#no. you know what. bathroom. just you the toilet and goya

[sarcoptid]

maybe it's better that i don't own a house bc i get decorating ideas like "what if i dedicated a wall in the sitting/dining room to paintings that make people uncomfortable"

[haikyooot]

Mixing Colors

Pairing: Miya Osamu x gn!reader

Summary: Osamu proposes to you in his onigiri shop.  

Warnings: really bad poop jokes 

Word Count: 1k

All the lights in the shop are off except for the kitchen and the bar seating where you’re at. 

“Is it done yet?” you ask impatiently. 

“Aren’t you the patient one?” Osamu teases. “Here you go, have a try.”

Osamu presents you with an unnaturally fancy plate with a single rice ball wrapped in nori on top. The rice ball looks deceivingly normal and you’re not sure what new bizarre filling is inside. Osamu sometimes gets a bit too creative with his new creations. You end up being his little lab rat before it gets put onto the menu. Whatever is in this one, you’re convinced you probably had worse.

“Are you sure this is good?”

“Just try it. It’ll be interesting.” 

You take a small bite. The rice is normal, at least, nothing new. You take another bite, chewing through the filling a bit. That’s when you know what Osamu meant by ‘interesting’. The tip of your tongue makes contact first. It’s sweet. Red bean paste? Wait, no. It’s sour? Is that cherry? You chew and swallow, trying to determine exactly what flavor this concoction is. It’s bitter...oh my god is that goya? And something savory too? But in the end, it’s all washed away by the taste of bonito flakes. Oh gosh, it’s so gross. 

“What the hell is this Samu,” you cringe, setting the rice ball back onto the plate and looking for Osamu. “It’s so nasty. What did you mix together?” 

You don’t find him standing next to you. Instead, you find Miya Osamu on one knee. The lights from the bar only illuminate one half of his perfect face. Something’s happening and your brain is short-circuiting.

“When we first started dating, you took me to a couple’s paint night.” He reaches out and grasps your left hand. His calloused fingers caress and intertwine with yours. 

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” your voice wavers slightly, confused and anxious.

“Do you remember?” 

----

“Samu, do you know what happens when you mix all the colors together?” you look at the paper plate with blobs of paint. You are already dragging the brush through each color, streaking them into one another. 

Osamu watches, half-interested. “It turns into shit. And you just wasted all of our paint. Now we can’t finish our painting.” 

The colors begin to turn into an uniform, even brown. 

“Told ya,” Samu takes the brush from your hands and throws the brown onto the canvas. The original landscape painting is immediately covered by a new blanket. 

“Hey, what are you doing?!” you whisper, glancing around the room. The other couples are still ultra attentive and working on their paintings. Why is the love child of you and Osamu turning into a dirt scape? 

“I dun wanna waste paint. This is a new abstract style,” Osamu replies nonchalantly, continuing to cover the painting. 

“It looks like shit! I can’t believe this is what all the pretty colors turn into.” 

“Whatever, as long as we know what it’s actually made up of, that’s fine.” 

“Of what?”

“Pretty colors. Only we need to know what it means, right?” 

You sigh. Well, it is what is then. You take what was originally Osamu’s brush and cover the entire canvas with the brown. Yellow for joy. Blue for calmness. Red for passion. Green for abundance. Orange for playfulness. Purple for magic. Altogether, it is the earth. 

“What’ll happen if you mixed all the flavors together?” you ask, looking at the pair of paintbrushes traversing across the earthen painting. 

The chef answers. “Actual shit.” 

----

The two of you ended up leaving the event early, canvas in tow. A few “what the hell is that” and “lol” were heard in the background, but whatever. That brown canvas is still hanging in the bathroom. Moderne. 

“No shit I remember,” you whisper and chuckle. “The piece of crap is still hanging over our toilet.” 

Osamu chuckles with you and for a second, the moment just seems a bit stupid and absurd. He swings your hand slightly.

“Did you like how all the flavors taste together?” 

You shake your head, “tastes like shit.” 

“I assure you, you haven’t tried actual poop,” Osamu remarks. You shove his shoulders slightly with your other hand and Osamu grasps it, bringing both of your hands into his own. 

“Sweetness,” he begins, locking eyes with yours. “The first sensation off the tip of your tongue. That’s how I feel waking up with you every morning. Sourness, next, for the times we jab at each other.” 

Osamu continues rubbing slow circles over your hands.  

“Savoriness, for all the time we spend together, just being together. Bitterness, unpleasant, but necessary, for all the challenges we overcome together.”

Osamu raises your hands and presses his lips to the knuckles. 

“And finally, umami, to bind it all together. I’m telling you, we’re just a bucket of crazy together. Each moment, every flavor, they make up my dreams of a shared life with you. I love you, will you marry me?”  

You shut your eyes, feeling tears fall through your lashes. You nod furiously and manage to squeak out an off-tune ‘yes’. When you pull your hands away to rub your tears away, you notice a ring slipped onto your finger already. When that actually happened, you have no idea. Your mind is still completely blank and trying to grasp if the moment is part of your dreams or reality. Osamu pulls you into a warm embrace and gives you a kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers before kissing you again. “Thank you.”

