#couldn’t he throw in a pizza or an egg or some’

[akissiwashere]

So because I am crazy and insane, I went ahead and played against Al-Haitham numerous time in order to figure out ALL the cards that are apart of his deck.

You see, when m*hoyo creates decks for our playable characters, multiple things obviously come into play:

- Do the cards synergies well with one another? - Does the element duo open interesting event card and/or action card? - Do the character apart of the deck know each other/have a good relationship with one another? - What character card are currently available? - etc.

You know, basics. Not every point have to check out, of course. But most do. Kind of the way a non-sweaty player would think. And so while I was surprised and delighted to see Cyno in Al-Haitham deck, I had to rationalize my delusions.

"Oh, it’s for electro resonance. The card he’s playing bursts down his opponent. He will need the energy." Okay, very true rational me, but then again, why Cyno? Based on your assumption, would Raiden’s card not have been more sutible? Perhaps Kujou Sara who thrives in quicken decks…

"Maybe because his deck takes advantage of sumerian event cards which only activates when two character cards are from Sumeru" True true true. Damn. Perhaps, you are right. I’m just delusional, but I am content… unless. Isn’t D*ri from Sumeru? Which raises my question again…UGH. No no actually, you are probably right. Most certainly right, rational me. But I must see him use it myself. To appease my insanity.

So I played against Mr Scribe. Only to beat him in four rounds. So I matched us again. And again. And again. I think our longest match was 11 rounds? No matter. My point is, he did not use a card which REQUIRES two sumerian. Not once. He sure damn used the electro resonance card though, I can assure you that!

I even went to check other characters decks, keeping in mind what event/action card were available when they came out. And like, if I can grossly summarize, you have type

A) They are lowkey meta decks (i.e. Wanderer)

or type

B) They are definitely… decks (i.e. Klee)

Guess where I would categorize Al-Haitham’s deck? He’s soooo likeeee (it’s type B by the way). I’m probably trying to rationalize it because I genuinely thought he’d do something so stupidly meta and he just… did not? And even if he did, I thought it would have a strategy that isn’t "rely on Cyno’s card when all turns to shit". Like sir! Please stop making me like your pairing more and more it was not supposed to be like this.

[t-nd-rfoot]

one more bc i’m actually having so much fun thinking of these lol!

🍾 with hangman

HUNG(OVER)MAN aka After New Year's with Jake Headcanons

Even when Jake isn’t so good…he’s good.

Pairing Jake Seresin x reader

Theme Fluff

Warnings One mention of actual hangovers, I also just couldn’t think of another title

Word Count 570

Note This was headed in a completely different direction but seeing as it’s just after New Year’s, I thought this direction seemed a bit fitting! This was supposed to go up earlier (like right after NYE) but I had a not so great start to the new year so this took awhile to write and edit. Also, may or may not be loosely based on how I spend NYD 😬 I hope you enjoy it, love!!!

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

On the rare occasion that Jake didn’t have work the day after a big event, the two of you would spend the day as quiet as possible

Every morning, the two of you would wake up absolutely exhausted despite oversleeping

But the drilled-in discipline from his military training will nag at him until he gets up so he’ll at least get up to brush his teeth

But the drilled-in discipline from his military training will nag at him until he gets up so he’ll at least get up to brush his teeth

Then it’s straight back to bed for morning snuggles

(He’s also barely awake while brushing his teeth so he also just wants to lay down)

The next time he gets out of bed is when his stomach starts grumbling

And he’s making sure you’re getting out of bed with him, whether that means throwing you over his shoulder or carrying you bridal style

Neither of you bother to change out of your pajamas, by the way

(And that’s assuming you guys even had the energy to change before getting into bed)

If you didn’t, this would be the time you guys exchange your wrinkled formalwear for comfy sweats and tees

For breakfast (or brunch, rather) Jake is always quick to stop you before you can reach for the sugary cereal atop the fridge

“If I’m ever too lazy to cook breakfast for you, then feel free to throw me out along with the garbage”

It’s a simple plate of eggs and bacon to share, exactly the way you like it, with a mug of hot coffee

Then it’s off to the living room couch for some more cuddling while sharing your meal

The TV volume is set to low as you idly flip through the channels or check out what’s streaming

But neither of you are listening to it

Instead, the two of you talk about your plans for the new year: things you want to do, places you want to see, etc.

You guys could literally spend hours on that couch just doing nothing

Also thanks to the many throw pillows you bought because Jake secretly loves them

At some point, he’ll starts to get antsy so the two of you drive around town

Driving through for coffee

Checking out the new restaurant you plan to eat at soon

Passing the scenic route on the way home

Picking up some pizza for dinner on the way

“Easiest dinner cleanup ever,” you said as you suggested it

“You read my mind”

And it’s back to the couch and TV for dinner, though this time the two of you actually pay attention to the screen

Even though you guys spent the whole day barely doing anything, Jake is alert the moment you yawn

He’s turning off the TV and putting away the leftover pizza while you get ready for bed

“Don’t worry about the mess here, babe, I got this. You go ahead so you can rest”

You stay up long enough to wait for him to get in bed with you

Once he kisses you good night, the two of you fall right asleep, recharged for life to go back to normal

In his dreams, he’s replaying the day he just had, doing everything and nothing with you

Because as much as he loves to celebrate big, it’s the small moments with you that mean everything to him

Disclaimer  I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

[allfryam]

Spider-fat part 1

Peter was your average college student. He liked sports, did well in most of his classes, and had plenty of friends. But he had one big secret. He was Spider-Man. He had never told anyone. Many people were beginning to become suspicious however. This was mainly because of his amazing body. Peter had rock hard abs and bulging biceps. His toned muscles were all formed because of being Spider-Man. His friends would ask him how he was able to look so good without ever going to the gym. Peter just brushed it off as good genes.

After months of peters friends questioning him, peter decided to come up with a plan to stop them. While being Spider-Man had lots of perks, it also had some drawbacks. Peter had an enormous appetite. He could clear a buffet without breaking a sweat. Of course, he had to control himself or he would gain weight. And who ever heard of a fat Spider-Man. But this gave peter an idea. If he put on a few pounds, people would stop suspecting him as Spider-Man.

the next day, peter went crazy. For breakfast, he ate 10 pancakes drenched with butter and syrup, as well as a dozen scrambled eggs. And he washed it all down with a pint of orange juice. Peter liked the feeling of being full. His tight stomach made him feel confident. On his lunch break, Peter was still a little full from breakfast but he knew he couldn’t stop eating. There was a McDonald’s across the street from his office that he decided to go to. Peter ordered a Big Mac, 3 large fries, and a large coke. “14.85” said the cashier. “I’m not done” said Peter. The cashier looked shocked, but a little intrigued as Peter ordered 20 nuggets, a double quarter pounder, and a large chocolate shake for dessert.

Peter picked up a pizza on the way home and ate the entire thing by himself. He went to bed rubbing his tight stomach.

as the weeks passed, peter had gained about 20 pounds. His six pack had turned into a sizable gut, and his ass was a little thicker too. Peter decided it was a good stopping point to get people off his trail. He tried to eat a small breakfast but he was too hungry. He decided that one more day wouldn’t hurt so he ate his usual massive breakfast. Peter had began to develop a relationship with the cashier at McDonald’s because he would go everyday on his lunch break. Kevin, the cashier, had invited peter over for dinner that night, and Peter couldn’t turn up free food. Peter showed up with an empty stomach, and a button up shirt that was beginning to feel a little tight. Kevin welcomed him and Peter saw the massive spread that he had prepared. There was an entire chicken, baked potatoes, turkey, loads of vegetables, and burgers. Peter was almost drooling at the sight of all of the food. He took a seat and loaded his plate with a mountain of delicious food. Peter was in a hungry daze as he shoved handfuls of fettening food into his expanding gut. Peter was stuffed. He leaned back in his chair and let out a massive burp. “I can’t eat another bite” he said. “But look at all these leftovers. I would hate to have to throw them away.” Kevin said. Not wanting to make a bad impression, Peter reluctantly continued to eat. With every bite he could feel the buttons on his shirt getting tighter. He finished the rest of the food and he felt like he could pass out. Peter sat in his chair groaning as Kevin walked into the kitchen. What else could he possibly be getting? A few minutes later, he came back with a platter of desserts. It contained pies, cakes, muffins, pastries, cookies, and more. It was the most appetizing dessert peter had ever seen. “I don’t think I can…” Peter said. “Come on… sugar expands your stomach. It won’t even make you feel full.” Before peter could protest, Kevin had scooped two pieces of pie, a scoop of ice cream, and a thick slice of cake onto peters plate. Peter slugged his way through the desserts, giving up on silverware. He decided to just use his hands to shove his dessert filled hands into his mouth. As Peter shoveled the last bite of cake into his mouth, he felt a pop. He looked down to see a button had popped off his shirt, revealing his tight, fuzzy belly. Kevin decided it would be best for Peter to stay at his house for the night.

to be continued…

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Thoughts after finishing a re-watch of Taskmaster season 2:

- You can see this a lot throughout seasons 1 and 2, that in the early season they had a lot more time for the tasks. The average seemed to be an hour, while these days 20 minutes would be a long time. I can why there would be very good budgetary reasons to shorten the timeframe once they were doing 10 episodes instead of 5 or 6, if they gave them an hour for each task they’d be there forever. But still, an hour is enough time for the contestants to come up with some cool stuff that just can’t be done in 20 minutes. I enjoyed watching that.

- I still think Impress the Mayor is one of the best tasks in Taskmaster history. I see why they don’t do stuff with the general public anymore (like high fiving a 55-year-old in season 1, and season 2 had a bit of that with ordering a pizza), but I think they should bring on more authority figures and make Taskmaster people entertain them. I don’t think they’ve done that since with someone of that stature, and actually, it’s been a long time since they’ve brought in an outside person of any stature (ie. the woman they had find things in common with in season 6, the guy they cheered up in season 7, Rosalind the nightmare, even Fred). Those are fun.

- The was a very potato-heavy season, even by Taskmaster standards. The potato throw. The potato bridge. The cat named Patatas. The potato live task. The bandstand potato team task. The stop motion potato team task. That’s a lot of potatoes for a five-episode season.

- On the subject of the bandstand potato team task, it was jarring to see them bring in Josh, as they’ve now more firmly established the rules of Taskmaster and they don’t include just throwing in ex-contestants to make a team task fairer.

- I had it in my head, for some reason, that season 2 was slightly better than season 1. On a re-watch, I’d say it was the other way around. Season 2 was very good, but season 1 hit some highs it couldn’t quite match. Possibly due to the cast not seeming to get along quite as well.

- Every time I have to do one of those “prove you’re a human” things that ask me to click on every picture with a bridge, I mutter the Greg Davies quote “Sometimes you don’t see bridges” under my breath. It was fun to see that one in context again.

- I also have a kid at work who likes to name farm animals, so sometimes I sing Old McDonald to him. Every time I do, I picture Joe Wilkinson standing there in his suit looking blank, and I sing the song in his disinterested voice, and the kid giggles, it’s great.

- Jon Richardson is, as I’ve said before, absolutely right to be upset that he got robbed of a season victory by one live task in which it was possible to get fifteen actual points, especially when the scoring system wasn’t made particularly clear in the instructions. Having said that, I am please that Katherine Ryan has given us Canada’s 100% winning record on UK Taskmaster (with Mae Martin).

- The good old bandstand. I like the increasingly elaborate sets, but the bandstand was fun. Someone on Reddit posted a map recently that shows how you can walk from the Taskmaster house to the Taskmaster bandstand in about half an hour, I have saved that map and intend to do that walk when I go to London this summer. Along the Thames and see if I can catch sight of Tim Key’s ice block.

- The task where they threw groceries across the river, was also very strong. Richard Osman just fucking going for it with all his might to launch a shopping cart into the water is one of my favourite shots of Taskmaster, for similar reasons to Romesh Ranganathan throwing the watermelon on the floor. I like watching people really go for things. Richard Osman eating that egg with no hesitation whatsoever and then casually picking up his tea and walking away like a movie star was pretty fucking cool too. God Richard Osman is cool.

- I now think of Joe Wilkinson’s ass whenever I see a pineapple, so that’s a fun effect Taskmaster has had on my life.

- I don’t often think of Jon Richardson doing the four one-minute tasks when I think of tasks that have been set just for one person. But I should, because that was a lot of fun. I like how they upped the ante a bit from the previous season with Josh just doing it on his own, getting others involved in setting the tasks. That was very funny. Also, the makeup tutorial one reminded me of a particularly intense/harrowing bit from the Russell Howard/Jon Richardson BBC 6 Music Show, and Jon looked quite upset while doing it, I think Katherine Ryan may have inadvertently given Jon some flashbacks.

