#every week I’m like. what if I text my supervisor and say I have food poisoning

[betterhomesandhozie]

Tuesdays suck ass why do I have to leave the house at the same time my alarm goes off the rest of the week

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 3

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, death mention, mention of politics

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Happy New Year, everyone! We made it! To celebrate, here’s the next chapter of Honeydew. I’d like to mention that this story takes place a few years BEFORE the events of We Can Be Heroes, so that’s why some things are a bit different from canon. If we make it far enough, there might be some allusions to the movie, but for now you can think of this as being set 3-5 years before the movie. Wishing you all a safe and healthy new year!

Erin locked her car and walked down the sidewalk to the entrance of the restaurant. She felt just a little bit overdressed with her pencil skirt and ruffled blouse, but it was a day full of meetings and she didn’t have extra time to change. Hopefully she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

When she walked in, she spotted Marcus sitting by a window, gazing out into the street. The daylight highlighted the curve of his nose beautifully, almost like a painting. His glasses framed his eyes perfectly, drawing attention to the warm brown of his irises and accentuating his strong jawline. The short beard on his cheek looked soft and kissable, though shorter than her Marcus kept his.

Her heart fluttered as she stepped into the dining area. Each step towards Marcus Moreno felt like one step further away from the past, from her Marcus.

But wouldn't her Marcus want her to be happy?

Stop getting your hopes up, she scolded herself. This isn’t a date.

Part of her wished it was. It was the same part of her that gravitated towards him after they met at Sachi’s party and filled her with warmth when he texted her for the first time.

She knew it was silly to develop feelings for him; he was probably too busy for relationships. After all, he had to take care of his daughter, Missy.

What if he already had a wife, too?

Her heart sank as she glanced down at his hands, which were clasped together on the table. Shining on his left hand was a ring.

Definitely not a date, then.

“Hi,” he greeted, his face lighting up when she approached. He rose to his feet to give her a hug. When they pulled apart, he took in her outfit. “Wow, you look...great.”

She blushed, hands still resting on his arms. “Thanks, you too. I must say, a suit looks good on you.”

“Oh this? It’s nothing,” he said, beaming. Before she could stop him, he pulled out her chair so she could sit. “I, uh, ordered you a coffee; you sounded tired on the phone when you called, so I figured you would want a little pick-me-up.”

In front of her was a mug filled with steaming coffee. It was a cappuccino–one of her go-to orders. When she wasn’t surviving off of plain coffee, she loved the warmth and luxury of the more elaborate form of caffeine. Sitting down, she asked, “Thank you. How do you know my coffee order?”

Marcus laughed softly, his cheeks flushed. “Lucky guess?”

“Very lucky, indeed,” she hummed, taking a sip. As she did, memories of a certain agent and cup of coffee raced back to her. It was such a lovely coincidence that both Marcuses managed to give her coffee in the sweetest way possible. Admiring his dress shirt and tie, she asked, “Are you coming from work, or do you always dress like this for lunch dates?”

She let out a breath of relief when he explained it was for work. The man sitting across from her was already beautiful–she wasn’t sure how she’d cope if he also wore suits every day.

Marcus explained that he worked for a group called the Heroics, which was the organization responsible for coordinating superpowered individuals to protect the world. There was a dress code for those working in the offices, though sometimes the heroes staying behind could be ready in their super attire.

The Heroics were a fairly new group, one that the government had seemed interested in working with. However, most of the information was classified and only relayed to those working at the Pentagon. With the rising concerns of police brutality and the acceleration of technology, the world was searching for a newer, better, way to keep civilians safe.

When she asked him what position he had, he groaned playfully. Even after all this time, his honeydew never rested. He tried to ignore what that meant for her during the past few years. “Isn’t this supposed to be our break from work, honey?”

“What, can’t a girl be curious?” she teased, tilting her head.

Marcus chuckled, heat rushing up to his face when he realized his eyes had fallen to her red lips. Without thinking, he reached across the table to take her hand into his. “How about this: I’ll tell you later if you can make it through lunch without talking about work.”

She huffed playfully. “Alright, you win.” Rubbing her thumb along his fingers, she asked, “What do you want to talk about, Mr. Moreno?”

Everything. He wanted to talk about everything. Yet at the same time, he wanted to talk about nothing; he just wanted to spend time with his best friend.

But he was Marcus Moreno, not Marcus Pike. Even if she was his best friend, he wasn’t hers.

“I guess I just want to get to know you better,” he said, shrugging. The corners of his mouth curved up in a soft smile. “What does Erin He, the FBI’s Operational Technologies Supervisor, do in her free time?”

“Not that I have much free time these days,” she began, “but, I like making things. Food and art, mostly. There’s a new art gallery opening nearby. I’ve been meaning to go but work has taken up a lot of time. That, and most of my friends aren’t really into that kind of stuff.”

Back in Texas, Marcus had introduced her to the prospect of viewing and enjoying art, not just creating it. At first she’d been hesitant–she never really enjoyed walking through museums or galleries–but listening to Marcus’s interpretations of the artwork, and then offering her own, made her reconsider it. Maybe it was the art; maybe it was the company and quality time that used to come with it. It became a part of her life, a treat to herself amidst the bright screens and headaches. It was her escape from the world, even if it was short-lived.

She just wished Marcus could’ve been there in her years after moving to DC.

Marcus smiled. “Well, I’d love to go with you someday. Maybe not during the week, but one day when Missy’s over at a friend’s house.”

At the mention of his daughter, Erin remembered his wedding ring. Her stomach churned at the thought of keeping him away from his family. Retracting her hand, she said, “Oh, right. Of course…. But wouldn’t you want to spend time with your wife?”

His brows furrowed with confusion, then he followed her eyes to his ring. He smiled sadly. “Oh, right. I forgot to tell you…my wife passed away a few years ago.” He tapped on the metal band. “I used to see this as a symbol of my marriage, but now I like to consider it a reminder of my daughter. A reminder that I have someone waiting for me to come home and provide for.”

There were days when he missed his wife more than others, like whenever Missy would come home from school with an art project made for Mother’s Day. Or when she’d want to try new hairstyles or try on clothes at the mall. It had been years, but there were just some things he couldn’t be no matter how much he tried.

“I’m sorry,” Erin said. Offering him a small smile, she added, “For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re a great dad.”

She always knew what to say, always a step ahead. He’d missed that about her. “I don’t have the best track record with relationships,” he replied, letting out a huff of laughter. “Let’s just say that.”

“You’re not alone in that camp,” Erin replied. She played with the corner of her napkin. “Though I must say I’ve never made it far enough to have a kid of my own, so you’ve got that going for you.”

“Why not?” He knew dating while working for the FBI was always a tricky situation, but he never thought that she, of all people, would have trouble finding someone. She was sweet, hardworking, and smarter than everyone he knew. She was....everything he ever looked for in a partner. Having lunch with her, getting to relearn what it felt like to be her friend, was everything.

But he also knew her. He understood her dedication to her work, and why she worked long hours at the office. He did the same, too. Well, until he met his wife and had Missy.

Did Erin ever get to experience that feeling? The feeling of being home and content and loved? Did he take that feeling with him when he erased his identity from the world?

She was about to answer when a waitress came up to the table to take their orders. Once the waitress left, she turned back to Marcus. “Let’s just say there was an old friend, one that I can’t ever replace.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, so quiet that she almost missed it.

Why did it sound like an apology?

Taking a deep breath, she changed the subject. “Well, it was a long time ago, anyways. I’m just happy that I met you. Tell me, Marcus: what do you like to do in your free time?”

They talked about everything they could think of, basking in comfortable silences once the food arrived. It was all easy; almost too easy. But Erin couldn’t help but let it wash over her. It had been a long, long time since she felt at peace with everything. There was just something about the way Marcus smiled that was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. His humble–almost shy–demeanor only served to draw her in. She quickly realized that, at the end of the day, he was just a man trying to do right by his daughter.

When the bill arrived, he didn’t hesitate to slip in his card and give it back to the waitress. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s my treat.” Winking at Erin, he said, “Maybe next time.”

---

After lunch with Marcus, the day passed in a blur. The meetings were long, but not as unbearable as she expected. Even the piles of feedback on her desk didn’t feel as daunting as they usually did. When she left the office, the weight of the folders in her arms weren’t as heavy.

Erin had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when her phone rang, buzzing against the counter. She didn’t even need to glance at the screen to know it was him; she had a special ringtone set up.

Putting the call on speaker, she answered, “Hi Marcus!”

“Hey Erin!”

Warmth filled her chest as he thanked her for having lunch with him. His voice was as soothing as ever, even through the phone. She could have listened to him talk all night.

“I had a great time, too,” she replied, beaming. Sitting on her kitchen counter, she must’ve looked ridiculous with her hair in damp tendrils. Thankfully, Marcus hadn’t decided to do a video call. “I mean it. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a while.”

A soft chuckle. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t bore you too much.”

She scoffed. “You could never.” Maybe to some he would be boring, but to her? He was everything. His late wife was a lucky woman, and Missy was a lucky girl. Marcus was everything she ever wanted; he was kind, thoughtful, secure. And although they’d parted ways with nothing more than a promised call, she never felt so happy.

“Actually, I was wondering–”

He stopped as a little voice piped up near him. It must’ve been Missy, his little girl. Erin could just barely hear her ask, “Who is that?”

Biting her lip, she listened on as Marcus chuckled softly and bashfully answered, “She’s, uh, a friend of mine.”

“Is she a girlfriend?”

“N-no,” he stammered, laughing nervously. “She’s just a friend.”

“Is she pretty?”

His answer made her cover her face and fight to contain a squeal. “Yes, she’s very pretty.” A pause. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, sweetie? Why don’t you get in first, I’ll be right there.”

Erin waited patiently as silence settled in the kitchen once again. Her cheeks were hurting from smiling, and she was sure she’d feel it the next morning. He thought she was pretty!

Marcus returned with a sigh. “Sorry about that, Missy can get a little curious sometimes.”

“It’s alright,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too giddy. “She’s cute. What were you going to ask me?”

Silence. Then, he said, “Oh, right. I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to get dinner sometime later this week?”

Her heart raced as she realized what he wanted. It had been so long; what would she wear? Did he already have a restaurant in mind? Did he really want to take her out to dinner?

Was it a date?

Already deep into the whirlwind of questions, she realized she hadn’t responded yet. Without thinking, she said, “Yes. It’s a date!”

You couldn’t have been more subtle?

She braced herself for the rejection, but it never came.

“It’s a date,” Marcus repeated softly, almost as if he were saying it to himself. A soft laugh. “I should probably, uh, go check on Missy. We can figure out the details of our date later, alright?” His voice somehow turned even softer, like velvet. “Goodnight, honeydew.”

Erin yawned, the day’s exhaustion finally setting in. Maybe those files could wait until the morning.

“Goodnight, Marcus.”

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[ilovemagicalwarriorwomen]

Red flags that my new job is throwing up hard:

Corporate literally has people watching the security cameras every minute of the work day, and if we’re doing something they don’t like(i.e. back of house employees hanging out front of house) they will text our manager a screenshot of the security footage and get her to go fix it

When I was hired I told them upfront that I’m disabled and because of the nature of my disability I can’t work more than 25 hrs a week. My manager put me on for 30 next week and when I reminded her that 25 is my max, she responded with “30 hours is part time. You’re part time aren’t you” and I had to hint that working a certain number of hours a week is a necessary accommodation for my disability(which I’m legally entitled to) before she took me back down to 25.

My supervisor made a set schedule that worked for everybody. The district manager then made the manager go back and change everything with the caveat that she didn’t want anybody working the same schedule every week. No explanation for that thus far.

We had to sign shit saying that we weren’t allowed to get any visible tattoos or peircings or dye our hair any unnatural colors or do anything “unprofessional” to our appearance while we work there. Kinda wanna subvert this by just coming in with a buzz cut one day and seeing wtf they do.

We’re not allowed to have a fridge or microwave in the break room for our lunches. Have yet to hear an explanation for this one.

Also not allowed to bring our own handbags to work, they give us clear drawstring backpacks and that’s the only bag they will let us into the building carrying.

Follow up on the last 2, we’re not allowed to bring lunch boxes, bc that’s not a clear plastic backpack, so when I brought up that if I can’t bring my insulated lunch box and we’re not allowed to have a fridge, how am I supposed to keep my lunch from going bad during the workday? Radio silence. If I get food poisoning I’m suing is all I’m saying.

For context, I work at a salon. Not even a super nice one. We make $10 an hour. A bitch is about to start job hunting again because sincerely, what the fuck is this.

(also if you know what company I’m talking about no you don’t, they made me sign a thing saying I can’t bash them on social media and I’m not about to get sued by a place I can very well see myself having to sue for ableism at some point in the near future)

[bomberqueen17]

ow

today’s headache was NOT cured by food, OR by ibuprofen, OR by water, so this is exciting new territory behind my left eye and I for one am not excited about that! No thanks.

I was thinking about going in to work, to see if there were any projects I should tidy up, but I am so scatterbrained. They’re used to me disappearing. I’ll text my supervisor later today and maybe I’ll go in briefly tomorrow morning to tidy things, especially if there’s anything urgent, so that I can vanish for a while in clear conscience.

A coworker I no longer work directly with texted and asked if he could bring food by later. I remember now that he’s patrilineally Jewish (and by that i mean, he doesn’t identify that way but he was raised adjacent, y’know?).

hanging out with Dude’s mom last night was lovely. She wept on me a bit, which I hadn’t expected, but then, she has known me a long time, and met my parents many times. She had just sent a card to my parents, taking the occasion to compliment my dad on his hair-cutting skills for Dave’s haircut from Thanksgiving.

Mom texted us all this morning. “I had my first John would have done this,” she said, and it was clear from context that she’d said that in a tone of exasperation. Their house has two levels of roof, where the lower storey extends out beyond the upper, and I do remember at one point in my childhood she was up there painting the siding and had a ladder go out from under her and mildly injured herself and was quite upset. She really doesn’t like being on ladders or roofs. But, she’d gone out onto that lower roof to shovel the snow off, which was left there from an over two-foot snowfall they’d had last week; it’s supposed to rain a lot, later, but not be warm enough for the snow to melt quickly, and that’s a perfect recipe for roof damage, when you have heavy heavy snow sitting there getting soaked with water. “Of course,” she went on, “he would have shoveled every flake off the roof, and then gone and cleared the patio too.” [where all the snow landed] Then she said, “I’m not shoveling the barn roof though,” and when Farmsister said “oh just like Dad, you didn’t tell us you were going on the roof” mom merrily threw Middle-Little under the bus by saying she’d mentioned it to her. Farmsister then offered to come shovel the barn roof, and mom said, “No! Que sera sera.” Which does neatly, I think, sum up the attitude she’s pretty much always had to that barn, which is, if it falls, it falls. There are something like thirteen Jeeps in there, mostly partial ones, we’re going to have to get out of there and find takers for, some of them valuable but most of them not...

The secret of my family is that Dad was the sentimental one and Mom very much is not, so. I can’t really imagine what would happen had things gone the other way and somehow he outlived her, but it would all be unfolding very differently just now, I rather suspect.

(Maybe that’s the worst part, though; you could know Dad very well and he’d still surprise you by the conclusions he drew or the opinions he held. He had a lot of deep currents, that one, and many of his surface identities and such were not in fact the totality of the situation. Some of it was performance and some of it was just that he knew more stuff than you’d expect. Re: performance, though, most notably, he always professed disdain for pets, but understood cats very well and tended to form quite good relationships with all the cats we had, and if you were around long enough you’d catch him being quite affectionate with them. All of our cats have always loved him best, of course. He’s the only person who has ever touched the feral cat, Ghost, who has lived in and around the house for fifteen years now; mostly, their relationship was that she would talk to him and he’d answer, and after a while of that she’d feel safe enough to come and eat.)

[hangrypa]

s/p first year as a PA

I was hired as a hospitalist primarily for the transplant service. However, in the setting of the pandemic and staffing shortages, I am all over the place now and work in almost everything non-pediatric and non-surgical. 

In my first few months as a PA, I was incredibly overwhelmed. I went from being a learner who switches specialties every month to a fully-fledged provider making life-or-death decisions on an hourly basis. Oftentimes I’d find myself in the room of a patient actively crumping, surrounded by the patient’s family and multiple nurses awaiting instructions on what to do to save the patient. I thought that I faced a lot of pressure in school, but it was nothing compared to this. 

And just when I started to get a hang of it all, the pandemic hit. What a nightmare. As mentioned above, I was hired to work with with transplant patients. Prior to the pandemic, my transplant colleagues and I were masking and gowning for almost every patient: 1 surgical mask and 1 gown per patient and per patient encounter. But once COVID hit, we were rationing PPE. 1 N95, 1 pair of goggles, and 1 face shield for the pandemic. 1 surgical mask per week, and 1 gown only if a patient had Cdiff or a history of MDRO bacteremia.

What did the pandemic mean for our transplant patients? 

Our patients are on immunosuppressant medications to prevent transplant rejection. Unfortunately, this makes it difficult for them to fight infections. 

Our department did what it could to prevent COVID. We'd test patients on admission for COVID, regardless of symptoms or exposure history. If they were positive, they went to the COVID team and quarantined on their unit for a period of time and had to test negative before returning to our unit and being transplanted. We took many other measures to reduce COVID risk to the best of our ability. 

People still died. To see someone get transplanted successfully and then die of a virus is horrifying. Unfortunately, despite our admission tests, sometimes patients contracted COVID within the hospital. Patients would be happily FaceTiming their family one moment, telling them all of their plans for once they were discharged- then the next day they'd be intubated. We tried Remdesivir, Dexamethasone, prone positioning, etc. But the virus moved through them quickly, and these efforts often were too late. No amount of hoping and praying brought them back. 

As a first year PA, I learned to go to an empty conference room, close the door, and remove my mask before calling to the family of the deceased. This way, as they gathered around the phone in their homes, the family could hear me unmuffled as I delivered the news. Also, this way my tears didn't ruin my mask for the rest of the week. 

I learned a lot this year. It's been a mixture of crying and laughing. There are times that I question why I ever became a PA, and then there are times when this career feels like home. In addition to transplant, I’ve also been working in the  ED, IMC, ICU, inpatient hospice, clinic, and infusion center these past 6 months. I’ve learned quite a lot along the way.

Lessons learned as a first year PA:

1. Check your pager hourly: This is in addition to checking it whenever you get paged. Sometimes I’ll get paged while I’m rounding, read it, and then forget about it. Now I go through my pager at every hour to ensure that I already responded to all my pages and then answer ones that I missed/forgot.  On a semi-related note, a while back I wrote about good paging etiquette.

2. Let people know when you're out: I work a rotating schedule. As a result, it’s hard to predict when I’m in or out of the hospital. Sometimes I’ll come back on service and find urgent emails or texts that are a few days old. Now I leave an away message with my return date and my supervisor’s contact information on both email and hospital text. If someone really needs to get a hold of me, my supervisor has my personal cell phone number.

3. Be conscientious of what time you consult: I generally try to get all of my nonurgent consults done before 3pm. Many services have only 1 resident covering after 3pm, so I try not to page/call unless I have an emergency. 

4. Call the nurse if something needs to be done urgently: Being a nurse means being the ultimate multitasker. Room 5 is due for his IV Amphotericin, Room 2's Foley is supposed to come out prior to void trial with Urology, Room 1's infusion completed and is beeping, and Room 4 is a bit altered and yanked out her PICC. Now I’m placing an order for Room 3 to get IV Lasix due to concern for pulmonary edema. However, the nurse may be preoccupied with Room 4 and not see the order in the computer for some time. If I really need to the patient to get the Lasix right way, I’ll place the order through EMR and then call the nurse and see what their situation is. If they’re crazy busy with Room 4 and likely to be unable to get to the Lasix within the next 15min, I ask whether they’re okay with me asking another nurse to give the Lasix now. Usually the answer is yes.

5. Value your nurses: Nurses know the patient best. They’re the ones answering call bells, giving meds, doing dressing changes, etc. Unfortunately they oftentimes bear the brunt of everyone’s frustrations, from patients to patients’ families to attendings to managers. Not to mention, they’re the ones doing the dirty work. Bedside nurses are the heartbeat of healthcare, but they also are high risk for burnout. Always support your nurses, whether that’s volunteering to answer a patient’s family member’s 17th phone call of the day or responding to a patient’s call bell yourself. 

6. Know how to get a hold of someone quickly: It’s less than ideal to page someone repeatedly. At my hospital, if I need to talk to an attending urgently, I call the operator and ask them to connect me directly to the attending’s cell phone. If a patient is crashing and we’re not in the ICU, I dial the emergency number and call a rapid response, which sends people running into my patient’s room. 

7. Plan your discharge meds from Day 1: The goal of every admission is to treat the patient and then discharge them safely. Send medications early for prior auth and call the pharmacy to make sure that they have medications in stock. (One time a patient’s insurance didn’t cover Levofloxacin, of all things.) 

8. Keep social work and care coordination aware of all needs from the start: Does your patient looks unsteady? Place a PT/OT consult and let social work and care coordination know that the patient might require home therapy services and/or DME so that they can start looking at services and companies that may be covered by insurance. Does your patient have a central line? They’ll likely need a home health service to teach them how to care for it daily at home. Do they seem to require frequent transfusions? They’ll probably need labs on discharge. Is the patient’s living situation safe (no heat/AC, possible abuse at home, financial difficulties, etc)? They may need alternative housing.

