#but i enjoyed it through guacamole. which i really have to say points to where avocado shines

[morethansalad]

Avocado (Persea americana)

[queeniesrose]

This is inspired by a post that was done a few years ago on a friends blog where they did for the SWSH leaders were reacting to thirsty tweets. This post includes characters from different games, so it’s not for just one group. This is a NSFW post. And no, I will not explain what anything means. This post will read like it is for a youtube video. The host of the video will be you, the reader.

Also! Arven will be included in this post. Please see this post and this poll, both on @pokenimagines (A Pokémon blog I help run when we both aren't burnt out) to get some insight on why he is included.

Master Post 

Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one!

Thirsty Tweets: Pokemon

As soon as the video starts playing, the viewer can see the host on screen. It wasn’t long before you said in the video, “On today's episode of Celebrity Thirsty Tweets, we have Gym Leaders, Elite Four, a Champion, and a Professor! Sit back, relax and enjoy the video!” The screen fades to black with a rendition of ABC by Jackson 5 playing. Soon the first person and their corresponding tweet is on screen.

I want to give him the most astonishing, atrocious, shameless, violent, rude, disrespectful, toe curling, sheet gripping head he's ever had. @GalarChampionLeon

It takes Leon a full minute of opening and closing his mouth before he could form a response. His cheeks turned a scarlet red. "I- I. Well that's certainly something. More power to you if you can accomplish that to someone." He looks down as he runs a hand through his hair. He chuckles, before he looks up at the camera, "Some of these fans are real imaginative."

LISTEN HES ALL PURPOSE FLOUR 👅👅👅 @Elite4Larry

As soon as Larry finish reading out the tweet, he lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. "I am flour because I am bland? I will give you that. At this point, being a stressed and depressed adult will do that to someone." He pauses for a moment to think. "If you're into all purpose flour, guess I'm the guy for you."

Ayo fine ass girlboss spotted. Come here madam. I would like her to put me on a leash. @Elite4Rika

Rika smirks as she finishes reading the tweet. "Awe does someone want to be my pet? Does someone need to go on some walkies?" She lets out a hearty laugh, shaking her head. She leans back in her chair and rest her arm on her knee. "Sounds like a many of you need a badass domme in your life."

Rika can break me, while Brassius can breed me. @Elite4Rika @Truleewoodo

"I can do more than just break you sweetheart." Rika says, winking at the camera. "Tell me when and where. Safe word is Mushu."

Brassius leans back into his chair, smirking at the camera. He takes a few moments before he says anything. "You want me to breed you darlin? Is that really what you want?" He asks, leaning forward, "Have you been good? Only good darlins get to be bred."

@ProfessorSycamore is so hot. I wanna climb him like an Arceus damn jungle gym.

Sycamore's face heats up instantly. "That doesn't sound very safe, now does it?" He asks, "Although, I don't think you care about your safety from your tweet. Which is very important! Being safe in all situations is important! Even in kinky situations." He rubs his cheeks a little bit as he attempts to hid the fact that his face is going a tomato red.

THAT DUDE ON TEAM STAR CAN GET IT TOO!

Who, @Guacamole?

IS THAT HIS NAME?

Giacomo sighs and rubs the side of his face. "You make one joke!" He exclaims, "One joke! One joke about being able to use different words for my name like what happens with Bramblepatch Scratch-n-Sniff! Then you get called Guacamole and that becomes what people call you! But yes, I can definitely get it! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!"

I once made my dildo dent in half, you wanna see my gorilla grip @DragonRaihan?

After he finishes reading out the tweet, he looks up at the camera with a confused look on his face, "I- how the fuck did you manage to do that?" You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to work out how that happened. He scratches his head after a few moments, "Ya know, I'm not gonna try to figure out the logistics of that."

I ain’t here to be your toaster strudel. I’m here to be your Twinkie. Pull out and I’ll kill you. @FarmerMilo

"Oh my!" Milo exclaims, going as red as a tomato. He raises his hand to point at the screen as he starts to speak again. "There will be no killing happening around here! I am a good farmer boy." His eyes go wide and he smacks a hand over his mouth at the realization of what he just said implies in context to the tweet. Your laughter could be heard from behind the camera.

@EliteFourRika could step on me multiple times, spit on me, and call me worthless and I WILL THANK HER.

Rika moves the mike closer to her mouth, leans forward, and stares straight into the camera, before she starts speaking. "So you would thank me? That's it? What else would I hear darlin? Would I hear you begging me for those things?" She asks, her voice deeper than normal. She chuckles, "Y'all are really going feral, aren't ya?"

Anyone think that @Truleewoodo needs a nude model? Think he'll model nude for a class?

Brassius starts shaking his head and tisking at the camera. " There will be no classes that I will model for. There will also never be any media of myself nude that will be made public." He leans back and scratches his head, before he continues. "BUT the only exception to that would be a private session where I would allow my significant other to artistically capture my nude self in their preferred form of media. This would be for their consumption and their consumption alone.

I just want him to cook me a meal and tell me I was a good boy. Is that too much to ask? @Arven&Mabostiff

Arven looked at the camera with a shocked look, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "I- I. No that's not to much to ask! Quite honestly, I would love to cook for someone, other than myself, mabostiff and my other Pokémon." He said as he got a bit of a distant look.

The camera fades to black, before you appear back on screen. "And that's all for today folks! This has been today's episode of Celebrity Thirsty Tweets! See you next time!" You say before your video outro plays.

[rayslittlekitten]

Random WIP 2

Here is another Will x OFC first chapter of a fic I started. Again, I hadn't quite figured everything out yet which is why it's at a halt but there's also a very specific story I want to tell with this and it's one I've been wanting to tell for like the last 10 years and found an opportunity here. This is supposed to take place shortly after TF where Will is laying low before heading home:

The dimly lit restaurant is quiet, save for the jazzy cover songs and crickets softly filling the humid air. A breeze comes through the outdoor eatery every once in a while to bring relief. Some strategically placed small fans help but it's mostly the large colorful banners hanging from the perimeter of the roof that are getting any of it. The bright sugar skull-patterned tablecloths lay neatly and wrinkle free on the table tops. A large chalkboard hanging above the wooden bar lists a small menu of mainly Mexican fare and drinks, despite being in a Costa Rican tourist town. Typical dive bar decorations are hanging from or sitting on corners of the hut: a dart board, plants, a surfboard. Random knick knacks are scattered across the bar top. The scents of grilled meats waft out from the tiny kitchen hidden behind a swinging door behind the bar. 

It's a slow night for this secluded hole-in-the-wall and normally would close early if there are no patrons, but there is one sitting at the bar, enjoying his cold beers at his leisure while snacking on guacamole and chips. His blue eyes are fixated on his phone in one hand while the other tips back the brown glass bottle to empty the last drops of Imperial into his mouth. He places the bottle on the bar top next to the ashtray and when he tries to get the bartender's attention, a woman plops down on the stool a couple of seats down from him.

"Hola! Bienvenidos!" The bartender greets the new patron.

The first thing the blonde man notices is the tiara on top of her head. It shines bright even in this low light. 

"Hola! Um... una cerveza por favor?" the crowned woman asks.

"Cual quieres?"

"Uh... ingles?" she asks with uncertainty.

"What kind of beer do you want?" the man jumps in to translate.

"Oh!" She turns to face him. "Uh... I'll take whatever you're having," she answers, pointing to the bottle next to him.

"Dos Imperial, por favor," he tells the bartender while holding up two fingers. 

The bartender nods and goes to grab two new bottles, placing them in front of them.

"Gracias!" he says and the woman next to him follows suit.

"Uh... cuando?" she asks as she digs through her clutch.

"You mean cuanto," the man corrects her. 

"Los sientos, mi español es no muy bueno," she tells him.

"Not bad," he tips his head with a small smirk. “It's 1200 colones for that beer."

"Gracias," she tips her head back and hands the bartender a 2000 colones note. 

When the bartender hands her the change, she puts her hands out, palms up and gestures to her.

"No, no, for you. Pa-para tu," she tells her.

"Gracias," the bartender nods.

"Thanks for the..." she brings up the beer bottle to present to him.

"No problem," he flashes a polite smile before taking a swig of his ice cold beer.

He turns his attention back to his phone, scrolling through social media. 

"So, you work here or something? Expat?" she asks, looking over at him.

"No, no," he shakes his head and chuckles, pulling his attention away from his phone. "I'm just on vacation. I've just been coming here a lot during my stay.”

“Do you speak Spanish fluently?”

“No, not really. Just know enough to get by,” he answers.

"You here by yourself?" she asks, taking a gulp of her beer.

"Yup," he nods, taking a swig of his own. "How about you?"

"I'm also on vacation. Bachelorette party actually." She rolls her eyes.

"Your bachelorette party?" he asks with a raised brow.

"Oh, god no," she waves her hand in front of her while shaking her head. "My future sister-in-law."

"Where's the rest of the party?" he asks curiously while pulling a cigarette out of a half-empty pack.

"They're back at the Airbnb we rented, passed out or shitfaced. I had to get away from all that. It's been a crazy couple of days."

"You mind?" he asks, showing her the cigarette.

"No, but if you have some weed, I'll join you," she answers with a smirk.

"Sorry, I don't have any," he shrugs apologetically before lighting up his cigarette. "Aren't bachelorette parties supposed to be all crazy?"

"Yeah, I guess but I don't really know the other girls too well. They all went to college together, were in the same sorority. Very tight knit. They probably haven't even realized I left." She takes another large gulp of her beer. "To be honest, I only came for my brother. I know it means a lot to him."

"Well, maybe you should insert yourself," he licks his lips to wet them before taking a drag of his cigarette. "Let your presence be known."

She stares at him for a moment with narrow eyes.

"You mind if I sit next to you?" she asks as she slowly rises from her stool.

"You're more than welcome," he waves his hand over the stool next to him, offering her the seat.

She grabs her beer and shuffles over a few stools down and gets comfortable in the seat next to him. She’s suddenly hit with the smell of cigarette smoke and a sweet, woody scent.

"I'm Jasmine by the way," she offers her hand. 

He glances down at her hand for a moment before making eye contact again.

"Hi, Jasmine. I'm John." He takes her hand and shakes it. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too."

"So Jasmine? Like the princess from Aladdin?" 

"Wow! I expected a guy like you to maybe compare it to the flower or tea, not a children's cartoon," she answers in surprise.

"I have friends with young children that I've babysat and they like to watch a lot of Disney movies," he laughs, but it dies quickly, almost like he regretted mentioning it.

"Well, don't let this tiara fool you," she points to the shiny cheap plastic affixed to atop of her head. "I'm no princess," she takes a swig of her drink. "Although, I have had a bee land on my arm once right before it stung me."

"Well, I think that qualifies you as a Disney princess."

"I'm not interested." She scrunches her nose and shakes her head. "Too many damsels doing dumb shit for a fairytale ending. You know who I'd rather be? The sidekicks. The talking animals. They're the ones who slap some common sense into these princesses." She slaps a hand on the bar top.

He takes a drag of his cigarette while listening to her nonsense talk.

"Plus, they're the sassiest ones."

"Like you?" he chuckles after blowing out smoke from the corner of his mouth away from her face, but some of the soft white clouds find their way back as it disperses into the air.

"You think I'm sassy?" she asks curiously, turning her body towards him, accidentally knocking her bare knee into his.

He eyes her up and down for a moment, taking notice of the low cut mini dress she has on, and shrugs. 

"I'd say so in the very short time I've known you." 

"So why are you here? Vacationing alone here in Costa Rica?" She asks as she crosses her legs. She doesn't miss his eyes darting down to her legs.

"I just needed some time away," he shrugs. "I had a bit of uh, a very stressful... gig recently and just need to kind of regroup myself before going back home."

"What do you do?" 

"I'm a motivational speaker," he answers.

"Motivational speaking is stressful?" she asks with wide eyes. “Geez, who or what are you trying to motivate?”

"No, no," he shakes his head while chuckling. "The gig was... it was something else. Honestly, I'd rather not talk about it." He takes one last pull of his cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray.

"Sorry I brought it up. Sounds like a sore subject."

"It's alright," he says, exhaling the smoke out. “You didn’t know.”

"So where are you from?" She changes the subject.

"Colorado. How about you?" He crosses his arms.

"I’m from Jersey," she replies. 

"Ahh, the armpit of America," he laughs.

"Okay, Mr. Colorado, New Jersey isn't so bad. Jersey Shore just gives it a bad rap. And honestly, most of those people on the show aren't even from New Jersey," she defends.

“Oh, New Jersey sounds like a sore subject for you,” he jabs, downing a large sip of his beer.

Jasmine is about to give her rebuttal, but she is distracted. She licks her lips watching his Adam's apple bob up and down as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck while he takes a few gulps.

“So why here? Why this… bar? Restaurant? I’m not even sure what to call it,” she asks.

“I like it here,” he shrugs.

“It’s kinda dead in here,” she comments, looking around.

“That’s what I like about it.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Less people, less trouble.”

“Are you running away from trouble?” she asks curiously.

He licks his lip and thinks for a moment.

“No, ma’am,” he shakes his head. “Just my own thoughts. What are you running away from?” Twisting his body towards her, he turns the tables on her.

“I already told you. The bachelorette party,” she answers quickly, then polishes off half the beer.

“Is that really all you’re running away from?” he prods.

She switches her legs, uncrossing and crossing them again, causing her legs to brush his again. He shifts in his stool, adjusting himself.

“Yes. Yes, I am,” she nods. “You wanna do a shot?” She quickly switches gears.

“Sure, I’ll do one with ya.”

“Any preference?” she asks as she flags the bartender down. “It’s on me.”

“No, I got this one,” he says as he pulls out his wallet. “I’m usually a whiskey kinda guy, but have you had guaro?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a popular Costa Rican liquor.”

“Well, if you’re buying, I’ll let you pick,” she says.

“Dos tragos de guaro, por favor,” he jumps in.

“You sure you don’t speak Spanish fluently?” she narrows her eyes at him.

“I can order food and drinks, and curse,” he laughs.

The bartender serves up the two sweet shots for them. 

“Salud,” he cheers.

They clink their glasses together and they throw them back.

“Ooh it burns.” She chases it down with her beer.

“Oof, it does,” he coughs, doing the same.

“Well, I’ll get the next one. You like tequila?”

“This might be our only shot. They’re closing now,” he says, glancing at his watch.

“Where are you staying, if you don’t mind me asking?” she asks curiously.

“Not too far from here. A hotel up the road,” he answers. “How about you?”

“Same, but down the road I guess, at the bottom of the hill.”

“Would you like me to walk you back to your Airbnb? It’s a relatively safe area, but I’m willing to accompany you and make sure you get back to your Bachelorette party safely,” he volunteers.

“That’s not a party I’m interested in continuing.” Her manicured fingernails graze his tattooed forearm resting on the bar top.

He glances down at his arm and then back to her. He licks his lips, swallows and leans in a bit closer, entering her personal space.

“Well, uh, I think I’ve still got a bottle of whiskey back in my room,” he suggests.

“Oh yeah?” She replies, intrigued, leaning in to close the gap between them. “Want some company?”

“You always trust strangers so easily, especially in a foreign country?” he asks curiously.

“I’m not looking for trust. I’m just looking for a good time. Do you trust me?”

He studies her face for a few moments, his eyes moving between her plump lips and her flirty eyes which are also darting between his own pink lips and lustful baby blues, deciding on his answer.

“Besides, if you kidnap me, there are a bunch of women who will know I’m missing if I don’t show up back at the Airbnb,” she points out. 

“You have a point,” he nods.

“I’m also not in the business of kidnapping or stealing or any of that stuff, if you’re worried about that. To be honest, it sounds like way too much work than I’m willing to put in,” she adds and he laughs.

“Well then, after you, princess,” he gestures his arm out, letting her go first.

“Hey, I told you, I’m no princess,” she says as she gets up from her seat and tugs the snug dress down. “Also, you may be blonde and handsome, but don’t go all Prince Charming on me.”

“No, I’m definitely not,” he laughs, shaking his head. “Although I’m flattered. You’re done with your drink?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a taste for something else right now,” she replies as steps into the space between his legs, looking down at his face. 

Looking back up at her, he licks his lips again.

“Come on, Rajah,” he smirks. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Who?” she asks cluelessly.

“Rajah, Jasmine’s tig– nevermind,” he shakes his head and laughs.

He gets up from the stool, finishes the rest of his beer, and then tosses a few bills onto the bar.

“Gracias! ¡Buenas noches!” He waves to the bartender and walks off with his new friend.

[berryunho]

LOL sorry omg i really died. like am still dying. i spent all day yesterday crying over my coursework and shit but i talked to that guy and he really knocked some sense into me and told me to not be so hard on myself... so now im crying internally and not externally 😭

ive been thinking about it now and i think i might switch majors for the sake of my sanity bc real talk the amount of work is insane and i cant properly function it's crazy out here idk how people do this... i was thinking maybe health sci since i already have most of the credits for the degree and ive always wanted to be involved in the healthcare field... im gonna see my academic advisor on monday and see what they say because holy guacamole i want to be able to enjoy school w/o crying every time i think about it

omg that got long but those have been my thoughts for the past few days BUT ANYWAY that's so good!!!! im so happy for you big brain energy we love to see it!! ive got a biochem midterm this week (which is the cause of my mental breakdowns BUT KLSJFRG) and ochem is in 2 weeks but as i said might change majors and ochem is not necessary... so i'll prob drop it haha

the last season was so good. i found it a bit slow in the beginning but once it picks up it's going like i could not stop watching it!! i havent watched bcs but i heard it gets better near the end again?? ive watched el camino tho

that's how i felt abt crocheting at first like im the type of person to try something for a little bit and then give up right after but honestly!!! it's so fun because you can make all kinds of different things like clothing, bags, accessories and it's so fun!! i've been picking up knitting too and i've made some socks and i'm working on a sweater rn

WOIEFJWE that man is so wonderful like i feel like he really understands me and !!!!!!!!!!! i feel like he really balances out the "negative" parts/thoughts of me and is so reassuring IM WHIPPED LOL

omg yes i had a bad cold too like a week ago (no covid as well) and i think i might be good now knock on wood!! what a slay im glad your classes are going so well for you! i dont follow hockey (gasp) but i can see the thrill of it!! hopefully they can win the next game!

highly enjoyed the break. have a great weekend too!! <3

-mightychondria

no no no worries lol i totally get being busy and everything <33

but omg :[[ im sorry that school has been so overwhelming and stressful for you aaaaa yeah if its at the point where you're upset everyday and completely overwhelmed and don't like school then i definitely agree w changing your major.... you don't want the rest of your life to be like this lol health science would be interesting for sure !! there are so many ways to be involved in health care and the health system without being a doctor/nurse/etc so im sure you'll be able to find something that works !!

?!*%*$???($*@)? you're taking ochem AND biochem at the same time ?!!?($*@)@ i understand the breakdowns wtf id lose it fr but lol fingers crossed changing your major works out so that you don't have to take that ochem exam

fr i definitely understand why breaking bad is considered like one of the best shows of all time ... the writing was so good and the story was so compelling and even when it got to the point where you were like 'wtf thats sick and messed up' you couldnt stop watching bc you were in so deep lol but !! ive yet to watch el camino ... hmmm

oooo man thats so cool !! you're so right like i always see crochet tutorials on tiktok for like the most random things ever and you can make like. anything. its amazing. hehe maybe ill try it out once i have more free time :]

YAAAYYY FOR THE MAN!! im glad that he's good for you :] its very nice that he's sticking w you through all of your stress and helping you out!! hehe have yall gone on any fun dates or are you just ~talking~ ?

tis the time of year for colds lol this one i think is just about done ... my cough is significantly better today but i can't decide if its actually better or if its just bc i havent been talking today .... lol ig ill see tomorrow! KFLJDSKFJ [gasp] a canadian that doesn't follow hockey ... an incredible find ... hehehe im joking but yes fr hockey is so crazy compared to other sports like even though its kinda like soccer its still so different and sooooo entertaining to me lol ty for the support for my team they definitely need it [muffled through fake coughing] they're bad [more fake coughing]

yay! i hope this week of classes goes better! tyyyy <3 <3 <3

[c-is-for-circinate]

Like, is the gist "Real life pedophilia/incest/rape is bad, and stories saying these things are good are bad, but including these topics in a story isn't inherently bad, so the people being like 'hey, maybe Ao3 shouldn't have so much kiddie porn there's an entire category called "Underage"' are just overreacting and making things worse?" Because it feels like you're saying, "your negative reaction to this stuff is valid, but also you're annoying and prudish and bad and really you aren't valid."

So here’s the thing: it really does not sound like you're asking this question because you want my answer, it sounds like you want to be angry with me and have a fight. And fair enough! I'm not terribly interested in a fight, but apparently this is my day to dive into this topic as thoughtfully and honestly as I can be. Maybe I'll say something you haven't already heard from other people before. Maybe not! Only you, anonymous asker, know that.

To begin with, you got part of the gist right. Real life rape (including child abuse/child sexual abuse as well as incest) is bad. Stories about rape, about underage sex, and about incest, are stories.

They're stories. They're pixels on a screen. They're not real. Whether they claim that rape is good, or bad, or sexy, or melodramatic, or life-destroying, or a normal Tuesday afternoon. They're stories.

And having a negative reaction to them is valid. Stories can stir up powerful emotions in people. It is absolutely, 100%, fair and valid and even normal for there to be certain tropes, plot elements, events, and kinds of content that make you upset and that you never want to see in a story you read, ever. You don't have to want to read about sex. You don't have to want to read any of it. That doesn't make you bad.

There are tropes, plot elements, events, and kinds of content that upset me. There are stories I won't read. The same is true of literally everyone else I know. Even though I know the stories aren't real. Even though I know the things happening in them are happening to fictional characters, who do not exist, who I cannot protect and who also cannot be harmed because they're not real. Even then, I can be made sad and scared and upset and hurt by reading those stories. And that is okay and that is valid and I am not bad or wrong for being upset about the story I've read, and neither are you.

But that doesn't mean the story doesn't have value to somebody else. That doesn't mean the story isn't important to somebody else.

What I see most often coming from antis, possibly even including yourself, is an overwhelming desire to protect. They want to keep themselves and others--possibly people they know, possibly hypothetical people they may never meet--safe from being hurt by these stories. And that desire to protect, also, is normal. It's even admirable! The problem, though, the thing that does more harm than good, is when that desire to protect drives people to lash out against things that matter to other people.

There is a difference between actual rape and stories about rape. There is a difference between a story that could theoretically hurt somebody, someday (which is all stories, always), and a story that hurts you personally. And there is a difference between a story that hurts you personally, and a story that is inherently poisonous to everyone who touches it.

We know--absolutely, scientifically, incontrovertibly--that stories about rape do not make people rapists. Yes, even the stories where the rape is there to be sexy. Even stories where the person being raped is a child. Even then. Fiction is not the same thing as normalization; again, there are far smarter people who have written far more extensively on that topic than I, and next time I come across something that goes more into detail on this point I promise I will reblog it. If this really is the thing you're afraid of, I may not be the right person to convince you that this is an unfounded fear, but I know someone out there can elaborate on it.

(Unfounded, which is not the same thing as invalid. My mother's claustrophobia is unfounded; it flares up in many situations where there's no physical threat whatsoever, where she has plenty of space to move and air to breathe. It's still real. It still chokes her. It's still valid, she is not bad or broken to feel that way, and she still can't drive through certain tunnels. The fear is real. But the thing she's afraid of can't physically hurt her, and that is worth knowing in terms of how she deals with it.)