- I said after episode 1 that Katherine Ryan was really funny in that episode, I think she may have remained the most consistently funny contestant throughout the season. The perfect mix of confidence and ability to laugh at herself.

- The final live task was excellent.

- I see why they didn't keep making them buy gifts for Greg for 17 seasons straight, but I think they should bring that one back in some future season, just once, as a treat.

[specialagentlokitty]

Mr Evershed x daughter!reader - if you know best

Omg! Your works are absolutely amazing! Thank you for writing amazing storiessss! I'm always nervous to request something but screw ittt😂Can i request a martin evershed x daughter reader where his kid is basically getting bullied and he only kinda finds out shes being bullied when people egg their house or something, put your own spin on it if you likeee😁 - Anon💜

Mr Evershed understood sometimes people hated school, not everybody liked it, not everybody found it easy or enjoyed it.

What Mr Evershed couldn’t understand is why you seemed to absolutely despise the idea of school.

You hate decent grades, you were an angry person, you didn’t get into fights or arguments, you kept yourself to yourself.

But yet, you always left after him despite the fact it was easier for him to drop you off and bring you home, but you were always the first out of the doors after school ended.

He had asked you a few times but you had never really given him an answer.

As he got in that night, he found you sitting at the table doing homework, your jumper on the radiator drying from the rain.

“I could have brought you home.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t raining that bad when I was coming home.”

You glanced up from your homework and gave him a small smile.

He sighed a little, walking over to set his stuff down on the table with you.

“It would’ve been warmer.”

You laughed a little, gesturing to the fluffy blanket around your shoulders.

“That’s why I forced you to buy me this.”

“Oh really? Not because you just wanted to hide in it when you don’t want to wake up early?”

You grinned a little, shrugging your shoulders as you carried on doing your work.

Laughing softly, Mr Evershed walked over and sat next to you, grabbing his bag so he could do some of the work that he needed to do.

You both sat there peacefully working for a few moments before you tapped his arm.

He looked at you.

“Can we make pizza for dinner?”

“I don’t have the things.”

“Please?”

He chuckled a little.

“How about we order pizza, and then make some on the weekend?”

You happily agreed to this and he went looking for his phone.

While he was looking for his phone, he heard a few thuds against the house and he frowned a little bit.

You didn’t seem to notice it, so he opened the door and stepped out, looking at the house to see eggs on the window and door, students running away yelling.

He immediately recognised them and knew the kind of people that they were.

Closing the door, he stepped back inside and closed the door.

“Sweetheart?” He asked.

“Dad?”

You looked up from your homework.

He walked over, sitting opposite you at the table this time.

“How long have you been having issues at school?”

“I’m not.”

He sighed.

“There’s egg all over the windows, and yesterday I found eggshells in the front garden.”

You quickly looked at your phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“I’m handling it…”

He sighed heavily.

“I can speak to them, I know exactly who they are.”

“Dad please don’t, it’ll make it worse.”

He sighed again, slowly nodding his head.

“Alright, I won’t do anything you don’t want to. But I need you to tell me everything, alright?”

You agreed to this, and you told him everything that had been happening.

You explained to him you knew about the names and what they thought, about you being the daughter of the headteacher and what the students think.

You told him that they had been throwing eggs out the house for about two weeks, it was always right after school which was why you had to be home before him.

He listened and waited for you to stop talking.

“You should have told me sweetheart…”

“I know dad.. I.. I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you.

“Don’t be sorry. But you know what, you’re handling this really well. How do you want to handle this?”

“I.. I’m just going to keep ignoring them for now I guess.”

“Alright, we’ll do that then. But this means I can take you home now okay? You don’t have to worry about egg it can be cleaned.”

You nodded and he smiled standing up.

“Come here.”

You got up and tightly hugged him.

Mr Evershed smiled and hugged you back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You were his daughter, and he wanted to do anything to protect you.

But if you didn’t want him getting involved he was fine with that as well, but the moment you wanted it needed help he was ready to jump into action

[2-sleepy-for-this]

Not so Silent Night

Hiya! Yay! Another fic completed, this one is for a secret Santa my discord is having. The person I got assigned was..🥁🥁

the amazing @azzysflowergarden ! :)

the prompt was: Raph n Mikey baking holiday foods/making a gingerbread house together (｡>◡<｡)!! Doesn't necessarily have to be xmas foods tho (ˊ˘ˋ*)

and the medium to receive was: either (so I did both ;) )

Tw: tooth rotting fluff

word count ~ 1 k

“Pleaseeee!” 

Mikey looked at Raph from his perch on the countertop. 

“I don’t know. I was gonna patrol tonight. The people need red riot,”

“Yea, but I need red riot too!”

Raph had tried saying no, but, turning to see Mikey there, so small with puppy eyes working overtime, he just couldn’t ruin his baby brother's happy demeanor.

“Fine, Raph can make the people wait. Let’s bake,”

“Yay! Ok, so, first we need to add in the flour, some milk and eggs. Oh! maybe some nutmeg, should we make them gingerbread? We gotta make them gingerbread- “

“Woah, woah, woah, I don’t even know what we’re making yet. Slow down,” 

“Right, we are making drumroll, please… Christmas cookies! Ta-da!”

Christmas cookies, huh? Those can’t be too hard. Sure, Raph’s not the best in the kitchen, but they’ve made cookies plenty of times before. What could go wrong?

“Alright, little brother, we got this. "

Raph extended a hand, which Mikey jumped on without hesitation. That always made Raph's heart melt. How much Mikey trusted him, even though he was so tiny.

They made their way to the fridge, the smaller of the two saying each ingredient they needed. Raph would never understand how he just knew what needed to be mixed to make such delicious things.

