#anyway. i had a great time on my date yesterday and TODAY the most gorgeous butch on bumble dm'd me back after i'd given up on them

[protectcosette]

fuck this venus retrograde is gonna make me INSUFFERABLE

[engbergeurovacay23]

On Friday morning we got up and got ourselves ready and went out into the lovely Munich weather and walked down from our hotel towards Marienplatz, which is a main, central site for tourism and shopping and just general overall busyness. I remember visiting Marienplatz in December 1998, when Alia was in Germany doing her Junior Year in Munich program and I came to visit her, as did our friend Katy, however our flights out of Detroit both got messed up by a snowstorm, so our days never overlapped!

Anyway when I last visited Marienplatz it was the middle of winter and so I don't remember it being super busy but I do remember the marionettes in the glockenspiel but that they weren't in motion. Yesterday when we visited, as soon as the kids walked into the plaza, they saw them moving! Also the old building (the "New Town Hall") in which the glockenspiel tower sits is --or looks?--incredibly old. I think it was destroyed in the war and then rebuilt. But, across the whole plaza there are just beautiful planters of bountiful, colorful flowers. It is just gorgeous. There is also a large outdoor cafe in the plaza where waitresses in dirndls were bringing all manner of food and beer. It was a very picturesque scene.

We came to the plaza because we wanted to go to the toy museum (Spielzeugmuseum). It is in a tower just on one side of the plaza. You have to pay in cash and enter the tower through a small door and then you make your way up a staircase that winds you up in a very narrow fashion several flights. In all, there are five small floors in the museum. All kinds of door dolls and toys, dating back to perhaps the 17th century, but most from the 19th century on, were shown in display cases. It wasn't interactive, in that there were no toys or dolls that the kids could touch or play with, but it gave a super interesting cultural history of toy making, evolving into mass production, and charting the evolution of these toys in line with historical developments and technological developments that made the dolls and toys what they were in their era.

It turned out that they had a very timely display of the history of Barbie in one display case. They had an incredible array of original Barbies from the '50s and '60s with all of their accessories. They had an information panel in German and English that explained Barbie's evolution and how critics have received her and have been polarized since her launch.

Anyway, before we went to the toy museum, I forgot to mention that we went into an absolutely gorgeous department store, not necessarily to shop, but because the kids needed a bathroom and department stores are always a good choice for that ;) This store, Ludwig Beck, was definitely a place I could wander around for several hours. The displays and spaciousness and merchandising were all on point. I did not buy anything, sadly, but I probably could have, given more independence and time! But the rest of my family awaited me and we needed to get on with our Munich morning meanderings.

We decided that since we only had a few hours until our 2:00 p.m. check out we would just take a a square path through the Old Town and back across the river to our hotel. This took us past many more shops and some beautiful churches and across a river that was moving very swiftly. Munich was beautiful, as I remembered, and I wish we'd had more time to visit some museums and cultural sites.

However, I've got to say, as a Jewish woman I always have a deep internal unsettled feeling when I'm in Germany, a feeling I also had in Poland and Lithuania, which was my family's ancestral home and was the site from which my relatives fled, or were extracted and killed, or were killed in the forest outside of town, or miraculously survived, as we learned one of my great grandfather's brothers did when we visited about 5 years ago. I know Germany today is a very different place -- as is the whole world--than it was in the 1930s and '40s, but just the absolute mind-bending fact of what happened during the Third Reich and in the Holocaust makes it so that one becomes a bit paranoid that if such an atrocity could happen then, like a slow moving tragedy that culminated in something absolutely and unbelievably evil, perhaps such a thing could happen again. I know people always say that no, not in this day and age, but they said that then as well.

Many German Jews were very integrated into German society and were members of their communities, even though there was more of a low(er)-grade antisemitism existing for centuries (well, there were of course spikes and subsidences), since Jews were first mentioned (in historical documents) as having been in Germany over 1700 years ago. I read an interesting article in the car yesterday (entitled "The Daily Life of the Village and Country Jews in Hessen from Hitler's Ascent to Power to November 1938") from the Shoah Resource Center about Jews in the German countryside and in small villages (in one particular town, Hessen, which is more "central Germany" than where we were) because I was trying to understand what their lives were like outside of the metropolitan areas, which Jews are often associated with. Many Jews thought the very troubling ascent of Hitler and the nationalistic zeal and increasing anti-Semitism of the economically depressed years prior to Hitler's election in 1933 were just a challenging period that they just had to weather. Jews had persistently been through trying times, over centuries, so they felt that this tide as well would turn and life would improve once again. But as we know that did not happen. Whenever I am in Germany, I can't get these thoughts out of my head. I also read a very interesting article from NPR about the stones from the destroyed main synagogue in Munich, which Hitler demanded be torn down in June 1938, being found this year when workers were excavating a river bottom for dam work.

Anyway we left Munich and what was supposed to be like a two-and-a-half-hour car ride to a village outside of Schladming, Austria, called Lehen, ended up taking us all afternoon and into the evening because there was construction that was really slowing down the highway in several spots and perhaps there was an exodus of people from the cities into the Austrian Alps for weekend fun-having. We did stop once at a Tesla supercharger just to make sure we could get that sorted out and we had a few misadventures there because the first supercharger we tried was actually not operational and we thought it was something wrong on our end. After calling Sixt and making sure, we actually just tried a different supercharger in that place and it worked perfectly! While we were waiting a little while for the charging to happen, we walked down the street in sort of an industrial/hotel area and came upon a Friday afternoon party that a business was having, featuring a big grilling set-up and lots of beer and a jumpy house. On our way back to the car, Eric asked one of the people there what the party was for; they said it was a customer- and employee-appreciation event and the company was a toilet and bathroom-outfitting manufacturer.

So, on we went, and I was starting to get hangry around 5 p.m. I wanted to have a "real meal" and not just snacks, even though I do really love snacks ;) About an hour and a half from Schladming we stopped in Siegsdorf, Germany, and did go to a grocery store because the restaurant I'd targeted didn't open until 5:30. We bought a very odd assortment of things at the grocery store, as we seem to tend to do: Milka chocolate spread (a Nutella-ish affair), cherry jam, chocolate, apples, two cans of drinks that Eric chose (one a Malibu cocktail and the other an energy drink, I think?), and some other things I am not recalling right now. So, the restaurant, Il Porcino, opened at 5:30 and we got there at about 5:45. Let me just cut to the chase: it was excellent! We sat out on a covered patio and had pizzas and pasta and bountiful salads -- and a great time. Outside they had a little pond with a bridge and the kids whiled away the time before the food came out by playing out there and seeing the turtles that lived in the pond.

Once back on the road, it wasn't long before we crossed into Austria. I mean, I am sure it's getting old, but, wow, the scenery was breathtaking. I mean, can beautiful scenery ever top other beautiful scenery? I know there are all different kinds of beauty, but just the scale of the mountains, the little villages with houses tightly squeezed together and church steeples poking up above them, and the green, cleared patches of grassy field stretching waaaaaay up high into the mountains just lends such an unbelievably postcard-ish effect to the Austrian landscape. We went further into the Alps and there was just town after town, scattered across the countryside, and all were equally adorable.

It was almost dark when we arrived to Lehen. Our Airbnb is actually pretty interesting--and, you guessed it, adorable in its setting, with a small river running behind it and flower-laden boxes adorning the railing. I asked Eric, "do you think these people shame their neighbors if they don't have flower boxes on their house?" I mean, it is absolutely ubiquitous. Like, every house. This Airbnb has a downstairs, where the owners live, and an upstairs, where our apartment is. We sort of have our own door, but inside our door downstairs is the door to their apartment. So, they could come upstairs if they wished, but, why would they. Anyway, two of the bedrooms have a glass-enclosed shower in them and a sink, and then there is a toilet room in the hallway. This Airbnb could really be used by people who didn't know each other but each booked a room. It's great for us a whole family, but it is definitely a bit odd ;) But, such a setting! Gasp! I will post some pictures, but nothing can convey how pretty these mountains are, with, literally, ski area after ski area all around, 360 degrees from where one stands seemingly at any point in time.

So, that is all --what a long post! My content about Jews in Germany took a lot of time, so thanks for reading through it, if you did. I felt the same way in Austria, thinking, these adorable towns were the sites of forced exile of and such violence against Jewish people (and, of course, others who were persecuted for their religious beliefs or politics)?? In this setting? People can be horrifically ugly even in the most "quaint" of locations. It just goes to show that people can hate other people anywhere.

On a more positive note, I will preview the fact that we had a great and fun day in Rittisberg, Austria, on Saturday! All about that in my next post!

[hey-jyll]

Checking in 08/01/2022 4:44PM

I'm currently at the laundromat right now and doing my laundry. Yes, I know I need to get a washer and dryer at my house. Lol. I will sometime this month. I finally had time to stop and just write for a bit.

I literally just was looking at the date and realized that it's still the first and I was talking to Annabelle and Michael on the phone today. I thought I talked to them yesterday on the phone. I guess I'm living in tomorrow already. Haha.

I wanted to recap the weekend. I had a really great time seeing my friends this weekend I got to hang out in Newport Beach with Prithvi, donated my hair, went to a farewell party for Annabelle, went to the bonfire for a bit (This was okayish maybe. Still had a good time but I was crying in the end), and a date with myself and a book.

Prithvi and I ended up buying used books and we seem quite happy with the purchases. He found an old edition of The Hobbit and I got a few books. I gave him a small tour of one of my favorite libraries so it was cool.

Annabelle's farewell was really good actually. I made pasta, red sauce with ground beef, white sauce with shrimp, and cookie shots with whipped chocolate ganache for dessert. I didn't know how it was going to be because I didn't really know who was going. Anyways, I made the dough for the pasta on my own time, and then we ended up using the crank to make the pasta at the party. It felt nice sharing it with my friends, and it also felt really nice to be more vulnerable with people who made me feel safe and I'm definitely lucky to have them as my friends currently. I drank so much that I ended up not driving home so I ended up going to the bonfire. The bonfire was nice. I got to meet some new people, threw a frisbee around, even learned to properly throw it (lol), played volleyball, got to drink some more, hung out with people that weren't at the farewell, and just shoot the shit for the most part.

Ok, the part where I cried. Hahaha. Before I start this story, I was just sitting, joking around, drinking, and shooting the shit with friends the night before and it hit me that I really missed him. I thought it was ironic that I saw him the next day after feeling that. I laugh at it now but there were many feelings that I felt that night. So I saw Jake I guess. I was hoping not to run into him but I wanted to see Petey and catch up since we haven't seen each other in a while. I took a gamble in a sense but it was just rough in the moment due to alcohol and feelings. Anyways, I basically ran away when I saw him for the most part. I felt like I was in high school again when this happened to me so it was such a deja vu moment. I'm literally rolling my eyes at this fucking moment. Anyhow, I did my best to stay away. I don't hate Jake. If anything, I may still love him but I stand by my decision because I know I'm worthy of something more. I was crying on that drive home because I know that I am making the right decisions even if it hurts.

When I got home, I decided to take myself on a date because I need to give myself that love. I went to this restaurant called The Derby in Arcadia. It was honestly the best date ever. I wore my favorite clothes - the pearl top with the pink tulle skirt and floral heels. I felt so beautiful, independent, and just gorgeous or shall I say "perfection." I just read a book, left my phone in my purse so no one can distract me, and enjoyed my own company while enjoying a lovely meal. However, I'm still trying to finish this book called 12 Rules for Life by Jordan Peterson and I'm finally at the 12th Rule chapter. Anyways, I got a 3-course meal so I had clam chowder for the appetizer, surf and turf for the entree, and bread pudding for dessert. I also drank a flight of whiskey and they were pretty strong so I was a little buzzed driving out of that restaurant. Overall, I was also very happy and proud of myself for giving that love that I needed at that moment. I know my worth and I'm definitely worthy of having a partner that will love me the way I love myself.

[cdelphiki]

Kid Jason and Bruce bonding over cars, 5k words of fluff, no archive warnings apply.

“Good morning, lad,” Alfred said, one Saturday morning just as Jason stepped into the kitchen, “What would you like for breakfast?”

He’d skipped ‘family’ breakfast in favor of sleeping in, which Alfred had said multiple times was perfectly acceptable. He was 12, after all, and needed his sleep. 

With a smile, Jason started crossing the kitchen, over to the pantry, as he said, “Hi, Alfred. I was just gonna get some cereal.”

“Then help yourself, lad.”

Despite saying ‘help yourself,’ Alfred both got him a bowl and the milk out, but otherwise let Jason pour himself the cereal. He then traded Jason the milk for a spoon before going back to whatever he was preparing before. Kinda looked like bread. He was kneading dough, whatever it was.

“What’s Bruce doing in the garage?” Jason asked, after he’d watched Alfred for a few minutes and got through half his bowl of cereal.

Alfred rolled the dough up into a loaf shape and dropped it down into a glass pan as he said, “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

He didn’t even look over, but Alfred must have heard Jason frown, or something, because he then asked, “You like cars, don’t you?”

“Well yeah,” Jason stammered. He did like cars, but why did that mean he had to go ask Bruce what he was doing? “I just don’t want to bother him.”

Bruce was obviously doing work or something. He had spent almost the whole week working, and then had to take Jason out yesterday, so he probably had stuff he had to get done around the house, right? With… the tools.

“You won’t be bothering him,” Alfred said, like he thought it was impossible for Jason to bother Bruce, “I’m sure he will be more than happy to tell you about the work he’s doing on his cars.”

So he was doing work then.

Just… on his cars…

Jason looked down into his bowl and scooped out his last bite of cereal, contemplating whether he would go bother Bruce.

On the one hand, Bruce had said he would show Jason his cars if he just asked.

But on the other… he didn’t know. Things were good with Bruce so far, he was kind of scared if he bothered Bruce too much, he’d ruin it.

But as soon as Jason set his bowl back down, after finishing off the milk, Alfred walked over and took it, saying, “Go on, lad.”

And, well. Jason was supposed to listen to Alfred, right?

Back at the door to the garage, though, Jason hesitated. Bruce was back rummaging through the toolbox, but his Volkswagen was moved out to the middle of the floor, out of its normal parking spot in the line of cars away from the doors.

He didn’t turn around, though, when Jason hesitatingly pulled the door open and stepped down onto the the little set of three stairs that led to the garage floor. It wasn’t until he found whatever it was, it looked like a funnel from where Jason was standing, did he turn around and notice Jason.

“Hey, bud,” he said, as he pulled a little earbud out of his ear, “what’s up?”

“Alfred said I should come see what you were doing.”

Bruce nodded and put his little earbud in a case on the work bench as he said, “Oh, well I’m changing the oil on the cars today.”

“All of them?” Jason surveyed the garage and couldn’t help but think doing something like that would take ages.

“Most of them,” Bruce nearly hummed, as he opened the driver’s door to the Volkswagen and leaned inside. A second later, the hood popped.

Jason hopped down the last two steps and walked over toward one of the lines of cars, the one with the red lambo he’d been drooling over every time he was in the garage. He hadn’t had a chance to actually look at it, though. Because every time he was in the garage, Bruce was ushering him someplace or another.

Bruce peeked over at him, but didn’t say anything when Jason put his hand down on the hood of the car. It was gorgeous. Shiny and flawless. Not a single scratch on it anywhere Jason could see.

It was obvious it was taken care of, but Jason would have never thought Bruce did the work.

“Don’t you have people for that?” Jason asked, as Bruce opened the hood on the Volkswagen and propped it open like he’d done it a million times.

With seventy-four cars, he probably had done it a million times.

“Have you seen people around here I’m not aware of?” Bruce asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he checked the car’s oil, using the little stick thing. Jason had never actually seen someone do that before. Mostly because his parents hadn’t owned a car. He’d seen people do that on TV and stuff, though.

“No one’s mechanic lives with them,” Jason scoffed, turning fully from the Lamborghini to watch Bruce. Although Jason wouldn’t put it past a rich weirdo with a million cars to have a live-in mechanic.

Bruce huffed, what Jason assumed was a laugh, but he said, “I’m my own mechanic,” as he started messing with something in the car. Jason was kinda curious what.

“Why?”

“Is it so wrong I have a hobby?” Bruce asked, looking up at Jason finally.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Jason answered with a shrug, “You’re rich.” Rich people had hobbies there were like, horses. Horses and… well. Jason didn’t actually know, outside of illegal stuff, obviously.

“I like working on my own cars,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his tool box and slipped on some gloves, “At least, on the cars I can work on. Some of these are just easier to bring to the dealership.”

“Really? Why?” Jason asked, looking back around at all the cars. Bruce actually had about ten cars, mostly sport cars, “Which ones?”

“It’s all the computer systems in the newer cars, I don’t feel like owning the equipment for every single car, especially if I don’t drive that car much, anyway. And cars like the Tesla you have to get parts for on the blackmarket, and it’s far more trouble than it’s worth.”

With a slight grin, Jason asked, “So you’re saying you don’t buy stuff from the black market,” as he pointed to himself when Bruce looked over. Regardless of his intentions, Bruce had exchanged money for him. Which was technically buying a child on the blackmarket.

Bruce just rolled his eyes, though, and said, “I try not to.”

“Why do you own like ten cars?” Jason asked, as he started inspecting the other cars in the line he was at. Next to the Lamborghini was a sleek black sports car and Jason was pretty sure was a corvette. He really needed to study the symbols on cars more. It was a little ‘V’ on the hood, so he was like, 98% sure.

“There’s only nine here and one is Alfred’s,” Bruce said, like that made a difference, “and I like cars. They’re fun to collect.”

“Do you actually drive them all? You always pick the Tesla when we go anywhere.” Or that one time the Volkswagen.

Although maybe Bruce brought the sports cars out on his dates or whatever he did at night. Jason had never watched him leave or anything.

Bruce leaned back over the Volkswagen’s engine compartment as he said, “I try to drive each one at least once a month, even if it’s just around the block.”

“Oh,” he said, shoving his hands into his hoody pocket. He was wearing his Wayne Enterprises one, since he’d sweated all over the Batman one.

Maybe Bruce was right and he needed a summer hoody or something, because it was hot in the garage, too. Since the door was open to the outside and all…

Jason walked over to the open garage door and leaned back against the threshold between inside and outside and asked, “How often do you do this?” as he motioned at everything inside the garage.

“Every six months,” Bruce said, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his t-shirt sleeve. Then he stood up and looked straight as Jason as he asked, “Do you want to help?”

“What?” Help?

Bruce would actually let Jason help?

“Come here,” Bruce motioned with his head for Jason to come over, “I’ll show you what I’m doing.”

Jason pushed off the wall and took an aborted step forward as he asked, “Really?” Couldn’t he like, fuck up the car horribly??

Why would Bruce want him to help?

“Of course, this is a good skill to know. One day you’ll have a car of your own to take care of.”

“I will?” Jason asked, a little dazed as he did cross the garage to where Bruce was working.

Not many people owned cars, where he was from. He’d never actually dreamed that one day he’d own a car.

But maybe he should have. Because… if he got a real job, like doctor or lawyer or something, then he’d have enough money to buy one.

And if he did that, he’d probably need one to get to work and stuff.

“Of course,” Bruce said, like he hadn’t even thought the opposite. Once Jason had fully approached the car, and inched up to the side of the engine compartment, across from Bruce, he said, “Okay, tell me what all you know about cars.”

“Uh,” Jason stammered. He didn’t know much about cars, in the grand scheme of things. He’d only recently been able to research them! “Well. I know that’s the engine,” he continued, pointing to where the engine was, hiding under a cover, “And it has, uh, cylinders and pistons…”

He trailed off, but when he looked back up at Bruce, Bruce was smiling brightly, like Jason had said the right thing, so he tried to return the smile.

“Great, you already know more than most drivers,” Bruce said, as he walked back over to his workbench. He grabbed a pair of gloves and held them out for Jason as he said, “Engines have oil in them we need to change, to make sure it’s staying clean. Dirty oil damages the engine, which can cause some serious problems. Engines also burn off oil, so changing it ensures we’re keeping enough in there for the engine to work properly.”

Jason listened attentively as he rolled his sleeves up and pulled the gloves on. Bruce went to on explain how they were going to get the old oil out, replace it, and change the oil filter. He’d known kind of vaguely the basics of all that, but he’d never heard it be explained in detail.

Bruce walked him through everything, and even let Jason do some of the work. Like pull out the old oil filter and insert the oil extractor down into the car. Bruce took a step back once he showed Jason what to do, and even let Jason extract all the oil. By himself.

It was actually super easy. No wonder Bruce did his own oil changes.

While Jason was watching the oil slowly drain from the engine and into the extractor, Bruce went and got two huge bottles of oil off the shelf, which was stocked with, like, twenty bottles of the stuff.

“That much?” It looked like he had two gallons of oil, or more. Probably more. The bottles were bigger than milk jugs.

“Yes,” Bruce said, as he set the two bottles on the ground next to the extractor, “This car needs almost six quarts.”

Jason had no idea how much that was, because who measured shit in quarts?? But he nodded and watched from the side of the car as Bruce took the extractor out and slipped the funnel in, then poured the entirety of one of the bottles in.

It wasn’t until he started pouring in the second bottle did Bruce say, “Okay, I need you to pull the dip stick out and check the level.”

Jason bounced back around to the front of the car, so he could reach the dip stick. Bruce stepped to the side, further out of the way, but couldn’t go too far since he was still holding the bottle over the funnel, but it was fine. Jason could reach it just fine.

“Pull it out and wipe it off,” Bruce explained, when Jason located the dip stick, “then dip it back in. That will give you an accurate reading.”

Nodding, Jason grabbed the rag Bruce had set next to the dip stick and did exactly as told. Once he had the ‘accurate’ reading he held it up into the sun and squinted at it, trying to figure out if he was supposed to be able to tell if it was low. “Uh, it’s below the bottom dot.”

“That means we don’t have enough in there. You want the oil between the two dots.”

“Ah.” Jason nodded, and watched as Bruce poured more into the engine, a little at a time.

Each time he had Jason check the levels again, until the line was almost all the way to the top dot. Once it was, Bruce nodded contentedly and said, “That’s good enough,” and put the bottle of oil back down on the ground, “Now we just have to put the new filter in and we’re done.”

Doing that was a piece of cake. It was basically just the reverse as removing it. Then Bruce had Jason put the engine cover on by himself and they were done.

Just like that.

“Great job,” Bruce said, as he removed the stick holding the hood open, then motioned for Jason to step back so he could drop it shut. Jason jumped when the hood slammed closed, but then smiled when Bruce added, “You’re a pro already.”

“This is some people’s job,” Jason said, as he stepped back into the sunlight, shining in through the open garage door behind him, where he could get a good look at all of Bruce’s cars.