We know, absolutely, scientifically, and incontrovertibly, that stories about rape and many, many, many other things can hurt and even traumatize their readers. Even though the situation you're reacting to is not real and you receive no physical injury, you can still be hurt by it. The key word there, though, is readers. The fact that the horror genre is out there terrifying people who enjoy being terrified for fun does not damage me unless I do something stupid and try listening to the Magnus Archives again and end up tense and miserable and paranoid for the rest of the week. The fact that guacamole is apparently delicious to everybody else in the world does not hurt me unless I do something stupid and order the wrong thing at a restaurant, and end up itchy and miserable with a little trouble breathing for the rest of the night.

The fact that there are, yes, tens of thousands of fics on AO3 in which characters under the age of 18 have sex? It can't hurt you. Those fics do not hurt you by existing. They can only hurt you if you read them. They can only hurt anyone who reads them. That's why there is an 'Underage' tag--and it's worth noting, 'Underage' is a warning, not a category. Nobody wants you to get hurt reading the wrong fic, any more than the sushi chef wants my throat to swell up because I ordered something with avocado. Literally nobody wants that.

The flip side, of course, is that you hating each and every one of those fics individually and as a group doesn't actually hurt me, or anyone else who writes, reads, or enjoys them. By itself. You can hate anything you like, and fic writers can write anything they like, and it all comes out in the end, more or less. Except.

Except that reading fic is always, entirely, 100% opt-in, and online harassment isn't even opt-out. Some antis have a nasty habit of going after writers whose content they don't like; climbing into inboxes and comments sections, calling those writers nasty names, throwing around cruelties and aggression and insults. I know that's not the same thing as simply disliking a genre, or even passively disagreeing with its existence (although disliking a genre and disagreeing with its right to exist are also very different things). I know not all antis do that. I don't know you, anon, but based on the speed and aggressiveness of this response to my last post, I can't help but wonder if you would do that.

And that does hurt people. Just like it might hurt you if someone threw a bunch of content that makes you uncomfortable into your inbox. Including the harasser, actually--because getting into fights with strangers on the internet about things that make you angry, sad, defensive, and upset isn't good for anybody. Including both you and me.

Anyway, after yet another lengthy ramble, let's get the tl;dr response to your ask here: nobody is ever bad or wrong for disliking certain content in their stories, no matter what that content is. You and your emotions are valid. The "overreacting and making things worse" part isn't about what you feel, but what you do with it. Constantly engaging with places where the thing that upsets you will probably show up, even to argue and try to fight it, will make things worse in the sense that now you're spending way more time thinking about this thing that makes you upset and angry, thereby leaving you more upset and angry. Getting together with a bunch of your upset, angry friends to make your feelings everybody else's problem? Makes fandom a more toxic place for everyone else involved.

Don't read stuff that's going to hurt you. Don't make other people read stuff that's going to hurt them. That's the whole thing, really.

[marwritesgood]

Trying | O. Diaz

Pairing: Oscar x Martinez!Reader

Timeframe: Mid Season One

Summary: Oscar realises how badly he messed up and tries to fix things between him and Y/n.

masterlist - PART ONE

A/N: I changed the timeline of the show a bit and some of the details a bit. Just one more part after this one!

I had spent the following days ignoring Oscar’s countless calls and text messages. I found it convenient he only knew how to contact me when he wanted talk to me. Especially when, for the first week he was back, he didn’t say a word to me apart from our interaction when I dropped Cesar off.

I was enjoying having space from him, as hurt as I still was. However, I found myself having to see him again when Cesar asked me to drop off the last of his things. Normally I would have made him come and pick it up himself, but ever since Oscar got back he had been keeping a close eye on Cesar.

“Y/n,” Oscar huffed when he opened the door to me.

I looked away and clutched the box of Cesar’s things closer to my chest. I could tell he hadn’t slept for a while. His eyes were sunken and his beard had grown out to the point where it was unruly. Nonetheless, I told him I didn’t want to anything to do with him, and so I was gonna stick by that.

“I’m so glad you’re here-”

“I’m not here for you, pendejo,” I muttered harshly at him with a straight face. I then shoved past him and walked into his house. It was messier than normal. Placing the box on the coffee table, I turned back to Oscar who was sheepishly quiet. “Cesar asked me to drop off the rest of his things.”

Oscar coughed uncomfortably as I opened the box and pulled out sheets of paper; Cesar’s medical certificates from the past four years. When I looked back at him, he held the back of his neck, confusion washing over his expression.

“I didn’t realise he stayed with you the whole time I was gone.”

“Hmph-” I scoffed. For a man as smart and as calculating as Oscar was, he could be really clueless at time. I shook my head and sighed in annoyance. “You trusted me with him, remember?... Unlike you, I actually have a sense of loyalty.”

“Y/n-”

“Why else did you think I dropped him off when you got here?” I asked incredulously. It was comical at this point. How little attention he paid to the things I did for him. Taking Cesar in was only one of many. “’Cause it sure as hell wasn’t that hyna you slept with last week.”

I didn’t mean to be so snide but I had a lot of pent up anger. 

“Y/n-”

Before he could mumble another empty apology, I handed him the papers in my hand before explaining to him what they were. From the confused look he had when skimming through it, I could tell he needed the explanation.

“Those are Cesar’s medical certificates from the past few years,” I began, before fishing through his box for the epipen I got him. Once retrieving it, I handed it to Oscar who still looked confused. “That’s his epipen. He’s never had to use one himself, but he knows how to... just in case. We found out last year that he’s allergic to shellfish.”

He flipped onto the next few pages, nodding silently as I explained what was written. 

“Him and Ruby broke their arms that month,” I explained when I noticed the date written on the page he was reading. I suppressed the smile threatening to appear on my lips when I remembered the ridiculous situation they were in that led to their injuries. “It should be fully healed, but just in case he injures that arm again it might be important.”

“Uhm-” Oscar shook his head, dumbfounded, before turning to me, expression still ridden with confusion. “How did you-”

“The doctor I take Ruby to is a family friend,” I interrupted. “I started taking Cesar there too when he was staying with us... If he ever needs to see one, just let me know and I can take him.”

Oscar nodded sheepishly, before putting his hand down. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before turning to me again; his expression apologetic.

“...Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I shot back in an even tone. My love and adoration for Cesar was not going to be a leeway for him to try and charm his way back into my life. “Cesar’s always been my family. This is just what you do for the people you care about... Maybe you should try it some time.”

“Y/n-”

I rolled my eyes and turned towards the corridor. The last time I walked down that hall was when Oscar was leading me into his bedroom. I missed the way he was that night, but I was sick of waiting around for that version of him to appear.

“Cesar,” I called out. Within a minute, Cesar’s bedroom door shot open and he made his way over to me, a grateful smile apparent on his face. Granted, it had been a while since I last saw him. After greeting me with a hug, I opened up the flaps of the cardboard box so he could see what was inside. “I brought the rest of your stuff... If you need anything else just call me okay?”

“Thank you, Y/n,” he praised, before lifting the box up to eventually take back to his room. I smiled and wrapped my arm around his shoulder, pulling him in for a side-hug.

I contemplated hanging around for a bit longer, but I knew it was best to leave as soo as Cesar got his box of belongings. The longer I stayed the more I risked having to talk to Oscar for longer and I knew better than to let that happen.

As angry as I was at him, I still cared too much. Sticking around would not only risk another conversation, it would risk me forgiving too easily like I always used to do. I didn’t want that anymore.

***

A few days or so later, Ruby had asked me to make some food for him and his friends. Normally I would have pried him on what was going on before agreeing to do so, but I was grateful to have something to keep me busy.

I tried so hard not to think about Oscar, but it wasn’t exactly easy forgetting someone I spent most of my whole life with. He sure made it look easy. 

“Olivia,” I called out to my pseudo-cousin and handed her the bowl of nachos I had made. She took it from me and awaited my instructions on where to put it. “Place this on the table please?”

After she did so I turned back to the rest of the food I had made. I had tried so hard to distract myself, I ended up making enough food to last the rest of the week. 

Nonetheless, I knew it would be put to good use. Not only because of how many people lived in my house, but also because of how many people walked in and out of it like it was an alleyway.

Ruby and Jamal were on the couch rambling on about taking precautions for future litigations, whilst Monse and Jasmine were just walking out of Olivia’s room. The two of them came and helped put the rest of the food out, which prompted Jasmine to fill the uncomfortable silence with uncomfortable commentary in her own infamously unique way.

“Y/n, I heard how you kicked Spooky to the curb-”

“Jasmine,” Monse scolded. 

Ever since the kids heard about my falling out with Oscar they made it a point not to bring him up in front of me. I appreciated them for doing so, but I also didn’t mind hearing him be brought up by Jasmine, because I knew she would have something snide to say about the way he acted. I could always count on her for that.

“What? I just wanna say good for you,” Jasmine said, smiling at me as she draped her arm around my shoulder. “Ain’t no Santos gonna come up in here and treat our girl like shit- Y/n knows her worth.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, because I knew Jasmine was being sincere and I really appreciated her backing me up in such a vocal and vivacious manner. 

“Thank you, Jasmine,” I smiled, before placing the bowl of ceviche on the table so I could give her a hug. 

Jamal and Ruby stood up from the couch, eyes widening when they saw all the food laid out on the table. Ruby picked up his phone to check his messages, before turning back to the rest of us.

“Cesar’s almost here.”

After a moment, police sirens sounded throughout our block. Normally we wouldn’t think much of it since this was a typical thing for Freeridge, but when we could hear helicopters, we knew something serious was happening. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. 

Ruby went to open it and I kept a close eye on who was there. When he pulled it open, I saw Oscar and Cesar standing at the door, each with a bowl in their hands.

“One of the homies got shot,” Oscar explained before walking in with Cesar.

I cursed under my breath, knowing this meant we all had to stay inside until the cops said it was okay to leave. This meant that Oscar would have stick around for an indefinite amount of time. 

“I brought guacamole,” Cesar explained as he handed me the bowl he held. 

I smiled and accepted it graciously, before greeting him with a hug. Ever since he got jumped into los Santos and went from being affiliated to becoming a member, he didn’t hang around my house as often as before. 

“Thank you so much, Cesar,” I replied, making a point not to look Oscar in the eye who stood awkwardly beside Cesar, as if he was waiting for me to acknowledge him. When I moved past him to get the jug of lemonade I had made, he stood to face me from the opposite side of the kitchen bench.

“I-I brought ceviche-”

“I already made ceviche,” I fired back, before going back to the table and placing the jug of lemonade on the table. 

“We can just have more ceviche then.”

“Some of us are loyal to one ceviche,” I replied, knowing that at the point I wasn’t talking about ceviche. In all honesty, I was grateful he brought more because I missed his famous ceviche, but I would never admit that.

“Huh?” 

Oscar was not catching on, but from the quiet snickering in the back, I knew the kids had already picked up on what I was referring to. 

“Some of us don’t just eat one ceviche then throw it away so we can eat another... but of course you wouldn’t think the same.”

He didn’t have anything to say in response. 

“Why don’t we just start eating?” Ruby suggested. He seemed both concerned about me and eager to diffuse the tension. 

“She didn’t mean anything.” Oscar seemingly had other ideas and took an awfully long time to come up with a response. I narrowed my eyes at him warningly, but he continued. “Lo prometo, Y/n, it didn’t mean anything and if could take it back I would.”

“Well you can’t,” I retorted.

The kids moved to where the sofa was, not wanting to get in the middle of what was on its way to becoming a screaming match. 

“Tell me what you want,” Oscar said in a pleading yet aggressive tone. I scoffed and shook my head as tears began to brim in my eyes. “Just tell me how to fix this, and I’ll do it-”

“You can’t fix this,” I yelled, frustrated not only by how angry he was making me but by how simple he was making out the situation to seem.

“Don’t say that-”

“No, shut up,” I shouted, causing the kids’ eyes to widen in shock. Almost everyone on our block was terrified to so much as raise their voice or make eye contact with Oscar, but I wasn’t everyone else. “You’re the one who slept with another girl. I’m not gonna stand here and tell you how to fix something you did- figure it out for yourself.”

I couldn’t bear being around him for much longer, so I stormed off and locked myself in my room. I didn’t come out until I was certain that Oscar had left.

***

The following day was Halloween and my mom entrusted me with my twin siblings. Ruby and his friends had told me they were planning on heading out to Brentwood, so I told them I would drop them off and take the twins on a different route within the same neighbourhood.

“I’m gonna take the twins down there,” I explained to Ruby, before turning to the rest of the kids. “Be safe and be back here before ten.”

They all nodded before proceeding to go their separate ways. 

Ruby had devised a plan to maximise the amount of candy they would have by the end of the night and, knowing him, he would throw a fit if the others didn’t follow it accordingly.

Once I started heading down the pavement with my siblings clutching onto each of my hands, I felt my phone vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. Letting go of Luis’ hand, I pulled out my phone to answer it, only to hear my mother asking me a million questions at once.

“Yes, ma,” I groaned, subconsciously letting go of Luisa’s hand as well to get a better grip of my phone. “Yes we’re fine... We’ll be home soon.”

“Are the twins okay?”

“Yes,” I droned, growing annoyed at how much my mom worried even though I had been looking after my younger siblings for most of their life. This changed, however, when I looked down and realised that not only had I let go of both their hands, but they were nowhere in sight. “I gotta go, Ma, I’ll see you at home.”

In hindsight, it wasn’t wise to keep the fact that I lost my twin siblings from our mother, but it was my first instinct. Somehow, I knew I would eventually find them in a neighbourhood I had rarely been to prior to that night.

“Luisa!... Luis!” I called out, but to no avail. Suddenly the thought of something bad happening to them began to sunk in and I began to panic.

I spent the following half hour calling their names as I ran along the streets of Brentwood. It wasn’t until I reached the end of a cul-de-sac that I saw a familiar car and realised that they were sitting on the bonnet.

Running down the street, I shoved my way past a crowd of people who looked like they were coming out from the house that the familiar vehicle was parked in front of. Once I got there, I realised the vehicle was in fact Oscar’s car, and that it was him standing by it while my twin siblings sat on his bonnet and appeared to be taking turns as playing games on his phone. 

Oscar looked up and saw me running, an expression of relief apparent on his face. Luisa, who had just finished having her turn on Oscar’s phone, also looked up and got off the bonnet so she could meet me half way.

“Gracias a dios,” I murmured under my breath as I held my baby sister close to chest. After I got to Luis, I placed Luisa back on the bonnet, before inspecting them both to see if they were injured in any way. “How many times have I told you not to run away from me.”

Luis handed Oscar his phone back before hugging me. The two of them mumbled an apology before getting back on the ground.

“You found them?” I asked, looking pointedly at Oscar, who nodded.

“I saw them sitting on the pavement on my way here,” he explained quietly.

“Thank you,” I whispered gratefully. He smiled before nodding again.

We hadn’t spoken since the day he came to my house. If he was still confused on what to do to make me not angry with him anymore, this was a pretty good start, but I wasn’t planning on telling him that. 

Somehow, I felt he knew.

When the kids came out from the house, I took Ruby, the twins and Monse in my car, while Oscar to the other three in his. We agreed to meet back my house so the kids could split the candy they had which ended up being a lot, because apparently Oscar had scared the shit out of a white boy.

“I can’t believe you lost the twins,” Ruby said in a whispery yet judgemental tone. In his defense, the last time he took care of the twins, I scolded him for making Luisa’s sandwich incorrectly. 

“Can we just agree not to tell mom?” 

Ruby nodded instantly.

Once we got home, the kids ran inside to split the candy up, and I carried my younger siblings, who had fallen asleep on the car ride, inside and onto their beds. Afterwards, I went back outside to Oscar, who stood leaned against his car door. He looked deep in thought until he saw me approaching him.

“Thanks,” I said, not looking at him directly. I could see him beginning to smile in the corner of my eye. “- for finding the twins and for driving out to Brentwood for the kids... Olivia told me what happened.”

He nodded, chuckling softly as he thought back to the kid he most likely scarred for like tonight. After a prolonged moment of silent, he looked up and faced me, watching me intently as I stared into my house- smiling as I watched the kids freak out over the tower of chocolate bars they had to themselves.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n,” he whispered. I turned back to face him and I nodded once. I was tired of being angry at him. Just as well he was finally starting to act like the Oscar I knew and loved.

“I know,” I replied softly. 

Oscar smiled gratefully. No snide remark. No sarcasm. No glaring. He seemed relieved that he was finally making some progress at fixing things between us. 

And then he went and fucked it up.

Before I could register what he was trying to do, Oscar began leaning towards me, his hands finding their way onto my waist much too quickly for comfort. Just as our lips were about to touch, I wormed my way out of his grasp and took a step back.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked. He looked confused. He had been doing a lot of that lately. When he didn’t respond, I felt my anger towards him returning. “Oscar, do you like me like that or do you not?”

He remained silent.

“Because you kissed me the night before you left, then you came back and slept with someone else.” It felt good explaining to him why I was upset in the first place, but also frustrating that it wasn’t already clear enough.

I was grateful he found my twin siblings. I was grateful he stood up for the kids. Neither one of those actions, however, made clear to me whether or not he still liked me the way I liked him and I was sick of waiting around for him to let me know. 

“I thought if I pushed you away, I’d be able to keep you safe.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion. Oscar being a Santos never proved to be an issue when we were friends, I couldn’t understand why all of a sudden I needed to be protected.

“I didn’t think I was gonna get locked up, Y/n,” he explained with a pained expression. This was the first time we really talked about what had happened to him. “-but shit happened, and I lost my freedom for 4 years. I don’t want shit to happen and for you to get hurt because your involved with me... I’d rather go back to prison than let that happen.”

I should have known. Behind every stupid mistake Oscar made there was always an honourable reason. A noble logic. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel relieved and almost touched that his actions were motivated by his love for me. But something was still not sitting well with me.

“Wait, so what you were gonna do after you kissed me? Just go back to treating me like shit so you can protect me?”

“I- I don’t know,” he spluttered, shoving his hands in his pocket and scratching the back of his neck.

“Oscar, I appreciate that you’re just trying to look out for me,” I whispered. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, knowing that I had more to say. Knowing things weren’t going back to normal just yet. “But you don’t get to just kiss me when you want and then ignore me when you want... I want more than that... I deserve more than that.”

Tears began to brim in my eyes as I felt a lump come to my throat. Oscar inhaled sharply, acknowledging the truth in what I was saying.

“So what’s it gonna be?” I asked, hoping with all my might that he wouldn’t pick the option that would hurt me the most. 

“I just wanna keep you safe, Y/n,” he answered, eyes knitting together as he spoke. I knew he meant what he said. I knew that he was speaking from his heart, but that just wasn’t enough. I needed more.

“That’s not a real answer,” I stated sadly.

I slowly turned around and walked back into the house, leaving Oscar out in the cold yet again.

NEXT PART

[chequeredwhitpost]

Episode / Chapter 2: [Arcadia’s Most Wanted] >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Episode Two (A Filler) 

[STA: Arcadia’s Most Wanted]

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(10: 23 AM) 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

He’s late. How dare he. I have snacks and everything set up already for our hang out, and as long as Jake stays in his room-- which he probably will, playing video games– –  we can eat our snacks and play our guitars, enjoying the down time we have together. Let's see, I have set out dips, dip chips, some sweets, and popcorn.

The music equipment is set and ready to go. Now all I’m waiting for is Douxie to arrive and set things into motion. As I hear a knock on the door, I set down the TV remote and get up to answer it. As I open it I find Douxie on the front porch holding up a skateboard in his arms.

He waves to me with an awkward smile, which I politely return.

“Hey, Douxie. You’re late.” I smirk.

He rubs the nape of his neck awkwardly and chuckles.

“I had a hard time getting here. Let’s just leave it at that, yeah?” 

I shrug, “If you say so.” 

Welcoming Doux inside, he carefully takes off his guitar case and takes out his electric instrument. I look at mine, sitting perched against the wall in the corner. 

“So what do you want to do first?” Douxie asks. 

 I shrug my shoulders and motion to all the snacks.

“Did you bring your appetite?” I chuckle.

 He rubs his hands together excitedly, staring at the amount of snacks and food. 

“You're darn right I did! I rushed straight over here and didn't have time for breakfast!”

“I thought you said you were going to set an alarm?” 

“Didn't pull through…”

 I sigh, pushing the bowl of popcorn closer to him.

“Eat up.” I say. 

Douxie looks at me gratefully before digging his hand into the popcorn. 

“You're a real lifesaver, you know that?” 

 I laugh softly to myself, perking my hands on my hips. 

“Yeah, it's kind of my thing.” I joke.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 (Time/Skip)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

As we're tuning our guitars, we are both trying to come up with a song we can play a duet with in each other's company. We've had a few good ideas, but none that’ve really stuck.

 I fix the flat note on my string and tighten it into the right cord. 

“There we go, that should do the trick.”

"It really helps when we have a lot of time to practice, doesn't it?”

"Yeah no kidding. But at least I'm good at something now.” I laugh.

I stand up my guitar after being done with all the tunings. Looking over to see how well he's doing, I find that Douxie is just about done tuning his as well. We share a glance, but only a quick one, before we turn our heads away with flushed cheeks.

“It's really good to see you again.” Douxie admits softly,

I twirl my finger through my hair, sort of sinking into my chair, feeling mushy and goop-y inside. Don't know why though…

"All right, dove, what song do you think we should do first?”

I strum the notes on my strings, playing them in harmony as I hum a note, trying to think of what to play. It's been a long time since we've seen each other. Lately, I've developed a taste for AC/DC.  I think it's just me though, hah. 

"Do you like any rock?”  I asked.  

"You mean like bands?" He asks, confused.

 It's kind of cute. When he gets flustered, or confused, or grumpy  grumbly. He squints his eyes and puffs out his cheeks like a toddler would. The occasional nibble of the lip. But if you ask me, I like it. It’s cute. 

 And it's the face he's making now. I can't help but laugh, giggling at the sight of his goofiness. As Douxie continues to face his hunger, stuffing his face with popcorn and dip and chips, I plop down beside him on the couch, letting a yawn escape me.  It's only 10:30 in the morning, cut us some slack! 

“Yeah. I like a couple.”

“Which ones?” 

“Let’s see… Papa Skull, obviously. Kiss, I guess. String-Time, and AC/DC.” 

“Wait, so you like AC/DC too?” 

He hums a yes. Douxie smiles and points at the bowl of popcorn,  "This is delicious...!”

And then he proceeds  to try all of the other snacks. I reach my hand in for a cookie from the jar and he lets me take two. Just. Two. A heavy sigh escapes me, as I try to get in some bites too before it's all gone. But he wasn't kidding. He is starved. I guess I should change the subject now. I go back to thinking of a song we could duet. 

“Well, how well do you know Back in Black?” 

“By AC/DC?” 

He shrugs, “I’ve played it a few times.”

“I know it’s not really a duet song, but nonetheless, it’s fine if we’re just switching off.”

“Right.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a smile. We put on the background instruments for the song and get ready to start. Douxie takes a breath and closes his eyes. The music starts to play and he waits for his cue.

*Tap*   *tap*   *Tap*   *tap*   *Tap*   

When Douxie starts to play the music, he flows in so rhythmically. It’s… actually quite impressive. I tap my foot against the floor, nodding my head to the beat, breathing perfectly in sync with the melody and tempo. 

I hear my cue coming up and place the pick against the first note. I support back up shredding where it’s needed and he strums it out in the zig zag pattern. I take the switch, quickly jumping in at my point and playing through the rest of the song. I catch his glance as the finale requires a bit more shredding. He plays the background notes and I own the song. Well, at the most, I rock it. I end on that final shriek and strum it off. 