After grabbing a mixing bowl on the way back to the table, they were ready to start making some treats.

~~~~~~~~~~

Treats weren’t the only thing made that night. That much would be clear to anyone walking into the kitchen. 

Flour, dough and many other things decorated almost every surface, including the two turtles in the eye of the sugary storm. Another bit of frosting was thrown against the wall as a small turtle covered in raw dough continued on his mission to make a gorgeous edible mural on the wall for all to see.

“Mikey! Stop it! This’ll take forever to clean up. "

“Relax, I’m making the kitchen better! This is gonna look amazing when it’s done. Promise!”

The used-to-be orange brother said, but his next throw fell short as a giant hand grabbed him by the shell. Mikey was soon eye level with his big brother. He laughed under a playful glare.

After much convincing, Raph got Mikey to stop frosting the kitchen, and it wasn’t long until the shaped cookie dough was in the oven. 

20 minutes and a very long debate about the best pizza topping later, fresh hot cookies were being pulled from the oven rack and placed down to cool.

To most people, looking at the tray, you’d see some misshapen blobs of tan, but to the brothers that fought tooth and nail to make them good, these were perfect.

The frosting process was just as chaotic as the baking process. If it weren’t for the flour covering his body, Raph would say the frosting was the messiest part. 

Once Mikey picked all the colors they would need and Raph mixed them into the already made frosting, they were ready to finish the cookies. With Mikey’s small form, he was able to make his cookies look better than any professional Raph had ever seen. Raphs cookies on the other hand looked… edible.

Finally, after hours of baking and frosting and mess-making, the product was complete. Christmas turtle cookies. Each resembling one of the four brothers, Mikey made his own and Donnie’s, Raph made his and Leo’s. 

“These look amazing, best. Cookies. Ever!”

Mikey seemed over the moon with joy as he ran around, looking over each cookie bigger than him. 

“Yea, we really outdone ourselves, little brother. "

Raph couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. How did he ever get so lucky to be a big brother? It didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment was the sparkle shining in Mikey’s eyes, so big coming from someone so small.

The brothers soon made up their minds. These cookies were special, so it made sense that they had to be enjoyed as a family.

After washing themselves up, they made their way around the lair, Mikey riding on Raph’s shoulder the whole way, trying to find the twins. Leo was found in his room reading comics but at the mention of a sweet surprise, he was up and following them to get Donnie. Said mad scientist was working at his desk with whatever new project he’d come up with. It took much more convincing for him to leave, but he, too, was curious about what the oldest and youngest had planned.

With all brothers accounted for, they went back to the kitchen. By the time Raph got to the kitchen counter, he could feel Mikey vibrating with excitement. Mikey ran down Raph’s arm, nearly giving the oldest brother a heart attack, and landed not-so-gracefully on the surface below. He ran up to the cooling tray of treats and threw his arms up.

“Ta-da! We made cookies!”

The twins looked over the cookies, inspecting the details their brothers put on just for them. Mikey explained how raph had made Leo’s and Mikey had made Donnie’s and both cool colored themed turtles thanked their eldest and youngest siblings. 

After the gratitude came to the turtle's favorite part, each brother grabbed their cookie, except Mikey, who needed raph to hold it while they all made their way to the living room. They sat on their designated spots in front of the tv and enjoyed the rest of the night.

And as the morning sun rose in the sky, it was quiet and peaceful while the turtles slept to the end credits of a movie playing on the screen. Not a creature was stirring, not even a rat.

“BOYS! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE KITCHEN”

Ok. Maybe one very unhappy rat.

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

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

hope you like it cinni! <3

[lucysweatslove]

(Tw ED related stuff under the readmore, this time talking about purging too)

(Don’t worry I’m safe/fine and didn’t engage in any disordered behavior)

So y’all know how I went on a hike yesterday and saw beautiful foresty sights?

Well idk how many calories I actually burned because fuck that, but I was out for a while, about 2.5 hours of actual moving but that involves very slow going on snowy patches. I spent maybe half an hour total with taking pics or stopping for a snack midway, some of that time getting low underneath trees to get closer to the creek (which was very active!).

Anyway, I was SUPER HUNGRY yesterday which is totally fine because 2.5 hours of activity requires fuel.

But today I’ve been having like a really hard time feeling full and satisfied, which is probably also related to hiking. Doubly annoying is that my body doesn’t want protein. Like I had a protein heavy breakfast but needed to pair it with potatoes (which, like carrots, are absolutely not a vegetable 😉) and toast because alone the idea of eggs and a vegan sausage like. I felt nauseated thinking about it.

Now I believe my body is trying to replenish its glycogen and is like “feed me carbs so I can continue to take you on hikes through knee deep snow!” which is fine but I don’t make carb heavy meals. Like they just aren’t in my repertoire of things to cook. And the few I do make that are carb heavy are also still protein heavy- like a turkey bagel sandwich is carb heavy because carbs in bagel, but I also put goat cheese (maybe with avo) and deli turkey on it and have vegetables and dip which I like with yogurt. Even my pasta is more protein heavy because I use lentil pasta (I honestly love the taste). Anyway most of the meals I know how to make and can do without much executive planning will have 25-35g protein in it.

And my body today is just not wanting it. I try, and the moment meat is being cooked, or cooked meat is being prepared, or I even smell the yogurt or milk, I literally feel so sick.

I could just eat carby things alone but something about it ALSO felt wrong- like just a bagel? Boring. Bagel with jam? Also boring. Also, snacky. I couldn’t bring myself to actually make a meal- even like, cutting up fruit I just couldn’t do. It didn’t make any sense to me. So after breakfast I finished an older protein bar I had forgotten about from last week, and then just didn’t eat.

Husband made (quite large) garlic knots tonight to use up old pizza dough. THIS smelled divine. I ate one- still hungry. Second- still hungry. Third- why tf am I still hungry? He only made 6, 3 for me and 3 for him, so I couldn’t have another one. So I was rummaging through the cabinets and remembered all the candy and treats we got on Sunday. I still had some of those, so I finished off the licorice and hello panda cookies (maybe 1-1.5 “recommended servings” left for each), have a couple pieces of fruit mochi, even have some coffee candies and a lychee gummy because they sounded super good. I was sipping water throughout too, as I do throughout the day.

But nope, still hungry. And now I’m craving something salty. Like great I satisfied my need for carbs, but my body is still hungry and is now wanting salt. So I have a couple handfuls of cashews. Keep in mind this is all spread out around 3.5 hours. It’s not all at once. I’m giving myself time to eat, to get it in my body, have my hormones adjust to the new fuel, etc.

Finally, after the cashews, I feel ACTUALLY satisfied and full. Not sick full but like, appropriate full. The full that means I won’t be hungry at an inappropriate time but I’m not over full. No more cravings. Like “move on with your life” full.

But what does my brain decide to do with this? It’s like I’m 19 or 20 again and my brain is saying “nope we can’t feel full, hunger is good, get rid of it.” (Note: I primarily exercise purged, so this little voice isn’t just like throw it up or abuse laxatives, which I also have done, but also “count up all the calories, try to estimate, and then go to the gym and burn it all off, you haven’t gone since Tuesday!”)

It’s just this small little instinctual urge which is likely coming up because stress and new scholastic endeavors and being forced to have people perceive me. Just got me in that old headspace again because of situational similarities.

Also: the fact that it was cashews that did it at the very end is killing me. Like not even after the mochi or the lychee gummy. Something with micronutrients and very very much needed salt because I DO get dizzy without it. Something traditionally considered “healthy.” THAT is what turned ED brain on. It’s literally about how full or empty I feel and how many calories I believe I’ve eaten vs burned in a day. Doesn’t matter where it’s from. Oats or chocolate or molasses or fucking carrots or nuts.

I’m just annoyed that even this far into/past recovery, my brain still goes back ten years when my body literally just feels NORMAL. Ten years into recovery and my brain is STILL triggered sometimes just by *actually feeling fully and completely satisfied.*

Anyway: I’m totally safe, not going to do anything, it was just like this little whisper of old times which I can easily tell to stfu now, but these moments are so rare I forget they exist and when they come back, it’s just a reminder that I will likely always have them trying to peak through stressful times.

[rocknrollsalad]

🛒 some stargyle!!! for the stwg daily prompt "medicine"

🍲 Argyle tasks himself with trying to make Steve feel better, even though Steve's being a total pain in his ass.

🍘 content/trigger warnings: being sick

🛍️ word count: 1045

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

It wasn’t that big of a list and someone should have taken the time to write it down for Argyle but he could do this. Four little items, all linked together. By a thread so common anyone could figure out what was going on.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

Steve was home sick. He didn’t want to worry anyone or whatever it was he said. Some sort of bullshit lies like he wasn’t radiating pleas to be taken care of like heat from the fever. Desperate and too sick to hide it, Argyle was the lucky nurse.

At a point Steve didn’t need to know, it wasn’t like there were a lot of people jumping for the chance. Argyle had called every number he had memorized to ask what Steve liked or if anyone knew if he turned into some sort of unbearable beast with a cold. They had little to offer but what Steve did for them when he was sick.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup. Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

So Argyle set off to the store, mentally chanting the home remedies and ready to help Steve feel better. He was going to be the best nurse ever! No matter how much Steve was gunning for the title of worst patient ever. Because Argyle liked Steve…a whole lot and that meant dealing with him even when he was whining about how bright the sun was through curtains that couldn’t be closed anymore.

Argyle remembered his mom talking about what a baby his dad turned into when sick and maybe Steve was one of those types. He was whining a lot and about things that couldn’t be controlled. It was fun at first, Argyle got to be the hero which wasn’t a role he earned often. That wore off though and it was time to help this cold along.

The whole drive to the store, Argyle repeated his list. He didn’t play music, he didn’t talk to other cars. The mission was clear and he wasn’t going to forget anything.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup. Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup. Chicken syrup, crackers, ginger cough.

Shit.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

In other things his mom would have an opinion on, Argyle wasn’t the one to send to the store for anything. Even with a written list, he’d come back without requested items and with too many things he wasn’t supposed to. It became a joke, a punchline to throw at others when they grabbed something other than what was on the list or took a little too long.

That added thoughts floating around his head as he walked into the store he was slowly growing familiar with. He looked around, trying to read the signs above the aisles. He needed chicken soup, crackers, cheese, barbecue sauce…

Aspirin and…

Fuck.

Argyle closed his eyes and took a breath, doing what he could to clear his mind. He should have eaten first, everything looked so good. What would Steve want for lunch? Oh! Steve was being a baby. No! He was sick. Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup.

But maybe he could swing by the frozen section and get some pizzas first. He wasn’t sick but he needed to eat too, right? Then he’d get the other things and go. It was simple and easy.

And he needed to stop by and see what magazines were in.

Cake went really well with pizza and Argyle hadn’t had a decent piece since he’d come back to Indiana. He jogged back to the front to get a cart.

Flour, eggs, cocoa powder, sugar, and milk.

Flour, eggs, cocoa powder, sugar, and milk. And ice cream. And…ginger ale?

Most of the ingredients were on the same aisle so Argyle loaded his cart up and went off to find the ice cream. He stood there staring through the glass door, not reading the flavors but keenly aware he was forgetting something.

After looking into his cart, and seeing everything he wanted for the day, he looked down to make sure he was wearing clothes. Not that he’d ever forgotten but maybe this was a dream and he was giving a speech in his boxers again. Everyone loved it so it wasn’t that big of a problem but maybe the people at the grocery store weren’t as kind and understanding as his dream-classmates.

He seemed to be in order there so he tossed in a couple of things of ice cream and went off to get that weird soda Steve liked. Ginger ale? Ginger ale and cough syrup?

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup!

Before another thought could take root, Argyle set off to get the items he’d really come for. Chicken soup. Easy! He got the big can of the good stuff which was going to make Steve feel so good. Everyone liked chicken noodle soup.

Crackers were right nearby. Not on the shelf but hanging out by a post just begging for someone in Argyle’s situation to take advantage. He gently placed a box in the seat of his cart, not wanting to break anything.

Cheese but only because he passed it on the way to ginger ale.

From there, it was the worst item on the list; cough syrup. Argyle stared at the choices, multiple brands, multiple flavors. Grape was the worst flavor anything could come in and Argyle considered himself pretty open to things. So after a few minutes of contemplation, he got the most regular sounding stuff that wasn’t for kids and cherry flavored.

Chicken noodle soup, crackers, ginger ale, and cough syrup. All in the cart. This was going to cure anything that was wrong with Steve. More than that, it was everything he’d set out to get. Argyle pushed the car to the register like he was showing off a prize-winning horse.

Of course, the prize here was the title of best boyfriend in the world.

[wanderingcas]

a ficlet for @gyokujyn​, who requested something based on @fromcenotaphy‘s amazing post: Dean and Eileen coming home from a very successful hunt only to find Cas and Sam doing something chaotic. 

hope you enjoy! :) 

- - - -

“Dude.” Dean grinned over at Eileen, who sat next to him in the passenger’s seat. Their clothes were covered in grime and dirt, but they both had huge smiles on their faces. “You were amazing.”

Eileen waved him off, but shrugged all the same. “I guess I kind of was.”

“You guess?” Dean turned the Impala into the bunker’s underground garage, shaking his head. “I mean the way you got that ghoul? Even my aim isn’t that good.”

Grinning, Eileen unbuckled her seatbelt as they came to a stop. “Well, maybe you need more practice on the shooting range. It’s just a few steps away.” 

“Only if you promise to give me some pointers,” Dean said, shutting the passenger door. 

It was the first time hunting with Eileen, since Sam was nursing a broken ankle from the last hunt. Cas had offered to stick around and keep him company, leaving Eileen and Dean on their own—and Dean had a blast. Not that hunting with Sam and Cas wasn’t fun—but something always seemed to go a little pear-shaped on their excursions. Not with Eileen. She was efficient, sharp, and filled in all the details where Dean didn’t. 

He was going to have to figure out how to get more hunting time with her in the future without hurting Sam’s feelings. 

“So, traditional post-hunt celebration?” Dean asked as they walked to the door connecting the garage to the house. “Grab a cold one, maybe throw a frozen pizza in the oven?”

Eileen scoffed, giving him a look. “That’s your idea of a celebration?”

“Well, yeah. Frozen pizza is one of the best foods on earth. Second best only to fresh pizza.”

Chuckling, Eileen shrugged. “If you say so.” 

