#they are SORT OF sorted by most to least favourite but not really . every single one of these is good to me . nothing but bangers !

[bleedeverywhere]

cause it’s almost the end of the year …. here’s my favourite front-to-back album listens from this year . smile :]

[mrchiipchrome]

Misophonia

W.C.- 2.7k

Happy birthday to meeeeee

——————

It was no secret in the world of women’s football that you and Kyra Cooney-Cross were everyone’s unofficial little sisters. The younger of the two, you, had been moved up from the Arsenal academy at the same time that Kyra joined, and the unfamiliarity of the new team that you were suddenly thrown into made you two bond fast. Really fast.

Within 5 minutes of meeting the other, you had managed to plan at least 4 pranks to perform on the girls. Through Kyra, you also became much closer to the aussies of the team, just a sort of natural consequence of hanging around the Aussie all day. She was like your older, but just as mature as you, sister.

By month 3 of knowing each other, you and Kyra had managed to find every single button to press to make the other go completely mad. For Kyra, the main thing that set her off was when you tapped your feet against the floor repeatedly. For you it was whenever anyone made any type of noise with their mouths, with the obvious exception of speaking.

It just made you so irrationally mad, especially when someone was chewing all up in your ear, the sound so revolting that you often shouted for them to get away. Most of the team had learned their lessons already and knew not to even try to chew loudly near you, as you’d put your headphones on and ignore them for most of the day.

Kyra however, being the annoying little shit (lovingly) that she was, continued to do it every single second that she could, her favourite being when she knew that you couldn’t do anything about it, like in meetings.

She’d sit in the seat right behind you, leaning her head forward so that her chin would rest against your shoulder, and start to snack loudly on a granola bar or smacking her gum. The only thing you could do was sit there and take it, clenching your fist and wondering what it was you’d send in the text to Mini later that evening.

When Kyra would get told off by her team mom later that night she always looked at you, moving her thumb over her throat, telling you that you were dead.

But yet she kept on doing it, and you kept on telling Mini, it happened so often in fact that you too created a special bond with the older woman, her becoming a somewhat mother to you too. You always joined in on their facetime calls, Harper greatly appreciating you too.

Mini liked that Kyra had someone to goof around with at Arsenal, even if it did happen to be a 16 year old kid.

And as much as you liked and worked well with Kyra, not a single adult at Arsenal thought it was a good idea for you two to live with each other, no matter how much you begged and pleaded with them. Instead you were sent to live with Beth and Viv, whilst Kyra got her own apartment. That didn’t stop you from having sleepovers once a week however.

—------

Kyra breathing loudly directly beside your ear is the first thing you notice as you wake up from your nap in the community room at Arsenal, all groggy and confused, yet already annoyed by the girl’s incessant need to irritate you.

“Man, get the fuck out my ear!” Your voice is all scratchy and deep as you shout at the other girl, annoyance at her actions showing clearly on your face. More than a few heads snap up to look in your direction, quickly looking away when they notice the situation you find yourself in, many of them already knowing what the Aussie was doing.

“Awe is wittle baby Y/n a bit cranky from their nap?” Kyra antagonizes, trying to fuel the fire that was sure to start if she continued.

“You do remember that I know where you live? I can easily smother you in your sleep.” The girl’s knew to separate the two of you when the threats started flying, knowing that it could end with you two on the floor, wrestling or trying to strangle the other.

Alessia put her arm around a smiling Kyra’s waist, pulling her away from you even as she continued to breathe loudly, annoying you all the way from across the room. Viv sat down next to you on the bean bag, looking slightly irritated at your little outburst. She knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you’d been working with her on how to regulate your feelings.

“Y/n, we don’t threaten our friends, even when they’re being annoying. How about you go and apologise to Kyra and we’ll go get you some ice cream?” The dutchie was one of your many adoptive mothers in the squad, one of the more prominent ones as she knew exactly the pressure put on you as a young superstar in the making. She just wanted to help, often doing so by coming over with dinner for you and Kyra when you have your sleepovers, making sure that you didn’t trash your diets too much.

Looking down to the floor as you walk over to the older girl, she smiles at you mischievously like she knew exactly what it was you were doing. She knew that you’d been forced by your mom to apologize to her and she was enjoying the process of you going through all the stages of grief before getting to her.

Looking her in the eye, she sees the playful hate in your gaze, she already knew that you didn’t hate her but instead having to apologize for something that she caused.

“I’m sorry Kyra” Lowering your voice, she sees you look down at her in amusement. “I hope you know that I’m only doing this for the ice cream.” The Australian gasps in mock shock at your statement, but mostly at the fact that you’re allowed to get ice cream when she isn’t.

“VIV?! Why is Y/n getting ice cream and not me?” She catches the attention of the entire team with her bold accusation, most if not all of them rolling their eyes at her actions.

“Because Y/n doesn’t start fights, and she’s apologizing for threatening you.” Viv joins the others in rolling their eyes, taking hold of your shoulders as you make your way over to her, pulling you into a side hug.

With your backs to the young Aussie, neither of you notice the way she’s rushing towards you two, ready to absolutely throw herself onto you. She comes in with an awkward angle, her legs wrapping around both you and Vic’s waists, her arms locking around your necks, nearly choking you both out. Her head slots into the space between you and Viv’s heads.

Luckily enough for every Arsenal women’s fan ever, there’s a photographer there to capture the looks of absolute horror on you and the Dutch woman’s face and the unignorable grin on the Australian’s.

“Kyra Cooney-Cross get off right this second or I swear to god I will contact Katrina personally.” Viv comes off more than a little threatening, her voice deadly calm as she speaks to the younger girl. Kyra frowns playfully and slides down you and Viv’s excessively tall bodies, her feet touching the floor after a few seconds.

“What do they feed you dutchies? You need to stop being so tall, it’s annoying.” The short girl looks at you angrily when you pat her head like she was some sort of dog, waiting for a treat. She slaps your hand away when it comes down to pet her again and the only response she gets is a shrug from you as Viv drags you away to her car.

Only minutes later Kyra’s phone pings with a notification from instagram, seeing the ‘yourinstagram tagged you in a post’ had her stressing out. When she looked at the story you had tagged her in, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, it was a selfie of you and Viv with ice creams in your hands, you with the biggest smile ever on your face and Viv looking slightly fed up with you.

The caption you’d typed out was ‘revenge is best served cold, right @/kyracooneyx’, she reposted your story to her own, typing out a simple ‘I hate you’. But with your quick thinking and amazing humor, you quickly reply with your own story, a caption reading ‘tell that to the ice cream you didn’t get’.

Kyra couldn’t even lie and say that it wasn’t funny, the little giggle she let out an indicator of how she enjoyed the little back and forth.

————————————————

Everyone in the team agreed that the decision to put you and Kyra in the same car on the road-trip across the country was a bad idea. They knew that it would be torture, Kyra would chew in your ear, or simply just breathe loudly next to you, making you really fucking irritated. You would constantly touch her, poking at her like you weren’t afraid of losing your fingers.

The unfortunate person having to sit next to you and Kyra during the entire ride this time was none other than Alessia Russo, someone who really just wanted to sleep the entire 8 hour ride and skip your bullshit, obviously that didn’t happen.

“WHO LET KYRA HAVE SNACKS? I’m going to kill you.” Alessia sat to your left, rubbing her temples at the already growing headache, Kyra sat to your right, a sucker in her mouth and three loud crinkly bags of crisps in her lap. You were in the middle seat, a frankly uncomfortable seat seeing as you were the tallest in the entire car, knees bent inwards trying to fit your long legs between the seats.

“Yeah, Viv did you not ban snacks so that this wouldn’t happen?” Beth questions the forward, who meets Kyra’s guilty gaze in the rearview mirror, looking at her sternly. Viv sighs like she knew it would happen before reaching her hand back and asking for Kyra’s snacks. When she begrudgingly hands them over, you look at her with a huge grin on your face.

“Thank you pa, you’re my hero, saving me from the evil supervillain ready to chew in my ear.” Viv gets a little embarrassed and emotional at you calling her pa, the Dutch name for father you had nicknamed her was something you only called her in private.

“Aww Vivi, did you get a bit embarrassed?” Beth teases her girlfriend gently, tugging lightly at her dark red cheek. It was lucky you’d stopped at a red light, otherwise Viv would’ve probably crashed the car.

All of a sudden, when you’re distracted by Beth and Viv interacting, you hear a couple of loud chews of what sounds like at least 6 sticks of gum. The way you recoil is almost instant, throwing your body into Alessia’s open arms, the woman glaring at Kyra for doing that, AGAIN. Alessia liked cuddling you though so it wasn’t all that bad.

She definitely can’t complain when you fall asleep in less than 5 minutes either, though having to give Kyra a stare down as she tried to tickle your sides definitely wasn’t a highlight of her day.

Within 25 minutes of your departure from the training grounds, Kyra was already complaining about needing to pee, only answering with a shrug and a simple ‘I didn’t need to go then’ when asked why she didn’t go at home.

Viv sighs as she stops at the gas station in the middle of nowhere, Alessia waking you up so that you too could go to the toilet.

“Oh for fucks sake Kyra, you don’t need all that candy. I swear I’m more of an adult than you are.” You told the Australian girl as you came into the gas station, moving towards the bathroom. It looked like you could get every STD possible from simply being in there.

When you exited it was with a grossed out expression, that was until you spotted the slushy machines lined up against the wall. You lit up like a child on christmas morning when you spotted it, quickly filling a cup whilst you commanded her to get you a sprite, the cashier taking a quick peek at you bouncing up and down in anticipation of your drink.

After you paid, you instructed Kyra to pour about half the sprite into the slushy cup, letting her taste it after she’d promised on her mothers life not to make any sound.

“That’s delicious, where did you learn to do that?” She questions you, moving to buy her own slushy and sprite.

“I don’t know, I just did it once and it tasted great. Now you better hurry up because I think Viv is going to kill us if we’re not in the car soon.” With that, Kyra hurries up.

You’re both in the car in record time, all the actual adults in the car’s eyes widening at the half full slushy glasses in your hands.