Looking over at Douxie, we share a smile and let out a cheer of triumph as the song ends. I reach over and we high five, laughing together. I notice Douxie scoot all the way down the couch, sliding up on right next to me. He puts his guitar aside and rests his hands in his lap. 

“Man, I forgot how good our duets felt!”

“Yeah, we used to do them back when… With your lute and my harp. Haha.” 

“Hah! Yeah, though back then our duets were a lot softer than they are today.”

“Oh, by far.” I snicker. 

After putting my guitar aside, I rest my head on the back of the couch, and let out a content sigh. When Douxie’s hand rests on my leg, I look over at him and see his eyes beaming with happiness. He smiles and places his hand on top of mine. 

“You know, I really missed you.” He says softly. 

“I… missed you too.” 

He scoots a bit closer, now my leg is pressing against his. He lets out a breathy chuckle and gently bites on his bottom lip. He looks away from my gaze and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“You know, I’ve waited a long time to see you again. All this time we’ve been… ‘apart’, there’s been something that I realized.” 

My cheeks dust a faint pink as he captures my curiosity.

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

“That the last time I saw you, I should have done this.” 

He looks me straight in the eyes before leaning in and kissing me. I tense up out of a natural reaction-- a million thoughts running through my head. I think of why I’m feeling my heart racing with joy. I think of how Mary and Darci are going to react when they hear about this. I think of how I should be reacting. 

So many thoughts run through my mind that I don't even realize that I’m kissing back until he nibbles on my bottom lip. That snaps me out of it real quick. I hesitantly pull away after enjoying the kiss for a moment longer. But then, a heavy confusion kicks in at my center.

I press my fingers to my temple as a bit of a headache starts to form.

“Wait, wait, wait… You like me?” I steer.

“‘Like’ is a bit of an underrated word for it…”

“So… you love me then?” I ask, not getting it.

He squeezes my hand firmly, as to reassure me. 

“That I do.” 

My eyes widen as it all starts sinking in.

“Oh no, I am never going to hear the end of this from Mary…” I mumble to myself.

“What’s that?” He questions.

“N-Nothing!” 

Douxie sighs and lets go of my hand. He reaches for the guacamole and tortilla chips and goes back to eating. 

“Doux? Are you… Ok?”

He shrugs, “I’m starting to think that I just … had my hopes up a bit too high.” 

“What? Why would you say that?” 

“Because I’m not getting the vibe that you like me in the same way that I like you. It’s ok if you don’t honestly…” 

I click my tongue, making up my mind.

“Douxie.” I say firmly. 

He looks at me and I take the guac and chips away from him, setting them aside. Then, I meet his gaze and slowly lean in, that way we can both process it as I land my lips on his. 

I reach my hands up and cup his cheek, as well as his neck. There’s enough time for us to both enjoy what’s happening. He lets out a heavy breath as we continue to share the kiss. But I start to pull away, now that I have his attention. 

“If we decide to start dating, I have one condition.” I note.

“So, you would want to date me?” Douxie asks, winking at me. 

“Don’t start getting cheeky with me, mister.” I titter. 

“Ok, ok. What’s your condition?” 

“We keep this under wraps for now. I’m really not ready for Mary and Darci to blab to the whole school that I do actually like you.” 

He chuckles, giving me a sly smile. 

“I think I can live with that.” He says in a hushed tone. 

I grab his hand this time.

“Then that’s all I got. So, Douxie? Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” I ask, smugly. 

He laughs, “Shouldn’t I be asking you out?” 

“Eh, screw tradition.” 

He brushes his thumb over my knuckles back and forth, before giving in.

“Yeah. I’d love that, Arya.” 

“Ok. Then it’s settled.”

I smile something goofy and we both lean in once more, sharing a third and tender kiss on this day. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

(Time Skip) | 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I’m sitting with my back to the couch arm … in Douxie’s lap. He really insisted with all them happy hugs or whatever. And then-- well, and then… --- and then he scooped me up and laid me in his arms. I know. It looks worse than it actually is. It really is nothing! But … with his arms wrapped around my back, and me sitting in his lap sideways, it looks really really bad.

I sigh, which Douxie notices. 

“What’s wrong, Arya?” He asks.

“It’s only been two hours… And you’ve already imprisoned me in your lap, locked within your arms.”

He gives a mockful laugh, “Imprisoned you? Is that what we’re calling it now?? Hah! I’m not forcing you to stay put you know.” 

He smirks, resting his arm around my waist. Giving a rather challenging gaze, he starts leaning closer, until our foreheads press up against. He chuckles before kissing my cheek. He’s very affectionate, that much I’ve figured out by now. But I suppose having to wait just about as long as a millennia will make one really … expressive towards the one they fancy. 

I hum a soft note and bring my hand up to cup his cheek, gazing into his wonder-filled amber eyes. 

“You’re such a goof.” I mark. 

“I suppose I am.” He grins, “Do you like goofy?” 

“I like you for you.” 

He looks over at the guacamole and chips and stares at them. I scoff and reach over, passing them to him.

“Thanks…” 

“All you had to do was ask.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

End Chapter 2 // Arcadia’s Most Wanted (Filler)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 81

“Everything’s ready outside” walking back inside the kitchen, he was met by a spoon full of homemade guacamole “taste! Needs a lot more garlic, doesn’t it?” she puffed a strand of hair out of her eyes looking a little bewildered. “It’s absolutely perfect..” he licked his lips and then looked at the kitchen counter with a million pots, pans, bowls with the most delish food “wooow, wait a minute, you’re cooking up a feast and it’s just a little evening with friends” grinning he took another scoop of the guacamole. “I know but..no, I don’t know, I just thought it’s easier to talk with some good food..oh I still need to make the mozza bowls, arrghh” she spun on her heels but he grabbed her arm “will you just chill? You’ve done more than enough so you go take a nice shower, make yourself even prettier than you already are, I’ll take all this outside in the meantime..oh and stop being nervous, they’ll adore you, trust me”. He pulled her in his arms to plant a soft kiss on her lips that got too deep too quickly “stop it, I’m sticky” she pulled back, waving her fingers covered in guacamole and tomato sauce in front of his face, which was his queue to slowly put two of her fingers in his mouth, ohhh god, erotic much? She already felt her stomach tingle “Oh no you don’t, I know what you’re up to mister, no way, you’ll just have to wait until your bedtime”. That sexy, silly pout of his, walk away now or find yourself shoved against a kitchen counter while he takes you from behind, just the thought of her body being completely owned and possessed by him had her all moist, “Ok ok ok, I don’t like it, but ok” he let her fingers slip out of his mouth and reluctantly let go of her. “Good boy!” she quickly wiped her hands on a towel and hopped on out the kitchen, Jared had a grin from ear to ear until she was out of sight and was met again by a kitchen that looked like a bomb had exploded, sighing he opened the dishwasher door, it’s only fair, she cooked, you clean.

Hair, outfit..hmm, I don’t know, should I wear th.. her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell, ok leave it, it is what it is, you did your best, nervously she walked down the stairs, Jared was on his way to open the door when she walked down, wowww, she looked absolutely breathtaking. “You look..gorgeous” he smiled up at her, the fact that his friend were on the other side of the door completely forgotten about, “thank you! Uhm floppy hair, your friends are waiting” she giggled. “Heellooo sexy” a skinny, dark haired girl jumped in his arms, purring in his ear, a few friends he said..god, I hope there’s enough food for everyone, she took the last steps and slowly walked up to the bunch of people trickling inside. Should I introduce myself? Stop being so awkward De Robiano, just smile and act confident with the emphasis on ‘act’, “you must be Jared’s new flame” one of the girls noticed her standing behind Jared, “I’m Harper Coco, nice to meet you” she extended her hand, too formal maybe? I’m just not a hugger. The girl lifted her eyebrow at Jared like this was probably the most awkward way that she had been greeted in her entire life, yep Harper, you fucked up, what was it your mother said ‘you can never make a first impression twice’?. But after a few seconds she took Harper’s hand and lightly shook it, ugghh fishhands, Harper uncomfortably pulled back her hand, luckily Jared saved the day “alright alright, you know the way, we’re in the garden” he pointed at the back of the house. “You ok?” he whispered as the gang headed towards the back of the house, “yep, I’ll just go get the bottles” she smiled but he could see the nervous clench in her jaw, “it’s gonna be fine, trust me” he kissed the tip of her nose.

By the time every guest had a drink and something to eat, it was an hour later and the excited conversations were flowing around the table, with all her walking in and out there was only one spot free tucked away at the end of the table. Plopping down on her chair, she took a sip of her wine and tried to follow the conversation, but they were all so wrapped up in each other that she couldn’t get two words in, Jay looked completely in his element though, talking and laughing. Stop stressing, just enjoy the moment, enjoy your man who is in his element like you’ve never seen him before, she leaned back, lit up her cigarette and took a sip of her wine, the weather here reminded her of those Italian summer evenings in a way but did she warm up to LA yet? Nope! Not really, this just wasn’t her home..yet..would it ever be? Come on, make an effort, your man calls it home, then surely you can too. While the rest of the table was reminiscing about previous tours and things only they could know, the guy on her right gave her a friendly smile “so, how’s LA treating ya?”. She gave him an equally friendly smile back “I’m still trying to find my way round I guess..it’s not New York, that’s for sure!” he had really friendly eyes and seemed pretty genuine which was so refreshing in LA-la land. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I don’t think we’ve been introduced, I’m Harper Coco” she extended her hand which he grabbed and gently shook “Oh you’re right, sorry, I’m Cooper..I’m with Marie-Lou” he pointed at one half of the twin sisters who are curling around Jared. “Aha..” she looked to get a better look of the girl but nah..still ordinary, oh for crying out loud Coco, stop it, for all you know she might be the sweetest woman alive “..and what does Cooper do, besides being Marie-Lou's boyfriend?” she turned her attention at the man again, “I work for a local art dealer”. Her head shot up, he really had her attention now “oh! You buying or selling? Contemporary or classic?” she took another drag of her cigarette, “I’m a buyer and I also scout new talent, shame that you signed with Charles already” he gave her a coy smile “your work is so, so..amazing!”. What?? A fan? “you know my work?” she said genuinely surprised, “know your work? Oh Harper, you really are too precious, how can anyone not be a fan of your work? everyone in the business is asking where Charles has kept you hidden for so long? Your work is such a breath of fresh air..it’s shocking and relevant and completely..” he rambled but paused to find the right words “new..it’s unlike anything anyone has ever seen before”. A warm blush crept around her cheeks, she never knew what to do with compliments of this magnitude “Uhm..thank you”, she wanted to shout at him that she was in a complete panic now that all her inspiration seemed to have dried up but she kept her cool and gave him a grateful nod instead.

”Excuse me a second, I think everyone is ready for a second round of drinks and nibbly things” she got up from her chair, oh come on Jay, get up for a second and help me, talk to me, I just want a few minutes with you, but he didn’t even notice, too wrapped up in his conversations. “Need some help?” Cooper spontaneously got up as well and followed her back to the house, in the kitchen she started rummaging through the fridge, taking out a huge pitcher of L’americano cocktail and then started taking out what seemed like a hundred different bowls of delish food “oh my, a crazy talented painter and a cook as well, Jared is a lucky man”. She never was good with compliments and this man was full of them “thank you, you’re too kind, but why don’t we take all this outside and then you have to tell me all about your job” she blushed and stammered as she handed him the pitcher. Walking back to the table with her hands full, she stopped behind Jared’s chair “Jay, can you make a bit of room and take these?” but he didn’t seem to hear her and the tray was getting really heavy. “Jay?” she kicked his chair a little to make him notice her but like this afternoon he was too wrapped in his bubble of friends, and it was exactly the same girl, Chloe?? Who had to make him aware that she was standing right behind him. “Oh sorry, didn’t see you there” he turned in his chair to take the tray from her, maybe she’d expected him to say something sweet or pull her against him for a second but there was none of that, trying not to look too frustrated she hurried back to her seat. “Try not to stress, I get the same thing with Marie-Lou, she forgets who I am when this bunch gets together, I only decided to come along when I heard who Jared’s new girlfriend was” Cooper shrugged when she sat down again. “I’m not stressing, anyway, let’s talk about you and your job” she quickly pushed a piece of bruschetta in her mouth.

”She’s awfully quiet, isn’t she? She didn’t even try and engage in the conversation” Chloe put her arm on Jared’s back as she stared at Harper sitting by the pool while the party was just getting started. Jared felt so lightheaded, he had way too much to drink “Harper? Oh Chloe, you don’t know what you’re talking about, she’s just got a lot on her mind..she’s been through so much with her family..and she’s still getting used to LA”. Chloe shifted in her seat not too convinced “whatever, just sounds like she's a lot of work, to me..anyway, come on old man and dance with me” she shot up, grabbed his hand and started yanking it. “No, leave it Chloe, I’m gonna check on Coco” he got up but then he watched her get up too, putting her phone to her ear she hurried back to the house, “oh come on, let her take that call, in the meantime you and I are gonna hit your cute improvised dancefloor right now” she pushed him in the direction of the pool. “We haven't talked since..well you know since that horrible night, you didn't return any of my calls, and I can understand why but believe me I've been so worried about you, I just wanted to see how you're holding up?” her brother's voice wurmed itself into her ear, why did she have to pick up? Sighing she sat down at the bottom of the stairs “I moved to LA..to get away from..them” she nearly puked the word “she's..gone way too far, Arno..listen, I know that you're trying to keep me part of the family but you're wasting your time..you heard what she said, she doesn't consider me a part of the family anymore so there's no real point in calling me”. This was a night to forget as soon as possible, who am I kidding, these last couple of days..this whole idea of following her lover to LA was something to forget all about as soon as possible, “you're still my little sister, Coco, that will always make you part of my family..how's LA treating you? And Jared, how is he?” he was determined to keep their conversation going. “Jared has been nothing but kind to me..LA on the other hand..” she pinched the bridge of her nose, no don't dive into all these negative emotions, just try and keep a cool head about it, it's only been days..oh god, I miss New York, I miss getting inspired. “Jared is great, you deserve each other so much, and as far as LA is concerned, it's just a city, and it's only been what? A couple of days? Give it a chance, you've lived all over the world in the past, surely LA will grow on you just like the other countries and cities did” bless him, he was trying to lift her spirits, whether it was working was a whole different matter. “I know..” she sighed, “and how's the painting going?”oh no, straight to the sore spot, “fine..just fine..” she lied, but he was having none of it “ok, out with it, Coco, what's going on?”. Harper bit her lip, should she? “nothing, just a little painter's block, nothing major” oh all those little lies, that is so not you Coco “listen Arno, I've gotta go, there's a party going on here tonight and Jared's gonna start looking for me soon, so..I'll call you next week if that's ok for you?”. Arno was very understanding about it so after saying their goodbyes, she threw the phone next to her, so glad she could stop lying, sighing she put her head on her crossed arms, oh Jared it would be so nice if you would actually come looking for me right now..but you're not are you? Just goes to show how different we really are, you have a life and I don't and boy did the truth hurt right now.

[mychemicalimagines]

Happens Like That-Jim Halpert-Chapter 2

Summary: Jim Halpert and Melissa Ford have been best friends since he started at Dunder Mifflin in 1999. Now that a camera crew is following the employees around so they can film a documentary, do they finally tell each other their feelings? Or do they just let them go? Either way, what will become of these two best friends? 

Warnings: Cussing and Smut in later chapters.

Words: 4890

Tag List: @you-a-southpaw-doll @elskinner45 @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

A/N: I love that you guys are liking this. Please leave comments on what you think. If you guys don’t want me to finish this, I won’t continue. If you would like to be tagged please message or submit an ask.

Melissa’s POV - Same Day, Just Later in the Evening

By the time I get home, half an hour has already passed since I clocked out and left work.  I’m still going to Jim’s house but I wanted to change into something more comfortable. I walk upstairs to my room and change into a tank top and a pair of jeans before I look in the mirror. I brush my hair quickly before putting on a pair of sneakers.

I smile when I see how good I look, and feel proud of myself. I make sure everything is in place and that I look comfortable and ready to hang out, but also making sure I don’t look like I tried too hard. This isn’t the first time I’m going to Jim’s  house. About a year after he started at DM, we started hanging out almost every day of the week. 

We have our routine, doing things we both enjoy. And, most of the time, as long as we’re hanging out, we’re doing something we enjoy. He’s just about the only person I hang out with. Mondays, we sit together and watch basketball, nine times outta ten, it’s at his place since he has the DVR and the bigger TV. 

I’m not a huge basketball fan, but I watch the Philly 76ers with him so we have a chance to hang out. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve come to understand certain things about the sport and appreciate it ‘cause it means I get to spend time with Jim. Since I’ve started getting more into basketball, Jim has offered and has been teaching me how to play for going on three and a half months now. 

It’s been fun, and I might’ve not been the best at the beginning, but I’m getting better! Tuesdays...well, those are our taco nights. We get together at my house and make tacos, usually watching a movie afterwards. Sometimes, we try new types of tacos, or we stick to the good old fashioned ones, like beef tacos, which just so happen to be my favorite, with some guacamole on the side. 

One time, Jim suggested that we try shrimp tacos...let’s just say that didn’t turn out too well and we ended up going to taco bell that night. It was a learning experience, to say the least. Fridays are our movie and dinner nights, with us switching houses every other week. One week it’ll be my place and I pick the movie while he picks what we’re having for dinner. 

The next week, it’ll be at his place and he picks the movie, leaving dinner up to me. This week just so happens to be a little different. I couldn’t make up my mind on what I wanted for dinner, so we agreed I’d pick the movie and he’d get dinner, but we’d still have it at his place. After our movie ends and dinner has been cleaned up, we usually spend the night at the other’s house, just sleeping, nothing more...yet... hopefully one day. 

If I stay at his place, he offers me his bed while he sleeps on the couch. I felt bad the first few times, but he assured me it’s ok. At my place, he insisted I keep my bed and he sleeps on the couch. We do this every Friday night  because on Saturdays we go to the local bar and have a few drinks. And it’s better to go to one destination and be safe than go to two and possibly get hurt in one way or another. 

So, I guess technically, we spend two nights a week together, but we don’t ever cross that line. Yet. The other days of the week are random. Usually, it just depends on how tired or busy we are after work. Sometimes, we’ll hang out, and other times, we’ll just part ways at our cars and go home or run errands or whatever it is we need to do. 

To be honest, if I’m not with him, I usually just stop by McDonald’s or something, grab a bite to eat and go home to take a nap. I have no idea what he does when we’re not hanging out, but it’s ok. I stop at BlockBuster and grab the last copy of the movie he talked about wanting to see today. As I drive toward his house, I see a flower stand on the side of the road. 

I smirk to myself and pull over. Last week, Jim came over for Taco Tuesday and brought me some flowers. It was a really sweet gesture and made me smile. Now it’s my turn to return the favor. I turn off my car and step out, making sure I grab my keys and wallet. Walking right up to the stand, I take a look at the different types of arrangements, colors, and floral designs. 

After a few minutes, I pick up a little thing of cute flowers and walk over to the sweet looking, little old woman running the stand. 

“Oh what’s the occasion?” She asks as she rings up my flowers.

“Just getting a friend some flowers.” 

I smile, and hand her a slightly faded, and worn, ten dollar bill that’s more than enough to cover the cost. She nods, takes the money and hands me my change. I put it in my wallet before grabbing the flowers. Getting inside my car, I make sure the flowers are safe in my passenger’s seat, not before starting my car. 

I drive for ten more minutes to get to Jim’s house, before I carefully pull into his driveway since there’s a big dip at the end of it. The city says it’s to help with water runoff when it rains so it lessens the chance for the roads to flood. His car is usually parked on the left and my car will be parked on the right, just like it is today. 

He joked the other day that this was my parking spot and no one is allowed to park here. And I mean, no one. It doesn’t matter who they are. If they’re not me, then they can’t park here. Jim’s rules, not mine. Last year, Jim had a small BBQ and invited everyone from work. Michael showed up a little earlier than I did and Jim made him move his car before I got there. 

No one understood why it was such a big deal. The big deal was 1) it was my spot, and 2) because I was more than likely sleeping over that night. I did sleep over, but I made sure to help him clean everything up since I helped him cook the night before. That was what kind of, officially, started us staying at each other’s house on a somewhat regular basis.

I turn off my car and grab the flowers from the seat next to me. I step out and  grab my ‘Sleepover at Jim’s’ duffle bag that I keep in my back seat. I hold the flowers behind my back and walk toward his front door. I have no idea why I am so nervous. 

I’ve been here a million times in the last 5 years! I put my duffle bag down and knock on the door. A few seconds later, Jim answers.

“Mel!” He smiles, seeming to be almost shocked it’s me and not someone else.

“Who else?” I giggle and all the nervousness washed away, just like that. I lean against the doorway and ask, “Who else could it have been?”

“The delivery guy. I was hoping the food would get here before you.” He says. He notices my hand behind my back and looks a little confused. “Umm, what is that?” He points.

I smile widely and pull them out. “Daisies.”

He chuckles. “Is this because I brought you sunflowers?”

I shrug and giggle as he lets me in. He grabs my duffle bag for me and I walk straight into his kitchen. Reaching  into one of his cabinets, I grab one of the small vases that I know his mom has probably given him over the years. She has a habit of giving him flowers at least twice a year - Valentine’s Day, ‘cause she feels everyone deserves flowers and she knows he’s been single for a while,  and his birthday. 

The flowers on his birthday have been a tradition since Jim’s grandma died when he was little. She’d always give him a couple flowers on his birthday and his mom kept the tradition up. I fill it up with water and put the daisies inside. He walks in right as I set the  vase on the counter and turn around to face him. 

***

Diversity Day

Monday morning, I’m the first one in the office. This isn’t necessarily rare but being here before Dwight got in was. Dwight is usually always the first person in the office. Yesterday, though, Michael called me and asked for me to be in the office at eight instead of nine. At first, I had no idea why he’d have me come in an hour earlier, but I didn’t question it.

I now know it is because a gentleman, from corporate,  by the man of ‘Mr. Brown’, is going to be coaching us through what Diversity really is. He’s also gonna tell us what we can and can’t say about races and such while we are in the office. We all know the reason is because Michael can say some things that are counted as racist, sexist, and even homophobic at times, and not even realize it. 

I sigh to myself and hang up my jacket. I go into the conference room and start putting the chairs out for everyone.  Should I put one out for Jim or is he going to stand today? I decide to put one out for him just so he has a chance to sit this time. I hear the door to the office open so I glance out the door. 

When I see Jim, I grin from ear to ear and wave him over to where I’m at. He drapes his jacket over the back of his chair and walks to me.

“Hi.” He says, his voice still laced with sleep, as he flashes me a smile.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Late night?” I tease, knowing we both stayed up late last night, texting about random stuff. Mainly about me having to get up early in the morning and that’s why I couldn’t go watch the new Star Wars movie. 

He chuckles slightly and nods. “I thought you could use some help.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and leans against the doorway.

“Well...I could use the help moving the table.” I point over my shoulder at the table in the middle of the room.

“You got it!” He says, walking over and grabbing one side of said table.

I grab the other side and we lift the table. We walk it over to the side of the room toward the windows and set it down slowly. 

“Thanks. I didn’t wanna have to drag it over.” I giggle slightly. 

He smiles. “It’s no problem, Mel. What else do you have to do?” 