“It sure is,” Bruce said, “Mechanics is a very good field to go into. We’ll always have a need for mechanics.”

“Unless all the rich assholes start doing it themselves,” Jason said, walking along the edge of the driveway, toward the other row of cars on the other side of the garage.

Bruce huffed as he peeled his gloves off and tossed them over at the work bench. “If I crashed one of these,” he said, walking back to the Volkswagen with the key in his hand, “or the engine failed or something drastic, I’d let a mechanic fix it. I just do the routine, easy things.”

“Oh.” Jason supposed that made sense. It probably wasn’t fun if it was super tedious or whatever.

While Bruce started up the Volkswagen and backed it up into its spot, in the row of cars across the way from Jason, he wandered down the new row of vehicles.

All of the cars Bruce or Alfred drove the most were closer to the door to the Manor, so that’s where the Tesla and Bentley were. On this side was some cars Jason didn’t even recognize. He’d need to do a lot of research on fancy-ass sports cars to figure them out, too.

That was, until he stopped on the last car in the row and recognized the SRT logo on the side of the grille.

“No way,” he whispered to himself, as he circled the car.

There was no way it was what he thought it was.

He’d just seen a documentary… or four… about this car three days ago. It was an expensive car, sure, but not like million dollars expensive. It wasn’t even 100k, if he remembered right. He hadn’t been expecting Bruce to have one.

Then again, Bruce owned a Volkswagen. And this was an awesome car.

“You like that one?” Bruce asked, from across the garage.

“Is this a Hellcat?” Jason asked, before he cupped his hands around his eyes so he could try to peek inside. Sadly the tinted windows were too dark, though, so he stood back up and looked over at Bruce.

And Bruce looked… delighted. That was the only way Jason could describe it. He looked delighted.

“It sure is.”

“Dude,” Jason exclaimed, excitement bubbling up in him so quickly he felt like he would burst, “No way! What year is it? Does it really have a red key? How fast does it go? Why don’t you drive this one everywhere!”

Bruce grinned probably the most genuine grin Jason had ever seen but he couldn’t even though about it, because holy shit. He was right!!!

This was like, one of his favorite cars ever.

He’d watched four different documentaries, all on youtube, all because of the red key and how the regular black key governed the engine but the red key unlocked over seven hundred horse power.

And besides being so fucking cool that a car could go so fast, it was such a funny image, picturing seven hundred horses pulling a car.

Bruce walked over to the key lock box, up near the door to the manor, and put his Volkswagen key away. Before he shut it, though, he pulled out a bright red key and Jason just about lost it.

“Oh my God, that’s so cool.”

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Bruce asked, holding the key up, but not yet crossing the garage.

“Are you serious?” Jason asked. Bruce unlocked the doors in answer, so Jason exclaimed, “Yes!” and quickly rounded to the passenger side to open the door and look inside.

The first thing that hit him was the new car smell.

Such a wonderful, beautiful smell. Probably one of his favorites.

“This is so cool,” he whispered, in hushed awe as he slipped into the passenger seat.

There was a backseat, but there was almost no windows back there, and barely any space, and he wanted to see. Not be trapped and blind to everything happening. So Jason buckled himself into the passenger seat and just hoped Bruce wouldn’t make him move.

But Bruce just walked around to the driver door, smiling softly as he slid in and buckled himself in. “Feeling good?” he asked, as he dropped the key into the cup holder.

Good????

Jason was fucking ecstatic.

“Are you gonna go fast?”

In answer, Bruce pressed down on the brake and pressed the start button, then revved the engine loudly.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Jason said under his breath, trying not to grin too wide when Bruce put the car in drive and slowly pulled out of the parking spot.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Bruce said. Jason didn’t even have enough time to agree, though, before Bruce lined the car up with the garage door and then gunned it.

Mostly because Jason was too busy laughing, watching the trees and bushes that lined the driveway speed by.

He only had to slow down a little for the gate, because somehow he told it to start opening before they got anywhere near it.

“You’re gonna get pulled over,” Jason said, through his laughter as Bruce hit 60 MPH out on the road outside the estate. On a road with a speed limit of 20.

“Probably,” Bruce agreed, obviously not caring one bit as he shifted gears and started going faster.

The car only his 70, though, before he slowed down to come to a stop sign at the end of their long, semi-private road.

“Okay, we have a couple options here,” Bruce said, looking over at Jason, “There’s a high school with a large parking lot we can play in, or there’s an industrial area with a network of roads that are deserted on Saturdays. Which do you think sounds better?”

Jason fidgeted in his chair, but asked, “Which one can you go faster on?”

“The industrial complex,” Bruce said, immediately turning the car to the left and zipping off again.

Bruce did keep the speed down, though, as they drove through all the little neighborhoods. Which was probably good, because Jason saw a few kids playing in their yards, and hitting a kid would probably be super bad.

But it only took a couple minutes before they were suddenly staring at a wide open straight road.

A huge wide open straight road, with four lanes running in either direction.

Obviously it was meant for tons and tons of traffic, but true to Bruce’s word, it was completely deserted.

“This was built up to be a large industry area,” Bruce explained, as he pulled onto the road and came to a stop right in the middle of it, “and there ended up being only two companies to move here. It’s one of my favorite places to play with a car.”

“It looks like a race track,” Jason observed, leaning forward in his seat so he could see over the dash, at the brake marks on the street right in front of them.

“It’s used as one. Ready?”

Quickly, Jason sat back in his seat again and nodded enthusiastically.

He was so ready.

Bruce smiled and put one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch, then floored it.

Jason it thrown back into the seat hard, they accelerated so fast.

And all Jason could do was laugh.

Bruce treated the road like it’s a race track, circling it several times, making the car slide sometimes in his turns, the tires squealing as he did, every single time making Jason laugh harder.

It was the coolest fucking thing Jason had ever done.

They drove for nearly half an hour, Bruce driving around some of the smaller roads around the big huge buildings, and even doing a donut in the middle of a parking lot. Jason just knew that had to be terrible for the tires, but it was so cool to do.

So, so cool.

But eventually, Bruce did turn back to the manor, and by then, Jason’s stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much.

“You like this car, huh?” Bruce said, once they were going slow again, back through the neighborhoods with the kids.

“This is like, my dream car, dude,” Jason said, sitting back up to look at all the buttons on the dash. He hadn’t paid much attention to any of them. “Or, well, one of them.”

He had technically just learned about it a few days before, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t instantly become a dream car.

Bruce held a hand out, motioning at the radio as if saying ‘go ahead, mess with it,’ so Jason did.

He pressed all the buttons.

“Why is a Hellcat one of your dream cars?” Bruce asked, after Jason had figured out how to work the radio and was flipping through the seventy-billion satellite channels.

“I watched a bunch of youtube videos about these the other day,” he said, “I thought they were so cool with the red key. And badass looking too. I didn’t know you had one.”

“What are your other dream cars?” Bruce asked, as he grabbed the red key from the cup holder and held it out for Jason to take.

Happily, Jason took it and started inspecting it, looking at all the buttons in it, before he found a little switch that released the actual key from inside.

Although, obviously the car didn’t need the key. It needed the chip inside the key, that told the computer it was present.

“There’s a lot,” Jason eventually said, as he kept playing with the key. He couldn’t really think of car names, though. “I’ve seen a lot of really cool cars. I just never got to research them until, ya know. You gave me a laptop and stuff.”

“Right,” Bruce said, slowly, “What have you been researching on your laptop?”

“I saw an episode of some show about Roush Mustangs,” Jason said, as he dropped the key back into the cupholder and pulled his legs up on the seat, to sit criss crossed, “those look cool. Although your lambo is way cooler. Your Tesla is awesome, too. I always wanted to see a Tesla in person, then you had one.”

“The Tesla is my favorite commuter car,” Bruce said, as he shifted gears and sped up, now they were back on the semi-private road that led to the manor, “but almost all my other cars are more fun to drive.”

Jason nodded. He could see that, since the Tesla literally drove itself. “This one looks so fun to drive.”

“Tell you what,” Bruce said, once he reached the gate to the manor. This time, he had to come to a complete stop and type in his code and do the eye thing, “If you’re still here when you’re 15, I’ll tech you to drive on this car.”

“What?” Jason said, a little stunned. Because, “really??” He hadn’t even… thought that far ahead.

Not like that, at least. He’d only thought about getting through living with Bruce until he was 18, so he could move out and go to college.

But obviously if he was going to make it to 18, that would mean being here when he was 15 or 16, and…. well. That was when kids were supposed to learn to drive.

Why would he have ever thought Bruce would do that, though?? Teach him to drive??

That was what parents were supposed to do for their kids, and Jason was just a foster kid Bruce got stuck with, because Gordon made Bruce take him.

But, but, but… Bruce said he cared about him… so…

“With the red key?” Jason eventually asked, as Bruce pulled the car into the garage, and started slowly backing it up into its spot.

He paused, however, to give Jason a flat look as he said, “No.” He couldn’t hold the face, though, because he started laughing and added, “No way, with the regular key.”

“Aw.”

Although he supposed 500 horsepower was nothing to sneeze at.

“But,” Bruce said, “I might let you test out the red key, once you prove you’re a good driver.”

“Really?” Jason asked, sitting up straighter in his seat, trying to gauge Bruce’s sincerity.

He didn’t look like he was lying, so Jason cheered, “All right! I can’t wait to be 15.”

“Why don’t you focus on turning 13, first,” Bruce said, cutting the car off.

“Fine,” Jason whined, collapsing back into his seat dramatically. He righted himself quickly, though, to unfasten his seatbelt and hop out. “That was so cool, though.”

Bruce got out of the car himself, and just watched with a smile as Jason bounced up to the front of the car, to look at it and all the bugs they picked up.

Poor bugs, they didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Jason whirled around, a second later, when Alfred cleared his throat from the manor door.

“If you gentlemen are done, lunch has been waiting for you for quite a while. Do come eat it before it gets any colder.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Jason said, at the same time Bruce said, “Sure thing, Alf.”

Alfred quickly retreated, so Jason turned to Bruce and asked, “Is he mad at us?”

“Nah.” Bruce shut his door and started walking to the manor door, but stopped when Jason didn’t start moving in step. “He’s not mad, Jason. That’s the face he makes when he’s very happy and doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t quite sure why Alfred would be ‘very happy,’ but Jason wouldn’t complain about that.

Bruce took a step forward, so this time Jason followed along, and stopped on the steps as Bruce put the key back in the box.

“You’re really going to teach me how to drive on that?” he asked, pointing back at the Hellcat. He kind of had a hard time believing it.

“Yes, I promise,” Bruce said, smiling when Jason shot him a grin.

“All right!” Jason cheered, grinning so wide his face started hurting again. “No take backs, okay?” he said, holding his fist out toward Bruce, “Fist bump.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be startled, apparently, because he looked at Jason’s fist like he had no idea what to do as he said, “What?”

“You’re hopeless,” Jason groaned, slouching dramatically before he straightened up and reached for one of Bruce’s hands. “Look, it’s easy.”

Bruce lifted his hand cautiously, and let Jason forced his fingers to form a fist as he said, “Make a fist. There. Okay, now pound it.” Jason make his own fist again and bumped it against Bruce’s hand, grinning wide again. “There. No take backs, we fist bumped.”

“Uh, yes,” Bruce said, like he couldn’t figure out what to fucking say. His smile grew wide, though, and then morphed into something fonder. “I swear it, no take backs.”

Jason fidgeted, under Bruce’s stare, so he quickly pushed open the door as he said, “Come on. Alfred said lunch is getting cold.”

He didn’t want to think about whatever Bruce was thinking.

They’d just had a freaking awesome time, Jason was not about to ruin it. No sir.

So he skipped on ahead, to the kitchen where Alfred had a couple paninis sitting on the counter, and just focused on the fact that Bruce was going to teach him to drive.

In the Hellcat.

All because Jason liked the car.

How fucking awesome was that????

This is chapter 46 of Reclaiming Innocence, slightly edited to read as a one-shot. Link to story can be found on my masterlist. 

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Bestfriend (College!Childe x College!Reader) PART 1

note: hello! i'm going to be making an entire college au series for the genshin characters ehe. this is a pretty lengthy one so i had to cut it into two parts. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.4k

"Why can't I get this shit to work?!"

You checked the clock.

3:28 AM.

Great. You had a half-seven morning class with professor Cyrus, and yet, here you were. Baking cookies at 3:28 AM. Although, baking wasn't really the appropriate term for it. Maybe... burning was a better fit.

You weren't a culinary arts major; Far from it, actually. You were in a college course that needed immense analytical and critical thinking skills: Accounting. You loved your course. You were always amazed by how numbers can always add up properly if you analyzed all the transactions properly beforehand. It also gave you more patience to thoroughly understand each problem presented to you so that you'd end up with the right answer in the end.

Which is why you were so dumbfounded when your cookies looked like pieces of charcoal the moment you took them out of the oven.

You followed the recipe, didn't you? Why don't your baked goodies look like those gorgeous gooey chocolate chip cookies on the website?

That was the... fourth batch of cookies you made that night. Frustrated, you carelessly threw the still-hot baking sheet in the sink. You didn't even mind that there were crumbs and burnt cookie residue in your damp sink. Like, there were burnt cookies on your counter, on your dining table, and even on your stovetop. Why be bothered about the sink, right? You could clean it up in the morning, anyway.

"Why am I even doing this?" You sighed, eyeing how there was a bit of black smoke coming out of your oven. You opened a window and fanned it out to prevent the smoke detector from going off. You didn't need more nuances adding to your already dwindling patience.

Taking in the sight of the flour, sugar, and egg-coated workstation you had, you realized that baking just wasn't your forte. If only your boyfriend was interested in receiving his complete financial statements for the year, then maybe you'd have an easier time in thinking of a present for his birthday.

You looked at the calendar.

July 20th.

It was the day of Childe's birthday.

He informed you yesterday that his friends had invited him to go to a party the night of the 20th to celebrate his birthday, and you politely declined his offer for you to be his plus one. Of course, he was disappointed. You could notice by how his cerulean eyes drooped to the floor and how his thin, pink lips pushed themselves into a pout.

"But... You have to be there, _____." He whined, taking your hands in his.

"I know, Childe. But you know that I have to review my presentation for professor An's class. It's going to make or break my term grade." You were disappointed. You wanted to spend the entire day with Childe, maybe cuddled up in bed, eating hot pizza and watching Netflix. However, you knew how much he loved partying and hanging out with his friends- Kaeya, was it? and the other boys in their fraternity. You disapproved of his frat-boy party-going lifestyle, but you didn't want to impose, so you just kept it to yourself.

"But it's my birthday," He reasoned, voice laced with sadness.

"I know, darling. I know. We can still spend the entire afternoon together before you head out to party with your friends... If you want. You're free for the entire day, right?" Your voice faltered a bit, unsure of whether he'd accept your proposal or not.

"Mhm! I'd be more than happy to spend the whole afternoon tomorrow with you, babe. We can hit the amusement park, or maybe watch a movie, or maybe have a picnic, or..."

As Childe continued to ramble on about all the possible plans you could do tomorrow, you couldn't help but smile at him. How his demeanor changed, and how he could never seem to hold a grudge against you even if he was upset. He spoiled you so much and you wanted to let him know that you appreciate him as much as he loves you.

And... Here you were.

You didn't expect baking to be so hard. You thought that following a simple recipe would lead to a great outcome the first time around.

Look how that turned out for you. Your tokens of appreciation for Childe were there. In the sink, on the counter, on the dining table, and on the stovetop. All burnt and inedible.

"Fuck this baking thing, I'll just get Zhongli to help me before lunch." You muttered, taking off your apron and retreating to your couch. You didn't want to sleep in your bed because your clothes were still messy, but you were too tired to clean up (too pissed to even care, to be honest).

And so, you flopped on the couch and set an alarm for 6:00 AM before you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of burnt baking pans and noisy smoke detectors.

-

The annoying sound of your alarm rang in your ears like a never-ending mockery of how your life is going. Why do morning classes exist? Why do alarms exist?

You groggily rubbed your eyes and rolled off the couch, landing on the carpet with a soft "thud". You blindly felt around the coffee table to look for your phone. Upon feeling the silicone texture of your case, you pulled it towards your chest and squinted your eyes as the bright display of the lock screen glared against your eyeballs.

You opened your phone by using the passcode (0720, go ahead and guess what that means) and tapped on the green message icon to open your texts. You then quickly typed out a message for a certain history major.

[ Hey, Zhongli, mind if you help me out before lunch later so I could bake some cookies for Childe? ]

Sent 6:04 AM.

You looked up at the ceiling and waited for a while, already planning out your itinerary for the day. The ding! of your phone was heard, waking you more than you already were.

[ I don't see why not. I have a vacant period right before lunch. I'm off at 9:00 and I'm vacant until noon. Are you free then? ]

Received 6:06 AM.

You couldn't help but grin. Zhongli was so kind. He was Childe's friend since high school, and although you found him somehow... creepy because of the knowledge he possesses (Seriously, was his brain implanted with a computer chip or something?), you still considered him a good friend.

[ Thank you so much! Yeah, I only have one class today anyway. I'll meet you in front of the main building by 9:00. ]

Sent 6:08 AM.

You got up from the carpet and stretched for a bit, wincing when the small burn on your arm stung. You had a few cuts and burns on your hands, fingers, and arms because of how clumsy you were in the kitchen, but it was fine. Who doesn't fuck up from time-to-time

You headed to the kitchen to clean up. You dumped all the burnt biscuits into a large garbage bag, wiped the counters, and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Most of the mess was already gone and disposed of, and you whispered to yourself that you could probably deep-clean later that evening after reviewing your presentation.

The ding! of your phone brought your attention back, and you smiled at Zhongli's response.

[ I'll see you then, _____. I appreciate you doing all this for Childe. ]

Received 6:15 AM.

You quickly made your way to your bedroom and grabbed different pieces to throw together a decent outfit. You assumed that Childe wouldn't let you go by the time that your little date would begin, so it's best to be prepared.

You hopped in the shower and did your morning routine, making sure to use your favorite body wash, which happened to be Childe's favorite scent. You dried your hair afterwards and threw on the outfit you prepared earlier. You checked your phone.

6:45 AM.

There weren't any new messages from Childe, so you assumed that he was still asleep. After all, it's his day-off from uni. The lucky bastard got to get one whole day without lectures, and the freest day you had still required you to attend one morning lecture.

"I have to rush to McDonald's if I want to make it in time," You whispered, grabbing your bag and slipping your shoes on before rushing out the door.

You wanted to buy Childe a nice breakfast before heading to your own class. So, you sprinted to the McDonald's just a corner away from your dorm and stood in line. You ordered his favorite breakfast meal: A big breakfast deluxe set with hot chocolate, five-piece nuggets, and a side of apple pie. You also ordered a McGriddle for yourself that you could sneakily bite out of in class.

Childe's apartment was right beside the McDonald's you went to, so it wasn't any trouble reaching where he was. You checked your phone again.

7:10 AM.

Crap. Twenty minutes until your lecture with professor Cyrus. Childe still seemed to be asleep, so you decided to leave his breakfast with the receptionist, Verr Goldet. She already knew who you were because of how often Childe invites you to his apartment.

"I'm really sorry to leave this with you, Verr. But I have to get to class in twenty minutes and I think that Childe is still asleep." You said sheepishly, placing the paper bag on her counter and fiddling with the strap of your bag.

"Oh, _____, you act as if I'm a stranger!" She laughed, taking the paper bag and placing it behind her. "Don't worry, I'll keep it warm for him. Would you like to leave a note?"

"Ah, yes please!" You took a piece of paper and a pen from your bag and scribbled a short message for the ginger.

Happy birthday, Childe! Have a hearty breakfast, I got your favorites. I'll see you later for lunch, okay? I love you! ♡

You tried to make your handwriting as neat as possible, and even added a messy doodle of the man himself. Although, it did look more like a potato than the man you were trying to draw.

"How cute you are." Verr sighed, "It must be nice to feel the wonders of youth."

"Thank you so much, Verr! I really have to get going if I want to get to uni in time."

"You're welcome, _____!"

You bid your farewells and headed out of the apartment's lobby, walking towards the shuttle stop nearest to you. You had at least fifteen minutes before professor Cyrus' class. The shuttle was about ten minutes away from uni, and it would take you a little over five minutes to get to his lecture hall. While waiting for the shuttle, you quickly tapped out a message for your boyfriend.

[ I left something with Verr for you downstairs. You better get it as soon as you wake up ♡ ]

Sent 7:15 AM.

The shuttle arrived as soon as you hit send. You showed your ID to the driver and scrambled for a seat, shoving earbuds in your ears to drown out the rest of the world with a bit of music. Fortunately, the shuttle ride was quicker than usual since there were lesser stops for that day. You gave a light bow to the driver before you rushed out of the shuttle doors and bolted to get to your lecture hall.

It was on the third floor of the left wing of the main building. You were desperately trying to catch your breath as you felt a burn rising in your lungs. You wanted to puke because of how hungry and tired you felt so early in the morning, but you brushed it off.

You sprinted down the hallway to professor Cyrus' lecture hall, seeing that nearly all the seats were occupied. There were still a few vacant seats at the back, but you were glad to see your friend, Xingqiu, waving you over from the middle row.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," You thanked your blue-haired friend, fixing your hair and disheveled clothes. You sat down just in time as professor Cyrus walked into the lecture hall and began setting up his laptop to present.

"No worries. I knew you'd be late. It's Childe's birthday today, no? You've been talking about it all week. I already expected that you'd do something for him this morning." He said, not even batting an eyelash as he carefully opened his laptop in front of him.

"That predictable, huh?" You chuckled, placing your own laptop on the table and taking out the McGriddle you shoved in your bag earlier. Professor Cyrus seemed to be tweaking a few things on his presentation, so you decided to use the spare minutes to eat the sandwich you purchased.

You scarfed it down in a few bites, leaving Xingqiu confused and a bit scared. He thought you were going to choke.

"Didn't you have breakfast before you left your dorm?" He asked, marveling at how you managed to eat the McGriddle in- four, maybe five? bites.

"I mean, I bought this," You said, motioning to the crumpled up wrapper in your hand. "It was getting late since I dropped by Childe's apartment to leave him his breakfast."

"How charming of you, _____." Xingqiu chuckled, slipping on his glasses.

"I wonder if he's awake now," You mumbled, loud enough for Xingqiu to hear, but he didn't react to it.

You opened your phone and saw seven messages from your dorky boyfriend.

[ _____ you're gonna make me cry ]

Sent 7:28 AM.