9. The attending is not always right: Generally speaking, the attending has the last say on how the team manages a patient. However, I’ve come across situations in which an attending’s decision put a patient in more danger. Sometimes asking them about their decision can help steer the care plan toward better patient care. Other times you just have to stand your ground and be okay with being on the receiving end of an attending’s misdirected rant. Report these instances to your manager and to other higher-ups.

10. Always have gloves in your pocket: You never know when you’ll find a mess. Or which part of the body someone asks you to examine. Or how hygienic a person is (or is not).

11. Verify weird vitals: I was very new when I walked into work, opened a patient’s chart, and promptly bolted down the hallway when I saw a patient’s O2 sats recorded as 15-20s. I found the patient sitting up in bed, eating breakfast, and bewildered by me bursting into the room. Turns out that overnight someone mistakenly recorded his respirations as the O2 sats.

12. Remove whatever tubes you can: Anything entering the body is an infection risk. Does your patient still need that Foley placed by the surgery team? No? Yank it (don’t actually yank because ouch). Is your patient A&O and able to eat without aspirating? Remove the NG tube. Does your patient have good veins and require infrequent transfusions/labwork? Pull their central line.

13. Take a buddy with you to emergencies: Two heads are better than one. Even if you’re a seasoned provider and well-equipped to manage an emergency, you might need another body to help with performing CPR, making urgent calls, grabbing supplies, etc. 

14. Ask your patients about premeds for procedures: We all have different levels of pain tolerance. A procedure goes far more smoothly if your patient is comfortable. Note: if you’re going to premed with Ativan or an opiate in the outpatient setting, make sure they have a driver.

15. Be good to your charge nurse and unit secretary: I don’t know how they do it. If I had to manage the unit’s signout, patient complaints, calls from other floor, being yelled at by providers, verifying paper orders, and finding beds for incoming patients- all at the same time - I’d lose my mind. 

16. If your patient is mad, just shut up and listen: There are many things that you can’t control: the time it takes for a patient to get a room, the temperature of hospital food, the dismissive attitude of your attending, etc. And oftentimes the patient knows this. My reflex is to want to apologize for things and overexplain why different things are happening. But sometimes the patient just needs to rant. Take a step back and just listen. That can make all the difference.

17. Fact check your notes: The framework for your progress note often is the note from the day prior. It sounds obvious, but make sure that you go through the note and make updates and changes accordingly. If today is 01/15, there’s a good chance that the Fungitell from 12/31 is not still pending. 

18. Try to learn some nursing skills: This is one of the areas in which I most envy my NP colleagues. If a patient’s IV pump is beeping or their central line need to be flushed, I oftentimes awkwardly step out of the room and look vacantly into the distance for a nurse. I’ve finally figured out how to spike a bag (albeit I do so very slowly, and it certainly makes the RNs giggle some). I talked to our unit’s nurse manager, and she’s willing for me to learn some nursing skills from the staff during a slow day- we’ll see when thing slow down!

19. Be kind: Generally speaking, being in a hospital is stressful. Patients are feeling out of sorts, and staff are working with constant dinging in the background. I rant plenty on this website, but I’m kind to everyone at work (with few exceptions) because it makes things more comfortable for everyone. Additionally, if you are always kind to your patients and colleagues, your reputation will speak for itself. One time I was walking down a hall with poor reception while on my ASCOM with a notoriously standoffish nurse from another unit. My phone cut out. She called my unit’s nurse manager to complain, and the nurse manager told her that I would never hang up on purpose. My interactions with the nurse going forward were always more pleasant in nature.

20. Support your team: The best colleagues are not the smartest colleagues; the best coworkers are the ones who have your back. Whether it’s a medical emergency or just a strange situation, it’s important to be supported and to give support.

I know that I’ve learned a lot more than this, so I’ll likely be adding to this throughout the year. Happy Snow Day, all!

[unwhithered]

Two weeks ago tonight I received a mass text message. It said, you have all been exposed to COVID 19. It said, do not come to the office, do not see clients. The follow up email reminded us to be available by phone an email while waiting in line to be tested, and don't forget to meet your productivity!

Two weeks of quarantine - I did the math, just that one exposure at one building cost 300+ current and formerly homeless folks supportive services for two weeks. It has probably cost at least one of my clients his last best chance at being housed. January 1st he will be back on the street, probably, because we lost two and a half weeks here, more the month before, all to COVID exposures

I stood in the same room with my supervisor, that day we were exposed. We wore masks. We stood too close together in her tiny office and laughed. I have tested negative twice and she is out sick indefinitely, logging into occasional zoom updates looking closer to fifty than thirty.

My sister's favorite coworker messaged us at 11 last night to say he got the call. He tested positive. They sit next to each other all day at desks that never let them be six feet apart. They share food, even though it's banned - you cannot survive a pandemic beside the same person every day for 8 months without sharing chocolates along with your fears, I guess. The bureaucrats told my sister to come into work, to deal face to face with cancer patients anyway. The doctors overruled them. She gets a test, and a break from patients, and calls me panicking at lunch because she still has to show up to the office.

Her coworker is offered quarantine housing - after his whole family has been exposed to him already. He packs a bag. He doesn't go, because his daughter is afraid if he leaves she will never see him again. He's buried two people from COVID this year.

My other sister has a cough that won't go away. Her lips turn blue when she walks up stairs. Urgent care gives her a rapid test, the least accurate kind, and sends her home with antibiotics. When those don't work they give her an inhaler. When we finally get her home to a competent medical infrastructure they order COVID testing and schedule follow up calls.

I wonder if I'll spend the rest of December in quarantine with her. I wonder what will happen to my clients.

Every day I get a push notification with the latest city and county data and rule changes. How many people died today. How many icu beds are left. Every week work sends an email - we know it's a scary time, don't forget to meet you productivity! And don't worry, we'll give you 80 hours of pto to use if you get COVID!

I have been exposed so many times I've lost count now. Coworkers and clients and random run ins at the office and every one steals time and mental health from me. I've been tested at least six, maybe seven or 8 times. I'm lucky, it's easy to get tested here. I just have to sit in line. Take client calls while I wait to get a swab kit passed through my car window on a pole. Reschedule weeks worth of work while I wait for results, cram it all into half the time once I get them.

Every time I'm a little less resilient. The anxiety gets worse. Our local health infrastructure is crumbling under the weight of it all. I go back out into the field tomorrow - I'm calculating how to get as much done as possible before the next exposure, before the next two weeks of mandatory quarantine to work from home.

And we're so lucky. We haven't lost anyone, we haven't had it, yet. But this feels like the edge and we're toppling over. Everyone around us is getting it. We do not have the option to just stay home and isolate like the county order advises. Clinical homeless services and oncology unit support staff are essential. Will always be essential.

I am so tired of being essential.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Iwaizumi in Bad Day Surprises

OMG LOVE. THIS IS SO BIG-BRAIN, I LOVE THIS. I hope you enjoy this @scrappydaisies​ 😘 

Word count: ~1.7k

BOKUTO 

⭐ It was one of those days where everything that could go wrong, went wrong

⭐ You woke up late, missing breakfast as you ran to work, awkwardly putting on your jacket as you sprinted

⭐ When you got to work, you hadn’t printed your proposal and notes, so you ran late for the meeting because of it

⭐ To top it off, you forgot you had a meeting with your supervisor to discuss a potential raise

⭐ (Yikes)

⭐ Of course, you not only forgot your lunch, you’d forgotten your wallet so you couldn’t even buy food!

⭐ Just a whole-ass series of unfortunate events 😔

⭐ Normally, you’d go bother Akaashi - one of your coworkers’ & the reason you had met Bokuto - but he was out with the flu so you didn’t want to bother him

⭐ You also would have texted Bokuto an SOS, BUT of course, he was out traveling for a match so there was no help there

⭐ So, you found yourself fuming at your desk, asking yourself and all possible deities out there on why you had such bad karma, angrily vent-texting Bokuto

⭐ Though he was preoccupied and not reading/responding to your texts, you felt a bit better getting it out of your system

⭐ One of your other coworkers noticed the predicament that you were in, and ended up buying you food

⭐ As you made your way home, you pull out your phone again to see that Bokuto had left you on read 

⭐ Well okay then

⭐ It’s not like that hurt or anything

⭐ (it 100% did but what else could go wrong, y’know?)

⭐ Bokuto wasn’t supposed to be back for a few days because work

⭐ But that didn’t stop you from opening the door and calling “I’m home!” to an empty house

⭐ Leading to you laughing at yourself...which eventually became hysterical...and soon enough, you were standing in the hallway sobbing

⭐ “Babe?”

⭐ Your brain short-circuits

⭐ “K-kou?!” you sniff

⭐ You were a complete wreck by now. Like, your entire face was hot, the tears would not stop, you were snotty as heck

⭐ Your boyfriend appears in the doorway, his eyes wide at your face before he rushes at you

⭐ “What’s wrong pretty one?” he asks, “is it because of your day?”

⭐ (ngl imagining Bokuto calling you ‘pretty one’ made my heart skip a beat)

⭐ “Kou!” you sob, burying your face into his chest. “Today was honestly the worst day of my life”

⭐ He just rubs your back soothingly, murmuring soft declarations of love and comfort

⭐ You pull back, wiping your nose on your sleeve 

⭐ “Wait, what are you doing here?”

⭐ “Oh right! C’mere”

⭐ Bokuto takes your hand gently, leading you towards the living room

⭐ He had taken the time to construct a massive blanket fort there, golden fairy lights everywhere. The TV was already on with your favorite movie queued, and bags of your favorite takeout were there

⭐ Bokuto scratched at the back of his neck. “I knew you were having a really rough day, and I got back early so I figured you’d like this surprise”

⭐ Of course, you start crying again and Bokuto’s freaking out like OML WHAT DO I EVEN DO

⭐ He thought he broke you, the poor bby

⭐ You’re just shaking your head, crying and you’re just like “I just love you so much, why the heck are you so thoughtful”

⭐ He panics and is like, “why don’t we get you outta this and we can start watching some movies, yeah?’

⭐ And you’re like nodding (you’re still crying lmao) as you drag your feet to the bathroom to freshen up, change, and rejoin your mans in the living room

⭐ “You’re literally the best, you know that?” you sniffle as you re-enter

⭐ Bokuto flashes you a grin, opening his arms as he waits for you to crawl into them

⭐ “I’m so lucky to have you” you mutter, burying your face once more

⭐ “Oh baby, I think I’m lucky to have you” he says as he chuckles, rubbing your back and peppering kisses onto your face

⭐ But in general, Bokuto will randomly surprise you with food, snacks, spontaneous things whenever you’re having a bad day because spontaneity is fun as heck! 

TSUKISHIMA

⭐ You and Tsukki met when you guys were in the same class

⭐ Your teacher had separated him from Yams because they kept talking (SMACK)

⭐ Little did he know that by moving Tsukishima to sit behind you, you’d end up dating!

⭐ It started when you were jamming out to music and straight vibing

⭐ He was kinda intrigued, the boy thought you were cute but he didn’t want to vocalise it because he’s such a kuudere istg

⭐ It was Yams who started talking to you, which encouraged Tsukki to do so as well!

⭐ SUCCESS

⭐ Anyways, y’all start dating and all that jazz

⭐ One day, you come into school lookin like a wreck. A complete mess

⭐ You had pulled an all-nighter in order to finish a paper you were really struggling with

⭐ Like, you had been working on it all. week. and you STILL needed that extra 8 hours to work on it

⭐ And as you were leaving the house this morning, your parents were yelling at you for grades or something, so in general you were in a bad mood

⭐ To top it all off, your headphones had decided to die while you were walking to class, so you didn’t even have the comfort of music to help you

⭐ You were ranting the entirety of lunch, with Yams interjecting with some words of comfort as Tsukishima just silently listened and provided you soft touches to let you know that he was there

⭐ He really wasn’t the type to talk much, especially in public. BUT he was definitely very expressive behind closed doors

⭐ So, once school ends, you head home and just collapse onto your bed - dead to the world

⭐ You woke up because your phone started ringing

⭐ In your haste to fall asleep, it somehow ended up stuck to your face LOL

⭐ You pick it up, groggy as heck

⭐ “Hullo?”

⭐ “Can you open the door?”

⭐ “Kei?!” 

⭐ You stand up suddenly, falling onto the floor as the sudden blood-rush made you lighte-headed

⭐ “Did you just fall?” he asked, snickering slightly

⭐ “Shut up” you scowl as you slowly get your bearings and make your way to the door, hanging up in the process

⭐ “What are you doing here?” you ask, rubbing your eye with your knuckles as you stare up at your boyfriend

⭐ “Am I not allowed to visit you?” he quipped back, a pink flush on his cheeks. “I have something for you”

⭐ You step back, letting him into the house. “You didn’t have to, I’m sure you’re tired after practice”

⭐ “Shut up, I wanted to”

⭐ You guys make your way to your room

⭐ Tsukishima sits at your desk, unzipping his volleyball bag and pulling out a box. “Here.” he says, passing it to you

⭐ Your eyes widen. “Kei! You really didn’t have to”

⭐ He had gotten you some fancy, noise-cancelling headphones 

⭐ (Personally, they’d be AirPods but y’know, it’s whatever y’all prefer!)

⭐ “I know you were having a rough day, and music always makes it better for you so just take it,” he scowled, hiding the red roses on his cheeks

⭐ You grin, putting it down gently before you throw yourself onto him. “Thank you, thank you so much”

⭐ “You’re welcome.” He coughs awkwardly

⭐ Pulling back, you eye his face as he fiddles with his hands.

⭐ “Do you...maybe wanna cuddle or something?” you smirk

⭐ “Shut up..maybe”

⭐ “C’mon then”

⭐ Anyways, if it wasn’t obvious, Tsukki is the type that will hold you and listen to you rant 

IWAIZUMI

⭐ Ugh, college-life woes

⭐ You and Iwa lived together in an apartment. Y’all have been dating for a cool min now

⭐ But the problem of adult life!!

⭐ Y’all just don’t have time for one another

⭐ Or, not as much as you’d like

⭐ Iwa’s busy with his classes and internship

⭐ (Not to mention working out because c’mon this man never stops the grind)

⭐ Like this man is working HARD for his future!!!

⭐ You’re busy finishing up your own final projects and working too

⭐ Y’all basically only see each other for a few minutes every night when you’re laying in bed, updating each other about your day’s before you KO

⭐ SO, when you come home after a really stressful week of late-nights, little sleep, one-meal a day type of situation, you were pleasantly surprised to find your boo at home

⭐ Not to mention, there were candles out, a bottle of wine on the table, and plates of your favorite meal

⭐ HOME-COOKED BECAUSE THIS MAN IS THE PERFECT PACKAGE OK

⭐ “What is this?”

⭐ He looks up, grinning. “Well, I know that someone hasn’t been able to take care of themselves this week, so I decided to take the night off and spend time with them”

⭐ Iwaizumi comes around you, guiding you to the table by the small of your back

⭐ Pulling out the chair, letting you sit before he pushes it in

⭐ “You’re spoiling me Haji” you muse as he pours you a glass of wine

⭐ “Well if you won’t do it, then I will” he shrugs. “Cheers baby” he lifts his own glass, waiting for you to tap yours against his

⭐ If you thought that was the surprise, YOU WERE MISTAKEN

⭐ BECAUSE THERE WAS MOREEE

⭐ He decided to go ALL-OUT with the romance

⭐ After you guys finish dinner, he leads you up to the bathroom where there were unlit candles, and a BATH BOMB

⭐ TBH, I’m imagining LUSH’s Sex Bomb bath-bomb, but it’s whatever you prefer!

⭐ Just know that he added extra petals into the bath just for you

⭐ (you always complain that there weren’t enough lmao)

⭐ He draws the bath and lights the candles as you strip and get ready to shower

⭐ This man is out here washing your hair, soaping you up

⭐ All that wholesome goodness 💘

⭐ He even carries you into the bath!!

⭐ After you’re situated, he brings you the wine glasses and a tablet so y’all can watch a movie or catch up to whatever anime y’all are watching together as he slips into the bath behind you

⭐ All in all, he goes ALL OUT when it comes to spoiling you (he’s a romantic at heart) and honestly, you just need to cuff this man A.S.A.P. 

general taglist: @scrappydaisies​ @newfriendjen​  @kyomihann

Please contact me if you would like to be a part of my general taglist! 💞 Check out this link for information about my taglists.

[kimnamshiks]

You Got it Like That?

Alternately longer Title: You Got it Like That? (Damn that’s crazy)

Pairing: Wooyoung x Female Reader

Genre: Whatever the hell this plot is and Smut

Rating: Explicit

WC: 7.5k+ (below 8k that’s for sure)

Tags: Smut, light fluff, bad attempt at humor, brief Minsan shenanigans, Fingering (female receiving), Temperature play kink, slight praise kink, slight kink discovery (anal), marking kink, some other shit I’ll update if I missed it. Briefest mentions of Seonghwa

Summary: You just needed to get through this week at the resort at the hands of 20 coworkers and Wooyoung; the Sales Department Supervisor who got some raunchy photos of you the day prior.

Taglist: @atiny-piratequeen @thereal-smolchild @angel0taiyo

You stumbled through your house happily, sorta out of it since you’re still high on the party you just left from. A little drinking here and being around smokers that had you linger in the weed; the endorphins coursing through you were pretty higher than usual on this Saturday night. A friend’s night that turned into crashing someone’s party freely without judgment which made everything better in your opinion.

You were on your way to stripping off your clothes when a buzz alerted you, taking your attention away from your work at hand.

+1[245] woobieboobie Uh… I believe you sent it to the wrong person? But holy hell you really did that. Didn’t expect that this late but thank you (;

Confused, you opened the message in full and damn near dropped your phone in shock. Six photos of you in states of undress stared back at you. Provocative and cheeky (literally, ass cheeks showing in some) as you smiled happily towards the lens of your phone. Your breast pushed up in the little strappy blue chemise set you wore to show off your body littered with little bruises and fingerprints on your thighs. Even some prints were dark on your shoulders from one of your wilder nights from a quickie. Honestly, you can’t even remember who’s house you took them in..

Though you managed to send them out to for… what exactly? Looking at it, you couldn’t help but groan in dismay.

+1 [873] me [image89.jpg attachment sent] Feeling sorry that you can’t leave these on me huh. SOL~  Gotta work for it if you want it, doll xoxo

Above those photo messages were questions about the next team-building trip that your company was supposed to take for the week, discussing with your co-manager Wooyoung, from the sales department. Just brainstorming ideas on how to get the departments to know that they work together, no matter how much push back you get from each other. 

Both of you got close over the process of thinking this up and getting approval by the company head. If it brings back good results they may make this an option across the board for the rest of the departments who can’t get along. Yea you crushed on him a bit but who wouldn’t? He was hard-working, caring, pretty funny and fucking fine as shit. 

You weren’t trying to mess the good balance of friendship up right now cause of some tipsy texting.

There was one for almost every photo too! You didn’t drink that much did you?

+1 [873] me [image90.jpg attachment sent] Wanna know what you like about this pose.

+1 [873] me [image95.jpg attachment sent]    Tbh my form looks the best it’s ever been.

+1 [873] me [image105.jpg attachment sent] Call me pretty cause I almost had to beat an asshole up for saying I looked like shit tonight :(

You couldn’t do anything more than spam a message out in response and hope, praying that Wooyoung doesn’t say anything to you tomorrow.

+1 [873] me Kfajsdlgjskfjogsldfj!!! uH THANKS?! DELETE PLZ. SEE YOU TOMORROW!

+1 [245] woobieboobie ….. (:  Hmm. See you tomorrow beautiful~ ;3

Based on that response, you knew he wasn’t. The fucking troll. Regardless you made sure the pictures were saved and got ready for bed. There were no real regrets, just the slight anxiousness of the unknown

Would he ask you about it?

Did he want details?

Would he ask for more of them?

Which you wouldn’t mind if it was any of your girlfriends, but you two haven’t hit that stage yet in friendship to even know if jokes like that were allowed (from what you thought). So this was a huge deal for you.

With a sigh you set your alarm and laid down. No one was going to hear about your lapse in texting, you were going to take this to the grave.

If your dream happened to have a certain male coworker and a few Kamasutra positions no one was going to know.

When Sunday rolled around, Wooyoung was nothing but a gentleman to you. He made sure to carry your bags or help get the large group of 20 people to quiet down enough to listen. It was like he was trying to somehow stay on your good side. It had you relax enough to not think of this type of trip of anything business, just a group of people trying to understand each other at the end of the day.

His conversation light on the bus to the resort that was agreed upon, having you laugh, choosing dumb driving games to pass the time there. It was nice to see both departments playing The Movie Game or even having acapella showdowns. 

It was pretty nice. Even when they got to their destination to see their sleeping arrangement, he didn’t bring it up. Well… If he wasn’t going to say anything you would pretend like nothing went on. Wooyoung and yourself had one cabin, then there was 5 to the large cabins in the surrounding area. 

“Okay guys! We’re going to make you all pull colored sticks -- Whatever color you get we’ll throw a number and that’s the cabin. No switching at all and I mean it!” Wooyoung said above all the groans and whining.

“But you two get your own that’s not fair!” his friend, Mingi exclaimed.

San moved up with a giant pout on his lips. He knew you were sorta weak for them anyways. “Yea why don’t you guys have to do the popsicle thing too!”