After another half hour of moving things around the room, and getting everything set up, he helps me put up a banner that Mr. Brown sent over. The banner says ‘Diversity Day’. Hopefully the room is the way he wants. Just as Jim helps me down from a chair, the front door opens. Jim and I walk out into office around to see who it is. 

A middle-aged, nice looking, in the sense he seems nice, African American gentleman walks in.

“Hello.” I say, sweetly. “How can I help you?”

“I’m Mr. Brown. I’m doing a lesson today?”

“Yes! Hi, I’m Melissa. I’m Michael’s Assistant!” I put my hand out and he shakes it, smiling.

He looks at Jim. “And you are..?”

“I’m Jim Halpert. I’m one of the Salesmen here.” Jim says, putting his hand out for Mr. Brown to shake. 

“Nice to meet you,” He says, and looks in the conference room where Jim and I just finished everything.

“Wow. You guys did that?”

“Yeah. We came in early to make sure you had room and-” I start saying.

“It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

No One’s P.O.V.

He walks into the conference room and starts setting up the items he brought. About an hour later, everyone arrives at the office, and Michael walks up to Mr. Brown.

“Hey, uh, can I help you in here?” He asks, clearly not really interested in helping.

Mr. Brown looks up, “I’m all set, thanks.”

Michael nods, “Gotcha, good. I’d go with the rows. Good idea.”

“Oh, Melissa and Jim set that up. I’m setting up the papers and the rest of the stuff I brought.” Mr. Brown says, before turning back to the table.

Michael nods and walks out. He pats Jim on the back and gives Melissa a thumbs up. They both smile and Jim continues his sales call.

“That's the thing. It's very sturdy paper and on the back it says, ‘100% post-consumer content.’ What?” The sound of a shredder is heard throughout the office, making Mel look up. “Hello? Uh-huh. Wait. What? I'm sorry, Mr. Decker. I think I'm losing you.” Dwight is shredding all his old paperwork he doesn’t need, at a most inconvenient time nonetheless. “Hello? Hello? Yeah. Hold on one second. I don't know. Hold on one second.” Jim puts the gentleman on the other end of the phone on hold and looks at Dwight. “Do you really have to do that now?”

“Yes I do! I should have done this weeks ago.” Dwight says, putting another piece of paper into the shredder.

Jim takes the gentleman off hold. “Mr. Decker, I'm sorry about that. What were you…” Dwight puts another paper in the shredder. “Can you hold on one second? Yeah, just one second. Thanks.”  Jim reaches over and flips the switch on the power supply, making the shredder shut down. “Hello? That's it. Perfect. So what I was saying…” 

Dwight reaches over and pushes a button to end the phone call. Mel’s eyes widen, not actually believing that Dwight just did that to a customer, or to Jim for that matter. 

“Hello? Thanks, Dwight.” Jim sighs as he puts the phone down.

“Retaliation. Tit for tit.” Dwight says, smirking a little.

“That’s not the expression.” Jim says, sighs. 

The roaring of the shredder starts once more as Dwight pushes the button on the power supply again.

“Well... it should be.” Dwight comments, as he continues to shred his papers.

Jim sighs and looks up when the camera guy pats his shoulder. 

“Hey, come do an interview.” He says.

Jim nods and stands up, pushing in his chair. He glances up at Mel and rolls his eyes. She giggles and looks at Pam.

Melissa’s POV

“I’m going to go talk with Michael about what is gonna happen with my wedding and stuff, okay?” She asks.

“That’s fine. I’ll be here. Checking emails.” I smirk, pulling up Solitaire on the computer.

She giggles, walking around me, toward Michaels office. I start playing Solitaire and when I’m halfway done, Jim walks out of the conference room and straight over to my desk. He leans down, resting his cheek against his hand. 

“Solitaire?” He asks.

I nod. “Freecell.”

He watches for a second and then points. “Six on seven.

“I know. I saw that.” I tease but don’t move the cards.

“So...then...why didn’t you do it?”

“I’m saving that ‘cause I like it when the cards go ‘t-ts-ts-tch-tch-tch’.” I giggle as I move another card on the computer.

“Who doesn’t love that?” Jim chuckles slightly. 

I blush and continues to play my game when Pam walks back. Jim hears his phone rings, he runs over and answers the phone call.

“Mr. Decker! Hello!”

Michael walks out of his office, a few minutes later, with Mr. Brown walking out of the conference room. Michael walks right over to Oscar and starts to talk. Mr. Brown tells Michael he’s ready for us.

“Oh hey, well, diversity, everybody. Let’s do it. Oscar works in...umm  Jim? Could you wrap it up please?”

I look confused as I grab my usual notebook. Doesn’t he want Jim to get this sale? This is one of Jim’s biggest sales. He should be able to finish it. I stand up and walk over to Jim’s desk as Michael goes walks toward the conference room but stops and turns back.

“Yeah, uh, Mr. Decker, please.” Jim says, glancing up.

Michael glances at the camera as he speaks to Jim. “It’s diversity day, Jim. I wish every day was diversity day.” He flashes a smile at the camera.

Jim sighs. “You know what? I’m actually going to have to call you back. Thank you. Sorry about that.” He hangs up and stands.

I whisper. “I’m sorry, Jim.” 

He just puts his hand on my lower back and ushers me toward the conference room. I smile a little at the feeling of his hand on my back. When we get to the conference room, we head to where we normally sit, closer to the back corner and by the windows that look into the main office area. I sit down and Jim sits to my left. 

A few minutes later, Mr. Brown collects the cards he had us fill out. 

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Great.” He murmurs, politely, as he collects the cards from each of us.

“Come on, people! Let’s get ‘em in! Get in the cards! Get in the cards!” Michael says, clapping his hands together in an attempt to hurry us along. 

Mr. Brown on the other hand is soft spoken, and very patiently with us. Once he has all the cards collected, he puts them together and then tucks them in with his stuff. He turns to face us, addressing us in a still much softer tone than Michael’s.

“Thanks for filling these out and I promise this’ll be quick. At Diversity Today, our philosophy is about honesty and positive expectations. We believe that 99% of the problems in the workplace arise simply out of ignorance.” Mr. Brown starts. 

Michael cuts him off from the rest of his speech.

“You know what? This is a color-free-zone here. Stanley, I don’t look at you as another race.” He points to the only other African American in the room.

“Uh, see this is what I’m talking about. We don’t have to pretend we’re color-blind.” Mr. Brown says, looking over at Michael.

They start arguing over ignorance of the situation and I glance over at Jim. He leans back in his chair and puts his arm around me, resting it on the top of my chair. I open my notebook to a blank page. I reach and grab a pen I have attached to the notebook when a hang reaches out. I look and see Jim grabbing the pen before I could. 

Because he is right handed his lines are messy, but he draws a tic-tac-toe board. He puts a messy X in the middle of the board. I giggle quietly and takes the pen from him. I put an O in the top right corner. He stares at the board before taking the pen and putting an X in the middle left box. I smirk to myself and takes the pen. 

I put an O under my last one, cutting off Jim from winning. He breathes hard from his nose and stares at the board. He grabs the pen and puts an X in the top middle box. His eyes widen after realizing what he has done. I giggle again quietly and takes the pen before putting an O in the bottom left corner, marking me as the winner.

I glance up and sighs when I hear Kevin citing something. I realize he’s horribly butchering the Chris Rock skit that Michael tried to impersonate the other day. I shake my head and sigh. This is going to get bad quick!  Michael cuts off Kevin from the Chris Rock skit, and tried to recite it himself. Mr. Brown tries to stop him. 

He does so by trying to cut him off.  Jim’s desk phone starts ringing and he quickly looks over. I look over at him.

“That better not be Mr. Decker,” I whisper.

He glances at me and nods.

He whispers, “It is more than likely.”

“Now, this is a simple acronym. HERO. Uh, at Diversity Today, we believe it is very easy to be a HERO. All you need is honesty, empathy, respect and open-mindedness.” Mr. Brown continues. 

“Excuse me.” Dwight cuts in. “I’m sorry, but that’s not all it takes to be a hero.”

Mr. Brown raises an eyebrow. “Oh great. Well, what is a hero to you?”

“A hero kills people, people that wish him harm.” Dwight says, as if it is obvious.

“Ok.” Mr. Brown stares at him for a minute.

“A hero is part-human and part-supernatural. A hero is born out of a childhood trauma or out of a disaster that must be avenged.” Dwight continues.

“Oh, you’re thinking of a superhero.” Mr. Brown says. 

“We all have a hero in our heart.”

Mr. Brown doesn’t acknowledge Dwight’s comment, but instead picks up a stack of papers from the podium and starts handing them out, while explaining, “Now, I need you to take these forms. This kind of expresses the joint experience we had today. And I need you to look 'em over and sign them as kind of a group pledge.”

I stand up, reaching forward to take a few so Jim and I can get out of here. Michael walks over to Mr. Brown and starts whispering. I grab two pieces of paper and hands Jim one. I sit back down and uses the pen from my notebook to sign my name. I hand the pen over to Jim and he quickly signs his name. 

Standing up, he takes the paper from my hand and walks over to Mr. Brown. I stand and walk out of the room. Jim runs out of the room and quickly over to his desk phone. He picks it up and listens to his voicemail. He sighs and nods at me. It was Mr. Decker. He quickly calls him back.

“Yeah, hi. Is Mr. Decker around? Oh. Well, could you just have him call me after lunch? Thank you.” He hangs up and sighs, leaning back into his chair. 

I reach over and moves his hair from his eyes.

“It’s okay Jim. You’ll talk to him after lunch and you’ll get the sale.” I smile slightly.

“You think so?” He looks up at me.

I nod and sighs when I hear the receptionist phone start ringing. Pam walks quickly out of the conference room and to our desk.

***

About an hour later I’m talking with Pam about her wedding plans when Michael walks out of the conference room. He calls us over so everyone in the room stands up and walks into the office. Jim waits for me. I walk up behind Toby and Jim steps into line behind me.

“All right? Everyone pretty? Come on. Here we go. It’s time. Let’s do some good.” Michael says, ushering us into the conference room.

“Hey, we’re not all going to sit in a circle Indian Style are we?” Toby says, laughing.

Michael says, with a straight face, “Get out.” 

Toby’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry.”

“No this is not a joke, okay? That was offensive and lame. So double offensive. This is an environment of welcoming and you should just get the hell out of here.” Michael says, pointing out the door. 

Toby sighs and turns, gently pushing past me and Jim. He walks out of the room and back over to his desk.

“Let’s go! Let’s do it. Come on. Let’s have some fun, everybody. Here we go. Take a seat. Cop a squat.” Michael says energetically.

Jim and I sit next to each other once again, but I didn’t bring my notebook this time. I am instantly regretting this. I lean back in my chair and cross my arms.

“Uh, thanks for coming in. Um Diversity...is the cornerstone of progress as I’ve always said. But don’t take my word for it. Let’s take a look at the tape.” Michael says leaning against a tv that was rolled in the room. 

He starts the tape and he comes onto the screen, standing in front of our Dunder Mifflin sign. I roll my eyes discreetly and watch tv. I tone out some of video because I know it was going to be boring but I look up when I hear something about Abe Lincoln.

“Abraham Lincoln once said that, ‘If you’re a racist, I will attack you with the North.’ And those are the principles that I carry with me in the workplace.” the video says.

Michael turns off the tv and looks at us. 

“Ok. Questions? Comments? Anybody?” Jim raises his hand. “Jim?”

“Uh, is that it?” He asks.

Michael nods, “Yes. I only had an hour to put it together but I’m going to add on to it later on.”

As time goes on, Kelly leaves, and Michael tries to get us to explain what race and nationality we are. I look over at Jim and sighs. He nods and uncrosses his arms.  He puts an arm behind me resting on my chair as we watch everything that is going on in the office. After Oscar and Michael fight over nationalities, we hear Jim’s phone go off. 

He quickly stands up and runs out of the room.

“Jim! Jim!” Michael sighs and holds up a board with note cards on it. “I have something here. I want you to take a card and put it on your fore-” He notices someone going to look at the card. “Don’t look at the card! I want you to take the card and put it on your forehead. Take a card, any card.” 

I stand up from my seat when Michael walks over to me.

“Take your card.” 

I stare at him for a second. “No.” 

I walk out of the room to Jim’s desk. I hear Michael say something like, ‘Okay..I knew that was coming’. I lean against his desk as he puts down the phone.

“Was it him?” 

He shakes his head no. “Nope. Someone trying to get prices on paper.” He sighs and leans back in his seat again. 

“It’s okay Jim. He’ll call.” I smile. “Come on. Lets listen to how stupid Michaels Diveristy Day is going.” He smiles a little and stands up. 

We walk the few steps to the door and listens in. I notice that Stanley has the card ‘Black’. Dwight has ‘Asian’. Pam has ‘Jewish’. I overhear Michael talking to Pam, who just tried to explain Dwight’s to him. She didn’t do a very good job.

I look at Jim confused. He just shrugs and we continue to watch. After a few minutes, Jim’s phone starts to ring again. He turns and quickly sits down, picking up the phone. 

He talks for a few minutes.

“Mr. Decker, we didn’t lose your sale today, did we? Excellent. Ok Let me just get your..what’s that?” He pauses. I bite my lip in anticipation. “No, we didn’t close last time. I just need your...Oh...W-what code were you given? Oh, ok. That’s actually another salesman here. I can redo it if you want that. Oh, he gave you a discount? No I don’t blame you.” He says goodbye and hangs up. 

I sigh and rub his back. “I’m sorry, Jim.” 

He looks up at me. He opens his mouth to speak but looks down. He stands up, opening his drawer where he kept the champagne bottle and puts it on Dwight’s desk.

“No...” I say, sadly. He just nods and pulls me in for a hug, laying his head on mine.

I rub his back and whisper. “Today’s Monday so I’ll grab dinner and swing by your house so we can watch basketball, okay?” 

He just nods against me. After a few minutes, he pulls away and smiles slightly. He then puts his hand on my lower back and ushers me into the conference room. We sit in the chairs against the window to the office and just listen to the discussion Michael is having. I lay my head against his shoulder. 

Next thing I know Jim is gently moving his shoulder. I look up.

“Hey.” He whispers, smiling.

“Oh, sorry. Hey.” I giggle slightly, moving off his shoulder.

“We can go.” He says. 

“Great.” I smile as I stand up, “I’ll grab dinner and go to your house?” 

“Great.” He stands up.

I smile and walk out, going straight for my desk. I grab my bag and my jacket, walking with Jim to our cars. He waves to me as I get into my car. I close my car door and grab my cell phone. I call the closest Seafood restaurant.

“Hello? Hi, I would like to make an order for Soft Shelled Crab?”

[abiteofnat]

AN ANXIETY-APPROVED GUIDE TO SOCIALLY-DISTANT  DINING IN THE NORTH SHORE

A headline I truly thought I would never write, because I used to be the type of person to leave work, jam myself into an L train packed with people, scroll through my phone while breathing in someone’s backpack, and then get to a busy restaurant to meet friends and dive into food without washing my hands. My entire immune system was chock-full of city scum, and eating indoors with dozens of other people who likely got off an equally full train? Not even a question of a doubt in my mind. Things took a quick and dire turn in May when suddenly I became afraid of everything and grossed out by anything, and after moving home with family I was certain I would never leave the house again. I miss being the fearless gutter rat I used to be, but times are different, and staying safe is key. 

Alas, while my family has been taking quarantine very seriously, we reached a point in August where we all felt “ok” with sitting at a restaurant once or twice a week to feel like we were still part of society and because we all mutually hate cooking. After not being at a restaurant once since March, we nervously ventured out to a local Italian restaurant, sat outside very far from others, and ate pasta that was still piping hot from the kitchen and that didn’t taste mediocre after sitting in a takeout container for an hour. It was refreshing as FUCK. Rose? In a real wine glass? Served chilled? What am I, a QUEEN? 

Ever since we have been carefully dining, only ever sitting outdoors, and carrying packs upon packs of antibacterial wipes and hand sanitizer like actual loons. But safe loons! Being home and enjoying the local restaurants through new eyes and new level of appreciation has made me love them 10x more, even if we’ve eaten somewhere a hundred times before. I am so grateful to have the opportunity to dine with these spots, eat favorite dishes & try new ones, and be out of the house for 1-2 hours on a Friday during these wild times. So, why not share some of my favorite spots?? Maybe you’re also living back in the good ole North Shore, and looking for any excitement at all in the quiet of the suburbs. Here you go. 

1. Mino’s Italian - Winnetka

This restaurant is newer to Winnetka, however it became an instant local favorite and is always, always full. They have a huge patio area with lighting, cozy wooden benches, tons of tables, heaters, and a menu packed with classic Italian dishes done so right. Their Calamari is unreal due to the seasoning and the roasted garlic aioli it comes with for dipping. Their Cacio e Pepe is magically light but still full of cheese and fresh cracked peppercorns, and the seasonal Risotto consists of warm mushroom richness. Their pizza is great to-go as well, and tastes like an NYC slice if you order the largest size. 

2. Pescadero - Wilmette 

Ok to be fair, Pescadero is not somewhere we’ve actually dined AT during the pandemic. We do pick it up quite often though, and it is some of the best carryout in Wilmette. The Fish & Chips is mouth-watering, with fresh fish covered in a seasoned batter that alone is delectable. Their chips (really more french fries) are thin, crispy, and topped with a parmesan and herb dust. DO NOT MISS OUT ON THE FRIES. The Mahi Mahi tacos are excellent and a lighter, fresher dish with broccoli apple slaw and avocado crema, and for fuck’s sake order a side of the Mac & Cheese just to stick a fork in. Pro Tip: You want as much extra tartar sauce as they will give you!!!

* Edit - since I wrote this post a few days ago, we ate on the Pescadero patio and it was delightful. Even though it was 55 degrees, the hot Clam Chowder and Fish & Chips warmed me up real quick. Clam Chowder served in a hot mug = a new fall dinner staple. Will only accept soup in a mug from now on. And, they do have heaters!

3. Depot Nuevo - Wilmette 

I have eaten here no fewer than 3,456 times in my life and every single time I feel like I’m on vacation because the vibes, the food, and the booze are immaculate. Located in an old train station turned restaurant, Depot Nuevo is warm and inviting no matter if you’re inside (pre pandemic) or on their gigantic patio that allows for spaced out and comfy seating. They’ve added heaters for the fall, so don’t worry about being chilly- and if you are, the Pomegranate Margarita will warm you right up. It’s strong, delicious, and comes in a very pleasing traditional margarita glass. I always order the Appetizer Trio as my entree, which has queso fundido (ordered without the chorizo!), guacamole, and ceviche composed of scallops, shrimp, and calamari with vegetables and lime. Usually this comes with tortilla chips as it’s meant to be shared, but I ask for corn tortillas instead and then pile a little of everything in there for the taco of my DREAMS. Do it. Order it. I dare you. 

The staff is exceptionally friendly and have taken COVID precautions seriously, so menus are disposable and everyone has gloves on. They will treat you like family, and they are family to us because we go there so often. See you on Friday, Depot! 

Other good things on the menu are the Fish Tacos, Shrimp Tacos, BBQ Salmon, Chipotle Mashed Potatoes, Cheese Quesadilla (smothered in their salsa verde of course). 

4. The Noodle - Wilmette

Can you tell downtown Wilmette is the place to be? It has truly popped off and the majority of restaurants aren’t serving up your typical “suburbs” food (you know- fried appetizers and burgers and weird salads and overpriced meat dishes) so I am always happy to be out in our little mini city. The Noodle is as classic Italian as you can get, with overflowing ceramic boats of buttery garlic bread, a salad OR soup included with your entree, and no bar- only wine (or beer) if you want a drinky drink. Incredible. I am partial to the house-made spinach linquine with Roasted Garlic and Sun-dried Tomatoes sauce, and the starter salad with house Creamy Garlic Parmesan dressing. Their Tomato Basil soup is also delicious, however I have some suspicion that that soup is the same as the Roasted Garlic and Sun-dried Tomatoes sauce... just served as soup... they refuse to confirm or deny whenever I ask. Either way, delicious. I tried a NEW DISH when we went last week to sit at one of the 6 large tables they have spaced out outside, and let me tell you that the bowtie pasta (not house-made) with Alfredo sauce is THE SHIT. It may be my new go-to when I just want to carbo-load the hecking out of my night. On your way out, get a Pot de Creme to go- it’s the richest, smoothest chocolate dessert on this side of town. 

5. Hometown Coffee & Juice - Glencoe 

Hometown deserves a round of applause for breathing life back into the stuffy grandmother of the North Shore - Glencoe. Between the gorgeous Writers Theatre and countless boutiques selling blouses and hand-blown glass jewelry, it used to only really serve a certain demographic, however Hometown said “let me give it a try” and changed weekends in Glencoe for good. This coffee shop, smoothie bar, bakery, & cafe hotspot is the perfect afternoon spot to grab a drink, enjoy avocado toast, and sit outside at one of the dozens of tables they’ve lined the corner and two streets with. They’ve moved their registers outside so you don’t even need to go inside to order, and the wait staff will bring you your order right to your table to make it as organized and safe as possible. The tables are spread out, the corner it’s located on is beautiful in the fall, and there are lots of good dogs out and about. 

I will say that while Hometown is doing a great job with COVID precautions, the people of Glencoe are a little high & mighty, and seem to think they’re exempt from wearing a mask to wait in line to get their smoothie. It’s irritating that they’re putting the staff at risk and just ignoring state mandates because they feel safe in their little North Shore bubble and because it’s entirely outside, but come on. Be respectful and understand the privilege of these places even being open to serve you, and just wear mask. I hate people. ANYWAY. Love you, Hometown. 

6. Coast Sushi - Evanston 

Ok, so this gem is not open for dining indoors OR outdoors, however they have their carryout system down and their sushi is so, SO fresh and good. I’ve picked up from here a few times and eat time I fall more in love with the flavors and how consistently tasty it is- and with sushi, it’s always a gamble if it’s going to be really good or kinda fishy and old. The Coast in South Loop was a favorite spot for a while, however it has shut down and I am so happy to be able to get my favorite rolls up in the burbs. My go-to order is a Spicy Tuna Maki, Spicy Scallop Maki, Spicy Miso Soup, a side of Spicy Mayo, and a side of Sushi Rice. This sounds odd, but hear me out- I like to mix the spicy mayo into the sushi rice and eat it just like that. It’s. So. Good. Am I gross? I might be gross. 

Anything you get from here is going to rock your socks off, so for your next night in (aka every night lol) treat yourself to some sushi, babbyyy! 

I sincerely hope that we can keep dining outside for at least a few more weeks, and I am absolutely ok with wearing Uggs and a full-on coat to be able to. Just a reminder to keep your mask on when talking to wait staff, be polite, be patient, and don’t be an asshole. You don’t NEED to dine out- it’s a treat- and you should treat it as such. Don’t be a Karen, or don’t leave your house. Those are literally the only two options.

I hope you try somewhere new, whether it’s carryout or dining out, and tell me if you have any favorite North Shore spots I missed! 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

- Natalie

[rmjagonshi]

In For A Penny, In For A Pound - Chp 3

On AO3

Amidst the giggling and affectionate name calling, the toe fish were baked and shredded. The evening was spent eating bland fish smothered with cheese and re-hydrated guacamole. Ford had dug through their cupboards and pulled out a box of chipackers and powdered sugar. They’d used some leftover butter and water to make a crude frosting and had a desert of hobo cookies. Two folding deck chairs were pushed together, an empty bucket used as a table in the small space. The bowl of frosting sat between them, forgotten, as they watched the stars and listened to the sounds of the ocean. With no light pollution from the city, the sky lit up with millions upon billions of stars, all twinkling more brilliant than any light show Stan had ever seen. Even living in Gravity Falls, far off the beaten path, the skies were nothing like they were out on the ocean. Ford pointed out what stars and constellations and galaxies he could remember; holding Stan’s hand and helping him trace the patterns in the night sky.