“I swear, Samu,” you murmur in between kisses. “This shitty onigiri will send me to the toilet soon. Shit’s not going to be good. And I’ll stare at that horrible painting.” 

Osamu laughs, “at least the ring isn’t in the onigiri! Tsumu suggested that and I shot it down.” 

You sniffle and join his laughter, pulling him close once more.The flavors swirl between the two of you and eventually fade away. Only happiness remains in the dimly lit shop. The two of you end up finishing the bizarre creation of a rice ball, on the grounds of not wasting food. You’re not sure why, but it seems to taste a lot better when sharing it with someone else.

“I love you too Samu.”

[kurisus]

Noragami Fic Recs

You asked for it, you got it! Here are my favorite Noragami fics. Hope these give you something new to dive into.

Real quick I’m gonna shill my AO3--I’ve got a few works up already, with some cool new projects in progress! (yes it’s all Noragami I enjoy it a very normal amount)

Now on to the fics. I linked Tumblrs when possible, but if I overlooked one please let me know!

oh nostalgia, i don’t need you anymore by @swankitty

Summary: yato’s shinki always have the tragic habit of quitting on him. and like a coward, he lets them go.

“that’s just proper etiquette,” kofuku says, nodding in approval at yato’s apparent respectability. but every time yato has to face a slobbering ayakashi empty handed, every time he instinctively reaches to call for a name he doesn’t have the right to say anymore —

yato wonders how long it will take for him to become forgotten.

yato, yukine, and the question: what is the duty a god has to his shinki?

Beautiful character study centering on Yato and Yukine with an unconventional writing style that really helps it along. Very vivid descriptions.

Amaranthine by Smoochynose

Summary: There’s a girl and there’s a god. That’s something that never really changes across the centuries.

Yatori reincarnation AU. whacked me right in the feelings with a baseball bat and then kept going. A wonderful portrayal of a couple fated to find each other no matter what.

In Spring I Said I Love You by @fushiginokunino

Summary: An AU centered entirely around Yato's odd habit of proposing to Hiyori.

Yatori childhood friends to lovers, human AU, it’s got it all. Try to read this without feeling like someone’s chopping onions in your direct vicinity, I dare you.

A Blessing by @sinemoras09

Summary: Nothing lasts forever. Yukine-centric. Yato/Hiyori. Warnings for character death. No spoilers.

The fic that ended my whole career, basically. Just read it and feel your feelings slowly crumbling to ash. (PS: sinemoras also has a bunch of great Kazubisha fics. Like, a lot. Check them out.)

reverse by songs

Summary: Iki Hiyori stares at the five-yen coin in her palm, and wonders.

Yatori angst. Short, but beautifully written and enough to make me cry.

Note: This got deleted off AO3, but luckily I was able to track down its repost on FFN.

Solstice by threesmallcrows

Summary: There’s a kid in the bathroom stall. He’s curled on the floor, asleep or passed out with his forehead pressed against the toilet’s base.

In which Yukine is a runaway, Yato’s homeless, Hiyori works at the local shelter, and it’s the winter of the deepest freeze Tokyo’s seen in thirty years. Human!AU

A Noragami classic, and for good reason. Very gritty, wonderfully written, not for the faint of heart. Will make your face feel like you rubbed it against sandpaper (I wasn’t kidding about the grittiness).

intertwined by @jaded-envy

Summary: A bond, once severed, can never be uncut. But it can be retied.

Gorgeous Yatori fic exploring what would happen if Yato cut Hiyori’s ties, then reunited with her once more. Has a fantastic ending.

Midnight Ricochet by @calamitouscyan

Summary: To kill a part of oneself was meant to produce a ricochet; a dangerous deflection of a projectile, that may cause collateral damage to one's surroundings--including the very person who fired the shot. He had miscalculated that part, and yet... he wasn't unhappy with the results. A project for the Noragami Big Bang 2018, inspired by Goya no Machiawase.

Yato character study written by the biggest Yato expert around. Very poetic, abstract, and all around amazing.

Stepping Stones by @southofzero

Summary: Yato gives her a weak smile. "You sure do make a lot of promises to me, Hiyori."

She tips her head, forcing him to look her in the eye. "And I haven't broken any yet, have I?"

"No," he admits quietly, "you haven't."

Delicious Yatori fluff, thank you Kitty for my entire life. Also check out the rest of her AO3 and give her love--her writing is incredible.

forever and a day by @skadventuretime

Yatori reincarnation AU, abstract and beautifully written, knows how to get me right in the feelings.

Stray Sails by @eerna

Summary: Faced with rapidly approaching duties of a governor's daughter, Hiyori Iki wishes to enjoy her last months of freedom doing what she loves most- (secretly) reading about swashbuckling pirates, rummaging through her (missing) brother’s study, and playing around with a (stolen) pistol. But, when she gets a chance to accompany two young outlaws on a hunt for a legendary weapon, she can't resist the call of the grand sea-bound adventure she'd always dreamed of- or answers she might find along the way.

