours I’m designated to work, art student by trade who couldn’t help but notice you’ve been gifted with the kind of bone structure that begs to be drawn.”

The words flustered him, left him wondering how the hell to answer, so he settled on an easy smile and deflection. “Honestly, I think your counterpart might be the better candidate for that,” he said, nodding in the direction of the other barista. When he caught the playful gleam in Susan’s eyes, he kicked himself. Why do I talk? “But I’m never opposed to a new friend. I’m Oliver,” he said, offering his hand outwards. “Which you know, because I gave you my name about five minutes ago when I ordered,” he added, cringing slightly at himself. And this is why I shouldn’t try to be social when I’m tired. “Sorry, bit braindead, the coffee was necessary.”

When Susan laughed and shook his hand, he couldn’t help but be a bit relieved. Usually, he had no problem navigating new interactions, but right now he was operating on far less sleep than he actually required. When her expression took a turn for the mischievous, Oliver became sharply aware that he’d probably said something he shouldn’t have. “He’s so used to me drawing him in between taking orders at this point that he’d probably be thankful for me practicing on someone else,” she said with a theatrical sigh. “And honestly, can you blame me?”

Watching the dark-haired barista move with the kind of controlled grace that made him look almost alien when placed behind somewhere as commonplace as a coffee shop counter, Oliver couldn’t argue with her and therefore, he didn’t. Instead, he spent a few seconds mulling over the boy, wondering what his name might be and why he felt like he’d seen him before. Probably around the university or something. Fortunately, he didn’t have to answer because she switched subjects a moment later. “So what brings you to our little hole around the corner from the campus? Besides the coffee, of course. I’m guessing you weren’t cursing just now for effect.”

Oliver sighed. “I ended up with an absolute dobber for a flatmate this year. Spends more time drunk than sober, and doesn’t know when to shut it. I like a drink now and then, but not when it means I can’t get any sleep because the eejit and his mates won’t shut it at four in the morning.” He rolled his eyes, pointed at the cup. “Hence the extra shot. Eight o’clock football practice this morning, class in the afternoon and I’m done for, and still got to do some work.”

The wince of sympathy was gratifying, as were Susan’s next words. “Well, that definitely explains the swear words. Should I get our resident coffee genius to make it stronger next time?”

Oliver didn’t even pause in response. “God, yes. If he can possibly add any more caffeine without giving me the shakes or making me ill, yes.”

“He can make anything that involves coffee and tea taste palatable, it’s a gift. Do you trust me?”

“I’ve just met you.”

“I’m a barista. Trust me. Give him free rein on what he makes you next.”

Oliver was too tired to make sense of the conversation, even after the first (excellent) cup of coffee, and his notes were swimming in front of his eyes anyway. “All right. Tell him that if he can make me something that’ll keep me on my feet for the rest of the evening and tastes as good as the first one did, he’s got a guaranteed customer for life.”

iii: marcus.

Marcus was somewhat expecting the cat that’s got the cream smile on Susan’s face when she practically sashayed back behind the counter. He’d looked up only once, seen that she was talking to the attractive boy from earlier (Oliver, his brain helpfully supplied) and snorted to himself, deciding to leave her to it. If there had been a slight pang of disappointment, well, he only had himself to blame, didn’t he? And this, this was why he didn’t do distractions.

“Hey, hotshot. Pretty boy over there says he’ll drink anything you make so long as it tastes palatable and doesn’t give him the shakes. Up to the challenge?”

So much for no distractions. Of all the things he’d anticipated her saying, that hadn’t been one of them. Against his own will, Marcus found his eyes unwittingly drawn towards the boy, suddenly becoming very aware that he had dark circles beneath his eyes and actually looked outright worn out, the more so as he sifted through what looked like pages of notes spread out on the table in front of him. “Hard partier with a hangover?” he asked, rather hoping that wasn’t the case.

“Footballer with early practices, late afternoon classes and a selfish gobby prick for a housemate who thinks four in the morning is an acceptable time to be pissed as a newt,” Susan amended, only managing to further pique Marcus’ interest, while simultaneously making him wonder how exactly she managed to inveigle information out of people the way she did. “He’s had a long day. Make him something good.”

“Your wish is my command,” Marcus drawled, abandoning his textbook and turning his attention to the coffee machine. “Did you get his number already? I figured it’d take you at least ten minutes to work up to it, and that was barely five.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Susan unsuccessfully attempt to hide a smile, resolved to get her back for it later. “No, I don’t think I’m his type, though he didn’t seem to have trouble acknowledging that he finds you good-looking.”