Stories of Greek and Roman gods and heroes gave way to reminiscing and inside jokes. Ford regaled him with tales of his inter-dimensional travels and Stan retorted with his own sordid history of crime and punishment, and his own experience with the paranormal creatures in Gravity Falls. Though it hadn’t been as detailed or as scientific as Ford’s, Stan had tried keeping a journal of his own to keep track of everything he had learned about physics, and all the weird stuff he’d encountered. He’d been on first name basis with some of the gnomes and manitaurs, part of the reason they had run to the mystery shack when things got hairy at the end of the summer. They were both flopped on deck, a giggling mess by the time either one thought to go to bed. It was fucking magical.

Stan’s heart was light when he curled up into his freshly cleaned sheets. Not even the memories beginning to prickle at the edges of his mind could ruin his night.

“Hey, not to push, but we really are getting’ low on supplies. Think well be alright fer another week or so. Wouldn’t give it much more than that. But it’s up to you.” It wasn’t completely a lie. They were getting low. The ship’s storage could only hold two, maybe three months’ worth of food and water tablets before they had to start stacking cans in the bathroom.

“Yeah. We can hit port. The ‘toe-fish’ as you call them really aren’t that strange. They act like any other species of Atlantic cod, aside from their odd appearance. I think I have enough data to document them. We can head for Ireland starting tomorrow.” Ford had already pulled off his sweater to change and was now hunched over his bunk, straightening the sheets. Stan’s eyes traveled over the scars and ink that littered his brother’s back and arms. He felt his gut tighten and his hands hitched with the desire to reach out and touch them. It had been a long few months before Ford was ready to show Stan the damage the past thirty years had done. Stan knew they were there, knew where each one had come from, but it didn’t make seeing them any easier. Sure, Stan had his own fair share of scars, but they were few and far between compared to his brother.

Stan bit his lip to hold back saying something that really didn’t need to be said. Not at this point. He let his mind drift as he watched the muscles of Ford’s back shift and slide under the raised scars and burns. He was still amazed at how much stronger Ford was. Gone was the lanky teen from their youth. Gone was the scrawny researcher he’d caught a glimpse of that late January day. Ford was muscular, but not overly buff. Lean, like a runner. Legs able to sprint a mile with little effort and arms that could throw a punch to match Stan’s own. It was kinda hot. Intrusive thoughts prodded at Stan’s mind, but he shook his head to get rid of them. Not now. Not ever, but really not now.

Ford turned, picking up the discarded tank he slept in, and caught Stan’s eye. Stan turned his head, staring at the wall to give his brother privacy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…I just…thinkin’s all. Didn’t mean ta stare.”

“No, Stan. It’s fine. I…it helps…sometimes…for you to see them. Helps me be more comfortable in my own skin.” Ford rolled his knuckles and flexed his fingers as he spoke. He smiled and held up his hand, fingers spread. “Of course, you’ve always helped me feel comfortable about myself.” Stan chuckled, giving his brother a shy smile. But it was getting too touchy feely for his tastes. Any way too intimate.

“Yeah. If you’re gonna be made fun of, it’s gonna be about your nerd personality, not how ya look. Besides, can’t be a badass pirate without the badass scars to go with it.” Ford had pulled on his shirt and sat on the now perfectly straightened sheets.

“Stanley, we aren’t pirates.”

“Yes we are.”

“No, we aren’t.”

“Yes, Poindexter, we are. We were in international waters, and took control of the abandoned Iceland research buoy without permission. Ergo. Pirates.” Ford had reworked the buoy’s internal system to act as a satellite sonar beacon. It was bobbing about two miles from their ship. They’d go and pick it up before they headed to port the next day.

“I…” But Ford didn’t really have a response. While the buoy hadn’t been active, it was still Icelandic property. Technically, they had stolen it. Technically, Stan was right. They were pirates. “Shut up, Knucklehead.”

“HA! I’ll get the cloth from port and sew up a nice pirate flag! Unless ya want ta string up our shirts like we did before?”

“No. And you are NOT raising a pirate flag. Do you have any idea what would happen if we ran into the coastguard?”

“Which coastguard?”

“Any! It’s bad enough that I’ve got a criminal record the length of the Mississippi, thanks to you, and you are legally deceased. We don’t need anymore legal trouble.” Ford had curled up under the three blankets he insisted on having to keep warm. Stan, being the human furnace he was, was fine with just a sheet most nights. Hot and cold, the two of them.

“Get some sleep, Stan. We’ll set out tomorrow.”

“Night, Sixer.”

Stan and Ford drifted off with the slow rocking of the boat and the gentle sounds of the ocean waves.

Stan stretched out his spine, letting his back ease into the soft mattress. The boat rocking back and forth with the smallest of motions. He felt warm. The sheet around him growing softer and heavier. He could hear music. Light and unobtrusive. A lullaby. Wait. There were words. Someone was singing? Stan blinked open his eyes to be greeted by a smiling stuffed rabbit. It was tiny and hung on a string above his bed with four other tiny stuffed toys. A mobile. His mom was singing, off somewhere else. But it was okay. She was near. Stan turned his head to see the grey fluff of his brother’s head. Ford was sleeping soundly with six fingers wrapped around Stan’s arm. Stan rolled to his side, facing his brother. With light touches so as not to wake him, he traced Ford’s features. Fingers running over each closed eyelid, trailing back to trace over the curves of his ears. Over Ford’s hairline and eyebrows. Down the bridge of his nose and over the pink parted lips.

Ford’s lips puckered as Stan traced them with his thumb. Ford mumbled, chapped lips catching on Stan’s skin. His eyes blinked open, lashes fluttering. Bright blue eyes stared blearily back at Stan as a sleepy smile spread over his lips. He gently kisses the thumb resting against his lips and nuzzles against Stan’s open palm.

“Morning.” He breathes against the callused skin. Stan grins.

“Morning, Sixer. How’d ya sleep?”

“Mhn. Good. Still tired.” Ford closed his eyes again, pulling the covers up to his neck and pushing his face further into the pillow.

“Heh. We don’t hafta get up. Nothing we gotta get done right now.” Eh, that wasn’t true. But who was paying attention out here? They could enjoy a late morning if they wanted.

Ford hummed, frowning. “Cold.”

Stan chuckled, holding the blanket up. “Well then, get yourself over here, nerd. I’ll keep ya warm.”

Ford shuffled across the space between them and wrapped his arms around Stan’s torso, burying his face in the soft grey hairs that blanketed Stan’s chest. He hummed in delight, resting his forehead on Stan’s clavicle. His body fit perfectly along Stan’s, hips chest pressed into Stan’s soft gut and hips settling against Stan’s thighs. Stan hummed at the feeling of Ford’s soft cock sliding against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He ran a hand over Ford’s bare side and back. Callused hands sliding over scarred skin to trace along the pudge of a hip, the top of a thigh. Ford squeaked when Stan gripped one ass cheek in his hand and squeezed. Dexterous fingers followed the line of it, up and down, each pass getting closer and closer to Ford’s tight puckered hole. The tip of his index finger pressed against the ring of muscle and worked to ease the tension.

“Stan.” Heavy breaths ghosted over Stan’s chest. He could feel Ford relaxing for him. The ring of muscle contracting and loosening around his fingertip. He circled the ring from the center outward. A slight press and his finger was enveloped in heat. A muffled whine echoed in the room. Stan pressed a grin into Ford’s hairline, still working his finger passed the first ring. It was dry. He wasn’t going to get far, he wasn’t trying to, but it was the best way to get Ford worked up. Light touch, teasing, just fingering the inner ring. Six fingers clutched Stan’s hips, kneading the flesh. Ford was mewling before long. His hips rocking against Stan’s thigh. He was hard, or getting there. He was panting now, hands traveling south to squeeze Stan’s ass.

“Shh. It’s alright. I gotcha.” Stan pressed a kiss to Ford’s temple. Pulling his finger free, he pushed against Ford’s shoulder to roll him onto his back. He placed a quick kiss against Ford’s lips, a soft nip along his jawline, before sucking a trail down Ford’s neck. Lips and tongue danced over pecks, pausing to give each nipple attention. Ford watched him with half-lidded eyes, gasping and wanting. Stan circled each rosy bud with his tongue, nipping at the sensitive flesh and rolling it between his gums.

“Stanley! Uh, huh, uh!”

“Heh, whatcha want, Sixer? Whatcha want yer brother ta do for ya? Just name it.” Stan purred into Ford’s abdomen. He mouthed a line down to Ford’s navel. “Hm? What is it?” He darted is tongue in and out of Ford’s navel, tracing the outer circle. “What do you need?”

“Stan, please!”

He grinned.

He leaned back, just enough to kneel on the bed and get a good look at Ford. Writhing and wanton and aching. Ford was hard and leaking. Prick straining and twitching; the head pulsing. Stan wrapped a hand around the shaft and Ford’s hips came off the mattress with a scream.

“This what you want? Need yer bro to take care of ya? Just ask me, Sixer.”

But no answer came. He looked up, expecting to see Ford red faced and shy. instead, Ford’s face was cloudy and distorted, like one of Mabel’s drawings had gotten wet and all the colors had run together. An answer came then, distant and muffled, coming through water.

“St-n”.

“Wha’, Sixer, what’s wrong?”

“Sta-, pl-se. I’m -orr-. Ple--, don- -o…”

What the hell was going on? They were just getting started. Ford was aching to go, wasn’t he? But...no. Ford wasn’t under him anymore. Least, not the one he was expecting. The sculpted body he’d been worshiping was gone. The form under him, beside him, drifting away from him, was child-like. A kid. Ford was younger now. Ford was just a kid. Scared and crying. Was it him? Was Ford crying because of him? But Ford had wanted it...didn't he?

Oh God.

What if Ford hadn't wanted it? Was he just placating Stan? Was that why Ford was going away? Was that why he was crying?

“Please. I’m so sorry...don’t…” Ford voice grew clearer, even as he drifted further and further away.

“Ford. Hey! What’s wrong? Hey! Sixer! Talk ta me!”

Stan was losing him. Ford had known about Stan's dream. Had figured out Stan had gotten off to it, even though he tried not to. Ford had cleaned his sheets, of course he knew. Genius man he was. He was going away now because he knew Stan was disgusting. Stan didn't even know why he wanted this. But it didn't matter. It was going to end now. He'd do anything to keep Ford with him. He'd never jerk-off again. He'd castrate himself. He'd do whatever Ford wanted if he'd only just stay.

"Ford! I'm sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise. I don't know why it happened the first time, but I swear, never again!"

Ford's voice was getting louder and more desperate. He was pleading. But why? Stan had stopped. He was so far away now. Why was Ford still asking him to stop?

"Don't leave!"

But Stan wasn't leaving. He wasn't moving. Then...Ford wasn't trying to leave. Something was making him.

"FORD!"

“Please…don’t…NO!”

Stan was awake and out of bed before he’d even had the chance to make a conscious decision or even realize he was asleep. His heart hammering in his chest and eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. Survival skills ingrained and hard learned from his tie on the streets kicking into high gear. His blurred vision fell on the struggling lump across the small space on the second bunk.

“STAN!”

“Hey, I’m here. It’s okay. Shh. It’s alright.” Stan knelt on the floor beside Ford’s bunk, voice low and soothing, or as soothing as his smoker’s voice could be. Bed springs screeched under the thrashing, covers tossed and tangled around arms and legs. Ford was panicking. The last time Stan had tried to wake him from a nightmare, Ford had damn near broken his jaw. His jaw throbbed with phantom pain at the memory. But this was a bad one. Stan reached his hand out, soft and deliberate, to curl around one of Ford’s flailing hands.

“Sixer! Ford, common. Wake up.”

Ford shot up with a snap. A fist swung at Stan’s head even as a second gripped his fingers hard enough Stan felt his bones creak. Stan ducked, head and shoulders hitting the mattress and dodging the swing by millimeters. His knees slipped on the smooth floor, and Stan found himself clinging to the bed sheets and Ford’s hand for support.

“Ford, Jeezus! It’s me!”

“Stan?! Oh, God. I’m sorry…I…” But the end of his statement was swallowed up by a heart-wrenching sob. Instead, he rolled off the bed, pushing Stan flat in the space between their bunks, and crawled into Stan’s arms. Stan found himself laying on the floor, ass naked, with his brother curled up tight to him. Ford had buried his face into Stan’s gut, chest in line with Stan’s hips. He was shaking. Splatters of water caught in the grey hairs to pool in his navel.

Stan carded his fingers through the sweat damp fluff of Ford's hair, rubbing his thumb over Ford's temple. Hushed and incoherent words tumbled from his mouth. Attempts to sooth, but not to pry. Ford would talk when he was ready. Maybe. Sometimes they didn't talk about their nightmares. Too much emotion all at once that neither one was ready to deal with. Neither one used to being able to lean on someone when they were having problems. They would get there, but after a lifetime of bottling up their emotions, it wasn't going to happen right away.

So, Ford may or may not talk to him about it. Which was all well and good because Stan was not really up to talking himself. It happened again. He'd dreamt about Ford again. And this time, he was complicit. He'd known it was Ford. Before, he was just enjoying a steamy dream about a hot guy. His subconscious had made it Ford. But this time...he knew. And he still did it. What did that say about him? That he would actually, knowingly...

Stan clenched his eyes closed and willed the memories to go away. Ford was calming down now. Harsh and heaving breath eased, tears all but dried. Ford's heart at slowed, no longer hammering its way through his chest. But he showed no signs of moving anytime soon. Stubbled cheek scratching against the soft skin of Stan's navel. The delicate flutter of an eyelash tangled with the fine hairs.

Stan felt chapped lips part against his skin as Ford sighed. His hand stalled in Ford's hair. He became acutely aware that he was still naked. When Ford shifted to ease the pressure on his back, Little Stan became aware of Ford's position. Little Stan was very interested in continuing where things had left off, even if they were imaginary. Stan was strongly against it, but Little Stan wasn't listening. Stan desperately tried to imagine McGucket in his swimsuit. Or that creepy hand witch. Something, hell anything to make his erection wilt. He felt it twitch, filling with blood and rising to meet the pressure and warmth above it. Stan wondered if he could shift, ease out from Ford's grasp just enough to let the cool air shock his system enough to stop this problem before it got any worse. Ford buried his face in Stan's navel, a deep inhale and shuttering breath heaved out if his lungs. Stan pulse flared. This was way too close to a memory he was trying very hard to ignore.    

How was Ford not feeling this? Stan wasn't really complaining, he didn't want Ford to notice, but he was still confused as to how he hadn't yet. Stan didn't want to brag, but he wasn't exactly small. He wasn't a monster by any means, but a respectable 9 inches was still big enough. Certainly, big enough for Ford to notice that it was pressing up into his chest. He could feel Ford breathing. Every breath brushed against his straining cock. Another deep and shuttering sigh and Stan's eyes crossed, toes curling. NOPE!

"Hey, Sixer. Ya wanna move this off the floor? My back is gonna be yelling at me if we lay here much longer."

Ford said nothing. Just patted Stan's stomach and lifted himself onto his hands and knees. 'Wait. SHIT! NO! Don't do that. DON'T...' But it was too late. Ford's movements had brought him face to face with Little Stan. Little Stan was very happy with the arrangement.

It was dark. Completely dark below deck on the Stan O' War II. There was a chance Ford hadn't noticed. Please, please let him have missed it. But that little glimmer of hope died when Ford stopped dead. Stan couldn't see him, even if he didn't have his eyes closed, but he could fucking feel Ford's breath ghosting over the straining head. And he stayed there. He wouldn't move, get up. Wouldn't say anything. Stilted breaths enveloping Stan's prick in warmth, teasing with a promise that wasn't a promise and he didn’t want it anyway. He almost wished that ship would hit a rogue wave and knock them about. Ford took a breath to speak. Finally.

"I'm..." But that had been a mistake. Ford's lips had moved. He was a lot closer than either one had thought. Chapped lips just barely brushed Stan's leaking head. Stan's eyes bulged out of his sockets when he felt a sticky strand follow the movement of Ford's lips. NOPE!  

A foot connected with Ford's shoulder. Not a kick, but enough force to propel Ford up to his knees and as far away from Stan as they could get. Stan sat up and scooted back until his hands hit the curtain covering the doorway.

"SHIT! Sorry. It can't tell the difference between you and the busty babe I've been dreamin' about. Imma go piss, you sit. We'll talk if ya wanna when I get back." It was all said in one breath as Stan stood and backed out of their shared room. Stan felt his way to the bathroom and flicked on the light. He squinted through the brightness to the toilet, feeling a rush of deja vu as he flipped the seat up. His gut rolled, but it wasn't enough to come up this time. Instead, he braced one hand on the wall above the bowl while the other wrapped around his prick. He squeezed. He muffled a moan by biting the flesh of his upper arm. He didn’t bother trying to clear his mind this time. He couldn't, not with the real memory of...SHIT!

He pumped once, twice, hips following his fist. His mind blanked, body seizing. Sticky white jets splattered over his hand and the underside of the toilet seat. His jaw clamped down on the flesh of his arm to quiet his moans. He couldn't actually break skin without his teeth, but the bruising wasn't going to feel too great either. He felt his knees give out, and he sat awkwardly backwards on the toilet bowl, hunched over the small water tank. His chest heaved. Head spinning.

Stan was still in the shock and disbelief stage of grief. He hadn't had enough time to really comprehend what had just happened. He knows if he does sit with this, he may end up throwing himself off the boat. But he doesn't have to process this. He doesn't have to deal with this. He can shove it down and ignore it. Denial, denial, denial. But he and his subconscious were having a bit of a disagreement as to what was okay and NOT okay to think about. A little voice in the darkest and most depraved pit of his mind remind him that Ford hadn't pulled away. Ford hadn't reacted with disgust. Hadn't really reacted at all, as a matter of fact. Stan pile-drived that voice back to the rancid and perverse pit it crawled from.

But the thought was there now; he couldn't get rid of it. He'd been so close. Ford had been so close to...he'd...no. No. No way! It wasn't intentional. Ford was just as shocked as he was. He didn't pull away because his nerd brain had overloaded. He was just looking for comfort from whatever nightmare had spooked him and hadn't been expecting a hard dick in his face. And Stan had just left him there to deal with it on his own. What kind of brother was he? Stan chose not to answer that stupid question. Mainly because he wasn't ready to deal with the answer. It was fine! It was all fine. Stan's thoughts tumbling over themselves. It was best now to shove all that shit down and bury it under more and more layers of repression. A few tons of self-hate wouldn't hurt either. Just bury it where that shit won’t ever see the light of day again.

He didn't know how long he sat there, ass and thighs going numb balanced on the slim toilet bowl rim. He needed to get up, clean up and see how much Ford was freaking out. Shit! Ford was probably freaking out now. He had to explain. Though maybe the absolute truth in this case was a very shitty idea, but he could come up with a lie. He's good at that. Been doing it far longer than anything else in his life. But it was definitely time to go and figure out what hole Sixer was spinning himself into.

Stan stood on shaky legs, tore a wad of toilet paper from the roll and wiped himself and the toilet seat down before washing his hands. He refused to look at his reflection. Hands dried and all evidence flushed away, Stan was about ready to flick off the light when he spotted a pair of Ford's boxers left tucked behind the door. Comets and planets and little UFO's. Considering how awkward this was gonna be, he should try and cover himself up. Ford had been fine with Stan sleeping nude, but that was in his own bed. Best to make this less awkward. Though, they were Ford's boxers. From today, yesterday? Would that just make it worse? Stan didn't bother mulling it over. He picked up the worn fabric and slipped them on before flicking off the light and stumbling his way through the darkness.  

Stan felt his way along the galley counter, shuffling through his shitty night vision to the far wall. He stubbed his toe a few times on the books scattered on the floor and nearly tore down the curtain when he collided with it. He lifted the curtain and stood in the doorway, hesitant. There was no way to disguise what he'd done. He'd been in the bathroom too long. Ford might be oblivious to many social cues, but it wasn't hard to put two and two together. But he couldn't stand there forever. Time to rip the band-aid off.

"Hey." His throat felt dry.

"Hey." came the reply in the darkness. His ears, sans hearing aid, could only tell him that Ford was off to his left. Ford's bunk was on the right.

Stan cleared his throat. "You, ah...ya wanna talk about it." Stan paused, then corrected himself. "Nightmare, I mean. Seemed pretty bad this time. Could hear ya even in my own dream." Not that he was going to talk about that. Nope. Nope, not that. Never that.

"Heh, at least you enjoyed yours." Ford sighed. Stan could hear shifting on the bunk and he could picture Ford picking at the sheets. "I don't...I shouldn't bother you with this." The bed creaked as Ford shifted to stand, but Stan wasn't having it.

"Hey, no. I'm here if you wanna talk. You ain't bothering me. You never bother me."

"Oh"

"Well, mostly. Nerd talk is still a bother, but not this. Not something this important."

"Stan."

"No, 'cuz it is. You said yerself, we need to stop pretending we don't have feelings." Stan felt his way to the bed, hands patting the sheets to find where Ford was sitting. Hands found one hairy knee and Stan worked his way onto the bed. "So, I'm here ta listen. If ya wanna talk, that is." They sat wrapped in silence and darkness, shoulders rubbing together every so often. Stan blinked, attempting to let his eyes adjust to the dark, but there wasn't enough ambient light to see by. It was all just oppressive blackness. He couldn't even see his own knees.

Ford didn't talk, and so the silence permeated the darkness around them. It pressed in on his mind, and without a distraction, it dug into the layers and layers of freshly laid repression and self-hate to unearth what had just happened. His mind had been given enough time to work through the denial and really get to the meat of it. It was starting to set in what had actually happened. A spike of guilt and despair beat down on his shoulders while revulsion and horror clashed with each other in his gut. There wasn't much in his stomach but bile, but he doesn't think that will matter much. He enjoyed it. That was the worst part. That was the worst part of all of this. He'd wanted it. For a brief moment, he'd wanted Ford to lick....

STOP! Don't. Just, don't. Screw it. It happened, now let it go.

God, he needed to get laid.

A weight slumped to his side shook Stan out of his thoughts. A voice spoke in a harsh whisper right next to his ear. "You were gone. You were gone and there wasn't anything I could do to bring you back." Oh. Stan blinked as Ford continued. "You...", there was a long pause while Ford collected himself. "You left. Told me I made you sick. That you didn't know why you brought me back. Said you wanted to travel without me. That I was holding you back." Oh and damn. Now he really felt like a pile of shit. Ford had woken up panicking over Stan calling it quits and Stan had gone and waved his dick in his face. Stan swallowed down the rising bile and self-revulsion to address Ford’s statements.

“Ford. I’m not…I’m not going anywhere. I would be outta my mind ta want ta leave.” An uncommitted grunt was the only response. Stan sighed. “Stanford,” not a name Stan used often, “I spent thirty years trying ta get you back. All I’ve ever wanted was ta be out here with you. Nothing you could ever do, will make me want to be without you.” Stan leaned his head over, resting his lips atop Ford’s scalp. He could feel the tension drain from Ford’s body. They were pressed together, sharing the warmth and comfort of being close to one another. The bed was big enough, heck there were two beds, they didn’t have to. They were men. Pines men. But it felt nice. It felt really nice, and after the shit Stan was trying to pin down and bury, he was willing to indulge in a little nice. Even better when Ford started rocking from side to side.  