She stopped short at the threshold into the bunker, frowning. Head tilted, she sniffed the air. “Wait—do you smell that?”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Yeah. You think Sam tried to cook again?”

“God, I hope not.” Eileen grinned over her shoulder. “Remember those omelets he tried to make?” 

Shuddering, Dean followed her through the door to the library. “Couldn’t look at an egg the same way again for weeks.”

“Yeah, well I—” Eileen stopped, her eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

Dean followed her line of sight; his mouth dropped. “What… the hell?”

The first thing he saw were the fires. One was smaller, in the corner of the room with its flames licking at the bookcase as Sam beat at it frantically with his flannel. The other was in the middle of the room, in a perfect circle, with a very pissed off demon in the middle of it, black eyes flashing and all. Cas stood on the library table, a large book in one hand, the other flapping at the hundreds of insects swarming in the air.

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he spotted them. “Dean, I think Cas somehow summoned the ten plagues!” 

“Uh,” Dean replied.

Eileen held up a hand, pointing at the insects. “Are those... flies?”

“Locusts, I think,” Dean said.

Her finger trailed to the ground, where frogs hopped across their feet. “Are these the ten plagues or something?” 

“All we’re missing is the death of a firstborn,” Dean commented. His eyes went wider. “Hang on, did Jack—”

Cas jumped off the table, visibly out of breath. “Jack is fine. He flew to Jody’s house to hang out with Claire hours ago.” He nodded at Eileen in greeting. “How did the hunt go?”

“How did the hunt go?” Eileen asked. “Why is there a demon in our library?” She gestured to the ring of holy fire. 

Cas winced. “Unfortunately, that’s how this all started.”

“How did—wait, you know what?” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” 

“It started as research,” Sam yelled from across the room. His arm briefly caught on fire before he frantically patted it out.

Rolling her eyes, Eileen strode to the corner where Dean had installed a fire extinguisher months ago. With a click of the glass container, she opened it and pointed the hose at Sam with a sharp, “Stand back!” 

Sam obediently backed away as she extinguished the flames. He ran a sheepish hand through his hair. “One of the plagues was fires, I guess.”

“No kidding,” she deadpanned, setting the extinguisher on the ground. 

“Sam,” Dean began, slapping a locust away, “we were only gone for 24 freaking hours.”

“A lot can happen in a day!” Sam protested. 

“It’s probably worth mentioning that all of this happened within a few minutes,” the demon added, crossing her arms.

Cas glared at her. “We were handling it.” He turned to Dean. “We were handling it.”

“It was just a spell,” Sam added. “Rowena showed it to me before. Unfortunately doing it wrong could release the plagues from when Moses tried to get his people out of Egypt and all that. But it was going well until…” He glanced at Cas.

“Until we misread an ingredient in the book,” Cas finished, sighing as he held out the pages for Dean to read.

Dean stared down at the book. Then up at Cas. Then at Sam. “You thought this book said to get demon juice… instead of lemon juice?” 

Sighing, Sam hung his head. A group of locusts were tangled prisoners in his long hair. “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t think that… demon juice sounded a little weird?”

“We.” Cas cleared his throat. “We thought perhaps it was referring to blood.”

Dean carefully closed the book, handing it back to Cas. He turned to Eileen, and calmly said, “I’m going to have a beer now. Probably five. Would you still like to join me?”

She smiled. “And a frozen pizza?” 

“With a side of ignoring that this ever happened,” Dean agreed. He gestured toward the hallway. Eileen nodded and led the way out of the room.

“So you’re not going to help us fix it?” Cas asked, voice pitching with anxiety. 

“Call us if something catches on fire again,” Dean yelled over his shoulder. 

As he rounded the corner, Dean heard Sam mutter, “I told you he was still mad about when we accidentally turned Jack into a baby.” 

[coeurdastronaute]

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think. 

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry. 

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow. 

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street. 

“You are mad, and we need to talk.” 

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.” 

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car. 

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name. 

Today she was not going to cry. 

At least not on purpose. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” 

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes. 

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.” 

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.” 

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.” 

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry. 

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses. 

“Not a problem. I was in the way.” 

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner. 

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night. 

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it. 

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen. 

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse. 

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult. 

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed. 

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.” 

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.” 

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready.” 

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator. 

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time. 

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever. 

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die. 

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life. 

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest. 

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor. 

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden. 

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?” 

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office. 

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.” 

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering.. 

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?” 

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?” 

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee. 

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.” 

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.” 

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain. 

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.” 

“She’s relentless.” 

“Maybe you’re impossible?” 

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?” 

“I got you, boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before. 

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all. 

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science. 

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation. 

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease. 

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk. 

“About what?” 

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?” 

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.” 

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?” 

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely. 

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate. 

“I have someone I want you to meet with.” 

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.” 

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.” 

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.” 

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.” 

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting. 

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.” 

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” 

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.” 

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating. 

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three. 

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.” 

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow. 

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it. 

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful. 

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top. 

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?” 

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.” 

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look. 

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.” 

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile. 

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.” 

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

[peaceisadirtyword]

Move On V (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! So here it is part 5 of Move On!☺️ a bit long, chaotic, boring, weird... idk, I was a bit angry at myself while writing this, but I hope you like it. Don’t hate me after reading this, there’s no Ivar on this chapter but next one will be intense, I promise. Also sorry because this is way too long, I deleted a entire scene but it’s still long af. Anyway, enjoy!💕 And thanks for reading🥰

Warnings: mentions of alcohol (like a lot), mentions of sex, anxiety, sickness (linked to the previously mentioned alcohol), cheating, the reader is not in a good place, a bit of Hvitserk/Reader and Alfred/Reader. And I think that’s all. 

Words: 5314 (gods I’m really sorry)

Move On Masterlist

gif belongs to @therealcalicali​ (I chose it because it kind of fits this chapter... you’ll see👀)

gif belongs to @ortali​ 

Your phone woke you up. You jumped, startled, and groaned while you considered throwing it out the window. You rolled to your side, ignoring the pair of arms that hugged your waist and took your phone, barely opening your eyes before answering. 

"Hello?" 

"Y/N" Alfred's voice woke you up immediately, you hummed and rubbed your eyes as you yawned. 

"Hi" you sighed "Good morning"

He laughed, and you frowned softly before standing up and opening the curtains, widening your eyes when you saw the sun high in the sky, almost if it was about to go down again. 

"Good afternoon, you mean" he chuckled "It's two pm"

"What? Oh my god, no, I did it again" you moaned.

Alfred's laugh made you laugh too, you could almost see him shaking his head and smiling.

"It's okay, you probably needed it" he said softly "Don't worry" 

"I'm going to fail every single class" you groaned. 

"You won't, I'll give you my notes" he said "Can I go to yours in, let's say, half an hour? I would like to talk to you" 

"Sure" you nodded, yawning again "Come"

"Alright, I'll be there" he cleared his throat "See you"

"Bye" you muttered before hanging up. 

You had forgotten to set the alarm again, you really needed to stop drinking. 

Your eyes went back to the bed, leaving your phone on the bedside table before realizing what you had done and why you had to take someone's arms off of your waist before getting up. 

"Oh God, oh no no please no" you groaned rubbing your face as you grabbed your pillow, hitting his bare chest "Hvitserk!"

"What?" he sighed, not even opening his eyes.

You groaned again, laying down on the bed and closing your eyes. 

"I can't believe this" you muttered "My life is a joke"

"You were much happier to have me here last night" Hvitserk glared at you, hitting you with the same pillow. 

"Hvitserk... Did we have sex?" you turned your head to look at him, biting your lip. 

"You seriously don't remember?" he raised an eyebrow. 

You took a deep breath. You did remember some things, but preferred to forget it. 

"I really need to stop drinking" 

"Come on, Y/N" he chuckled "It's fine, we are both adults, adults can have sex without commitment, you did nothing wrong" 

"Hvitserk, you're my best friend and my boy... My ex boyfriend's brother" you shook your head. 

"And? I'm not going to stop being your friend now, Y/N" he sat on the bed "In fact, we can do this again whenever you want, because I don't remember many things either but the things I do remember are good... I'm joking, don't hit me" he put his hands up with a pout. 

You held back a smile. At least, you were happy to see it wasn't awkward. 

"We're a mess, Hvitty" 

"Maybe" he shrugged "But at least we're having a good time"

"Anyway" you got up, walking around to look for your clothes "Are you hungry?" 

Hvitserk didn't answer, raising an eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes as you entered the bathroom. 

"What a stupid question" you chuckled "Okay, I'm going to have a shower, you can maybe get dressed and cook something?" 

"I would but" he pointed at you, making you look down to realize you were wearing his shirt. You widened your eyes and then closed them, shaking your head slowly "And I ate you out twice last night, I think it's only fair if you cook" he narrowed his eyes. 

You covered your face again, sighing. 

"Okay, I'll cook, you can look in the wardrobe, there's some clothes in there" you muttered before closing the door. 

Leaning down on the sink, you looked at your own reflection on the mirror. Ivar's clothes. He had a lot of clothes in your flat that you didn't really think about after the break up. And now you were giving them to his brother. The brother you slept with. 

Your headache intensified and you made an effort to shut it out, blocking any possible thoughts that might enter your mind. 

You didn't really want to step out of the shower, but you had no other choice. The last thing you wanted was for Alfred to arrive and see a shirtless Hvitserk on your bed as you had a shower. You left your hair wet and dressed comfortably before stepping out of the bathroom. Hvitserk was still in bed, scrolling down his phone with a bored expression. 

"You can have a shower" you cleared your throat, suddenly shy "I'm going to cook something for... Lunch?" 

"Nice" he groaned "I'm starving... Hey, are you okay?" 

You bit your lip, taking a deep breath. 

"I'm just regretting my life decisions" you shrugged "But I do that a lot" 

"Y/N" Hvitserk sounded a bit more serious, and this time you looked at him "Stop thinking about it, okay? You needed to unwind a bit, to relax, and to stop thinking about him, it's just sex, it won't change anything, I'm still the same person and so are you" 

"I know, Hvitty" you muttered, looking down to the floor with a small pout "But this can't happen again" 

"Fine, if you don't want to, we won't do this again, but don't waste your time regretting things you've done and enjoyed" he got up, ruffling your hair before entering the bathroom "It's not worth it"

He had a point. His words replayed on your mind as you went to the kitchen, standing in front of the nearly empty fridge. You were finishing the scrambled eggs and the toasts when the doorbell rang. Quickly, you turned the stove off and walked to the door. 

Alfred looked like a real prince. He had a bouquet of flowers on his hands, and his cheeks were reddened. His green eyes looked at you almost shyly, and your mouth parted in surprise. 

"I... Hello" you chuckled, nervously. 

"Hi" he cleared his throat "I'm sorry if you think this is too much, Torvi nearly forced me to" he glanced at the flowers. White lilies. They matched Alfred's energy so well "But I thought you might like them" 

"Yeah" you snapped out of your trance, shaking your head as you stepped back to let him enter the flat "They're beautiful, thanks, I just... Didn't expect it" 

"I also have the notes" he frowned softly, making you laugh. 

"Okay, thanks, I'll... Put these on water" you took them carefully, admiring them for a moment before leaving them on the table while you looked for a recipient big enough. 

"So... Um..." Alfred cleared his throat "Sorry for waking you up this morning" 

"Oh, that's okay, I think it was about time I woke up" you giggled "You don't need to apologize" 

"And... Did you have any plans for today?" he bit his lip. 

"I intended to be a functional adult during the day, but, as you can see, that is not going to happen" you shrugged "And I have one of Torvi's girls night in a few hours"

"She mentioned that" he whispered "I... Would you like to go out sometime one of these days? I'd like to take you out for dinner or lunch, because I don't think you're eating properly" he eyed the toasts and scrambled eggs you abandoned on the pan, making you laugh.

"You're probably right" you nodded "And yeah, sure, that would be nice" 

Alfred's eyes lightened up, and his bright smile made you feel some butterflies in your stomach. He really was the sweetest boy in the world. 

"Cool" he nodded "Any preference?"

"Not really, I'm fine with a pizza" you shrugged with a smile. It felt good to make plans with someone that wasn't related to your ex boyfriend. 

"I'll stick to Italian, then" 

"Thank you" you repeated "For the flowers, and the notes, and for checking up on me" you giggled again "You're the best"