Only a few minutes later, both you and Kyra are in full on sugar rush mode, singing along with the song on the radio loudly, swaying in your seats as you pretend you’re on the big stage somewhere. They’re all pleasantly surprised when you belt out the riff to Keyshia Cole’s Love, it being legitimately good.

As were Alessia’s instagram followers, the girl posting a video of you singing like you’d just had your heart broken, well that was until you were interrupted by Kyra snacking loudly right next to your ear.

“LOOOOOOVE NEVER KNEW WHAT I WAS MISS- KYRA GET THE FUCK OUT MY EAR.” She does look a little sheepish as she does it this time, pretty clearly not even registering that she was chewing with her mouth open.

Though she doesn’t stay sheepish for long, just like you don’t stay mad for long, because ‘I want it that way’ by the backstreet boys suddenly came on the radio, and that was always you and Kyra’s karaoke song.

It only took you a few more songs for the sugar crash to hit, you and Kyra suddenly going from duetting on songs to snoring loudly in the backseat.

Luckily enough for everyone in the car you managed to stay asleep through the whole ride, only waking up a few times to tell Kyra to ‘get the fuck out my ear’.

Literally everyone is confused when you turn up to the camping site, half asleep and clinging to Kyra tightly, Beth soon taking you from the younger girl so that she could start helping to set up the tents.

“They didn’t cause too much trouble, did they? I know how they can be.” Kim comes up to stand beside Beth, who shakes her head diligently.

“No, they slept most of the ride, they were both drinking some slushy and then had a sugar crash after singing for half an hour.” Beth smiles at you tenderly, the motherly affection clearly something she’d picked up from her own mother.

“Aw well that’s good then.” Kim says quietly, noticing you drooling slightly with your eyes half open, looking like those orange cats you always showed her.

———————

“Kyra if you don’t get the fuck out my ear I will kill you.” It wasn’t even her fault that she was sniffly, she’d caught something from Harper at camp and when you asked if you could come over for your sleepover, she didn’t hesitate.

She looked at you sadly, like she was heartbroken by your insensitive words. It makes you sad to see her like that, so you quickly bring her into your arms, asking for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry Ky Ky, how about I make you some soup yk feel better?” She nodded wholeheartedly at your words, sitting on the counter as you made your famous soup.

And even though you had to keep yourself from being angry at her every single second, you wouldn’t trade being at Kyra’s home cooking for her for anything.

[stargazedwinchester]

Soft Sounds | Dean

Summary: Dean mocks you for listening to nature sounds/lo-fi music while you sleep.

Based off of this request here, thank you! <3

Word count: 996

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

Sleeping with any sort of noise has always been so comforting for you, having to live with the loud sounds of the world, all of the trauma you've endeavoured keeps you awake at night, memories creeping back from the most horrific times in your life.

You bought yourself your own little white noise machine a week ago, it makes multiple different sounds, and your favourites are lo-fi music and rain/thunder sounds. It's not every night that you have to use this, though, but it really does help. Especially with sleeping alone, your brain loves to play tricks on you during your quietest hours.

Tonight, you turn on your machine, clicking the button on top to change which sound you'd prefer to hear tonight. Your door is slightly ajar, knowing that the brothers were in the kitchen sharing a couple of beers and catching up. You had already told them you're going to have an early night for once and try to catch up on a lot of sleep you've missed out on recently. Doing this could probably help your awful sleep schedule.

You change into your pyjamas, a t-shirt and shorts combo that you threw on from the night before. Trying to look good while you slept is never the first thought since you literally live with two men who couldn't give any less of a crap, also, you're not dating either of them. You climb into bed and throw the covers over you, moving your hair out of your face, and lay on your side. Scrolling through your phone, you try to focus on the sounds coming from your machine, and within minutes, you're knocked out.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

As Sam and Dean call it a night, Sam stays to watch a movie in the main room, whilst Dean makes his way down toward the bedrooms. He notices your bedroom door is still slightly open, and he assumes you're awake.

"Hey, Y/-" He pauses, seeing you're fast out with your phone screen lit up, the lights still on and some noise coming from a weird-looking radio. He frowns, not knowing what is going on. He very quietly makes his way into your bedroom, and locks your phone, placing it on your bedside table. He dims the lights as he pads on over to your radio. "What the Hell is this?" He asks himself, keeping his voice just above a whisper. He glances at the tiny screen that presents what's playing. "She sleeps to this?" He scoffs, and a small grin appears on his face. He looks back at you, huffing. "This is such a Y/N thing to have." He says, standing back up and glancing over at you. Why would she ever own something like this? He thought to himself. It's stupid.

Your positioning in bed makes Dean chuckle to himself. You quite literally take up the whole bed, sprawled out like a starfish. It's mostly funny to him because of how cute you look when you're completely conked out. Your hair in your face, your shirt slightly riding up your torso from the amount of times you've tried to get comfy. "Hold on, is that my shirt?" He laughs quietly, admiring how natural you are.

Dean usually goes for the typical blonde, blue-eyed type of girl. The ones that show that they know they're sexy, that they can get any man they desire, but you - you were different. You never gave a damn about how you looked. If someone liked you, you'd make sure they get every single side of you, every single flaw and weakness. Having Dean see you completely barefaced and look like you just collapsed on your bed was the least of your worries.

Dean's gaze hovers over you for another minute or so, he catches himself smiling, noticing how comfy you are. You shuffle, which scares him a little, panicking that you're going to wake up to him watching you sleep.

"Dean?"

"Y-yeah?" He whispers, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"What are you doing in here?" You groan, wiping your hair out of your face, barely opening your eyes. "I um, heard your little radio thing and... I got curious." He says, an awkward smile appearing on his full lips. He reaches up and scratches the back of his head. You hum quietly in agreement with what he said. Whether Dean understood or not, it didn't matter. "Are you staying?" You mumble, shuffling yourself to the side to make more room. You quietly pat the side of the bed, inviting Dean to join you.

His heart skipped a beat. Sharing a bed with the only girl who genuinely liked him for him? It's almost unbelievable.

"Are you sure? I can go back to my room-"

"Dean, just get in." You say, pulling the covers open for him. His eyes lit up and the smile on his face looked as if it had been slapped on. He takes off his flannel shirt revealing his dark grey t-shirt underneath, and also taking his jeans off down to his underwear. He gently sits down on your bed, ensuring there's still enough space for you. He keeps his space, though, not wanting to give any wrong ideas. "Why were you looking at my machine?" You say, and Dean grins. "It looks weird. Why do you sleep with it?"

"It's to help me sleep."

"It's to help me sleep," He mocks, shutting his eyes. "Just sleep in silence, it's not that hard." He adds, and you huff. "So funny." You grin, slowly moving closer toward him. "It's nice though, really nice..." He trails, his eyes are fully shut, and his body is relaxing. "Come here," He says, adjusting himself so he's lying slightly above you, and you move in to lay on his chest, your leg intertwined with his. He keeps his arm rested above his head, his other hand caressing your hair. "This is nice," He mumbles, almost instantly drifting to sleep.

[elexuscal]

The "Top" fics in fandom are not the "Best"

I've seen a couple of posts here in there implying that the ways to find the best fics in fandoms are just to go to ao3, and sort by 'Most Kudoses', 'Most Bookmarks', 'Most Comments', etc. I've also seen some folks say they feel like their fics are failures if they don't make it to the front page(s), or at least near there.

But the simple fact: this is not true.

Now, I'm not saying that the top-rated fics in a fandom are bad.

Far from it! They're often very popular for a reason. Well written, fun dynamics, cool plots, etc. A lot of my own favourite fics have made it to the first page when you sort by "Most Kudos"-- but then, a lot of mine also haven't.

Why?

Because those selections are inherently biased.

What do I mean by that? Just that there are other factors influencing what stories accumulate the most comments/kudoses/etc in a fandom, meaning none of these serve as a neutral metric of quality.

I'm going to explain some of these biases briefly, just so folks get a sense of what I mean:

Age Bias This, I think, is the easiest to grasp. A fic that is three years old just has had more time to gain views than a fic that's three days old. Also, consider that pretty much any fandom needs time to grow. If you're in the first days/weeks/months of a fandom, there probably just isn't that much content being made. If there's only 10 fics on the archive, then 11th one stands out. It'll get a lot of attention. But if that same fic were to come out a couple years later, when there were 11 fics published in a single day, well, people are more likely to miss it. If you doubt me, take a look at the front page of 'Most Kudos' for a fandom of your choice. You'll probably see a lot of the stories there are on the older side- and this is exactly why.

Multi-Chapter Bias There are a lot of ways people find new fics to read, and one of the most basic is just: look at the front page of the most recent updates. Now, this way of sorting fics is exactly what it sounds like. A list of fics in order of when they were most recently posted/updated. But, obviously, if a fic has multiple chapters, it's going to appear on that front page way more often. A 50 chapter epic has 49 more chances to get seen this way than a one-shot. This issue becomes even more intense when you consider the Most Comments sort option. For a one shot, a person is probably likely to only comment once. Maybe if they really love the story and revisit, they'll leave a second or third. But multi-factor fics? By design, people come back every update. And that means a lot of people leave comments every single time. (Or at the very least, after big plot developments and twists!) This is what leads to long-running multi-chapter epics dominating the 'Most Comments' rankings in most fandoms.

Popular Pairing Bias Again, this is just obvious. Some pairings are more popular than others. A rare-pair fic can be just as soulful, hot, and well-written as a story featuring the fandom's powerhouse fic, but if only 30 people are interested, well... [shrug] Less people will click on it, kudos it, and leave a comment. To a lesser extent, you can expand this to any trope. 'Coffee Shop AUs' just seem to be more popular than, say, '1930s Mobster AUs'. That effects what tags people search, and what fics they find. But shipping is such an important element of many fandom cultures I thought it would be the most illustrative.

Positive Feedback Loop Bias And honestly, this is maybe the real clincher. Because I've established some of the things that can cause a story to start gathering lots of kudos, comments, and bookmarks in a first place. But once that starts, you get a positive feedback loop going. Because what's one of the first things a person does when they're looking for good stories in a fandom? They sort by 'Most Kudos'. And then they select the first story on the list, and they like it. So they leave a comment and kudos and... Yeaaaah.

So... What do we do about it?

Well. Nothing really. This isn't really a problem. It's just something to be aware of.