“Promise?”

“Always, Ford.”

“Even if I did something you hated?”

“You could never do something like that.”

“What about if I did something ‘unmanly’?”

“Well, when ya put it like that…” But there wasn’t really an end to that statement. Stan breathed a deep and rumbling chuckle over Ford��s hair, grinning at the responding laugh.  

"Stan..." Ford had placed a comforting hand on Stan's knee. Except it was dark, and that wasn't his knee, and his borrowed boxer shorts had ridden up his thighs. Six surprisingly soft fingers fluttered over the sensitive flesh of Stan's inner thigh for a brief moment before Stan linked his fingers with the offending appendage and lifted it to rest where it ought to be. Six fingers completely enclosed his as they rocked back and forth on the ocean waves.

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[rmg91]

The Woes and Antics of Living Together-18

AAAAHHHH!!!!! I've gotten to another chapter I've been dying to write!!! And while the part I was most excited for didn't come out quite like I wanted (Curse me for never writing things down when they happen five months ago) I still like the way that it happened. I'll admit, I'm a little bit mean to Poppy in this chapter but Branch helps make it better.

Enjoy!

Also Friendship Goals-When you and a friend have similar-ish ideas without talking to each other XD

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3;FF.net

@writerofberk-I feel bad for what I’ve done to Poppy but I also much enjoy the fluff I wrote to make up for it XD

                                                     ~*~*~*~*~*~

The sky was cloudy but bright with a light breeze as Poppy happily walked back to the apartment, Planning Clipboard in hand. A bag a of fresh, blank invitations hung from her wrist, ready to be customized for the upcoming event. Creek's surprise birthday party was coming along and she couldn't be more excited. Of course, everyone knew Poppy always threw her friends' parties, ever since she was young, but the how, when and where was how the surprise came in and boy did she love to throw surprise parties. They were her jam after all! And she had to make sure this one would be perfect for Creek. She was finally going to tell him how much she really felt about him and ask him to be her boyfriend. There was never any rule that said she couldn't be the one to ask and she was tired of waiting.

Poppy flipped through her list of party essentials as she hummed a love song, check-marking things off as she went. Suki had told her the music was set, a mix of songs to dance to and more mellow ones to set the atmosphere. Alongside some of Creek's favorite instrumental scores from movies. Decorations were all gathered, the usual collection of balloons, streamers, tablecloths and fairy lights, with some more unique additives to fit their theme. They had small Buddha statues to set around, lotus flower cutouts to hang up, scented and non-scented candles, a few incense burners and some pretty gem stones to sprinkle around. Next was the menu, which thankfully they had found a happy medium for, tasty but healthy snacks. They'd have various dips, hummus, guacamole and a Greek yogurt one Poppy found a recipe for, with a host of vegetables and baked chips. Dried fruit and nuts to nibble, fresh fruit parfaits, homemade fruit punch and some of Biggie's infamous deviled eggs. They'd also have a few more traditional party snacks and, of course, the six dozen carrot cupcakes Poppy was going to bake. She also had plans to make Creek a full sized cake too.

Last but not least, was the venue and Poppy couldn't be more excited for it. The university had the perfect outdoor area, trees and flowers surrounding an open area that could host tables and decent sized dance area. There was even a covered area, a pretty wooden pergola, built close enough where they could set out the food! Poppy had checked with the school and had luckily been able to rent the place for the night and she just couldn't wait! It would look so pretty all lit up with twinkling lights and candles. It was going to be magical.

Poppy nodded to herself, seeing just about everything checked off, the only things were whatever last minute details that always popped up and of course her present for Creek. She had thought about going along with the Pack's idea of just her being his present but she wanted to gift him something as well. Trouble was, she couldn't decide. She had seen a really pretty incense burner at the shop they got all the stones from but she also knew he had a tiny collection of them, so she felt like she could find something different. There was also the necklace she saw with the small charm of a mandala but Creek really wasn't big on wearing jewelry besides the friendship bracelet she had made him. She could just always find him a new pair of flip-flops, at least that's what Branch had said when she had been brainstorming out loud. Then it hit her! The perfect gift idea! She could make up a basket of all his favorite bath products! Creek always loved to talk about the benefits of good hygiene and Poppy knew long, hot baths were the only guilty pleasure he really allowed himself. It was perfect!

The pinkette made a note about her idea, listing what she'd need to get alongside a reminded to look up some DIY bath-bombs. She'd always wanted to try making some and that just seemed like it would help make her gift just a little more special. Giggling, she danced a happy jig, her excitement and inspiration overflowing before heading inside her building, an invite decorating storm was about to take place!

                                        ~*~*~*~*~*~

Branch was not amused to come home to what could only described as an explosion of paper and glitter. Scraps of construction paper littered the floor around the coffee table, with said surface overflowing with Poppy's collections of craft supplies. Small buckets of shaped scissors, stamps, stamp ink and shaped hole punches were stacked across the far side, various ones Poppy had already used laying loose. Her extensive sticker collection was spread out around her, the folders she kept them leaning beside her on the couch, with a few empty sheets on the floor. There were various types of glue sitting in places and the table sparkled with the tell-tale sign of glitter having been spilled out of its container. A pile of invitations sat completed on the farthest corner, ready to be given out by a smiling Poppy, who was just finishing up another colorful piece of art.

“Welcome home~!” The pinkette sang, grinning up at him happily as he came inside.

Branch had to try very hard not to look away as she flashed that beautiful, happy smile at him. After her little drunk incident, it had been even harder to look at her without blushing but he had promised her he'd try not to act weird around her after that. But it could be so damn hard, she was just too gorgeous when she was in a good mood and it almost, almost, made him want to spill his guts about his affection for her. Add in he could now recall her saying she wanted him well...the last few weeks hadn't been that easy for Branch when he was alone with her. Especially since Poppy had spent a good portion of them planning out a party for Creek.

“Hey.” He finally said back, turning to go find something in the kitchen. What he really didn't know but he couldn't take the risk of just staring at Poppy, “I see you've made a mess of our living room.”

“Oh shush!” Poppy giggled before throwing her arms out wide and shouting, “Art knows no bounds! And invitations won't make themselves!”

Branch rolled his eyes before mumbling, “Could always just get pre-made ones...” Even though he knew she would never, Poppy adored making custom invitations and, if Branch was being honest with himself, he liked seeing her creations. Even if he didn't show it.

Poppy gasped dramatically, having heard him, “Nonsense! I would never!” She giggled before perking up and flipping through her finished pile, “Speaking of...” She pulled one out and scurried over to Branch before thrusting out a colorful, sparkling envelope at him.

“Poppy...” He warned, of course she would try to invite him to the party she was throwing for Creek.

“Please?” She begged, eyes wide and she held out the invitation, “I know, I know. You 'don't do parties' but I promise it's not gonna be a loud, crazy, super amazing one. It's gonna be a little more calm, no flashing lights but still a lot of fun one. Pleeease? You'd have fun~”

Branch doubted that. There was no way he was gonna watch her, and everyone else, fawn over Creek. “No.”

Poppy predictably pouted before she gently shoved the small packet of paper into his hands, “Just think about it, okay? There's time to change your mind.”

Branch wasn't going to but she didn't need to know that. He just took the envelope without fuss and made to go to his room, saying something about having some homework to finish. In reality he was going to add the newest invitation to his collection after opening it. He just hoped she passed on the glitter bomb this time.

                    ��             ~*~*~*~*~*~

The day of the party arrived a few days later and Poppy could barely contain her excitement. She had spent all of the previous afternoon baking and frosting cupcakes, so now she had four dozen carrot cake cupcakes, alongside another two dozen of vanilla. The vanilla ones she had decided to bake at the last minute for some variety and so she could use sprinkles. Sprinkles made everything better. She had also baked up a vanilla bean cake just for Creek and now that it was cool, she just had to work her frosting magic on it but first she was heading to the university. She wanted to get a head start on the decorating before handing off the duty to Guy and Biggie.

Poppy took a look around the courtyard they would be occupying when she got there, grin wide as she pictured how wonderful it would look when they were done. Gathering all the supplies she would need, she stacked all of the streamers, paper hangings, lights, lanterns and all the other bits on a table, organized for easy handling. Then taking a roll of light purple crepe paper, the pinkette looked around for a good starting point, deciding to start with twisting it around the pergola's posts. Once finished with the purple streamers, Poppy grabbed a roll of a pretty aqua green to wrap around the alternating posts and from there started to hang long, twisted rows across the beams. By the time Guy and Biggie showed up, with Suki and her DJ equipment in tow, she had a good base of things started.

Her friends quickly jumped in to help her, so Poppy took a quick moment to film them while they worked before placing her camera back on it's mini tripod. They worked together efficiently after years of doing this and soon they had more streamers stretching overhead with lights intermingling. Suki had her DJ table set up under an awning where it would close enough to hear but out of the way so no one would trip on any wires and Poppy was standing on a chair hanging paper decorations when Smidge rolled in with Cooper. They had the coolers and bags of food with them, so Poppy directed them to store it all inside the small kitchen of the building the pergola was connected to. Said building was part of the Home Economics division and had a few kitchens, one of which they were allowed to use. Once everything was looking like Poppy had envisioned, she left the Pack to complete setting up the tables and such while she headed home to decorate Creek's cake and grab his gift.

Coming home, she wasted no time gathering up the ingredients for buttercream frosting, calling a greeting to Branch who was reading, and threw them all in her stand mixer. Carefully, she pulled the cake out of the oven, where she stored it for safe keeping, and divided it in two. Once satisfied with her frosting, she split it in half and dyed one lavender and the other mint. She then spent the next hour and a half making the cake look how she wanted it. It would have been quicker but she'd wanted to make sure that her crumb coat was fully set in the fridge before continuing, that particular cake recipe was always crumbier than others. She had just piped some frosting flowers around the edge and was piping 'Happy Birthday Creek' on top when she decided to ask Branch again if he wanted to come along.

“Are you suuure you don't wanna come?” She said, focused on her cursive, “It's gonna be fun~”

“Yes, I'm sure.” He grumped at her from his seat in her chair, eyes not leaving his book, “I told you the weather report said it was going to rain today and I am not getting stuck out there in it.” The other reason, of course, was because he didn't want to see Poppy hanging off of Creek and listen to whatever crap the 'guru' always spewed.

Poppy rolled her eyes, setting her piping bag down to gesture outside the window, “It's not gonna rain, Branch! It's sunny and clear,” True it had been a little breezy but that was nothing, “The weather report has been wrong before.”

Branch scoffed, “Still not going and don't blame me when you get rained out.”

Poppy was just about to reply when Satin and Chenille came through the door, “Poppy!”

“We came to get you and save you another trip,” Satin exclaimed, “Are you ready?”

“Just about!” She quickly added a few finishing touches to the cake before sliding it into a box and grabbing Creek's gift basket, “See you later, Branch!”

“You're gonna get rained on!” Was his parting reply.

                                       ~*~*~*~*~*~

After arriving back at the venue, Poppy slipped the cake into the fridge for safe keeping until it was time to serve it before placing her gift with the other few. She then took in all of what the Snack Pack had done while she was gone with a grin. Tables were set up, the white tablecloths fluttering in the breeze, with candles and small flower centerpieces adding charm and whimsy. Some of the incense had already been lit so there was a faint aroma of lavender and vanilla in the air and the lights had just been turned on. Poppy was ecstatic with the way everything looked, especially with the setting sun starting to cast a pinkish glow over everything. Taking her phone out, she quickly snapped a photo to post later before turning to her friends.

“This look amazing, you guys!” She clapped before pulling them into a group hug, “I think Creek's really gonna like it!”

“Oh for sure,” Guy agreed, smirking playfully, “You planned it after all~”

“Stop,” Poppy giggled, “You all helped.”

“But you did the majority of it,” Satin said, wrapping her arm around one of Poppy, “But we'll admit, it needs one more thing...”

Chenille wrapped her arm around Poppy's other, “You to look amazingly stunning~! Come with us!”

Poppy laughed as she was dragged away to the nearest bathroom for a patent Couture twin style up.

                                              ~*~*~*~*~*~

Almost an hour later, Poppy twirled in front of the bathroom mirror, once again impressed and proud of the fashion sisters. They had sewn a brand new dress for her that was a dark aquamarine in color and in the halter top style she loved. It had a sweetheart neckline and the straps wrapped around her neck, leaving her back bare for her tattoo to show. The waistline was cinched slightly under her bodice with a small decorative bow off to the side and it was knee length with a sheer overlay of sparkly organza. Her hair had been pulled up into a higher ponytail with the ends curled so they bounced when she moved alongside the tendrils that framed her face. Her make-up matched with glittery eye-shadow in the same color, light pink blush and strawberry pink lipstick. A matching headband with one silk flower and silver, strappy heels completed the look.

“Girls...” Poppy awed as she spun again, loving the way the dress spun around, “This is beautiful! Thank you so much~”

“You're welcome!” The chirped in unison.

“Now there's absolutely no way Creek won't ask you out tonight.” Giggled Chenille.

“Yes! And we'll all make sure he gets a chance to!” Satin added.

Poppy giggled with a nod, “Right!” She then spun the face them with a clap, “Now let's get out there! Guests should be arriving soon and after that the birthday boy himself! You guys made sure to tell him to meet us here for something right?” It was a safe bet Creek already knew there was a party happening, Poppy was never subtle about that sort of thing but she still hoped it would be a surprise anyway.

“Guy texted him at lunch saying he needed to see him for some school thing.”

“Great!” Poppy clapped, smile wide, “Then let's get out there!” This was gonna be awesome!

When they rejoined the rest of the Pack, Suki had started up the tunes as a few people had already started to show up. Poppy greeted them happily, trading hugs and thanks for coming. She got lots of compliments for how pretty she looked and was even pulled in to some selfies with Guy, since they were both looking gorgeously fabulous. As more and more people began to arrive, Poppy could barely contain herself as she eagerly awaited Creek's arrival, excited for when he'd come to see what they'd put together for him.

The sky was turning progressively darker as time went on, dark clouds moving in and blocking out the few visible stars and the slowly rising moon. Poppy couldn't help but bite her lip as she looked up from lighting a few candles. She hoped they would just blow away soon and that Branch wasn't right about the weather taking a turn for the worst. Her friends tried to assure her it would be alright, if it started to drizzle they could just take the party into the hallway of the Home Ecs building. She had nodded but a tiny knot of worry was starting to form in her stomach, especially when there still wasn't any sign of Creek.

She was trying not to let it show how much she was starting to fret, it wasn't like Creek to miss something without saying anything, when she felt the first rain drop hit her nose. She glanced up at the clouds as more drops began falling, the peppering of rain hitting the sidewalk echoing around her. She and the Pack quickly directed guests indoors before the rain got too bad, snacks  and gifts being grabbed to save them from the water. Poppy hoped it would just a quick little storm, nothing bad enough to delay the party too long but as the rain began to fall harder and faster, soaking all their hard work, the pinkette couldn't help but be disappointed. It also didn't help that there still hadn't been any word from Creek.

Poppy looked down at her phone, hoping to see some missed notification or something indicating Creek had reached out but all that greeted her was her lock screen's picture. She tried not to frown, tried to interact with everyone but as time went on and people started to leave before the storm got any worse, she couldn't help it. It was so unlike him to not say anything, even if he didn't know they were throwing a party for him, he knew they wanted to see him so for none of them to have a message from him...Poppy didn't know what to think. Suki had suggested calling him but before Poppy could try, Guy mentioned he already tried that with the call going straight to voicemail.

Poppy sighed, thoughts and feelings a turbulent mess, “Let's just...call it a night then...” She didn't want to, she hated canceling parties but there was nothing else to be done with the weather the way it was and with the guest of honor missing.

“Pops...” Suki exhaled, reaching out to place a hand on her friends shoulder. She knew how much Poppy had been looking forward to this.

Poppy forced a smile at her orange haired friend, trying not to let it show just how upset she was, “It's okay, Suks'. It's getting pretty bad out there anyway.”

Suki nodded slowly before pulling the pinkette into a hug. Poppy sighed softly and hugged her back, soon enough being engulfed by the rest of the Snack Pack. When they disengaged, Biggie and Guy helped Suki gather her equipment, Cooper went to look for something to store and carry the small pile of gifts, and Smidge went to break the news to the few remaining guests. Poppy peeked outside from the door, looking out into the storm and knowing that they'd have to come back in the morning to clean up when Satin and Chenille approached.

“What do you say to a sleepover tonight?” The younger twin offered, smiling hopefully at her.

“Yeah, yeah! We can give each other Mani-Pedi's, facials, watch trashy romance movies~” Chenille' chimed, hoping the allure of some girl time would help perk Poppy up.

“Ah...” Poppy stalled, not wanting to hurt their feelings but not feeling up to all that, “Thanks you guys but...I think I'd just like to go home...”

The twins shared a concerned look before nodding at Poppy, “Alright...”

“At least let us drive you home?”

Poppy quickly shook her head, “No, I won't let you guys do that. You live almost on the other side of town from where I do and I won't have you out in that for longer than you have to be. I'll just take the bus.”

“But Poppy-” Chenille started.

“Guys, really, it's okay.” Poppy really didn't want to try and explain that she...just didn't want to be around anyone right now. She kind of just wanted to cry really but she didn't want that happen in front of her friends, she was sure it wouldn't help them feel any better about this situation either, so she'd rather have it happen when she was by herself.

The twins frowned and huffed slightly but relented, not liking letting Poppy be by herself tonight. That was when Milton approached, an umbrella in hand, and smiling softly, offered to escort Poppy to the bus stop. She accepted and after another group hug, and promises she'd meet them tomorrow to clean up what was left outside, Poppy and Milton left to reach the bus stop before the next bus arrived.

                                        ~*~*~*~*~*~

Poppy waited for the bus for possibly a little longer than she had to after she waved goodbye to Milton. She had been thankful he hadn't tried to talk her into going home with him and Smidge and had just shared a sympathetic smile before leaving her. She shivered under the awning as she sat there, thinking maybe she should've changed but unable to fix that now. The pinkette stared down at the ground as she waited, frowning at the cement as she hugged herself for warmth. She couldn't accurately describe just how she was feeling at the moment, disappointed that the party had gotten rained out and that all their decorating was now ruined; sad, upset, hurt that the person this was all for hadn't shown up or even called! It was so unlike him too... And the more Poppy thought about it, the more she felt the prickling of tears in her eyes, but she wouldn't cry...not yet at least.

When the bus finally pulled up, she scrambled up the steps and, after disposing of some change, took one of the many empty seats. Poppy leaned her head on the cool glass and listlessly watched the scenery go by, wondering if there had been anything she could've done to change the night's outcome. Of course she knew she couldn't have controlled the weather but maybe she could've been the one to tell Creek to come or maybe even tell him they were throwing a party for him. That would've ruined the surprise sure but...maybe he would've shown up. Sighing, she really didn't know, she closed her eyes tightly to prevent tears from falling as the urge to swelled. She really didn't want to cry here on a public bus, she'd rather wait until she was surrounded by her many stuffed animals and could muffle herself in her pillow.

It was weird to see the streets of town so empty, she thought once the urge passed, the storm having forced everyone home or inside. Poppy watched the rain run in thick sheets down from the sky, the wind blowing it at an angle and sparing nothing from getting drenched. She sighed, wishing for nothing else that she was at home and curled under a warm blanket. Well...she also wished Creek had texted or called or something because it was so unlike him not to and she couldn't figure out why. She knew he wouldn't allow his phone to run out of power or be turned off, it also wasn't like him to misplace it and he would never, ever, just not show up. He always made sure to let someone know if he couldn't make it or if something was wrong. Poppy had worried briefly if maybe he was hurt or had gotten sick but that was silly as he was always safe and was as healthy as can be. There was no way he couldn't have gotten sick, he was fine when she had talked to him that morning.

Sighing once more, the young woman just couldn't come up with a reason as to why he hadn't shown up. Looking out at the dark streets, Poppy noticed a few familiar shops and realized she was close to home, a few more blocks and she could go curl up in her room. However as she was picturing herself cuddling the stuffing out of Fuzzbert 2, the bus started to slow down, with no bus stop in sight. Looking toward the driver, Poppy saw him struggling with the controls before the bus came to a complete stop. The driver tried to turn the bus back on by turning the key a few times but nothing happened.

Sighing, he turned to face Poppy and the two other patrons, “Sorry, folks. Looks like we've run into a little engine trouble. We'll be stuck here until help comes.” He then turned back around to make a phone-call for help.

Poppy leaned back against her seat, frowning, before thinking about what she could do. She really didn't want to sit here... Glancing outside, she knew the thought in her head probably wasn't the best idea but she really just wanted to be home right now. Plus a little rain never hurt anyone. Getting up, she went to the front of the bus and asked if she could be let out here. The bus driver gave her a skeptical look, tried to tell her it would better if she just waited on the bus but she assured him she didn't live that much farther from where they were. Shrugging, he said alright and opened the door for her. Poppy said her thanks before rushing out and under a convenient shop awning.

Bracing herself, she continued to race under awnings and overhangs of shops until she was around the corner and out of sight of the bus. She then took a moment to lean against the side of the building she was by and stare out into the rain. Okay, so yes, this was a bad idea, to walk the rest of the way home in the pouring rain but she was already wet now. Closing her eyes, she let out a little whimper, finally breaking and letting her tears fall. Stepping out into the rain, Poppy let it wash over her, flattening her hair against her skull and ruining her make-up. She really didn't care all that much though, but she did hope the twins would forgive her for soaking the dress they'd made. The dress they had made for her to impress Creek, Creek the person they had been trying to throw a birthday party for, the person that hadn't shown up...Poppy let out another whimper as she thought about everything again, but just wound up more confused and hurt than she had been already. This night had been a disaster.

Finally reaching home, she went inside to the elevator and shivered as she rode it to her floor. She hoped Branch was occupied in his room or maybe even asleep because she really didn't want to listen to him lecture her. Digging out her keys with wet, shaking fingers, she unlocked the door and let herself in.

However the universe wasn't on Poppy's side at that moment as Branch was standing in the kitchen. He looked at her as she came in with wide eyes at her drenched state, hair and dress clinging to her, the flower on her headband dropping and creating a puddle from where she stood. She watched him open his mouth to say something but she held up her hand to stop him, “Please, Branch...just...don't.” She sniffed and hugged herself, head dipping low, “You were right, okay? It rained, enough said, I don't need you to lecture me...”

Branch blinked at her, shocked not only at her coming home so early and admitting she was wrong but also at her body language screaming that something else was the matter. Wanting to ask what was wrong but not wanting to upset her more, he ran a hand through his hair, he was out of his element here, before growling, “Just...stay there.”

He hurried to the linen closet and pulled out two of Poppy's biggest and fluffiest towels before coming back and finding Poppy had only moved to drip on the kitchen floor. Ignoring the way her dress clung to her curves, he wrapped one around her shoulders and after she took hold of it, draped the other over her head. He began to rub the towel over her hair, frowning when she didn't make a noise of complaint. Branch had figured she would be disappointed when the party was ruined by the storm but the way she was acting...something else had to have happened. This wasn't the usual Poppy he dealt with.

When she sniffed quietly under the towel, he couldn't help but ask, “...What happened?”

She was silent for a long moment, and he wasn't going to fault her if she didn't want to answer, when she softly murmured, “...Creek never showed up...”

Branch stilled, unable to comprehend what he just heard but also completely able to believe it. That absolute bastard! Poppy hadn't been subtle with her planning, never was when it came to something for her friends, he had to have known, but for him to not show up?! That was low, even for him. Wanting to go find the jerk and rip him a new one with the sudden, overwhelming urge of protectiveness, Branch's attention was brought back to Poppy as she sniffed again. Taking a deep breath, he'd contemplate what he wanted to do to Creep later, right now Poppy needed to be taken care of.