Alfred blushed again. His heart beat faster and faster as he thought you looked really cute with damp hair an oversized hoodie and a pair of old sweatpants. You always looked cute, but that day he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"It's nothing, really, I just care about you" he shrugged, looking away in embarrassment. You bit your lip and moved to hug him softly. Alfred froze, not used to close physical contact with women, but then he moved his hands to your waist, hugging you still a bit hesitant. 

"Seriously, thank you, for everything" you muttered against his neck, and he nodded, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, he cupped your face, making you look at him with a confused frown before he leant in, pressing his lips against yours. 

You widened your eyes in surprise, but kissed him back. He kissed you sweetly, softly, almost like he was afraid to hurt you. Closing your eyes, you let yourself hug his neck and deepen the kiss. He barely moved, with his arm around your neck and his other hand on your face, caressing your cheek softly with his thumb. 

Alfred sighed against your lips, and just when you were about to start running your fingers through his hair, the floor of the kitchen creaked, startling the both of you. Hvitserk stood a few meters from you, with a towel on his hands and his eyebrows raised. His lips were starting to curve on a smirk. 

"Hello"

"Oh my god, Hvitserk" you muttered, covering your face. 

"I... Didn't know you weren't alone" Alfred frowned while glaring at Hvitserk, whose attention had been diverted to the food on the counter. 

"Yeah, sorry, Hvitserk spent the night and... I probably should have mentioned that" you sighed. 

"No, it's okay, don't apologize" he cleared his throat and tried to smile, even thought it looked more like a grimace "I should leave, I just wanted to..." he didn't finish the phrase nor looked at you. 

"Okay" you muttered, walking behind him as he approached the door "Thank you again"

"It was nothing" he finally looked at you with a small smile "Take care, Y/N, see you" 

He left before you could even open your mouth, and you sighed again, bumping your head softly against the door. 

"You know, when I said you should move on I didn't mean 'fuck every single person you know in less than 24 hours'" Hvitserk laughed with his mouth full, making you roll your eyes. 

"I don't know what happened" you closed the door, walking back to the kitchen and frowning when you realized Hvitserk was eating all the food. 

"This time you can't blame the alcohol" he laughed "He brought you flowers, at least he worked for it" 

You caressed the lilies absentmindedly, your heart breaking softly at the thought of Alfred thinking you had used him. 

"He kissed me" you muttered.

"I'd be surprised if he didn't" Hvitserk winked at you "The poor boy has been in love with you for years" 

It took you a few seconds to process his words. 

"Excuse me?"

He smiled, yawning as he opened the fridge again. 

"Everyone knows it, Y/N, even my brother" he shrugged "Why do you think Ivar couldn't stand him? He was jealous, it didn't help that you have to be so nice with everyone" 

Ivar. Fuck, you were thinking about him again. You cursed his name a few times and suddenly missed him more than ever. This was his fault. He was the one that kept you sane. His absence made you go crazy. 

"So you're saying Alfred likes me and everyone knew it and no one told me?" 

"I'm sure someone did, but the fact that you're oblivious to absolutely everything doesn't help, it's a bit obvious" he raised an eyebrow "He kissed you, I think that's a pretty good confirmation" 

You sighed, letting yourself fall on the couch covering your face with your arm. You needed some alcohol to cope with this.

_________________________________________________

"So you slept with Hvitserk and then kissed Alfred? I'm proud of you" Thora giggled, laying on your bed as you walked around the room, trying on different clothes after she appeared on your door looking like a model. You felt betrayed, as you had made her promise you both would wear jeans and maybe a cute top when you called to invite her to Torvi's girls' night. You needed moral support. 

"I'm losing my mind, Thora" you sighed, sitting down next to her as you drank the rest of your glass of wine. You were already dizzy. 

"Why? You're single, you should have done this before" she shrugged "I bet Ivar wasn't feeling bad when he fucked Freydis for the first time after leaving you" 

You winced at that. It was a thought that had crossed your mind more than once, did he miss you at all? Did those last four years mean something to him? How much time had taken him to start acting like a couple with Freydis? 

"Sorry, was I too harsh?" Thora bit her lip, looking at you with a worried gaze. 

"It's okay" you shook your head. The sooner you realized Ivar was going on with his life and not paying a single thought to you, the better "It's just... I slept with his brother, my best friend" you groaned "And then I kissed Alfred" 

"Stop thinking about it, Y/N" she rolled her eyes "You did what you did, you enjoyed it, what's the point of overthinking it? Just wear the tight dress and the heels, do your make up and let's go partying, you need more than a glass of wine" 

You looked at the now empty glass, pouting. 

"Actually, it's the third glass of wine" 

She widened her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay, then maybe just drink a couple of beers after this" 

You nodded, standing up to put the dress on. 

"I keep saying you and Hvitserk would make a really good couple" you smiled softly. 

"The guy you had sex with?"

Narrowing your eyes, you turned around to glare at her again. 

"It was friendly sex" 

"But was it good, at least?" Thora giggled. 

You laughed, shaking your head. 

"I barely remember but... Yeah, it was good" you shrugged "Hvitserk is probably the most experienced one of his brothers"

"Better than...?"

Your smile faded as you looked at yourself in the mirror. No, no one would ever been better than Ivar. Not to you. 

_______________________________________

Alfred didn't answer your messages. You had sent him five texts, deciding to stop before you crossed the line of the actual harassment. He hadn't replied, which was strange because he always replied almost immediately. He was definitely mad at you, and now you felt like the worst person ever. 

"Stop looking at your phone" Thora rolled her eyes, slightly annoyed "We're here to have a good time, aren't we?" she pointed at the club Torvi had chosen as you stood just next to the door.

"I suppose so..."

"I know that the word fun hasn't been on your vocabulary lately, but tonight just try to forget about your ex, the guy that likes you and about the friend you slept with last night" 

You nodded. She was right. No drama that night, just relax and alcohol. You needed a shot, though. 

"You're right, yeah, I'm going to..." after checking your notifications for the last time, you turned your phone off, burying it inside your purse and smiling proudly at Thora, who sighed and hugged you softly. 

"Torvi said they were arriving" you informed "So they should be here..." you looked around, scanning the street until you saw her, waving at you excitedly as she approached with the rest of the group "Soon" you muttered as you saw her walking next to Torvi and a girl with black hair. Fuck, no. 

Freydis shot you a wide smile. They reached you before you could react and, maybe, run away. 

"Hi!" Torvi hugged you excitedly "How are you? Sorry we're a bit late"

"That's okay" you cleared your throat "Um... This is Thora" you ignored the lump that appeared on your throat. 

"Hello! It's nice to meet you" Torvi smiled "I'm Torvi, these are Gunhild, Blaeja and Freydis... Y/N, you don't know Blaeja, do you?"

Thora did widen her eyes at the mention of Freydis' name, and eyed you worryingly as she greeted everyone. You could barely speak. Your heart raced at the sight of her and it didn't help that she kept staring at you with a smile. 

"It's so good to see you" Freydis linked her arm with yours, making you tense up almost immediately "We never had the chance to catch up!" 

You could feel everyone's eyes on you, nearly waiting for you to start crying. Torvi bit her lip and looked at you worryingly, while Thora just glared at Freydis. You wanted nothing more than push her away and run, feeling as trapped as you had felt when you ran into them at the cafeteria. That last time you could barely speak and ran to the toilet to calm yourself down, but this time... 

"I'm fine" you mimicked her wide smile "Better than I ever was" 

Freydis looked surprised, maybe she thought you'd be intimidated by her. But she looked even happier now. 

"I'm happy to hear that!" she sounded genuine, and this time you were the one surprised "I always tell Ivar we should invite you and Alfred to have dinner or maybe have a drink, but I think he doesn't like your boyfriend very much... He is your boyfriend, right?" she widened her eyes, acting like a girl that just had a reunion with her best friend from high school. 

"Um... Alfred and I are just friends" you raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh" she pouted "A shame, the two of you look perfect together" 

"I know, right?" Torvi joined as she pushed the two of you into the club, winking at the doorman when he lifted the rope so you could pass "I always tell them, they look really cute together" she looked relived that you hadn't cried yet, and she offered you a sympathetic smile "And Y/N deserves a guy like Alfred, he even skips work to see her, and we're talking about a guy that enters the office at six am and leaves at twelve even if he's the boss" she giggled. 

You cleared your throat, finding it awkward to be talking about this with your ex's girlfriend. Excusing yourself, you approached Thora again. She had a frown on her face and narrowed her eyes at Freydis. 

"What's this about?" she whispered as you left your coats on the wardrobe "What is she doing here?" 

"I have no idea" you sighed "I need three drinks and two shots" 

"I'll buy them for you" she patted your shoulder with a sad smile. You were more convinced than ever that your life was a joke, and whoever controlled your fate was having a blast doing so. 

_____________________________________________

Turns out that the drinks and the shots didn't help. Instead, they left you a bit shaky, dizzy and with a headache. The loud music and the blinding lights weren't helping either. You'd give your life to go back home and get into bed again to sleep for days. 

But, if you were going to put up with a beautiful, loud and nice Freydis, you needed another drink. You stumbled to the bar, followed by Torvi, who looked a bit wary when you announced your intentions. Thora had gotten on with Gunnhild pretty well, and Blaeja and Freydis looked like best friends.

"I didn't know she was coming" she reassured you as soon as you were alone "Blaeja invited her and... I'm really sorry"

"It's fine" you shook your head "I'll get over it" 

Torvi nodded slowly. 

"Did Alfred visit you this morning?" her smile faltered when you got your drink and drank half of it at once. 

"Yeah" you looked away, nervously "He brought me his notes and... Lilies" 

Torvi looked delighted.

"And... Are you going to see him soon?" her big eyes scrutinized your face. 

"Maybe" you shrugged. For a moment, you nearly told her what had happened that morning, but you didn't really want to talk about it. Not drunk, when you could accidentally say that you had sex with Hvitserk when you were too drunk and thinking about Ivar, and that then you had kissed Alfred in the kitchen as Hvitserk finished his shower. "I'll call him" 

She looked happy with that answer, and turned around to order her own drink. You looked away, to the crowd of people singing and dancing happily. Not so long ago, you had been one of them. Your eyes found Freydis and you felt like crying again. She looked happy, and stunning, and her eyes were lightened up. Did you look like that when you were with Ivar? Probably. He had his own way of loving, and he made you feel so unique and special even when you weren't in the same room as him. 

For a moment, you understood her. Ivar had that mysterious thing, maybe it was his intense eyes, his stare, his smile or his bad mood, but you knew you were going to fall hard as soon as you met him. He was beautiful, and you knew it was impossible to resist him, you knew it because you indeed fell hard, and continued falling for years, until you were sure you wouldn't be able to get up again. Maybe she had felt that too. Maybe she fell in love with him and just fought harder than you. You couldn't blame her, not even if every single part of your body wanted to demonize her and make her guilty, in the end it was Ivar who chose her.

"Are you coming?" Torvi had gotten her drink, and now was walking back to the dance floor.

"I'm going to stay here for a couple of minutes, I'll go later" you smiled at her. She stared at you for a couple of seconds, but nodded and left. Your throat burned and you felt like crying again. The pressure on your chest intensified and your ears started ringing. Taking a deep breath, you got up from your seat and stumbled, leaning into the dark wall until you reached the toilet. 

Sighing in relief when you realized it was empty, you leant into the sink, trying to control your breath as your entire body shook. It was nearly impossible to breath, and the room was spinning around you. You were regretting every single drop of alcohol you drank that night when you moved to the toilet, closing the stall door behind you before kneeling to throw up. 

Luckily, no one else entered. Your throat burned and you were already sleepy when you finished, sitting down to lean your head onto the wall, regretting every single decision you had taken in the past twenty four hours. 

In fact, you even regretted the moment that you saw Ivar Lothbrok for the first time. 

Your makeup was nearly ruined, and you looked like you just came out of a horror movie. After trying to fix it a bit, you took your small purse and went out of the toilet. Just when you were opening the door, you heard a giggle to your right, which startled and made you frown at the same time. You really didn't want to see anyone in that moment. 

The emergency exit was the only thing to your right, and you got a glimpse of a familiar shade of blonde hair leaving just before the door shut. You frowned, your head hurt and your legs were weak, you wanted nothing more than go home, wash your teeth, have a quick shower and sleep for the entire weekend. But you were curious now. Was that...?

Looking around to see if anyone saw you, you walked to the door slowly, your head pumping at the rhythm of the loud music. You opened it just a bit, enough to poke your head out and look around. It led to an alley, full of trash bins and a single streetlight, but enough to differentiate the two people that were making out passionately a few meters from you. You raised an eyebrow and were about to leave when the guy moved a bit. He was tall, but when he moved, the light hit the girl squeezed between him and the brick wall, and you froze. 

Freydis closed her eyes and tilted his head as he kissed her neck with a smile on her lips. Then he kissed her again. You walked back slowly, closing the door softly to avoid making any noise, but as soon as you were back on the hallway, you nearly ran to the entrance, reaching the dance floor and crossing it as fast as your shaky legs allowed you. 

"Y/N!" 

Thora grabbed your arm, making you jump. She frowned as soon as she saw your face. 

"What happened? Where were you? You look like you've seen a ghost" 

You shook your head, rubbing your face. 

"I was in the toilet, I..." you sighed when the rest of the girls approached you "I'm not feeling well, I should go home" you forced a smile.

"Hey, are you okay?" Torvi looked genuinely worried "We can go with you..."

"No, no, please just stay and... Have fun" you shrugged "Don't mind me"

"I'm going with you" Thora nodded, glaring at you when you tried to argue "I'm not letting you leave all alone while drunk, Y/N, so shut up and go take your coat" 

Sighing in defeat, you followed her to the wardrobe. Torvi kept walking behind you, but she couldn't reach you until you stopped. 

"Hey, Y/N, if this is about Freydis being here, I swear..."

"It's not" you interrupted her, a bit more rudely than you intended "It has nothing to do with her" you lied "I'm just tired, I don't feel well and I think I should go home, that's all" you softened your tone and tried to smile.

She nodded slowly, but kept looking at you as you took your coat, putting it on before walking outside of the club without waiting for Thora. The noise was driving you crazy. 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" Torvi followed you outside. You were starting to lose your patience "I can call Alfred and tell him to go to yours..." 

"I don't think Alfred wants to see me now" you snapped "He won't answer my messages, he doesn't want to see me, I fucked up" you nearly yelled, your eyes filled with tears and you felt Thora's hand on your arm, caressing it softly. 

"What are you talking about?" she looked surprised "I don't..."

"Hvitserk spent the night" you nearly sobbed "Alfred came and he was there, so he left, and now he won't reply to me"

"Hvitserk?" Torvi frowned "What do you mean he spent the night? I thought Alfred and you..."