[ Where are you now? Are you already at uni? ]

Sent 7:29 AM.

[ God, I love you so much, _____! You even got me nuggets!! ]

Sent 7:30 AM.

[ I love you sooo much!! You're so cute it's unreal!! Btw, is this supposed to be me?? Do I really look like that??!! ]

Sent 7:31 AM.

[ I'm so lucky to have you, _____. You really are the sweetest!! ]

Sent 7:31 AM.

[ I'll see you later at noon. I'll pick you up at your dorm, okay? ]

Sent 7:32 AM.

[ You must be in class now. Good luck!! I'm already eating. Thank you so much, darling! I love you!! ♡ ]

Sent 7:34 AM.

You couldn't help but smile at how his aura radiated even through the screen of your phone. You clicked on the notification from Instagram and it opened to a video on Childe's story. It was a boomerang of him making a winky face and then showing his meal neatly placed on his table.

There was a caption beside a heart sticker which read:

What a great way to start my birthday. Thanks to my lovely @_____. I love you so much! ♡

A familiar warmth spread throughout your chest and you couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was. It was amazing, really. Childe's words and actions always had such an effect on you, and it didn't even matter how you were the one who did a romantic gesture for him because you were here all blushy and gushy over his sickeningly sweet messages of affection.

You put your phone away as soon as professor Cyrus soon started his lecture on the different trading policies limited by oversea regulations- or something like that.

The lesson itself was interesting, but you couldn't help to nod off and daydream about your wonderfully dorky boyfriend and his beautiful eyes, his cute button nose, his slim cheeks, his pink lips.

Childe sneezed.

-

As soon as the last bell rang, you quickly gathered your things and shoved them in your bag. You nodded a swift goodbye to Xingqiu before running off to the entrance of the main building.

Zhongli messaged you that his lecture ended earlier than expected, and that he was waiting for you by the entrance already.

You saw the brunette sitting on one of the benches, a thick history book in hand and reading glasses firmly sitting on top of his nose. You noticed a few girls just a couple of feet away from him. They were eyeing him up, probably drinking in the sight of this beautifully constructed creature.

You chuckled. It was common for you to be more aware of people fawning over Childe and Zhongli. They were a couple of incredibly hot males, you knew that. You got used to the sight of other people gawking and eye-fucking your boyfriend and his bestfriend that it was just hilarious and amusing at this point.

"Zhong!" You called, earning the attention of both Zhongli and the group of girls.

"Ah, _____. Glad you're finally here." He closed his book and tucked it away in his satchel (This man owned a satchel) before he stood up to greet you.

"Were you waiting long? Sorry." You said sheepishly.

"No, not at all. I was enthralled by this one chapter on the Ming Dynasty and their more underrated feats. History never fails to amuse me." Zhongli replied, a glint sparkling in his amber eyes.

"Hey, um," You inched yourself closer to him, "Mind if we go on ahead? Some of your fangirls are scaring the hell out of me." From the corner of your eye, you could see how they were drilling holes at your head from staring too hard. You could've sworn one girl was even holding her phone up, as if taking a photo.

"What?" The taller man whipped around to look at the girls and they scurried off upon seeing the intimidating glare in his eyes.

"You and Childe really attract attention everywhere you go, don't you?" You chuckled, walking towards the shuttle station.

"Childe, certainly. He, along with his... fraternity brothers do attract quite the crowd whenever they are together. As for myself, I doubt it. I'm more of the silent-type compared to him, anyway."

"Are you kidding me?" You bit your tongue to hold back the thought.

"I see."

"Those girls look familiar, though." He mentioned.

"Oh? Maybe history majors as well?"

"_____, if they were history majors, I would've at least recognized their faces more clearly. I feel like I've seen them somewhere."

"Ah, my bad. You and your eerily accurate memory." You teased, climbing onto the shuttle and sitting on one of the empty seats.

"It is not eerie, thank you very much." He retorted with a snarky tone, joining you on the seat.

"Of course it isn't. You remember what I said to Childe when we were watching that one movie Rex Lapis: Revenge of the Fallen?"

"Indeed I do. You said, "Rex Lapis would be hot if he was a human, don't you think?" and Childe replied, "Yeah, but I could probably beat him up. I'd be way hotter than him." It was comedy, really. Rex Lapis, although a fictional figure, has far more capabilities than Childe could even dream of."

"Do you... not see the eerie part of that?"

"What? That Childe thinks he can beat up an actual Archon?"

"No... Zhongli, we watched that movie three years ago."

"Your point is?"

"...I can't even remember what I had for lunch yesterday."

"Childe bought you some sushi."

"See what I mean?!"

"That means you have a poor memory, _____." Zhongli laughed at your face curling into a frown. "Anyway, while you were entertaining me with your banter, I recalled why those girls are so familiar."

"Do tell."

"They're part of Childe's posse."

You could've sworn your heart leapt to your throat. You knew that your boyfriend was pretty much sculpted by the Archons themselves, but, really? a fucking posse?

Zhongli noticed how the lump in your throat bobbed, and he decided that it was better to calmly explain how and why he knew about it.

"See, it was during the first year of university. Childe started hanging around Kaeya and his other fraternity brothers. There was this one occasion where Childe was nearly black-out drunk in a bar. If I didn't see on Kaeya's Instagram story, I wouldn't have known," You noticed how Zhongli's face visibly darkened, "These girls were hanging off him like koalas to a strong tree branch. It was unsightly."

"I... see."

"Although he was about to pass out, he pushed them away. Charming, really. He was already crazy about you even during the first year of uni. Even though you weren't together yet, he didn't want to "cheat" on you by entertaining other females." A soft smile made its way to your face upon hearing Zhongli's confession about how your boyfriend felt about you.

"I'm determined to make these cookies a success," You said determinedly.

"Glad to hear it. It seems we're already at your dormitory. You still have enough ingredients for the cookies, right? I assume you failed quite a few times yesterday."

"How did you even know?"

Zhongli once again laughed as you stepped off the shuttle, "Lucky guess."

Unbeknownst to the two of you, three figures were following you the moment you left the campus.

-

"_____ is so sweet! They got my favorite breakfast this morning." Childe mindlessly gushed over his significant other.

Diluc wasn't really one to listen to other people ramble on and on about feelings and love and romance, but it was his friend's birthday. He'd let it slide.

"Bro, that's just gross," Kaeya spat, taking a chug of his beer.

"Oh, shut up, Kaeya. Just because you don't plan on committing to anyone doesn't mean the people around you are obligated to do so as well." Diluc rebutted, without even looking up from his journal.

"You're in college. It's the time when you're supposed to have a shit ton of flings, no commitment. And yet you're here being loyal to _____?" Kaeya glared at Diluc, but the redhead only flipped him off.

"I don't see the problem with that." Childe spoke up, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. It was a gift from you during your first anniversary. You said you made it yourself, and although Childe could purchase all the expensive jewelry and accessories he wanted, this particular bracelet meant more to him than anything.

"The problem is _____'s going to hold you back!" Childe knew that Kaeya was half-drunk and it was still before noon, so he didn't really take his words seriously. "They aren't going to the party later, right?"

"No, unfortunately. They have to review a presentation for professor An's class."

"Hah! Review my ass. If I knew any better, that little toy of yours is just messing around with some other dude."

"Watch yourself." Childe stood up from his seat. He knew that Kaeya disapproved of their relationship because it wasn't really a "frat-boy" thing, but he didn't care about that. He cared about you more than a stupid reputation, and definitely more than a stupid lifestyle of partying, getting high, and getting drunk.

"Back up, softie. _____'s pussyness rubbing of on 'ya?" Kaeya's words were slurred, but Childe knew that there was malicious intent behind them.

"Look, I don't care about what you say about me. Call me a softie? Call me a pussy? I don't really give a shit. But the moment you start shitting on my _____? Don't even consider that I'd just stand around and let them be slandered, you piece of fuck." Childe was a few centimeters taller than Kaeya, and he always used that to his advantage when he wanted Kaeya to understand his point.

"Whatever you fucking say. It's your birthday, I'm not gonna fight with you on your birthday." Kaeya lightly pushed Childe away from him before downing the rest of the beer can in his hand.

"Don't mind him," Diluc spoke, staring into Childe's eyes. "He never thinks straight, whether drunk or sober."

"Yeah, I kinda got the message." The ginger chuckled, watching as Kaeya nearly tripped over his own feet while walking towards the case of beer supposedly for the party tonight.

"I'm glad that you and _____ are still getting along. It's refreshing to see normal people once in a while."

"Well, when you put it that way." Childe could only laugh.

"Where's the tall brunette at? Isn't he always with you?"

"Ah, you mean Zhongli? I don't know, actually. He has a lecture this morning and I wanted to meet him for a light meal before lunch, but he isn't answering my texts."

"I see."

As if on cue, Childe's phone emitted a soft ding!

He typed in his password and the screen faded into a photo of you. You were wearing one of his hoodies (it was way too big on you) and he could've fainted because of how absolutely adorable you looked.

He received a few Instagram DMs from Ellin. Ellin was a member of their posse. Childe would rather refer to them as "fraternity friends", but she insisted otherwise.

[ You're seriously praising _____ for being a good partner? Poor you, dear. ]

Received 9:41 AM.

He frowned.

[ What are you talking about? Mind your business. ]

Sent 9:42 AM.

[ Oh? It's not my business, sure. But you might wanna see this. ]

Received 9:44 AM.

[ 3 Images Attached ]

Received 9:44 AM.

Childe's eyes widened. Ellin sent three photos.

The first one was a photo of you and Zhongli standing awfully close to each other in front of the university's main building.

The second one was of you and Zhongli sitting beside each other in the shuttle.

The last one was... you and Zhongli entering your dormitory building.

"What the..."

He checked his messages to see if either you or Zhongli texted him about the ordeal. However, he was only greeted by messages wishing him a happy birthday from some of his family and friends back in their hometown. No messages from Zhongli, and no new ones from you.

"What the hell?"

He quickly typed out a message for his bestfriend. He didn't jump to conclusions; He trusted both of you, but what was this feeling in his gut? It felt icky, gross, and disgusting.

[ Where are you rn? Answer me. ]

Sent 9:46 AM.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace. Diluc wanted to question him, but the worried look on the ginger's face made him bite his tongue.

Childe wasn't the type of person to jump to conclusions, nor was he the type of person to get upset immediately over trivial things. But upon receiving an irksome reply from the amber-eyed bestfriend he knew and love, his blood began to boil.

[ None of your business. ]

Received 10:05 AM.

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Thurs 18 March ‘21

The Zayn/ Zach Sang interview is happening, for real this time (fingers crossed)! It’s scheduled for tomorrow!! Zach promises to ask lots of NIL questions. And I really believe it’ll happen this time, Zayn OUT THERE doing promo-- he did multiple radio spots yesterday and answered every question thrown his way however stupid, even throwing caution to the wind and taking on the one they’re all always trying to avoid (though not so far to the wind as to choose any of the other options each of which would be a scandal in a different way- you can take the boy out of the media training but...)- “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “Niall is my favorite. How about that? There you go. Niall makes the best music. Yeah I will say that he makes better music than me. Yeah, I’m a Niall fan." About the grammys he said, “It's nothing to do with my own personal gain because even if they nominated me at this stage, I wouldn't even go and accept the award because it doesn't mean anything to me.”

Zayn talked about how he just wanted to do a song with Ingrid, he didn’t know what, “I didn’t expect it to be anything less than great but it was better than that… it hit the nail on the head” and “the fact that it’s an important message in the song makes it better.” He also said that he listens to a lot of country music and would really like to collab with Chris Stapleton. OKAY! TBH I can hear how that makes sense- amazing, I am manifesting this, come on universe! He also said that he will have new music this year in an old school R&B style though and that he would like to do live shows after the pandemic!! If I didn’t think he was just saying things I would be LOSING MY MIND right now but omg WHAT IF?? He said Khai is an easy baby, a good sleeper and eater, that he likes singing to her, and that Gigi is a “wicked mom” and “a big help,” LMAO (RIP Zayn, strangled by his baby mama). RCA posted a couple more gorgeous new Zayn pics, and Ingrid raves about how Zayn’s fans are “the sweetest most supportive people” and she feels “like I’ve been hugged by a million stars today.” Am I to understand that it’s possible for stans to treat a woman working with their fave with kindness?? My mind is REELING!

Hopefully Harry has had enough time to process having achieved a great industry honor, because yesterday brought another- he was on Beyonce’s insta! She included a picture of the two of them talking backstage in her big grammys wrap up post (plus he’s visible behind her in a shot of her winning- say what you will about the orange jacket it’s great for visibility!) And Lil NasX, perfect as always, has something to say about Harry too- he says “stop using me as a bait against harry styles. I love harry, if y’all fw what I wear say it without mentioning him,” and posts a couple examples of the types of tweets he means such as “we have GOT to stop acting like Harry Styles is a male fashion icon when lil nas x is right there.” Stop pitting girls against each other2k21! Nas gets it, bless him. Oh yeah and an old pap video from DWD set of Harry going into Olivia’s trailer posted which I ignored because it was so completely uninteresting but apparently that’s a BIG DEAL to some people. My bad! You’re so right, the only reason someone would possibly go into a room with a coworker is obviously that they’re fucking! They probably had sex right there while the paps were outside! I mean there were a bunch of other people visibly in the trailer too but whatever. Oh and as long as we’re doing nonsense catch up- he was seen with a FEMALE in Malibu the other night omgggg they’re clearly dating. Oh but actually it might have been Mitch! LMAO, but that’s okay we can have discourse about how they’re obviously fucking anyway cause like… dinner! TOGETHER!! The scandal.

Anyway Louis has a message for us, can you guess what it is? Yes that’s right-- “Hope everyone's doing alright!!” No matter how many times he says it, I still love the hello, thanks love (even if it was an afterthought and he was actually there to follow a crypto currency trading account). A bunch of old videos of him were posted today, including one from 2019 where Louis says about acting in his music videos “I wasn’t acting it’s who I am hahahaha” (ahhhhh I miss that laugh) and he’s on the wall of a THIRD MUSEUM! Louis is Art pt lll-- A Doncaster history timeline at the local museum has a big entry for Doncaster’s finest export, labeled “Louis Tomlinson Achieves Super Stardom”! Earlier entries were his face (hung up high) in the National Portrait Gallery and the science museum employee who saw their chance and took it by crediting a mushroom joke to him, a deep Video Diaries reference in the year of 2019; whoever that unknown louie is I hope they are having a very nice day every day, what a hero.

And a photodump from Zayn’s favorite member of OT4! Labeled DUMP (charming thank you) Niall posts an assortment of selfies (that sunglasses one! Ashe agrees, commenting “photo number four thank you very much”) and aesthetic pics and one tiny snippet of a piano tune, and speaking of photodumps from favorites of Zayn’s, a BUNCH of outtakes from Liam’s Grinder Tetu photoshoot just got posted and if I were a gay man I’m pretty sure I would have just had a heart attack, view with care they should probably be PG13.

[rhysismydaddy]

An Artful Revenge Pt. 1

First part of The Archeron Damnation series. 

~Rhysand~

Have you ever had everything you’ve ever wanted dropped in your lap like a present? 

It makes it so easy you almost don’t even want it anymore. 

Before today, this had never happened to me. For over thirty years, I’ve worked and fought and killed for everything I’ve wanted. Nothing about my life has been easy. 

Until today. 

Until a young, beautiful woman paused to look at a piece of art, oblivious to the monster who stood behind her. 

As soon as I looked up and saw her, I felt like an anvil fell on my chest and robbed me of air. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

For the first time in my long, miserable life, I was utterly speechless as Feyre Archeron tilted her head contemplatively, as if the slab of paint was something that required great concentration. 

Her focus was so singular it gave me more than enough time to figure out what I wanted to do. 

But I couldn’t concentrate enough to even do that. Not yet. For now, I just took her in. Photos didn’t do her justice, honestly. Sandy blonde hair, a slight frame more than pleasing to look at from the back, defined cheekbones, full lips. Beautiful. 

It was almost unfair for someone like her to be so beautiful.

She had a hand on her chest and was completely still as she looked at the work in front of her, like she almost couldn’t stand the rush of emotions it gave her. 

I understood the feeling. 

My friends often tell me I should go on the road as a mind reader or fortune teller or some other bullshit. The point is, I’m pretty decent at reading people. 

And just from the way the woman in front of me is looking at an overpriced, ugly piece of art, I know she’s innocent. 

She has no idea who she used to share a bed with, no idea what kind of evil she invited into her life with a smile. 

I also know I can’t let it change things in the slightest. Innocent or not, beautiful or not, I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to worm my way into her life and turn it fucking upside down. 

And she’s just handed it to me on a silver platter. 

I’ve been looking for her, and I’ve finally found her. 

She’s mine.

~Feyre~

“You like it?”

Gasping and pressing my hand harder against my chest to calm my racing heart, I spin around to face whoever just asked such an obvious question. 

And the first thing I can think is, He’s more beautiful than the painting. 

The stranger’s casually leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, confidence and wealth and class draped over him like a very impressive, very handsome mask. 

He’s concealed in a jet black suit, but somehow I can tell he’s impressively built; it’s like strength and power are radiating off of him. His face probably took the gods years to craft, the sharp angles of his jaw and slash of his brows perfectly creating the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen. 

Dark hair, piercing violet eyes that scan me head to toe, and smirking, sensual lips complete his features. 

He’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. And I’m an art major who frequently finds herself painting models, so that’s saying something. 

“You like it,” he states, whatever he finds on my face taking away the need for a question mark. 

“I do,” I confirm, forcing myself to turn back to the painting and stop gawking like an idiot. 

He surprises me by asking openly, “Why?” 

The painting in question is one of the most revered paintings in the world: Dancers in Blue by Degas. But he’s asking in a way that makes it clear he genuinely doesn’t know why people pay to look at it.

Running my hand through my hair, I try and put it into words. “There’s just so much... energy in it. The background’s nothing but a bunch of paint splatters, and yet you can feel it almost. The dancer’s excitement, the energy of the crowd. It’s breathtaking.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I cringe inwardly, thinking of how weird that probably sounded. 

Then, “Would you like it?”

Only four words and they almost knock me on my ass. I spin back around so fast he chuckles, eyes wide, and sputter, “Would I what?”

I mean, it’s clear he’s rich, but there’s rich, and then there’s buying a Degas rich. 

“I was planning on buying it anyway. It should belong to someone who loves it as much as you obviously do.”

“What?” I repeat, still not understanding why he would offer something like that to a total stranger.

“I presumed you to be intelligent, but if you keep asking that question, I might have to amend that.”

I narrow my eyes, somehow intelligent enough to pick up on the insult. “I’m just confused. I mean, you look rich and all, but that painting’s worth $45 million dollars. And you just asked...”

“If you want it.”

Putting my hands on my hips, I regard him speculatively. “Which psych ward did you break out of, exactly?” 

He smiles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can accept the painting and stare at it from home, or I can buy it and hang it with the other one and never give it a second thought.”

My mind can’t stop running, and I think if I wasn’t determined to not completely embarrass myself, I’d collapse to the ground and sob at the impobability of this situation. “What do you mean the other one? You already have a Degas?”

“The pink one,” he confirms casually, flicking a nonexistent fleck of dust off his jacket. 

“You have Dancers in Pink?” He nods, lips twitching at the look on my face. “And why, exactly, are you buying priceless pieces of art if you don’t like them?”

“It’s not priceless. You just told me it’s worth $45 million.” I scowl at the non-answer, and he shrugs. “Someone I don’t care for likes them.”

I connect the dots slowly. “So you buy them so he can’t.”

He nods. 

My mouth falls open, making him smile again. It’s dangerously attractive and distracting, but I still demand, “Who the fuck are you?”

The stranger laughs outright at that, strolling forward and offering me a tan, tattooed hand with practiced ease. I notice there’s a platinum, engraved ring on his pointer finger, and I stare at it for a moment because it looks strangely familiar. 

He seems to pause as I look at it, holding his breath. I’m probably acting like a total weirdo, so I snap out of it and take his hand. 

Because he’s rich and confident and beautiful, he feels entitled to drag his calloused thumb across the back of my hand. 

And because I’m poor and stupid and at the end of the day, just a woman, I blush. Which only gets worse as he notices and smirks. 

“My name is Rhysand.”

“Rhysand what, exactly? Rockefeller? Vanderbilt? Carnegie?” I run out of rich families and fall silent, and he gives me a look like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever come across. 

“Rhysand Azara. When you google me, you won’t find anything of consequence, I’m afraid.”

The way he says when instead of if makes me blush again, because I’d been waiting for him to leave so I could pull out my cracked, struggling little phone and do exactly that. 

He looks at me expectantly, and I realize I haven’t said a word, just held onto his hand like a toddler being led across the street. “Oh, I’m Feyre.”

Rhysand just raises an eyebrow. 

“Feyre Archeron.”

“And what would I find if I were going to google your name?”

I notice his statement has an if, but I answer anyway, stating facts nervously like an army cadet reporting for duty. “I’m an art major at UChicago. From Missouri.”

“What else?”

“There’s really not much else.”

He tsks, telling me this answer is unacceptable, but doesn’t press it. Instead he shocks the hell out of me once again. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

It isn’t a question, but it isn’t quite a demand, either. It’s a statement, and it’s said like he already knows what my response is going to be. 

But like I just told him, I’m a college student. 

Which means for the past three years, I’ve been dealing with college boys. 

I’ve been asked to “hang,” “smash,” and even to go to coffee on a few rare, wonderful instances. But never, in my entire life, have I been asked---or told--to go to dinner by someone like him. 

I realize it’s because I’ve never met anyone like him. 

Even my ex-boyfriend, who’d been well off and older, was nothing like him. Compared to the man in front of me, everyone else seemed... juvenile. 

They were boys, toddlers even, compared to the man still gripping my hand.

It prompts me to ask, “How old are you?”

He smiles. “Too old for you, I’m sure. Have dinner with me anyway. For the sake of the painting.”

I’m halfway sure I’m in the middle of a fever dream, about to wake up covered in sweat and wondering what the hell just happened, because this cannot be real. 

“You’re... are you actually... you’re offering to give me a $45 million painting if I have dinner with you?” I sound incredulous and wheezy to my own ears, but I don’t even care. 

Who the hell is this guy? 

“You’ll be my second most expensive date.”

“You’re insane.” I look down to where he still holds my hand, entire focus narrowing on the strength in his grip. How would it feel to have him grip me somewhere else? Rhysand gives me a look like he knows what I’m thinking, so I look at the ceiling. Then declare, “I can’t have dinner with you.”

It almost hurt to say it, honestly, because I really love that painting. 