Carefully tilting her head up so their eyes met, he spoke softly, “Hey, listen to me, okay? Go take a warm shower, nothing too hot or you might shock your body. Then blow-dry your hair, okay? You shouldn't go to bed with wet hair and I am not dealing with you if you get sick.”

Poppy blinked, taken slightly aback from Branch's soft tone but nodded anyway, “Okay.” She then carefully stepped back and shuffled around him to head to the bathroom.

Branch watched her go, concern written clearly across his face before sighing roughly and running his hand through his hair again, there had to be something he could do to cheer her up, right?

                                                      ~*~*~*~*~*~

When Poppy emerged from the bathroom almost an hour later, wrapped in her comfiest pajamas and feeling...well not better, she was still pretty upset but the overwhelming urge to just cry had left, she was met with the sound of whip-cream being sprayed and the delicious aroma of hot chocolate. Wandering back down the hall, she found Branch by the counter, spraying a large dollop of whip-cream into his mug, one of hers sat next it with a smaller dollop flouting on top. Branch glanced up at her and almost dropped the can before smiling awkwardly.

“Uh, hey,” He greeted, rubbing the back of his neck, “I-um..made some hot chocolate.” He carefully held the mug out to her, “We were out of marshmallows though, so I hope you don't mind the whip-cream... I, um, also plugged your phone in and texted everyone you were home.”

Flashing a very small smile, Poppy took the mug gratefully, “That's fine... Thank you.”

“Ah...no problem..” Branch mumbled, feeling just a little uncomfortable doing this, he wasn't use to doing things like this, “I-uh...” He cleared his throat and tried again, “I also queued up a movie if you...felt like watching something...”

Poppy looked over at the TV and sure enough there was Tangled, one of her favorites, all ready to be played. She felt another small smile grow across her face before she took a sip of her drink and glanced at Branch, “I think I do actually. Thank you...” She paused before asking, “Do you...wanna watch with me?”

“Ah, well...” Branch grimaced, hating to disappoint her more, “I actually have to finish studying and writing a paper,” He gestured toward the table that was covered in his text books, “But I'll be out here...”

Poppy nodded and shrugged, “Okay.” She then shuffled over to the couch and, finding Fuzzbert 2 already there waiting for her, snuggled in to watch.

                                        ~*~*~*~*~*~

Poppy watched the credits roll, a soft, content smile on her face as she leaned on Branch's shoulder. He had come over and watched the last few minutes with her which had made her glad. She twisted her head to look up at him, arm wrapping around his in a show of thanks and affection as she thanked him. While she still didn't feel better, she was starting to feel less sad.

“Not a problem,” He answered her, not bothering to remove his arm as he watched the credits. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye before asking, “Want to watch anything else?”

Poppy thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I think I do.”

Branch moved then, getting up the switch movies, “Any requests?”

“Hercules, please.”

The blue haired man nodded and loaded in the movie, joining the pinkette back on the couch before pressing play. She snuggled back into his shoulder, arm wrapping around his again and happily waited as the movie started, all while the storm raged on.

                                       ~*~*~*~*~*~

When Poppy awoke later on, she knew it was later in the night; or early in the morning; and the storm was still going hard, rain and wind rattling the window. The TV was the only light source, casting a dull glow around the living room, the start screen for the movie still showing. She blinked blearily for a moment before realizing she was warm and that her pillow was moving. Glancing upwards, she found Branch sleeping soundly and that she was cuddled into his chest. Smiling, she shifted slightly before crossing her arms and resting her head on them, watching her roommate sleep.

He was the absolute sweetest, even if he didn't want to admit it, having done all he did for her when she came home wet and upset. Grabbing towels quickly for her and drying her off, making her hot chocolate, watching her favorite movies with her until they fell asleep in the couch, it was everything she hadn't known she'd wanted to be done. Sighing softly, feeling content and safe in his arms, Poppy was happy to fall back asleep but not before carefully leaning up and softly kissed his cheek and whispering, “Thank you.”

She then happily snuggled back down, sighing blissfully as Branch unconsciously hugged her tighter to him.

                                        ~*~*~*~*~*~

Morning came and with it's dull, gray light filtering into the apartment, woke the two on the couch. Poppy's eyes fluttered open before she yawned, noticing the storm had passed and was now just a steady pitter-padder of rain. She rubbed at her eyes as Branch shifted beneath her and let out a large yawn himself. He groaned slightly, not bothering to open his eyes and tried to sink farther down into the cushions.

“We've got to stop falling asleep on the couch...” He mumbled, uncaring that his arms were still wrapped around Poppy's waist.

The pinkette giggled sleepily, gazing up at him, “Want some coffee?” After Branch hummed his affirmation, she shifted to get up, placing her hands beside his head as she hovered above him.

Branch opened his eyes then to look up at her with a drowsy expression, “Hey...You feel better?”

“Yeah...” She answered quietly.

He smiled then, something small and sleepy, before unconsciously raising a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Good...Like seeing you happy...Suits you.”

Another soft giggle and Poppy gently nuzzled her cheek into his hand where it rested, “It suits you too.”

Branch snorted before letting his hand fall away and his head lull backwards, grunting, “Coffee.”

Poppy giggled once again and got up, letting her hands trail through his hair as she walked away to start the coffee machine. Humming the tune to 'I See The Light' softly, she filled it with some of their shared favorite brand before turning back to see if he had sat up, only to find he had instead fallen back asleep. Watching the steady rise and fall of his torso, Poppy decided to let him sleep a little longer, it was the least she could do after all he'd done for her. She would always be thankful for that and for having such a caring best friend.

                                              ~*~*~*~*~*~

GUYS! YOUR FEELINGS A SHOWING!

And, Poppy, gurl, you still don't see it yet? Okay, I did that on purpose but still XD Anyway! See told you Branch helped make it better! And Creek's a real creep not even texting to say he's not showing up but that was all planned and we're getting really close to the climax of this fic! I can't tell you how excited I am for that!!! I've been waiting to write these next few parts since January!!!

So I hope you all enjoyed and look forward to the next chapter!!

[bikerfaggot]

Bruce wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Even though the set hadn’t yet started, the room was humid and smelled of cigarette smoke. He hated it. Open amphitheater concerts were what he vastly preferred, but those were hard to come by, especially at this time of year. His November layers lay backstage in a heap, piled on top of his car keys and Steve’s phone.

“Hello, everyone,” their band’s lead singer, who went by the stage name Valkyrie, greeted. Bruce drew himself out of his thoughts, giving the crowd a toothy grin. “We’re Punch Nazis! and we hope you enjoy our show.” She gave a whoop and produced a flask from her belt, waving at Bruce to count off.

He did, his sticks hitting the snare hard for the opening beat. Everything else went quiet in his mind as they played for the fifteen minute set, almost making him forget that this was their audition for battle of the bands. He refused to acknowledge, and by extent, get anxious over—that though, because he didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t make it. Sam and Steve strummed like this was life or death, so Bruce did the same, giving his performance an energy that he was unable to describe. He twirled his sticks between beats, double kicked the bass, and just generally turned things up a notch. Finally, it was over, and he was dripping in sweat, his arms and the backs of his shoulders burning.

Steve leaned in close to his mic and thanked the audience, before encouraging them all to “go out and punch a Nazi tonight.” Bruce smiled and stood, tucking his sticks into the back pocket of his jeans. The band exited the stage together and was greeted by Bucky, Sam’s boyfriend and the band’s occasional second bass. When he felt like it. He clapped Steve on the shoulder, excitement rolling off of him in waves.

“Guys, guys,” he said, waving at Brunnhilde to keep her from continuing backstage. “I think that that was the best I’ve seen you play.” His smile was huge, and Sam had to squeeze his hand just to get him to stop bouncing on his toes so violently. “I’m serious, the judge out there looked blown away!”

Bruce’s eyes widened. “You saw her?”

“Yeah, of course I did!”

He blinked in faux surprise. “Oh, I thought you just stood back here and ogled Sam when you weren’t on stage.” Bucky turned red and pointed a finger menacingly at Bruce’s chest, though he was barely containing a laugh.

“I’ll kill you, Banner. Don’t think I won’t.” Bruce had to bite his tongue to keep from snorting, and the two of them stared at each other in tense silence for a few seconds.

Bucky was alright, Steve had dragged him to one of the first practices and everyone hit it off really well with him (especially Sam). Bruce couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew him from somewhere, though. Maybe he looked like his mom’s brother or something. He hadn’t seen his uncle in years, so maybe that was it. Looks aside, the dude was chill. He could play bass better than just about anyone Bruce had ever met and his stone cold, yet somehow still friendly, demeanor fit in well with the group’s dynamic.

Bruce was the first to break, just as Sam started to hide his laughter from behind Bucky. Soon enough, the band was in happy shambles, the stress from their audition melting away in the hugs and shoves being exchanged. The next audition started, and Punch Nazis! moved farther backstage, where the sound from the set became warped and muted. Bruce liked the way it sounded back there, but it turned out Brunnhilde wanted to check out the competition, so they headed to the house, working their way through the thick crowd.

The band that was auditioning was fronted by a kid in a bright red hoodie who couldn’t have been more than seventeen. They were good, though, and Bruce shifted around on his feet with anxiety as he thought about their chances of beating the other seven bands who would be allowed in. If their band even made it through auditions.

He worried all through the next three auditions, his stomach twisting into knots and his head pounding. Steve gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder and leaned in close, the shitty stadium-style seat creaking loudly as he moved. “Bruce,” he whispered, eyes locked onto the stage, “we’ll make it in. Don’t worry.” Bruce gave a weak smile and nodded as his teeth started to grind together. Better to not get even more anxious, he reasoned silently. He let a shiver rack his body, even though he was still sweating from the heat and humidity in the venue. Sometimes the vibration helped to calm him down. This time the effect was mediocre, but he accepted it and focused his attention on the next band, which was coming on stage just at that moment.

The band was composed of four people with long hair, though only two of them appeared to present as women. Bruce’s anxiety faded into the background as his interest was piqued. The lead singer, a tall, dark skinned man with long dreadlocks, looked into the audience with knowing eyes, his gaze steady even through the glaring stage lights. Bruce got uneasy looking at him, like the man knew every single one of his secrets, so he looked at a different member. She was seated at the drums, her dark hair pulled in a half-up, half-down ponytail. Bruce smiled, though he knew she couldn’t see him, and watched her technique for a few seconds before his eyes slid to the next member. Her hair was inky black and came about to her shoulders, and her acid green bass was covered with the decal of a snake. Her lips were curved in a mischievous smile, again making Bruce feel uneasy.

He blinked.

He had no idea why he all of a sudden was so interested in one of the rival bands.

And then the guitarist started a solo, and Bruce’s attention was drawn in again. He hadn’t even heard the set starting, even when he was watching them all sing or play their instruments, until this. It wasn’t anything too fancy, no, but the solo finally broke through Bruce’s cloudy mind—and ears—to draw him back into reality. The guitar player, with his long blond hair, played like a god through the rest of the set, and Bruce knew, deep in his soul, that he would have to speak with these band members at some point during the competition, even though he was sure that they could grind his average playing ass under their heels.

As soon as they left the stage, Bruce became restless again. He motioned to Steve that he had to go somewhere, and darted backstage before the band could leave. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he got to them, but his heart started to beat faster and faster as he passed crew members taking their instruments off stage.

All of a sudden, he rammed into someone, and his heart stopped dead. It was the bassist, but she had put on a leather jacket since coming backstage. She sneered at him and he blurted a quick apology before stumbling over a compliment about her performance.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Bruce,” he responded quickly. She intimidated him, a lot. “Bruce Banner.” The woman nodded, a smile starting to return to her lips.

“I’m Loki,” she said, and Bruce waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. She just stood there, her eyebrow raised.

“Well, I came back to tell your band that-” He paused, his tongue suddenly frozen. The guitarist had appeared behind Loki, and his bright grin was enough to make Bruce want to pass out right then and there.

“‘That’?” Loki prompted, unaware of the man approaching.

“Oh, uh,” Bruce stammered, “you guys did great.”

She nodded again, practically oozing suspicion. “Thank you, Bryce.” He didn’t dare correct her. He nodded and gave a small smile, turning quickly to return to the audience. Bad idea, he told himself, as the guitarist asked Loki who he was. “He said his name was Bruce Banner,” he heard Loki say, and he felt a pang of confusion. Had she said the wrong name to intimidate him even further?

If so, it had worked.

After auditions, Punch Nazis! was apprehensive. Many bands that they had seen were fantastic, and the band’s insecurity in their sound kept them assuming the worst. The official webpage of the Battle of the Bands was supposed to update with the bands who had made it late the next day, so the members of Bruce’s band gathered in Bucky and Sam’s apartment to have a “depression party,” as Bucky called it.

Steve aggressively shoved his tortilla chip into the guacamole that Brunnhilde had brought as he watched the rest of the group refresh Bruce’s laptop over and over.

“Guys,” Bruce whispered half-heartedly, “you’re going to break her.” He closed his eyes and listened to the excruciating noise of the group slamming their fingers onto the touchpad.

Then, it stopped. He heard a gasp, then someone grabbed him, their fingers almost digging through his sweater.

“Bruce,” Sam said into his ear, “look!”

So he did. And it may have just changed his life.

The first round was held just a few days later, all eight bands crowded backstage of the same venue that they had auditioned in. Bruce was nominated by his friends to check which band they were competing against, but as he approached the paper with the listings on it, he saw Loki again, and froze in his step.

“Ah, hello, Bryce,” she said, walking closer. “It appears that you’ve made it in.”

Bruce nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. She was still trying to intimidate him? “And you as well, though I-” His mouth got even chalkier as the guitarist, yet again, started to walk up behind Loki. “-I knew you would. Your audition was fantastic,” he said quickly, having learned from last time. The guitarist made eye contact with him and appeared to start walking just a little bit faster, though Bruce may have been imagining it. He got there in no time, though, and that was a big problem. Bruce would have issues speaking in front of, or God forbid, to, this man.

“Bruce was your name, wasn’t it?” The guitarist asked, holding out a hand. Bruce snapped back to the moment, reaching briskly to accept the handshake.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s Bruce.” He saw Loki roll her eyes with a flourish of the hand, and Thor’s eyes flicked to her for just a moment before he let go of Bruce’s hand.

“Excuse my sister, she can be quite dramatic, both in the realm of ‘melo’ and ‘over.’” That earned a quiet laugh from Bruce, who suddenly felt the room around them quiet.

Just like a rom-com, Bruce, he thought, smiling up at the still-stranger.

“Oh!” Thor said after a beat. “How could I forget to tell you my name! I’m Thor Odinson, the guitarist in Battle Axes.”

“Bruce!” Steve called out as Bruce made his way back to the group. “Who are we versing?”

Bruce flopped into a worn leather chair and blinked at his band-mate. “What?” He asked.

Brunnhilde stood and pointed at him. “Oh my God, you didn’t even check, did you?”

“Check what?” Bruce murmured, a warmth curling through his chest.

“I’m going to go do it,” she responded, rolling her eyes and marching off quickly.

She returned just under a minute later, her boots resounding dully on the concrete floor. “Guys,” she said, breathless, “we’re on in five.”

Despite almost being late for the very first round of the competition, things were going well. Bruce had a mild splinter from his first set of sticks cracking, but he had pulled another pair out without missing a beat. Literally. After the set, the band met backstage; apparently, a certain other fairly aggressively named band was just finishing their backstage meeting. Thor gave Bruce a thumbs up as Battle Axes took the stage for their performance.

Bruce turned and watched him make sure his guitar was connected to the amp, but his vision was soon blocked by a very angry, alcoholic college dropout. “You could’ve lost this for us, Bruce.” He looked up at her and apologized sincerely, but his eyes wandered back down to the stage, where a man with long, golden hair played guitar like a god. “Oh dear Jesus, Bruce! Was it him?” Brunnhilde seemed angry again, and Bruce realized it was probably because of all of the staring.

“Yeah,” he admitted meekly. “It was. Sorry.”

She sighed and started to walk away, gently knocking her hand on the back of his head. “You can’t date him until we wipe the floor with their band. You got it?”

Bruce got it.

Bruce wiped his brow and set the drumsticks across the rim of his snare, picking up the decorational set and wedging them into the back pocket of his jeans. Final sets were over, and now it was time to be judged: Punch Nazis! vs Battle Axes. The two bands lined up next to each other, and Bruce watched as Brunnhilde smiled at Sif across the stage. Looked like she finally got over the “mortal enemies” thing. He took his chance to look over at Thor before things got bad for one of them, only to see Thor already looking at him. Thor raised his hand in a “call me?” gesture, almost making Bruce laugh out loud in front of the judges. However, he knew this was going to happen because of all of the times they had snuck into the green rooms to talk in a quiet place and sat on broken amps backstage to tell each other jokes. Calling each other post-competition was the crucial next step.

Bruce subtly asked Bucky to switch him places in the line-up, and Thor started making his way toward the center as well, until they were only a foot or so away from each other. Bruce pulled the drumsticks out and handed them over, watching the way Thor’s face scrunched up when he saw the ten digit number scrawled on both of them.

“So,” he said, leaning in so that Bruce could hear him, “I guess it is I who will be doing the calling.” Bruce laughed, motioning to the sticks.

“Sure hope you don’t break both of those, too,” he jabbed, earning a gasp.

“I thought you said you’d never talk about that again!” Thor accused, though there was no real bite. Bruce shrugged, his attention suddenly being snagged by a judge walking up to the microphone.

“Alright, everyone. It was very close between these two fantastic bands, but the winner of the New York City Annual Battle of the Bands is-”

Bruce didn’t hear the winner, as he was too busy telling Thor that the event desperately needed a shorter title.

[rosesfromcth]

The Middle/LRH/Ch.1

Sophie POV

I don't know why I came to the meet and greet. I bought the wristbands the second they were available six months ago. A bunch of my friends also bought wristbands. We thought it would be fun, we all liked 5 seconds of summer, we enjoyed listening to their music while getting ready to go out or when driving in the car. We requested their songs at clubs, but we'd never seen them live, I don't think any of us owned merchandise. I had been excited about coming and meeting 5SOS.

But the closer it got, the more anxious I became. I could barely pay attention to what my friends where saying, I was nodding along and smiling. I knew that much.

This morning started out well. Everyone got together to get ready this morning. We turned on Sounds Good Feels Good. By the time I had finished getting ready, I was a wreck. What if the pictures didn't turnout? I never look good in pictures. What if I said something weird and looked stupid? I always say something weird. I knew my makeup could've been a lot better and although I chose to wear one of my more flattering outfits, I still felt uncomfortable in my skin, this wasn't an uncommon theme in my life.

My friends knew something was off with me, so they had been blasting the music and cracking jokes all day in order to help me relax.

And now, I am here. I am standing in line and I can catch glimpses of the band every once and while. I listen to my friends talking and try to think of interesting things I can say when it's my turn.

One thing is for sure: I don't stand out.

Anything I say will either be embarrassing or boring, but it won't be remembered by the band. Which is nice, because at least I won't be remembered for some strange comment I make.

Mia, my best friend nudges me. I look at her, she's about the same height as me. With Mia's silky smooth white-blonde locks and stunning green eyes, you know she'd be someone easily remembered.

"Are you okay? You look worried." Mia quietly says. She has a smile on her face but you can tell she's concerned. She knows about my anxiety and my constant self-doubting issues. "You're being really quiet."

"Yeah, I'm okay." I tell her. She shoots me a concerned look, again. I nod my head in efforts to reassure her. I take a deep breath. I am going to be fine. I just need to relax and let loose. I should be enjoying this, it's an amazing experience with my best friends.

Tori and Cherry are laughing about something. I'm not sure what but I know I'll find out.

——————————

We are almost at the front of the line now, it'll be our turn any minute now. We are getting antsy now as we wait.

"Oh my gosh, how should we pose for the picture?" Cherry exclaims.

I remember reading in a magazine articles how meet and greets are hard on the celebrities because they often have to pick up their fans or so really strange poses. It's like they are mannequins, and other people are moving their bodies for them. It's really uncomfortable. I can only imagine how anxious I would feel going through this.

"Let's just stand in a line, or do the sorority squat" I suggest. Everyone nods in agreement. Mia grins.

"Next!" A security guard calls. "You girls are up." He ushers us in to the room with the band.

We are in the same room as 5 freaking Seconds of Summer. The same room as Ashton Irwin. Calum Hood. Luke Hemmings. And Michael Clifford. Holy Guacamole. They are smiling at us. I know I'm not the only speechless one. But the others regain their abilities to talk almost instantly.

Tori and Cherry go first, saying hi to each of the boys, with Mia and I closely behind.

Okay, here we go.

Michael is the first one. And suddenly, I'm out of words.

"Hi, you're... Michael, you're Michael. Hi, um, hi. Yeah, hi." I blurt.

Oh my god. I'm a blubbering idiot.

"Hi Michael. I'm Sophie. It's nice to meet you, I'm going to shut up now." I say quickly.

Michael laughs. "Hi Sophie, it's nice to meet you. Don't be nervous, that was better than most people's first reaction to meeting us."

He hugs me and I move next to Ashton and Calum. It's goes relatively well. Until I get to Luke. I wouldn't call myself a fan girl or anything. But I've always had a soft spot for Luke Hemmings.

I approach Luke slowly and I stand there for a second before he smiles at me.

"Hello, I'm Sophie, what's your name?" I smile. And then I realize my mistake. I feel my cheeks heat up and I'm sure they are as red as Ashton’s freshly dyed red hair. My smile drops from my face and I can't feel my legs anymore.

Michael who has now moved over towards and he bursts out laughing. I see Mia out of the corner of my eyes giggle alongside of Michael. Then I notice Tori joining them and soon so has everyone else. Including Luke. It takes everything in me not to turn around and run away.

Ashton must notice my discomfort because he promptly stops laughing. Or he tries to at least. Luke quickly follows his bandmates lead.

Luke then looks at me again. "Hi, Sophie. It's nice to meet you. I am Luke and I would like to thank you for making my day. Will you take a picture with me?"

I slowly nod. I pull out my phone and hand it to Tori as I move next to Luke. Luke wraps both arms around me and grins. Tori takes a few pictures and then presses his lips to my cheek. I feel my face flush pink, and then turn to look at Luke. Luke is still looking at me. Tori takes one last picture and then clears her throat. She holds my phone out towards me, which I grab.

"Thanks." I mumble to Luke as I untangle myself from his arms. The rest of the band and my friends are standing close by and chatting. I hear Cherry asking about a new album and possibilities of another tour.

The security guard that walked us in comes over and stands next to Ashton. He whispers something in Ashton's ear. Ashton turns to the a woman in the back of the room and announces that we should take the pictures. We all align ourself in with our arms around each other. I position between Michael and Calum. Mia is on the other side of Michael and Tori stands on the other side of Calum. Luke and Cherry are next to Tori. The woman looks over the group, and then she points at me.

"You." She demands. "Switch with the red head."

I meekly move over so I'm on the end, next to Luke. Cherry takes my place. The woman gives us a smile and then asks if there's another pose we'd like to do.

"Sorority squat?" Tori ask. We all nod our heads. The boys look a bit confused so Tori explains to them. "Sorority girls have this one pose that they always use in pictures. Where half of them are squatting in front of the second half."