The Noragami pirate AU we didn’t know we needed but now that it’s here we can’t live without it. Fast-paced, wonderful storytelling, all the best trio moments. Just, wow. Left me with goosebumps more than a few times.

Swing for the Fences by @eerna

Summary: "This will be my year." "But it is morning. Morning of a new period in our education. The Yato-sama era."

Hiyori Iki has one dream: become a renowned MMA fighter. There's only one place that can help her achieve that: Hafuri Studio and the God of Calamity, an impossibly skilled trainer whose name sends shivers down the crowds' spine. But, what is the truth behind this man and what is the meaning of the notorious underground fight club that seems to have its claws sunk deep into Hafuri's bright lights?

One of my top two all-time favorite fics in the fandom. Holy moly does it get EVERYTHING right. Remember how I said Jo is a wonderful storyteller? yeah. Plenty of Yatori, heartwarming trio moments, a fascinating plot, and oh BOY does she know how to bust out the angst. Excellent tie-ins to canon as well. Read it. Then read it again. And again. Be sure to leave comments.

Payback by @scarfblogs

Summary: The second time he spoke to Hiyori Iki was a full week after their first conversation. The bus had just dropped her off at the end of the street. She waved at him and said: “It’s Yato, isn’t it?”

That was when he had fallen in love with her.

How have I gotten so far down this list without a Scarf fic? Yatori fake dating AU, full of all kinds of nonsense and just pure, unadulterated goodness. You WILL be laughing your ass off and you WILL enjoy every second of it.

incorruptible by @scarfblogs

Summary: “You’ve been a surprise from the start, little human girl. You’ve accomplished for a long time what most humans cannot, and straddled the divide between our world and your own. Perhaps you will shock us all again.”

Started as Yatori alphabet drabbles, ended as a beautiful testament to everything I love about both Scarf and Noragami.

before by @scarfblogs

Summary: Have you heard this story before?

Like many stories, it starts a long time ago. And, like many stories, it begins with someone wanting something—wishing for something.

A wish strong enough—desperate enough—to make a story worth the telling.

yes we are in Loving Scarf hours. Yatori reincarnation AU that doubles as an origin story and a fairytale. Pulls you in and wrings you out and leaves you feeling like a different person.

god of ashes by @scarfblogs

Summary: “Are you really a god?”

The question is unfathomably stupid.

He stands in the middle of the crowd around the shrine, unnoticed by any except her. A presence like salt, like ice, among the surrounding embers of mortality.

“Yes.”

His right arm reaches up, slightly toward her, but then he lets it fall limp back to his side.

“And you should have forgotten me long before now, Iki Hiyori.”

in which Iki Hiyori and the Yatogami encounter each other hundreds of years ago rather than yesterday; in which he is known only as the magatsukami; in which she cannot seem to shake the certainty that she was always meant to meet him.

Last but certainly not least, my favorite Noragami fic of all time. Historical Yatori AU, incredible writing, character development, a very chilling and creepy original villain, checks all of my boxes for things I want to read in a fic. I would (and will) recommend this a hundred times. Leave comments. Let Scarf know she is loved.

Also check out her entire AO3 because there’s a lot more Noragami I didn’t even cover. She writes all the best content and it’s all extraordinarily good.

Phew, I think that just about covers it! Hope you guys enjoy!

PS: If you’d like to see the 2020 additions, check out this post.

[academiablogs]

Speaking Fluent Writing

When learning a second language, we inevitably come upon some grammatical structure that eludes us. Often, it has no exact equivalent in our native tongue, so the rules—no matter how many times we read them—sound like nonsense. Instead, we find ways to talk around the rule, constructing labored sentences or even speaking piecemeal rather than sounding completely stupid. Ideally, as your fluency increases, you hear people speaking the rule often enough that it becomes second nature and you master it, too.

But sometimes, the thing avoided can become a taboo—a passed-down law obeyed like religion. It reminds me of Goya’s famous saying, “the sleep of reason produces monsters.” If you hide from something, fear of that presence will inevitably haunt you in your sleep, becoming magnified and monstrous. Even among native speakers of English, many refuse to learn the dreaded difference between “lie” and “lay,” and so spend the entire writing careers avoiding situations that require them.

You can probably see how this relates to writing, since writing isn’t just an act of language but of imagination. It requires linguistic fluency as well as on-the-spot translation between the world of ideas and symbols (the imagination) to the world of poetry and pragmatism (a story). For no matter how poetic a story or poem, it must also make sense; the reader has to be able to read and process it on the surface level of language before diving beneath the depths. However, telling a story requires a bewildering number of devices, voices, and poses. Mastering first and third person is hard enough, but what about utilizing free-indirect speech, or the paradox of showing vs. telling?

Only the greatest writers can shift gears between all these techniques and devices, so the rest of us generally drive the terrain we feel most suited for. I know many writers who are terrified of narration and write entire novels of dialogue, with only small connecting sentences for context. On the other hand, there are those who feel mood and scene is everything, and bury their characters’ interactions between vast valleys of brooding description. Sometimes, we do this for aesthetic reasons; more often, we do it out of fear, confusion, doubt, anxiety, or simply because it feels “right.”