"We're not dating!" you raised your voice involuntarily. The tears started falling down your cheeks and some of the people that walked down the street looked at you. You must have looked like a mad woman... At least, that's how you felt "Alfred is my friend, and I never knew he intended to be more than that until this morning, when he brought me flowers and kissed me! I was drunk and I slept with Hvitserk, and what about it? I'm single, my boyfriend left me for someone else, I can have sex with whoever I want!"

Torvi glared at you. You felt kind of bad for yelling at her. It wasn't her fault and you were just venting, but it felt so good to say it...

"Yes, you can do whatever you want, but the fact that you're hurt doesn't mean you can hurt someone else too" she pressed her lips together "Alfred really likes you, so please don't break his heart"

You raised an eyebrow. You could feel the anger radiating off of you, and Thora might have felt it too because she gripped your arm more tightly. 

"I didn't know" you were exasperated "I didn't know he liked me, I never wanted to hurt anyone, Torvi, but you can go and think I'm the worst person in the world if you want to" you glared at her "You know?You could have had this same conversation with Ivar, when he literally flirted with someone else in front of me and in front of everyone, but you chose to ignore it, and now I'm the bad one for hurting Alfred when we're just friends" you rolled your eyes. Thora called your name softly, pushing you away from Torvi "Anyway, have fun" you nearly spat before turning around to leave. 

____________________________________

Thora left the warm cup of tea on the table in front of you. You dried the tears with the back of your hand. Dressed on your pajamas and freshly showered you did feel a bit better. At least you weren't dizzy and your head didn't hurt that much anymore. The pressure on your chest was still there, but it was easier to ignore. 

"Hey" your friend caressed your hair softly "Come on, drink it and we'll go to bed, stop thinking" 

You stared at the cup for a couple of minutes, until you finally grabbed it, taking a sip. The warm liquid relaxed you and calmed you down a bit, and you closed your eyes to hold onto that feeling. 

"Y/N, you can't keep doing this to yourself" Thora whispered "You have to move on, but drinking and torturing yourself like this isn't the solution" 

"Hvitserk said the same" you whined "I acted like a real asshole, didn't I?" 

"Well, you were right" she smiled "It's not your fault, you were drunk and nervous and you just exploded. Seeing Freydis was too much, maybe" 

Freydis. Fuck, you had forgotten about her and the guy she was kissing on that alley. Suddenly, you felt like throwing up again. 

You took the purse you had left on the table, grabbing your phone and turning it on. You groaned when seeing the huge amount of messages and missed calls you had. Alfred replied. And he called you too. 

I'm really sorry, I was working and my phone died

I'm not mad at you, I just wasn't expecting Hvitserk to be there again

And the most recent one made you bit your lip. 

Torvi called me and told me what happened, are you okay? Do you need anything? Please call me back, I think we need to talk

Torvi and Gunnhild had also called you. You felt even worse when you read Torvi's texts. She apologized and asked you to call as soon as you could. 

Hvitserk's made you smile. Have fun tonight, but don't do anything I wouldn't do. You definitely fell in love with the wrong Lothbrok. 

And then you saw it. With everything that had happened, you had forgotten about the text you sent to Ivar, and never looked at his reply. Hell, you thought he wouldn't even reply. 

Yeah, thanks.

For some reason, it made you angry. He broke your heart, he left you and showed he didn't care about you in any way. And when you heard he was going through a rough time, you still reached out to him, just to receive that answer, as if you were the one that did things wrong. 

Your finger hesitated just before you pressed the call icon. Thora raised an eyebrow and watched as you locked the phone and left it on the table, sighing in annoyance. 

"I think I'm going to sleep"

_______________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi​ @alicedopey​ @lol-haha-joke​ @hallowed-heathen​ @naaladareia​ @tephi101​ @captstefanbrandt​ @love-hate-love​ @titty-teetee​ @readsalot73​ @moondustmemories​ @therealcalicali​ @blushingskywalker​ @awkwardfangirl02​ @gruffle1​ @justacripple​ @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly​ @letsrunawaytotomorrow​ @inforapound​ @sallydelys​ @hellogabysblog​ @winchesterwife27​ @hecohansen31​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​ @eteramfools​ @tgrrose​ @flokidottirsstuff @lovessce​ @tootie-fruity​ @didiintheblog​ @alexhandersenx​ @belovedcherry​ @fantasydevil2002​ @xceafh​ @astrape-the-weatherwitch​ @destynelseclipsa​ @poisonous00​ @littlebear423​ @justbloodlydreaming @xbellaxcarolinax​ @soleil-dor​ @geekydane-post​ @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800​ @momowhoo​ @pedrolorian​ @flokisdaughter​ @crazybunnyladysworld​ @anotherfan07​ @heavenly1927​ @jungkxxkk​

okay I think I have everyone but if I don’t please tell me :( Tumblr won’t send me notifications💔 

I know Ivar wasn’t on this chapter! but you'll have plenty of Ivar on the next, I swear!🥰

[kuroo-shitsurou]

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

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

word count: 4.4k

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

You checked the clock.

3:28 AM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked at the calendar.

July 20th.

It was the day of Childe's birthday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And... Here you were.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

Sent 6:04 AM.

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

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

Received 6:06 AM.

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

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

Sent 6:08 AM.

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

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

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

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

Received 6:15 AM.

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

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

6:45 AM.

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

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

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

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

7:10 AM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're welcome, _____!"

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

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

Sent 7:15 AM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ _____ you're gonna make me cry ]

Sent 7:28 AM.

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

Sent 7:29 AM.

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

Sent 7:30 AM.

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

Sent 7:31 AM.

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

Sent 7:31 AM.

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

Sent 7:32 AM.

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

Sent 7:34 AM.

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

There was a caption beside a heart sticker which read:

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

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

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

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

Childe sneezed.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I see."

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

"Oh? Maybe history majors as well?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your point is?"

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

"Childe bought you some sushi."

"See what I mean?!"

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

"Do tell."

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

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

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

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

"I... see."

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

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

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

"How did you even know?"

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I see."

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

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

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

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

Received 9:41 AM.

He frowned.

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

Sent 9:42 AM.

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

Received 9:44 AM.

[ 3 Images Attached ]

Received 9:44 AM.

Childe's eyes widened. Ellin sent three photos.

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

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

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

"What the..."

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

"What the hell?"

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

[ Where are you rn? Answer me. ]

Sent 9:46 AM.

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

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

[ None of your business. ]

Received 10:05 AM.

[laurentspup]

I wish you would write a 'food as a metaphor for love' type story

anon!!! i'm very sorry this took me forever and posted one or two unrelated fics since i received this but i did it i finished!! it is short and sweet and i hope this is to your liking. i enjoyed making this fic so thank you so much for your prompt!!! i just really loved the idea of damen and laurent preparing food together with practiced familiarity. enjoy!!

French Toast, Sunday

The sun soaks in through the windows of the kitchen, the sunlight catching on the coffee mugs held by Laurent’s husband, Damen. It’s a quiet Sunday morning, both of them enjoying the silence and comfort of being with each other.

Laurent sits on the stool by the island counter while Damen pours coffee in both their mugs. It's a couple mug, gifted to them by Auguste on their last anniversary. Damen’s has a lion on his, while Laurent’s has a snake. It’s unconventional, barely understood by their new friends, but for everyone who has been in their life since they started dating, they know what those animals meant.

“Local toast or international toast?”

“Damen, I told you many times, just because it’s called French toast—“

“Doesn’t mean I can call it international toast.” Damen finishes because he has heard Laurent answer this to him a million times since he took him to a French restaurant on their second date. “But it’s still not made in America—”

“So it’s not local.” Laurent responds because they have this conversation all the time, but they never get tired of repeating it.

Damen smiles back, fondly reminiscing all the times they said this to each other. The first time in that French restaurant, those awkward days when Laurent was still closed off, and Damen right by his side when he decided to open the gates of his walls and guided Damen in.

Laurent gets off the stool and walks to the cabinets above their microwave to grab ingredients for French toast. Damen treads to him and hugs him from the back. He lays the coffee in front of Laurent and kisses his hair. Laurent leans back to his warmth while getting cinnamon and sugar.

Damen raises his hand to grab the flour that Laurent couldn’t reach, not because he’s small, but because Damen is just that big.

“Giant animal.” He comments even though he’s actually grateful for his husband’s height.

“You love it.” Damen replies as he places down the flour and walks to the refrigerator to get eggs, butter, and milk.

Laurent sighs dramatically as he walks to another cabinet near their stove to grab a pan. It’s true though, he loved Damen’s… proportions, but pretending to be bothered by the size difference they had is a running joke he liked to keep bringing up. Damen chuckles from the other side of the kitchen, knowing perfectly well what his husband is doing.

“Syrup and whipped butter?” Damen asks as he pulls drawers open to get bowls for the batter.

“You know me so well.” Laurent answers, handing him a whisk, then walking off to get the knife and handheld mixer.

“If I didn’t, you’d throw a fit.” Damen jokes.

Laurent stops mid-crouch to stare at Damen. “I’d throw a fit?” He stands up with the knife in his hand, trying his best not to point it at his husband. A threatening aura radiates off him, but Damen just smiles wider. “Tell me who ignored their boyfriend for two days just because their boyfriend genuinely didn’t know what sport they played?”

“High school me shouldn’t count.” Damen says, happiness heard in his voice while pouring milk in a cup.

Laurent rolls his eyes and crouches again to get the mixer. “Oh okay. What about last week then?”

“Last week?”

“When you didn’t kiss me goodnight because I didn’t offer you the olives on my pizza.”

“I know you hate olives and you know I like olives. It’s that simple.”

“I do know that! I was waiting for the waiter so I can ask for an extra plate to put the olives there, but you were already pouting. So I didn’t give it to you.” Laurent stands beside Damen on the island and grabs the butter to slice and then melt in the microwave.

Damen cracks the eggs over the bowl with a big smile on his face. He sips his coffee as he listens to Laurent go on about how annoying it is when Damen thinks he doesn’t remember anything about him. Laurent mirrors that smile despite the subject of their conversation, despite his complaints. It’s any other light banter they have every Sunday morning when they get to prepare breakfast together.

“Okay… you’re right. I’m the one who throws tantrums.”

“Like a big baby.” Laurent sticks the bowl of butter in the microwave. He presses ten and walks to the small pantry cabinet to get the bread. “But then again, for some reason, I love it.”

“Love you and your quirks too, sweetheart.” Damen takes out the bowl of melted butter from the microwave and pours it in the mixture. “Like how you like being the one to always whip the batter.” Laurent is back by his side now, mixing together the wet and dry ingredients. He picks up the whisk to mix. “So kinky.”

Laurent groans. “Damen, it’s too early to be horny.”

Damen laughs and grabs Laurent’s ass while taking the other half of the unmelted butter and dumping it in a different bowl. “Never too early, sweetheart.”

“So kinky.” Laurent repeats his words mockingly and Damen laughs.

He lets go of Laurent’s ass to grab the mixer. Laurent takes that opportunity for revenge and slaps his husband’s meaty butt. Damen yelps in surprise and stares back at Laurent in shock with raised eyebrows. He just winks at him.

“And you said it was too early to be horny.”

“You started it, sweetheart.”

Damen shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes crinkling at the side with how wide his smile is. He cherishes the ease, the comfort, and the familiarity he has with his husband. He can’t help it when he closes the gap between him and Laurent and dips his head to kiss his cheek.

“What’s that for?” Laurent asks, now taking out bread from the plastic and laying it on a plate.

Damen hands Laurent the bowl of butter and the mixer, then he takes one bread and dips it in the batter.

“Nothing. You just make me happy.”

Laurent flushes, despite all the years he has spent with Damen, the simplest words still render him helpless. He turns on the mixer and over the sound, he replies.

“You make me really happy too.”

He knows Damen hears it.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 8

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 3,734

Warnings: none

A/N: If this chapter had a name it would be “me, you, and steve’. Also I know how infuriating they are, so oblivious and dumb but isn’t it the point of pining ;) Thanks for your patience!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky’s cab pulled over to the curb in front of his building. He tugged on the lapels of his coat, pulling it tighter around him, and braced himself for the blast of cold air waiting for him on the other side.

He hated the cold, hated winter. It reminded him of the day he lost his arm, alone on that godforsaken mountain until Steve found him. But he could deal with the cold if it meant he’d find you on the other side of that door.

He knew you were home, you had texted him about an hour ago telling him that you had a surprise for him. It had made him smile. He’d hurried home, desperate to see you even though he’d seen you that morning.

He had it bad.

He’d been restless since the gala, unable to sleep without dreaming of you, your velvet dress in a heap on his bedroom floor, your scent lingering on his bed sheets. He would wake up bathed in sweat, on the edge of coming.

He would deal with it with an ice cold shower.