Any attempt to put metrics on something as subjective as art is going to fall short. So don't go rating the quality of your own stories about how well it performs, and don't go chasing those coveted top spots. You'll have a lot more fun if you just write stuff that you enjoy, make some friends, and recognise a lot of factors influence fanfic statistics beyond just quality.

Searching via most comments/kudoses/bookmarks remains one of the easiest and quickest ways to start diving into a new fandom. It's often the first things I do, and found stories I love that way.

That said: I highly encourage you to search for fics beyond just that method. Here are some of my suggestions if you want to figure out ways to get started:

Search up Fanfic Rec Lists. Lots of people put them on their blogs, and websites like TVTropes even have that as a whole feature

Ask for fic recs! Seriously! Post about it in the fandom's tumblr tag, join Discord communities, etc, and just say, "Hey, I'd love to read a story where... [insert the general themes, characters, or plot points you like". People will be EXCITED to share.

Search by specific tags Like, do you really, really love time loops? Search the 'Time Loop' tag in your favourite fandoms. A lot of specific tropes, AUs, etc. are canonized, so you can find a lot of stuff up your alley that way

Browse the most recently updated fics Yeah, I know, it's old school. But seriously, you can find some awesome stuff there-- including stories from new authors just starting out, who could really use a boost!

And hey... if you find some stories you like... Consider writing some fic recommendation lists of your own. Spread the love!

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Chapter two: low expectations.

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne

A/N: sorry for the late update, but imma catch you guys up 🫡

previous chapter | next chapter

Over the next few days you manage to get your pre-reading all done and dusted.

You can’t help but already feel exhausted by the amount of things that you have to juggle at university.

Just as soon as you were completed with one task, you groaned at the thought of your long list of remaining errands. Bills, assignments, grocery shopping and your shifts at the cafe were all piled on top of you constantly, not to mention your attempt to attend your lectures and classes, double checking that they were the right ones.

But the most stressful by far was trying to avoid your mother’s calls, which occurs at least twice a day. As of recently, you had thought that you were safe, coming up with excuses left, right and center.

At least that was before you had seen a missed call from your dad this morning.

That’s how you know that you’re really in the shits.

You’re gonna have to come up with something. And in quick timing.

But for now, you’re going to have to sideline your personal dilemmas.

With your new job at the cafe, you have no choice but to remain consistent with your routine, that is of course, if you want your new job to last.

After weeks of rejection or rather, the lack of replies, you had managed to secure a job at your roommate’s favorite cafe spot.

And by secure you mean that you had sort of lied about having experience in a cafe previously.

You didn’t entirely lie…just exaggerated the truth a little bit.

This was one of the only jobs that had replied to you out of a whole stockpile and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. Not under any circumstances.

You did have the experience of watching and observing what your classmate did at her family owned cafe whilst you were on the till for a few minutes.

But nonetheless, what’s so hard about making coffee? Anyone can do this shit. It’s okay if you’re learning on the job, doesn’t everyone? Currently, you succeed in trying to rotate between keeping track of orders and making drinks as well as trying not to get in MJ’s way too much.

But you were handling it to the best of your abilities. Even if that did mean messing up a few of your customers' orders every once in a while. MJ had said nothing about it so far which means that you're in the green light.

For now.

“You really should be getting some sleep, don’t let your first year knock you out before midterms.” She acknowledges, elbowing you slightly.

“I kno–” you barely finish your sentence, another yawn coming out of nowhere.

“See?” She hums, finishing off an order for the previous customer. “You need some beauty sleep.”

She’s referring to your bruised under eye bags that have started to appear. Ultimately, the results of you staying up till midnight yesterday to finish off an assignment. You had only managed to get a few hours of sleep before waking up in time for your 6am shift.

“I also need money, but we can’t have it all can we MJ?” you note, keeping your tone light before you move on to serve another customer.

You’ve only been on shift for a couple of hours but you think you’re coping well so far. MJ forewarned you about the morning lecture rush hour. You guessed that it was soon by glancing at the old clock hung up on the wall, indicating that it was just after 8:30 am. Students continued to spill in and out of the cafe, the bell above the front door continuously ringing in your ears.

A small line had begun to queue up and you swiftly moved through them with ease. As your next customer came up to the counter, your face lit up at the sight of a familiar face.

“Oh hey stranger–” you begin, recognising the same grueling face that you had seen last week bore into you. But you barely get a chance to finish your sentences before he cuts you off sharply.

“Coffee. Black.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you tap his order into the machine, immediately sensing his disgruntled aura. By the expression on his face, you can tell that he doesn’t seem up for teasing.

He seems…frustrated? Or maybe even upset?

“Name?”

“Miguel.”

You can’t tell whether he’s cranky because it’s 8am in the morning or rather that you failed to notice this the last time you saw him. Either way, it makes you a little dazed. Perhaps he wasn’t a morning person. You understood that because you were the complete same. Taking his name, you brush him off instead hoping that your coffee will cheer him up.

You inform him of the price and he swipes his card without a second glance. He leaves to take a seat in one of the corners of the cafe which just so happens to be the only part of the cafe that wasn’t so overwhelmed with customers.

It’s not long before you head over there yourself with his order.

“Here’s your black coffee.” you say, setting it down in front of him. Hastily, you’re about to run off to prepare your next order before his words stop you.

“I ordered a black coffee. Not a latte.”

You turn around abruptly, realizing your full mistake. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“Are you new here or just incapable of making a simple cup of black coffee?” Miguel interrupts, his tone laced with vexation.

“Who do you think you’re–”

Your outrage comes to a halt by the sound of your name being called by MJ. You glance over your shoulder and notice her point towards an ever growing queue of customers. Shit, you don’t have time to cuss him out.

Taking a deep breath, you make the decision to be the bigger person, after all it’s like what your manager Steve said…

‘ The customer is always right.’

“I’ll bring it over for you, m’sorry.” you apologize again, rubbing at your forehead, suddenly overwhelmed with the pressure. With sweat beading at your brows, you look over to see a small queue beginning in front of the till again.

MJ throws you a hurried glance, a look which you know means ‘hurry the fuck up and make these orders.’

You end up taking longer than five minutes to return back to him, run ragged with the new orders of coffees, teas, lattes, macchiatos and hot chocolates that continue to pile up.

“Here you go, sorry about that.” You place his new and correct drink in front of him.

“No worries.”

You’re almost taken aback by his response. First he snaps at you and now he’s telling you not to worry about it? God, he was so confusing.

“Enjoy.”

You think that you hear a mutter of ‘thanks’ leave his mouth but you don’t turn back to hear his words clearly. Yet… you can’t exactly keep away.

For some reason your brain keeps lingering towards a burning question which has rattled your mind all through the past week. Giving in to your temptations, you end up turning around and prompt Miguel with another question.

“How did you know ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was set in the 19th century?”

“Huh?” He glances up from his phone, his thumb paused in his mindless scrolling.

“Last time, when I saw you in the library. You knew it was set in the 19th century.”

“I didn’t.'' Miguel huffs, and your eyes can help but notice the size of his biceps. You estimate that they’re bigger than your fucking hands. “It was an estimated guess.”

“Really? You don’t seem too-”

“Listen.” Miguel quips, his sharp tone suddenly returning, causing your voice to trail off midway through your sentence. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he speaks. “I’m going to try and say this in the nicest way possible, but I’m really not in the mood for some crap about your literature degree, okay? I really couldn’t care less.”

Ouch.

Your expression drops and you’re immediately aware of the distance between the two of you.

He’s right. You barely know him. He’s just a guy who just so happened to be there at one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. “Right, sorry.”

You’re about to leave his table before he stops you…again.

“Y’know I ought to tell your manager that you messed up my order.” Miguel begins, continuing to scroll on his phone, not bothering to even look up at you. “This is a very reputable cafe and if you start slacking on the job then…”

“Then what?” You question. “Are you trying to threaten me with a bad review?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say threaten is the right word but…now that you say that perhaps I should write one.”

Your stomach drops at his words. “Oh, you fucking wouldn’t.”

He smirks, still peering down at his phone. “Maybe I would.”

“Bet.”

“Don’t start betting on things that you’ll end up regretting, nena.”

Your brow raises at his phrase which you don’t entirely understand but you really don’t have time to question it. Your patience is running out as well as your time to get back on track with the orders.

As you walk away from his table, his words seem to settle into your skin.

He wouldn’t? Would he? No… he hasn’t got the balls to. What kind of person has that amount of free time on their hands to write a bad review? At least he had gotten his coffee in the end, you were in your right mind not to spill it all over him on purpose.

“He’s a dick, he’s a dick, he’s a total dick.” You mutter under your breath, making your way back to your station. But you should’ve guessed that from your conversation with him in the library, recalling his mocking tone of your embarrassment.

You should’ve kept your expectations low if you ever thought that you were going to be friends with him.

“What did you say?” MJ queries, hearing your mumbles as you join her.

You nod towards Miguel, still sitting in the far corner scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

“He’s an evil, brooding…” You fail to think of an appropriate ending.

“Dick?” MJ ends.

“Correct.” you say. You promise to yourself that from this moment onwards you are refraining from looking over at that corner.

You find that time passes quickly during your shift and once the rush hour of students finally dies down, you and MJ get the chance to finally take a break.

“Fucking hell, I never want to do that again.” She murmurs wiping down the surfaces near the coffee machines for any spilt substances.

“Ditto that.” you murmur, grabbing a cloth to wipe down some empty tables.

Learning that MJ was a performing arts student made you more than happy to get along well with her. She was in her second year, yet in a sea of sickening STEM students here you had real proof that you weren’t the only humanities student.

Take that Miguel.

/

Currently eating dinner alone in your apartment, you reminisce on your day in silence, your roommate out at her weekly computer coding club. You think that it was safe to say that it was a good day today, despite all the stresses at work.

Speaking of work, you recall the conversation from this morning.

You don’t want to give this Miguel guy too much credit but you’d be lying if you said that his threat earlier didn’t scare the shit out of you for the remainder of your day.

Even MJ had to ask if you were alright when it got to the end of your shift and you had brushed it off, blaming it on your exhaustion.

He was totally bluffing….right? I mean, he doesn’t even know you.