You pinched his cheeks playfully, yet your voice was slightly stern. “Because Wooyoung and I made the decision to do this. We’re supposed to have fun but we are also supposed to make sure you guys stop trying to destroy each other’s job.” 

“Regardless of what happens do know you guys are still getting the normal pay that you would if you did work. So no need to worry about that.” Wooyoung assured them at your side.

Everyone seemed to relax more at that before they got the sticks to be roomed. Once it was fixed and you sent each group on to their merry way Wooyoung hip-checked you to get your attention.

“So roomie shall we get our little cabin together?” he was twirling the room key as he asked. He stuck his arm out afterward with a little wink.

“Aah… I guess roomie. It shouldn’t be so bad~.” you sang, sauntering off towards the destination. 

The rooms were beside each other, pretty spacious from everything of the bathroom to the living room and open floor kitchen. Covered in soft colors you would think it was more of someone's house than that of a resort. Both of you moved things into the respective rooms to set up, heading to sleep since it was pretty late for the first day.

“Night Woo!” you sang to the wall, getting comfortable into your bed.

“Night. Sleep well~” he sang back.

There was more shuffling on his side before you succumbed to sleeping, tomorrow’s worries for the you of tomorrow.

As the week progressed, to you it seemed as if your coworkers were actually getting along with each other. Besides the standard disagreement or someone getting into their feelings, it wasn’t so bad. You got to know Wooyoung’s team more so as you helped them when you explained why your promotions team needs their hand in hand cooperation when asked of them. Just a simple “Everyone on the same page makes things run smoother.”

You also got to know Wooyoung more so in his work environment. He made sure to repeat anything that someone needed help with, ready with a playful remark if someone would call him out on being wrong. He even entertained everyone with a little dance if someone got a question right.

He was so fucking cute you could honestly get cavities right now.

When everything was done you all would head back to either the cabins or the entertainment on the property to set up. Sometimes you had a few of your teammates, like Dahyun or even Jessi who would take you out to see all that the full resort had to offer. Drink or flirt a bit with the other distant company people who used the other spaces. 

Mingi catching you out late for talks and jokes before San would join, all of you guys laughing till your stomachs hurt. Maybe stay up later than normal around a little fire looking at the stars.

Other times it was just you and Wooyoung laughing about on the walking trail or sharing snacks with some dumb reality tv show. When you would cook he’d try to be helpful, making sure nothing was too far or too hard to reach. It was really sweet, learning more about him. From the favorite foods or movies-- learning about his whole squad of friends are apart of the company. (He didn’t tell them that he personally knew them for years, just of their working together) Mingi and San being his department while the oldest one, Seonghwa, being apart of your team. 4 other members were spread out in the other departments.

Being so domestic so quickly like it was second nature to both of you.

He even made sure to knock before trying to enter into your space or making sure everything was alright before doing something that he would consider uncomfortable for you. (“Hey I’m gonna come out shirtless!” “Okay that’s fine!” “Don’t look!” “Why cause you got cute nips or something?”) When you asked him about it, he just smiles cutely to tell you it’s to make sure you were dressed or that if you brought anyone in while he was in the shower, all parties would know.

Sometimes Wooyoung would forget of course. You would sneak glances at him every now and then; wet and soft from the shower. His body a touch pink from the hot water with his bottoms hanging off his hips.

“Like what you see~?” he’d whisper over to you when he caught you looking. 

“It’s here for show so I might as well enjoy it huh?”

“Then I deserve one too right? You are very beautiful.” He told you one time when he was drying his hair and he looked at you expectantly. Even when you flushed hard from the statement, shoving him playfully and whining, he just ruffled your hair up.

You two got comfortable enough that you would be cooking in your pjs just after a shower. Where you wouldn’t be fully dry and the clothes would stick to your frame just a bit more. He never made comments but you felt eyes on you more so than not. 

“What am I going to do once we leave here? I’m not going to have your cooking anymore~,” he lamented over the ribs he ate.

You scrunched your nose at his messy eating, even as you were thinking that he looked like a little chipmunk with his mouth full. “Well, we can always hang out after this you know. Or I can just bring food to the job?” you offered.

“Mmm…” he trailed off as he finished chewing-- eyes focusing back on you sharp and serious, “Rather just hang out with you. Then I don’t have to share at all.”

His tone was playful when he said it, but his eyes told you a whole different story. It wasn’t something you saw directed at you so it kind of made you a bit hot under the collar of your pajamas.

“I like sharing though~. It’s okay you’ll just need to work for that huh?” you giggled in the same breath to reach over and clean his face with your thumb.

You sat back without care, cleaning your hands to resume eating but Wooyoung was sort of stuck in his thoughts. Seeing you eat so cutely after doing something like that without warning had his heart rushing. Blinking back into the present he finally responded with a,

“I’ll work for it. Don’t you worry.”

The light-haired male sounded cocky, in turn, you shrugging your shoulders to continue eating.

“We’ll see about that.”

Sometimes… Mingi and San were your main trouble makers from Wooyoung’s team who continued to push your buttons when you were just trying to be informative. Mostly making you come over and show them easy steps in the program that you guys utilize to get any updates. Hands-on enough that they start to look flustered as well when you press up against them, voice soft with a bit of an edge cause your patience was running thin.

Maybe you were teasing them. No one’s gonna notice since everyone should be focused on their work anyways right? San’s face flushing harder than usual though this time. He seemed almost shy with you, whispering “Oh okay I get it now.”

Wooyoung stood off to the side of one of your workers, clenching his teeth at the scene. Trying to figure out what was going on between you three right now.

When you turned to him and gave a thumbs-up, he scoffed and focused on his work at hand with helping. You were confused at his antics but shrugged-- He’ll talk to you if something serious was going on. He was probably just pissed about something.

Later on in the day everyone seemed to be doing better now when they got paired up to work on a small project together. Quiet laughter or a little flirting here and there happened.

You moved over to Wooyoung who stood against the wall silently, murmuring “You alright..?” “‘M fine.” He gritted out, gripping his arms tight before letting them fall to the side. His brows were still pushed together in a slight frown, purple locks of hair sort of sticking to his forehead. You reached out to move them out of the way to smooth the wrinkles from his face.

“You’re not but I won’t pry. Just relax your face hun, you’ll have your face stuck like that~” you playfully jeered and bumped shoulders.

He seemed to freeze a bit before relaxing, giving you a quirk of a smile that you couldn’t help but be extra over.

A faux gasp and a coo came from you. “Aw see? You turned that frown upside down~ Good boy!”

He choked on seemingly nothing before pushing away from the wall. “Shut up dork. Let’s finish, got an announcement for everyone.” “Not even a dork!”

A call of your name distracted you both for a moment before you looked at him seriously.

“But you’ll tell me if somethings wrong right? I won’t judge you or anything, Wooyoung.”

He gave you a look that said something that you couldn’t quite understand. He nodded, making a face when Mingi came over and dragged you away in excited chatter.

“I heard there’s a dance tonight! San and I are going to take you as our date~”

“Hey how did you hear about that!” Wooyoung’s voice screamed across the area.

Both of you giggled, gossiping about what to do as well as what to wear for later that night. Both unaware of the slightly angry look Wooyoung gave to your backs.

You’ve been added to the group chat: Date night!

+1 [177] minglepringle Hope you’re ready~ Me and san will be over there soon~!

+1 [392] sanscript I look better than Mingi just letting you know.

+1 [177] minglepringle We’ll see about that.

+1 [873] me Boys I bet you both look dashing. Stop fighting I’m TRYING to finish getting dressed! Or I’m dumping both of you!

Your mind was too busy giggling at their antics in the text messages. Their playful banter and whining that you got used to over getting close with them, you enjoyed seeing it as much as you have. You also think that they may be fucking but that’s on a whole other note. So immersed into everything that you missed Wooyoung’s warning of checking in that his loud gasp had you turning quick. 

There he stood, so fucking beautiful in his all-white suit with his hair fluffed up fully around his head, the middle-parted style that fit his look too well if anyone asked you. His eyes were rimmed in light brown eyeliner; a thin diamond choker on with a pair of earrings that added to the overall expensive look. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow down the expanse of his neck to the peak of collarbone winking at you from behind the open plackets of his black shirt. It was tucked into his pants to showcase the little waist and his pants clung to thick thighs and calves. 

“Holy fuck Woo…” 

Your eyes trailed back up his form with no shame as you damn near undress him mentally. Shouldn’t do that given you guys work together but what the job doesn’t know won’t hurt anyone.

“You look... Really good.” You finally finished when you gathered yourself together, looking up to meet his eyes. They were slightly hazy and far off before they focused on you. His jaw set when he walked farther into the room.

“Thank you. I’d say the same for you though. Is that all you’re going to wear darling~?” he asked in such a soft candied voice that you got whiplash from the change of his tone, “Just a bralette and boy shorts? Think the boys would like that a lot hm? Seeing their stern supervisor looking all pretty like that.”

You sucked in a quick breath, feeling your nipples harden against the cloth at attention from his voice. Even your heartbeat began to pick up when you realized he was watching your body respond to his voice, a smirk on his features. The thought of covering yourself up shyly was the last thing on your mind as you shakily exhaled.

“Not at all,” voice in a whisper as you grab your dress to slowly slip on in front of his eyes. 

“I was just caught off guard, Wooyoung.” you kept the same tone as he tilted his head. 

Probably taking in your figure now that it was covered back up in the peach shade maxi wrap dress, long enough to brush against the floor with the slit high enough to show your legs. White liner with darkened lashes with a smudge of brown shadow with nude glossed lips was the choice of makeup.

You added a pair of brown studs into your ears as you bit your lip, giving him a slow twirl so your dress could float around you. Stopping, you asked softly, “Well? How do I look now?”

Wooyoung stepped closer to run the back of his knuckles against your cheek, opening his mouth to say something but it was interrupted by a knock on the main door from two excited voices.

“We’re here to pick you up~!”

“Move Woo stop hogging our date!”

It broke whatever air wrapped around you two that you put on your boots and felt your face heating up quickly.

You didn’t know what to say as he still stood there, looking at you with so many emotions that you felt hot yet again.

“I gotta go Wooyoung…”

He sighed and backed up, his playful air back around him “Save me a dance would you?”

You booped his nose and nodded, giving a bashful smile before leaving to San and Mingi’s insistent whining. You couldn’t really process what was going on but at this point, it didn’t matter; two gorgeous men were your date for tonight and you decided you were going to have fun.

Which you were having. The guys made you three take so many pictures you were sure there was a whole album dedicated to it now. Lots of solo shots of you making funny faces or doing runway poses that you made them do tenfold. (”Can’t wait to use this cute one as blackmail” “You wouldn’t dare!” “Oh doll, you will learn real quick I’m vindictive.” “That’s kinda hot...” Choking sound here somewhere. “Mingi plEASE”)

They layered on the compliments thick to get you to giggle or shove at them on the way there, even when they were the equivalent of models on the fashion runway themselves. Each male held the door open to the pavilion to you before all three of you walked in with each other. It was gorgeously colored with a stage where the DJ was switching up his songs in front of the large dance floor littered with people. Surrounding it were the tables that already had forgotten drinks or people’s belongings there, or just people not really dancing just relaxing with food on their plates.

The music was everything from every genre you could think of that you could sing or dance to, open bar and buffet that you won’t admit you visited more times than you’d admit. It was only to keep your mind off your roommate but it wasn’t helping when your eyes would drift over to him from your peripherals, catching him drinking at the bar or laughing loudly at something someone said. 

Fuck it. You can get lost in the dancing since you felt a little looser from the alcohol thrumming in your system. Dahyun and Jessi off doing lord knows what with whatever guys they suckered into doing their bidding for the night.

“Mingi come here! I lost you somehow and you’re supposed to be dancing with me,” you whined loudly while pulling him close and grinding on him before dropping it low to your knees.

He laughed around a whispered “holy shit” as he followed your dancing, his big hands pulling you back up to roll and dance on him again. Songs passed with the two of you sharing another drink before San joined to sandwich you in. It gathered a crowd when you three started dancing raunchier with a couple of other people. Especially with the way the two males really had you going because of their wandering hands and smoldering gazes. When you were gyrating really hard on San, he gripped your hips before trying to tickle your sides.

“You’re such a tease~. We’re definitely going clubbing when we get back to the city.” San whispered in your ear, holding up a finger sandwich to feed you.

You turned to blow a kiss at him before eating the offered food. “I would love that! I’ll go get some water and some food. I don’t wanna eat everything you’re feeding me~.”

Both nodded at you when told them you’ll take a break since you were so sweaty and out of breath from all the dancing, happily giving each of them a small peck on the cheek. You laughed at some of the comments of surprise that you got as you made your way to the bar.

Yea no one’s seen you dance like that but again you all were here to have fun right? It’s bound to happen sometime so at the end of it all, it was something dumb to think or fret over. None of them were CEO’s or anything (well you couldn’t say that for the other people at the resort, but they don’t know you.)

Yet before you could make it there you were stopped by an unfamiliar male stepping into your space.

“I’m sorry but I’m trying to get somewhere so if you could just..Move out the way please that would be great.” 

“I just wanted to tell you that your dancing out there was really sexy,” the male stated, moving into your space with an open look on his face. You didn’t really respond but you were guessing your nonresponse was a good cue to him.

“Maybe if you like for me to get you drinks we can get to know each other. Or just let off some steam, if you know what I mean.”

You stepped around him, shaking your head. “Sorry but it’s not what I’m looking for now excuse me--”

He takes a grip at your hand, tight that he had to have heard you snarling. “So you’ll dance like a slut for those two guys but you won’t even give me a look? Especially when I look better than them both?”

You bristled at the comment of him talking about Mingi and San like that, turning around to give him a piece of your mind when Seonghwa steps up to you with Wooyoung in tow.

“It seems like she doesn’t want to deal with you sir,” Seonghwa’s voice was firm, gripping his upper arm tight enough that the guy yelped and let go.

Wooyoung makes sure to stop you from clocking the guy by putting his hand onto your lower back. It was a nice touch but it didn’t calm you down at all.

“This has nothing to do with you--”

“Assholes who think their hot shit? Overcompensating too? Guys like you aren’t the ones I go for.” you spat quickly,  “Fuck with me again, or any of my people and you’ll be trying to find the best doctor in town to stitch your dick back on to yourself.” Angrily you stared him down, allowing Wooyoung to tug you away from the asshole and off to a quiet room.

Once the door was locked, he watched as you paced back and forth for a few minutes. He was even calm as you blew up.

“The nerve of that dickwad! The way I dance has nothing to do with who’s allowed to talk to me or not! Literally has no correlation.”

Wooyoung stood by the door and listened as you ranted, sipping on his drink.

“Lucky I didn’t fuck him up. I look too good to be brawlin today. He even had the nerve to talk about Mingi and San? He really fucking lucky--”

“You really fucking do and it’s driving me insane,” Wooyoung growled from behind you, having you jump from how close he was. “You look like a goddess reincarnated and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Wooyou-” you began as your body responded to his closeness again. 

He slowly pressed his body against yours, unashamed at the loud gasp you gave him because of his clothed dick hitting your hip.

“See?” the male whispered, looking up into your eyes, “Being so carefree from judgment, dancing how you want. Singing loudly and having a good time regardless of who is around; gorgeous. You made sure to include everyone that was close to dance or sing because you wanted to enjoy this party.”

You really didn’t know where he was going with this but you heaved a shaky inhale when you caught him looking at your lips. 

“It just made me like you a hella lot more… Sweaty, hooded eyes were so enticing. Then when you handled yourself with that guy back there, you got so protective and serious…” he trailed off, his dick twitching against your hip again.

“Really wanted to get on my knees and eat you out right on that dance floor… it was so damn sexy you just don’t know what you do to me.”

An airy moan slipped past your lips from his confession, his response of holding you closer and a tad bit tighter had your nipples pebbling to hardness swiftly. Wooyoung’s hands slid down to cup your ass that you whined out his name.

“When you sent those photos… I wanted to have a quick jerk session. Had a hot moment of jealousy…” he whispered now, leaning in to brush his lips along the quickening pulse on your neck. “I wanted to mark you up like that. Have my fingerprints linger on you for days from holding you so hard. Wanted my mouth to find out all your weak spots to have you crying..”

Your arms wrapped around him as you shivered, hips canting slowly against him in the slow simmer of want.

“Wha- What stopped you then hm?” It was a breathy ask while you carded your fingers through his hair, your leg sliding up to wrap around his hip to hold on. You were feeling a bit faint.

His moan vibrated against your skin as he replied “Wanted to be a good boy for you. Said I had to work for it, remember? So I have been.”

Pulling away, you looked at him questioningly, his skin pinkening with an almost boyish shyness to it as he mumbled, “Was gonna wait for the perfect time so I could take you out to dinner then hopefully get to this point now.” Which done it in for you.

"Tell me more doll, wanna hear it." You purred sweetly, feeling him give a full-bodied shutter.

"Didn't want you thinking that I suddenly wanted to fuck because of those pictures. But I've looked at them once in a while this week, hoping I could get you like that myself."

He was suddenly picking you up impatiently to set you on the table in the middle of the room; his lips nipping at the skin he could reach right now as you whined under him.

"Shit, Wooyoung," a hard whimper left your throat and you rutted up against him. "Same. It's the same. I've been crushing on you but didn't wanna complicate things I.."

Your words died on your tongue as he trailed his hand along your body, letting you arch into the feather-light touch before he put his glass down. “Can I kiss you?”

Your arms shot up and tugged him half onto you, nipping his bottom lip hard before kissing him deeply. His mouth tasting of Malibu Sunset shots and something else you couldn't place, both of you groaning at the contact. Tugging at fabric to get to heated damp skin made you a bit desperate, given how many times you have imagined doing anything remotely sexual with him.

“Pretty baby, panting so hard and we haven’t even gotten naked yet huh? You want me that badly? Want my hands on your bare skin that much.” he taunted, pulling back from your grabby hands with a playful pout.

“You take your dress off and then I’ll be good for you to take my clothes off too.”

You sat up with a pout back to him, tone going sultry instead, “That’s unfair cause I really am. If you’re my good boy you’d let me take off your clothes for you. Maybe even let me choke on your dick. I’ve been wanting it for so long~”

You watched as Wooyoung’s dick twitched hard, seeing his hands shake to a stop before moving back towards you in a flash. Inwardly you cheered in victory, hurriedly breaking a few buttons off his shirt and shoving everything off his body. As a prize, you immediately went to sucking marks on to his skin-- feeling his groan of your name vibrate on onto your lips. 

You left lipstick marks in some places before sucking harshly on others such as his cute nipples and the lines of softly defined muscle, all the while he tried to push your dress off your shoulders. You made a show of sliding your hand into his pants and gripped his dick that was already slick. 

“Who’s wet now doll? Hm?” you moaned out high and breathless, skin prickling with goosebumps from the sudden attack of cold water droplets falling onto your chest.

“Baby, you will be soaked when I’m done with you. Come on, clothes off wanna try something.”

He was asking you in a rush which was sweet but you really wanted his dick in you someway so you relented your control this time to him. You hurriedly slid your dress off your body and moved to get onto the table before Wooyoung tugged you by your bra and kissed you hard again. He was mapping out your mouth like he wanted to remember every dip and curve of it; sloppy, messy and so fucking hot you knew you were dripping in your panties now. “This okay? Not uncomfortable?” he pulled his lips away from yours, gently pushing you back from following.

You swallowed, whimpering out a “Yea it’s fine” from his serious gaze at your face.

When you didn’t change your mind he relaxed and kissed you again. Stealing your breath and making you drool a bit making it hot and messy in the right way.

When cold, wet fingers slide down the curve of your breast your body curved to the touch happily, mind already dopey on wanting Wooyoung’s touch; on wanting anything Wooyoung could give you right now. His mouth moved down your neck, lapping and sucking just as many bruises into your skin in repayment to your own work. 

Wooyoung would cover the next stops of his lips with thin layers of alcohol to suck off your skin as if you two had all the time in the world, skipping past your aching breasts to apply more of the sweet liquid on your stomach then your thighs. He made you sit back on the table as he made a promise to his earlier statement and marked you up basically head to toe; his eyes dilating fully to the point of pitch blackness cause of the whining and mewling.

“Fuck. Just let me..” Wooyoung spluttered while grabbing his phone to take a few photos.

You were leaning back with your legs spread, fingers rubbing your clit over your soaked through panties frantic now. Honestly, you don’t know how you even made it through his markings because you couldn’t describe how much you loved it; probably looking too gone already by how he froze for just a moment. He joined you after shuffling his pants off to finally snatch your bra off to give some love to your aching breasts.

But not without adding an ice cube between his lips then sucking a nipple into the same space. The moan that bubbled out of your mouth was nothing less than dirty, making Wooyoung double his efforts. He did this to the other one as well to make your peaks harder than they ever felt. Bringing that same numbing cold heat combo onto your neck then back down, across your navel and your hip line. He skipped over your core to press his now cold lips onto the marks he left earlier, grinning at your pleas leaving your lips quickly.

“Please Woo, ngh! Please!” you cried, holding his head to your chest while he moved your panties to the side and slid two fingers in immediately. The shock of his cooling mouth and cold fingers onto your burning skin brings a pleasant hum to your body and even heavier wetness between your legs. 

You never knew how much you liked the combination.

“Need you, baby, please ‘m tired of waiting.” Your head buzzed as you slipped further into his ministrations, alternating from begging or crying out his name to scrambling for purchase on the table when he moved his body away from yours. You had to have left a few more marks in the shape of claws along his skin.