Bucky had accepted the fact that his feelings for you weren’t as innocent as they once were. He had always thought you were strong, full of life and a little awkward, but lately he’d been wanting to kiss you, touch you, feel your warmth against him.

He wanted it so badly it hurt.

He wouldn’t say he loved you. He certainly felt something for you but love was something foreign to him. Sometimes he wondered if his feelings were even real. He’d gone from living an extremely solitary life to spending every single day with you. It could have easily been a product of his loneliness and your soft spoken demeanour.

He had stopped counting the number of times he’d almost kissed you on the lips. The urge was always there, eating away at him, but he always caught himself at the last moment, his lips landing on your forehead, your cheek or your temple instead.  

“I’m home,” he shouted, closing the door behind him. He bent to untie his shoes and kicked them off while he unzipped his coat. “What’s the big surprise? Is it something we can eat?”

He hung his coat next to yours on the hook and walked down the short corridor that led to the kitchen. As he walked, he became suspicious of the silence that hung in the air. Slowly he peeked into the kitchen and found you in the company of someone he thought he’d never see again.

“Steve?”

“Not edible, sorry, Buck.”

Bucky’s face broke out into an instant smile, ear to ear and ecstatic. “Fuckin’ hell, Rogers, you look like a yeti.”

Steve barked out a laugh as he stepped forward and hugged him. He wrapped both his arms around Bucky, almost lifting him off the ground despite knowing how uncomfortable hugs made him feel. Chuckling, Bucky returned his hug with one arm; the only kind of hug he could give.

“I’m happy to see you.” Steve pulled back and held him at arm's length.

Bucky looked over Steve’s shoulder at you who were standing behind the kitchen counter, grinning at them. “Is that my surprise?” You nodded. “Ugh, I was kind of hoping for pizza honestly.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m joking, man.”

Steve returned to his seat and Bucky followed. You grabbed a mug from the cupboard and fixed Bucky a cup of coffee. He gave you a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with this punk on your own,” Bucky told you. “Did he give you a hard time?”

“Nah,” you said. “He was pretty sheepish. Also, I almost gave him a heart attack.”

Bucky burst out laughing as Steve’s face and neck flushed red. You told Bucky the story of how you and Steve met outside his apartment building. Bucky doubled over laughing when you made a pretty spot-on impression of Steve’s confused face. Steve rolled his eyes at your theatrics, a smile on his lips.

“In my defense, no stranger has ever screamed my name like that.”

“Oh, if the alley behind the church could talk, it’d call you a fucking liar, Steve.”

“First, shut up!” Steve jokingly pushed Bucky off his seat. “Second, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” That sobered you both up faster than a cold shower. Steve caught a furtive sideways glance between you and Bucky. “Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you replied with a smile. “I’m his, uh-” you trailed off and looked to Bucky for help but he was unable to speak. “I’m his roommate.”

“Oooh! Okay.”

Was that relief on Steve’s face? Bucky’s stare hardened. A muscle in his jaw jumped when Steve engaged you in a conversation. He asked you how long you’d been living with Bucky and if you liked the apartment. His tone was conversational but Bucky knew him like the back of his hand, he knew Steve was flirting with you.

“Are you staying for dinner?” you asked Steve. Bucky’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. You picked up the laminated meal plan from on the counter. “Creamed spinach and baked eggs.”

“Sounds great,” Steve agreed.

“You don’t like spinach,” Bucky grumbled under his breath.

“I’m not twelve anymore,” Steve countered with an arched brow. It made you laugh. “Besides I haven’t eaten a homemade meal in... wow, probably years.” Steve turned to you. “I don’t know if Bucky told you but I’m a landscape photographer. I live in the wild most of the year. It’s kinda like travelling by foot on an endless backpacking trip. It’s amazing but the food is disgusting.”

“Yikes!” You grimaced in sympathy. “Well, Bucky’s an amazing chef. I keep telling him we should open a restaurant together.”

You walked over to Steve and mock-whispered in his ear. “If we ask nicely, he’ll probably make us some garlic bread.”

That made Bucky smile. His first instinct was to answer with his usual ‘I’d do anything for you, angel’ but he couldn’t say that in front of Steve so he bit his tongue. He saw the disappointment in your eyes, as if you were expecting that usual answer too.

“I should go upstairs,” you said. “I have a painting to finish. Have fun, boys.”

Steve watched you go, then he shook his head and heaved out a sigh. He waited until he was sure you were out of earshot before he turned to Bucky.

“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” he said. “So, are you two...”

“We’re friends,” Bucky said.

Steve nodded. “Is she single?”

“As far as I know.”

Bucky’s jaw was clenched hard, the tendons in his neck looked like they were about to snap. He loved Steve like a brother but, goddammit, he wanted him to leave and never return. He balled his hand into a fist, feeling a visceral urge to punch something.

Yet, Steve seemed completely oblivious to Bucky’s turmoil. After living in the wild for several years, he was having trouble picking up on social cues.

“Do you think I should ask her out? I’m a bit rusty.” He ran his hand through his long hair, tugging at the strands. “I should get a trim first, right?”

“And a fucking shower,” Bucky grumbled to himself.

Steve didn’t hear him, he was too busy glaring at his hair in the big mirror on the wall.

Bucky tried to push away that nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was becoming harder to pretend this was all innocent. Not when he had to physically restrain himself from punching his oldest friend in the teeth. Steve was allowed to ask you out, Bucky had no right to be jealous.

And yet...

“How long are you stayin’?” he asked, eyeing Steve’s backpack. It wasn’t unusual for him to take Steve in when he was between assignments, but things were different now.

“A few weeks. Is it going to be a problem?”

“Listen, if it were just me, I’d let you stay,” Bucky replied. “But I’m not alone anymore. She doesn’t know you, you’re basically a stranger, and you’re already thinking of hitting on her. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable. This is her home.”

Steve blushed. “No, of course. I understand. I would never-”

“All I’m sayin’ is, she has the final say,” Bucky cut him off. “If she lets you stay, you can take the kids’ room.”

“You sure? It’s right next to her room. I could take the room upstairs, the one above the living room.”

“No, you can’t,” Bucky sighed. “It’s her painting studio.”

Steve stared at him with a suspicious frown. “Are you sure there’s nothing between you and her?”

“Yup, she’s just a friend.”

He tried not to fidget as he forced himself to hold Steve’s gaze. He kept his head high and acted as composed as he could even though his heart was jackhammering in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve drawled out, not entirely convinced. “If you say so.”

As Bucky expected, you allowed Steve to take the guest room, the one with the bunk-bed, though Steve told you that it wouldn’t be a problem. It also meant that he would be sharing your bathroom, and while it didn’t seem to bother you, it made Bucky really uncomfortable.

That evening, he sat down with you and Steve at the dinner table. He made sure Steve was seated at one end of the table, thinking that if you didn’t have him in front of you, you’d interact less. Bucky’s plan backfired pretty quickly. Steve had so many ‘I-lived-in-the-wild-for-ages’ stories that he monopolized the discussion –and your attention.

Bucky spent most of the night lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming, and only smiled when he caught your gaze. He snapped out of his haze when he noticed that he was alone at the dinner table. You and Steve were washing the dishes, talking and laughing.

He felt a pang of envy at the sight before him; it was supposed to be him and it scared him that someone could take you away from him. Then it hit him. He wasn’t special, you were kind and sweet with everyone. It was what had attracted him to you in the first place; your kindness, your fortitude and loyalty.

He couldn’t blame Steve for falling for you, too.

“Guys, I’m going to bed,” he said, standing on the landing between the two rooms.

You turned around mid-laugh and smiled warmly at him. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Sweet dreams, angel.” It slipped out. He didn’t even realize what he’d said, but Steve did.

Steve cocked a brow at his best friend’s retreating figure before he hung his head and let out a brief chuckle.

Over the next few days, Bucky’s mood didn’t improve. He was holding back, unable to reach out to you the way he used to. Steve was always there. Always.

In the morning Steve would come back from a run, sweaty and hungry, and wearing a shirt that was two sizes too small for him. He really laid it on thick, even by his standards, but you didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, you would often go out with Steve when Bucky was working on his new book. He took you to art shows, introduced you to important people and you visited art supply stores together, which annoyed Bucky more than he thought possible.

He felt stuck in a Garfunkel and Oates song, praying for Steve to go away.

I could've wished a thousand wishes for Steve to disappear.

Worst of all, Bucky was snappy with you. Especially after he inadvertently overheard you and Natasha talking about Steve. You painted a vivid picture of Steve’s ass. Figuratively of course, though Bucky couldn’t be certain that you didn’t have hundreds of notebooks filled with drawings of Steve’s ass.

“Hey, stranger.”

He looked up when you walked into his study carrying a tray with his breakfast –coffee and two slices of toasted white bread with butter and jam. You left the tray on a pile of papers and closed the door behind you.

“I was wondering about you, since you didn’t show up for breakfast.” You stood behind him and worked your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and let you massage his scalp, the tension slowly leaving his body. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

Bucky was so relaxed that his filter was non-existent. “Yeah, Steve’s bothering me. He stole my angel.”

“He can’t steal a mythical creature.”

“You’re my angel,” he half-moaned when you applied pressure to his scalp.

“I haven’t been feeling like your angel lately,” you said, giving him another squeeze before you let go of his head. You took a seat on the armchair close to his desk. “You’re... I don’t know. You’re moody and irritated, and I don’t know how to help you. I know you don’t like surprises, and Steve showing up out of nowhere and staying here was a pretty huge surprise. It’s difficult to cope with change but I think you’re acting a little weird. I swear, Bucky, sometimes you look at Steve like you want to kill him. Is it because we spend time without you?”

Bucky straightened up in his seat and took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Yeah, I guess. You two are having fun and I’m stuck here, alone.”

“You feel left out.”

“A bit,” he replied earnestly. “But if you like him, you should go for it. He’s a good-looking guy, he’s nice. He’s also a dumbass but that’s part of his charm.”

You laughed. “What? Why are you telling me this?”

“I heard you and Natasha,” Bucky explained, blushing. “You said, and I quote: ‘he's got an ass you can bounce quarters off of.’”

You burst out laughing. “Oh, Bucky.”

“What? I’m just sayin’ if that’s what you wanna do... I’ll give you a bunch of quarters.”

“No, thanks,” you laughed. “I’m good. I keep my quarters for something else.”

Bucky speared you with a suspicious look. “So you don’t think his ass is like a juicy peach.” He blinked. “Also a direct quote.”

“Oh, no, I stand by what I said. His ass is so-” you lifted your hands and made a squeezing motion “-tight.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he rushed to say. “It’s not that impressive. Anyone can do squats. I do squats.”

“Fishing for compliments?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. You looked at him with a fond smile. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He reached for a slice of bread and bit into it, focusing his attention on his laptop screen. You got to your feet and walked to the door.

“Oh, um, by the way, how much of that conversation did you hear?” you asked, leaning against the half-open door.

“Not much, I left after the juicy peach thing.”

You hummed while nodding, your eyes cast down. When you looked up at him, a glint of something mischievous shone in your eyes. “You should have stayed a little longer,” you said enigmatically, your eyes roaming shamelessly over his body.

You raised your eyebrows and closed the door behind you, leaving Bucky speechless and confused. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” he shouted, hoping you could hear him through the closed door. “Angel? Come back!”

Needless to say he didn’t write much after that.

Bucky made a conscious effort to stop being an asshat. A week later, he was in a better mood, and only glared at Steve twice –the first time when Steve put his hand on your knee and the second when he made a vaguely flirtatious remark.  

You let Steve and Bucky handle the dirty dishes, and Bucky was sure you did it on purpose. Your little smug smile said as much. Steve didn’t seem happy, he had never liked household chores and probably only did the dishes to spend time with you.

Bucky remembered Steve’s childhood bedroom; shades always down, his bed perpetually unmade, and a monster pile of clean and dirty clothes on his desk chair. He remembered Sarah’s exasperated sigh whenever she entered her son’s bedroom. It made him laugh.

Bucky had always been a neat person, something his mom always took pride in. ‘Look at my son who does his own laundry and sets the table without being asked. Look how well I raised him!’ After his accident, cleaning became an obsession, a way of controlling something that was uncontrollable.

“Did you get Sam’s text?” Steve asked, tossing the now-wet towel on the counter. “Emergency brunch tomorrow at 10.”

“Yeah, I know. Sam has a loose understanding of the word ‘emergency’. Last time he wanted to know if he could pull off a goatee. Not exactly an emergency.”

“Mhh,” Steve replied, thinking. “Are you coming?”

“Hell yeah,” Bucky chucked, “I wanna know what this new emergency is.”

Steve cast him a sideways glance while leaning his back against the kitchen counter. He mulled over something as he watched his friend clean the sink.

“So, um,” Steve started awkwardly. “I have a date tomorrow.”

Bucky’s hand faltered a bit. “Ah? With who?”

Steve looked toward your bedroom door and let out a very loud sigh. “A real-life angel, Buck.”

Bucky let go of the sponge and straightened up abruptly. He glared at Steve, hoping he’d heard him wrong. “What did you just say?”

“I have a date tomorrow night so you’ll have the place to yourself.” Steve smiled to his friend, blissfully unbothered. “I think I’ve been invading your personal space. You always look upset so I thought this would be a great idea. And I’ve been alone for so long, I need... relief you know.”

“Awesome,” Bucky replied, gritting his teeth.

“Great, I’m glad you see it that way,” Steve said, grabbing Bucky’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “See you tomorrow, Buck.”

He watched Steve walk to his bedroom and close the door behind him. Something inside him cracked, and he felt the overwhelming urge to throw something, watch it break into tiny pieces.

He took a deep breath and went in search of you instead. He found you upstairs in your studio, kneeling in front of a canvas, the handle of a pair of pliers in your mouth. It took you a few seconds to acknowledge his presence, and Bucky grinned when you let out a little shocked gasp.

“Did you have fun washing the dishes with Steve?” you teased, taking the pliers out of your mouth.

“I think we need a dishwasher.” He walked into the room and squatted down on his haunches next to you. “Whatcha doing?”

“I’m removing the staples on the stretcher bars so I can roll up the canvas and put it in a tube,” you said. “This way they’re protected and I can carry them pretty easily. I have a meeting with a gallerist tomorrow. Apparently Steve knows her well. He mentioned my name and she wants to see my work.”

“That’s amazing, angel,” Bucky exclaimed. “How can I help?”

“I’m almost done. I just need to finish this one. Can you grab that sheet of plastic on the desk? We’ll wrap it in it and then we’ll use a piece of canvas for extra protection.”

He followed your instructions and made sure not to ruin your hard work. Once the canvas was in the tube, you placed it against the wall next to two similar tubes. Then you cleaned up and put away your tools.

“I don’t know if Steve told you but-”

“Yes, I know,” Bucky cut you off. “The date. It’s great. Honestly.”

“Yeah.” You lowered your gaze and studied your shaking hands, unable to meet his eyes. “Listen, I was thinki-”