You bite down on your metallic fork, anxiety rapidly filling you within.

No, you can’t help it. You have to check.

Chewing on your fingernails, you type in the name of the cafe that you work out and head over to the reviews section on Google.

Scrolling down to find the latest reviews, your stomach practically drops at one comment, under the simple username of: @miguelohara20.

‘New barista lacked the ability to do her job. Couldn’t pay attention to even get my order right. Talks way too much unprovoked, to the point where you might as well save some money and make the damn coffee yourself.’

The fucking nerve of this guy causes so much anger within you that your fork practically falls from your other hand as you immediately go to text MJ. You send her a screenshot before typing with fury.

- ‘Did you see this? This was that guy that I was complaining about earlier: the rude, evil, brooding STEM one.’

Sent: 7:34pm

It’s not long before you receive a reply from MJ and it’s one that makes your stomach drop.

- ‘Yeah I did :/ Steve texted me about it actually.

Received: 7:36pm

MJ sends through another text, a few seconds later.

- ‘He wants a meeting with you on ‘customer etiquette’ !!

Received 7:36pm

Dropping your phone on the table, you let out a groan, holding your head in your hands. Now, this day went from ‘good’ to being the second worst day of your life, now with your job on the line.

Yeah…you think you fucking hate Miguel now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

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[bu-blegh-ost]

A short essay about how Caspian is mathematically not a mole (ep. 115 spoilers) (and for the whole series for that matter)

Okay, alright guys, I saw your concerns. I saw it all, and you are right to be worried that your favourite blue wet man's blue and equally wet best friend may turn out to be a traitor. And so am I, trust me. Which is why I went through every single bit of Caspian's past I could dig out to create an unltimate timeline of his entire goddamn life to see it it'd be plausible for him to become a mole at any point in time and ultimately prove his innocence! If that's something you're interested in reading, then buckle up!

"Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones. This is totally seperate from the Black-Ops situation that you learned about in the Stronghold. And you, in this book, can tell that there is a plant on Lizzie's crew."

This, of course is something I need to point out first. Whoever Lizzie's mole might be, they are not a doppelganger. They are not a clone, or Black-Ops, just a solider of the Navy, a person that must have gotten into the Navy via regular recruitment, be trained by them and then put into a spy division. Jay ofc had this entire process sped up, due to her grandma's influence, but no one other than her, especially an Undersea citizen, who would probably have to put in extra effort to be trusted given their shaky political situation few years back, would get the same treatment. What I'm trying to say, Caspian would need time, at least few years of training to become a mole they'd trust to infiltrate a crew, and not just any crew might I add. More on that later. Let's go back to his most early years for now. This is a fragment of episode 84 in which Caspian talks to Gillion abt his early life:

C: We all have family. I consider my life up here, this crew to be my found family. But my previous…tribe with the water genasi in the Undersea, where I was growing up…sort of in a [illegible]... remember me telling you about the outskirts? We um…was very nomadic, quite a, quite a peaceful, tranquil life, but it was always, you know…mixed with this life of poverty and my family wasn’t very…wouldn’t really have much but the water around us, and each other, I suppose, so uh…You know...I mean my mother didn’t make it past old age, and uh…

G: I’m sorry…

C: When my sister left the tribe, my father sort of fell into a depression of sorts and he stopped moving around. And when we stayed in one place, I was 18 or so, maybe 16, it was a while ago, and then…that’s when I left as well. Ventured to the Oversea, and um…and it’s history, so that’s my family. Not sure what they’re up to these days, I mean…I know my sister went to the capital, where you were.

G: Pirating is a pretty lucrative business, maybe if…we managed to find them or run into them, we can give something back, put them in a better situation.

C: …Well um…I mean this was 10-15, 10 to 12 to 15 years ago, quite some, quite some time, so I don’t even know if my father is alive still, I mean I don’t really have the desire to go back to the undersea, Gill.

G: Wha-why not?

C: Because I like my life up here. This is where I’m happy.

So, before we go to what all of that entails, one more quick crazy thing to mention: so, Caspian's sister is an Elder of the Undersea. Like for sure. This is confirmed by this part from ep. 79:

The Triton who you remember as the Elder Odolaf, who looks like he is about to speak, but is cut off by the water genasi, who has been doing a lot of talking thus far, who is Elder Celeste. They stand up and there is a familiarity that you notice now in their face. It’s like you have met them before, but not in the way that you know them because they are the Elder, but in a way that it’s like, they look like somebody you know. And she has sort of these uh, white tied-up like dreads that are tied up in like a bun and they come across the face and then one side is shaved. And there are beads and piercings in her hair, her ears are a little bit more sea elf-like in the way that they are pointed and they kind of like gradient into pink. They all kind of wear the same sort of ornate robes, though hers is more, I guess faded and like cut a bit, look a bit more warriorous, or like tribal, but still very well-made and professional.

Tribal clothing, a water genasi, that looks like someone Gillion saw before in the face. The only water genasi Gillion met after leaving the Undersea is Caspian. Elder Celeste is Caspian's sister. Wild. Anyway, not what we're here for, but I needed to mention that.

The crazier thing is that Caspian left to Oversea when he was 16-18, and it has been 10-15 years since then. That means Caspian is currently 26 at possible youngest, and 33 at his oldest, which was surprising to me, I did not imagine Caspian as a man in his 30s! But that's straight up facts, so holy shit, you know?

Okay, so I'm going to list a lot of small facts that determine a lot of ages in quick succession. I hope it's not gonna be too scary to look at, I'll simplify it all at the end. [Deep inhale]

Right now Gillion is 22. So when Caspian left the Undersea, Gillion was 12-7. Jay is 21 and Ava was 2 years older, same age as Lizzie. So Lizzie is 23 now. When Caspian left the Undersea, she was 13-8. Chip is 19, so Lizzie is 4 years older. Hole in the Sea happened when Chip was 9, so Lizzie was 13. So Caspian left the Undersea around the same time Lizzie crashed on the uninhabited island with Chey after the Hole.

It's a lot, I know, I know. So let me clear this up a little.

Hole in the sea was 10 years ago. Chip was 9, Lizzie was 13. 10 years ago Caspian was in the age between 16 and 23, and he left the Undersea when he was 16 or 18. So roughly at the same time the Black Sea happened, Caspian came to the surface for the first time.

(also pls note that we are talking in estimates, casue in ep. 36 Lizzie says she was 11 when the hole happened, but in ep. 101 she says she was the same age as Ava which by the power of math would put her at 13. Either way, somewhere around that age)

After that, Lizzie spend some time on an uninhabited island with Chey, the Black Rose cook, who sacrificed herself for Liz, so she could survive and died shortly after. We do not know how much time passed, but I assume no longer than few months, and after that she was saved by Captain Shadowbeard where she met Caspian. They were a part of Shadowbeard's crew, Caspian saved her from the massacre where Shadowbeard was killed, and then Lizzie went on to create her own crew, Grandberry Pirates with Caspian never leaving her for a second since he met her. That means that the only time Caspian could have joined the Navy would be RIGHT after he came to the Oversea for the first time, roughly at the same time Lizzie was stranded on an island, and in that short period of time (between Lizzie's crash on the island and her being found by Shadowbeard) he would have to find the time to be trusted and accepted by Navy, get trained specifically for infiltration AND infiltrate not anyones BUT FUCKING SHADOWBEARD'S SHIP. Not a NEW crew. A crew of one of the most legendary pirates on the sea. Cause before Lizzie, Caspian was Sadowbeard's crew member, and since then he never stopped being a pirate, so if he was a solider, he would have had to be one before Shadowbeard. And remeber what Grizzly said in 115: "Jay, you come from a division of soliders that were purposely put to infiltrate pirate crews, especially the new and upcoming ones."

Shadowbeard was not new. Not upcoming. He was dangerous and Navy must have had the balls of steal to send a rookie solider, which Caspian would have been at that point in time, to infiltrate him. The numbers say it's impossible. Guys, the numbers! They don't add up!

Anyway, so basically Caspian could not be a mole. He is not a new pirate, he was not a member of a fresh crew, becaue his pirate journey did not start with Lizzy, it started with Shadowbeard. Grandberry Pirates is a new crew, but Caspian is not a newbie in it. You know who is? Rudith. I mean what kind of doctor lets a bunch of rowdy pirates have a secret base under a place where sick and vulnerable rest??? Like ANY other place would have been better and more respectful! Also you know what's interesting? Gillion could heal these people with lay on hands easily, and yet the only thing Rudith did for them was give them potions that didn't seem to help and look after them on purely non-medical level. Bro didn't do shit. Like, why would you even become a doctor without having access to healing magic? The answer, you are not. You are a Navy solider in disguise.

Okay, okay, I'm done, that's all. If you got this far, you are a hero, thank you for reading this insanely long ramble, but that's kind of the conclusions that I came to, of course, any counter-theories and discussion in general is very much welcome! I'd love to hear your opinions! Love you guys, bye~

[kikiyoomis]

you thought you knew skincare. you had some pretty bad acne in middle school which led you down the rabbit hole of trying out any and every product that was said to clear your skin. you've tried all sorts of cleansers, serums, toners, moisturizers, sunscreens... you name it.

and with your hard work, your skin has been pretty clear recently in adulthood. there are a couple of bad breakouts here and there but much better in comparison to your middle school years.

your boyfriend, on the other hand, was blessed with good genes (that you are seriously envious of). he could use dish soap as a cleanser and his skin would be clearer than yours on your best days. but the way that your boyfriend is, you know he would not be putting anything like dish soap anywhere near his face.

sakusa kiyoomi has a skincare routine that has a least seven steps on a regular night and twelve steps on a "special night." hell, he knew more than you when it came to skincare and he didn't even have the desperation that you had when it came to it.

the first ever time you went over to his apartment, roughly two years into your relationship, you were shocked to see the number of products that lined his medicine cabinet.

any skincare product type you can think of, he had it. he even had at least one backup per item in that medicine cabinet, even travel sized versions. some of them you recognized when you told him your own favourites. he seemed to like it too. it appears that this was his regime that he was going to go with for the next couple of years.

"why do you look surprised?" sakusa asks you. you don't know what to say. you've always been under the impression that he was just a basic cleanser, moisturizer and sunscreen type of guy.