For example, most of the books I fell in love with were old-fashioned novels that celebrate the omniscient (or near-omniscient) third-person narrator. I grew to love the ability of a narrator to see into anyone’s mind and report accordingly—but only if they felt like it. Otherwise they would play coy with the reader, teasing things out or dropping a narrative bomb when it was least expected. That’s how I wanted to write. 

Naturally, I read a fair amount of first-person narration, but I felt less comfortable inhabiting a story from such a limited perspective. It immediately excluded so many points of view, so many narrative strategies, and would force me to know a character intimately, so the narration doubled as his/her thought process. Whenever I attempted a first-person story, it sounded like a poor translation of third-person narration. I even found myself reading other people’s thoughts and expounding upon information the character couldn’t possibly know. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of: I scrapped the story or re-wrote the draft it in third-person. Problem solved.

However, this begs the question: if the way you solve writing problems is by pretending they don’t exist, are you serving the best interests of your story? What if a story makes more sense in first-person? Saying “sorry, I don’t do that” is a bit of a cop-out, since if I had to be honest with myself, it’s not for any philosophic convictions; I simply don’t feel I can pull off first-person convincingly. Of course, for most of my writing career, I couldn’t pull off anything convincingly. I only got better through practice and a desperate will to succeed.  

However, this improvement—like many writers—stopped short of fluency. I got satisfied with my ability to make a story sound more or less the way I wanted. A few early successes told me, subconsciously, that I was on my way to rewards and riches. So I hunkered down and decided to become really, really good at what I was already good at, rather than becoming great at the entire process. And that’s the true danger of becoming good at anything, from writing to playing an instrument: you settle for second best.

Even some very successful writers do this. You see writers who are a household name studiously avoiding certain techniques with superstitious zeal (I won’t name any names). And why not? You don’t have to be a great writer to become a successful writer, just as you don’t have to be a great speaker of French to find your way to the bathroom. In fact, even saying “bathroom!” enough times in English will find someone willing to show you the way (if only to get you shut up, you damn American!).

But the real writers among us (I see you cowering in the back; come forward!), want to do more than offer bathroom directions time and time again. We want to invent a new bathroom—or change the way you look at toilets forever! After all, do you want people to say behind your back, “oh, he writes good books, but he’s never written a first-person narrative to save his life,” or, “she’s sold a million books but she still can’t use lay or lie.” Of course not. You want to be a master; you want to be in full command of your material, and never lose a story for your own fearful inability to try something new.

So for your next story, or novel, or poem, identify the one thing you never do. Not the thing you dislike personally or find offensive artistically (no need to write graphic erotica), but the thing you know you’re avoiding out of the fear that it will expose your deepest insecurities. It might be something small, like using a semicolon, or it might be somewhat bigger, like never using male narrators. Whatever it is, tackle it head on. If nothing else, it will ensure that your next story or poem says something new, reaching into a bag of tricks you kept artfully locked on the shelf, with the words “break in case of emergency!”

A great chef one said that if you’re not learning new things you’re already dead as a chef—you’re just repeating yourself. So in the words of the great poet Yevgeni Yevtushenko, “don’t die before you’re dead.” Learn something new, write like a new person; or maybe, you’ll learn to write even more like yourself. Breaking a single taboo be just what you need to make your final breakthrough.

And to prove I practice what I preach, I’m working on my first short story written entirely in first-person. Stay tuned for details...

[equalstrashflavoredtrash]

One Pure Thought - 2

PART 1

a/n: i started just writing smut and then got carried away and made a story....

@beautifulramblingbrains @frecklefaceb @feminamortem @sharknadoslut @anditcametopass @pathybo @mimigemrose @societalfailure @captstefanbrandt @lostinthebeans @kenzieam @readsalot73 @lauraaan182 @beltz2016 @badassbaker​ @bluelassbird​ @gaia25​ @lilu46​ @maan2442 @bookgirlthings​ @guiltyissues​ @jaihardy​ 

warnings: it gets frisky towards the end

Eric X OFC // Divergent Trilogy

word count:  4,409

Awakened by the persistent knocking, Eric groaned and climbed out from under the covers. Crossing his apartment, he had a good idea who it was causing the racket.

"What do you want, Abs?" Eric snapped, opening the door a crack to find Abernathy, as he had suspected.

"Missed you in the gym this morning," his friend spoke in a cheery voice, obviously much more awake than he was.

"I got my workout last night." Eric shifted, adjusting the door so Abernathy was able see over his shoulder and spy the sleeping body underneath the sheets of Eric's bed.

"Nice," he nodded, accepting Eric's alabi. "I'll catch you later then."

"Yeah, later," Eric grumbled, shutting the door and shuffling back to his bed.

"Who was that?" Geiger's voice asked, muffled by the pillow. Eric shifted closer, rolling the half asleep girl onto her back before he made himself comfortable between her thighs.