“I really need some time to myself anyway,” he talked over you. “So it’s great, y’know? We all get what we want.”

“I guess,” you replied. “It’s getting late, I should go to bed.”

“Getting up bright and early tomorrow, uh?” The jovial tone in his voice sounded forced, even to his ears. You nodded mechanically. “Well, good night.”

“Good night.”

You both stood unmoving, staring at each other. Your eyes were asking for something, pleading with him, but he was too lost to understand. He was lost in his own feelings, remembering something Sam had said a while ago.

There’s an entire world between like and love.

And it was true.

Like was doing the dishes with you. It was laughing and screaming while you chased each other around the living room, using fairy lights as lassos. Like was booping your nose when you watched him cook dinner. It was speaking gibberish after watching a foreign film.

Love was that sweet agony that made him feel more alive than he had ever felt. It was letting you hold his hand and play with his fingers even though his nose felt itchy. Love was seeing you wrap his bow tie around your wrist like a bracelet. It was walking around a deserted planetarium with you.

Love was the colour of your favourite lipstick; Carter Red.

“Thanks for your help,” you said, interrupting his train of thought.

“My pleasure.” He tried to smile but it hurt.

Everything made sense now. His crankiness and irritability, his sudden aversion to his oldest friend, the one who had saved his life. The one who had asked you out on a date –or so it seemed.

“Sweet dreams...” he paused, considering, then used your name instead of your usual pet name.

He had no right to call you ‘angel’ anymore. Steve had asked you out first, he had asked Bucky multiple times if he was okay with that, and Bucky’s answers had always been a gritted ‘yes’.

The truth was, his epiphany didn’t change anything. He wouldn’t have asked you out because there was too much at stake: your friendship, your livelihood, your career, the well-being of your family. He couldn’t put you in an uncomfortable position, couldn’t ruin your hard work.

And he was terrified of these feelings. They were too new, too raw.

You pinched your lips together and nodded, avoiding his eyes. He clenched his jaw hard, hating the resigned look on your face. Why did you look so defeated? Without saying anything, you walked past him and left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Part 9

[wondersofdreaming]

Edible Love

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader

Word count: 1.206

Warnings: Fluff, sexual innuendos, filthy thoughts, sarcasm.

Author’s note: A request from @littlefreya​ after I showed her the vagina/breast look-a-like dessert I made in culinary school. I hope you like it <3

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

Thank you so much to my muse, my inspiration, my sanity, you give me motivation to continue writing when I’m lost - @radaofrivia​, a thousand thanks to you, love <3 Go read her stories from her masterlist!

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

You were rarely allowed in the kitchen. Every time you would try to cook, Sy’s 6th sense alerted him of your sneaking around. He would storm into the room, throw you over his shoulder and manhandle you towards the bedroom.

He had tried to teach you once how to make a baked pasta dish, and when you had tried to make it by yourself to surprise him, you had forgotten the dish in the oven, and it had been burned to a crisp, definitely un-edible. Sy had a strong stomach, so he at least tried the food, but as you watched his face forcing to swallow the nasty pasta, you threw the rest out and ordered a large pizza. You had since that time been determined to at least make him something tasty, and you were going to succeed one day.

On your wedding day, he had written in his wedding vows that he would cook for you until death do you part, and then he had whispered in your ear that the only way you were allowed in his kitchen was naked and willing for him to taste your peach and cherry on the counter.

You bargained with Sy for over an hour the day before your 1st anniversary. He still wouldn’t let you use the oven, the stove, and even the microwave had become forbidden to use. But you argued for your case, promising him that you would only make a dessert that would use minimal use of the oven or the stove.

Sy had relented in the end and had helped you go grocery shopping. You had put all kinds of things in the basket to trick him, like radishes, pickled red onions, olives, and black garlic.

“You’re not trying to kill me, are you, buttercup?” Sy asked nervously.

“If I were going to kill you, my love, then you would have already been dead by my cooking years ago.”

Your dear husband roared with laughter, gaining attention from a few other customers in the supermarket around you.

At home, Sy went to work in the backyard, while you started the prep in the kitchen. The captain was standing just outside the back door that led to the kitchen. He was close by in case you needed him or if you were injured. You read the recipe that you had received from your mother-in-law, who had been secretly teaching you the dessert you were making, just so you could surprise your big handsome husband.

You grabbed the peaches from the mountain of fruits you had brought. Peach was your husband’s favourite fruit, so it was the obvious choice. You peeled the peaches and took out the pits before cutting them into bite-size cubes. You looked through the door, watching your big burly man cutting the grass. Almost forgetting your task at hand, seeing his muscular arms pushing the lawn-mower. Your mind turned to mush as you watched sweat dripping from his concentrated forehead.

You went back to the dessert before you did something you were going to regret, as you really wanted to make something for your husband to eat for once. You put a pot of cream on the stove, waiting for it to come to a boil. You added the gelatine, that you fished out from a bowl of cold water, into the cream and poured the warm mixture over some egg yolks and honey you had whipped together earlier. Pouring the cream-mix in small ramekins you set them aside to cool down, while then concentrating on the peaches.

After a while of blending the peaches, it had become a coulis that you wanted to pour over the set panna cottas. You peeled some mandarins to decorate the dessert with.

You hadn’t noticed the time had gone by quicker than expected. In no time, Sy called you to the backyard for dinner. He had set the table there with a white and blue table cloth and had served your dinner on the plates.

Dinner was eaten hurriedly because Syverson always made tasty food. Everything had been made on the grill, the spareribs smeared in homemade barbecue sauce, the corn dripping with butter, and the big baked potatoes covered in tinfoil and smothered with crispy bacon bits, chopped chives and sour cream. You couldn’t wait to bring him the dessert that you had made with love. The panna cotta had set, you thanked your lucky stars for that. You poured the peach coulis on top and set the mandarin slices into somewhat of a circle.

“Dessert is served, captain,” you teased and set the ramekin down in front of him with a spoon next to it.

Sy looked down. The first thought that crossed him was that the mandarins were arranged in a fashion that it looked like… a vagina.

His jeans suddenly grew snug around his hips. His boner growing steadily harder and painful. He looked at his innocent wife, so eager to please him, not even knowing that her efforts alone made his heart soar to the skies.

He had to make a plan on how to make you as lustful as he was. He watched as your eyes grew sad that he wasn’t digging into your dessert right away.

“This looks amazing, love,” he smiled. He grabbed the spoon and dug a large chunk of the panna cotta with the peach coulis out. He opened his mouth and closed his lips around the spoon, moaning as the sweet custard with the peach touched his tongue. Sy slowly moved the spoon out, languidly carving out another bite of the sinful dessert.

All he could think of, as he ate the dish his wife had created for him, was to have your spread out right before him. Legs wrapped around his hips, while he pounded into you with such vigour, you would break the table, and perhaps even break the deck too. He wanted to hear your moans and screams, hear his name falling from those lovely lips of yours, hear you tell him that he was the only one who could make take you into oblivion.

“So… do you like it?” you asked, arousal slowly pooling between your closed thighs. You watched as the big guy ate another bite, groaning, the rumble coming from deep within his chest. His eyes were looking at you with such intensity that you had to look away before you threw the dishes from the table and assaulted him.

“It tastes great, babygirl,” he told you in a low voice, lust filling his deep sound. “But I do want a second dessert.”

“Oh?” you looked at him perplexed, but you knew exactly what was on your husband’s mind. The smirk on his bearded jaw was imminent, while he slowly moved up from his chair.

Sy watched as his angel-wife stood up and watched him through hooded eyes, if you looked up innocence in the dictionary, a picture of you would be front and centre. But in the bedroom, you were a sexual goddess, a vixen of lust, and you left your virtues on the threshold.

“Then you must follow me to the bedroom, where I will serve you, your favourite dessert.”

[sunsetsandcurves]

give me a sign

Or, three times Alex realizes there's something going on between Bobby and Reggie. His friends are just idiots. Word Count: 1238.

1.

Alex knows he's not an expert in this whole relationship thing- he's never been with anyone and he doesn't want to be with anyone, thank you very much. He's kind of dense and he's willing to admit that.

But it doesn't take much more than common sense to realize that Bobby and Reggie are definitely more than friends, even if they're stupid and don't seem to realize that on their own. The thing's been going on just for a couple of weeks now, and in the beginning, it was just barely noticeable, with the way the four of them are always touching and hugging and talking and stuff. Alex's aware they're closer than most friend groups their age, but even they have boundaries, and Bobby and Reggie are absolutely breaking them.

He, Reggie and Bobby are sitting on the studio's couch, waiting for Luke because he promised he'd bring them food. Alex's laying against the armrest, twirling his drumstick in his right hand.

Reggie's laying on top of Bobby, his back against Bobby's chest, just between his legs. Bobby's running a hand through Reggie's hair and every time Reggie speaks directly to Bobby, he has to look up at him, (which is pretty often,) and their faces end up really close together. They're literally cuddling, and Alex kind of feels like he should be giving them time alone or something.

And then Luke walks through the studio doors, holding up a plastic bag with a smile.

"I bought nachos from this guy- it was just five bucks and I think we'll have more than enough for all four of us- don't thank me. I know you love me."

Luke sits beside him, their shoulders touching, and Alex tries to picture them sitting just like Bobby and Reggie are, and then he shivers because he loves Luke, but not that much.

Luke passes him the nachos and then points to Reggie and Bobby with his head, his eyebrows raised.

"What's up with that?"

Alex shrugs. "Weird, right?"

Reggie and Bobby start eating without breaking from their weird cuddle position, and Alex's brain starts thinking, realizing something.

"Do you think they're- you know, dating?" He whispers to Luke, who looks up at them, squints, shrugs and shoves four nachos inside his mouth.

"Nah," his friend answers, his words barely understandable. "Bobby and Reggie? No way. They're just like that."

Alex's not that sure.

2.

The thing Alex loves the most about Bobby's house it's that his parents are never there. Which, yeah, it's kind of sad, but Bobby's used to it, and he likes having his friends around.

That Sunday, after he begs his parents to let him go, he walks to Bobby's house, a movie his brother rented and forgot to give back on his backpack. He knocks on the door and hears Bobby's voice telling him to come in.

The living room's empty, but there are laughs and words coming from the kitchen, so he walks there, frowning, because Bobby said five and it's four thirty and Reggie and Luke are always late for everything.

But Reggie's already there, standing beside Bobby, laughing so hard there are tears running down his eyes, his face covered in flour. He's wearing an actual chef hat. Bobby's wearing one too, and his hands are full of- something sticky.

"What are you idiots doing?" He asks, leaving his backpack on top of the kitchen counter.

"Cinnamon rolls!" Reggie answers, a huge grin decorating his face. "It's not going that great, though."

"Yeah, we probably fucked up the recipe," Bobby looks down at a bowl full of dough that looks way too sticky to be normal. "But we tried," he adds, and then he turns at Reggie and throws some more flour at him.

"Stop!" Reggie lets out between another laugh, trying to block the flour with his hands. And then he's grabbing a chunk of the dough and throwing at Bobby.

Bobby blinks, his face covered in the sticky thing, and then actually giggles, looking up at Reggie with a fond smile.

"You did not just do that," Bobby mutters, and then grabs an actual egg and throws it at Reggie, who manages to turn around just in time for the egg to break against his back. They're both doubling over in laughter, and Alex's just- there, trying to figure out when did Reggie and Bobby start hanging out to bake.

"Alright, stop wasting food I could be eating," Alex says, and walks towards his friends. "Let's see if we can save this thing."

They can't. They end up throwing away all of it and ordering pizza, but Reggie and Bobby don't seem to care. They go get changed and Reggie walks down the stairs wearing Bobby's hoodie, the black and red one he doesn't let anyone borrow. Anyone except Reggie, apparently.

When he tells Luke that, Luke looks up at them from his spot on the floor, and frowns.

"Alright, that's a little bit weird, I'll admit it. But they're not dating. C'mon, Alex, they'd tell us if they were."

The thing is, Alex has come to the conclusion that Bobby and Reggie are just idiots who don't even know they're, in fact, pretty much dating.

3.

The last thing Alex needs to confirm his theory happens a week later, at band practice. They've been going at it for hours now, because they have a gig coming pretty soon, and they know they need to nail every single presentation if they're going to make it far.

It's past midnight, and Alex doesn't feel like walking home, none of they do, so they get ready to spend the night in the studio.

It's something they do a lot. There are two sleeping bags and an air mattress on the loft, and Luke's couch that turns into a bed that he practically stole from his grandmother's house. It's usually Luke and Reggie who sleep on the couch, and he and Bobby share the air mattress, each of them in their sleeping bag.

But tonight, after Luke finally puts his guitar down, Reggie throws himself on the couch and raises both his arms, making grabbing gestures.

Alex wonders what he means for a second, and then Bobby lays down practically on top of Reggie, hugging him and burying his face against Reggie's neck.

Alex fights back a scream and turns to look at Luke, who can seriously not be blind enough to not see that there's something going on there.

Luke, luckily, is also staring at them with his eyes open wide, his expression impossible to decipher. Alex points to the loft and they climb the stairs in silence.

"Night, guys!" Reggie's voice calls. That's what drives Alex crazy.

"You guys are literally going to sleep like that? And not- you two idiots- I don't- you like each other!" He's screaming from the loft, looking down at them. "Please do something about it!"

Bobby and Reggie look at each other and then burst out laughing.

Alex's brain stops working for a second.

"What? Wait, what's so funny?"

"Yeah, what's so funny?" Luke repeats, now standing by his side.

"Dude," Bobby stands up, his voice struggling to stop laughing. "We've been dating for months. We were just waiting until one of you realized. It took you like, forever."

Alex blinks. Then swallows. Then blinks again.

"Wait, what?"

Reggie stands up too, and takes Bobby's hand. "Isn't it kind of obvious? We haven't been exactly hiding it."

"I- I- I didn't- I couldn't- Alex told me you two, no way-" Luke mutters, and he looks so confused Alex almost laughs, and then he remembers he must look as ridiculous as his friend. "You could have told us! I didn't- I-"

Bobby rolls his eyes. "We just thought it'd be funnier if we waited until one of you two figured it out."

"I mean," Alex's voice is high pitched and a little shaky. "I saw you guys liked each other. I just thought you were just- you know, silently in love with the other and stupid enough not to realize it."

Reggie snorts. "We're not that dumb, Alex. You're just really dense."

"I'm not!"

Yeah, he totally is.