"i didn't expect you to have this many products," you confess, in awe that his collection somehow rivaled yours.

"it's just the basic necessities," sakusa shrugged, closing the medicine cabinet and taking your hand to lead you out of his bathroom.

"but i've seen your photos when you were in elementary school, middle school and high school. you've never had a single pimple, rough patch or anything in those!"

"i got a bit of acne when i first moved out," sakusa says. "i found out it was the new laundry detergent i was trying out that caused it. i tried anything i could get my hands on to get rid of it. luckily it didn't take long to figure it out," he continues. he sits on his bed and pats the spot next to him. you go to join him but he pulls your waist and has you sitting on his lap instead.

"now, i do it for self maintenance. it's very relaxing to do at the end of a long day," he says quietly as his arms wrap around your stomach, hugging your back as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"well you've seen my place, i have shelves upon shelves of products all because i can't seem to get rid of these stubborn pimples," you grumble.

"first of all, i always finish off whatever i have before starting a new one. all of yours are either half empty or barely used. it really bugs me how you don't bother finishing one before starting another," sakusa interjects.

"but how am i supposed to keep using it when it makes my skin worse?" sakusa presses a kiss to your cheek.

"then throw it out. i have more than enough money to buy you whatever skincare product you want. you can have the most expensive ones on the market if that's what you want."

"you know all of those luxury products are nothing more than a cream with perfume," you smile as you give him a kiss on the lips in return.

[sp4cepunisher]

just a scratch [ e.williams ]

summary ; ellie takes care of you when you return home injured from being on patrol with dina.

warnings ; 18+ themes, minors dni ! strong language, some depictions of an injury [ skin-tearing, blood, a brief mention of amputation ], over-protective + major girlfriend!ellie vibes. she just loves you a lot tbh, and hates to see you hurt.

author’s note ; hhhhiiiii hi :D i decided to rewrite this! not unlike all of the other things that i have written + will continue to write, i scrutinised the previous version until i decided to delete it + make it better!!! it was labelled fluff but, like?? it wasn’t giving enough fluff?? i wanted protective gf ellie, but it just seemed rushed to me, to be honest. saying this, i reallyreallyreally appreciate the love you guys gave that tragic attempt at a return to this community!!! it made me super happy + spurred me on to want to rewrite it and make it better for you!!! we all deserve having sweet, caring, sometimes a little over-protective ellie in our lives + we deserve it to be written well!!!! i hope you can all enjoy this re-draft even more, and thank you for always being so patient + understanding when it comes to my obsession over the things that i post here!!! i’m just a bit of a perfectionist when i write, but i’m really happy with how this has turned out!!! as always, please let me know your thoughts + enjooooooy!!!! <3

. . .

ellie’s love for you could have moved mountains; defied gravity; grown wings and soared above the clouds with determination to land on the sun. solid in how it had nestled itself into the pit of her heart and beautiful in the way it had developed buds which had flowered over time, the way the girl had allowed herself to feel for you for was something entirely indescribable. she had tried to write about it in her journal, and she had tried to talk about it in front of jesse, or dina— even joel, at times. but every single attempt seemed to result in scribbles, entire pages being torn out, or incoherent trains of thought which were often met with furrowed eyebrows. not to mention the further questions that would make her flush her own least favourite shade of pink, trip over her words as if they were cementing her feet between them, and that she didn’t have the answers to. she much preferred to express her love for you in less obvious ways— more private ways, like letting you take the first shower of the morning to make the most of the limited hot water, frying your eggs first because she knew that you didn’t like it when the pan got too greasy, or letting you pick the evening’s movie because she loved your concentration face when it came to watching you sift through her selection of dvds. she was loving, in a way that you hadn’t realised she could be. granted, she still got shy about it, even in front of you, but although useless when it came to verbalising her feelings, there was one thing that ellie was a master at:

keeping you safe.

a part of her believed that it was her sole duty, putting herself before you in every scenario that she found herself in with you at her side. ingrained in her; like a drug mingled with the blood in her veins, a language that she hadn’t remembered being taught but was fluent in, nevertheless. whether it was fighting the infected or the healthy, ellie was almost entirely fearless either way. and it wasn’t that she doubted your ability to look out for yourself, nor did she think that she could execute any of it better than you. it simply stemmed from her instinct to protect you, because she loved you. she had become sort of obsessed with it; with keeping you strapped to her side like her gun in its holster, tattooed forearm outstretched behind her like the arrow on a compass always displaying the right way to turn; ellie’s way to turn. and alongside this determination to look after you came a tendency to maintain a certain sense of disdain for letting you venture out on patrols and runs with anybody else, because ellie knew that nobody could protect you like she was sure she could— it was a kind of promise to herself, and to you, that your girlfriend had succeeded in keeping every single time the opportunity arose, without ever faltering. you couldn’t remember a time where you had ever returned home injured from a run or a patrol with ellie. you had barely even been sore.

the only exception to this rule of sorts that she had instilled within herself was when she was tied down with something else in jackson or elsewhere, and on this day in particular, when dina came to ask her if it was cool if you accompanied her on patrol, she found herself in this exact position; it was out of her control, because she knew that keeping her word to maria and helping her to set up the new routes for the next few weeks of runs and patrols was what she had agreed to, and she would stick to her promise. she couldn’t offer to go with dina herself, nor take her spot to keep you safe. she had no choice but to give in, and she always hated doing that.

“you’re helping maria here, and (y/n)’s free. i’ll bring her back,” dina reassured your girlfriend when she caught the look that she shot her way. she was well aware of the girl’s protective nature. if anything was to happen to you on her watch, dina wouldn’t put the idea of murder past ellie for a second. “i promise.”

“that’s a pretty big promise,” ellie’s brow furrowed, the lines that appeared on her face mimicking those that she had spent the past half hour etching onto the map in front of her; deep, stretching way past her control and branching off into unknown territory; beyond the safety that she knew she could provide. in a nutshell she trusted dina, but trusting her enough to relax against her promise to bring you back from a world that was merciless— one that was not lenient to those that had loved ones waiting for them at home, giving them a pass from death or mutilation simply because they had people to return to— was a different thing altogether. the world had become too foreign to care. a promise was nothing. she twirled the pen around between her fingers. “did she say she’d go?”

“uh, yeah,” dina exhaled, resting a fist on the table beside her and leaning into it. “yeah, she said she was up for it.”

ellie almost rolled her eyes at this. of course you had. she knew that you always wished that you could be in fifty places at once just to ensure that you didn’t let anybody down, or disrupt anyone’s plans. you were a people-pleaser, but not the bad kind. that’s what, on top of everything else, also bugged ellie. her conscience was fighting with itself; she knew that letting you go out of jackson without her would plague her mind for the rest of the day until your return, the urge to simply drop everything and make herself available to you gnawing at her bones right to the marrow, but she also knew that you wanted to help. it was in your nature. you were utterly good. the visual that was playing in her head was accurate, knowing you well enough to predict the willing nod that you had offered in response to dina’s question, masking the overriding sense of knowing better that had kicked your own conscience into consciousness; she knew that you had been the one that had told dina to come and double check with her, partly as a surefire way of letting her know where you would be for the rest of the day, but also as a way of gauging her general thoughts on it— she knew that you knew how protective she was of you, and at the same time as wanting to drop everything that she had agreed to do, to tell dina that she was happy to take this patrol and then make her way to your shared home just to toss your sneakers your way in a silent gesture of i’m here. let’s go., ellie decided against it. she smoothed the pad of her thumb over the rounded side of the pen that remained still gripped in her hand, and found that her gaze had involuntarily returned to the map before her. her eyes trailed over all of the possible routes that could be taken upon exiting jackson, mental grip slipping as she attempted to unscrew the stubborn lid on her memory in order to remember which paths hadn’t been cleared in a while.

“where are you heading?”

“north, straight up through the woods and past miller cabin.”

ellie’s thoughts wavered, and she pressed the tip of her pen into the wooden tabletop. the area north of jackson hadn’t been cleared in a few weeks, she knew that for sure. god knows how many more infected had shown up and were inhabiting it now— she even had the audacity to silently question whether or not dina would even be able to handle it. she also wondered if her protective nature was a sort of blessing in disguise; her instinct to take the lead every time, to reassure you that she would scope out the stagnant corridors which loomed like long, ghostly faces before you could follow in behind her was perhaps the wrong way to go about ensuring your safety. autonomy was probably more beneficial to you than following your girlfriend’s every move like her shadow. potential outcomes then began to race through her mind; images of you getting stuck between too many infected and not having anywhere else to turn; of dina assuming that splitting up and taking different routes would be a good idea, resulting in your disappearance and failure to return to jackson which would leave everybody simply assuming the worst. moving on. just another name amongst warnings. something to learn from. the idea that the heartbeat that she had spent months studying while you slept as it pulsed in the side of your neck could be stilled with just one wrong move made ellie’s stomach clench. that she would be the only one to inhabit the sheets within her bed; the imprint of your head in the pillow next to hers would become a sacred treasure, untouched, and encased in glass within the museum of ellie’s heart. the thought made her cringe.

the girl looked up at dina again, chewing the inside of her cheek before letting her jaw relax. “i mean, i can’t really stop you,” she felt her body sink into itself slightly, the words she spoke suddenly accompanied by a release of breath that she wasn’t too familiar with— a kind of letting go that felt unnatural, and that left its remnants wedged between her lungs. “if she said she’d go, then i guess she’s happy to go.”

“we’ll be careful. i’ll look out for her.”

ellie didn’t respond. she felt as though she couldn’t. instead, she felt herself forced to focus on the kind of heat that had begun rising at the very top of her spine and which was spreading like a disease up her neck, burning the spongiest part of her skull and trailing through to her jaw as dina’s shadow spanned out across the table like the worst kind of raincloud that was now looming over the map in front of her; over your name which she had absentmindedly carved into the table with the inky nib of her pen.