"Just Abs," he murmured, kissing at her collarbone while he lifted her legs, prompting her knees to wrap around his waist.

"And you let him see me?" She was aghast, pushing on his shoulder, forcing him to raise his head and look at her.

"He couldn't tell it was you, just some girl passed out on my mattress." Eric rolled his eyes before returning to nipping at her skin.

"Cut it out," Geiger moaned as she absently linked her ankles, pinning him against her. She arched into his chest as he trailed his tongue along her jaw before biting her ear. She hummed, melting at his touch. He squeezed her ass, pulling her to him as he ground his half formed erection into the apex of her thighs. Shifting her head, Geiger captured Eric's lips with hers just as the alarm on her phone went off.

Her eyes snapped open at the familiar, albeit annoying, buzzing. Jerked back to reality, she quickly unwound her limbs from around Eric's torso and pushed him away, hopping out of bed to find her phone. Eric sat up, watching as she crossed to the coffee table in the middle of his open-plan apartment. Tapping the screen, she turned off the alarm and the calm silence of the morning was restored.

Pivoting, she began to walk towards the bed. Eric was sure she was going to climb back under him so they could finish what they'd started. He was not happy when she stopped midway, tugging on her underwear and lifting her dress from the wooden floor boards.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, rising from beneath the sheets as she shook out her garment. Eric had been the same way the night before.

After their first round Geiger stood up, stretching with a yawn before moving to grab his jacket, which laid slung over the back of the sofa. While she was fishing her panties out of the front pocket Eric suddenly stood up, crossing the room in two strides.

"I'm not done with you yet," he hissed in her ear as he lifted her and returned to his bed. Soon she found herself blissfully on her back, sandwiched between him and the mattress. That's how she spent the evening, between him and the bed, and the dresser, and the shower wall, and then the bed again, until they both finally succumbed to exhaustion in the early hours of the morning.

"Getting dressed. I need to go shower before work," Geiger stated before tugging the cotton fabric over her head.

"Call in sick and stay here with me." Surprising her, Eric grabbed at her waist, bringing her body to his. "Spend the day with me," he suggested in a low voice as he ran his nose along hers, resting so their foreheads were together.

"You know I can't do that," she whispered, placing her palms flat on his bare chest as she looked up to meet his gaze. "If we both disappear for the day, someone will notice," Geiger pointed out with a sigh. "That someone likely being Goya and I'd never hear the end of it if they caught us in bed."

Eric's jaw clenched, not wanting to admit she was right. He loosened his grip on her, finally allowing her to back away from him.

"Come back tonight, then." He stood with his arms crossed as he watched her bend over and tie her shoes, enjoying the way the back of her dress rode up.

"Not happening." Geiger shook her head as she straighten and righted her skirt, stating, "This has been fun but I have a boyfriend. Nothing more is going to happen between us," before leaving his apartment.

And nothing did happen ...for a while.

Eric spent his days in turmoil. He had expected fourteen nights of having Geiger to himself without interruption and now she wouldn't even look at him during breakfast.

She knew he was staring, she could feel his eyes on her like a cool breeze running up her spine, but she fought herself and refused to meet his gaze.

Eric tried to corner her, hoping to intercept her as she passed through the cavernous hallways on her daily routine but Geiger knew Eric better than he realized. She was two steps ahead of him, circumventing where he waited with alternate routes.

He tried visiting her at work, but to his misfortune she was almost always busy with customers. Maybe if it had been a stiff or two he could've butted in line but none of the stoney faced Candor would let him cut in front of them. By the time he had reached the checkout counter, Geiger had already gone on break.

The one place he knew she couldn't avoid him was her apartment.

So Eric had taken up proposing to stay in and drink rather than going out. "I don't feel like being around the crowds in the bars, let's just watch a movie at your place," Eric suggested to Goya at lunch. They agreed easily enough and for a few evenings the two of them hung out alone. It was a day or so later when Geiger finally poked her head out of her room while Eric was in the apartment.

"Mind if I join you guys?" she asked in a sleepy voice, curling up on the couch. She positioned herself on the far end of the sofa with her sibling between her and Eric. While this likely went unnoticed by Goya as being significant, Eric couldn't help but feeling like it was another cold rejection from her.

He did not like being slighted by her and was certain that if he had just had a few moments alone he could get what he wanted and convince her to join him in bed again. Geiger also realized this and that's why she had so adamantly evaded being alone with Eric for even a second.

When Goya eventually stood to use the bathroom, Eric jumped at the chance to question her. "You've been avoiding me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Geiger crossed her arms, refusing to return Eric's gaze.

"That's funny," he sneered, "Since I can't seem to get ten seconds alone with you." He continued to let his eyes burn into her, watching as she squirmed in her seat.

"And why is it so important you get ten seconds alone with me?" She rolled her eyes as she lolled her head to the side, the annoyance radiating off her in waves.

"You know why." He fought back a snarl as he spoke, his expression souring at her response.