“Want my dick that bad? Kinda like how you're begging right now,” He pressed into you harder that you choked for a moment.

Why was he teasing even more now holy fuck. “Yes let me have it!. You didn’t let me suck you off like I asked earlier.”

“I’ll let you suck me off later, I’ll blow my load if you even so much as touch it.”

You whined even harder. Maybe you wanted him to dirty up your face, he keeps taking everything away from you. It was a fun back and forth game but you were truly wanting his dick like months ago.

It was distracting enough that you just registered the sounds of how wet you truly were, body experiencing harsh pulses of pleasure from Wooyoung’s fingers and the zip of chill his mouth left before he laved his tongue onto your clit. Harsh flicks of his tongue coupled with the perfect curling of those fingers you’ve also obsessed over sent you reeling. Such a move brought you hurling over the edge to your release quicker than you expected.

“Wooyoung! Holy shit!” you shouted, voice pitched higher than you’ve ever heard it, legs trembling around him as he sucked onto your clit to help you ride that high before layering wetter kisses to the inner thighs. Your head went back with another curse, feeling your body turn into a liquid state of pleasure, unable to ride out your orgasm on his fingers. When your eyes fluttered open suddenly you took in Wooyoung's features.

“God..” he breathed, looking up at you as if you were his whole universe at this point and slowing down his fingers, “you’re so fucking perfect aren’t you baby?” In your hazy state, you keened at the compliment, body curving up slow as if it was reaching for more praise. Slowly, you rotated your hips in small circles to beg for everything he could give.

“Oh? You want me to fuck you while you are just loose and pliant for me baby?” To your little happy hum, he smiled gently. Removing his fingers he made the show of licking them clean, gently taking off your panties and giving you a soft kiss for your patience. “Lemme get a wrapper and I’ll be right back. Okay my pretty baby? Be patience.”

Slurry on your high still, you stayed spread onto the table. “Hurry... Really wan’ your dick Wooyoungie. Need it.” You could feel your eyes tearing up at your denial of feeling him in you.

He tripped in his haste with the condom already on and picking you up into his arms much to your protest. You could see how little it mattered as he held you to rut up against your folds to slick himself up, kissing away your tears with a coo of your name and how precious you were crying for his dick like you were.

Little words whispered against your ear of "I got you, princess, shh" and "Fuck if we go past this I have so much planned for us, holy hell." You wrapped your legs and arms around him tight, leaning in to suck a lobe between your lips and tug, whining yet again.

“Wooyoungie, please. Wanna feel it for days.. Nothing else but your dick please." You hiccuped over a short sob, honestly too fucking horny to care at this point. "Please Woo please I’ve waited for you this whole time plea-”

When Wooyoung finally pushed into your body after making sure the condom was on, it gave way like a greeting. Your walls fluttering and kissing his dick inch by inch like it was meant to be there; so happy that you squeezed him tight and mewled loudly.

“Yess what I’ve been waitin’ for. Wan' it deep~. Make me yours~.” he cursed and started a slow pace.

Honestly, you couldn't believe how much patience he had given the circumstances. His strength on display as he brought your hips down when he fucked up into your body with a slowness that had you singing. He was so hard inside of you, hitting all the right ways when he readjusted his grip on your sweaty body, the slight curve helping to graze your g-spot when he was being nice to you. It was hurting just a tad from the build-up to overstimulation but it felt too good to stop. Clit being abused against his stomach while you arched to throw your hips back onto him to get him to quicken the pace.

You were moaning his name and nonsense when he slid home deeper into you, praising him. Mouthing out on how you crushed on him since all those years he helped you. From when you decided to let him get closer because you wanted to be in the same playing field. 

He paused mid-thrust with a tremble and a gasp, "Is that true..?"

Blinking past the tears you nodded, feeling bare to him suddenly.

His mouth worked around its sound for a moment, so focused on you that your breath stuttered on an exhale.

"Fuck... Fuck love, you don't know how much that means to me." He said, voice pitched so low it sounded like a snarl. Though the continuous pulses of his dick inside you spoke volumes.

Slowly you ran a hand through his sex mused hair and brought him close to your face, looking into his eyes, "Then please Wooyoung… Ruin me. Show me how much it means to you."

His resounding growl made your toes curl as he moved you two a few feet to the wall, pushing you hard against it now.

"My pleasure baby." He panted, "Gonna give you what you wanted since you asked so sweetly." He sealed his promise in a kiss before pulling out slowly.

The sudden snap of his hips made the surroundings turn to colorful constellations. Everything else fading to the haze past his beautiful expressions, the feeling of you two joined together, the cries and moans of each other’s name. Mind filled to the brim of Wooyoung, trying to kiss him but both of you are just sharing each other’s air now with little nips or licks here and there.

You don’t know how long he went at it but it felt like hours that he was pounding into you. You couldn’t even moan anymore, just whimper or keen or silently scream while he cursed in between punches of your name from his lips.

You both knew you were going to bruise on your hips and ass cheeks with how his grip tightened and loosened. At a particular shake, his fingers slid and pressed hard against your asshole, almost slipping in a bit from the dripping wetness from your folds and it tumbled you into your second release; so hard that you happened to squirt against him.

The wide-eyed look Wooyoung gave you when you screamed his name had him jerking his hips twice more before he came into the condom. He cried out to you in return, full-body shaking from its intensity that he leaned to kiss all over your face softly. Staying still and bringing you back down to him with kisses and murmurs against your skin. Breathy gravel tones from how spent his voice was blanketed you back down.

"I've been crushing on you too, you know."

"So gorgeous."

"I'm lucky to have such a beautiful princess."

"Come back to me love. I'm right here."

It was a few minutes before you gave him a satisfied smile, lazy in the afterglow and bright for him. 

"Mmm, you’re the best."

He took the time to pull out and maneuver the hold on to bridal style, holding you closer to his frame as he set you back on the table with a laugh.

“I must be if I made you squirt~.”

You swung at him weakly, hiding your face from him at that and you kept it there as he moved around the room. You could hear him bump into things, mumbling to himself before he found what he was looking for and moving back to you.

“Come on my pretty baby lets get you slightly cleaned up and get out of here. We can take an actual shower and cuddle together,” he whispered softly, moving your hands out of the way with the sappiest look you’ve ever seen on his face.

Not before he took another of you posing for him to show the additional fingerprint bruises on your lower half, then immediately went to cleaning you with feather touches in case you were too sensitive with the clean rag and water bottle he found in the room. You were getting sleepy under the treatment so you allowed him to do everything; fix your hair, help you back into your dress and watch him put your undergarments into his jacket and fold it up. Making every sure you two had everything you needed.

You even watched him get himself dress sluggish and tired as you were. Something about watching him get dressed was so enticing to you. Maybe it was the way his veins in his arms and hands looked… You couldn’t wait to trace them with your tongue sometime.

When Wooyoung offered to carry you back to the cabin you agreed happily, secretly enjoying his display of strength as you guys avoided the still pretty heavy partying people further down the hall.

“I owe you a dance don’t I?” you mumbled against his neck, curled tight to his chest.

“Yea you do.”

“Damn... We’re starting off our trysts with owing each other.” he laughed into your hair, kissing a free spot on your forehead. “Alright, that’s a bet.” 

You left it at that from his questioning hum. 

You both got back to the cabin without being caught by anyone who knew you two. He held on to your clinging form as you whined about showering later, you were tired and you just wanted to cuddle up to him and sleep. So much so he relented with a playful sigh and tucked both of you into his bed. He did take a makeup wipe to remove any lingering product on your face and his,

“So I can see your cute natural morning face~” with a kiss to your giggling lips.

The both of you held each other to sleep, tangled head to toe with Wooyoung being the little spoon. You’ll deal with the irritating clothes and washing in the morning you thought. You were excited to think you’ll wake up to Wooyoung beside you finally.

“I h a t e your friends Wooyoungie, I really fucking do.” you groggily said when you woke up to your phone’s reminder buzzes and took a look at the notifications.

“Mmm, why is that?”

You happened to look down at his soft sleep puffy face laying on your thigh, pouting up at you so you blew a kiss at him before showing him the messages.

+1 [177] minglepringle So.. heard you had a grand slamming of a time last night

+1 [177] minglepringle As well as seen him carry you off like a princess being saved by her prince~ So now we don’t have to worry about not seeing you for the rest of the night

+1 [392] sanscript A lot of slamming. Seems like our “Make Wooyoung jealous plan worked”!

+1 [177] minglepringle Glad you finally got that dicking you been thirsting over~  Congratulations! +1 [177] minglepringle DON’T EXPOSE US YOU ASSA LSDKJFLSJGSDJF--

+1 [392] sanscript Don’t forget to call us next time so we can hear better~! We’re friends now your supervisor status means nothing now!! (:< Besides you completely dipped on us and we would have asked you for a threesome but Wooyoung beat us out-- +1 [177] minglepringle sAN OH MY FUCKING LORD STFU +1 [392] sanscript What they gonna do? Beat us?

Then an extra one from an unsaved number,

+1 [524] Unkown As much as I love that you two resolved your heavy sexual tension can I get a raise for having to hear your horny asses going at it like rabbits and dealing with the Minsan duo? Thanks, boss. -Seonghwa

Wooyoung laughed hard, screeching about his embarrassment at his friends and how he was going to beat their asses. He was ranting, fumbling for his phone to give him a piece of their mind but you just watched him being animated. Still a bit sleepy, the marks dark against his skin while his eyes caught the light just right to sparkle slightly. Even when he was squeaking into the phone’s receiver at Mingi, San, and Seonghwa, you couldn’t help the happiness you felt at the turn of events.

Wonder what your friends will say once you tell them everything that happened. That would be for another day, you think as you stroke Wooyoung’s face and trace the features. He doesn’t stop talking but he does look at you with a sappy smile, wiggling and making kissy faces at you.

This was something you could really get used to.

[blarrghe]

"I called you at 2am because I need you" for... is it too indulgent to ask for Dorian x Anders?

never too much! Decided on a straight sequel to the last one, so here’s modern au resident!Anders and politician!Dorian after a long shift. --

He had three hours left in his shift when he got the text from Barb. He looked suspiciously down at his phone when it buzzed. Barb’s contact was in his phone with a little butterfly next to her name, to match the tattoo on her ankle and the bright and fluttery nature of her personality. He liked Barb, but she was almost definitely asking him to cover her shift, and he debated opening the message for several minutes before doing so with a reluctant sigh. Barb was going through some things; messy divorce, two little kids to look after all on her own, the pay they made here and the stress that came with it. 

“Can’t find a sitter, can you take a shift?” read the first text, Anders was going to say yes anyway, but then two more came in, buzzing in quick succession. “unless you want to babysit? I’d give you my pay!” bright, chipper texting tone, accompanied by several hopeful looking emojis, “and brownies! 🍫” Barb did make really excellent brownies. He considered taking her up on the second offer, but he really wasn’t sure he had the energy for kids who weren’t bed-ridden or in need of medical care. He could turn on Fun Doctor Mode like a lightswitch for the kids down in pediatrics, but kids who wanted to refuse bedtime and stay up watching TV they weren’t mature enough to handle? He shook his head, half smiling over the offer of brownies, half frowning over the decision he’d made before he even opened the first message. Barb deserved to get the time with her kids, anyway. 

“I’ve got you covered.” Kissy face cat emoji, knife and fork emoji. 

“Lifesaver!!!!!” every single colour of heart.

He pencilled his name in on the clipboard for the next rotation, and began to regret the fact that he’d so quickly stuffed down the pastry Dorian had brought him earlier as he tried to remember if he had enough coins in the pockets of his coat for both a bag of pretzels from the vending machine and the bus home. He didn’t, but he’d have more luck charming the bus driver into a free ride than the vending machine into giving up its snacks, so he went to his locker and fished out the last of his bus money. 

The rest of his shift went by in a blur of activity, up and down halls as his white-soled shoes squeaked and squawked along the linoleum floors, up and down stairs that were faster than waiting for elevators, thankless pages from doctors all across the sprawling hospital, avoiding his shift supervisor in case she asked about Barb. Then Barb’s shift was much the same, for the four and a half hours after that. It was nearing two am when he finally staggered out to the bus stop, and well past it by the time he arrived home — on foot, because the bus driver had not, in fact, let him ride for free. Just what he got for putting hope into the kindness of strangers. One kind act was, apparently, the extent of his daily karma allotment. Fair enough — he could still almost taste the honey of that pastry on his lips; either an uncommonly good morsel, or he was just drastically underfed. The latter, but the pastry-giver was certainly more than he deserved.

Shit. Dorian. He’d asked him to call. Anders looked blearily at the clock on his stove as he kicked off his shoes and plodded over to the cabinet to dish out some kibble for Ser Pounce. The cold tile floor was a welcome relief on his worn out feet, though the fact that he could feel it at all was a testament to the grave state of his socks. Ser Pounce pounced down from his perch above the cabinets to give some love and a swath of shedding cat hair to Anders’ legs, then nibbled at his food while Anders opened his fridge to try to figure something out for himself. He sniffed at the milk, decided it was probably still fine, and then poured it over a heaping bowl of sugary cereal. Yeah, he’d have made a pretty shit babysitter. 

Anders took his bowl with him to his bed, flopping down on the lumpy mattress with a sigh that fully emptied his lungs, and pulled out his phone. He opened his message history and pulled up the conversation with Dorian. Not much there, but what there was made him smile. Mostly short, friendly messages. No emojis except for the one he’d stuck next to Dorian’s name in the contact page — a snake, not his first choice, but he’d embarassed himself by asking the man which one he’d like when he first scored his number, and snake was what he’d picked. Anders would have gone with the diamond, or the little tophat, or maybe the cat with hearts for eyes…

Anyway, then it had turned out that Dorian was a very formal texter. Proper punctuation and fully articulated words and all that. Anders had spent far too many minutes in their text-based conversations together fretting over how immature it would come off to use an abbreviation for laughter versus spelling out the words “haha”, or if even that was too juvenile. But he and Dorian were both all sarcastic humour and chastising bits of flirtation, and he also fretted about the tone of that without it. 

“you up?” he wrote, then hovered his thumb over the send button for thirty or so seconds before deciding that it was worth the shot. Worse came to worst, Dorian would reply with a friendly apology and an offer to chat the next morning. He was dependable like that. 

“Depends, is this a booty call?” came the almost instant reply. Alone in his room, Anders blushed. 

Blushing emoji, monkey covering his eyes emoji, sweat-smile emoji… delete, delete, delete. “No, just miss you,” DELETE, definitely delete. He tried typing some other things. “Just got in, but thinking of you…” no. “You wish lol” haha? Neither. He erased the message and began again, but then the phone screen lit up with “Dorian🐍”, buzzing as it rang. 

“The little dots were driving me mad. Did you just get in?” His voice was like honey, too. 

“Yeah, covered for Barb.” 

“Again?” 

Anders leaned back against his pillow, closing his eyes as Dorian’s concern blanketed over him. “She couldn’t find a sitter.” 

“You’re too nice for your own good.” Dorian scolded him gently through the phone, and it probably said something unhealthy about Anders that hearing Dorian admiringly call him nice made the whole last five hours of life-draining overtime and bitter walk home worth it. 

“She offered me brownies,” he shrugged the compliment off, “what can I say? I’m a sucker for chocolate.” 

“I’ll remember that.” Dorian purred, causing Anders to almost second guess his response to the idea of a booty call, exhausted or not. “So, not a booty call then?” Anders groaned inwardly, wishing it were, but no. Not unless Dorian wanted to talk to him on the phone the whole way over to keep him from falling asleep before he arrived, and even then.

“I just — uh…” he was going to say something about the book, but he hadn’t actually had time yet to look at it. His heart rate quickened with panic, he needed to find something to keep Dorian on the phone. “Thanks for the visit today.” Yes, because that warranted a phone call at three in the morning. “Sorry if I woke you…” 

“Nonsense. I’m always awake at this hour. It’s a terrible habit of mine.” Dorian did indeed sound very wakeful. Probably also very disappointed in the grogginess of Anders’ own voice. 

“Mm,” Anders muttered, his eyes closing under the warmth of Dorian’s voice through the phone again. 

“But you sound awful.” 

“Ran out of bus fare,” Anders explained, “had to walk… long day.” On a better night, Dorian might listen to his work gossip and share some rants of his own; they made quite a pair, both always seeming too short on time and too packed with stress to get out much, both always angry with their bosses — though Dorian was frustrated by beaurocracy constantly getting in the way of his efforts at world-saving, while Anders’ patients gave him fulfilment enough, it was just that his pockets were perpetually empty and all his managers were slave drivers. 

“Why don’t you have a bus pass?” Dorian sighed at him. A bus pass was a hundred bucks up front at the beginning of the month, and with payday always landing two weeks after but every other bill needing to paid right then too… but he didn’t really want to explain that particular predicament to Dorian, who had a flashy suit for every day of the week and a car that cost about as much as Anders was worth in medical school debt. “Well, you can call me next time. I’d give you a ride.” he purred on that note too, having fun with his double entendres. Anders chuckled. 

“I’ll keep you in mind,” he promised. Though the thought of begging his quasi-boyfriend for a ride at two am made him shudder. Still, not quite a lie; he always seemed to have Dorian on his mind at the end of a long shift. 

“Since I have you, dinner?” The inflection of the question was a little high. Anders crunched on a mouthful of cereal with his eyes still closed and mumbled something unintelligable. “You’re off Friday, aren’t you? Do me a favour and don’t pick up any more shifts. I have a place in mind I think you’ll like.” 

“Mm?” He thought about the kind of places Dorian would think were good spots for a dinner date, and was very glad that he couldn’t see the blue-tinted milk running down his chin. 

“It’s a surprise.” Back to low purring, that nervousness or whatever it had been apparently gone again. Anders liked the warm flirtatious tone, but the little breaks into uncertainty were what kept him coming back for more. So much in common. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Anders “mm”’d through his mouthful of cereal in the affirmative. 

“Amatus?” Even his pet names were classy. Anders would go with “love” if it weren’t so close to an unthinkable state of being, or “babe” if it weren’t for the fact that Dorian outshone that by a mile with amatus. His thoughts were all cat-with-heart-eyes emoji at the sound, and not much else.  

Anders swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Get some sleep.” 

“Mm.” Anders moved the bowl from his lap to the cluttered chair at his bedside, and leaned deeper into his pillow. “See you Friday, Dor” Dor, was that really the best he could do? 

He heard Dorian hum contentedly on the other side of the line, “looking forward to it.” he said. 

“Night, love.” Anders muttered, then very very quickly he hit end call, and shut his eyes tight. 

[agentsofsupernaturalmarvel]

Bruises and Forgotten Lunches // Joshua Bassett

IN WHICH: Tim Federle, creator of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, forgets his lunch and has his niece bring it to him. On leave/vacation from work she meets the cast at lunch and departs after. Only someone doesn’t want to not see her again.

Characters: Reader x Joshua Bassett, niece!reader x uncle!Tim Federle, Olivia Rodrigo, Larry Saperstein, and Matt Cornett

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: Possible swearing, talk about violence, injuries, kidnapping (is lightly mentioned due to reader’s job), and fluff

A/N: To fit this the minimum age to be an agent is not 23 but instead 20. Just a simple one shot that is not fully edited.

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Masterlist

Being an FBI Agent had you going on cases throughout the United States while you were working out of the field office in Salt Lake City. A recent case you spent with you team ended with you with a concussion and mandatory time off, which sucked since you were the youngest on the team. Supervisor in Chief Charlie had been adamant you not work in the field until you were medically approved to go back.

That led you to drop off your uncle’s lunch at his workplace, which was a place that was tough for you to be near. You wouldn’t have agreed to drop off the forgotten food if you had been informed that Tim’s new job had him on a set at a high school.

“Uncle Tim.” You sighed, finally finding the man sitting in a chair holding a script and pen in his hand. His green eyes meeting the ones that had followed his every move as a kid.

“Hey, Kid!” Tim grinned raising to grab you in his arms, “Your mom texted me about your free time. Are you okay?”

“I got punched in the head by a suspect.” You spoke, “fell onto the cement and woke in a hospital.”

Tim’s face fell at your words, “I had no clue it was that serious. I’m sorry I was working when that happened.”

“It’s okay.” You soothed the older man. Your parents had you when they were in their early twenties completely unplanned but wholly loved by both sides.

Uncle Tim was born after your mother by a few years and in his grade twelve year when his sister brought her long-term boyfriend home. That night involved a lot of screaming and crying when the Federle found out their college student daughter was pregnant. While your parents went through with the pregnancy, obviously, Tim often offered to babysit for free when they had to work. You had a special bond with Tim to this day, he’s like a big brother and a second dad at the same time.

“Do you want to hang around? There’s a snack table to grab food from and have lunch with me.” Tim offered barely glancing at the school, but he didn’t know why schools made you uncomfortable now.

“I’m not sure. You guys look super busy.” You started but failed when Tim shook his head at your words. He motioned to follow him to a set up of long tables under umbrellas in the warm weather, a group of people sat there.

“Guys, this is my niece Y/N. Bean this is the main cast of the show.” Tim spoke, getting the actors to wave and smile, “She was an awesome niece to drop my lunch off.”

Tim yanked you into his arms to lightly rub his knuckles on your head ever so careful with the head injury you received.

“What happened that you got a bruise on your temple?” A tan guy with vivid blue eyes questioned leaning forward in his chair. His plate had a piece of pizza left, but he focused entirely on you.