. . .

the evening sun was a bulbous yolk in the evening sky, bidding goodnight to the people of jackson. its setting behind the hammock of mountains and trees signalled the time to turn in for most, but for ellie it acted as the pendulum at the base of the clock that had loomed in the sky since you had left for miller cabin with dina about four hours earlier. it was as if it was refusing to set until you came home. stationary; a light to guide you back to safety. back to ellie.

her room felt stale. the sun was doing a terrible job at defrosting the cold air that lingered between ellie and her window, which she felt as though she hadn’t stopped looking out of since she arrived inside. maybe she hadn’t. like it was some kind of crystal ball that would somehow reveal your fate if she stared for long enough. she was unsure of how much time had passed, the spotlight of her mind shining solely and directly at the thought of you— how far you’d made it, what you’d found, if you were doing okay. she tried her very best to keep her faith in dina alive, trying to tell herself with a few dismissive shakes of the head and shrugs of the shoulders that you would be fine, soon to be returning home to her with barely a hair out of place, and your usual manner; rational, kind, always happy to see your girlfriend. and part of ellie felt moronic for spending the entirety of her day worrying, battling with a multiplicity of thoughts, and tearing the inside of her cheek to shreds, but the other part of her knew that it was only natural— she’d had enough of losing those she loved, and she wasn’t about to let her pride get the better of her. not this time.

the click of the latch on the door broke her train of thought, and her head snapped towards the sound so quickly that it was a surprise that it didn’t come detached from her neck altogether and land with a dull thump on the rug below her bed. she watched intently as a hand pushed firmly against the door, and a large shoe promptly wedged itself between the doorframe and the wood to help prop it open. slightly muffled voices were honestly hard to make out through the small gap in the door due to their gentle tone, but ellie could tell that it was you by the little laugh she heard pass through. her favourite sound. lifting herself from the mattress, the girl soon made quick work of swinging her legs over the side of her bed and even quicker work of standing up once she properly processed what was going on: jesse entered first, and ellie’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight that followed; his arm was tucked snugly beneath your armpit to support you as best he could in your footing that you were barely succeeding in achieving on one foot. it wasn’t long before your girlfriend noticed the large dark patch that had stained the outside of your now torn jeans just above your kneecap and which, in certain lights, she could see was a kind of black crimson. the worst kind, and bigger than she was comfortable with.

“jesus fucking christ,” she exhaled, her breath a little shaky. dina followed suit with your backpack draped over her shoulder, and her head tilting slightly to ensure your path to the couch was clear as jesse guided you through the small living space. she took wider steps to get ahead of the both of you, clearing a space atop the blankets for you. “is that—“

“it’s not,” dina was quick to interrupt ellie’s sentence, knowing exactly what the girl would say upon seeing your injury, almost before ellie did. jesse gradually let his arm slip from your body, mumbling a few words of encouragement as you sunk down onto the couch with a small intake of breath. “ellie, it’s not.”

“then what the fuck happened?”

“ellie, i’m fine.” you spoke.

the girl raised her eyebrows. “well, shit, (y/n). i don’t believe you.”

“i slipped— jesus,” you exhaled, face wrinkling up in considerable discomfort as jesse lifted your leg by your calve and propped it up on the coffee table in front of the couch. “i just slipped and it wasn’t anybody’s fault but mine.” you watched as your girlfriend made her way around the table to stand beside you, reaching a hand out to unstick the few pieces of hair that lay flush against your forehead with clammy perspiration, her callused thumb brushing over your forehead affectionately, but also as if to reassure herself that you were really there. that you had really made it home.

“there was a blockage along the path,” dina spoke quietly, as if slightly apprehensive about whether to join the discussion at all. “just before we reached miller’s cabin. tree fell, crushed a few cars, fenced a lot of infected in.”

“it was my idea to climb on top of the cars,” you used your hands to better recount your failed plan of action, tilting your open palms slightly to mimic your movements. “i was gonna try and, like, jump onto one of the window ledges across from them to see if there was a way around, but i didn’t even make it that far. my, fucking… foot slipped, and i tore my leg on a piece of rogue metal.”

ellie sighed heavily, filling the empty space beside you with a gentle squeak of the springs and being especially careful not to cause you any more pain with her body weight against the cushions. “fuck me, (y/n). why did you do that?” she questioned you, although secretly she knew the answer; it was you all over, never wanting to turn back from anything without being able to say you tried. “why the hell did you do that?”

you shrugged, lips parting as you tried to justify your stupidity in a way that ellie would truly believe, and dina placed your backpack down on the floor beside the couch. “we dressed the wound once we got far enough down the path. it’s sterile, and we managed to stop the bleeding,” she explained before you could speak. “jesse came out and helped me bring her in when he saw us arrive.”

“why didn’t you come and get me?”

you gave ellie a knowing look, and it was almost enough to cause the girl to crack a small smile. almost.

“she didn’t wanna worry you, dude.” there was even a smile in jesse’s voice, and you watched as he extended an arm to the wall and leaned his entire weight against it.

“didn’t want you jumping to conclusions,” you whispered teasingly, your eyes trailing over ellie’s face in an attempt to memorise every single part of it.

the brunette scoffed a small laugh, and for a second, from the look on her face, you wondered whether she was about to cry. the horrible thought flashed over your mind when you clocked the sudden shine that glossed her eyes, and the slight wrinkle between her eyebrows. from the way her teeth were pulling at the inside of her cheek, you knew that she was frustrated; upset with you; upset with herself. “…fuck.”

“we’ll give you guys some space,” dina spoke after a small pause in the conversation with a small nod, turning her body towards the front door and giving jesse a small nudge to the ribs. “let you get some rest.”

you looked over at the two of them, pressing your mouth into a tight-lipped smile. “thanks, you guys. don’t know what i would have done without you.”

jesse cocked a playful brow. “well, you wouldn’t have that giant gash in your thigh if it wasn’t for dina. in fact, you wouldn’t have even been out there if it wasn’t for—” his words were halted by a heavy smack to the shoulder from the girl behind him, which prompted him to twist the doorknob, and after which he uttered a small, “ow! why are you so violent?”

“goodnight, you two,” dina sighed, and glanced over her shoulder at the two of you. “feel better soon, okay, (y/n)?”

“thanks for bringing her home, dina. for looking after her.” ellie finally spoke, and dina turned back around for a moment upon stepping out into the night’s air

“i tried. a promise is a promise.” she shot you both a small smile, before pulling the door closed with a final click.

despite your injury, ellie had to admit to herself that her room was warmer with your return. she let her eyes scan over your profile, lingering slightly on the slope of your nose bridge, and the sculpted dip of your philtrum. her eyes fell to the side of your neck, and she felt herself visibly relax when she managed to clock the small thumping of your pulse. the same pulse she so often studied while you slept. “babe,” she whispered, regaining your full attention and earning her a small hum. “you’re okay?”

your face softened slightly, and you nodded. “yeah, ell. i’m okay.” she lifted a hand and placed it both reassuringly and gently on your good leg, giving your knee a squeeze before carefully leaning over your body and reaching for your backpack.

“please,” she huffed, plonking the bag down on her knees and retrieving your water bottle from inside. “drink something.” you complied to your girlfriend’s orders, letting her hand you the bottle and taking a few swigs from it to make your girlfriend happy. the water felt good as it swilled down your throat, softening the scratchiness and somehow lessening the pain in your thigh for a split second, though you were grateful for the momentary relief nevertheless. screwing the lid back onto the top, you placed the bottle beside you on the couch and turned your head to look at ellie again. “you could’ve died.” you watched her lips as she whispered.

you barely shrugged. “but i didn’t.”

ellie sighed. “fuck, (y/n).”

“ellie. i’m right here,” you insisted, though your voice remained soft and shrouded in moonlight. “yeah, i got hurt. and yeah, it sucks. but it will heal, and i’m here, and i’ll be okay.”

this wasn’t the first time that ellie was rendered pretty speechless by your ability to comfort her with a handful of simple, yet meaningful words. despite thinking of you all day, almost worrying herself into a mental decline and narrowly avoiding fucking up the work she completed for maria, you had immediately calmed her nerves. you somehow always knew how to relax her tense muscles, unclench her gritted teeth, and supply her with fresh air to breathe. here you were; raw beneath your bandage, still adorned in your blood-stained clothes, and probably exhausted. but you were alive; here, and breathing; here, and still as pretty as she had seen you that same morning, barely succeeding in keeping your heavy eyelids open as the two of you lay dozing in the sun-soaked bedsheets; here, and reassuring your girlfriend that things were alright.

“i love you,” the girl whispered, leaning a little closer just to tilt her chin upwards and press the gentlest of kisses to skin between your eyebrows. “i love you so much. i was, like, shitting my pants all day. hated not knowing whether or not you were okay. felt helpless.” her voice had fallen into a mumble, and you looked up at her with a hint of a smile.

“and i love you. even if you do worry too much.”

a shadow of a smile flickered over ellie’s lips, and she licked over them. “i worry for a reason,” she chuckled quietly, barely even loud enough for you to hear despite sitting so close to her. “clearly. how long sinced dina dressed your leg?”

you glanced down toward the coffee table, turning your leg to the side slightly to get a better look at the stain on your jeans to check that it hadn’t spread any wider, and to ensure ensure that you hadn’t bled through the barrier. “uhh, maybe… i don’t know, a couple of hours ago?” you returned your gaze to the girl beside you, whose own eyes were fixed on the maroon bloodstain.

“and you promise it doesn’t hurt? you don’t need me to clean it, change the bandage?”

“i promise.”

the girl was quiet for a moment, gaze trailing back up your leg before she turned her head and found your eyes. “is it bad under there?” she whispered, as if frightened of the answer. you shook your head gently, silently judging yourself for the way in which your heart fluttered at the concern that tainted ellie’s tone. you knew she would have been worried sick all day, but you couldn’t help but find it just slightly amusing how hard her outer shell appeared to everyone else. to those who didn’t know her. to anyone that wasn’t you.

“oh, yeah,” you whispered, trying to maintain a degree of seriousness in your voice, and ellie’s breath caught in her throat. “dina didn’t tell you, but, like… she almost had to perform the world’s first amputation while on horseback.” you couldn’t hold back the grin that tugged your mouth upwards, along with the heavy exhale that accompanied it through your nose. your smile grew wider when you watched as ellie noticeably relaxed upon realising that you were joking, and rolled her eyes.