Geiger sat motionless for a moment, her arms tense and wrapped across her chest. She clenched her jaw as she debated her response. "I told you nothing more was going to happen," she stated through gritted teeth as he seethed next to her. They could both hear the toilet flush from the other room and a moment later Goya walked in on their staring contest.

"I've changed my mind," Eric snapped as he stood up, grabbing his jacket from the chair, "I'm going to the Pit. You coming with?"

"Yeah sure," Goya shrugged, grabbing the keys from the hook next to the door before following Eric. "You good?" Geiger huffed in a slightly affirmative way, looking back to the tv as they closed the door behind themselves.

. .-. .. -.-. .- -. -.. -. . .. -.

"I'm getting ready to close up," Riley called from the other side of the counter as Geiger groaned and stood from her crouched position. She had finished stocking the shelves just in time. Gathering the empty cardboard boxes she crossed the tiled floor of the small shop, walking towards her co-worker, "No sign of Mr. Hot Grumpy-Face today."

"I should count my blessings," Geiger scoffed as she pulled at the glued flaps of the boxes, breaking them down flat before shoving them into the recycling bin.

"Why are you avoiding him anyway?" Riley leaned back, resting her elbows on the formica countertop and raising an eyebrow at Geiger while she grabbed the bin and dragged it out back. Upon return Riley stood in the same spot giving her the same look.

"We slept together, alright?" Geiger finally blurted out, "It was nice—okay, it was a lot more than nice, it was fucking awesome, but he's not my boyfriend."

"So?" Geiger continued to busy herself with tidying, ignoring Riley's gaze and questions. "Isn't infidelity like a thing in Dauntless? I thought it was no big deal to sleep with other people?"

"No, it's not normally," she sighed, standing up and letting her shoulders slump, "But River's not normal Dauntless, and I don't want to be the asshole who fucks him over."

"Even though you already have." Geiger shot daggers with her eyes at Riley for her honesty before she finished her sentence, "He just doesn't know that yet."

"Basically." Running her hands through her hair Geiger sighed, it was never fun hearing the truth, especially from some Candor.

"You should just cut your losses and fuck the guy you enjoy fucking," Riley suggested with a shrug, turning to face the till, preparing to count the day's profits.

"Easier said than done," Geiger mumbled under her breath as she pulled off her work apron and hung it on the clothes hook. "Okay, I'm finished, I'm going to head out."

"Hey, if you wanna get your mind off stuff, I'm going out drinking tonight with friends, you should join us," Riley offered, feeling slightly bad for ruining Geiger's mood. She was aware that other factions didn't always appreciate the blunt reality of Candor.

Geiger paused for a moment, turning the idea over in her head before nodding, "Yeah actually that'd be fun. I'd totally be up for that."

. .-. .. -.-. .- -. -.. -. . .. -.

Looking over her shoulder to the floor length mirror, Geiger smiled, pleased with the black romper she'd chosen to wear for the night. Paired with chunky platform heels, she felt confident and eager to go out dancing. Throwing her phone and wallet into her pockets, Geiger stepped out of her bedroom to find Goya and Eric sitting on the couch, each with a beer in hand.

"What you think?" she asked aloud, catching their attention before she did a quick twirl, the loose curls in her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she faced them again.

"Very nice, what's the occasion?" Goya asked, looking at her from over their shoulder while Geiger acted like she couldn't see Eric's jaw clench as he eyed the length of her shorts.

"Nothing special, just going drinking in Candor," she replied with a shrug while crossing the floor to gather her roomkeys.

"Who do you know from Candor?" Eric questioned abruptly, prompting Geiger to finally make eye contact with him.

"Riley, we work together at the shop," Geiger stated before sticking her tongue out at him. Though she meant it as a childish taunt, the action had quite a different effect on Eric. He felt something roar in his chest, like squirting lighter fuel on to a smoldering fire, watching her walk away to the front door.

"Not sure when I'll be back." Grasping the doorknob, she twisted her wrist and looked back at the pair of them, "So don't wait up."

. .-. .. -.-. .- -. -.. -. . .. -.

Stumbling into the apartment hours later and very drunk, Geiger regretted not telling her sibling to leave a light on for her. Still relatively new to the floor plan, she did not have a perfect mental map of the layout and obstacles between the entrance and her bedroom. Shuffling carefully, she moved her way toward the side table she knew was in the front hall. Geiger realized she'd overestimated her distance when her big toe slammed into the table leg.

With a string of curse words, she dove to catch the lamp that was jostled from its perch before the ceramic body met the cement floor and shattered. With a sigh of relief, Geiger remained crouched on her knees, clutching the lamp to her chest like it was a small child.

Gingerly placing the lamp back where it once sat, she reached for the switch and clicked the light on. Only it didn't turn on. Sliding her hand further up, she checked that the bulb was in place before assuming it must've come unplugged in the commotion. Swearing aloud to herself again, the drunk girl shuffled on her hands and knees back towards the door where she knew the plug was. Placing her ear to the ground, and wishing she had nightvision like a cat, she peered into the darkness beneath the bookcase that sat in front of the socket.