“Work hazard.”

“Do you box?” A male with bright ginger hair questioned next leading to the others at the table to listen carefully.

Tim snagged a seat to unpack his lunch while listening to you, “I haven’t heard the story either fully.”

“I can’t legally tell you!” You joked to your uncle, “You’ve been saying that since I graduated! I should better introduce myself than he did. I’m Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N with the FBI, this lovely token was given to me by an unsub in a recent investigation.”

“FBI-“

“Guys we should really introduce ourselves.” One of the younger girls spoke with a wry smile, “I’m Olivia, and these nosy nuisances are Josh, Larry, Matt, and Sofia.”

Each of the smiled in response before wanting to finish the rest of the story but were interrupted when Tim pushed half his sandwich over; the same routine since before you could remember.

“I’ve been with the FBI for about a year now and just off my probationary period. Before that, I worked as a cop for a year after graduating high school early.” You gave a vague back history and a few details, “I’ve been fortunate to not have been shot before, other than taking it to the vest which hurts a lot. This is the worst I’ve had with a concussion for someone I was pursuing. I’m on medical leave for a few days.”

“Thank you for doing what you do for us to be safe.” Josh spoke up first mesmerising you with the infectious smile that pulled up slightly more on one side. His brown eyes connecting with yours in a while that floored the group.

“I’ve wanted to serve in terms of justice since I was a kid first as a lawyer, but then my grade five year had a professional day, and a kid’s FBI parent talked to us. That was the reason I decided to join the Academy.” You supplied smiling at the boy, “I’m the youngest on my team.”

“Bean graduated high school at sixteen and went straight into University in that same fall. By nineteen, she was training to be a cop and then raised to successfully join a career that terrifies everyone in the family.”

“Why play an FBI Agent when I could be one in real life?” You playfully winked at your uncle gaining only a chuckle in response, “Well you guys are probably about to start, and I really have to get going. I may be on medical leave, but I have paperwork to do.”

That being said, you left the group to their own devices to call a cab, you weren’t allowed to drive with the concussion. You were surprised when someone called you name and went to tap your shoulder; their hand was yanked and pulled until he was kneeling with his arm held against his back.

“Okay, yup really shouldn’t have tapped an agent’s shoulder.” He coughed relaxing when he’s arm was released from the uncomfortable position, “I’m sorry about that.”

“What can I do for you, Josh?” You questioned the actor with one raised eyebrow that pulled the fading bruise.

“I was wondering if I could have your number?” Josh bashfully questioned struggling to keep eye contact when his cheeks were turning a light pink. You had a feeling he didn’t do this often.

“Just so happens I’m not your assigned FBI agent.” You joked chuckling when his eyes widened, “I’m kidding. We don’t do surveillance on a person for no reason.”

“Oh.” Josh sighed, nodding his head as he tentatively held out his phone for you, “Good to know.”

You chuckled putting your name in for him and sending a swift message to you, so you had his number too. The boy beamed when you got into the cab and practically swayed in the language of love when he closed your door.

Over One Year Later

It was a tough case involving a teenage girl kidnapped with details that made you feel sick with the people that sadly populated the world. You were glad to be home after the week in Montana in your little apartment. Your shoulders were slouched as you shut and locked the door.

“Hey.”

You simply smiled and walked straight into his open arms that you severely needed after the long week. Josh and you had been dating over a little over a year, you officially started dating a month after meeting and constant talking.

“Hi.” You mumbled into his shoulder, leaning back to sniff the air, “Did you make food?”

“Yeah, I tried this new recipe your Mom sent, and I did a good job.” Josh spoke, leaning cheek on your head, “I’m sorry you had a tough week.”

“There was a young girl.” Your voice broke, “We saved her, but Josh, she’s gonna need support after what happened.”

Josh hugged you closer swaying at he did so and the way you loved.

As an FBI Agent, you worked out of the Utah field office in Salt Lake City and served Utah. Along with Utah, you served Idaho, Yellowstone National Park and the recent state you were in Montana. Josh filmed High School Musical: The Musical: The Series for most of the year and lived the other part in California. To save money and with your long hour jobs, he moved in for the filming months.

“Just think in a few weeks we’ll be in Oceanside with our family.” Josh mumbled in your ear, bringing a bright smile to your face.

Your love story was more fast-paced than what was typically expected, but with almost two years together, you both knew. Six months ago, Josh proposed with a heartfelt speech and plan which got your acceptance. Planning a wedding while working full time and with his filming schedule was hard, but you did it.

“I can’t wait to be your wife.” You mumbled leaning back to kiss him.

You never anticipated being married at twenty-two and Josh as twenty-one. Still, it was happening, and you were so excited.

“We still need to talk about if you are going to request a transfer to LA.” Josh spoke, leading you through the apartment to the bedroom. He waited as you placed your gun in your lockbox and changed out of your work clothes into a pair of sweaters and a shirt.

“It depends on where it would work for you.” You spoke smiling as he clasped your hand in his, immediately his thumb ran across your engagement ring. It was a habit he picked up, and you simply adored it.

“Filming for High School Musical is four months out of the year and then promo varying on the amount.” Josh thought it over you both grabbed the dishes to set at the moderately sized table, “Would you be happy?”

“I’m happy wherever you are.” You cheesed at the blushing guy across from you as you both served the meal he made, “We can keep the apartment for when you are here filming too.”

“Good idea.” Josh spoke, “Look at us, adulting.”

“About as adult as you can get when we had a Disney dance party last week.” You joked leaning over the table to share one last kiss before you tabled the talk of the wedding and life beyond to just be with each other at the moment.

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[tolkien-in-beleriand]

I don’t know if you been following what is happening here in Brazil but it’s pretty awful. our ‘president’ don’t care at all that people are dying and keeps saying this is not a big deal while our number of dead rises every day. it’s so much shit all the time that I would spend the rest of my life telling you all about it. now the new one is: people who really need the stimulus money aren’t getting anything but somehow the military is getting that money??? I’m not saying they are getting money, they are getting the R$ 600,00 that was supposed to go to people who has nothing. until now I didn’t see any money and things are pretty bad while the military who gets paid millions (only God knows why since we don’t even go to war or anything) every year is getting OUR 600 reais (and just so you know this is less than $100 so yeah that’s how our government care about the people). this month we didn’t get the food stamps either so we are in a bad bad place. we don’t have food for ourselves or the cats and Mer is sick.

for the new people around who doesn’t know already I am unable to work since last year because of several mental disorders (and now also physical ones because why not) and I’m living by the good grace of my friend, who now is in a very bad place as well since his contract won’t be renewed because of Covid-19. I’m doing what I can to help (like revising texts and publishing stuff) but I don’t get much and now I have to count on your help one more time and I am very sorry for that.

my PhD supervisor suggested that I publish my PhD thesis and if that happens it might help a bit but the publishers are not accepting anything right now because of covid-19. so I don’t have many options. the soaps I used to make and sell also can’t be done because the store where I buy materials is closed (also I can’t afford).

here is my Patreon page. if you can please please please help me out over there. I am now working on chapter 2 of the book (will publish there probably tomorrow) and also translating some essays on Tolkien, Harry Potter and Fantasy Literature (will publish there probably next week). seriously, anything you can pledge, even $1 helps because that in brazilian money is almost 7 reais so YES IT REALLY DOES HELP.

if you don’t want to commit or even read what I have to offer (which is very understandable) but feel you can help with a donation (again, ANYTHING HELPS) my email on PayPal is: miraneblack@yahoo.com.br

I am truly sorry for asking for help again but I’m honestly very desperate right now. I don’t mind not having food, we can get some from Fer’s mum but I need to buy my meds (which I really need, otherwise I would let go) and my cats need food and medicine and my heart breaks seeing they need stuff and I can’t help.

thank you for reading all this and if you could reblog I would really appreciate. again, I am sorry and thank you for everything.

[n-ctarinenga]

Be Home Soon [ calum hood ]

w.a.h series | pt.1 | word count: 3,912 | masterlist

Sometimes, when you let your mind wander, you would come back to a thought that encompasses every other question you'd asked yourself in the last few years. 

Where would you be now, if yours and Calum's lives hadn't merged when they did?

You admittedly hadn't had the best of weeks upon the day you had met Calum in Los Angeles. Being a graphic designer from the same side of the world as him though, it was easy to find a mutual connection. 

Before sitting down in a waiting room at Interscope records, your week had been filled with paperwork. Paperwork that basically piled around your ankles as you waded through all the necessary documents to confirm your new life away from where you'd always known as home, New Zealand. 

Not only was the stress of the move on your shoulders, but the stress of your new job was too. It almost didn't matter that you had gotten your bachelors degree, because nothing could prepare you for the first day on your dream job. 

It was this first day on the job that you had met Calum, being sent to the same waiting room as him while you waited on your supervisor and he waited on his band mates, him being the first to arrive. 

You'd recognized him instantly, and heard your boss in your head telling you not to get starstruck in front of the clients. Seeing it as your first major test, you let your shoulders relax, sitting down on one of the couches opposite him and setting your bag down by your feet.

"Morning." You smiled politely, looking over to him as you noticed him glance up at you from his phone.

He stalled for a second as he looked at you, just long enough for you to notice before he spoke. 

"Morning." He replied, a small smile on his face as he nods in your direction. 

Feeling like you handled the interaction well, you gave yourself a pat on the back mentally, opening twitter to catch up on whatever you'd missed overnight and this morning. As you scroll though, a text notification comes up on your screen, letting you know that your supervisor is running late in a meeting, and will take a little longer than expected.

You let out a soft sigh before you stop scrolling, letting your phone rest on the couch beside you and pulling out your smallest sketchbook while you wait. 

"Hey," the man from across the room asks, catching your attention and making you look up from your pencil case, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but is that your dog on your phone case?" 

You hadn't prepared yourself to actually converse with someone yet this morning, but you could feel your face light up as you flip your phone over beside you, showing off the picture of your most favorite dog in the universe. 

"It is, yeah. Her name is Ayla. Normally I have flowers in my case but I had to take them out when I was coming over here and the first idea I had to replace it with was my favorite girl." You laugh lightly, handing your phone over to him so he could see the sweet neo mastiff on the back of it. 

His face breaks out in a grin as he looks at the Polaroid in the back of your clear phone case, and you do your best to ignore the flutter in your heart at the sight in front of you, his bright grin helping clear the clouds that had been covering your week. 

"She's adorable. My boy Duke is probably about the size of her head." He laughs, handing you your phone back, "If you don't mind me asking, where is your accent from?" 

You're surprised with his question, mostly because you didn't expect to be having a conversation with him, but also because you were sure your accent wasn't that pronounced. 

"It's from New Zealand. Born and raised." You smile proudly, and this time, it's his face that lights up. 

"Can't believe we're practically neighbours, though I thought you sounded familiar." He admits, leaning back in his seat while you smile with a raised eyebrow. 

"Well, they do always say aussies and kiwis can find each other anywhere." 

He nods in agreement, and from there, it doesn't take you both long to start talking about your home towns, sharing your experiences about childhood snacks under slightly different names, the shows you'd both end up getting months after they had already screened in the US, and of course the numerous sports rivalries between your countries. 

The ease in which he made you laugh felt different than your normal interaction with strangers, and as you shook your head, telling him about the extreme culture shock you felt walking into a supermarket to get your first load of food after moving, he could feel a wave of calm and familiarity coming from you that made him feel nearly instantly comfortable in your presence. 

The conversation flowed easily, and as you saw your supervisor approaching while in the middle of talking about how long of a flight it is between Austrliasia and America, you felt kinda disappointed you'd be leaving your new buddy. 

Once your supervisor collected you, you said your goodbyes to Calum, walking off towards the office space you could now call your own. 

As you walked off with your supervisor, Calum's eyes followed you, taking a moment to catch a breath he didn't realize he'd lost. 

You'd been talking for easily less than thirty minutes, but there was something about you that made Calum wish you would walk back around the corner again to tell him more about your life. 

He kicked himself for not getting your number, only knowing your first name and that you're a graphic designer, but nothing that would help him contact you again. 

The only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts was Ashton walking into the room, crashing down onto the couch beside him.

Little did he know, but you were feeling exactly the same as you sat down in your small office space, cursing yourself for not having the guts to ask him for his number, not wanting to seem like you wanted something from him.

There was a part of you that wanted to run back out to the waiting room, the hopeful side of you thinking there was a chance he'd still be there. 

Something about leaving him back in that room didn't sit right with you, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you stood up from your desk, walking back through the hallways to the waiting room. 

As you reached the entrance, someone else did too, and you bumped into someone solid that sent you wobbling back a few steps, the person reaching out to steady you. 

Looking up from where you had been watching your own determined steps, your eyes widen as Calum stands in front of you, hands on your upper arms to steady you, shock crossing his face before a string of apologies fall from each of your mouths. 

"Oh my god I'm so sorry-" 

"I'm so sorry are you okay-" 

Cutting each other off, you laugh lightly nodding at his question after a second. 

"I'm fine, really. I was actually coming back here to see you so I'd say this worked out." You laugh, scratching the back of your neck nervously as he lets his hands drop to his sides. 

"Really?" He asks, a small smile on his face. 

"Yeah, I uh," you shrug slightly, "I would really like to hear more of your stories. Honestly, you're really interesting to me, and you haven't shown me your dog even though I showed you mine so I think you owe me." You joke, and feel your heart back flip as he bursts with laugher. 

A wide grin covers his face as he nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it before handing it to you. 

"You have a good point, and I'm glad you find me even half as interesting as I find you." He comments, looking down at your phone that you'd swapped him but still managing to make you blush as he typed his number in. 

Taking a quick selfie to set as a contact icon, you save your number under "waiting room kiwi" before handing him his phone back.

The connection you felt that day did anything but sizzle out, evident by what happened after your phone first buzzed with a text from him later on that night. 

With two years passing since you met, you and Calum had experience with distance from each other, being in a relationship since your chaotic first date that lasted a lot longer than anticipated, after a lost wallet sent you on a wild goose chase, knowing from that day on that you were both very much meant to be in each others lives. 

Whenever you could, you would make the journeys necessary to be with each other. It was hard sometimes, fighting off the thoughts that the distance would affect your relationship negatively, but you did your best to remind yourself, and to remind Calum, that even when things were hard, you would always have a home in the other's arms when you could finally hold each other again. 

With you basically living with each other while Calum was home recording Calm, it felt like you'd actually had a moment to breathe and just exist around, and with one another. 

But then the pandemic hit, and everything shifted from slow motion into fast forward. With only two days to decide if you would be staying in California or going back to your families, you spent more than half of those 48 hours with tears in your eyes as you did your best to help each other pack what you could of your lives into suitcases, not knowing when you could come back. 

It was the hardest decision you had ever made together, the decision to be away from each other for God knows how long. 

Calum gripped your hand with a tight grasp nearly the entire 23 hour flight from California to Auckland, almost like he was trying to commit the feeling of your hand in his to his deepest, most permanent memories. 

With a last "I love you" between tear flavoured kisses, your heart ached as you watched Calum's flight leaving you in Auckland while he traveled on to Sydney, and even the arms of your parents and siblings couldn't stop the aching in your heart you as you felt the distance between you and the man you love grow every second. 

You sat between your older brother and sister on the way home, not far out of the city you'd only been back to a few times since moving to the States. 

Calum spent a large percentage of time on his flight to Sydney with his eyes closed or cast down to his phone, flipping through pictures of your lives together before things became so uncertain and unpredictable. He knew it would make him feel worse in the long run, but with no end in sight to whatever you could even call his current situation, all he cared about was the fact he just had to say goodbye to the woman he loves. 

Upon landing and seeing his big sister waiting for him from her own flight home a day earlier, Calum basically crumbled into her arms, searching for any ounce of comfort he could before they made their way back to their home. 

You and Calum loved your families, and wanted to protect them and be there for them, no matter how much pain you caused yourselves.

Being at your childhood home for only hours before lock down took effect felt like the most absolutely wild fever dream your mind could come up with, but as you gathered around the TV every 1pm, the reality of it all started to sink in. 

Though the first few days of being separated, you and Calum had a hard time finding space between family bonding sessions to phone each other in any capacity. You would spend hours together on facetime in the middle of the night instead, you watching him noodling with songs from the new album just around the corner, or him watching you reorganize a room you hadn't had the chance to since your teens before one of you would inevitably pass out. 

With time blurring together the days quicker and quicker, the only thing that reminded you what day it was, was how many days since or how many days til it was Great British Bake Off night. 

One night, the feelings of the world hit you harder than the others. 

The shine of being home had quickly worn off, and sleeping became harder and harder without your boyfriend beside you like you had been used to the last few months.

With your exhaustion and situation hitting you all at once, you could barely breathe as tears ran down your face as you sat at the end of your childhood bed on the phone to Calum, doing your best to hide your current state from him as you covered the speaker with your hand. 

"-and I just can't get zoom to work at all. I 'ave no idea how kids are meant to be using this for school when I can't even get it goin' to call my mate a dickhead." Calum complains, his example making you laugh, which is soon followed by an all too telling hiccup. 

Hearing that small sound barely picked up by your phone made Calum freeze, tense energy immediately flowing through him. 

"It's cause your WiFi is shit, babe." You laugh, but are confused with the silence you're met with on the other end.

"Babe?" You question. 

Calum lets out a sigh, your quietness over the last ten minutes of your call making sense to him as things started to click. 

You would only ever hiccup on two occasions, one, when you were close to blackout drunk, and two, when you had been crying. 

"Darlin', you don't wanna be hearing me complain about technical issues, do you?" He asks, his heart aching as your following silence told him all he needed to know. 

"I'm just happy to hear your voice, actually." You say in a soft voice, a fresh wave of tears falling down your cheeks. 

Calum had to blink away his own tears at your words, inhaling as deep a breath as he could. 

"This is fucking horrible." He comments, and you scoff lightly, nodding even though he can't see. 

"You've got that right." You agree as you look down to the rug under you, faded from years in the sun that was nowhere to be seen as autumn's clouds quickly turned into winter rain. "I don't think I've ever missed someone so much in my life." 

"Next time we're in a pandemic, we're going to Michael's." Calum adds, trying and succeeding in making you smile. 

"On the way out I'll grab Moose and South, then we'll just have to steal Petunia to get the A team together." You laugh. 

Calum takes a moment to drink in the sound of your laughter, knowing it had been few and far between these days, yet it still sounded like music to his ears just like the first time he'd heard it. 

As your shared laughter dies down, you can hear Calum take a deep breath before he talks again. 

"I didn't know I could be homesick for a person." 

And with that, your heart breaks even more than it already has been. 

You stay on the phone to him for a while longer before your mum calls you for dinner, leaving him with a promise of a text later on in the night. 

You join your family after cleaning up your face, but take it you didn't do the best job as your brother and sister offer to do the dishes while you go back up to your room, telling you you'd looked too tired for it tonight, and hell, they weren't wrong. 

Crashing down onto your bed, an idea flashed through your head as you stared at the ceiling above you. 

While you'd never been one to really verbalize your feelings and emotions, you were the kind of person who knew how to get their emotions down onto paper, or in this case, into the text box to your boyfriend's number. 

Hey sweetheart. Honestly, I swear sometimes you know me better than I know myself. You were right, as normal, things have been harder than I've been letting on. But because I know you and how that head of yours works, I didn't want to fill your mind with worry when so much is going on around us already. There's a large part of me that wishes we weren't as self sacrificing as we are, even though it's obvious to anyone that we're always the ones choosing the ones we love over ourselves. Things are way too scary for me to think about for too long and I hope you're doing better at distracting yourself from thinking about it than I am right now. I'm not as good with words as you are, love, but I feel like if this time apart shows me anything, it's that you're the best thing I've ever had the honour to hold, and god I'm dying to hold you again and never let you go. I could say I miss you and I love you in a million different metaphors and references, but sometimes simplicity is best, and I miss you, and I love you, so so fucking much. I'm more homesick now than I have ever been in my life. Not for LA, not for here, not for anywhere in the world, apart from the space beside you. You have my heart darlin, and you are my home. Good luck with your game of monopoly against Mali, though I gotta be honest I'm backing her on this one. Goodnight, I love you, and I'll see you (onscreen) tomorrow, honeybee. 

Upon hitting send and rolling over as you close your eyes in hope for some resemblance of a full night's sleep, you couldn't have even imagined the pounding Calum felt in his chest after reading your message three times over before finally looking away. 

Walking into her brother's room, a sad and understanding smile appears on Mali's face as Calum's attention pans to her. 

"Rain check on the game?" She asks. 

"Yeah, thanks." Calum clears his throat. 

Questioning her movements for a moment, Mali moves forward into the room, sitting down beside Calum and wrapping her arm around his shoulders. It wasn't hard for her to see how much this was affecting him, both of them being as close as they are, and Mali wished she could fly you over herself to ease the heartache you were both going through right now. 

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me next time I can see her again." He says, a finality and certainty to his words. 

He was entirely serious, too. After this was over, Calum never wanted to let you go again, not like this. He was well aware of all the things he'd been lucky enough to do in his life, but you by far were the person who convinced him just how lucky he is. 

You had his heart, and he had yours.

Mali just smiled as she comforted her little brother, knowing this was going to come from the first day you spent in the Hood family home when you joined them for Christmas two years prior. The ease at which you fit into his family was like you were meant to be there all along, and the looks shared between Mali and Joy during that period of time showed they were both very aware of that. 