“you’re so sick, you know that? sick and fucking twisted!” she leaned her elbow on the arm of the couch and rested the side of her head against her open palm. “jesusfuckingchrist.”

“i’m okay, ellie, i promise.” you reassured her, now in all seriousness. “i know that the blood probably makes it look scary, but it’s really not that bad. just a small gash.” extending a hand, you placed it on your girlfriend’s jean-clad thigh and gave it a squeeze, smoothing your little finger over her kneecap. the girl’s ivy eyes caught onto yours in a way that they had before, but that you swore to yourself over, and over again that you would never get used to: utterly loving, with no shadowed thoughts to cloud over it, and completely unapologetic, at that. with a small shuffle of her legs, and lifting her head from her hand, she got herself closer to you and took a second to lick over her lips.

“come here,” she whispered, hooking her pointer finger beneath your chin and reeling you forwards slightly. you pretty much immediately melted into her touch, allowing her to mould you into whatever position she wanted you aided by just her hands, and captured her lips with yours as they brushed. in a chaste, yet meaningful kiss, you brought your hand from her leg and used it to cup her face, pushing away a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. her own hand trailed up your arm, briefly warming the skin beneath your clothes before resting on the dip of your shoulder, lingering there even after the gentle kiss came to an end. “i love you,” ellie spoke, the tip of her nose almost slow dancing with yours as they brushed. “i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you.”

you offered her a small smile, lifting your shoulders in a shy little shrug. “and you’ll never know. ‘cause i’ll always be here.” your sweet, yet earnest words made ellie smile, the greenest part of her eyes twinkling optimistically right before you, like a shooting star passing through the sky just for less than a second, but for long enough to remember its short presence forever. she pressed one last short, firm kiss to your lips before glancing over her shoulder at your shared bed.

“you should lay down, babe.”

pulling at the corner of your lip with your teeth, you nod. “soon. wanna stay here with you, just a little longer,” ellie’s small smile brought another one to your own lips, and you elbowed her side lightly. “missed you.”

“missed you. when i wasn’t busy almost killing myself over what could’ve happened to you, and almost fucking up maria’s maps.” she mumbled, and you gave an amused hum.

“well, at least assuming the worst made this situation look a whole lot better. right?”

ellie pulled a face, twirling a piece of your hair that she had picked up somewhere along the way around her two fingers. “i wouldn’t say that, but, yeah. i’m definitely happy that you aren’t dead.”

you raised your eyebrows, scoffing a laugh and letting your head fall back against the couch. “thanks, ell. i’m happy i’m not dead, either.”

[sleepingdeath-light]

undertaker smut alphabet ; 18+

written to accommodate trans, cis and neutral inserts

will also be posted on wattpad and ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

A — Aftercare

what are they like after sex?

Aftercare for him usually consists of him making you laugh so hard that you cry whilst he cleans you up and checks you over for any major injuries — or anything that could become a major concern otherwise. After that's said and done he'll shoo you to the bathroom whilst he fetches you something small to eat and a drink of water to help you recover. Then, if it's late at night, the two of you will lay down together and he'll stay by your side rubbing comforting circles on your back as he holds you close, watching as you slowly drift off to sleep.

B — Body Part

their favourite body part of their partner and themselves.

Though it might sound strange at first, given his propensity to keep them hidden, he's actually quite fond of his eyes. Granted this is mainly because of your — as well as previous partners' — fascination towards them and the benefits that come with that (after all, by reaper standards they're dreadfully plain). He enjoys having the ability to make you fluster and clam up by giving you a single look, the ability to turn you from bratty to obedient just by brushing his fringe to one side; it gives him a sort of power over you that he relishes in and that he'd happily make use of until it stops having that same effect on you (which he quietly hopes never happens).

He's also pretty open about his partialism towards...

(Fem!Reader) your chest. This preference of his is by no means impacted by the size of your chest as it's not necessarily about a specific look for him — it's more so about the fact that it's your chest that he's looking at. He adores smaller breasts that he can fit easily into his hands just as much as he's fond of larger breasts that are impossible to ignore no matter how many layers of clothing you wear. He's as much of a blatant pervert around you either way because he's attracted to your body because it's yours — so unfortunately (or fortunately) there really is no escape from his relentless affection and staring. But, at the very least, you needn't worry about him staring at any other women because as long as he has you he's never even going to give them the time of day — no matter what their chest looks like.

(Masc!Reader) your stomach. Flat or round, muscular or soft, hairy or smooth — as long as it's yours this reaper is not going to hold back when it comes to showing his appreciation for your stomach. Marking, groping, commenting on it during dirty talk; you name it and he's probably done it several times already by the start of a new week and he's not even the slightest bit guilty if you try to tease him about it. Undertaker just wholly lacks shame in that regard (in most regards, honestly) and commenting on his attraction is more likely to get him to increase his affections than it is to embarrass him. Though, at the very least, his relentless attention leaves no doubt regarding his appreciation for you and your body (and if you're insecure about your stomach for whatever reason then he's more than happy to try and help you boost your confidence).

(Neutral!Reader) your throat. Undertaker absolutely adores your neck and all of the things it does to him: the way it arches so perfectly when you throw your head back and moan in that deliciously sinful way when you're riding him, hands planted on his chest and his on your waist as you whimper and cry and sob with a force that makes your throat bob; the way it fits so perfectly in the palm of his hand as he lightly chokes you — a playful gesture, not a threat — that he can feel every breath and swallow and beat of your heart beneath his scarred hands, such a perfect fit that it's almost enough to make him believe in fate; the feeling of your pulse jumping beneath his deceptively soft lips and tongue as he trails kisses and licks and love bites along the column of your throat — nipping at it playfully and humming against your skin as you whimper and gasp under his attentions. Yes, he quite likes your throat indeed.

(Trans Masc!Reader) your stomach. His fondness and perversion is going to be apparent no matter what you actually look like because he's attracted to your stomach — not just men's stomachs in general. You are the main factor in his preference, you are the reason he looks at your body with all of the lust and appreciation that he does, so you have nothing to worry about when it comes to other men stealing his attention. Whether it's on the hairier or smoother side, whether it's softer or more toned, whether it's flat or round; he's always going to find a way to comment on/touch/mark it in a way that will leave you breathless and flustered. Or, in other words, expect to have plenty of bite marks on your abdomen and don't expect to make it through the day without some perverse comment being spoken or his hands mysteriously finding their way under your shirt to touch up your stomach when work is slow, because you will be thoroughly disappointed (or pleased if that's something you happen to enjoy).

(Trans Fem!Reader) your chest. This attraction of his isn't impacted or fuelled by the size or shape of your breasts — whether they're flat, more muscular, smaller, larger, softer, even or not — as much as it's fuelled by the fact that they're yours and once he found you it's like he stopped noticing other women existed. He's equally attentive (well... perverted) about your chest if it's on the flatter side as he is if it's on the larger side, and wearing anything at all that shows it off is guaranteed to have you bent over the nearest table and fucked into oblivion. Undertaker may not be subtle about his attraction, but at the very least it leaves no room for doubt in regard to his feelings for you (even if he can get a bit unintentionally rough at times with his marking).

C — Cum

anything to do with cum.

When he cums, it’s in a shockingly large amount, more than enough to fill you up to the point of bulging and leaking, or to coat your face/thighs/ass/chest with ease. It’s standard in texture and colour, of course, and the only thing differentiating him from a human man (or even himself before he became a reaper) is that he’s completely infertile as a result of his death. This means that he’s able to creampie you without any risk of conception even if you’re able to get pregnant — which he’s more than thankful for as he much prefers to release inside of you and watch it leak out (or watch you try and stop it from leaking out).

D — Dirty Secret

what is their dirty secret?

He’s only ever regretted sleeping with one person and that was one of his supervisors back at reaper dispatch. He can’t even recall why they had sex, just that it was a terrible experience all around and that he ended up doing everything he could to avoid them until he was moved to another department entirely (for different reasons, of course). This particular situation contributed heavily to him banning hair pulling in the bedroom and if asked the most you’ll get is a grimace and a rather telling touch to the back of his scalp — almost as if he’s remembering something that he’d really rather not think about at all.

E — Experience

how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?

He has quite a bit of experience with both casual hookups and actual relationships, including his on-again-off-again, several decade long affair with a noblewoman and many, many one night stands with humans and his old colleagues back at reaper dispatch. So, needless to say, he knows what he's doing when it comes to getting someone off.

F — Favourite Position

what is their favourite position?

As long as he’s inside of you, he’s not particularly bothered about the position you’re in — all that matters to him is that you’re both enjoying yourselves. So if you prefer cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, doggy style, missionary or anything else then he’s happy to accommodate that and will do so without hesitation.

G — Goofy

how serious are they in the moment?

Undertaker takes very little in his life seriously, only ever dropping his cheerful facade when it's absolutely necessary, so it's safe to assume that he'd try to bring laughter and joy into the bedroom. He's always joking around and not afraid to laugh at himself if he makes a mistake, just generally doing whatever he can to keep the mood light and comfortable for you both (heaven knows his home and profession can be pretty gloomy so it's nice to have a bit of reprieve from all of that — even reapers can get a bit bored of death at times). The only exception to this is if you're being punished or engaging in a type of play that requires a great deal of focus in order to be done safely and look out for signs of distress (such as consensual non consent or breath play/choking).

H — Hair

how well groomed are they?

He's pretty apathetic to body hair and unless you start to express discomfort during sex because of it, he's not going to bother with trimming/shaping it. Much like his hair, his pubes are soft, grey and decently long — curlier and thicker than the hair on his head, but not by very much — and concentrated in a bush about the base of his length and a small, spattered path leading to it from about midway up his stomach.

I — Intimacy

how romantic are they in the moment?

This entirely depends on the mood at the time and what sort of play you’re engaging in — though he’ll always be romantic during aftercare no matter what came before that. Generally speaking, however, he does show his care through his humour and by making sure that you’re comfortable during and after the fact — being implicitly caring even if the moment calls for him to be a bit rough.

J — Jack Off

how often do they masturbate? how?