"Shit," she hissed, reaching blindly under the bottom shelf hoping she could feel the cord and plug it in by touch when suddenly a bright spot light turned on behind her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Eric grumbled, half awake as he grabbed his cellphone and turned on the flash light. He'd been sleeping soundly on the couch until Geiger had come home. He ignored her at first, thinking she'd just walk by and go to bed but apparently instead of doing that she had to crash into everything in her path while cursing at full volume. It wasn't until he'd sat up right and shone the light toward the front door, towards where he could hear her, that he noticed she was bent over on all fours with her head to the ground and ass in the air on full display. Eric's blood boiled as he damned his luck and she sat back on her heels to look over her shoulder at him.

"I'm just trying to turn the lamp on, asshole," she returned as she stood up and pulled her own phone from her pocket, switching on the light. She'd never say it aloud, but she felt like a fool for not thinking of it sooner. Geiger stepped forward, though she now had a light to see where she was walking she continued to swayed precariously, still stumbling in her platforms. Due to her her blurred vision and focus on not tripping, Geiger barely noticed as Eric rose. Hounding the end of the couch he moved next to her and encircled her waist with his arm, steadying her against himself.

"Let go of me," she whined, pushing on his forearm to no avail.

"No, you're so drunk you can barely walk," Eric pointed out, rolling his eyes, even if he knew that she couldn't tell in the dark.

"It's your fault," she countered, continuing to wiggle within his grasp in attempt to gain freedom, "It's all because of you and your stupid face." She punctuated the last word with a slap to his chest which hooked his attention.

"Oh really?" Eric drawled, amused by her drunken antics and childish behavior. "What does my stupid face have to do with you getting drunk?"

Geiger fumed as she stilled and looked up at him, "I went drinking hoping I could think about something other than sitting on your stupid face for a change!"

The corners of Eric's mouth slowly lifted upwards in a grin as he watched her, the blush in her cheeks rising in reaction to her proclamation. He reveled at seeing it register in her eyes what exactly she had admitted to him outloud.

"That can be arranged," he murmured quietly as he lifted his free palm to rest on the side of her neck, bringing his thumb to trace along her jaw bone, "but only if I get what I want first."

"Oh? And what do you want?" She spat with a defiant stare while still dropping her head back as his thumb pressed against her chin, guiding the angle of her neck. With the added height of her shoes, Geiger stood nearly eye level with Eric, but he still made sure she would bend to him.

"I want to make you pay for being a brat and ignoring me for two weeks," he hissed, his fingers flexing their grip on her as he spoke.

Surprising Eric, Geiger laughed. She pushed back on his chest once his hold relaxed, stepping away as she smirked at him, "You're the worst." Turning on her heel, Geiger stumbled across the dark living room towards her bedroom door, thankfully, hitting nothing on the way.

"Well?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to him across the dark room, "You said you wanted me alone for ten seconds. Are you going to join me or not?" Eric stalked across the floor, stopping just in front of Geiger who stood at the threshold of her room. With an impish smile, she reached forward, grabbing the waistband of his pants before backing up and pulling him into her space as she swung the door shut behind him.

Guiding him over the carpet she placed her palm on his chest, lightly pushing him to sit on the edge of her mattress. Eric leaned back, propping himself up with his hands resting behind him on the comforter while he watched her, eyeing the sway of her hips. Crossing her arms, Geiger reached towards the spaghetti straps of her romper, slowly pushing them over the curve of her shoulders, putting on a show for him. She saw how Eric's eyes followed the black cotton as it fell to the floor once she lowered her arms, leaving her nude save for a pair of lace underpants.

Geiger bit her lip, excited by the fact she had his full attention. Gathering her hair, she secured it with an elastic tie before resting her palms along his thighs and dropping to her knees. With a gentle nudge she guided his legs apart so she could move closer in between. Grabbing at his waistband again, she made sure to snake her fingers under the band to his boxers, too. He lifted his hips, aiding her while she removed the garments.

Looking up at him through her lashes she realized Eric's expression could only be described as a self satisfied, shit-eating grin. He gazed at her on the ground below him. Reaching forward, Geiger wrapped her fingers around his half formed erection and began to pump her fist. Sticking her tongue out she moved forward and maneuvered her head so the breadth of her tastebuds ran along the bottom of his shaft from base to tip. She could hear his suppressed groan as she watched his adam's apple jump.

Shifting his seating, Eric reached forward, running his fingers along her hair before grabbing her ponytail once she wrapped her lips around his head. He let out a guttural moan as she sank forward taking more of his length into her mouth. He felt a sharp scrape, causing him to hiss in pain. Instantly he tightened his fingers around her hair and gave a forceful yank to let her know he was dissatisfied. Heeding his warning, Geiger returned to her former ministrations, hollowing her cheeks while sucking as she pulled back and avoided using her teeth.

"Fu-uck," Eric mumbled as she continued to bob, cupping his balls in one hand and stroking the rest of him that her mouth couldn't cover. Letting his head roll back, he reveled in the sensation of her warm mouth around his cock. His hips jerked involuntarily, hinting to Geiger he was close to release. With her final pull, she lowered her teeth again, letting them drag along the entire length of the most sensitive part of his anatomy.