He waits until I look back down at his face before asking, “Why not?” 

Blushing to high hell, I murmur, “It feels a little like... prostitution.”

Rhysand throws his head back and laughs, a full, wonderful sound I hadn’t been expecting. It’s easy and contagious, and I find myself grinning, even though what I said was true. 

“Dinner, gorgeous, was the deal.” He leans in close and whispers, “You coming home with me won’t have anything to do with it.”

I push him away, mind set on giving myself a few feet away from him to compose myself, but I’m so dizzy and confused and strangely turned on I almost fall. His hands shoot out, landing on the bare skin of my shoulders, and I pause. 

And really, really contemplate my life. 

Yesterday I was sitting on the floor of my dusty apartment in my underwear, eating Ramen and struggling to figure out what the fuck to put in the background of my painting. Today I’m being asked to dinner by a probable-billionaire. On the condition I accept a very expensive form of bribery. 

“I’m not going home with you, but I’ll have dinner with you.” He starts to smile, so I cut him off, “Only if you promise to not buy the painting.”

His brows narrow, a silent demand for information. 

“I come here almost every day to see it anyway,” I explain. “Besides, there’s no way I can accept it. It’ll get stolen or damaged or... I just can’t accept it. And the thought of you putting it in some forgotten hallway depresses me.”

He sighs dramatically and re-puts his hand out. “No painting. Just dinner.”

“And no sex.”

A very male look crosses his features. “We’ll discuss that later, I think.”

I roll my eyes but shake hands with him, a strange sense of finality settling over me. I shake it off, telling myself the bare mention of having sex with him is why I’m so nervous. 

~

Four hours later, I stand at the door, purse clutched in one hand, keys in the other. I’m staring at the door, practically foaming at the mouth, waiting for a knock on the other side to hopefully shock me out of my crazed state. 

I’ve been like this for ten minutes already, for some reason not wanting him to wait for a second after he got here. Or maybe I just don’t think he’s actually coming. 

Maybe I’ve been on some horrible practical jokes show, and Rhysand Azara isn’t even a real person. I’ll probably end up on television, blushing and beyond naïve, having been convinced a man who looked like a male model wanted to buy me a Degas. 

I snort, shaking my head at myself. And then almost fall down when a soft yet somehow insistent knock sounds through my small apartment. 

“Holy fuck, he’s here.”

I have no idea why I state it aloud, to myself no less, but I feel like it should be said. Hell, it should be written down in history books. If I kept a diary, I’d write in bold, underlined letters: I HAVE A DATE WITH A VERY STRANGE, VERY HANDSOME MAN.

After fluffing my hair and checking my makeup in a mirror, I stop stalling and open the door. 

He, of course, looks like sex on a goddamn spoon. And for a split second--just a moment, I swear--I debate grabbing him by his expensive lapels, dragging him backward into my apartment, and finding out what his mouth feels like against mine. 

“Feyre,” he greets, snapping me out of my perverted daydream. “You look beautiful.”

I know it’s dumb to be flattered, because it’s fairly standard to tell a girl she looks nice when you pick her up for a date, but it does my ego no harm because how I look right now took some fucking work. 

I shaved from the eyebrows down, exfoliated, scrubbed, cleansed, plucked, and spent thirty minutes deciding what to wear. 

I’d taken a gamble he’d wear a suit and dressed to match in a black dress, unremarkable save for the very low back, and simple heels. 

I step outside with him, grateful for the warm weather, and turn to lock the door. 

Rhysand makes a humming sound, and I freeze as I feel a finger drag down my spine, stopping right at the edge of the fabric. Which happens to be very, very close to something indecent. 

“Beautiful,” he states again, and hell if I don’t feel like it. 

I finally manage to get the lock closed, then spin around to face him. Up close, there’s silver flecks in his eyes, like starlight. Oh, and he smells amazing. Something manly and wintery and not sold in a bottle. 

I. Am in. So much. Trouble. 

I have no idea why this man has taken an interest in me, but I know it can only end in one way: me in love, him long gone. 

But even though I know it, I’m ready. Five minutes with him makes me feel more alive than I ever have, and even though it’s a disaster in the making, I can’t bring myself to care. 

He offers his hand and pulls me towards a--surprise--black car, one that looks expensive. After depositing me in the passenger seat, he goes around and climbs in beside me. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m making a guess about something.”

I glance over at him. “Have you ever realized you don’t give actual answers?”

"Yes,” he responds with a grin, turning the stereo on. 

Twenty minutes later, I’m practically bursting at the seems to know where he’s taking me. 

What kind of guess is he making? Also, what does that even mean?

He pulls up in front of a nice looking place I’ve never been to--again, surprise--and comes around to open my door. Despite the crowd, as soon as the hostess sees the man leading me through the restaurant, we’re ushered into the back. 

Turns out the place has private rooms. It’s quiet and cozy, and I’m pretty sure only the president gets this kind of treatment. 

Once I’m seated across from him, menu in hand, I have to ask, “Was your guess correct?”

“I don’t know, do you like French food?”

I smile because j’adore French food, and he grins back because he somehow knew that already. 

The waiter comes to ask for our drink order, and I gesture at Rhysand for him to order mine. I know nothing about wine, and he obviously does, because he orders something fancy and expensive sounding. 

There’s soft music playing in the background, candles in the corner, and a handsome man sitting across from me. It’s the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in, hands down. 

He braces an arm on the table, watching as I take a small sip of the wine. Trying to maintain some sort of maturity, I say, “You have good taste.”

“I do,” he replies, but his eyes are on me, not the wine. “Are you almost done with school?”

“One more year,” I answer, trying not to cheer as I say it. Four years of education for an art major is kind of ridiculous to me, but it would’ve been stupid to turn down a full scholarship. 

Rhysand hums, nodding. Even though he asked, I somehow feel like he already knew that. Weird. 

“Did you go to college?”

He gives me a strange look. “My formal education stopped around seventh grade.”

It’s an effort to keep my jaw off the table, and I’m proud of myself when I say mildly, “Impressive.”

“Being uneducated impresses you?”

I scowl. “No, but having everything you do despite not being handed anything is.”

His face stays impassive, but there’s a twinkle of respect in his eyes. The waiter comes back and asks what we want to eat, and because the menu I’ve barely even looked at is in French, I get the same thing as Rhysand. 

When we’re alone again, I ask, “Okay, spill. How’d you know I love French food?”

Rhysand shrugs. “I’m good at reading people.”

I wave a hand, because that wasn’t answer enough, and he continues on a sigh. “You’re kind of... easy to read. No offense.”

“Interesting you say ‘No offense’ after calling a woman easy,” I note.

He laughs, but points out, “You’re not easy. I offer to buy you a Degas and you won’t even come home with me.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Once again, you haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a long beat of silence. “You like French food because you like Impressionist art, and both Degas and Monet were French. Your dream vacation also happens to be Paris, and eating French food makes you feel closer to that goal.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs soundly at the blatant display of shock, but before I can ask how the hell he knew that, the waiter comes with our food. Identical displays of delicious-smelling pasta are set in front of us. 

I reach for my fork, but he grabs our plates and switches them. 

When I raise a brow, he shrugs and says, “In case you were thinking about poisoning me.”

I snort in a very ladylike manner, tucking into my food. A soft moan escapes me, and he looks up at me, bite halfway between his plate and mouth. 

“Uh, sorry,” I murmur, blushing down the neckline of my dress. 

Rhysand just smiles, making me feel young once again. “Don’t be. I quite enjoy the sound of a pleasured woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I take another bite, managing to refrain from sounding too pleasured. “So, Paris. How’d you know?”

He doesn’t really give me an answer, just says, “I bet you have a little Eifel Tower trinket on your desk and everything.”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me, because I do. I totally do. I’ve had it for three years and look at it every time I’m tempted to drop out.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, trying to get us back on even ground. I feel like he somehow knows everything about me, and even though I’ll have to ask questions, I’m finding out at least one thing about him. 

“I’m in real estate.”

I nod, ready to just accept that answer. Then I look around us, remembering how crowded the restaurant was, and start giggling. “You own this restaurant, don’t you?”

A sigh. Busted. “Yes, I do.” 

I tsk and give him a judgmental look. “You can’t take me somewhere you own for a date. That’s cheating.”

He takes a sip of his wine. “How so?”

“It just is.” I sigh, just to tease him. “Shame. I was feeling so romanticized, maybe enough so to go home with you. Not anymore, though.”

He rolls his eyes, the gesture making him younger. “Eat your food.”

I do, and by the end, I’m so full I probably look pregnant. “Holy fuck, that was good.”

Rhysand smiles, like it’s adorable that I cursed, and pushes back his empty plate. “Dessert?” I shake my head. “Coffee?” 

“I’m so full I might die.”

Rising with fluid grace, he extends a hand. “Then come with me.”

Not bothering to ask questions at this point, I just take his hand and follow him out, noticing the city has a slight chill now that the sun’s gone down.

“Why is it women can never plan for the sun going down?” he ponders, wrapping me in his suit jacket.

“It’s a test to see if you’ll let us freeze to death.”

Rhysand chuckles and slides his hand into mine, so casually and simply it seems like a mundane thing we do every day.

I know I’ve known him for a total of five hours, but everything about today has been... easy. Natural. It’s like we just click, and I’m not stupid enough to question it right now. 

“You’re quite the gentleman,” I remark, bringing up our intertwined fingers to look at the tattoos on his skin. He’s silent for a minute, and when I glance over, he’s looking at the ground as we walk, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You’re probably the only person in this entire world who believes that.”

I scoff, because the idea that the man next to me, holding my hand and running his thumb across my fingers, is anything but a gentleman is absurd.

“What other paintings do you have?” 

It’s a question I’ve been dying to ask since he mention his other Degas. 

“It’s a shame you’re determined to not go home with me. You could see them yourself.”

I drop his hand and shove his shoulder, my lips twitching as he laughs. “You asshole. You’re leveraging access to a private collection for sex? Men are horrible.”

Rhysand chuckles, throwing an arm around me and pulling me close. “I have a Monet,” he whispers in my ear, placing a featherlight kiss to my temple. “And a Rembrandt.” 

“I hate you.”

He releases me and grabs my hand again, then pulls me toward a dark alley I hadn’t noticed he’d been guiding me toward. “Um... where are you taking me?”

He, of course, doesn’t tell me. No, he shushes me. 

“I will not be quiet while you drag me down some seedy alley!” I’m beginning to panic a bit, because besides spending way too much time alone, I like to watch Law and Order, and this is turning into the beginning of a familiar episode. 

“Is this because I said I won’t have sex with you tonight?” Before he can respond, I blurt, “Because I probably will at some point, I’m just kind of nervous-”

“I’m not going to murder you, Feyre darling.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Pouting like a sullen child, I shut my mouth and accept my fate. He tugs me further down the black alley, and eventually I can’t even see. Can he? Is he some sort of vampire? Am I really asking myself that?

The glow of his phone illuminates the dark for a second, and I catch the time 11:59. “One more minute.”

“Until...?”

He’s silent for thirty-eight seconds, then he says, “Until this.”

Suddenly, the space above us lights up, colors shooting all around us in a kaleidoscope of reds and blues and greens. 

Gasping, I look up to see the air above us full of glass lanterns, the surfaces painted with swirling black paint. The alley is covered wall to wall, and the end result gives the walls around us beautiful designs and dimension.

I laugh in surprise, twirling around to take in the entire place. “What is this?”

“We’re in the artist’s quadrant of the city. I don’t know why, but they do this every night, exactly at midnight.”

I spin around in a circle, arms out, smiling from ear to ear. He watches with a grin, leaning against one of the walls casually. I walk down the alley, eyes up, taking in everything. 

It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. 

The lanterns are each unique, like they were done by different people. Some are solid colors, others are mixtures. 

I look back over at Rhysand, beams of red and blue and pink bouncing off his face, a smile playing at his full lips. It’s obvious he took me here because he knew I’d love it, and it makes me feel insanely special. 

Still giddy with happiness, I bound over to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and press my lips to his. 

For a second, we probably look like idiots, just standing there pressing our smiles together. 

Then, like we’re in synch, the smiles fall away and we start to actually kiss. 

His hands slip inside the jacket, linking at the small of my back and pulling me closer to him. He’s still leaning against the wall, back against the brick, and I put my hands on his chest, fingers digging into the corded muscle I find there. 

Rhysand pulls back for a minute, traces his fingers over my face lightly. He looks so surprised and confused, I’m tempted to ask what’s wrong. But then his mouth is back on mine, moving more fervently, and I forget all about it. 

His hands cup my jaw, tilting my face to where he wants it, then slide in my hair. 

He tastes like honey and citrus, and I slide my tongue in his mouth, desperate for more. I moan at the taste of him, and he suddenly moves, like the sound unleashed something in him. 

One hand grabs the back of my thigh, the other wrapping around my waist, and then I’m the one against the wall. The brick digs into my shoulder blades, but I hardly even notice, because he wraps my leg around his hips and presses us together. 

His mouth is sliding down my jaw, sucking on the spot between my neck and shoulder softly. I make a low sound, slip my hands in his hair, and prepare to eat him alive. 

And then the world goes dark. 

The lanterns above us turn off, casting us in darkness, but we don’t stop for a few minutes. When we’re both breathless, he pulls away with a low chuckle and releases my leg. 

I slide down him slowly, leaning against the wall for support. 

What the hell was that? 

Did I really just make out with a complete stranger in an alley? 

The answer to that question--and the one of if I’d do it again--is hell yes.  

He runs a hand over his lips, almost in disbelief, then takes a healthy step back and holds out a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

I take another look at the disheveled hair, swollen lips, rumpled shirt. And I know without a doubt that if he were on my doorstep, looking at me with those bedroom eyes, I’d pull him inside without a thought. 

“I think I should take a cab.”

Rhysand smiles, knowing exactly why. “I’m flattered.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, pushing him away and starting back toward the busier street. 

Even though the street’s deserted, he manages to hail a cab easily, the bright yellow car slowing to a stop next to us. I open the back door, kiss his cheek, and slip inside. “Thank you for dinner. Even though you cheated.”

He rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind me. “I’ll call you.”

I nod, feeling a little ridiculous for how happy that statement makes me. Tonight was... like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was just dinner, I remind myself, but it doesn’t do any good. 

It feels like the beginning of something. 

The cab driver glances at me in the rearview mirror and laughs. “That good, huh?”

I don’t even respond because yeah. That good. 

I’m halfway home before I realize I never even gave him my number. And I honestly wonder if I’ll ever see Rhysand Azara again. 

_________________________________________________

Part 2

@elorcan-trash @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2​ @claralady​ @tswaney17​ @rowanisahunk​ @superspiritfestival​ @thegoddessofyou​ @jlinez​ @studyliketate​ @over300books​ @bamchickawowow​ @justgiu12​ @maastrash​ @aesthetics-11​ @b00kworm​ @sleeping-and-books​ @musicmaam​ @hizqueen4life​ @maybekindasortaace​

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (1/?)

Summary: When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Do you know what’s a great way to distract yourself from writing and other responsibilities? By writing a story that you shouldn’t be writing. So, here we are, and I hope you enjoy 😂

On AO3 | Here | 

-/-

June

The ocean water runs over his toes before disappearing, heading back to its home beyond the sand. It’s a cool contrast against the heat of the sun that’s warmly beating down on his skin, but it matches the chill of the beer bottle against his palm. Who knows what time it is? From the emptiness of the beach, Killian is guessing it’s mid-morning, but seriously, who the hell knows anymore?

Likely everyone other than him.

After more water washes over his feet and up his ankles, he decides the water is too cold to stay standing this close to the shoreline, so he walks up the path to his house and closes the gate behind him. He sits down at the bench by his pool and then buries his face in his hands before moving to take a sip of the beer.

God, he hopes it’s not truly the morning because he’s one second away from tipping the bottle enough for the beer to tumble down his throat.

Killian yanks it away and tosses it to the ground. He expects the damn thing to shatter against the tile, but it doesn’t. It rolls away into the grass, spilling a little beer with every turn until it stops against the tall grass lining the gate. Killian bends down and picks up another bottle, popping it open, then pouring it out. He does the same thing over and over again until his grass is fertilized with alcohol.

At least his body isn’t.

What a thought to have (presumably) so early in the morning.

His eyes close, the sun no longer blinding his vision, and he starts picking up the bottles, chasing them around and cursing himself for even buying the damn case in the first place. He has no clue what damn day it is, but he does know that it’s too damn early for him to be drinking. And if he’s going to get wasted and waste his day, he might as well do it with rum or whiskey. He doesn’t even like beer.

Killian chucks the bottles in the bin resting against the side of the rental house and goes through the side door into the kitchen. It’s clean today, all the white countertops empty of plates and pitchers and the junk that accumulates over time. The living room is clean as well, all the pillows in the right place, the throw blankets over the correct corners of couches, and he can see vacuum lines in the rug. He’s sure if he were to walk to the mantle, it’d be empty of dust. Ariel must have sent someone in to clean yesterday while he was away from the house. He’s got to have her stop doing that. He’s thirty-five years old. He can clean the house he’s staying in. He doesn’t need her taking care of his life for him.

Though, it is literally her job, but Ariel takes things far past being his manager. He doesn’t know anyone else who does all the things she does for their client, especially when he isn’t bringing in the same amount anymore. Sponsors aren’t exactly lining up at the door for disgraced football – not the American kind as everyone here believes – players, but he still has a few hanging around and good enough investments that he’ll be alright for a long while. Bored as hell with too much time for him to wander to bars in Martha’s Vineyard before talking himself out of them and sitting in a twenty-four-hour diner all night. He’s got his favorites. One has better coffee than the others, but the booths aren’t clean. Another has clean booths but a piss excuse for coffee, and his favorite has a selection of pies that have him eating in ways he hasn’t since he was young. Still, they’re all pathetic little places for him to spend his time so he doesn’t drink more than he can tolerate.

At least no one knows him here. It’s actually why he’s here to begin with. There are obviously less famous towns and places in the world, but he wanted to be near the ocean, wanted to at least have that if he was going to be in disgraced isolation. This area has beach for miles and different nooks to disappear into, and so far, it’s nice. He’d rather be in London or New York, but he knows this is better.

He collapses onto the couch and sees a note on the coffee table in Ariel’s neat script. When was she even here? Honestly.

Killian, Eric and I are in town for the week. Please come to lunch at our house. We’d love to have you! I know you don’t have anything better to do, so don’t bother calling me with an excuse. Hope you enjoy the clean house!

-   A

He runs his hand over his face and scratches at his too-long beard before fumbling for his phone and checking the date and time. It’s half past eight. He can get two, maybe three, hours of sleep now, and he’ll only look half as pissed as he feels when he makes his way to Ariel and Eric’s house a few miles over in Tisbury.

At least he isn’t actually pissed. Always the positives, he guesses.

-/-

Ariel’s house is covered in gray shingles with white trim. The shutters are cherry red, much like her hair, and while there are obvious updates to the place, it looks just as it did in the pictures he’s seen from when Ariel was young. She was raised here, her father a local fisherman, and while she now resides outside of London, on occasion, she returns to Tisbury for a holiday. It’s why he chose to holiday here even if he’s over in Edgartown on the beach in a house too large for one person. He spent years listening to her talk about her childhood, and then visiting when she married Eric here, and he wanted that calm sense of relaxation.

Right now, however, he wants nothing more than to be back in a city. The firing squad won’t be as intrusive there where he can get lost in a crowd instead of being the center of attention.

Killian opens the unlocked front door that squeaks on its hinges, and he immediately smells garlic bread baking in the oven. She must be making her pasta, and his stomach growls for real food. As he walks through the hall at the entrance of the house, he notices that everything is the same, all the family portraits are in the same places, there are a few too many nautical decorations, but it all works. Killian looks into the kitchen, sees that it’s empty, and calls out for Ariel and Eric, no answer. He takes the liberty of checking the oven, and when he notices the bread is slightly overdone, he grabs an oven mitt and takes it out, placing the tray on the stove.

Where the hell are they?

He pushes open the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and he sees two figures toward the side of the yard. Killian sighs and walks over to them, only stopping when he realizes it’s three people instead of two.

Ariel and Eric are talking to a gorgeous woman in a pair of small white shorts and a fitted polo. She’s got long, thick blonde hair pulled off her neck, and he can’t stop glancing down at her legs. He doesn’t usually pay much attention to people anymore, unless of course they are paying attention to him, but he cannot help but notice her. Because she’s stunning, of course, but also because he wasn’t expecting to see anyone else. He thought they would be isolated, and his gut tells him to turn around and run.

He doesn’t.

“Hello?” he starts, and they all turn to him. “I, uh, took your bread out of the oven.”

“Oh shit,” Ariel mumbles. “I forgot I’d put the bread in the oven. Is it burned?”

“No, I think I saved it just in time, love.”

Ariel’s shoulders deflate, and then she’s closing the distance between them, hugging him tightly, before Eric does the same and claps him on his back several times. He’s missed them, and it feels good to be embraced by something other than a heavy blanket. When Eric releases him, Killian can see the woman still standing in the yard, shifting on her feet.

“Hello,” he greets, nodding in her direction.

“Hi,” she nods back.

“Oh, Emma,” Ariel begins, walking over to her and grabbing her arm, “this is my friend, Killian. He’s staying on the island for awhile. Killian, this is Emma. We rent the house to her for most of the year, so we’ve invaded her home this week, I’m afraid.”

“It’s fine,” Emma says. “You guys basically give me the place for free, and I picked up some extra shifts at the club. I’d never be home anyway.”

“What do you do, love?”

“Not your love,” she corrects, and he feels the sting even if he uses the term for many a woman, “and I’m a manager at a little place by the shore, but sometimes during the summer I’ll wait tables at the local country club for extra money. The people will treat you like shit, but at least they tip well since they have no concept of real-life money.”

“What’s the restaurant?” he asks. “Maybe I could eat there.”

Her brows raise, and he gets the feeling she’s not a fan of the idea of him disturbing her at work. He gets the feeling she’s not a fan of him at all. Funny, his first impressions are usually better than this.

“The Blue Dog Tavern.” She points to the logo on her shirt. “I actually have to go there now. I just had to drop by and get my shirt since my boss is coming by today. I’ll stay out of your way when I get home tonight,” she tells Ariel and Eric. “It’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Ariel sighs, smiling at Emma, “we’re the ones disturbing you. I promise, it’ll be a fast week, and then everything can go back to normal.”

Emma nods with a tight smile, and he definitely gets the idea that she isn’t a fan of having Ariel and Eric here. He wouldn’t be either if he had to share his home with his landlords. She walks away into the kitchen, leaving the door open behind her, and Killian makes a note of the restaurant she mentioned, not necessarily to see her but to venture somewhere that isn’t a twenty-four-hour diner.