After promising to shift their game forward a Day, Calum is left on his own again. 

Laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he doesn't quite know how to reply to the text message still sitting open on his phone. 

He couldn't hug you through text, and knew no other way to comfort you like he wanted to, apart from the one thing that always made your heart beat at a different pace, apart from him, which was something he was capable of: music. 

Picking up his acoustic guitar from the otherside of the room, Calum sits down behind his desk, phone propped up against his computer screen as he opens the camera. 

Looking up to the ceiling, he takes a deep breath, collecting himself before he starts. 

Gaze falling down to his hands again, he starts to slowly pick out the chords to the first song that came to his mind, the perfect song for you. 

Upon playing out the final chords, Calum can feel the tears rolling down his face falling onto his shirt, wiping them away with the back of his hand that feels nothing like the soft touch of your fingers before throwing on a hoodie and walking downstairs to sit with his family, deciding against the solitude he knew would swallow him completely if he didn't do something about it. 

Somewhere deep inside, something's got a hold on you. 

And it's pushing me aside, see it stretch on forever. 

I know I'm right, for the first time in my life. 

That's why I tell you, 

you'd better be home soon. 

The crisp air of a morning soaked in an approaching winter wakes you earlier in the day than you would have hoped. 

Fairy lights strung around your room still shined from last night, hung by your brother upon being bribed to help you earlier in the week, you not being bothered to turn them off before falling asleep. 

You couldn't say you slept well, but you were grateful for anything at this point. 

Rolling over, you pick your phone up from your bedside table, scrolling through a few notifications before landing on the text messages sent to you from your friends during the night, the good morning texts sent to you at two am reminding you of the time difference you were struggling with.

Your heart leaps as you see a message from Calum, remembering your own message from last night and the word vomit it contained. 

You tilt your head in surprise as you sit up in bed, seeing a simple text saying "I love you too" sitting under your text to him, a video sitting under the message causing your interest to be pique. 

Hitting play on the short video, your heart drops to your stomach and tears well in your eyes, the tune instantly recognisable.

After all, you had both been hearing it all your lives. 

Tears flood down your face as you play the video over and over again, shaking your head as you wipe away your tears on your hoodie. 

"Little shit." You laugh through your tears, knowing he would know exactly the effect the video would have on you. 

Hand covering your mouth to soften the sound of your sobs, you lay back down again, curled into a ball in the middle of your bed as you feel the weight of thousands of miles press down on your chest. 

taglist:  @spicycal @softbabiestan @irwinkitten @mrandleer @smalla-than-a-bugg @candidcal @lukeskisses @wallflowercal @brooklynsninenine​ @whereveryouares

[realtacuardach]

On Fire

I’m late, but here’s my first entry for Obiyuki AU Bingo - Firefighter AU!

...

It went without saying that she had not intended for any of this to happen.

After all, she was one of the most precise researchers in the botany lab, at least according to Ryuu, second only to himself and their director. Even when surrounded by a multitude of tiny boxes, each sprouting almost identical leaves, she had an uncanny ability to notice any changes and how to address them with little delay. Shirayuki was collected, her mind focused like a fine lens on every discrepancy and task set ahead of her. Of all the descriptions, complimentary or not, ascribed to her over the years by coworkers, colleagues, and occasionally jealous competitors, “absent-minded” had never been one of them.

That all changed when she walked through her front door.

That fateful Friday afternoon was no different. Shirayuki swept up the staircase to her apartment, nodding politely but perfunctorily to the neighbors she passed before she let herself inside. Muscle memory helped her hand her coat on the hook and sling her keys onto the rack with barely a glance in their direction. From the moment she entered the room, Shirayuki’s gaze had focused like a beacon on the cluster of leaves in small boxes near her window. In her haste, she nearly tripped over the stack of junk mail from where it had spilled onto the floor from a stool by the door. Undeterred, she slipped and stumbled her way to the table.

She rolled up her sleeves, flexed her fingers in anticipation of the soil that would soon be crumbling beneath them (because in the lab she would follow all the necessary protocols, but there was nothing like the feeling of earth between your fingers) when her phone chimed. And again. And again.

Shirayuki let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her phone towards her. There were several texts from Yuzuri.

Don’t forget to try the food I sent with you.

You promised you’d tell me if you like it.

Besides you need to eat something - I know you’ve been forgetting to shop.

You’re going to waste away.

Only her love for her friend kept the botanist from throwing her phone out the window as she stood up to dutifully grab the covered dish from the freezer and pop it in the oven. I’m putting it in now, she replied, Thanks, Yuzuri.

The response was immediate. Don’t forget to turn it on. 350 degrees. <3

Of course I turned it on! Shirayuki responded, before hastily spinning the oven dial accordingly.

Then, feeling accomplished, she sat down and set herself to her work.

Not noticing the text stating to take out the dish in twenty minutes.

Not noticing the clock move far past twenty minutes.

Not noticing the dark smoke struggling past the oven door.

Not noticing the sound of the smoke detector, which was on its last legs and drowned out by the sounds of the city outside.

The sirens outside her window, however, she did notice.

…

She was leaning out the window, wondering where the fire was, when she heard the pounding on the door. “Anyone in there?” a muffled voice called out.

“Yes?” she responded.

The pounding intensified at that, and just as she was halfway to the door, it burst open and a stream of firefighters entered. The tallest of them quickly came over to her, checked for any signs of distress, and then went over to the window, where she could now see dark smoke spilling out into the darkening sky. The only woman in the squad, who looked the most intimidating even though she was the smallest, walked to the oven and turned it off. Meanwhile the last firefighter, who walked with a step of natural authority, stood in the doorway as he surveyed the entire scene. “All right there, Mitsuhide?”

The man at the window turned and nodded. “No smoke from anywhere but the stove, Zen.”

“All right, Kiki?”

The woman stood up from where she was bent over the stove, pulling out the smoking casserole and putting it on the stovetop. Even through the helmet, Shirayuki could see her face as her eyes swept from the stovetop to Shirayuki, before one eyebrow arched elegantly in silent question. Shirayuki flushed. “All clear - it was just the food, the stove seems fine.”

“Good.” The captain pulled off his helmet and brushed a hand up his forehead through his hair, striking a casual but impressive pose. “And Obi -” he froze, before breaking his pose. “Obi?!”

A final final fireman stuck his head through the window from outside, causing Shirayuki to startle and Mitsuhide to stumble backwards, sputtering. “You rang, boss?”

Mitsuhide continued to sputter. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the perimeter for structural integrity, Sir!” Obi replied, in a tone that sounded like he was directly parroting someone. He saluted as he did so, which was impressive given that he was still outside and also hanging upside down.

The taller man didn’t clap a hand to his eyes, but his expression looked like it was with an effort. “That’s now what I -”

The captain cut into an apparently old lecture. “Obi, get in here.”

“Right.” And Obi swung smoothly into the room through the window, landing right in front of Shirayuki. The blush on her face intensified as he unfurled himself in front of her, lean and olive-skinned and golden-eyed.

She struggled to breathe for a moment, which caused Mitsuhide to sweep in once again to check her vitals. Obi shot her a grin that did not help. “No damage outside, boss.”

“Looks like all the damage is in the food, Zen,” Kiki said dryly, causing Shirayuki to cringe.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Zen replied, smiling. “Just be more careful - it’s a good call when no one is hurt.”

Obi loped past the others towards the stove. He pulled off a glove and drew a finger across the top of the casserole, cracking past the charred crust to the sauces below. Amid the looks of exasperation, dismay, and mild amusement from his colleagues, he popped a fragment into his mouth and smacked his lips appreciatively. “I don’t know, Princess Kiki,” he remarked to the woman firefighter, who merely raised her other eyebrow in response. “I wouldn’t say it’s damaged. Really crunchy, but it’s got a smoky flavor.”

He winked in Shirayuki’s direction, and the blush grew despite her best efforts.

“Hilarious,” Kiki said dryly.

“Since all’s well,” Mitsuhide began, “we’d better head back to the station.”

Zen nodded. “Right.” He sent a dazzling grin to Shirayuki. “Always have to be ready for the next call.”

“Of course!” Shirayuki replied, “I’m so sorry to be causing you trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” he assured her, “Just be more careful next time.”

“Oh, I promise,” Shirayuki stuttered, “there won’t be a next time.”

And she was right, she never burned a casserole again.

The next time she saw the firefighters, it was the soup.

…

There was something about Fridays, Shirayuki mused as she watched the bustle of the fire squad tending to the smoldering remains of her soup pot. Maybe it was because she was on her own time instead of the lab’s time. Maybe it was because the looming freedom of the weekend was distracting. Or maybe it was because she didn’t have anyone watching over her shoulder to keep her from accidentally burning down a building. But she had cooked perfectly safely all throughout the week since the previous Friday, so how - 

“Don’t sweat it, Miss.” Shirayuki looked up to see Obi shucking off his helmet and smiling at her reassuringly. He swiped an arm across his forehead and the sweat gleamed against his skin and spiked hair. She had to swallow past the feelings other than mortification building up i her gut. “We get called in for kitchen fires all the time.”

She spiked a hand on her hip and sighed. “But it’s embarrassing - I just let my mind slip…” She huffed in self-disgust.

“It does look interesting, though,” he replied, nodding toward the plants, “what you’re working on. What are all those?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Those are some specimens I brought home from work. My supervisor was going to throw them out, but I thought I might try some different techniques to get them to grow.”

“I noticed the coat,” Obi said, “I wondered if you were a doctor, dentist, or scientist.”

“I thought about being a doctor,” she admitted, “but I preferred working with plants. I’m a botanist.” She shuddered. “I could never be a dentist - I was always afraid of going to them, even though mine were very nice.”

“That’s a relief, “Obi grinned, as he dug into his pack.

“Why?”

“Because I really needed a sugar boost,” he replied, as he opened the packaging of the chocolate bar he had pulled out of his pack and popped a square into his mouth. “And I was worried I might get two lectures.”

“Two?”

“Obi!” Mitsuhide barked from across the room. “This is no time for a snack! And physicals are next week!”

“C’mon,” Obi shot back, “it’s just a quick snack. And besides,” he yanked the heavy fire-proof coat and shirt up, exposing his abdomen, “does this look out of shape to you?”

Zen slapped a hand to his face, Mitshide sputtered, Shirayuki squeaked as she stared, and Kiki simply rolled her eyes.

“Smooth,” she snarked, and Shirayuki couldn’t be sure but it felt her eyes swept between herself and Obi before setting on Obi.

“Let’s go,” Zen groaned, “are you going to be all right, ma’am?”

Shirayuki nodded vigorously, trying to focus. “Yes, thank you. I’m sorry!”

“All part of the job, Miss,” Obi winked.

“Be careful, “Kiki added and raised a hand in farewell, steering Obi outside with her.”

“Of course,” Shirayuki called as she waved them out. “It won’t happen again.”

…

The third time was all Obi’s fault.

Okay, that wasn’t fair, Shirayuki reprimanded herself, as she watched the two trays of scorched and charred chocolate chip cookies being issued outside as Mitsuhide fanned the smoke outside the open window. She had been making the cookies for everyone at the fire department as an apology and a thank you. And if she would only barely admit to herself that she was thinking of Obi’s blissful expression as he savored the chocolate the Friday before when picking the recipe, no one else had to know.

And it was her own fault that they burned.

“I was paying attention this time,” she moaned plaintively.

Obi gave her a smile that was at once amused and sympathetic. “That so, Miss?”

“I did!” She insisted, and then brushed a lock of hair sheepishly back as she continued. “At first.”

Kiki arched a brow from where she was standing up from closing the stove. “At first?”

“But then I noticed that the boxes closest to the window had started flowering,” she admitted, “and I went to examine them, and by the time I remembered - “

“I see.”

“They are flowering nice, though,” Obi countered, and Shirayuki felt warm all over.

“Even so,” Kiki said, looking over to where Zen and Mitsuhide were returning from disposing of the last charred bits of Shirayuki’s dignity, “maybe you’d better hold off on backing for a while. Until the oven is checked out.”

The oven was fine. Shirayuki had already had it checked by the rueful landlord.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kiki cracked a smirk. “Don’t need to ma’am me, we’re becoming familiar with each other now.”

“Ugh.” Shirayuki buried her face in her hands.

Kiki patted her on the shoulder reassuringly.

“And I can think of worse places to be on a Friday night.” Kiki and Shirayuki both turned to look at Obi, who suddenly looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.

Kiki snorted. “Subtle.” And before Shirayuki could ask what she meant by that, she began issuing Obi out the door again. “Goodbye, Shirayuki. Take care.”

“Until we meet again!” Obi called back, sounding less nervous than before but still not his typical casual self.

“Don’t worry,” she replied, “there won’t be a next time!” She felt oddly bereft as she said that. But she was swearing off the stove and sticking to the microwave from now on.

Even if it would be nice to see-

No, it wasn’t worth risking arson. No more stove, ever again.

…

Shirayuki was debating between a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or one of the meals that Suzu had sent home - that she swore could be microwaved - for dinner the following Friday. Admittedly, it had been hard to hear Suzu’s solemn promise because she was laughing too hard as she said it, but Suzu insisted it was safe. Both the sandwich and meal sounded equally appetizing, and she was about to flip a coin when she heard a firm knock at the door.

Is this how criminals feel? She wondered, as her gaze flitted instinctively to the oven and stovetop to see that they were indeed switched off and ice-cold.

“Miss?” A voice called from outside. “It’s Obi - from the fire department.”

Her heart flew up into her throat even as she checked the room for smoke.

“Coming!” She smoothed back her hair and brushed down her lab coat before opening the door.

Obi stood in the doorway, looking far too good in civilian clothing. She knew he had to be in good shape (heck, she’d seen his abs), but the firefighter uniform had been concealing all the lean muscle that was outlined quite nicely in the polo shirt and jeans that he was wearing. Her cheeks began to burn, and she fought the urge to check for fire again. “How’s it going, Miss?”

“I’m well,” she smiled. “Keeping away from the oven, as you can see. What brings you here, did you leave something behind?”

Obi shook his head. “No. I’m just here as part of our new community preventative program.”

“Community preventative program?” Shirayuki hadn’t heard anything about that - not that she’d been reading all she could find about the fire department recently. Really.

“Stopping the fires before they start.” Obi cleared his throat. “So I was here to see if you wanted to go out to dinner.”

“Out to dinner?”

“Totally up to you!” He assured, holding up one hand. “It’s just - it’s about that time and… I thought you might be getting hungry - science can build up an appetite.”

Shirayuki grinned, feeling the heat from her cheeks seep pleasantly down to her chest. “Is everyone from the department on the program, or just you?”

He grinned back. “Well, this may not be departmentally sanctioned.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “To be honest, I’m going rogue here.”

And if that didn’t just send a fine shiver across her skin. “A rogue, huh?”

Obi looked like he was considering backtracking, so she grabbed his arm to stop him. “I do like a bit of danger, myself.”

[digimonnetwork-project]

Episode I

The seeds are sown...

“Shidou...Shidou....Isamu Shidou pay attention!” There was a dull thud as Isamu was thrown out of his thoughts by the sudden acquaintance of his head and the teacher’s book. At his old school, the boy in question would never have gotten in trouble for daydreaming in class, let alone assaulted for it.

“Gah! I’m sorry, Ms. Mazawa! It won’t happen again!” Isamu exclaimed, bolting from his chair and bowing repeatedly while he rubbed the back of his skull, certain a bump would develop where he’d been struck with the teacher’s book. He pictured something large and swelling, hopefully enough to get him out of math next period, but would go down before soccer practice after school.

“Honestly!” She huffed, twirling her graying hair in exasperation, “Shidou, this is the third time this week. You know I hate doing this, but if you can’t be bothered to pay attention to the lesson I’m going to have to keep you after school.”

Aside from the streaks of grey in her hair, Ms. Mazawa didn’t look more than a few years passed thirty, but her barbaric teaching methods made her seem centuries older. Isamu suspected she might be one of the old monsters of folklore, maybe Arikura-no-baba or Osakabe, but Isamu really didn’t care enough to try to research which one she could be.

“Yeah right you don’t like doing it, you keep kids after school all the time.” A chill ran up Isamu’s spine as Ms Mazawa’s irritated scowl deepened into a glare, making him overly aware of the fact that he had said this out loud instead of keeping it in his head.

She swatted him upside the head with her book a second time. “Shidou, I was just going to keep you in class for thirty minutes to reread today’s lesson, but your smart mouth just earned you a detention spent setting up the cafeteria for the archery club’s fundraiser tonight!” She declared.

“Y-yes ma’am!” Isamu stuttered, getting a giggle out of his classmates, “I’m sorry ma’am!”

“I hope you are.” Ms. Mazawa replied and turned to go back to the front of the class.

Isamu sighed and returned to his seat, brushing brown bangs out of his face and looking at his desk. At his old school, his classmates would have been laughing with him, not at him, he thought reminiscing, again, about his former life. The bangs he just moved fell right back into his eyes. He really needed to find something to keep his hair in place.

“Psst! Isamu!” He turned around at the sound of his name and saw his classmate Masato Namura give him a thumbs up. Beside him, Aki Mikami pushed up his glasses and awkwardly waved at him.

Isamu gave a small nod of acknowledgment to the both of them before facing the front of the class. The two of them were nowhere near the top of the food chain in this school’s social hierarchy, but they were the only friends he had here. He turned his head back out the window, catching his phantom reflection in the glass. How was it that he only had two friends? At his old school he was the cool popular kid that was friends with everyone, how did he become so bad at connecting to people?

In the glass, Isamu noticed more than just his own blue-eyed reflection. Just outside the door way he could make out the faint image of someone standing just outside their classroom. He looked that way just to be sure it wasn’t a trick of the light. Yes, there was a girl standing there, waiting to be invited in.

“Now that that’s out of the way, class...” Ms. Mazawa said, turning to the door, “We have a new student transferring today. Please give her a warm welcome. You can come in now, dear.”

The girl stepped in front of the class with her head held high. The students all have short gasps of amazement at the fact that she dared come in without her uniform on. The transfer student was wearing casual clothes, ankle length beige pants with green trimming that matched her Chinese style shirt  and held her bag in front of her like a purse, rather than a backpack. Oddly, the thing that stood out about her wasn’t her lack of uniform, but the fact that she was wearing a white fingerless glove on her left hand with what appeared to be a strange digital watch over it.

“Hello.” She said to them, pulling a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “My name is Ju Ling, my family and I just moved here from Bejing. I don’t have my school uniform yet because of a mix up that gave me the wrong size.” She looked over at Ms. Mazawa who waved her hands for her to continue, “I'm an only child who likes computers, though I’m not necessarily very good with them. Thank you for having me, I look forward to joining your class.”

With a bow, she concluded her introduction and looked at Ms. Mazawa again who directed her to take the open seat next to Isamu. They whispered something to each other and Ju giggled as she came forward, Ms, Mazawa had probably instructed her to make sure he didn’t start daydreaming again. Isamu sighed and began scratching notes on the lecture.

This was going to be a long day...

When the last bell of the day rang, Isamu almost forgot about his detention and started out the door with Aki and Masato when Ms. Mazawa reminded him of his unwanted duties. Basically he was setting up chairs and tables for an hour and half, rather than the half hour lesson he would have gotten if he hadn’t mouthed off,  but still that was an hour and a half Isamu wasn’t spending at the park practicing with Aki and Masato.

Another defeated sigh escaped him, tryouts for the Soccer team were a few weeks away, Masato was the right midfielder and Isamu had been the striker for the team at his old school, but Aki had never played an official game. Isamu felt terrible that he had to miss out on training Aki, the blond haired boy wasn’t awful by any means but he needed as much support as possible.

The archery club supervisor met him outside the door where he saw another of his classmates, Kaiyo Nakano, lined up as a volunteer. Isamu knew she was a volunteer, number one because he knew she hadn’t gotten in trouble, secondly because Kaiyo seemed to volunteer to help out with every club, though she was only an active member of the chess club.

“Hey, Shidou, I’ve already signed us both in” Kaiyo greeted, taking the opportunity to partner up with him, “It’s easier for me to work when I’m not in a skirt, so I’m going to change out of my uniform before we start. You go ahead and change too, that way you can just leave right after we’re done.”

“Oh? Okay, thanks.” Isamu replied, he hadn’t even known they were supposed to sign in as volunteers, but with Ms. Mazawa nowhere in sight, he supposed there had to be some way for them to prove he’d actually done the detention work. Deciding not to waste time, Isamu went to his locker at a slight jog and grabbed his casual clothes to change in the nearby boys bathroom.

As he swapped clothes Isamu’s text alert beeped and he juggled his phone to check it as long as there was no one to scold him for texting when he should be working. The message was from Gorou, a friend from his old school. Isamu’s heart skipped a beat, he’d messaged Gorou about hanging out over the weekend three days ago, what had taken him so long to reply? To his disappointment, Isamu opened the text to find a simple “Sorry, can’t come ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” in response to his invitation.

Isamu dejectedly put his phone away without replying and finished changing so he could get to work. He stepped out of the stall sporting a pair of capris and white shirt with the word “REAL” printed in english lettering on the front, and a black track jacket with blue stripes running down the sleeves. He folded his uniform into his school bag and started back to the gym, running into Kaiyo again on the way.

Apparently she’d had the same idea to change in the girl’s bathroom. She was dressed in a pale pink shirt with the words ‘Be Kind” written under a graphic resembling a heart made out of an arrow, an army green jacket, light shorts, and long striped socks.