Eric responded immediately. Hunching forward he yanked her away, pulling her at the base of her ponytail as he forced her to bend backwards in a contorted posture. "The fuck is your problem?" he snapped, leaning in as she gave him a dopey, drunken smile.

"It's hot when you're angry," she giggled, still resting her palms in his knees, trying to keep her balance as he held her in the uncomfortable position.

After tightening his grip on her hair, Eric spat on her face. Still smiling, Geiger snaked her tongue to the corner of her mouth, attempting to lick up what she could of the glob of saliva on her cheek. Eric, who had already been so close to finishing before she bared her teeth, nearly came just watching her now.

With a primal noise akin to a growl, Eric lift Geiger up by her hair. She moved with his motions, wrapping a hand around his wrist to relieve the pain in her scalp as he tossed her face first onto the bedding. "I should fucking hate you," he snarled, entangling his fingers with the waistband of her panties before ripping them away.

"But you do~n't," she replied in a sing song voice as she brought her elbows forward, bracing herself to lift her bottom and wiggle her hips. She yelped at the stinging contact of Eric's palm against her cheek. He slapped her ass again but Geiger continued to drunkenly giggle, thoroughly enjoying his ire.

Moving above her, Eric clamped one hand around her shoulder, pushing her upper body further into the duvet as he pawed at her thighs. Making room for himself, he came to to settle between her knees, the head of his erection resting in the cleft of her bottom.

"I don't want you to enjoy this," he seethed in her ear while gripping his shaft to line up with her entrance. Geiger couldn't fight back the moan that slipped past her lips as he sank into her from behind.

. .-. .. -.-. .- -. -.. -. . .. -.

Ultimately, Geiger was not surprised when she woke up in bed alone.

The night before she had dozed off curled up with Eric,,, her head resting on his chest. She enjoyed the slow rise and fall of his breath as he gently stroked her hair. There was nothing either wanted to say to the other. Simply existing in their moment together was enough. They feared any sound would break the spell, shattering the idyllic bubble of three AM that had settled over them.

So they stayed silent, laying naked with limbs still entangled in the bed linens. Though it felt to the pair as if time stood still in the dark of her bedroom, sure enough morning would come and they would have to face the world, pretending that the events of the previous evening had never occurred.

Once Eric could hear the light snores of Geiger's slumber, he carefully freed himself from her embrace and snuck away, returning to his apartment.

. .-. .. -.-. .- -. -.. -. . .. -.

"Missed you this morning," Goya stated, slamming their tray onto the table across from Eric. Geiger was right behind her sibling, taking her usual seat to their left. "I thought we were going for a run at dawn?"

"Yeah, uh," Eric stammered for a moment as he dipped his spoon into the porridge. "I got a booty call last night after you crashed." He took a bite of the hot cereal as everyone greeted Abernathy who settled into his seat at the table.

"Yeah? Same girl as last time?" Goya's eyes brightened with curiosity about Eric's new fling who he had so carefully kept a secret.

"This the broad I saw in your bed last week?" Abs questioned, joining the conversation as he munched on a piece of crisp bacon.

Eric cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at Geiger. "Yeah, same girl," he grunted before focusing his attention on his food.

"You've seen her? What's she look like?" Goya pressed hoping to satiate their curiosity and gain some information that Eric would not give.

Abernathy shrugged as he reached for the metal carafe in the middle of the table. "Donno really, hard to tell from across the room, she was passed out. Had longish brown hair and looked skinny, though," he explained as he poured himself a cup of orange juice.

"I think you just described half of the girls in Dauntless," Goya grumbled, unsatisfied with the answer. "Hell, by that description it could've been Geiger in his bed." Eric felt his stomach drop at the words and Geiger coughed mid sip, bringing her hand to her mouth to keep from spraying backwashed oj over her breakfast.

Before either of them could respond, stating the ridiculousness if such an insinuation, the attention of nearly everyone in the mess hall was drawn to the doorway. A large group of soldiers entered the room, each still wearing most of their tactical uniforms in contrast with the rest of the room who were eating breakfast in casual t-shirts.

They dispersed slightly, some heading to queue in line for food as others moved to find their friends among the tables. Once Geiger spotted River she jumped out of her seat and hurried over to him.

Flinging her arms around his neck, Geiger greeted her boyfriend in an almost unnecessarily flamboyant fashion. He caught her easily enough, stepping back to brace the impact of her against his chest before he brought his lips to hers. River spun Geiger around as he clutched her to him, cooing in her ear about how much he'd missed her. The tall ginger was so engrossed with their reunion he missed the sly expression Geiger shot over his shoulder, locking eyes with Eric.

Eric scoffed as he broke the connection, turning back to the two still seated with him, "You really wanna meet my new girl? Let's all go out to The Pit tomorrow, I'll bring her along." Both Goya and Abernathy seemed pleased with his suggestion and now Eric had twenty-four hours to find some brunette to show off to his friends.

PART 1

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