Marcus didn’t bother restraining himself; he rolled his eyes at her quite plainly, and chose not to acknowledge the remark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise her hands in surrender. “Just passing it on, even if you don’t believe me.”

“Stop bothering me, woman, if you want me to make the damned drink,” he snapped, not meaning to sound quite as snippy as he did. Thankfully, Susan had known him long enough to know the difference between him wanting to focus and him actually being annoyed, and simply stuck her tongue out at him before heading out to the storeroom to go and obtain more takeaway cups. Left in peace, Marcus spent five minutes concocting something that would tick the boxes specified with the ingredients that he had to hand. The result ended up being a monstrous latte that only just fitted in the largest takeaway cup. It looked relatively ordinary, but he was confident that it would fit the bill. “Order for Oliver?” he called.

And if he wanted to watch the other boy walk towards him, well, he didn’t have to admit it to anyone but himself. Even if his rule was no distractions, he didn’t see any harm in appreciating the view, and there was a lot about the view to appreciate. When Marcus set the takeaway cup down in front of him, there was a shy smile playing about his mouth again and God, he wished he didn’t find it as attractive as he did. When the other went to reach into his pocket, obviously intending to extract his wallet, Marcus shook his head. “Try it first,” he said, leaning elbows against the counter and not quite able to help his curiosity. He didn’t often get to see the first reaction to a new drink, so this was a rare opportunity.

When the other boy inclined his head, raised the cup in his direction and took a long drink from it, Marcus watched his reaction move from neutral to enjoyment with a slight half-smile. He didn’t get the chance to ask the question, because Oliver (don’t pretend like you don’t know his name, Flint) had a much wider smile on his face now before he spoke. “I can taste the caramel, and…apple pie? And at least a double shot in there.” It was less of a guess when he had another long drink, and damn if that response didn’t make Marcus’ day in less than ten seconds. “God, that’s exactly what I needed, and I never would have ordered it on my own. How much do I owe you?”

Marcus shook his head again. “Nothing. You just helped test out a new special for the menu,” he said, wanting to outright grin, not quite comfortable enough to let himself do it. Finding the other attractive was one thing, but actually doing something about it was another. Probably has someone, anyhow. The fact that he was even considering the matter was more than he wanted to think about, shoved it away with a nod of his head as Susan emerged from the storeroom. “Get that down your neck, you’ll feel better,” he said, before disappearing into the storeroom himself, under the pretext of checking whether or not they’d received the new blend that was supposed to be arriving. They hadn’t, but he found a mess, like he always did. With a faintly exasperated sigh, he started to tidy up, ignoring the fact that he’d just bolted in the opposite direction to the first person he’d genuinely been attracted to in almost a year. Well, I always did have a knack for self-sabotage. Or maybe I just don’t want to waste my attention on a lost cause.

iv: oliver.

Oliver had been coming to the coffee shop for a few weeks at this point, for a multitude of reasons; the first being that waking up with a hot drink in his hand before his first tutorial or before practice was infinitely preferable to staying at his flat. The second being that his flatmate hadn’t proven to be any less of an idiot as time had progressed, and while the atmosphere between them wasn’t hostile as such, it might easily go in that direction if Oliver was around the flat more often. The final reason, and the one that he was all too aware of, was the fact that the coffee shop came with the added bonus of the dark-haired barista, whose name he’d discovered only four days prior. Susan had called back to what was presumably the storeroom while Oliver had been waiting for his usual morning order (a flat white). “Marcus, are you done in there yet?” For reasons he couldn’t understand, everything seemed to click into place at that point. The name was fitting, but that was also the point where he couldn’t entirely ignore the fact that not only had he liked what he saw when he first laid eyes on the other; he’d liked it enough for the interest to continue past the initial meeting.

So the combination of irritating flatmate, burgeoning caffeine addiction, and a need to work undisturbed also happened to coincide with the fact that he was developing a small, inconvenient crush on the barista, on Marcus. They hadn’t exchanged words much, nothing more than polite conversation really, but in that time, a comfortable routine had developed. In the mornings, Oliver had his flat white. In the afternoons and evenings, Marcus often had free rein on what to make for him, and he’d never yet gotten it wrong. With a glance, dark eyes seemed able to assess what kind of day he’d had and make the drink that fitted the bill. Susan hadn’t been wrong: the other had a gift for it.