“Looking sharp. Leave your bag by the door and don’t forget to pick it up when you leave” She winked at him with a friendly, teasing tone and led the way back, and took him over to a supply closet once they dropped off their bags. She went on to explain “It's actually not a lot of work to get this all set up, but it takes two people to carry one table, sometimes more for the big ones. Mr. Kojima and Mrs. Arai will tell us where to put them, we just have to coordinate and do the heavy lifting.”

She wasn’t kidding about it being heavy, Isamu could hear her grunt as she pulled a table out from the closet and was soon grunting himself as he grabbed the other end and helped her lift it away. “And you volunteered to do this?” He blurted without thinking, he really needed to stop that, it usually got a laugh in his old town, but around here, it usually got him in trouble.

But to his surprise, Kaiyo did laugh, “What can I say? I like to keep busy. It sure beats going straight to my homework.” She said, they both paused for a moment while the supervisors instructed them on where to move the table to. Kaiyo showed him how to set it up, and they were quick to return to the supply closet to get another table.

For a little while, Isamu actually felt like he was finally connecting to people as Kaiyo introduced him to other students from around the school. He’d never needed anything but soccer in his life for a long time, but as he was socializing with the volunteers and other kids in detention, Isamu thought Kaiyo probably had the right idea by volunteering with other clubs outside of his personal interests.

It didn’t take long to get everything set up, and as much fun as this had surprisingly turned out to be,  Isamu was the first one out the door when everything was done- after just barely an hour rather than the hour and a half they’d thought it would take. What were the odds that Aki and Masato were still at the park? Isamu didn’t want to leave them hanging, and considered texting them when he found there was no need to.

They were waiting outside the school gates for him, already changed out of their uniforms. Masato had dark grey jeans with yellow stripes on the side, and a vest half zipped over an old graphic tee from the 80s. His dark brown hair was kept out of his bangs with a red bandana that, for some reason, Ms. Mazawa let him where in class.

“Man, they sure kept you in there long enough, did’ja have to clean the toilets with a toothbrush or something?” Masato griped as he picked his bag off the ground and stood back from the school gate.

“Ms. Mazawa told him to help set up for the archery club, I don’t think that’s what they do in detention.” Aki told him  and pushed up his glasses, his white jacket was zipped up all the way and had an orange stripe running horizontally across his chest and shoulders. He had dark green pants tucked into long boots, and his bag was strapped over his shoulder.

“What would you know about it? You’ve never gotten a detention!” Masato teased, lightly punching Aki’s shoulder, playfully, Aki stepped on his foot in response.

“He will if he keeps hanging out with you.” Isamu joked back and turned to Aki, “And yeah, I was totally scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush, all detention kids have to!”

The look on Aki’s face was priceless, it took all of his will power not to laugh, “Y-you’re kidding, right!?” His glasses slipped further down his nose and once more he had to push them back into place.

“About the toilets or about you getting in detention because of me?” Masato slinging his arms around each of their shoulders, at which point Isamu couldn’t help laughing, ruining the joke entirely.

“Well, never mind.” He said, freeing himself from Masato and  sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Sorry to have kept you guys waiting, you still free for practice or-”

“-Shidou!” All three of them turned to look, surprised to hear Kaiyo calling for Isamu.

She  was running toward them from the school entrance. She’d been a volunteer and was free to go whenever, but Isamu was under the impression that she was going to stick around to decorate too. His face flushed a little when he saw the reason she was running to catch up with him.

“What’s up Nakano, can’t you see we’re trying to escape from this place?” Masato trilled with a mischievous grin.

Kaiyo skidded to a stop and panted for a second before she looked at Isamu and smiled as she handed him the bag she was carrying with her. His bag, that he must have left at the fundraiser despite her warning not to. “You forgot this.” She winked at him, “Tanizaki wanted to hang it from the basketball hoop but I told him it was mine. You owe me big time.”

“Ah, th-thanks Nakano.” Isamu replied, taking his bag back and flipping it over his shoulders.

She waved her hand dismissively, “You can just call me Kaiyo if you want.” she said, hiking her own bag onto her shoulders and turned away, heading down another street, before shouting over her shoulder  “See you guys in class tomorrow! Don’t forget your homework again, Namura or Ms. Mazawa might actually make you eat lunch in the hall this time!”

Masato made a face while Isamu quirked his eyebrow at the bizarre sounding punishment, “It’s worse than it sounds,” Masato said, “Anyway, I guess I better get home and do that homework. You guys alright practicing without me?”

“Actually, I’d better do the homework too.” Aki said, pushing up his glasses and looking at the ground, “After all we have that math test coming up and it’s my worst subject.”

“You say that about every subject.” Isamu rolled his eyes slighting, very aware that he needed the practice for the math test more than he needed practice for the soccer try-outs, “Man, sorry about the detention guys, I hate to have you waiting for me and not have time to actually practice.”

Masato clapped his shoulder, “It’s alright, we can practice for a while and then do homework together at the park. I fail, you fail, what do you say? We can always practice more this weekend, you guys free?”

“I’m always free.” Aki replied with a shrug. “And studying together would probably be good for all of us, too” they both turned to Isamu, waiting to hear his answer.

His  fingers brushed his phone and thought about Gorou, but remembered that his friend claimed to be too busy to hang out this weekend- somethin he was never too busy for when they lived on the same side of the river. “Yeah, I’m free too. Who wants to race- huh?”

Isamu paused mid sentence, staring up at the building across the street where the air had seemed to distort for a second. Aki and Masato both looked the same way, but there was nothing to see. Isamu quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light, “Sorry, seeing things I guess.” He said, though he couldn’t shake the sudden feeling of being watched, “Anyway, I’ll race you guys to the park!” He pushed his way passed them and took off at a run, giving them no choice but to give chase.

Isamu laughed as he ran, Masato quickly started gaining on him with Aki no more than a few feet behind. The park was a few blocks away, and all three of them were exhausted from the run, “I’m.. so...slow…” Aki complained as they panted by the water fountain.

Masato checked the clock on his phone, “Actually... I think we... broke our record” He said.

Isamu clapped Aki’s shoulder, coughing slightly, “And you... kept up, just fine...I had guys on my team… At my old school...who were much slower…” He told him.

It took a few more minutes to convince Aki that he had done well, before they all agreed to sit at a picnic table and complete one page of homework before they started practice. Working together they actually managed to complete two pages before they remembered they wanted to practice some, too. Aki had a duffle bag which he kept his swimming trunks and towel in, as well as his uniform and clothes when he needed to change, and now it had become home to their soccer ball.

Between homework and practice, Isamu forgot about the strange distortion he’d seen outside the school, but while they were practicing the feeling of being watched started to creep up on him again. Not wanting to frighten Aki or Masato, he ignored the feeling and focused entirely on being the instructor, teaching both of them a trick he’d picked up at his old school to pass the ball between teammates while feigning a shot at the goal to confuse the other team.

At long last, they’d had enough practice and went back to their homework where it was harder to ignore the feeling of being watched. It was starting to alarm Isamu greatly, “Man, guys, I’m starting to get really tired” He sad, stretching to try to avoid suspicion of why he was suddenly backing out of the study group, “I think I’m finally getting this, so I’m going to head home for dinner and finish up tonight. I can text if I need extra help right?”

Masato nodded, “Yeah, it’s starting to get late, too” he said, “My aunt will get worried if I don’t at least call.” Aki agreed, and they all got up to leave the park- the feeling following Isamu, though neither Aki nor Masato seemed to be concerned. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to put them in danger so he tried to discreetly hurry them along.

However, the three of them spent a few extra minutes talking on the side of the road and finalizing plans for their weekend meet up before they finally parted ways. Aki and Masato lived three blocks away from each other, but Isamu lived in an apartment in the opposite direction.  

Having lived down here long enough to have learned a few short cuts, Isamu avoided the crowded main roads by taking less used alleyways, hoping to lose whatever was haunting him. This particular street was a back road behind a few convenience stores that occasionally company trucks used for deliveries, but Isamu rarely saw anyone actually using them.

His text alert beeped again, making him jump slightly, but he stopped to check it, this time the message was from another of his friends from his old school canceling their plans to hang out the next day. Isamu frowned and put his phone in his pocket without texting back. He’d only moved across the river for his father’s new job. Why was it so hard for everyone to meet him?

The boy became so lost in his thoughts that his sense of alertness started to fail. Isamu had his phone out again, looking up what assignments he had to for his classes and trying to decide what he needed to complete after dinner and what could be done during lunch tomorrow when he noticed movement. Isamu looked up, now absolutely certain that it was not just his imagination, or a trick of the light.

Where he had seen nothing but an odd ripple from the corner of his eye,  something melded into view. It looked like a giant chameleon wearing military gear. “Found a good one!” A raspy voice called out from the monster’s direction. Wait- that thing wasn’t the one speaking was it?

Faster than Isamu could make a run for it, a long slimy tongue lashed out of the creature’s mouth and wrapped around his body. He screamed and wiggled desperately, but was yanked closer to the chameleon’s open maw. Isamu closed his eyes, not wanting to see his upcoming doom, and wondering if the creature would kill him first or if it intended to swallow him whole and alive.

Neither option appeared to be the case, however as mere meters from the beast’s jaws, the tongue suddenly lifted him high. Isamu hardly dared to open his eyes again, but eventually had to when the raspy voice demanded he did, confirming that it was in fact the giant chameleon that was speaking.

Isamu struggled to breathe in the firm grip of the tongue, but did as commanded and opened his eyes to look at the creature, which was scrutinizing him the same way he might inspect the latest electronics while deciding what was better quality.

“Yes, yes. You’ll do.” The monster muttered,  Isamu whimpered as the tongue started to retract back toward the creature’s mouth, certain that this time he was going to be lizard chow, but to his relief, Isamu’s toes brushed the ground and he was released. Isamu toppled over, landing face first onto the pavement. “You’ll do just fine.”

Instinct told Isamu to get up and run, but logic reminded him that the creature would catch him with its tongue again if he tried...and maybe this time he would end up as dinner. “I...I’ll do just fine for what...?” Isamu asked, clearly food wasn’t what this monster was after, for now at least, but he had no idea what it really wanted from him.

The answer came with a massive foot being pressed onto his back, pinning him to the ground. “My Tamer!” The creature replied, “I am Chamelemon! And I need a leader like you to make me stronger!”

Chamelemon spoke as if Isamu should know what that meant, “You seem plenty strong to me!” He said, and wound up again regretting his tendency to say what was on his mind, when the pressure on his back increased as Chamelemon pushed him harder into the ground.

“Don’t be a fool! I barely scrapped through the war on my own! I need you to be my Tamer!” Chamelemon growled, “Now, make me stronger or I’ll kill you!”

Isamu wasn’t really in a position to say no, even if that’s all he wanted to do. Who did this thing think he was, what did he mean leader? Sure he had taken charge of Soccer practice but that hardly made him a leader. What could someone as powerless as Isamu do to make Chamelemon stronger? Two shapes appeared in Isamu’s peripheral vision, a black one and a white one. Female voices cried out strange words.

"Moon Surge!”

“Sun Bash!”

He managed to turn his head just enough to see the white shape, some kind of dog-like animal, shoot a small blast of light energy at Chamelemon. Though Isamu couldn’t see it, the black one on the other side of him was doing the same thing. The combined blast was powerful enough to knock Chamelemon back, allowing Isamu to scramble away.

With a good look at his rescuers now, Isamu realized that they were an almost identical pair. The canine features extended only to their faces and body shapes, their ears were long and tipped with tuffs of fur that were red on the black creature and blue on the other. They had long tails with spikes on the end.

“Ju! Get ready” The white one called, glancing behind her, passed Isamu forcing him to look as well.

He was surprised to see the girl that had transferred into class just that day. Ju looked equally surprised to see him, but didn’t dwell on it long as she focused on whatever it was that the white creature had told her to prepare for. Ju lifted her arm, pressing buttons on her digital watch.

The black one dodged a lashing from Chamelemon’s tongue, “Leptomon! Ju! We need to act now!”

“Don’t rush her, Cannismon!” the other replied, shooting another blast of energy from her mouth.

“All set!” Ju called, looking up from her glove, “Do it!”

The small dogs leaped between Isamu and Chamelemon, and their bodies began to glow. “Eclipse Snare!” they cried in unison and bounded forward, black and white energy trailed their every move.

Chamelemon attempted to squash them with both his tongue and his claws but Cannismon and Leptomon were much faster than him. The pair encircled him several times before their glow diminished and they sprinted away . The trail of energy they’d left behind tightened like a noose, trapping Chamelemon in its coil!

Ju took a few long strides forward, holding her gloved hand in front of her, “Initiate data conversion!” She shouted.

A computerized voice replied “Data conversion initiating.” A beam of light shot out of Ju’s watch and struck the giant lizard. Chamelemon started to pixelate, “Conversion in progress.”

“No!” Chamelemon struggled in his bonds, much like Isamu had while trapped by his tongue, and just as fruitlessly. Bits of his body broke off in small pixels and were dragged down the beam into the watch. The process was slow at first but picked up speed, and soon there wasn’t enough of Chamelemon left to struggle.

When he vanished entirely, the beam returned to Ju’s watch and the computer voice announced, “Conversion complete. Scanning new data....Scan complete. Digimon identified: Chamelemon. Would you like to view Chamelemon’s profile?”

“Not now.” Ju said and lowered her arm, pressing another button on her wristwatch.

The air around them pixelated in a similar manner to how Chamelemon had vanished, but aside from that, nothing seemed to change. “Digital Construct deactivated.” The computer said.

Ju then turned to Isamu, “You alright?” She asked.

Isamu’s mouth was hanging open in shock, “Wha- Did you kill it?” He asked.

Ju laughed, “What? No! No, I never kill Digimon. I just converted his data into something a little easier to carry.”

Isamu jumped when two small bodies suddenly pressed up against him, “If a Tamer converts a realized Digimon back into scan data, they can take them back to the Network, or even all the way back to the Digital World!” The one that had been called Leptomon said, bumping her head against Isamu’s hand like she wanted him to pet her.

“We always send the hostile ones back to the Digital World. If they attack humans in this world they’re not going to be welcome in the Network.” Cannismon added, wagging her tail, but keeping back from Isamu.

“Digimon? Network? Digital World?” Isamu looked at Ju for some kind of explanation, but the transfer student was busy giggling.

Finally she stepped over and offered him her hand to help him back to his feet. “That’s a little hard to explain, but Cannismon and Leptomon seem to like you, and they don’t usually warm up to strangers. Maybe Chamelemon was onto something, choosing you.”

“I don’t understand.” Isamu exclaimed, digging his hands into his pocket, “Choosing me for what?”

“To be a Digimon Tamer.” She replied, lifting her glove to him so that he could see that it was not a watch on her wrist. She lowered it and held her hand out again, this time in greeting. “I know I introduced myself this morning, but I think we should have a more proper one. I’m Ju Ling, I’ve been a Tamer for three years. These are my partners, Cannismon, and Leptomon.”

“Nice to meet you!” Leptomon said with a sing-song-voice, Cannismon gave the same response in a less enthusiastic tone.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Isamu Shidou.” He replied, shaking Ju’s hand and looking at the creatures at their feet for a moment before turning his eyes back to Ju. “What’s a Tamer?”

Next episode

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 5)

(I apologize if the tense changes all over the place, I’m writing this as a sort of stream-of-consciousness thing because I care more about getting the idea out than writing something that’s grammatically perfect. I’ll probably clean this up and make it an actual fic once it’s all done. Thanks for reading!! :D)

part one | part two | part three | part four

There is a definite shift in Keith’s demeanor after Lance’s last visit.

They play Overwatch a few times a week, and while Keith goes into stern-leader-battle-mode when the game is going, between matches he’s loose, candid. He laughs at Lance’s jokes and makes casual conversation about his job, the garage, tells funny stories about Kosmo. Lance tells Keith stories about the customers he has at the cafe. It’s nice to hear a softness in Keith’s voice that Lance hadn’t heard before.

Keith shows up in nearly all of Lance’s Overwatch videos, even if his mic isn’t recorded. They sort of fall into a rhythm, meeting online every Tuesday and Thursday night to search for servers.

“Y’know,” Keith says one night while they’re in queue. “I wouldn’t have figured you for a sniper type.”

“Eh?” Lance is in his Widowmaker menu at that moment, flipping between two skins to see which one he likes more. “What d’you mean?”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Keith clarifies, and it sounds like he’s smiling. “You just seem like more of a Mercy or a support or something. You’re really…” he pauses. “Generous. Always helping people. Then you get in here and you turn into a cold blooded assassin.”

Lance laughs. “I’ve always played a sniper, though. Gotta have balance somewhere, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

.

They text a lot. It’s all small stuff, like pet photos or memes (which Keith doesn’t understand 90% of the time and Lance finds that kind of adorable). But it’s nice. Occasionally they’ll both have an early shift, and Lance will text Keith photos of the ancient espresso grinder, captioned “this thing wants me dead” surrounded with skull emojis. Keith’s sense of humor, Lance learns, is dry as cracker juice. He gets a photo of a broken rubber floor mat with the question, “what sound does a floor mat make when it splits right before a fitness class?” Before Lance can answer, he gets another photo of the same mat, this time with Keith’s middle finger pointing soundly at it. “That sound,” says the caption. Lance laughs so hard that his boss yells at him for being on his phone during a shift.

August comes to an end, and Pidge prepares for her final term. Lance helps by assisting in an apartment clean out, getting rid of literal clutter to ease Pidge’s impending mental clutter. Lance tries not to think about how this might be their last few months in this apartment together. He’s really enjoyed living with Pidge - he wasn’t exaggerating when he said she was like a sister. Pidge is an extension of his family, ever since they met at space camp all those years ago. She’d been a tiny, fluffy, indomitable ball of pure snark and Lance loved her immediately. Since then, they’d stuck together, seeing each other through some of the hardest times. Lance had cheered his lungs out when Pidge was handed her high school diploma, and in a few months, he’d see her walk across another stage in a cap and gown to receive her bachelor’s degree in Robotic Engineering.

It made him a little misty-eyed to think about it.

Pidge is playing Stardew Valley one afternoon (how the hell did she manage to make such an insanely profitable farm before the end of year one?) when she casually brings up one of Lance’s favorite fall events.

“You gonna go to the Founder’s Fair this year?”

Lance doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Uh, is the Pope catholic?”

“Good.” On the screen, Pidge’s character gives a bouquet to Penny. Dating everyone but marrying no one: the Pidge method. “Hunk is coming in for it.”

“Sweet.”

The Harborville Founder’s Fair was the highlight of every autumn. Right as the summer was fading away and the air was showing a hint of a chill, Oceanside Park would explode into three days of carnival rides, food trucks, fireworks, and everything in between. It was also the best time of year to surf - they didn’t get much in the way of waves here, but there would always be just enough in late September to rent a board. Lance had put in his time off request a month ago, buttering up his boss with the ‘this might be my last September in Harborville’ sob story. Which was sort of true, even if he wasn’t quite ready to face that reality yet.

Lance felt like he was getting closer to Keith. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was the case, but if nothing else, Keith seemed to finally be relaxing around him. There were one or two times when Lance could almost swear Keith was flirting, but he quickly shoved the thought aside. Nope, don’t go there. That’s assuming things. Assuming is dangerous.

.

The fair is in a week and to make up for missing work on what will be one of the busiest weekends of the year, Lance is working at the cafe nearly every day. He has more steam burns on his hands and wrists from making lattes than ever, and he thinks if he hears the word “pumpkin spice” one more time he might lose it. He hasn’t played Overwatch all week, too tired from extra shifts to do anything other than zone out to Netflix when he gets home.

He’s got two hours left in his Thursday morning shift, then he’s free for the whole weekend. He can practically taste the funnel cakes now - and the Rancho Alegre food truck, the only decent source of Cuban food in the entire state, will be there. God, he’s going to eat until he can’t move.

The morning rush has come and gone and the afternoon crowd isn’t here yet, so Lance is cleaning up the mess of coffee grounds and cinnamon around his work station when the bell on the cafe door sounds. He doesn’t look up as his coworker/supervisor Romelle greets whoever walks through, too preoccupied with wondering how the hell almond milk ended up underneath the grinder.

“Hello,” says the customer and Lance totally knows that voice. He stops wiping sour milk and looks up.

It’s Shiro. And right behind him is Allura and - oh shit. It’s Keith. He’s here, he’s here in the cafe and Lance had no idea he was coming and he probably looks like shit, overworked with bags under his eyes and his face breaking out from stress and he didn’t even shampoo his hair this morning because he was running late --

But then Keith smiles at him and wow. His hair is down and he’s wearing this black and red leather jacket and it should be illegal to look that good. Especially when Lance is such a mess.

“Hi,” Lance says, hating how his voice cracks. “What are you guys doing in town?”

Shiro is pulling out his wallet with his left hand. “We came for the fair. It was always one of my favorite things about going to school here.”

“Oh,” Lance squeaks.

They’re here for the fair. Lance might get to spend time at the fair with Keith. He forces himself to focus on the present before a dozen fantasies of ferris wheel rides and sharing cotton candy can take over his brain.