“Is that why I couldn’t stay here?” Killian asks. “Because you already rent it out?”

“Yep. Plus, it’s not on the beach, and that was your request. This isn’t really to your taste anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, A?”

She shrugs and walks toward the kitchen. “Nothing. I’ve got to finish cooking. I was just about to put the pasta on the stove when Emma came in through the back gate, and I got distracted. Thanks for saving the bread, Jones.”

“Is she okay?” Killian asks Eric.

“Yeah, mate, she’s fine.” He claps his hand onto Killian’s shoulder. “And what she meant by that is that you’re an ex-football player who is hiding from the world and is used to a certain kind of luxury. You’d lose your mind living in this house for months. It’s smaller than a quarter of your flat back home.”

“I would not lose my mind living here. It’s charming.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “You would. I think the giant crab pillow in the living room would be what pushed you over the edge.”

“That thing is still here?”

“It’ll never leave, and I’ve offered to pay Emma to get rid of it many times. I think she throws it out, and it finds its way back inside.”

Killian snickers and settles down on the bench of the dining table they keep outside, letting Eric follow. He feels like he hasn’t talked to another human being in ages, and he’s only been here for a few weeks. “You know her pretty well then? Emma?”

“No,” Eric starts, waving his hand, “no, no, no, no. You cannot go there.”

“What the hell are you on about? I can’t go where?”

“Emma. You can’t go there. She’s not a one-night stand for you. She lives here, takes care of it since we’re gone all the time. You can’t mess that up. Ariel would murder you if you screwed this arrangement up.”

Killian flashes a smile, the ones he’s used to get whatever he wants a million times. There’s an art to being in the public eye, one he figured out only to ruin it all over again, but he still knows the old tricks. Smile, be charming, never let them see any hesitation in your actions. If a question is too invasive or the answer to telling, redirect. It’s all about the redirection. Killian was never one to lie, but he was certainly one to evade, especially toward the end when he couldn’t handle hearing what everyone had to say.

Here, he doesn’t want to admit that Eric might be right about him, but mostly, he’s tired of people controlling his life because they think he can’t make good decisions.

“What?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You think I’m not capable of simply asking about a woman?”

“I think you are, but I don’t want Ariel to have any reason to kill you.”

“Eric,” Ariel yells from the kitchen, stopping Killian before he can speak, “set the table! We can eat in fifteen.”

Saved by the bell. Or the Ariel.

He hates himself a little for rhyming in his head. If this is how he thinks sober, he’s not sure he wants to stay this way.

“And Killian,” Ariel calls, “you can make the lemonade!”

Okay, so maybe he can, if only because Ariel will kill him if he collapses into the pit again, and she won’t be the only one. He’s had a few downfalls into drowning in alcohol since coming here. Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s sadness, who the hell knows? What he does know is that it makes the demons all disappear for the night, sometimes the morning too, but then it all comes roaring back in screaming color.

And with a hell of a screaming headache.

One or two drinks every few days, he reminds himself. That’s what he’s working with, and besides the few slips, he’s been pretty damn successful.

Killian heads inside to help Ariel, though he thinks he hinders her more than helps since he can’t find a damn thing, but eventually they get it all done and eat. Mostly, he has to listen to Ariel give him a briefing on things he has to do over the next few weeks. He has contracts to sign, video interviews and conferences to attend, and they need to happen at certain times. That’s a bit obnoxious, but he can’t complain. He’d be the biggest ass in the world if he did, and he’s certainly already in the running for that title. People still want his face and brand to represent them, and he doesn’t even kick around a ball anymore.

Fools. All of them.

Ariel asks him to stay for dessert, but he’s already eaten too much off his usual diet. Old habits die hard, and he isn’t working out like he used to. Maybe he’ll take up running again soon, but right now, the thought is exhausting. Killian excuses himself from the table, hugging the Fishers goodbye and wishing them goodnight. He’s sure he’ll see them before they return to England and go back to their regular lives. Ariel still has Will and Rob to manage, so she can’t spend all of her time on him. There are other pieces of work out there.

The streets are crowded as Killian drives back to his rental house. Tourists and native islanders alike are out to go to dinner or bars, likely a party or two, and while Killian is tempted to take a turn and go out himself, he doesn’t. He continues along the GPS guide back to his rental house until the garage door is closing behind him.

Day seventeen of being here - now that he knows the date, he’s reminded of when he arrived - is done and dusted, and he cannot wait to close his eyes and go to sleep. He’s been running on fumes all day.

Once inside, Killian quickly showers and puts on a pair of pajama bottoms, collapsing under the covers of his bed as soon as possible. So, of course, that’s when his phone rings.

“It’s bloody half past one in the morning where you are.”

“And only half past eight where you are, so why are you in bed? You look horrible.”

Killian groans and pinches his nose as he props the phone up to get a better look at the screen. “Thanks, Els.”

“No problem.” She flips her blonde braid over her shoulder, and despite the time, she looks as if she could be up and ready for work in minutes. “I was up, couldn’t sleep, and I figured I needed to check on you. I’m sorry I don’t have the girls with me.”

“Did you tell Ally and Sophia I love them?”

“I tell them every day, but I think they’d appreciate it more if they heard it from their actual uncle.”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good,” Elsa sighs. She adjusts herself on her couch, pulling her blanket up higher on her body, and the familiar pang of guilt hits Killian. It happens anytime he talks to just Elsa. The girls act as a buffer, and he feels guilty for using them like that. He feels guilt about a lot of things. “How are you?”

“Good,” he lies. “Really good. I think I’m going to take up real running again soon, maybe finally check out the gym in the basement of this house. What about you, love?”

“I’m okay. Work has kept me really busy, which I like. I have this one house with the biggest garden I’ve ever seen, and designing it has proven to be a bit of a challenge. But I miss spending time with the girls. Anna has been such a big help, though. I love having her here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that’s great.” Killian runs his hand through his hair, yanking at the strands, and sinks a little further into the bed. It’s nice that Anna is around, that she’s been around this entire time while Killian fucked off across western Europe and then eventually to America. Yet again, he’s let someone he loves down because he’s an absolute tosser. “It’s nice to have a family you can count on.”

“Hey, don’t start that again, Killian. I’m not here for self-pity. You’ve had a hard year, and you needed some time away. No one is blaming you for that.”

“I’m not the one who lost my husband, love. I wasn’t left with two little girls with no father.”

Killian tilts his head up so he doesn’t have to see Elsa as water gathers around his eyes. Today was an okay day. Started off rough, but it ended up being alright. Now he’s gone and made Elsa talk about Liam’s death instead of having a normal conversation with her.

“My grief doesn’t negate yours, darling. You lost your brother, who was your best friend, and you lost the career you spent your entire life building. We can both be sad. It’s not a competition.”

Killian blows air out his nose and blinks the forming tears away. “How’d you get so wise?”

“Well, you see, when a child with a head the size of a football comes out of your vagina, you get special emotional intelligence. It’s something to do with all the hormones and pain.”

Killian finally looks down at his phone to see Elsa laughing, and the corners of his mouth twitch. “You make me glad to be a man.”

“You should be glad. You’re at least fifteen steps ahead of every woman in the world. Now, come on, I want to hear about everything you’ve been doing. Have you made any friends?”

“What am I? A lad in reception?”

“No, because my child in reception has many friends.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “Well, I met the loveliest waitress last night. Reminded me of my Gran, and, uh, today I met the woman who lives in Ariel and Eric’s house. Don’t think she was a fan of me.”

“However could a woman resist your charms?”

He laughs, even if he doesn’t appreciate the sarcasm, and this time when he sinks a little deeper into the bed, it’s for comfort and not to hide. When Killian got the news Liam died in a Naval accident, it felt like his world was ending, that the ground was crumbling underneath his feet. He was at the club warming up to head out onto the pitch, and suddenly his sacred place wasn’t so sacred. He couldn’t understand any words leaving Elsa’s voice over the phone. Everything was ringing, and his legs collapsed from underneath him.

He’ll never forget that day. One moment everything in his world was right, and then it wasn’t. and he’ll never get over the fact that Elsa has been the one who has had to continue holding him up when she lost someone too.

“Well, if their names are Ally and Sophia Jones, they are experts at resisting my charms.”

“Unless you give them sweets.”

Killian chuckles. “Those are my good charms.” Elsa smiles and yawns on the other end of the line. “Els, I think you need to go to sleep. I promise to call the girls tomorrow.”

She nods and flips her braid over. “Don’t go breaking your promises to them.”

“Never, love. I’m a man of my word.”

Or, at least, he used to be. His word seems to falter lately, but mostly only his words to himself. Killian looks out the glass doors and windows toward the ocean, watching the water crest much like this morning, but he hopes that tomorrow morning he won’t be standing there with a bottle of beer in his hands.

Maybe he can keep that promise to himself at least.

-/-

-/-

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(You can be added or removed at any time. I don’t know where my list went, so I’ve just taken it from my last story 😘)

[jbarness]

y/n’s nth date

a oneshot

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

about: common room conversations. today's topic: y/n's quite extraordinary dating life.

a/n: so i may be a bit busier than i expected but here's a lil something that's been in my drafts for a while before i post the first chapter of keys. its coming up in a few hours hehe. lol this has a bit of resemblance to one of my other works hihi. if u know, u know 😉. anyways, enjoy!! feedback is highly appreciated!! ♡

❗please DO NOT repost, translate, or copy my works❗

my masterlist

“Ouch! What was that for, Y/N?!”

Tony yelled and Steve gave you his ever famous ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ when you threw a large pillow towards the cuddling couple. They were just sitting there on the floor, not even making a sound, just enjoying each other’s presence so it was pretty weird that you threw a pillow out of the blue.

You shrugged, “Nothin’ much, just felt like it.”

Everyone’s eyes were on you now. It’s not that you were acting weird, throwing stuff is kinda your thing. It’s just that you haven’t talked the whole time you were all in the common room, and you’ve all been there for an hour. You haven’t been talking for one fucking hour because you honestly felt lonely despite being around a room full of people you considered your family.

Most of them had someone. Tony has Steve, Wanda has Vision, Scott has Hope, Nat has Bruce, though he’s not here at the moment.

That leaves you, Sam, and Bucky, the members of the Single Club.

You loved them both dearly, you do, but you wanted a Steve to your Tony. Probably not the best example because of the whole Civil War thing, but they both truly loved each other, everyone could see that.

“You just felt like throwing a throw pillow to Tony and me while we were just sitting here barely talking?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It is a throw pillow,” you said, shrugging once again.

Tony grabbed the pillow and threw it back to you aggressively, "Doesn’t mean you should just throw it out of the blue! Maybe warn us next time?”

Sam laughed, catching the pillow that was about to hit your face, “Don’t mind her, she’s just being bitter.” You smiled at him, "Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, you should try to date then,” Natasha suggested, making you, Bucky, and Sam laugh.

“She kind of gave up on it,” Bucky said and looked at you with a small smirk.

You nodded before drinking from your cup that was on the table, “I always end up in the weirdest places!”

Scott tilted his head, making him look like a confused puppy, “Like where?”

“Uhh..,” you sighed, “Their parents’ basement, a car in the shop, oh and did you forget that one time that I went home covered in blood ‘cause I ended up in a Hydra base?”

Scott nodded with a wrinkled nose, “Yeah, it’s probably safer if you never go on a date again. That basement sounds kinda weird and creepy.”

"Scott, not helping. Y/N, not all guys will bring you to the weirdest places. Believe it or not, some guys are actually pretty great and decent like, uh, Steve here. He’s respectful and kind and caring,” Hope said, completely unaware of the highly offended man beside her.

Tony smirked, “In the bedroom’s a totally different story.”

You laughed at Scott who was now sitting straight, “I’m not just gonna ignore the fact that you used Steve as an example while you’re here cuddling me,” he complained.

"Scott’s okay too, kind of a dumbass, but okay,” Hope said nonchalantly.

Wanda untangled from her lover and leaned forward, “Ooh, maybe who you’re looking for is right in front of you but you may be too bitter to see it,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

You looked at the person who was seating across from you, “Barnes?”

Okay. He’s good looking, you’ve said that a few times to yourself already. You were friends and you were scared because if you two dated, there was no turning back. You worked really hard to be his friend after he came back from Wakanda. When he came to the tower, he always followed Steve wherever he went. He didn’t really trust anyone except for Steve. He eventually talked to the others who teamed up with him and Steve. Unfortunately for you, you teamed up with Tony. So, you only talked to him after almost a year after he moved in.

You remember it as if it was yesterday, you were teasing Sam about… okay maybe you don’t remember the exact details. It doesn’t matter! You were teasing Sam when he walked into the kitchen. You remember making your voice louder for him to hear even though you know he has supersoldier hearing. He laughed at something you said which made both you and Sam look at him. Bucky was smiling at you. It was the first time you saw it, and damn. “Please, continue teasing Sam. It can be exhausting you know? I’m glad to know that there’s someone who can take my place when I’m not there to do it,” he said sipping his coffee.

That was the day you became friends with Bucky Barnes. Aaaaand betrayed Sam Wilson.

“All I’m saying is, look at Tony and Steve. Hope and Scott. Even Vis and I. We all didn’t date first. We were…co-workers or friends first. We didn’t force ourselves to make a good first impression. We didn’t force ourselves to like the other. It just… sorta happened,” Wanda said, looking at Vision lovingly.

"Well said, Wands,” Nat smiled.

Sam clapped, “Yes! Don’t give up on love, my darling Y/N,” he said enthusiastically.

Wanda frowned and tilted her head, “Not my point.”

“What is it, Wilson?” You said, squinting your eyes.

Sam smiled nervously, scratching the side of his head, “Welllllllll, I may have another blind date for you.”

You crossed your arms in front of you, “No.”

“This is the last one!” Sam grabbed ahold of your ankle that was on his lap the whole time. You tried to kick him off, “You said that 10 dates ago!” you yelled finally sitting properly on the couch.

“10?” Steve asked.

Sam kneeled in front of you, pleading, “This one won’t take you somewhere weird!”

You rolled your eyes, “You said that 11 dates ago.”

Nat waved her hands, gesturing us to stop talking, “You’ve had 12 or 13 blind dates and all of them took you to weird places?”

You nodded. Not all of it was bad though, maybe six or seven of them were gentlemen. The rest of them were fun in a childish way. But the places, oh man, you’ve been to places you never thought you’d end up in on a first date.

“Sam, where do you even meet these people?” Scott laughed, massaging his temples.

You saw a confused Vision turn to Wanda, “Sam has friends?”

Sam stood up, “I swear, this is the– Sam has frie- yes I have friends!”

“Look, Sam, I appreciate your effort to find me love but, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to be my wingman anymore,” you smiled sadly, grabbing his hand.

“But that’s my thing!” Sam frowned, stomping his feet. You rolled your eyes, very mature.

Tony smirked, “So the spot’s open?”

Bucky raised his hand excitedly, “I’ll set you up with someone!”

“No offense but, do you know anyone else besides us, Barnes?” Natasha scrunched her eyebrows at the smiling soldier.

He nodded slowly, “Yes, I do… I-I uh go running outside sometimes, you know?”

“Wait. I didn’t mean immediately!” You yelled causing them to laugh. They didn’t know you weren’t joking. Sam gave you a date every week. Every. Single. Week. That was after the third date. The first three dates he gave you? You called them the Thursday, Friday, Saturday incident. Yep, three dates for three consecutive days.

Bucky nodded, reading your face, “No rush, Y/N. I’m just saying, I have someone who you might be interested in.”

Steve laughed, “Do you even know this guy, Buck?”

You noticed Bucky’s scrunched eyebrows and pouted lips turn to narrowed eyes and tight lips as if he was debating himself about something, “Uhhh… Pretty well actually.”

Wanda suddenly gasped and giggled causing everyone to look at her weirdly. “You okay, Wands?” you raised an eyebrow. She nodded, placing her chin in the palm of her hands, “Mhm! Continue!”

Hope cleared her throat, “This guy is not just someone you passed by or something?”

“You should be asking Sam that,” Bucky defended, making Sam roll his eyes.

Bucky looked back at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and that freaking smile that you love so much, “Y/N give me a chance on matchmakin’?”

You hesitated, “I don’t know. You and Sam might be talking about the same guy”

Sam grunted, standing up, and went over to Bucky who whispered in his ear. Sam’s eyes widened, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape, turning to a big smile. “Very very different people, Y/N,” Sam’s smile got bigger and bigger as he went back to sit beside you.

You narrowed your eyes at the guys, “You sure?”

Here’s the thing, you don’t really trust those two idiots. They are not exactly friends, they’re more of frienemies. You three team up with one of you to make fun of the other or just prank the other.

They both nodded, “Absolutely.”

You gave in and sighed, “Okay. Just give me a week without a date please.”

“Sure,” Bucky smiled.

Nat cleared his throat, “So Y/N, tell us about every single guy Sam set you up with,” she wiggled her eyebrows, smirking.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Yeah, this is gonna be a long night.

After the talk about your dating life, the team decided to play some games. These things usually get out of hand as everyone’s competitive, including yourself so you decided to just watch them.

You stood up from your seat to make yourself a popcorn while everyone else grabbed their own snacks. Bucky grabbed a drink from the fridge and stood next to you, watching the popcorn.

“Barnes, tell me all about the guy you’re setting me up with,” you turned to look at him.

He exhaled, “I…hope you’ll like him.”

“That’s it?” You tilted your head, “Come on, tell me more! What’s he like? Where’s he taking me?”

He chuckled, “That’s what the date is for, doll.”

You sighed, “Right, of course.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you while the rest of the team argued about what game they should play next.

“Is it… Sam?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He laughed, “It’s not, unfortunately. Unless you want me to set you up with him?” he smirked.

You shook your head, “Oh no thanks, he’s like a brother to me, you know that.”

Bucky smirked, leaning closer, “What about me, doll? What am I to you?”

The popping sounds saved you from the question, “I better…uh…the popcorn…I–” you said, doing all kinds of hand gestures. He chuckled and went back to the common room.

Damn, you can’t wait for your date with Bucky– your date with the guy Bucky set you up with. Damn it!

“Okay, these jeans or these leggings?” Wanda held up your choices.

You looked at Wanda confused. “If you have to run from your date or something. We both know you don’t like running in a dress.”

“Oh, smart,” you nodded as you chose the jeans.

Wanda was helping you out for your date tonight. She seems excited about it, you thought. You, on the other hand, are not excited at all. Wanda knows that you were debating on whether you should go or not.

This past week was… something. Bucky kept flirting with you. Sometimes you laugh at it or roll your eyes, but most times you found yourself flirting back. Steve always said how Bucky was a ladies man back in the day and now, you could see why. He’s so confident now and he is naturally charming. The weirdest part about this is that after he flirts with you, he brings up the date. And he’s excited about it! It just does not make sense to you at all.

Wanda was brushing your hair when she noticed your ‘thinking face’, “You’re gonna enjoy this I swear, Y/N,” she smiled at you through the mirror.

You nodded, “Yeah...yeah! I’ve just been thinking about...Bucky. He happily volunteered to set me up with someone then he suddenly becomes flirty every single day before the date… I just--I don’t understand,” sighing, you stood up and looked at yourself at a bigger mirror.

“No one really understands Bucky that much except for Steve,” Wanda laughed. She turned you around and checked whatever else you may need. “You’re good to go, honey!”

“Where’s Bucky?” You asked. Wanda smiled, “He’s out, Sam’s taking you to the...place you’re supposed to meet.”

Sam was awfully quiet driving his car. Something is definitely up. It’s been 15 minutes without him talking. He just hums whenever you talk.

“Alright, we’re here. Enjoy!” Sam said after he opened the car door for you. It was your favorite fast food place. Bucky must’ve told the guy that you love the food here.

You checked your messages for the 5th time tonight, ‘he’ll approach you when you enter :)’ Bucky wrote. You exhaled deeply, entering the restaurant.

“Hi, you look beautiful,” a voice from your left spoke up.

You looked over to see, “Bucky? What are you doing here?”

“I’m James, your date for tonight,” he smiled cheekily.

“Are you kidding me?” You raised an eyebrow, keeping yourself from smirking.

He shook his head, giving you the small bouquet of flowers he was holding. Taking your hand, he brought you to the table where you usually sat whenever you’re here with him. You were trying so hard to hide your smile but when you look at the man in front of you who was still smiling cheekily, you gave up and laughed.

“You know, Bucky told me you were cute and boy was he wrong. You’re beautiful, doll,” he said holding your hand that was on the table.

“Oh yeah? Did he also say that he flirted with me for the whole week after telling me that he’s setting me up on a date with you?” You smirked.

Buck-- James shrugged, “I mean, can you blame him? With you looking beautiful all the damn time, I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t make a move on you.”

You laughed, “Okay, okay. I still don’t understand any of this though.”

His flesh hand found its way on your cheek, making you look at his hypnotizing eyes. “I like you. A lot. You’ve always been so fun to be with, doll. You’re witty and sarcastic most of the time but you can be understanding and sweet when you need to be. You’re fierce and powerful. I just can’t get you out of your head ever since we went on that mission with Sam” he chuckled at the memory, “Remember? You took down the HYDRA agents while wearing that awfully large gown. Later on, we heard you singing a Backsync--?”

“Backstreet Boys”

“Backstreet Boys song, while there were screaming and gunshots in the background. You’re really strong and courageous, Y/N. I absolutely adore you.”

“I didn’t take you to be a sappy little shit, James” you smiled teasingly, “Buttttttt, I absolutely adore you too.”

He laughed, "Good to know, doll. But uhh, spoiler alert, you'll end up in a weird place after this date too."

You smirked, "And where's that?"

"In my arms," his cheeky smile found its way back to his lips, "Cause one's metal, the other's flesh. It's weird. Get it?"

[avidreider]

Journals Part 2 ~ bad day (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Journals Series 

Read Part One [flatline]

Based on the song, “Bad Day” by Justin Bieber. 

CW: angst, feelings after a breakup, cursing. 

Key: Y/N = your name, italicized = unspoken thoughts, bold = texts/emails/notes, bold + italicized = song lyrics.

-- I do not own rights to the gif or the song. -- 

---Spencer’s POV---

I dialed Garcia’s number as quickly as my fingers could manage, but I often struggled with the fact that my brain worked so much faster than the rest of my body did. 

“Helloooo Boy Wonder. What can I do for you on this lovely day off?”

“Garcia, can you trace Y/N’s cell?”

“Whoa, is she in danger?” she asked, tone changing drastically. 