"Ooh. I want to sorority squat." Michael says. The other boys look at him. "C'mon, we can pretend to be sorority girls like Miley Cyrus in So Undercover. Luke, you love that movie."

Luke turns bright red. It's his turn to be embarrassed. I snort. My friends let out a laugh along with me.

The boys agree to Michael's request and form a line and then squat as we fill in behind them. Keep in mind, these are tall boys, so we have to stand on our tiptoes. We each place a hand on the shoulder of the boys below us.

After a few pictures like this, we switch so it's my friends and I in front with the band behind us.  And then, our time is up.

The woman hands us our phones back as the security guard walks us to the door. We are just leaving the exit from the room when Michael jogs over.

"Hey, what are your twitter usernames? We like to follow fans when we get a chance." Michael hands Mia a pad of paper and a pen.

"That would be great. Thanks, we would really appreciate that." Mia speaks up. She grabs the paper and writes down hers and the paper circles through us until Cherry hands it back. We say goodbye once more and then head out the door.

What a rush.

————————

@michael5sos is now following you.

@ashton5sos is now following you.

@calum5sos is now following you

@luke5sos is now following you

[sweethazzababy]

Toxic Friends

Plot: Y/N’s friend cruelly mistreats her, and Harry defends her having enough of it (a request)

Harry x reader

Words: 3k

A/N- two posts in one day yay!! this was a request, and i really loved the idea of it...writing it made me mad, bc of how i made the friend treat Y/N so i hope it infuriates you too lol but don’t worry Harry saves the day being his cute and loving boyfriend self! also might have overused the italics lol but i feel like adding emphasis to words helps me picture it better...thank you for requesting, i hope you guys enjoy it :)

Aggressively pressing your fork into the avocado, you huff in annoyance just wanting to be done making this damn guacamole that Harry requested.

“If you wanted it so bad, you could’ve made it.” You grumble, glancing up from the bowl to Harry who is giggling to himself as he watches you get bothered by the task.

“No one makes guacamole like you do babe. Take it as a compliment!” Harry reaches over the island to poke the tip of your nose, a growing smile on your face at his cuteness. You can never stay mad at him for very long.

“Can you at least help? Dice up a tomato or something.” You shrug your shoulders, pointing to the ingredients laid out on the counter behind you. Harry chuckles to himself as he walks over to the counter picking up the tomato that looks so small compared to his large hand, and he takes a knife from your knife holder along with a small cutting board. Placing it next to you, he nudges your hip with his own playfully.

“Look at us cookin’ together, such couple goals.” Harry gushes, a beaming dimpled smile on his face. You snort, shaking your head at his ridiculousness because you don’t consider mashing up some avocado and sprinkling some ingredients, cooking.

“I wouldn’t call this cooking, Harry.” You snicker, reaching to grab the garlic powder sprinkling a small amount and eventually mixing it into the avocado. Harry starts slicing the tomato and watching him slice it you nervously bite your bottom lip hoping he doesn’t accidentally slice his finger.

“Have you talked to Lindsey or Grace?” Harry ponders, glancing over to you with a skeptical brow. You know how much he hates your two best friends, for the sole purpose that they aren’t exactly the greatest to you. When Harry is home from tour, they treat you like you’re their favorite person and once he leaves, they ignore you.

“A little bit. Mostly since you got back.” You mumble, chewing the inside of your cheek. Humming to yourself to hopefully distract yourself from the unwanted conversation, you take the lime slice and squeeze a little bit of the juice into your guacamole, and then taking the fork again to mash it in.

As soon as Harry got back, and they found out, they started blowing your phone up with messages about hanging out and coming over to see you and catch up with Harry. You have other friends, but Lindsey and Grace have been by your side since high school so it’s easier for you to accept the stupid things they say to you sometimes.

“I don’t like them.” Harry bluntly says while casually dicing the tomato into small cubes.

“I know. But they’re the closest people I have other than you. I think they’ve just been jealous since we started dating.” You counter, defending your two best friends when you know you’re stupid for doing so. 

Harry doesn’t know, but they’ve been extremely shitty to you the past few months, jokingly mocking you for dating Harry and insulting you sometimes on your appearance. Sometimes they imply that you aren’t good enough for Harry and that you should leave him, so he can be with someone who understands fame better than you. Lindsey is the worst of the two of them, being absolutely merciless on some occasions. The problem is, they claim they just want the best for you, but you know that’s not their motive. They’re just jealous of your relationship and that you are the one who ended up dating the ‘star’. When Harry is home, they instantly apologize for their ruthless words, and come over to hang out but you know they just want to be around him.

You know you’re stupid and weak for letting it happen, but you’re scared of disposing of almost 8 years of friendship with these girls. They used to be great before Harry came into your life, and you of course don’t blame him for that. Then all of the sudden, they changed like a switch of a light.  Harry has no idea that when he isn’t home for a few weeks you feel so alone, between him being gone and your friends not being supportive. You just can’t bring yourself to tell him, because you know he’ll take matter into his own hands and would gladly rid of them for you. But you’re scared.

Finishing up the guacamole, you clean everything up from the mess you and Harry made. The vibrations of your phone buzzing on the table, startles you. Picking it up, Lindsey is calling.

“Who is it?” Harry asks, putting the rest of the ingredients back where they belong in the pantry.

“Lindsey.” You sigh, and Harry turns his head to look at you and he rolls his eyes.

“D’you have to answer it?” Harry groans, walking back over behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder kissing it lightly.

“Hey.” You answer the phone, ignoring his plead.

“Hey Y/N! Are you busy tonight?” Lindsey’s peppy voice rings through the speakers on your phone making you wince from the volume she’s speaking.

“Well, Harry’s home so I wasn’t planning on having anyone over tonight.” You truthfully decline, hoping she doesn’t push it.

Harry is still holding you into his chest from behind, and you can hear him grumble words annoyingly into your shoulder as if he’s holding back from taking the phone from your hands to curse Lindsey off. The fact that he doesn’t know how ruthless they’ve been to you, makes you scared to think about what he would do if he did know.

“Y/N, please we can just hang for like an hour, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. I know Grace feels the same.” You sigh deeply, considering having them over knowing she won’t leave you alone if you say no. Harry gently nips your shoulder, making you squeak and slap his arm but he just snickers quietly doing his best to distract you from the phone call.

“They are not coming over. Haven’t had a proper night with you in a while.” Harry objects, a whine in his tone which makes you giggle because he sounds like an adorable child. The idea of a cuddly night with your boyfriend is a night you’ve really needed and with Harry being gone a lot of the time, you miss being in his arms.

“Lindsey, I’m sorry but not tonight.” You purse your lips, hoping she doesn’t argue back. Evidently, you can hear her sigh on the other line and you know she’s rolling her eyes right now.

Harry on the other hand, smiles into your shoulder and tickles your sides a little, clearly satisfied with your answer. You squeal, holding the phone away from you so Lindsey doesn’t hear the weird sounds you’re making and ask questions. Harry just laughs as he stops tickling and continues to hug you, kissing your cheek down to the side of your neck, peppering kisses wherever he can reach sending shivers down your spine. Biting your lip, you try and suppress a small moan that’s willing to leave your mouth as Harry caresses you’re neck with his lips, his large hands gripping your hips.

“Ugh, fine.” Lindsey accepts the decline with a slight giggle at the end which you know is definitely fake, and she hangs up. Putting your phone down, Harry immediately turns you around, so your back is against the island, and engulfs his soft lips onto yours for a short but passionate kiss.

“Thank you.” He mumbles into your mouth, gripping your waist. Smiling into his kiss, you fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Pulling away, Harry kisses your nose, then wraps his arms around you for a proper hug as he squeezes you into his chest.

“Need to cuddle with you properly.” Harry’s green irises are sparkling as he speaks, the excitement evident in both his tone and his facial expressions. Grabbing the guacamole from the fridge, you set it down on the coffee table in front of the TV with a bag of tortilla chips.

After you and Harry got settled on the couch with blankets and cuddles enjoying the yummy dip you made, you hear a knock on the door. Harry gives you a puzzled look, and you give the same look to him because you’re just as confused as he is knowing no one is expected to come over.

Reluctantly, you get up from your comfortable position in Harry’s arms to open the door and to be met with Lindsey.

“Lindsey…what are you doing here?” You groan, putting your face into your hands at the sight of her because you just wanted to be with Harry tonight. You peer over your shoulder to Harry who does not look amused one bit.

“Damn, you could act a little happier to see me.” Lindsey remarks offended by your reaction to her arrival. “Hey, Harry!” Her tone completely changed to an overexcited, flirtatious greeting to your boyfriend. You purse your lips, still holding the doorknob and not moving to let her in.

Harry just gives a tight lipped smile with a small wave, clearly not happy she’s here ruining his time with you. Lindsey pushes past you since you’re blocking the entryway, and plops down to Harry taking a chip and dipping it into the guacamole.

Not one word has been said between either of you since Harry is just taken aback by her actions, completely still next to her with his eyebrows pulled together as he watches her eat the food you made together.

“Geez, not happy to see me?” Lindsey muffles, a mouth full of guacamole. “Y/N stop being a rude bitch and get over here!” Lindsey laughs, motioning with her hand for you to come sit next to her. Harry is now glaring at her, his hands balled up into his fists and you know he hates the way she speaks to you.

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you…just thought we said not tonight.” You mutter, walking over to sit on the opposite side of Lindsey who is not giving you room to be next to Harry.

“Yeah, but I always come over unannounced you should’ve just expected me to be here.” Lindsey shrugs, acting all buddy buddy with you in front of Harry. “You’re so quiet, Harry. Everything okay? How was tour?” Lindsey places her hand on his bicep, attempting to be a caring friend but you deem it to be different.

“Yeah—yeah jus’ happy to be home with Y/N. Haven’t had a proper night with her in ages it feels like. Tours been good, just really missed her you know.” Harry clears his throat as he speaks, implying that he really doesn’t want her here. You muffle a laugh, resting your hand by your mouth so it doesn’t slip.

Lindsey nods listening, but unaware of her burden.

“Actually, Y/N can I talk to you in the kitchen?” Lindsey focuses her attention back on you, her eyebrows raised as she motions to the kitchen just a few feet away. Sighing deeply, you get up from the couch as does Lindsey, and walk over to the kitchen. Harry just gazes at you as you walk by, his eyes pleading for you to come back into his arms, but you nod hoping talking to Lindsey will only take a minute. Harry turns the TV on to pass the time, and your heart is aching to jump back onto that couch with him.

“So, he hasn’t left you yet. Surprising.” Lindsey quipped, her demeanor immediately changing once you guys are in the kitchen.

“Why would he leave me?” You counter back, trying to speak quietly so Harry won’t hear.

“Y/N, sooner or later he’s gonna find someone better. You know it, I know it…it’s just a matter of time. His past girlfriends are all skinny models, and you’re far from it.” Lindsey casually speaks, acting as if she’s helping but really her words are cutting into you like knives. 

Your insecurities start to creep up into your thoughts and as much as you know what she’s saying isn’t true, the dark thoughts are unavoidable. Being with Harry, you’ve had your fair share of hate comments from fans but hearing it from someone you’ve known for a very long time, from someone you used to trust, is much different.

“Lindsey, you’re wrong.” Your voice is shaky as tears start to prick your eyes, trying your best to defend yourself.

“Am I though? I just can’t believe that night at the club he went for you instead of me…people say I look like Kendall Jenner, and she’s way prettier.” Lindsey rambles as she shrugs her shoulders leaning into the island casually, her dark brown eyes glaring into yours making you feel small. She speaks to you like this so nonchalantly, making it seem like just best friends having a conversation when really, it’s just her insulting you over and over.

“What did you jus’ say?” Harry hisses, slamming the remote onto the coffee table making both of you jump, as he marches over to the kitchen, his jaw clenched and his green eyes darkening with anger. Lindsey is taken aback by his deep voice booming through the house, and so are you.

“I-I, um—” Lindsey starts, stuttering over her words not knowing how to explain her cruel words, and definitely not expecting Harry to overhear the conversation.

“How dare you speak to Y/N like that! How fucking cruel of you to belittle her and make her feel like she’s not good enough for me.” Harry seethes, walking closer to Lindsey step by step. Lindsey just gulps, eyes wide as she steps back from him. The anger radiating from his body doesn’t go unnoticed, and even you are a little scared of him at the moment. Harry doesn’t get angry a lot, but when he does it’s terrifying.

“Harry—”

“Shut the fuck up Lindsey! You’re so fuckin’ jealous of Y/N that you insult her over and over? S’that the case? You fuckin’ should be jealous of her, ‘cause she is way more beautiful and perfect for me, than you will ever be. She is the most amazing person on the planet, and I would never even have a distant thought of leaving her for anyone, especially not for you, a fucking bitch, of all people.” Harry fumes, rage nearly consuming him as he scolds her. “How can you call yourself a friend, let alone a fuckin’ decent human being when you treat someone like that?” Harry’s eyes are burning into Lindsey as she stands there with wide eyes still taken aback by his outburst. You, on the other hand, are feeling relieved that Harry is stepping in.

“No, you must have heard me wrong I didn’t—” Lindsey defends, trying to cover up her malicious words.

“Get the fuck out of our house.” Harry commands cutting her off, his voice moving an octave lower as his words tremble slightly with fury.

“Y/N!” Lindsey looks to you for help, but you shake your head, your eyes now piercing into hers with rage.

“Get out. I can’t be friends with a ruthless bitch.” You seethe, holding your ground. Lindsey steps back from the both of you, hurt expressed all over her face as she quickly walks to the door, closing it behind her.

Harry immediately runs to you, bringing you into his chest as he cradles you in his arms kissing the top of your head. “M’so sorry. She was terrible to you, and I didn’t notice how badly.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I should’ve stood up for myself sooner, I should’ve told you sooner. I just was scared to cut her off after being friends with her for so long, which I know is a stupid thing for me to do. She put thoughts into my head that made me doubt your love for me.” You confess, feeling ashamed with your lack of confidence, gripping onto his soft sweatshirt. Harry pulls away from the hug to look at you, both of his hands cupping your jaw as he pecks the tip of your nose with a kiss.

“Don’t you ever doubt my love for you. I’m so in love with you, more than I’ve ever felt with anyone else. You’re mine, and you’re perfect for me. So beautiful, inside and out. I know it get’s hard for you, with the fans and the press, but don’t ever think for a second that I don’t want you.” Harry consoles, his green eyes lightening up with twinkles again, recovering from his anger. His thumb softly caresses your cheek, and you grasp one of his hands that’s cupping your jaw holding it against your face. His words make your heart flutter still to this day, and tonight you feel like you’re falling for him all over again.

“I love you so much Harry. Thank you for standing up for me, when I couldn’t.” You praise, so thankful for him. You don’t know what you would do without him by your side.

“You’re my girl. Can’t let you get hurt.” Harry comforts, moving his hands down to your hips rubbing gently up and down your sides. You grin at his words, your heart warming more and more. Harry leans down to kiss you, his lips pressing against yours making you shiver. His tongue slides against your bottom lip, and you open your mouth slightly as he kisses you deeply moving his lips against yours as they fit together so perfectly.

“Now let’s get back to our guacamole, wanna cuddle and eat with you on the couch since I’ve missed you for months.” Harry mumbles into your mouth, playfully nipping your bottom lip making you gasp into a giggle. He leads you back to the couch, as you rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you.

You’re both eyeing the dip suspiciously and you know you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I can’t eat that now. The devil touched it.” You titter, a chuckle leaving your throat. Harry throws his head back with a cackle because he probably had the same exact thoughts. 

[ograndebatata]

Belated contribution to Elena of Avalor Ship appreciation week - Day 2 - Alonso/Carmen -Adventures in Love - Chapter 001

Well... this was meant to be a contribution to the Elena of Avalor ship week on the Discord server, but it came out far later than I expected due to how much it started growing out of my control.

I even decided to post it in parts eventually because it was just getting so big. I hope you enjoy this first one. The pairing is Alonso x Carmen, and it was meant to be on the ‘Adventure’ day, with the crackship theme.

The usual disclaimers about me not owning anything in the series apply. 

Chapter 1 - Customer Importance

A bit over a week before Avalor's third Navidad after Princess Elena's exit from the Amulet of Avalor...

A growling stomach would usually not be described as something to be proud of, but as Alonso followed Avalor's new magister of trade into Café Angelica, he knew none of his body parts had ever spoken up at a better time.

Yes, Julio Guzman meant well, and it was remarkable he tried so hard to be good at his job, and it was good he had become more confident in his position since they first met at the last Feast of Friendship, and it was true Alonso was still trying to better himself. But there were limits for everything, and while Alonso had learned to be polite enough to not outright say so to the man, he was sick of hearing heaps of proposals that traders, whether Avaloran or not, had regarding partnerships with Cordoba.

Thankfully, his stomach's growl had served as an effective stopper to those, for the time being anyway, and Julio had suggested a meal on the house before he left for Cordoba to spend Navidad with his family.

At first, Alonso had accepted just to have some way of escaping this conversation, but as he smelled the divine whiffs coming from the kitchen even before he entered the place, he knew it had been a good idea for more reasons than one.

As he walked in, he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the soft glow of the lights, the warm golden-orange on the walls, and the blue tables and chairs set about in an organized but not geometric fashion, each of them simple but well-crafted and sturdy.

It all seemed to give a feeling of being part of the family, like he heard Elena said she wanted her guests to feel, although this café looked far too old to have been set up by her.

"Here, Prince Alonso," the man instructed, pointing at a table for two right in front of the door. Alonso circled it so he could face the door and sat down as he removed his messenger bag from his shoulder. "Do you have anything in mind, or would you like to read the menu?"

Alonso picked up the list before him. "I think I'll read the menu. I don't know enough about Avaloran cuisine to ask for anything beforehand."

Julio nodded, standing at attention by his table like a soldier, his hands behind his back.

Trying to keep a calm expression, Alonso said, "Relax, will you? I won't terminate the alliance with Avalor if you just sit down for a bit."

The magister of trade did not sit down, but at least did stand in a more relaxed fashion, his arms now falling alongside his body.

Not as far as Alonso had suggested, but maybe it was better not to be too pushy, he decided as he started looking at the menu.

He recognized some dishes in it, like locro and guacamole and paella and enchiladas and tacos, but there were others which he had never heard of, like morisqueta and aguachile and puntas and milanesa and chicharron.

It might be interesting to try some of those out, but given it would be quite some time before he could eat again, and he might end up being accidentally rude by conveying through his expression that any given dish would be bad, perhaps he should go for something a bit more familiar.

Sounds like you're not trying all that hard to be better, after all. A reproachful voice pointed out at him.

Alonso suppressed a frown. He had been trying hard. The fact he still remembered all the proposals Julio Guzman had conveyed to him proved it, he thought.

But maybe he could try even harder. After all, his father went through even worse ordeals during his rule. If Alonso couldn't even be trusted to show gratitude for food he didn't like, he could hardly hope to be the kind of king who'd be a good ruler.

Not that he could hope that anyway, but he could still try his best.

Just pick something! Alonso told himself as he willed his eyes to pick something out from the list.

They landed on a dish at random, and he voiced his request to Julio.

"I'd like some rissoles with arroz rojo," he said. "Please." he added at the very last minute as he remembered his manners.

"I'll ask my sister to make some right away," Julio replied.

Saying so, he jogged someplace behind him, probably the kitchen to tell his sister. Interesting. Alonso would have thought the man would have called out the order rather than leave his guest alone, but perhaps he also felt the talk of trade matters had run its course and didn't feel comfortable around Alonso without it.

Shrugging to himself, Alonso settled more comfortably into his chair. He wouldn't say that to the man's face either, but he could do with some peace and quiet for a bit.

///

Sitting at the kitchen table, Carmen looked up as she heard the kitchen's double doors creaking open. Normally she barely blinked at the noise, but something about it was different enough this time that she raised her eyes from the new recipe she was outlining on paper before trying out for real.

Indeed, Julio had a rather strange halted skip to his step as he approached, his eyes glowing with eagerness and yet the rest of his posture strangely tense.

"You'll never guess who agreed to come to the café!" he whispered at her like an excited kid who'd gotten a toy he'd been wanting for months.

Carmen set down her pencil. "Hello to you too."

Julio stopped as if trying not to stumble on a sudden obstacle.

"Yes, yes, hello." he conceded. "Did you have a good day?"

"It was quiet. Enough people came here to turn in profit, but not enough to overwhelm the staff." She could see from the way he was tensing up that he was just dying to keep talking about his topic, so she added "I'm guessing you had a pretty great one. Who came here with you?"

"One of the best guests we could have!" Julio leaned forward and 'loud whispered'. "Prince Alonso of Cordoba!"

Carmen could actually feel her eyes widening.

"You mean he stayed with you all day long to listen to everything you wanted to tell him?"

Even without knowing him, she was impressed. Julio had had quite a lot of proposals to share, even though he had spent the better part of two days discarding lots of suggestions whether because they were repeated, too impractical to implement, or, in some rare cases, so asinine that they didn't deserve to be taken into consideration.

"I was impressed as well," Julio remarked. "Especially after Princess Elena's warnings about him."

Carmen shrugged. "Maybe he's trying to change?"

Julio nodded. "Maybe, but from how he acted with me, he either really changed a lot or wasn't that bad to begin with." Before Carmen could reply, her brother made a gesture as if pushing a heavy burden to the side. "Point is, he's here! And he's going to eat your food!" In a more normal tone, he finished. "He asked for rissoles with arroz rojo. Let's get them done."

Carmen narrowed her eyes. "We're almost closed. I'm not sure I can have those ready before then. Can't you ask him to order anything simpler?"

"We could close a bit later, can't we? This is an important customer, after all." He looked like he was ready to throw his arms up from the grandeur of his following statement. "And if he likes it, maybe word will spread to Cordoba, and other visitors from there will come here, and we'll get more money!"

Carmen tried not to frown.

"I think we're good on the money front for a while."

Julio folded his arms. "That's why we need to have enough to save up in case we ever end up on the wrong side of poverty again."

Carmen held back her remarks. She could see where Julio was coming from. Even with the café's success, it had taken over a year to pay off all the bills and debts that had built up during the dark period in their lives. Still, she didn't exactly like Julio's excessive concerns with money. They were well off by now, at least enough that she didn't see the need to seek for a source of profit everywhere.

"I'll help you." Julio added, opening his eyes wider and pouting like a puppy.

Carmen sighed. "I think you're overdoing it." She took a deep breath to gather herself. "But let's make the rissoles with arroz rojo."

Julio broke into a relieved smile. "Thank you, Carmen."

Despite herself, Carmen spared him a smile of her own before she put away her pencil and the book she had been writing on.

Here's to hoping he can appreciate good food. She thought as she picked up a piece of bread to be turned into crumbs. She knew some royals could be really picky about what they ate. Granted, that might be undeserved reputation in some cases. She didn't have motives to complain about any of those she had actually met, and no one had ever disliked any of her abuela's dishes.

Carmen closed her eyes, a jolt of pain cutting through her heart. Even years later, she could get bouts of sadness when thinking about abuelita. And she had been getting a lot of those lately with the approaching Navidad.

She willed the thought to leave her brain as she set the bread down on the table and went to get the onion. Her point was, Prince Alonso sounded like he would be the first royal she served who was a picky eater. Though Julio's words had hinted he was trying to be better, it was hard to say if he had become good enough to be polite about food he didn't like. Doña Paloma had spoken of his comments on single lettuce leaves after all.

Well, let him think whatever he thought. Carmen would do the dish he had requested, and would do her best job, like her professional and personal pride always compelled her to.

And if Prince Alonso didn't like it, all the worse for him.