They all order drinks and Lance claims them before Romelle can even finish ringing them up. Shiro gets a hazelnut americano, Allura orders a tuxedo mocha, and Keith shyly asks for a latte. Lance can tell he doesn’t go to coffee shops often and makes the drinks carefully. He can’t embellish Shiro’s americano, but he uses chocolate sauce and extra foam to draw a bow tie in Allura’s mug. For Keith’s latte, he sends a prayer to the coffee gods to grant him latte art prowess. It works, and Lance is rounding out rings of coffee and foam, pulling through to form a perfect heart.

He slides the mug across the counter to Keith, who’s eyebrow shoot into his hair. He breaths a little “wow” and blushes, taking the mug and smiling. He’s wearing fingerless leather gloves. Lance’s heart flip-flops in his chest.

The three of them find a table near the window and sit, chatting and drinking their coffee. They’re too far away for Lance to hear what they’re saying, and even if he could, he’s on the clock, and the lunchtime regulars are starting to trickle in.

Would it be gauche to text his evening shift coworker and bribe him to come in early so Lance can leave?

Lance thinks Romelle can tell he’s pouting by the way she sides up to him.

“Hey,” she whispers. “Is that the guy?”

He follows her gaze and sees that it lands firmly on the table where Keith is sitting with Shiro and Allura. Keith looks up at Lance, and smiles a little before turning back to his brother.

“Yeah,” Lance whispers back, feeling his face heat up. “The one with the long hair.”

Romelle lets out a low whistle. “Quite the catch,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “What about the girl they’re with?”

“Allura?” Lance thinks. “I don’t know her very well, but she’s nice.”

“She single?”

Lance rolls his eyes and starts on the next drink. “No idea, you should ask her.”

It’s slower today and Lance is thankful for it. With Keith in the room, he can’t focus on anything - it’s a miracle he doesn’t catastrophically screw up the drinks he’s making. There’s a break in customers and Romelle comes over to Lance where he loading a portafilter with espresso and waves her phone.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says, and he does not like that voice. That’s her Supervisor Voice. “I’ll call Ryan in an hour early if you get me Cute Girl’s number.”

Lance puts the tamp down. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He looks over at the table where Keith is sitting. They’ve all finished their drinks and will probably be leaving soon.

“Romelle,” Lance states. “You are an evil super villain and I love you. Consider that number yours.”

Fifteen minutes later, Ryan Kinkade is walking in and he doesn’t look particularly thrilled about it. Lance takes off his apron and motions at the jar of cash by the register.

“Ryan, you’re a lifesaver and my tips are yours. Thank you!” Lance clocks out before anyone can argue and walks over to where Keith and Co are sitting. He’s very much aware of how he probably reeks of coffee and looks like garbage but does his best to smile anyway.

“My shift is over, did you guys have any plans?”

Shiro smiles and stands. “I think we were going to head to our Air B&B and check in, actually. We could use a breather after that drive. We can meet up for dinner later, if you want.”

Inwardly, Lance lets out a sigh of relief because this means he’ll have time to take a shower and make himself presentable. “That sounds good! Any place you want to go?”

Shiro shrugs. “Is Vinnie’s still open?”

Lance lights up. “Oh yeah, still as good as ever, too! Want to meet there at, uh - “ He checks his phone, it’s barely 3pm. “Around five? We should beat most of the dinner rush that way.”

They all nod and the plans are made. They walk outside together and Lance watches the three of them get into a very nice Chrysler sedan - maybe Allura’s, given how she goes for the driver’s seat. Once they’re gone, Lance heads for his car and books it home. He immediately washes and exfoliates his face, then applies an anti-inflammatory mask and works at cleaning up the apartment. It was already fairly clean since Hunk will be crashing on the pull-out sofa bed for the weekend, and he has no idea of Keith will ever even see this place, but Lance doesn’t want to take any risks.

He shoots Pidge a text to tell her about their plans in case she wants to join. Hunk isn’t due until tomorrow morning.

Apartment clean(er) and his face mask dry and itchy, Lance hops in the shower and scrubs himself sore. Keith is here and will be spending the weekend here and Lance is equal parts ecstatic and terrified. He meticulously goes through his whole grooming routine, moisturizes, swabs, trims his eyebrows, even files his nails. He checks his reflection once he’s done and thankfully his face is less red, the stress acne barely noticeable.

There’s still about 45 minutes until he needs to be at Vinnie’s so Lance takes his time picking out clothes. He settles for a low cut tank top that shows off his collarbones and a beige button down over it with the sleeves rolled up, finishing it off with a pendant necklace and grey skinny jeans. He examines himself in the mirror and frowns a little. Does it look too much like date clothes?

He doesn’t have time to change because then his phone pings and it’s Shiro, saying they’re heading to Vinnie’s a little early. Lance all but throws himself out the door.

.

Vinnie’s is starting to get crowded, Lance can already see the line forming when he parks. He spots Shiro and Allura easily, their white hair making them stand out. They’d managed to claim a patio table - no small feat - and were chatting happily.

Lance joins them and it’s amazing how welcome he feels in this group, the way Shiro half-pulls a chair out for Lance. Keith is sitting to his right, his jacket draped over the back of his chair, the black t-shirt he wore stretching nicely over his chest. And if he didn’t know any better, Lance could swear he saw Keith’s eyes sweep down his neck and linger.

They ate and laughed and ate more, drinking fancy gourmet sodas. They make loose plans for the weekend - beach tomorrow, then the fair on Saturday, and maybe brunch before they leave on Sunday. Lance educates Keith in the ways of the garlic knot, the most sacred food item on earth. And when Keith shrugs and says they’re “alright,” Lance feigns offense, gasping and clutching his chest.

Pidge joins them later, looking utterly spent from a long day of classes. Lance gives up his seat so she can collapse into it. He kneels beside the table instead, passing Pidge the last of their pizza and appetizers. Keith gives him a look, then scoots over to one side of his chair, patting the other with his hand.

Lance short circuits, looking from the empty side of the chair to Keith’s face several times.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Get up here. That,” he points to where Lance is kneeling, “Is super bad for your knees.”

“Oh?” Lance slides into place, and it’s sort of uncomfortable with half of his ass hanging off the chair, but he can feel heat pouring off Keith’s body with how close he is. “You care much about my knees?”

Keith goes super red. “I’m a physical trainer,” He said, suddenly very interested in his soda. “It’s my job to care. Doing stuff like that will ruin them.”

“Right.”

Lance glances over at Pidge, who had a garlic knot halfway to her mouth and giving Lance the most predatory grin. He glares at her to shut down whatever evil plans she might be formulating.

They finally finish the food and decide to stop taking up a table, bussing it themselves to save the staff some work. Instead of a bar, they decide to head over to Lance and Pidge’s apartment to chill - half because Pidge isn’t 21 yet and wouldn’t be able to join them at most of the bars in town, and half because Vinnie’s was so loud that they’re all craving some quiet.

Lance is so thankful that his past self had the sense to clean a little more. They all sprawl out over the living room, Lance going to pull a chair from the kitchen to sit on so the guests can have the nice couch and Pidge can curl up in the easy chair. Lance offers up the ice cream sandwiches from the freezer and everyone takes one; Allura seems to be examining hers with great interest, like she’s never had one before.

Shiro talks a lot, mostly about what Harborville was like when he and Matt were in college. About their first apartment that should probably have been condemned, the dogs he’d walk between classes for extra cash. Eventually Lance’s cats come out of hiding to investigate, and Keith goes starry-eyed at Batou’s big green eyes and plush grey coat.

Pidge falls asleep in her chair just after nine. Everyone takes a second to coo at how cute she is before Lance bends down to scoop her up.

“Lemme put sleeping beauty here to bed. If she stays there she’ll be sore and cranky when she wakes up.”

He takes Pidge to her room and sets her on her bed, then wrestles her sneakers off her feet, setting her glasses on the bedside table and draping a sheet over her. When he goes back into the living room and sits in the chair he’d removed Pidge from, Allura gives him a fond look.

“You’re very sweet to her.”

Lance shrugs. “She’s pretty much family. Also, I have to do that all the time. I’ve found her face down on her homework out here more times than I want to count.”

They talk for another two hours. Lance feels a little lonely with Keith sitting on the side of the couch furthest from him, but then again, if he was closer, Lance isn’t sure his brain would work. Allura yawns wide.

“I think it’s time we turned in,” she states. “I’d like to get some rest before the weekend starts.”

Shiro agrees. Lance ends up seeing them off in the parking lot, waving as they drive away.

.

Hunk arrives just after 10am the next morning, armed with bags of groceries to pack a picnic for the beach. He puts Lance and Pidge on an assembly line in the kitchen, making pork sandwiches, vegetable rolls, hummus wraps, crab and radish tartines, potato salad, and chocolate-dipped clementine slices. He’d picked up a package of Lance’s favorite lemon cream cookies and Lance could almost kiss him for it.

With their precious picnic food carefully packed in an ice chest along with plenty of drinks, Lance shot a group text to Keith, Shiro, and Allura to ask if they were ready for the beach. He got confirmation quickly, and they agreed to hit the north shore near the lighthouse, where the sand was rougher but the tourists tended to be a little thinner.

Parking is a bitch but they find a spot, then wait by the trunk for Keith and Co to arrive. About ten minutes later Lance sees Allura’s Chrysler pull in to a spot. They walk over to meet them and Lance is practically bouncing, because 1) he gets to go to the beach, 2) he gets to go surfing with Hunk, 3) he gets to spend time with new friends, and 4) Keith is here. Everyone is in shorts and light shirts, Allura has this big floppy sun hat that is absolutely precious on her, and Keith’s face is shiny with sunscreen. Lance bets that fair skin of his will still be red by the end of the day.

They find a spot that’s decently clear and set up. Hunk, Keith, and Lance tackle the portable canopy that will hopefully keep them all from becoming completely sunburned while Allura and Pidge set out the sand blanket and arrange their stuff to keep the wind from blowing it away. Once they’re settled, the ice chest is opened and sodas and juice are passed around. The wind is strong today but not enough to be a problem for their canopy, and the waves are large and plentiful. Lance eyes the surfboard rental shack a quarter mile down the beach.

Once they’ve had enough of snacking and chatting, Lance gives Hunk fingerguns and they almost take off down the beach together, making a beeline for the surfboards. Rolo is working it as usual and after some searching they find the perfect boards and duck into the changing tent to get into their springsuits. Lance has the white and blue suit up over his hips and was about to pull it the rest of the way on when he remembers that Keith is sitting out there. Ever since Lance learned he was a Crossfit trainer, he’d started running and working out again. He wasn’t in as good a shape as he was when he’d been swimming competitively, but thanks to months of regular exercise, he at least sort of looked the part again. And maybe he wanted to show off a little. So Lance left the top of his springsuit open and hanging from his hips as they went back to the group with their boards.

“Showoff,” Hunk accused while they were still out of earshot of everyone else.

Lance subtly flexed his chest. “So? I worked hard for this.”

When they got back to the canopy, Lance did his best to act nonchalant as he set his board aside and started pulling his springsuit up over his chest. Keith was definitely looking at him. Mission accomplished.

His flirty nature satisfied, it was time to surf. Lance missed this so much, the first step into the ocean water was like heaven. He and Hunk paddled out until the water was smooth, then sat on their boards and waited. They didn’t have to wait long, Hunk caught the first good wave that came their way, riding it out and away. Lance caught the next one, and it was a crazy high. It just felt so good, cutting through the water with his board, turning, riding through tunnels of blue-green. The waves tossed him, wrecked him, dragged his body against the sand below. But every time, Lance would surface, shake it off, and paddle out for another go.

His legs finally started to shake, so Lance hauled his board back to the shore. Hunk was already sitting under the canopy again, changed out of his springsuit and sipping on a juice box.

“I was gonna give you ten more minutes before I dragged you out of the water,” Hunk said.

Lance didn’t reply, chest heaving as he caught his breath. His board hits the sand and he all but collapses onto the sand sheet, his ears ringing.

A water bottle appeared in his periphery. Lance looked up enough to trace the hand that held it back to Keith, who was wearing this cute little smile. Lance smiled back and took the bottle, downing half of it in one gulp.

Pidge starts pulling out food and Lance blindly eats whatever is handed to him, too exhausted to care what it is. It’s all delicious but with how many calories he burned surfing, he could probably be eating stale saltines and they’d taste like a delicacy. He leans back on the sand sheet and basks in the post-surf euphoria.

Lance notices everyone starting to get up. Allura is holding several frisbees with a gleam in her eye, and most of the group is rising to join her. Keith stands and, after fiddling with the collar of his shirt for a second, reaches back and pulls it over his head, letting it drop to the ground.

Lance is instantly awake because holy shit. Keith is ripped. He’s all tight skin and perfect muscles and - oh.

He’d been wrong when he’d assumed Keith’s tattoo was a wolf. It’s actually a lion, roaring fiercely, emblazoned in dark red ink over his left hip.

Keith takes a hair tie off his wrist and uses it to pull his hair up high on the back of his head. He shoots Lance a loaded glance before walking out into the sun to join everyone else for a game of frisbee tag. Lance memorizes the muscles of his back as he goes.

“Good god, you’re so loud.”

Lance sits up and turns to see Pidge, sitting in the center of the sand sheet in her shorts and green rash guard, with her phone in one hand and a cookie in the other.

“I didn’t say anything!” Lance protests. Pidge just cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Not with words, anyway.”

Lance frowns, then dares to look back out at his friends, finding Keith and tracking his movements across the beach.

.

They empty the ice chest of food and drink and, after several more hours of beach fun, they decide to pack it in and head out. Lance is going to remember this day for the rest of his life - the image of Keith glistening wet as he walked out of the ocean had finally taught Lance the meaning of the phrase “looks good enough to eat.”

Lance is so, so tired. Surfing wore him out but he still played a round of beach volleyball after that, and then swam some more. He’s going to be so sore tomorrow. He drives himself, Hunk, and Pidge back to their apartments to shower and change before they head over to the Air B&B where Shiro, Keith, and Allura are staying. Lance decides on a regular shirt and his favorite jeans, only bothering to put a single layer of moisturizer on his face.

The Air B&B turns out to be a whole house, with a yard and a little deck where they all gather around faded patio furniture as Shiro hands out beers. He gives Pidge a look as she takes one for herself.

“What?” She says as she twists off the top of the bottle. “I’m gonna be 21 in a few months, I’m in safe company, and I’m not driving.”

Shiro just sighs and sits down.

They talk and laugh for hours. Pidge only has one beer before switching to sweet tea, and Lance is a little relieved. He has no idea what drunk Pidge would be like and he’d rather not find out this weekend - he would be cash money that she’d be ornery as hell. Hunk orders some delivery from their favorite noodle place when Lance isn’t paying attention. Keith looks happy as a kid on Christmas with a giant bowl of pho in front of him, and Lance learns that Vietnamese food is his favorite.

They move inside once the sun goes down to keep from bothering the neighbors. Lance settles into a corner of the faded couch, and is too tired to panic when Keith sits next to him. Hunk launches into a story about his last term at school when he almost blew the breaker for the entire engineering building and Lance tries to pay attention, but he’s worn out and Keith is radiating heat like a furnace. Combine that with his full stomach and a couple of beers and he’s so, so sleepy.

Someone is calling his name and Lance inhales sharply, eyes fluttering open. It was Hunk, who’s smiling at him from across the coffee table. Lance is leaning on something warm and solid. He rubs his eyes and looks up.

He was leaning on Keith.

Lance’s eyes bug out but Keith just looks down at him with this tiny smile and a blush on his cheeks. Lance suddenly feels like the room is a million degrees as he carefully sits up.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out.”

Keith laughs softly. “It’s fine.”

They all start to wrap up their stories and conversations. Lance doesn’t know what time it is but it feels late, and since they want to hit the fair tomorrow, they should all get some sleep. Hunk offers to drive home and Lance hands him the keys as Keith, Shiro, and Allura wave goodbye from the front porch.

He almost falls asleep again in the ten minutes it takes Hunk to drive them back to their apartment. Lance helps set up the pull-out sofa, then goes to brush his teeth. He’s practically nodding off at the bathroom sink when Pidge comes up to him and pulls out her phone.

“Thought you should see this,” she says, holding it up.

On the screen is a photo of Keith, and, with his head resting on Keith’s shoulder dead asleep, Lance. Keith is looking down at him and definitely blushing.

The toothbrush stills in Lance’s mouth as he swipes the phone from Pidge’s hand, using his thumbs to pull and zoom. Keith was smiling.

“Please send this to me immediately,” Lance tells her, words muffled from the toothbrush still hanging from between his teeth.

He’s in bed setting his alarm when he gets the text from Pidge with the photo attached. And if Lance hugs a pillow and kicks his feet a little at the sight, who could blame him?

.

Continued in part 6!

[sp00kymulderr]

tag game ★~(•◡•✿) 50 questions you’ve never been asked before

Tagged by @longitud-de-onda & @javierpenaspinkshirt aages ago thanks loves💖

what colour is your hair brush?

Neon pink

are you typically too warm or too cold?

warm

what were you doing 45 minutes ago?

French lessons on Duolingo!

what is your favorite candy bar?

Whittakers coconut block omg

have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yeah mainly football cause I grew up a Leeds United supporter (ew). The best of any sport I’ve been to watch was roller derby in Austin, that was incredible.

what is the last thing you said out loud?

I was actually attempting to read out loud that cursed @amarvelousmandalorian fic to see how far I could get, but I won’t tell you which bit I got to cause I don’t wanna write it down haha

what is your favorite ice cream?

Ben & Jerrys Half Baked maybe. Idk I don’t eat a lot of ice cream

what was the last thing you had to drink?

Water. Gotta stay hydrated.

do you like your wallet?

Yeah. It’s super glittery and cute, but I’ve had it a couple years it’s time to replace it I reckon.

what was the last thing you ate?

Some carrot batons cause I couldn’t be bothered to cook

did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

No but I did buy some art prints from my fave tattoo artist which is way more exciting

the last sporting event you watched?

All Black v Tonga in 2018 is the last one I actually remember. Really don’t watch sports.

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Sweet & Salted

who is the last person you sent a text message to?

my brother

ever go camping?

Not since 2009 when we camped out somewhere near Austin I think, I’m not particularly in to camping.

do you go to church every Sunday?

No. I am very much an atheist

do you have a tan?

At the moment kinda, my fake tan is coming off and looks patchy af. I need to sort that out before it gets warm again.

do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

pizza pizza all the time.

do you drink your soda with a straw?

Nah

what color socks do you usually wear?

what are socks? I haven’t worn socks in so long jfc. Black if I have to wear them.

do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don’t drive

what terrifies you?

Dogs because I have a really bad phobia. Storms in general but specifically lightning, other deeper things but I don’t wanna talk about those.

look to your left, what do you see?

The back of my sofa and the wall

what chore do you hate?

I have come to realise I don’t mind chores now I live alone, but cleaning the bathroom is probably the one I like the least

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

how much I’d rather be hearing a New Zealand accent haha. JK they’re fine but I don’t really have much of a reaction, I’ve lived and travelled with too many Australians at this point.

what’s your favorite soda

Coke Zero, I don’t really drink other sodas

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Go in but I generally try to avoid them as much as possible.

who’s the last person you talked to?

My therapist but that was an online chat so idk if that really counts as talking. In person, my deliveroo driver

favorite cut of beef?

no thank you, I don’t eat meat.

last song you listened to?

In Red - Queenadreena (I’m really diving back in to music from my teenage years this week idk what’s going on)

last book you read?

I haven’t picked up a book in forever I don’t have the energy to read eugh. I am still working through The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet and I guess the last I actually finished was The Last Wish

favorite day of the week?

Fridays, when times were normal and I was working. All days are equal now. 

can you say the alphabet backwards?

definitely not

how do you like your coffee?

Strong, made in a cafetiere and with a dash of oat milk. If I’m ordering from a coffee shop though; cold brew or mocha

favorite pair of shoes?

I had a really nice Doc Martens collection going, and these beautiful dark purple suede docs were my highlight - but I can’t wear them anymore because of plantar fasciitis and had to get rid of them :’(

the time you normally go to sleep?

At the moment we’re looking between midnight and 4am

the time you normally get up?

Very rarely before 11am. I don’t know how I’ll cope when I get sent back to work and have to get up at 5am fuck.

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunsets. They’re beautiful and peaceful and remind me of home.

how many blankets on your bed?

just the duvet, no blankets.

describe your kitchen plates

Boring plain white and sort of square. 

do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

I’m a red wine girl through and through, give me a good Malbec and I’m very happy. I’m definitely getting more in to whisky every day but I’ve yet to find my absolute favourite (maybe Jura Prophecy? it is amazing)

do you play cards?

Sure but only snap ha

what color is your car?

I don’t have one.

can you change a tire?

Nope

favorite job you’ve ever had?

God I’ve had so many jobs and I really disliked the large majority of them. I wasn’t made for the kind of jobs I’ve had to take. The best one I ever had though was the first job I got in my industry that wasn’t call centre work - I wrote letters responding to hotel complaints for a bedbank. It was amazing; I got to write every day, I had the most wonderful supportive supervisor, I didn’t have to physically speak to customers just write to them. I was with that company for several years and got promoted, worked in a bunch of different departments but that job was the one I always wanted to go back to. If it wasn’t London based I’d happily return to it now.

how did you get your biggest scar?

The only scar I still have is from scraping my acrylic stiletto nail in to the skin on my knee by accident. I don’t have any big big ones.

what did you do today that made someone else happy?

Fuck all. I sent a friendly anon which I hope made the person smile, does that count?

idk who to tag since this is quite old but if you see this and wanna do it consider this me tagging you!