“Um, possibly,” I guess that wasn’t a complete lie. 

“Reid. Tell me what’s going on.” 

“I-I can’t.” 

She sighed, “Well then I can’t help you.” 

Well, Morgan knows about our problems, so it won’t be long until everyone else does too, I suppose. I returned her sigh. “Okay, so Y/N and I have been having some issues, and she left. I’m not sure when she left, but I have no clue where she went. Most of her things are gone, the only things she left were things she couldn’t carry on her own. I’ve been trying to reach her but I can’t get through to her. Please help me...” I was hoping she didn’t hear my voice crack on the last sentence. 

“Oh, Reid, I’m so sorry... But I don’t think she wants you to know where she is. You’ll figure this out, I know you will,” and with that, she hung up. 

No I didn't think you would let me Down that easy, oh no girl And I didn't think it was over... Until you walked away like it was nothing, baby.

I didn’t notice I was even crying, until my breath caught in my throat and I heard my sobs. I didn’t realize at the time that I was pushing her away. I knew that things weren’t going particularly well between us recently, but I didn’t think that this would be the result. My phone buzzed and I couldn’t pull it out fast enough. It was a number I didn’t recognize. I answered anyway, hoping that it was Y/N. 

“Hello?”

“Hi Spence, it’s Lila. I was wondering if you wanted to get that coffee tomorrow morning, and maybe brunch too?” 

Shit. Shit. Shit. What am I supposed to tell her? I already told her that we could go, but I really just want to find Y/N and make things right with her. 

“Sorry, Lila, I have to make a call. I’ll get back with you,” I said, and hung up without waiting for her response. 

I dialed Morgan’s number next. 

“Hey Pretty Boy, did you two kiss and make up last night?”

“She left me.” 

He sat in silence on the other line for a long moment, before responding, “What?”

“She left me. When I got home yesterday, she was gone. And I have no idea where she went. Garcia won’t trace her phone.” 

“Oh yes, she will. I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Hang in there, man,” and the line went dead. 

Y/N... Why didn’t you just tell me that you felt neglected? Why didn’t you tell me you were considering leaving me? I would have stopped you. I would have done whatever it took. I still will, just please give me the chance. 

And that moment was so hard for me to breathe,  Cause you took away the biggest part of me,  Life was so unpredictable,  Never thought a love like yours would leave me all alone,  Didn't waste any time But you had already made up your mind No sympathy Cause I was out of line...

Garcia called and notified me that Y/N had blocked my number but she hacked into it and unblocked me, so I took that opportunity and ran with it. 

I called, but she didn’t answer; I left her a voicemail anyway. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry that you felt like your only choice was to leave. Please come home. I love you more than you could ever know. Baby, please just let me explain. I was just so worried that we fell into a routine and I didn’t want to get complacent. When couples get too comfortable in relationships, they tend to end. That’s why nearly half of marriages end in divorce. I didn’t want that to be us. I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I will kiss your feet,” I silently laughed at Morgan’s reference. “I love you. Just come home.” 

I set my phone down, and for the first time since Y/N had been gone, I fell asleep. 

When I woke, I looked at my phone again and saw that I had unread messages in my inbox. 

The first one was from Y/N. 

Spencer, I appreciate you apologizing, but that changes nothing. You neglected me not only for your job, which has always been the norm, but for all these extra commitments that I had no say in. We live together and yet I feel like I don’t know you. Maybe we can talk, but I just need a couple days to think about what’s best for us. 

The next text was from the unsaved number from earlier. 

Hey, it’s Lila again. I’m not sure what I did, or why you were so cold on the phone with me, but I’m sorry. If you don’t want to grab a coffee that’s fine too. Have a good day. 

Coffee actually sounds great right now. I could for sure use it. 

Sure, Lila. How about today, in about 45 minutes? 

Sounds good. I’ll meet you at the cute little coffee shop 2 blocks east of the high school? 

Okay, see you then.

---Y/N’s POV---

 Wow. You were honestly quite happy that Spencer had Garcia hack you so that he could leave that voicemail. But you just weren’t ready to forgive him just that. You were more upset about the emails between him and Lila rather than the fact that you guys didn’t get to spend much time together, but when you were ready to talk to him about it, you would. Your best friend suggested that you both go grab a couple lattes and muffins and talk about how you were going to confront Spencer about your insecurities and come up with a solution to solve your issues. 

You walked into the coffee shop that your best friend loved, and as you did, you thought you were hallucinating. You saw Spencer sitting across from some gorgeous blonde woman. 

“Spencer?” you asked. 

“Y/N? Oh my God, I am so glad to see you! Let me buy you some coffee and we can talk.” 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“What?”

“Are you Lila Everett?” you asked the pretty blonde. 

“Yes, do I know you?” she asked, quite confused. 

“No, but I USED TO BE Spencer’s girlfriend,” you quipped before storming out the door. 

Spencer followed you outside and grabbed your wrist to stop you. 

“Do not touch me Spencer! I have been gone for less than 2 days and you’re already on a date with some woman!” 

“It’s not a date, Y/N!” 

“Wait, I thought that it was a date...” Lila said, apparently offended. 

“Why on Earth would you think it was a date?” Spencer asked, incredulously. 

You took the opportunity to rip your wrists away from him and get in the car with your best friend, who was still able to get the lattes. You weren’t sure when she had ordered, but you were grateful that she had. 

You sipped the hot coffee and savored the sensation of the hot liquid going down your throat. 

Spencer was still trying to reason with Lila that he only saw her as a friend, but that didn’t make you feel any better. JJ was supposedly ‘just his friend’ too, but you had always had a feeling that he wanted something more with her. 

Spencer went home and sulked. He knew there was no way that he was getting you back now, after seeing the hurt in Y/N’s eyes after catching him with Lila. 

But I didn't think you would let me Down that easy, oh no girl. And I didn't think it was over Until you walked away like it was nothing girl... It was a bad day,  I knew I was wrong, but you could've said goodbye baby. It was a bad day, now I'm like woah It was a bad day, it was a bad day.  

[myinconnelly1]

To the Waves

Square Filled: Mermaid AU Ship:  Dean x Reader Rating : General A/N: This is some straight up tooth rotting fluff with minor pining angst.  Also getting a little unusual with out type of mermaid here so bear with me. Warnings: nope Summary: You meet a beautiful stranger on the beach, but he has a huge secret.  Will that keep you from loving him? Word Count: 2,551 Created for @spnaubingo​.

Inspired by this song

“Do you come here often?”  the green-eyed stranger asked as he stood over you.

“What the fuck!?”  You cried as you threw an arm over your bare breasts and rolled onto your stomach.  “What are you doing here?”  You asked thinking that you had been alone.

“I’m here all the time, this is basically my beach,”  He said sitting down and holding a leather suit or coat over his shoulder.  It looked so odd like something a jock with a letterman jacket would do.

“I’ve never seen anyone else here, what are you like a surfer or something?”  You asked reaching out for a towel that was out of reach.

“Yeah, something like that.  I’ve seen you before,”  He chuckled as he simply sat there and watched.

“And you never said anything?!”  You lifted up indignantly then flopped face-first back into the sand as you realized you had exposed yourself again.

“You want some help?”  He asked as he reached over and grabbed your towel for you.  “I’m Dean by the way.”

“Thanks,”  You replied as you covered yourself and gave your name.

“Hey, so I feel pretty bad about this whole thing,”  He rubbed his hand over the back of his head awkwardly.  “Do you wanna get a bite to eat?  I know this little place up the coast.  It a pretty short walk.”

“You want to have lunch with me?”  You asked staring at him.  For the first time, you found yourself stunned by how beautiful he was.  Green eyes, freckles, and beautiful skin.  

“Is that strange?”  He asked.  You were to confused by why he would want to be with you to notice the concern in his voice.  No one ever wanted to go with you anywhere.  You had found yourself awkward in most normal situations, and that seemed to come across to men.

“Um, it’s nothing.  Let me get my shirt on?”  You asked standing and wrapping the towel around you.  To your surprise, Dean didn’t don his coat, simply carried it as he walked.  You were quite surprised by how close the restaurant was to were you had been.  The food was nice, and Dean’s company was very pleasant.  You had a lot in common, which was surprising considering how detached from society you thought of yourself.  He had a younger brother and someone like an uncle that was more like a father.  The relationship didn’t seem to matter too much, more that he was loved by Dean.

Every answer from Dean brought you back to the same conclusion, however.  He was lying about something important.

“Alright, tell me straight.  Are you married?”  You asked as a lull of conversation started, figuring the answer had to be something huge like that.  What else would be the point in hiding it?

“What?”  He asked totally confused by your question.

“Look, you’re amazing, we obviously have a lot in common.  You’re gorgeous beyond all thought, but you’re hiding something.  So are you married?”  You asked again.

“No, I’m not married.  In fact, my dad would probably be pissed if he ever found out I was here,”  Dean seemed to drift into thought.  “You’re right though, I am hiding something.  I just… I just can’t tell you what it is.  Maybe if we were closer I could tell you.  But it’s nothing like another person,”  Dean seemed so sincere it hurt you to want to know the truth about him.  You couldn’t imagine a life where you couldn’t tell your lover everything about yourself or not expect that in return.

“Well listen, Dean.  Lunch was great, but I really can’t be with someone whose not in it, one hundred percent,”  You said solemnly.  

“No, you’re right,”  Dean seemed to hurt from something, and looked down at his plate.  “I shouldn’t have asked you to lunch.  Um, this was really nice and maybe I’ll see you again.”

He stood and left the table instantly, leaving you with your mouth gaping.  He hadn’t even paid for his meal.  You put cash down on the table and left the eatery to go home.  You lived with your father and grandfather, helping to take care of the older man.

“Hey, you were gone a while, everything okay?”  He asked looking at your tired look.

“Yeah, it’s been weird,”  You said before getting a bottle of water.

“Wanna talk about it?”  He asked taking a seat.

“How did you know you loved mom?”  You asked sitting with him and looking out at the water.  Your dad chuckled sadly.

“I’m not really sure.  She just had this way about her.  I got swept up in it.”  He said finally.

“Did you love her?”  You asked realizing what he was saying for the first time in your life.  Your father had barely known your mother.

“Where is all this coming from?”  He asked looking at you.

“Nothing, I met someone today, and he was really great but he has a secret something big, I could tell.  And he couldn’t tell me what it was.  I just don’t think I could be with someone who doesn’t give me all of himself,”  You said taking a drink.

“Maybe their secret is very important to them, but not to a relationship.  So it’s something they don’t share until they are sure they are in it with someone,”  Your father’s suggestion made you blink and you looked over at him.

“Was mom that way?”  You asked.

“I don’t know,”  He answered.  “All I know was there was an important part of her that I could never share.  But I don’t know what it was.”

“If you were in my shoes what would you do?”  You asked him hoping for any advice.  Dean had been on your mind the entire way home and you didn’t want to imagine your life if you hadn’t at least tried to see how things would go with him.

“I think you are all the proof of which choice I would make,”  Your father said as he stood up and kissed you on the top of your head.

The next morning you went back to the same place Dean had met you and you sat there waiting.  You waited and waited for a long time, but eventually, it paid off.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,”  Dean’s voice called quietly.

“I was wrong,”  You said turning to look at him.  He was wet like he had just come out of the water.  The suit he had with him yesterday hanging over his shoulder again.  “I want to know you.  All of you that you will let me see.  If that means knowing you with your big secret then I’ll take it.”

“I was really hoping that would be your answer,”  Dean said as he walked over and brought his lips to yours.  He even tasted like the ocean.

The weeks past in a whirlwind of over the top emotions and become months.  Dean was amazing, though apparently not very creative.  He seemed to spend most of his time at the beach and the two of you never went anywhere where you were standing on or near the sand.  It was kinda cute but kept your dates pretty consistent.  The two of you were becoming very close, everything seemed to fit perfectly.  

Then he didn’t show up.  He wasn’t at your normal meet up location and you had no way of contacting him other than seeing him there or leaving him a note.  It continued on, day after day that he didn’t show up.  It had all been too good to be true.  You went into your room and hid for nearly three days.  Hunger finally drove you out of your grief and you decided to go to the diner that Dean had taken you too.

“I’m sorry,”  Dean said as he stood at your table.  You looked at him unable to believe your eyes.  He was here, and alright.

“Dean?”  You asked staring at him.  “I thought you were hurt, or… or something.  That you left me.”

“I know and I can’t make up for what happened.  But, please I didn’t want to leave you,”  He said his green eyes pleading.

“Are you a spy? Or in witness protection or something?”  You asked as he sat down across from you.  “You don’t have a phone, you always meet me in the same place, you go missing for a week then mysteriously show back up.  What is going on?”

“I need to tell you my secret,”  He said reaching out and taking your hands.  “I’m not a spy or in witness protection.  I’m not even human.”

“What?” You asked laughing in disbelief.  “What do you mean-”

“I’m a selkie.  A seal-kin.”  Dean said quietly as he looked into your eyes.

“Are you- are you serious?”  You asked him after realizing he was joking around.  “You go missing for a week and you come back with some fairy tale?”

“Please, it’s the truth.  My father didn’t want me to come up here, on land.   It’s not safe.  I thought Bobby would help me, but my dad found out anyway.  He forbid me from coming back, from seeing you.  But-  But I love you,”  He said finally as he squeezed your hands.

“You love me?”  You asked.  Sharp spears of anger pierced your heart.  He claimed to love you but was lying to your face.  You couldn’t stay here another minute.  You let go of his hands and stormed out of the diner as Dean called your name.

“Hey, watch it,” Your grandfather said as you plowed into your home and almost ran into him.

“I’m sorry, GranDa,”  You said, helping him to his chair.

“What was your rush little one?”  He asked tracing your cheek gently.

“I thought I knew someone and I was wrong,”  You said bitterly.

“It’s impossible to know someone other than yourself, and even that is hard,”  He said.  He always had cryptic yet insightful things to say when you needed to hear them the most.

“He disappeared then had the nerve to lie to me.  He told me he was something straight out of a fairy tale,”  You bit your lip to keep from crying.

“Fairy tales have to have a starting point.  Are you sure he was lying?”  Your grandfather said.  You knew your grandfather’s heritage and he had always been one to hold onto childhood stories.

“GranDa, he said he was a selkie,”  You said sniffling.  Your grandfather stared at you.  The first time in years his eyes had been as clear as they were.  “What?”  You asked.

“A seal-kin?”  He asked.

“GranDa please, don’t tell me you think they are real,”  You whined.

“I know their real,”  He said quietly.

“What?”  You stopped almost unable to breathe.

“My father lived in Scotland, near the Orkney Isles.  He married a woman of low birth, who had no family and no money to speak of.  But she was the most beautiful creature that anyone in his town had seen.  She would never speak of her family or her home to anyone.  And my father never left the Orkney coast,”  He finished quietly.

“So you think your mother was a seal-kin?”  you asked in disbelief.  You knew your grandfather was getting old, but you had never thought of him as senile.

“Your mother too.  I assume your father never told you their story,”  He said fishing.

“He told me it was a whirlwind.  I always thought she didn’t want me.  You think she left because she had to go back to the sea?”  You asked looking out the window to the water that your father refused to move away from.

“I have one last thing,”  He said standing up.  “Do you like this man?”  He asked as you helped him to his room.

“He said he loved me,”  You echoed Dean’s words.  If he had been telling the truth that he loved you and that he was a selkie could you have hurt him?  The thought hurt you more than you expected.

“Love is fickle, like the sea,”  He said as he rummaged around in his chest.  My mother had this, and my father gave it to me after she died.  I never really knew why.

Your grandfather handed you a silky soft brown wetsuit.  At least that’s what it resembled.  Some parts weren’t right.  But with an unnerving gasp, you realized it looked like the jacket that Dean always had but never wore.

“My father said if my mother had ever known about her skin she probably would have left us, drawn to the sea no matter how much she loved us.”  Tears fell down your face as you looked at the seal skin your grandfather had produced.

“He was telling the truth,”  you whispered.

“If you love him, it’s not too late,”  your grandfather said, lifting your chin so you would look at him.  “The legends all say that the wearer of a seal skin could become a Selkie.  You man may not be able to live here, the men of that kind can’t leave the sea,”  all the dates with Dean on the beach hit you like a sucker punch.  “But you could go with him.”

Your eyes widened at your grandfather’s words.  You could leave your family and go to the sea with Dean.  It felt sudden.  But you knew this was the only chance you would get if you were to live with him.  And you knew in your heart that you had fallen in love with him.

“Will you tell Dad?”  you asked.  “Do you think he will understand?”

“He still loves your mother and she left him for the sea.  I think he will understand,” your grandfather said kissing your cheek.  “Hurry before the sun goes down.”

You ran out of the house with the sealskin to the diner where you had left Dean.

“You just missed him,”  The waitress said when she saw you.  You darted out of the building and down to where you had met Dean.

“DEAN!”  You cried as you rushed to the waves.  “Dean!”  Were you too late?  Had he left without you after you had rebuked his claims?

“I’m here, what are you doing?”  He asked taking in your desperate look.

“I’m sorry,”  You cried as you flung your arms around him.  “I believe you and I’m sorry.  You tried to tell me the truth and I wouldn’t believe you,”  You kissed him deeply.

“I shouldn’t have sprung it on you.  You couldn’t be expected to believe,”  He finally saw the coat in your hand.  “Where did you get that?”

“It was my great grandmother’s,”  You said showing it to him.  “It’s like yours, right?  My GranDa says if I wear it, I could go with you.  If you wanted me to come with you,”  You said the last part doubtfully.  You had rushed here without thinking about him not wanting you anymore.

“I love you,”  Dean said holding your arms.

“I love you too,”  You said without hesitating.

“Come away with me,”  He said kissing you again.  He pulled his coat on and showed you how to pull it over yourself and the two of you walked out into the waves.

@waywardbaby​ @destielhoneybee​ @snffbeebee​ @deangirl7695​ @spnbaby-67​ @maddiepants​ @ladywinchester1967​ @woodworthti666​ @miraclesoflove​ @tumbler-tidbits​​ @emilyshurley​​ @akshi8278​​ @mannls​​ @wendibird​​ @bobasheebaby​​ @flamencodiva​​ @theoneandonlymelol​​ @chelsea072498​​ @donnaintx​​ @justsomedreaming​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @kalesrebellion​​ @prettydeaneyes​​ @emoryhemsworth​ @laphirablack​ @dontshootmespence​ @its-a-spn-thing​ @vicmc624​ @idreamofplaid​​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​

[here4theheartbreak]

Spring Fever (MinJoon)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: minjoon (Jimin x Namjoon) ✩ Genre(s): fluff

✩ Rating: General ✩ Tags: fluff, getting together, self confidence issues

✩ Summary: Spring fever is a real thing, and Jimin is really sick of it.

✩ A/N: Written for @chimknj​ for the drabble requests, prompt #14: Vernorexia (romantic mood inspired by spring - lit. spring fever)

✩ Word Count: ~2.6k

“Did you hear that Hoseok and Yoongi started dating yesterday?” Taehyung asked, tossing the magazine he’d been skimming onto the floor. He flopped onto his back, letting his head hang over the edge of the bed.

Jimin rolled his eyes from his spot on the floor, back against his dresser. “Fucking shocker. They’ve been eye fucking for two months.”

Taehyung scowled. “What crawled up your ass? I thought you’d be happy for them.”

Jimin sighed, closing his eyes. “I am. I’m just… I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I am. They’re a cute couple. Go right along well with you and Jin.”

Taehyung’s scowl shifted to a pout. He crawled off the bed and over to Jimin, sitting next to him. “Are you jealous of Jin, Jiminie? Because you know you don’t have to be. You’re my best friend.”

“’M not jealous of Jin.” He muttered. “Not like that.”

“But you are? Kinda then?”

“And of you. And Hobi, and Yoongi. And every other fucking person suddenly coming up with a lover.” Jimin wrapped his arms around his knees, putting his chin on them. “It’s stupid. I hate this stupid season with the dumb flowers and the long days and the picnics.” He made a small ‘hmph’ noise and sunk his face into his arms.

“Ahh,” Taehyung said with a soft understanding. “Jimin… You don’t have to be lonely.”

“Easy for you to say.” He looked up at Taehyung. “You and Jin have only been dating for a month and it’s pretty fucking clear you’re soulmates. He chose you even though he got teased for liking someone so much younger. He is head over heels for you, and I’m sure Yoongi’s gonna be the same with Hobi. Nobody wants me. I’m just the ugly, angry little person tagging along with the beautiful ones.”

“Hey!” Taehyung snapped, and Jimin startled, looking at him.

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because you shouldn’t talk about yourself like that. You’re beautiful Jimin. Your dancing is phenomenal and you’re so clever and caring. You’re a great listener and you defend your friends with your whole heart. You get angry but it’s usually for good reason. Just because you have a temper doesn’t mean you’re unworthy of love. And you aren’t tagging along with us. I resent that. You’re just as much a part of our friend group as everyone else.”

Jimin lowered his gaze again. “I’m normally not bugged by this, you know? It just feels like lately… Even Taemin is talking about that girl he’s into. Everybody is finding their love and I’m still sitting here alone.”

“It’s Spring,” Taehyung shrugged as he spoke, “romance is in the air, that kind of crap… But you aren’t helpless, Jimin. If you want a lover, why not go out and find them? I know you like someone.”

“He doesn’t like me like that, you know it.”

“Have you ever asked?”

“Namjoon is way too good for me,” Jimin argued. This wasn’t a new argument; he’d been in love with their mutual friend for nearly a year now. And every time Taehyung brought up asking him out, the excuses flowed like water from Jimin’s pretty lips.

“Namjoon is an idiot who trips over air and burns water,” Taehyung argued.

“Don’t talk about him like that. He’s smarter than you,” Jimin grumped, and Taehyung smirked.

“You’re so so head over heels for him and you can’t see it. You can’t see him either. I swear, Jimin… They say people can’t see the forest for the trees, but you’re opposite. You’re too busy staring at the whole damn forest and the storm clouds moving in another direction to notice the beauty of the redwood right in front of you.” He sighed. “And it is one… Beautiful specimen. Tall and broad and just….”

“Dude, you have a boyfriend,” Jimin said. Taehyung grinned.

“And even with one of those I can appreciate the aesthetic appeal of a gorgeous young redwood in a forest of box elders.”

“Would you stop comparing Namjoon to a fucking tree?!” Jimin cried, laughing at the absurdity of it.

Taehyung pouted innocently. “Namjoon. Namu. I see no difference. And you don’t see the reality in front of you.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? The redwood’s gonna fall for the boab tree?”