It was late one evening when Oliver approached the counter with a textbook in hand, around 8pm, and was met with the half-smile that never quite made it to something more. It held mystery, that look, and he’d rapidly learned that he didn’t mind a little mystery. “Same again?” The question, ready when he reached the counter, made him smile ruefully. “Yeah, please. This thing’s making life difficult for me.” He raised his textbook, an analysis of sport psychology that was interesting enough, but not easy to translate to the project that his professor had given him. If he hadn’t been watching, he wouldn’t have seen the flicker of surprise, however slight, that crossed Marcus’ expression when he saw the textbook. That was nothing, however, to Oliver’s reaction when the barista responded, “Yeah, that one’s not fun. Been having a bit of a wrangle with it too.”

It took a few seconds for Oliver to click. Really? So maybe that’s where I recognised you from, even if dimly. “I didn’t realise you were in there too,” he said with a smile. “How come I’ve never seen you?”

“It’s a big lecture theatre. I sit up at the back and the lecturer’s usually turned the lights down for the projectors by the time I get there. I didn’t know you were in there either, to be fair.” That was when the usual half-smile that he’d become strangely used to widened, and oh, Oliver wasn’t prepared for that, because if the effect of the half-smile was bad, the full smile was absolutely devastating by comparison. He was sure that he was staring like a fool, and he didn’t have the will to sort it out. Pull yourself together.

“I’m aiming for physiotherapist eventually,” Marcus continued, seemingly not registering Oliver’s reaction. “But I’ve not seen you in any of my other classes, which are somewhat smaller, so I’m guessing you’re taking a slightly different direction.”

It took Oliver a few seconds to form a coherent sentence, and under other circumstances, he would have been really bloody well embarrassed about that, but Christ, he’s only human and that smile was like attacking the unarmed. “Yeah, I…I’ve been scouted for football, so most of what I’m doing is geared towards being able to coach and help other athletes if that doesn’t pan out,” he said. Though he knew that he was good at what he did, he wasn’t naturally a braggart. He felt the weight of Marcus’ scrutiny when the other looked at him more closely, and Jesus, he did the exact opposite of handling it well when the appraisal seemed to run past his face to the spread of his shoulders. Don’t blush, for the love of God.

“What position?”

The question caught Oliver off-guard, because his mind immediately went to places that it quite definitely wasn’t supposed to go while he was in public (I can think of lots of those), and the dark-haired barista (and incipient physiotherapist, apparently) could have easily chosen a better way of wording that. Was that deliberate? He couldn’t tell. Marcus’ expression was unreadable besides the smile and the tilted head. It was impossible to work out whether the other had spotted his preoccupation and decided to mess with him. If he did, game on. “Any number of positions, really, but I’m currently playing keeper,” he said, opting to accompany the words with a grin of his own, daring to put just a little flirtation behind the remark. When he heard a slight spluttering sound from further down the counter, he didn’t need to look to know that Susan had caught the gist of what he was implying, and he cringed because he’d honestly forgotten she was there at all. However, it was Marcus that sent her on the retreat with a truly impressive glare that made her disappear back into the stockroom, while Oliver wished for the ground to swallow him up as promptly as possible.

“I play striker, sometimes.” The conversation had turned back to football, and Oliver was thankful for it. Plays and strategies, he could discuss until light turned to dark, even if he was meant to be wrangling his way through the textbook still in his hands. Apparently Marcus’ attention span was much better than his, because in the time that they’d been talking, he’d still managed to make Oliver’s drink and mark the current page in his own textbook, tucked covertly beneath the counter as it generally was. To Oliver’s surprise, he smiled again, but this time there was an obvious edge of embarrassment to it. “Just realised I’m being a bit of an idiot, by the way. I’m Marcus; don’t recall ever telling you that.” When he came out from behind the counter, Oliver then got his first good look, up close, at exactly how the other dressed. A faded band t-shirt and a pair of dark, rumpled jeans that clung to all the right places. When the other offered his hand out awkwardly and Oliver closed fingers around his for the handshake, he grinned again. “Good to meet you properly. I’ll see you in our lecture, I guess. I’d better get back to work.” When he met the other’s eyes as they released grip, however, the brush of their fingers lingered and he wasn’t immune to the spark of that touch, far from it. Whoa. The other didn’t need to know that he’d already been fully aware of his name before now. “Yeah, you too. See you later.” And with that, they parted ways, Marcus back behind the counter, Oliver returning to his usual seat with coffee in one hand, textbook in the other, and quite probably a really stupid smile on his face like he’d just been hit between the eyes.

What Marcus also didn’t need to know was that his small, ridiculous crush had gone from mildly out of hand to completely insane in the span of about ten minutes, if that.

This is really not a good thing. What am I going to do about this?