“Well, considering those two species don’t even exist in the same place, no. But the redwood might appreciate the beautiful foxglove growing around the base of his trunk. Deadly and stunning… But worth admiring, if you’d just give them a chance.” Taehyung reached out and stroked Jimin’s cheek. “You look down on yourself so much, Jimin. But you’re so worth it. If you’d just give yourself a chance… And if you’d give Namjoon a chance.”

Jimin shook his head, opting to stay silent. He knew he’d lose any argument about this with Taehyung; it wasn’t worth fighting it. Taehyung sighed. He elbowed Jimin lightly.

“Wanna play a game?”

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin agreed, relieved he dropped the subject. But even as they sat on the bed and bickered over who was taking the most loot in their video game, the chipper chirping of the birds outside, and the cool breeze wafting in the scent of plum and cherry blossoms left an ache of lonely longing in Jimin’s heart.

***

‘Do you wanna go hiking with me today?’

Jimin chewed his lip, staring at the text. It was innocuous; not like Namjoon had never invited him places before. They were friends. But it felt so different. Probably something to do with the discussion he and Taehyung had had only a few days before, and the incessant feeling that Jimin was being slapped in the face with others’ happiness. He considered declining, if only to save himself the heartache when the inevitable happy, sappy couple would come by them on the hiking trail. But the opportunity to hang out with Namjoon was – as always – too damn good to pass up. He loved spending time with Namjoon, especially out in nature. Namjoon loved nature, and Jimin loved seeing it.

‘Sure – what time?’ He responded back.

The two texted back and forth for a few minutes, deciding the logistics of their planned outing, before Jimin rose to dress. It was something casual, just between friends. Just a regular old hike. He didn’t need his nice shorts or his cute t-shirt. He didn’t need to wear his good cologne or apply just a little gloss to his pouty lips… He didn’t need to, but he did anyway.

Unfortunately for Jimin, all the nice dressing in the world couldn’t prevent the ache that formed as soon as he met up with Namjoon and began to walk along the quiet trail. Everywhere he looked, it seemed, were lovers, cuddling on park benches or stopped under trees as they shared quiet kisses. Laughter and shouts of joy added to the storm clouds in Jimin’s mind. It only took the constantly thoughtful Namjoon fifteen minutes to pull Jimin off the path.

“What’s the matter?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Yeah, there is. You’ve barely done more than grunt at me.” Namjoon scowled. “If you didn’t want to come, you didn’t have to say yes.”

Panic bubbled up in Jimin’s chest. “No, no,” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I do. I did, I want to be here. I like doing this with you.”

“Then why are you such a grouch?”

Jimin shrugged, lowering his gaze. “It’s stupid. I’ll work on it.” He offered a bright smile, hoping it was convincing. “Look over there, that plum blossom tree. Let me take a picture of you in front of it.” His smile wavered when a young couple holding hands approached the tree he was pointing at, taking a selfie by it.

Namjoon looked over then back at Jimin, his brows losing their knit as his entire expression softened. He looked back to the couple.

“They look happy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimin muttered, looking anywhere but at the couple. “Come on, I’m sure there’ll be a nice tree I can get a picture of you with up ahead.”

He started walking, entirely aware that it was now Namjoon being sullen and silent next to him. They turned down another path, filled with a variety of blossoming trees, and Jimin’s eyes welled with unexpected tears. He blinked them away, trying to keep his face from Namjoon. He didn’t exactly know why he was crying. The scent of the trees, the overwhelming urge just to grab Namjoon’s hand, the peace… It was too much.

“Jimin, can I confess something?” Namjoon whispered, his voice just audible over the wind through the branches.

“Of course,” Jimin’s voice was soft as well, trying not to show he’d been struggling against tears.

“I’m lonely.”

Namjoon’s confession fell like a brick in Jimin’s stomach. He looked over at Namjoon, who smiled weakly. “Hoseok and Yoongi got together, you know?”

Jimin nodded. “And Tae and Jin.”

“And Jungkook’s been flirting with Eunwoo… Hobi thinks they’re gonna start dating soon.”

“Yeah.” Jimin looked back down, not sure what to say. They walked in silence a little longer before Namjoon spoke again.

“Do you know why everyone gets together in the spring?”

“No.”

“It’s a phenomenon they call Vernorexia. Spring fever. Something about the melting of the snow and blooming of the flowers and trees that just puts everyone in a lovey mood. It’s also why some people get so grumpy despite the increase in Vitamin D.”

Jimin chuckled. “I get it.”

“I guess it’s nice. Everyone getting together,” Namjoon said, looking around. He sighed. “Just kinda empty feeling… Being alone during it all.” He looked over at Jimin, smiling sadly. “I’m kind of tired of being alone, Jimin.”

“Me too,” Jimin said. “I heard Ashley is single, she likes you.”

“You know I’m not into girls.”

“I don’t know any single guys you’d want, sorry.”

“I do,” Namjoon said. He grabbed Jimin’s wrist, stopping them on the path. Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat. Namjoon was so close… Before he could really process what was happening, Namjoon went forward, his eyes closing. Jimin’s eyes widened. Not him, it couldn’t be him. Instinctively, he pushed him back, and Namjoon nearly fell, righting himself.

He looked at Jimin with a shocked gaze. “Oh God, did I misunderstand?”

“What?” Jimin asked, his breath coming quickly. Namjoon had almost kissed him.

“I thought…” Namjoon shook his head. “God, I’m a fool. I’m so sorry, I’d never invade your space like that. I thought you liked me, I—Taehyung mentioned it in passing and I—I’ve had a crush on you forever but I never thought it’d work so I…” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks pinking up adorably. “I’m so sorry, I probably freaked you out trying to kiss you like that. I’m not a creep, I promise.”

Jimin shook his head. He waved his hands, trying to get Namjoon to stop panic rambling. He finally grabbed his upper arms. “You like me?”

Namjoon’s body sagged a little. “Is that so disturbing? I ruined our friendship, didn’t I? I know I’m not much. You’re so talented and beautiful and you’re definitely going to be a star. I’m… I’m just Namjoon.”

Jimin gaped, Namjoon’s words settling like a punch to his stomach, painful and deep. “I’ve been in love with you for a year, Namjoon,” he whispered.

Namjoon looked up. “Then why—Why did you push me away just now?”

“Because you don’t want someone like me. I’m ugly and short and awkward and kinda dumb. I get angry at the stupidest things and I’m not near as slender or muscular as Tae or Jin, even as a dancer Hobi has me beat—”

“You are kind of dumb,” Namjoon agreed. Jimin blinked, surprised.

Namjoon smiled, reaching for Jimin. He stroked his face. “You’re dumb if you think any of those things are true. Or those that are, if you think they matter… You are short and you do have a temper… But they don’t matter to me. For months I’ve dreamed of dating you, holding your hand, kissing you, and… More.” Namjoon smiled weakly. “It’s gotten worse with springtime. I feel like there’s this constant stupid emptiness in my guts and I am so, so angry at all the happy couples. I just want to reach out and grab someone… You and tell you how I feel. That’s what today was about. When Tae mentioned you maybe liking me, I figured now was the time to take my shot, even though I thought I wouldn’t ever be enough for you.”

Jimin’s heart was pounding so loud he worried Namjoon could hear it. He flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s neck in a painfully tight hug. “You’re more than enough, Namjoon,” Jimin whispered. “You’re my redwood.”

Namjoon laughed, hugging Jimin back. “Your redwood?” He asked, putting his mouth against Jimin’s shoulder. His breath was warm, drawing goosebumps over Jimin’s arms.

“Mhm. Tall and lean and strong… Always someone that will support me when I’m weak. Someone who can last forever. Tae mentioned it and I—He was right.”

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon rubbed his hands lightly over Jimin’s back. “And what did our Taehyung liken my sweet Minie to?”

Jimin’s breath caught when Namjoon called him sweet. He called him sweet. And his.

“Foxglove,” Jimin whispered.

“Bright and beautiful, but deadly if you don’t handle with care,” Namjoon confirmed. Jimin nodded. He felt Namjoon pulling away and squeezed tighter, not wanting to let go. He did though, and Namjoon smiled down at him. “I’ve always found foxglove to be a beautiful flower. Something to be handled delicately and appreciated for its brightness… But respected.” Namjoon curled his fingers under Jimin’s chin, tilting his head up a little. “I want to kiss you, Jimin. Is that okay?”

Jimin nodded. “Yes. If… If you promise me something first.”

“What?”

“That you won’t go away once the spring rains stop.”

Namjoon smiled wider, shaking his head. “I’ll be around much longer than that, I promise you. As long as you’ll have me, Minie.”

He closed the space between their lips, and this time Jimin didn’t jerk away. He leaned forward, meeting Namjoon’s mouth. As they kissed, he draped his arms over Namjoon’s shoulders, pressing against him. He was kissing Namjoon. Really kissing him. His mouth was soft and tasted faintly of mint. Jimin tried not to grin when the kiss deepened naturally, their tongues brushing together.

When they separated, Jimin brushed his nose against Namjoon’s. “You’re not alone anymore.”

“Neither are you,” Namjoon whispered.

“Do you want to go out tonight? A real date?”

Namjoon nodded. He straightened up, shifting over as another couple passed them. He smirked a little, looking at Jimin.

“Still make you grumpy?”

“Not even a little,” Jimin said, barely glancing at the couple. He couldn’t take his eyes off Namjoon. “I’ve got exactly what I need.”

Namjoon took his hand, twining their fingers as they began to walk again.

The sweet scent of the blossoms no longer twisted Jimin’s stomach into a ball of frustration, and the laughter of other couples was no longer grating to his ears. Now he could see the colors, the breeze was comforting and the scent of the blossoms brightened his mood further. Namjoon’s hand fit his perfectly, and the two walked in a comfortable silence as they looked for a good spot to eat the lunch Namjoon had packed.

Vernorexia, Namjoon had called it. Spring fever. Whatever it was, Jimin had found his cure. It was in the form of his beautiful, smart redwood of a man, and it was the best medicine he’d ever had.

[gio-is-writing]

Hello Welcome! Keep up the good work. Can I get a scenario of Okuyasu going on a first date with his senpai? ( maybe even a lil spying from Josuke and Koichi owo) Female pronouns are fine.

REQUEST: Hello Welcome! Keep up the good work. Can I get a scenario of Okuyasu going on a first date with his senpai? ( maybe even a lil spying from Josuke and Koichi owo) Female pronouns are fine.

i’m so happy I got to write for Okuyasu i LOVE HIM, i hope you enjoy it!

PAIRING: Okuyasu Nijimura x fem! Reader

Warnings: one swear word right at the start lol

FIRST DATE

“But what if I fuck up Josuke?” said teenager rolled his eyes placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder

“It can’t be that bad Okuyasu, she’s only a year older than you!”

Poor Okuyasu. He was a nerve wreck, after almost passing out from asking his crush out on a date and receiving a yes as an answer. That was just yesterday, today was the day he would hang out alone with a girl for the first time, no Josuke or Koichi to help him out. He had invited (Y/N) on a date in the park for eating lunch together.

Just him and (Y/N).

“Don’t be nervous Okuyasu” Koichi cheered “I’m sure it’ll be alright!”

“Where will you two meet?” Josuke asked sipping from his soda

“Emm... we’re meeting at the school gate and walk from there” Josuke and Koichi looked at each other smiling and nodded.

The day was rather uneventful or at least it seemed like that to Okuyasu who kept thinking of what was ahead for him. His eyes kept focusing on the gate out the window and the ticking of the clock.

Just as the bell rang the class emptied leaving only the three friends behind.

“Well...” the silver haired said “go on then!”

Okuyasu nodded in a second grabbing his briefcase and rushing to the gate, the last thing he wanted was to keep her waiting.

Standing by the gate was (Y/N) looking completely gorgeous in just her normal uniform, waving at her friends as they walked past. Looking back into the school he noticed Okuyasu rushing to her with a worried expression.

“Oh hey Okuyasu!” she smiled brightly

“H-hey (Y/N)-san!” almost out of breath he answered standing beside her now “D-did you wait long?”

“Not at all, I just got here”

The teenager couldn’t help but relax at her smiling form, maybe his nerves were over nothing and they could have a great time today.

“Maybe we should hurry before those sandwiches dissapear!”

As they walked along the sidewalk to the bakery, Josuke and Koichi followed a few meters back. As (Y/N) laughed at whatever Okuyasu just said, Josuke smiled proudly.

“See, I told you Okuyasu would be just fine!” he beamed at his other friend

“I never said he wouldn’t ?” Koichi rolled his eyes

—

“Mm... this sandwiches really are good” (Y/N) closed her eyes after biting another piece of her lunch

“They are the best!” and just as she did he followed by getting at his

They both seated on a bench covered by a huge tree, protecting them from the afternoon sun.

“Thank you so much for inviting me for lunch Okuyasu”

The teenager was suddenly taken aback by the comment, she was thankful that he invited her? Okuyasu looked at her with wide eyes and almost choked on his food.

“I- It’s my p-pleasure (Y/N)-san”

“Oh please Okuyasu, just call me (Y/N)”

“But..”

“What is a year anyway?”

(Y/N) was so easygoing and that’s what kept Okuyasu falling for her right in the spot. She smiled widely at him and looked at the park ahead of them.

“O-okay... (Y/N)”

People were walking around, some kids were yelling and running around the playground while some other students walked past to get home or to have some fun elsewhere. The silence wasn’t awkward at all, if anything Okuyasu felt at ease just being alone with her.

As they continued on with a light conversation about their school assignments, two pairs of eyes watched closely from a the tree behind them.

“Lucky Okuyasu” Josuke sighted “he got such a pretty senpai on a date”

“She’s friends with Yukako” the shortest added “maybe she could introduce you to some other friend”

“meh” the tallest shook his head looking back at the bench

—

Walking back home was interesting, while they walked Okuyasu offered on carrying her own briefcase but was greeted with a “no thank you, but you can carry my hand if you’d like”

A blushing mess he wasted no time in grabbing her hand and walking closer to her as she giggled. Morioh was a quite the little town, most things were close to one’s house and at walking distance but Okuyasu never knew (Y/N) lived just a few blocks from his own house.

“I really enjoy my time with you Okuyasu” standing at her front door she looked back at him with a blush

“Maybe we could do this another time” the male suggested in a sudden rush of bravery that was replaced by doubt in a second “if y-you’d like of course”

“I would love to!”

[malfoys-demigod]

How Did I Fail to Notice You - Tim Drake x Reader

Summary: Tim fails to notice his classmate, Y/N until he meets her in one of Bruce’s galas, discovering that her family are rich socialites who are good friends and associates of Bruce at WE. He develops feelings on her after seeing her there and realizes he’s in love when he invites her over to work on their pair work. 

A/N: I got some HCs from somebody’s work. I just forgot who but I’d like to thank them for it.  Found it. Thank you @/77uchiha77 for your idea. It’s based on their work “Crushes - BatBoys Headcanons”. Go check it out, it’s great. :)

Tim came home from another boring day in Gotham Academy and was greeted by his brother Dick. 

“Long day, Timbo?” 

“Mhm.”

“Well the day’s gonna get longer. Bruce has a gala tonight so it’s either you take a nap right now or finish as much schoolwork you can do before the event.”

Tim groaned as he didn’t want to attend the gala. He had so much to do since he failed to complete last night’s assignments since it was his night to patrol around the city. 

Tim decided to finish yesterday’s and today’s work as he was eager to have a good night’s sleep after the gala. After finishing his work, he dressed up, and went downstairs to meet his brothers. 

“Someone managed to finish his monsterous load of assignments and still look dapper in his black silk suit.” Dick teased. 

“Maybe he’s hoping to meet a hot chick wearing a silk like him.” Jason said. 

“Tt. Drake’s too drained to speak to a girl.” Damian scoffed. 

Tim didn’t listen to his brothers, maybe only Dick. He was surprsied to have finished his work and appear dappper but he doubted he’d find anyone amusing in the gala. Most of the girls are either airheads, gold diggers, or anyone who’d want to date one of Bruce’s sons for the fame and attention. 

--

It had been only an hour and already, the boys were bored out of their minds. It was not until Tim spotted a family who arrived late to the gala. He saw a familar face in their family. A girl around his age, who wore a black silk maxi dress, hair down, and light make up. You were beautiful. He saw you going to the bar so he stood up and followed.

As you sat down at the bar, you heard a familar voice behind you. 

“May I buy you a drink?” Tim smiled

“I’d love that but I just came to sit here. I don’t really go for alcoholic drinks, but thanks for the offer, Tim.” 

The way you said his name confused him. It sounded like she knew me, based on the way she said my name. He thought

“I don’t want to sound rude, but it seems like you know me. Like, in a way where I’m supposed to know you as well.” He said, hoping that he was right. 

All you did was chuckle, obviously knowing that Tim wouldn’t have recognized you. He barely had friends in GA because all he could focus on was academics and nothing/nobody else. 

“I’m glad you actually thought I looked familiar. I always thought that you were so focused in school that you didn’t bother to remember anyone’s name or face.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” you offered your hand as he shook it. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I-I’m sorry I never noticed you. I just-” 

“Love being the star student and aspiring valedictorian of our class?” you interrupted. 

“Exactly.” Tim laughed. 

The night was going great as Tim made a friend, someone he started falling for. He regrets not formally introducing himself in school because he discovered how much the both of you had in common. He was actually feeling happy which has been rare of him to feel these days with school and being Robin became harder to juggle and manage. He also found out that you were the “number two” rival he was competing against in every test. Sometimes you’d have the higher test score than him and he wouldn’t even bother catching your name, all he’d do was catching a glimpse of your test score outside the classroom when posted and rush back home to study for the next upcoming one, hoping he’d take your number one rank again. 

As the gala ended, you said goodbye to her, hoping he’d see you around school this time. 

Your absense in the “Wayne Table” which consisted of the bored brothers was obviously noticed. When you left, the batboys walked up to Tim. 

“Knew he’d find a chick with a silk dress tonight.” Jason chuckled. 

“Care to tell who that gorgeous girl was?” Dick smirked. 

“Apparently she’s my classmate whom I failed to notice.” 

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. Her family are socialites and associates of mine at work. She’s a smart girl.” Bruce said. 

--

Now that he remembers what you look like, he started noticing you more in school. How you recite all the time in class, how you laugh, who your friends are, the way they make you laugh, and everything else. This made Tim fall for you. Every time you got the chance to talk to him, he’d get clammy hands, he’d get nervous around you, he’d laugh more than he needed to when you make a joke, he’d want to cry in the corner afterwards when he gets all awkward, he’d cruse when he sees you (mutters “fuck, fuck, fuck”), and researches and takes quizzes on how to know if your crush likes you back. 

--

What made him fall in love with you was when you were paired to do a pairwork. 

As the last class of the day was about to end, your teacher made an announcement. 

“So class, you’ve been waiting for the big project haven’t you? Well, I wanted to make things easier and fun for everyone and decided to group you into twos.”

Tim wasn’t paying attention to any bit of the announcement as he was staring at you the entire time. He was constantly daydreaming about you with big heat eyes. 

“Mr. Drake?” the teacher kept calling. 

Tim didn’t hear a single thing but did see you turn around with a concerning look which made you snap back to reality. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“If you didn’t process it, I was saying that you’ll be paired with Ms. Y/L/N for the project. Got that?” 

“Yes, sir.”

When class ended, Tim got the courage to go up to you. He took a deep breath and poked your back. You turned around with a big smile which made him blush. 

“Were you okay back there? It seemed like you weren’t paying attention and normally you’d do so what happened?” you said. 

“Oh, uhm, I’m alright. I was just sleepy. Anyways, I was hoping we’d start working on this as soon as today. If you’re free, I’d like to bring you to my house and we can start working on thing already.” 

“I’d love to, Tim!” 

--

You were greeted by Tim’s brothers and Bruce as you entered the Manor. You didn’t see but as you walked up to Tim’s room, the batboys were silently teasing Tim in the back whispering, ‘Tim’s got a girl!’ 

The both of you worked so hard that night that Tim kept asking Alfred for glasses of coffee every hour till you fell asleep on the desk. Tim closed the door with mugs of coffee in his hand. He was about to ask if you needed more till he saw you sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help but stare at how you were perfect. He was so happy to have you in his life. 

A/N: I’m sorry if this was a bit crappy. My fingers are tired and it’s getting late. I hope you kinda enjoyed it. Comments would be appreciated!

[shuahoonie]

you. [tom holland] - five.

PAIRING: tom holland x female!celebrity!reader

SUMMARY: ah, to be young and in love. it sounds great if only you and tom were actually dating out of pure love and not for the sheer reputation of your careers. it also should be great if you two actually got along, but life isn’t that easy.

WARNINGS: mostly swearing! sexual innuendos are present kids! a bit of fluff, a bit of angst. it’s haters to lovers / fake dating au so take that information as you wish! this is definitely a filler chapter tho. 

WORD COUNT: 3761 words

SONG INSPO: hard times - paramore

A/N: hiya babes! sorry if i skipped a two weeks-worth of an update, got caught up from uni & my part-time job. been writing for uni a lot, and ngl yall kinda wanna cry! anyways, the amount of love i’ve received for this series is wild you guys!!! thank you so much for the kind words! i know i suck at replying but please know that i really appreciate it you guys and y’all make me feel soft and so loved 🥺 sorry again for the late update, hope this makes up for it!! enjoy part five & happy reading x 🥰💛

UPDATES EVERY SATURDAY 11 PM CST 

gif credits: @thwip

vanessa’s masterlist | one | two | three | four | six | seven | eight | eight.5 [interview excerpt] 

You woke up by the sun beaming on your face. Already dreading the day, you pulled the covers over your head and buried yourself in the pile of pillows that were taking up most of the space on your bed. God, you were exhausted from yesterday. 

See, yesterday- yesterday was a blur. Everything happened so fast. You and Tom were trending on Twitter for god-knows how many hours. Headlines about you two dating were plastered everywhere. 

It made you roll your eyes. Do people care that much? And they do. People cared a lot about you two. People said that you two look great together, while a handful said you were in it for the clout. Technically, we both are. 

So, now that you got the people’s attention, what’s next? 

Well, for starters, they started tracking yours and Tom’s relationship from where and how it started. They wouldn’t find anything because you two aren’t really dating in the first place. 

However, they did compilations of possible hints that you two were dating-or maybe was just getting to know each other. Luckily for you two, you followed each other on Instagram for quite a while now so you got that foundation to build up. 

You liked some of his photos before, as did he. You actually found Tom quite adorable back then. The first time you saw him was when you saw Captain America: Civil War with your friends. You and your friends bonded over watching Marvel movies and once you saw Tom Holland as Peter Parker on screen, it was safe to say that you weren’t just crushing on Sebastian Stan anymore. 

However, you did convince yourself that nothing trumps over your crush on Sebastian Stan. You also convinced yourself that you were crushing on Peter Parker-not Tom Holland. Peter Parker was sweet and kind, Tom Holland was not. 

You pushed off the covers and finally pulled yourself out of bed. After doing your morning routine, you threw yourself into the couch with a coffee in hand while a toast on the other. 

Today was your last day off before you went back to taping so you were expecting a pretty dull day today- that is until your phone kept on buzzing.

You looked at the caller ID before letting out a huge groan, “Zoë, Please for the love of God, it’s my day off.” 

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Your manager said on the other line. “And I know it’s your day off, I just wanted to check up on you.” 

You furrowed your brows. “That sounds oddly suspicious, what are you planning to do, Zoë?” 

“Would you relax, Y/N? I was just asking if you have anything to do for your day off.” She replied. 

“I’ll probably do a bit of grocery shopping later, but other than that I might bury myself in blankets and watch movies in the living room.” You answered and took a bite of your toast, frowning as you tried to swallow your sad and bland breakfast. 

“Okay, that’s good to know-Oh, and I also wanted to tell you that your taping tomorrow has been moved for the next two days. Apparently, Alissa won’t be back till tomorrow.” 

“Oh, thank god,” You sighed, relieved to hear that you have another day off. “Thanks for the heads up, Zo. I’ll see ‘ya soon.” You hung up the phone and finished the piece of toast. 

You watched a few episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine before you gathered up the will to get yourself ready. After taking a well-deserved warm bath and doing your extensive skincare routine -watching videos about Koreans sharing their skincare routine on Youtube really got the best of you and your bank account- You put on a plain white shirt and paired it with your favourite pair of mom jeans. 

As you grabbed your keys and your wallet, ready to bust out the door, you heard your phone ring. 

“Are you home?” 

“Yes, I am, Ronnie. Why are you asking?” You asked her. 

“Cool. Can you open the door please?” She asked on the other line. 

Confused, you opened your front door and sure enough, Veronica was standing in front of your apartment wearing her university sweatshirt and denim jeans. 

“Oh thank god you’re ready, I had the most awful day at school. I just received my paper for my 400-level political science class and let’s just say that the mark I got, I haven’t done it in bed for a while now.” Veronica ranted off, taking her shoes off before placing her books on the coffee table. 

It took you a solid minute before you just realized what she just said. “Ronnie, I don’t want to know about your sex life-” You said before you fixed your hair. “Or lack thereof.” 

“I could really use some good fucking, ‘yannoe?” 

“Jesus Christ, Ronnie-” You sighed as you handed her shoes back to her. “C’mon, I have to do some serious grocery shopping.”

“Okay, but I’m driving,” Ronnie said as she grabbed her car keys. “You’re a horrible driver.” 

“Works for me,” You shrugged and locked the front door. 

The travel to the grocery store was typical: you two belting One Direction songs the whole time. You and Veronica were strolling the yogurt aisle when she asked about your whole love life situation. 

“Oi, I thought you and Tom weren’t dating?” She asked as she put an assorted pack of yogurt down the cart. 

“I’m never going to eat that,” You pointed at the yogurt. “And we aren’t.” 

“I will eat it whenever I stop by unannounced at your place,” Veronica argued. “Then what’s with that photo that I’ve seen with you two holding hands yesterday?” 

You looked around, checking if there was anybody within-distance that could hear whatever you were about to say. “We’re not actually dating.” You murmured.

“Come again?” Veronica asked, completely lost. 

“We’re just doing it for publicity.” You whispered loud enough for Ronnie to hear. 

“I’m sorry, but how exactly did it escalate to that?” She asked, totally confused. 

“Remember that stunt I pulled at the club the other day?” 

“Yeah, you were all over the news.” 

“That was the reason as to why it had to escalate to me and him dating.” You answered as you pushed the cart again. 

“Yeah, no, I need a cup of coffee before we do this, I’m all caffeine-out,” Veronica said before she bid of herself off and went towards the Starbucks that was found near the entrance of the store. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at your friend and carried on completing the least stressful adult task for you. 

It was actually quite serene. You managed to finish your shopping without people noticing you-well, that’s a stretch. People did notice you. Most of them gave you an acknowledging nod followed by a small smile, some of them asked for a photo, and only a few just stared at you-which you didn’t mind. 

You were paying for your things when Veronica appeared right beside you with a cup of coffee in hand. “What? Did the line at Starbucks reach the parking lot? What took you so long?” 

“No, but a cute guy bought me a drink.” She beamed, taking a sip of her coffee. 

You chuckled. “Good for you, Ronnie.”

“Y/N, girl, I swear- he has the most gorgeous eyes.” Ronnie carried on, the smile was stuck on her face. “Oh, he was so sweet.” She sighed happily. 

You were happy for your friend since it’s not every day she meets someone that she’s completely enamoured with. However, she can express her liking for this guy while helping you load the grocery back in the cart. “Ronnie, that sounds great and all, but can you help me with the groceries so we can leave now?” You practically begged. 

Veronica nodded and helped you load the groceries back in the cart, immediately speeding up the process. Taking too much time fixing your groceries at the till always gave you anxiety, especially when there’s a long queue behind you. 

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Veronica gasped as you two were walking towards the parking lot. 

“What? What happened? Are you okay?” You asked, completely baffled. 

“I forgot to tell you that he has this amazing accent,” She sighed, making you roll your eyes. 

“Ronnie, I swear to god I will fucking kill you.” You grumbled as Veronica opened the trunk of her car and started handing you the groceries for you to put in. 

“I forgot to get his name though,” She mumbled. “which is a bummer because he was honestly a godsend.” 

All you could do was roll your eyes as you were lost for words. 

“Oh, quit rolling your eyes at me. Just because you have a boyfriend, doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to have one.” Ronnie pointed out. 

“As if I actually have a boyfriend,” You countered, finishing up with the groceries.

“Whatever,” Veronica mumbled and shut off the trunk of her car. “I’ll just put this cart back and-”

“Hey, Veronica, was it?” 

You and Veronica both turned your heads towards the person who just called Veronica’s name. As soon as she saw who the voice belonged to, it gave her extreme delight. 

“Yes,” She beamed at the brunette with insanely blue eyes. “We talked earlier but I didn’t get your name.” 

“Sorry ‘bout that. I had to take a phone call and when I got back, you weren’t there.” The guy explained. You took a good look at him. He seemed familiar but you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it. 

“No, you’re okay! I had to go back to my friend here-which reminds me,” Veronica pulled you closer “This is my best friend, Y/N, Y/N, this is-” 

“Harrison,” The guy smiled at you and extended his hand for you to shake. You politely shook his hand and after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes widened. “Wait, You’re Y/N L/N, right? From the Alchemist?” 

You gave him a small nod, still trying to figure out who he is. “You’re also Tom’s girlfriend, I presume?” He asked a bit shyly. 

“Great. I can’t believe I have to live with that label attached to my name now.” You thought to yourself.

You weren’t exactly sure if and how you were going to answer his question. Where are you with this stunt anyway? Are you and Tom supposed to be vocal about your relationship or were you two just blatant and left the people to figure out for themselves? 

Harrison seemed to take notice of your hesitation in regard to the question. “It’s okay,” He says softly. “I know.” 

“Pardon me?” 

“I know the real deal about you and Tom.” He whispered. 

There was a look of panic in Veronica’s eyes. “Yeah, that they’re totally in love.” She said defensively. You, however, seemed unbothered. You were also curious. You’ve seen Harrison before but you couldn’t point out where you’ve seen him. 

“Harrison, you’re Tom’s best friend, yeah?” You asked him, starting to get a picture of how familiar he is. 

Harrison nodded. “I wasn’t really expecting for our first meeting to be like this.” He chuckled. 

“Eh, it’s alright,” You shrugged. “Much better for us to meet this way and in our own circumstance, considering your friend makes everything ten times more unbearable.”

Harrison let out a small laugh, “Tom’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“Oh trust me, I know him plenty and so far, I’m not liking it.” You argued quite defensively. “Well, I’ll leave you two to chat for a bit as I put this cart back in its place.” You said as you gave Veronica a short look, in which she beamed at you in return. 

You purposely took your time with returning the pushcart back in its rightful area. You fumbled with your phone for a bit, checking your Twitter only to find out that you’re still trending and people still have no idea what to feel about you and Tom’s relationship. 

“Why did I pour my drink all over him again?” You asked yourself in frustration. 

As you walked back towards Ronnie’s car, you saw your best friend and Harrison talk animatedly around each other with their smiles never leaving their faces. 

The tad bitter side of you wondered if their mouths hurt from all that smiling, it also made you wonder if it’s even okay for a normal person to smile that much. However, the better part of you was glad that your best friend was happy. Veronica needed to be happy. 

Soon after, they bid their goodbyes, not before exchanging phone numbers. Harrison gave you a friendly wave-goodbye before he walked towards his car. 

As soon as you sat on the passenger seat of Ronnie’s car, you were already greeted by a huge smile on her face. 

“Okay, don’t get mad-” Ronnie began.

You groaned. Knowing your best friend, you knew that she did something that will get you mad. “Ronnie, what did you do?” 

“Okay, so I know that tonight was supposed to be our movie night but I just couldn’t help it! You know me through thick and thin, Y/N! You know how I do things impulsively around guys that I’m interested in. I’m like a mindless machine around them! I don’t even know why I’m talking this much when I usually have everything under control but Harrison-” 

“Ronnie sweetie, breathe,” You said with your hands placed on top of her shoulders. “You are babbling and I need you to get straight to the point.”  

Veronica took a deep breath before she said the words that almost made you want to smack the living daylights out of your friend. “I invited Harrison for dinner and I told him he can bring Tom too.” 

“Could you stop?” Veronica threw the kitchen towel at you as you continued to glare at her. “You’re being childish, hon.” 

“I am not being childish! You’re being childish.” You argued, crossing your arms. 

Veronica just stared at you, her face seemingly screams that she’s absolutely done with you. 

“Okay, so maybe I am being childish,” You admitted. “But you threw the towel at me so I’m not the only one here with an attitude.” 

Veronica rolled her eyes as she finished setting up the table. You two were supposed to have pasta over dinner and have a Harry Potter movie marathon while eating junk food. Well, you two were still going to do it, except this time you’re joined by Harrison and Tom. 

“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me,” You said dramatically. 

“Y/N, hon, you’re exaggerating. I’m pretty sure this evening’s not going to be bad.” Ronnie commented. 

Veronica left the kitchen and proceeded to the living room to check her makeup in the mirror that was propped over the wall. You followed her into the living room and threw yourself on the couch. 

“Ronnie, why did you even invite them? Don’t you have classes tomorrow? Also, aren’t you supposed to be writing your paper for your social class?” You asked as you watched Ronnie retouch her makeup. 

You were trying your best to cancel this dinner. You tried to reason with your best friend though because this is your house in the first place. However, she pulled the “This is my chance in getting myself a love life” card and she has moaned for years that she really wants to meet someone. You’d do anything for Veronica’s happiness. You’d also do anything to keep your best friend quiet about how she wants to date so bad. 

“I already have my draft for that paper, just need to edit it,” Ronnie replied as she applied a coat of mascara. “Besides, I don’t have any classes on Mondays, you knew that.”

“Right,” you mumbled. “Still think this is a bad idea though. Things got so unbearable with Tom yesterday, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle another day with that guy ever again.” 

After your whole lunch scene with Tom yesterday, it felt suffocating. It was unbearable. He was back with his usual snarky attitude and it drove you mad. 

You learned one sure thing about your set-up though: He was only charming around other people, but if it’s just you two? He was a jerk. 

Not even a minute later, the doorbell rang. You got up and checked who was at the door and sure enough, two familiar faces filled up the screen. 

“Speaking of the devil,” You muttered before opening the door and was greeted by Harrison who gave you a hug. 

“Thanks for having us over, Y/N” Harrison said as he pulled away from the short hug. He then proceeded to give Veronica one, and it was obvious that his intentions were solely focused on her anyway. 

“Uh, yeah. No problem.” You said almost awkwardly as you gave Ronnie a look, who in turn mouthed a grateful ‘Thank you’. 

You turned back to the door and saw that Tom standing there, a stoic look on his face. He looked like he came out of a photoshoot based on the clothes he was wearing: slouchy black button-ups and a pair of denim jeans. “Holland,” You greeted him as you opened the door a bit wider. 

“Y/L/N,” He said as he gave you a once-over. “You look...” Tom seemed like he was really trying hard to think of a nice word to say. 

“Don’t strain yourself,” You said as you rolled your eyes.

You were wearing an oversized band shirt -that was tied in a knot at the front- and paired it with high-waisted patterned pants. You and Ronnie shared a small argument on what you should wear for dinner. 

She insisted that you should dress for your comfort while looking presentable and you argued that that is the outfit that gave you comfort. 

You also argued that Ronnie and her guests should be glad that you weren’t wearing sweatpants like you anticipated before Ronnie invited people for dinner. 

“Good because I wasn’t planning to,” Tom nagged, sending you into absolute overdrive.  

As soon as he had his back turned on you, you resisted the urge of strangling him right then and there. 

Unbeknownst to you and Tom, Veronica and Harrison caught the frustration painted on your face causing them to chuckle amongst themselves. 

You and Tom had only known each other for two days at most, and yet you already had the most confusing relationship that existed in this world. 

“If this carries throughout the evening, the world will know me not as Tom Holland’s girlfriend, but as the girl who killed him.” You muttered to Veronica as you passed by her. 

“Relax, Y/N,” Veronica chuckled as she put a hand over your shoulder. “Dinner wouldn’t be that bad.”  

Saying that dinner wouldn’t be that bad would be an understatement. Dinner was horrible. 

Veronica and Harrison were pretty much occupied during the entire meal. They mostly had their attention to each other, which didn’t surprise you. Ronnie and Harrison were smitten for each other, it actually made you snort. 

You and Tom, though, were a different case. You two were seated across each other and you two wouldn’t stop bickering. 

It started when Tom accidentally kicked your foot underneath the table. 

“Ouch!” You yelped. “Why did you kick me?!”

“It was an accident,” He said defensively. 

“Psh, right” You scoffed. “Accident my ass.” 

The “I accidentally kicked you underneath the table” carried on for the entire meal, with you and Tom exchanging kicks every few minutes. 

You two also shared glares throughout the dinner. 

“Why are you mad at me?!” Tom argued. 

“Because you’re here!”

“Well, why did you invite me then?!” 

“I didn’t! It was all her!” You hissed as you pointed at Veronica who was rather talking intimately with Harrison, and was also very much oblivious to the argument unveiling in front of her and Haz. 

“God, why did I even think coming here was a good idea.” Tom moaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously annoyed. 

It didn’t even end there, as you all moved from the kitchen and into the living room to start the Harry Potter marathon, you and Tom started bickering over a piece of furniture. 

As Ronnie and Haz went to the loveseat sofa, you claimed the larger couch so you could lay down while watching the film and leaving Tom with nothing to sit on. You didn’t have much furniture considering you’re the only one who lives in this apartment. 

“Scoot over, Y/N.” He said as he approached the couch you were laying on.

“You can sit at the ottoman.” 

“And have nothing to rest my back on?”  

“God, you are such a diva.” You grumbled. “Just sit on the floor then.” You replied as you pulled the faux fur blanket over you, keeping you warm and cozy. 

“I don’t want to sit on the floor for hours,” Tom argued as he tried to pull you up from your position. 

“Fine, I���ll get you the floor cushion.” You said in defeat. 

“I want to sit on the couch, Y/N.”

“I am not moving, Holland. You can’t make me.” You said rather childishly. 

“Fine,” Tom sighed and pulled the ottoman closer to the couch. He pulled up your feet and sat on the end of the couch as he propped his feet on top of the ottoman. He placed your feet on top of his lap, as you claimed you weren’t going to get up from your laying down position.  “Then don’t move.” He dictated, leaving you to roll your eyes. 

And as for the cherry on top, you had your manager nag you to post something about your evening. You didn’t even know that Veronica filmed a quick story for her Instagram until you received a message from Zoë saying: “A couple of fans that follow Ronnie saw her story. Share it on your Insta too, it adds foundation to  our story.” 

Ronnie’s Insta story showed the television playing Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s stone, and it panned to Harrison who was smiling softly at the camera and then, panned to you and Tom who were sharing the couch. You two were watching intently and from the looks of it, you looked like a very believable couple. 

Your manager was right and that irked you. The devil works hard but Zoë works harder.

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[aam-loves]

I had one winter prompt left and decided to toss a little bit of Valentine’s Day into it. And it’s also a bit late, sorry

04. i’m running late to an important interview/meeting and you accidentally spill your hot cocoa all over my outfit

February 12th

Betty methodically stirred her coffee near the counter. The building was just across the street and she had 15 more minutes till her job interview. Anyway she like to have some extra time so she decided to take her coffee to go. She can drink it while waiting. Just as she was walking to the door of the coffee shop her body collided with the one rushing inside. The hot liquid spilled all over her cream coat and her white shirt.

“Shit!” the curse slipped out of her mouth

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry” Betty heard the deep voice above her and felt strong hands steadying her by her arms.

She raised her head and was met with a pair of gorgeous blue eyes, dark locks of hair falling over them. She was hypnotized for a moment, until she noticed his pained expression.

She looked down on her shirt and was horrified to see a brown stain spreading over her blouse.

“Oh shit, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, I can’t show up there looking like this!”

“I’m so sorry miss... here, take it” she looked up again to see the stranger slipping his suit jacket off.

“I....” she didn’t know what to say

“Take it, please. And here, this is my business card, just call me and I will send your coat to the dry cleaners” he told her sincerely.

Betty didn’t have any other choice, so she grabbed the jacket and shoved the business card into her pocket not even looking at it. Then she muttered a quiet thank you and hurried to her meeting.

She reached the needed floor and had 10 minutes left. Without coffee now she went to the bathroom to try and make herself look more presentable in an oversized jacket.

It smelled like it’s owned she supposed. Of something clean, mixed with his cologne, pine and tobacco. It was a nice smell she decided. She looked and herself in the mirror and decided that she could make it work. Oversized clothes seemed to be in trend after all. So she folded the sleeves so that they weren’t dangling from her arms and she would just have to keep it closed up so just the collar of her white shirt that remained unstained was peeking out of it.

Betty touched up her hair and renewed her lipgloss and went to the office to wait to be called for an interview.

She was nervous. That job was her last chance as she was rejected from the previous two and didn’t get any other interviews. Though it wasn’t what she wanted, she needed the job. A&J Constructions was a big company, not of her specialty, as she studied literature and journalism, but Betty was sure with her intelligence, experience and devotion to her work she would manage to do almost anything.

Well, she was quite surprised when she walked into the office and saw a person who spilled her coffee on her sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

***

Jughead strode into his office and plopped into his chair. He huffed a breath running a hand through his hair.

He was still beating himself for spoiling the morning for the beautiful blonde in the coffee shop. Damn the jacket, he had more, but this angel shouldn’t have any inconveniences he caused her.

He closed his eyes and the picture of soft blonde waves and doe green eyes appeared behind his eyelids. He wished she would call him because of the dry cleaners and he would try to ask her out for an apology dinner.

His fantasy was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Mr. Jones, Ms. Cooper is here for the interview” his secretary chirped.

“Yeah, let her in”.

***

February 14th

Betty sat on her couch miserable. Her fluffy cat in her lap and fuzzy bubblegum pink pajamas on. She had a bottle of wine open and half of the pint of ice cream eaten.

One thing that she doesn’t have a date on Valentine’s Day, but she also got a call yesterday, saying she didn’t get the job. What an asshole. She was hoping Mr. Jones would give her at least a trial period for ruined clothes. But as much as she was irritated by him, he most probably would be the object of her fantasies late at night.

She just couldn’t deny how attractive he was.

He phone on the end table started ringing.

Unknown.

Betty cautiously accepted the call.

“Miss Cooper?” a female voice asked on the other end.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“My name is Antoinette Topaz, from Topaz Publishing” the woman introduced herself.

Betty knew the publishing house, all the recent bestsellers were published under it.

“H-how can I help you?”

“We got a chance to look through your resume and I must say it is quite impressive. One of my editors went on the maternity leave just yesterday and I want to offer you to try for her spot.”

Betty couldn’t believe her ears. She was offered a job? Was that for real?

“H-how... how do you have my resume? I don’t remember applying for the job...”

“Because it wasn’t on the market. As I said my editor left just yesterday and a friend of mine insisted I looked at your resume.”

“A friend?...”

“Jughead Jones” the woman stated “So, Miss Cooper, are you interested?”

“Yes! Yes of course!”

“I’ll send you all the information through email and I expect to see you at the office at Monday”

“Yes! Oh my god, thank you! I’ll be there.”

Betty sat stunned. The phone still in her hand as she was processing what had just happened.

On a whim she made a decision and rushed to her coat. She rummaged through pockets and fished out a business card. She looked from card to her phone and with a sharp exhale started dialing the number from the card.

She bit her lip anxiously listening to the rings. She was about to hang as the ringing was interrupted by a hoarse voice.

“Hello?”

“H-hi... um... it’s Betty, Betty Cooper.”

“Oh, hello Betty. Is it about the coat? I can give you the address of the dry cleaners and they will just count it on me-...”

“No, no it’s about job.”

“Betty, I’m really sorry, but I just couldn’t give you the job.” he sighed on the other end.

“Oh... it’s... your friend called me today and I’m gonna start at Topaz publishing on Monday.”

“Well, that’s really great.”

“But now I’m just curious.... why?”

“I...uh... you see, we have this strict rule of no relationship inside company and I... I guess wouldn’t be able to restrain myself from asking you out. Not that I assume that you would have agreed, but that would be great. And I sound like a creep no, but-“

Betty was blushing and hardly could hold her giggles at his rambling.

“I would” she interrupted, “I would have agreed.”

“Yeah?” She could imagine him chuckling into his phone.

“Yeah” she exhale, smiling wide.

“And now?”

“What now?”

“Will you go out with me?”

“I cannot find the reason to say no”

“Tonight?”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s Valentine’s Day after all and it’s no good to leave it without a date”. he argued.

“So, you’re a romantic” she hummed

“I can be. So you agree?”

“When and where?”

“Will you be ready by 7?”

Betty glanced at the clock, she had 4 hours left “I guess so.”

“I’ll text you the address. Can’t wait to see you, Betty.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She ended the call with a smile and pressed the phone to her chest sighing happily and leaning against the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment, then remembered that she looked like mess and rushed to the bathroom.