Masturbation, for Undertaker, is done because of a need, a desire, and he treats it as such — making it quick and dirty and effective so that he can return his focus to his work as soon as possible. He’ll duck into a side room adjacent to his storefront (dark and cramped and uncomfortable but private enough), hurriedly unbuckling all of the belts that constrict his waist and pelvis and brushing his robes out of the way before pulling his straining cock out of the near-painful confines of his leather clothing. Then, with one hand balled into a fist and placed in his mouth to bite down upon, he’ll make quick work of himself: long, quick fisting of his dick from root to tip, occasional rough groping of his balls, rubbing circles on the slit of its head and so on. Just doing anything and everything he can to ensure a hasty climax until he finally succeeds with a low, muffled grunt and a stuttered thrust forwards as he spurts onto his fist and wrist — returning to the front of house after taking a minute or so to clean himself up and come down from his high. There have been many times where he’s nearly broken his nails whilst doing this but, thankfully, the worst has yet to happen.

K — Kink

what are some of their kinks?

Given he wears leathers and chains as part of his work uniform, and that his previous employ was at reaper dispatch, it would be safe to assume that he's pretty kinky. A small selection of the things he's into includes:

Bondage (decorative and practical — on you)

Impact play (on you)

Breath play (on you)

Blood play (both)

Degradation & praise (giving)

Public play & free use (both)

Collaring (both)

Overstimulation (on you)

Edging (on you)

Clothed stimulation (both)

Marking (both)

L — Location

what are their favourite places to have sex?

Undertaker is pretty much happy to have sex anywhere and everywhere — he just doesn’t have that same sense of shame or propriety that humans or even other reapers do. That being said his favourite places are the most convenient to you both, so: around his workplace, anywhere in your home and empty gravesites/graveyards (or, in other words, the places where he spends most of his time).

M — Motivation

what turns them on?

There are a lot of things that can turn Undertaker on when it comes to you and he’s not shy about letting you know exactly what those things are. Some of these things include: showing off his preferred body part of yours (stomach/chest/throat), flashing him with the fact that you’re not wearing underwear, sneaking under the counter when he’s working to get him off, and just outright telling him that you want him to fuck you. All of these are pretty much guaranteed to get his attention on you, but using a combination of them is going to make sure that you won’t be able to walk straight the next day.

N — No

what won't they do in the bedroom?

Undertaker is pretty possessive and has an underlying fear of losing you in one way or another, meaning that he outright refuses to invite or involve anyone else in your sex life. Especially not any demons or angels — he may have stepped back from his role as a reaper but he still hates both with a passion. He's also cautious about how he goes about dangerous forms of play and won't do anything involving extreme breath play (drowning/suffocation) and he isn't at all fond of having his hair pulled (it's uncomfortable and a pain to get unknotted afterwards so he just barred it from the bedroom entirely).

O — Oral

do they prefer to give or receive? how good are they?

When it comes to oral, Undertaker’s stance is: the messier the better. If his face isn’t covered in your cum and you’re sweaty and panting and drooling then he’s done something wrong — and, similarly, he loves nothing more than being able to make a mess of your face/chest when you’ve gone down on him. Though he doesn’t have any preference either way as long as some sort of mess is made.

When he’s receiving, he much prefers to be sat down with his legs spread and you knelt between them. One of his hands his messing with his hair, twirling it between his fingers and pushing his silvery bangs out of his face so that he can get a good look at you in this submissive position. He’ll talk to you until he’s no longer able to: instructing you on where to suck and hum and lick, praising you for doing a good job, lovingly degrading you for being so willing and eager to get on your knees for someone like him, etc. Voice low and airy in a way that only he could pull off, his tone and his words shaking you to your core and sending sharp waves of pleasure straight to your core. Then, as he starts to get close, his pitch will start to increase and he’ll start panting — long nails scratching lightly at your scalp as he starts to guide you along his length, sentences devolving into disjointed degrading and praising phrases degraded into breathless single-word instructions into incoherent moans and grunts and groans as he grits his teeth and starts to fuck your mouth. Getting rougher and rougher, jerkier and jerkier, until he finally climaxes and spurts his cum either into your mouth, onto your face or onto your chest depending on your established boundaries and where you happened to be when he climaxed.

If you have a vagina, he loves being able to lay down between your legs whilst eating you out. He’ll tie his hair back and have you bend and spread your legs, pushing your thighs apart and holding them in place with scarred hands whilst he leans down and devours you like a man starved. Yellow-green eyes practically fluorescent with want as he stares up at you through pale eyelashes, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement as you writhe and arch and squirm under his touch — unable to stop himself from moaning and groaning against you from his own excitement. Long tongue (you never realised just how long it was until now) skilfully trailing along your sex: tracing a thin — then thick — stripe along your slit and gathering your slick which he swallowed and groaned over, dextrous muscle dipping into your dripping hole and precisely thrusting into the spongy spot inside of you, thin soft lips encircling around your clit and sucking. Pressure, pleasure, too much and not enough. Falling into a rhythm that had your hands flying to the back of his head as you ground and bucked your hips down against his mouth — smearing your release over grinning lips and pale cheeks as you came, too far gone to register his pleased giggles as he licked and sucked you through your climax.

If you have a penis, then he prefers to have you mount his face as he pleasures you from below — getting so into your pleasure that you can see him bucking his hips up into nothing whilst he gets you off. Dual colour eyes peer up at you between your thighs, half lidded with need and arousal as he moans and groans around your dick yet still glinting with that shimmer of mischief that you adore. His mouth is everywhere on you, with him making full use of his lips and teeth and tongue to give you as much pleasure as he can: kissing his way along your shaft, sucking on the tip, deepthroating you in a way that has you doubting his possession of a gag reflex, massaging your balls with his free hand, nibbling on the skin of your pelvis close to the base of your length, and so on. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every kiss, hum, suck, moan, hum and nip until you finally fall over the edge with a particularly forceful downward rut of your hips against his mouth. Hands in his hair, head thrown back, cock buried in his throat and spurting your load into his mouth (which he eagerly swallowed), panting and heaving as he continues to suckle and jerk you through your climax — completely unbothered by the absolute mess he’s made of himself in the process (mouth and chin and cheeks covered in spit and sweat and cum from his efforts). Not stopping until you’re so overstimulated that you’re barely able to whimper and squeak out your pleas for a break, at which point he’ll help you stabilise your shaky legs as you stumble off of him (laughing lightheartedly the whole time).

P — Pace

are they fast or slow? are they rough or gentle?

No matter what speed he chooses to abide by (whether that’s due at his own discretion or due to your preference — he’s equally comfortable going fast and slow, so it really does depend on you), Undertaker is naturally going to be somewhat rough with you. The extent of this roughness will vary due to a variety of reasons (boundaries, preferences, mood and so on) but it’s always present to some degree because he’s naturally much stronger than you and he sometimes forgets how stark that imbalance is in the moment. Though if you dislike roughness then he’ll make an effort to hold himself back, even if he does unintentionally slip up on occasion.

Q — Quickie

what is their opinion on quickies? how often would they have them?

Given his high libido and busy schedule (between his legitimate work as an undertaker, his role as an informant and his place in the aurora society), quickies become something of a staple in your relationship to ensure that you’re both able to get off as much as you need. Initially they’re something fun and risky, synonymous with giggly semi-public acts between appointments when you’re too needy to keep your hands off each other — naive and innocent and deeply in love and lust all at once. But as his work becomes more demanding of his time, quickies will become less fun and more of a necessity — the only chance you have to get off between all of the meetings and funerals and tests and blood drawings. It’s difficult but the two of you deal with it as best you can.

R — Risk

are they willing to experiment?

For Undertaker risk is just a natural part of sex and he’s more than eager to experiment with all sorts of toys, play and language — public, private and anywhere in between. Of course he has his limits, as discussed above, but other than that he’s game for pretty much everything that you suggest and will insist on trying any (non hard-limit) suggestions at least once before you agree on a stance as a couple.

S — Stamina

how long can they last? how many rounds?

Whilst he can initially come across as pretty weak due to his unique facade and slender frame, Undertaker is still a reaper — and an extremely notorious one at that — and his stamina reflects his status as an undead entity. As a baseline he’s able to last much longer than you (potentially upwards of five to six rounds if you have the time) but he limits himself to whatever best suits you, stopping and adjusting his pacing to make sure that he’s also satisfied by the time you reach a point where you need to tap out, whether that’s after one round or three.

T — Toys

do they own any toys? do they use them on their partner?

Before you two met he’d already collected quite the array of toys from all over the world, having picked up a great deal both during and after his tenure as a reaper. Amongst his large hoard of toys are all sorts of penetrative (dildos, plugs, beads), stimulative (sucking, vibrating), restrictive (chastity cage/belt, ropes/silks/chains, stretchers), pain play (whips, paddles, canes) and sensation (heat sensitive items, blindfolds, feathers) based toys and he’s happy to use whatever you enjoy or whatever you want to try. He’s not the sort to push you any which way and will only suggest things based on what you’ve enjoyed in the past — he’s content with going at your pace.

U — Unfair

do they like to tease?

Being a tease is his default state and he’s unlikely to relent or stop entirely unless you ask him to do so or otherwise show signs of discomfort with his actions/language. Otherwise you’ll be exposed to a wide variety of teasing methods: orgasm denial and edging, calling you ‘desperate and ‘needy’, mocking you for being so ‘desperate’, degrading and humiliating you and not stopping until you’re sobbing and begging him to do exactly what you want. Some of his favourite methods are: having you strip and show him how aroused you are, subtly touching you up in public before acting like nothing happened, mocking/repeating the sounds and pleas you make during sex, and having you work to earn your orgasm (riding his boots/thighs, pleasuring him first and repeating his humiliation) — but, again, he works around your boundaries.

V — Vocal

how loud are they?

He’s not loud but he’s definitely vocal — never going much above a whisper but speaking to you for as long as he’s able to before dissolving into a string of groans, grunts, pants and moans. You’ll have a complete commentary rife with praise and degradation and humiliation — instructions and repetitions of what you’re saying, even — from the moment he propositions you (or vice versa) through foreplay until you’ve finished and are basking in the afterglow. A private one way conversation where he’s the only one able to do much speaking and you’re only able to respond with whines and whimpers and body language: writhing, trembling, bucking and arching. So, to reiterate, he may not be particularly loud but he’s very very vocal in bed.

W — Wild Card

a random headcanon for the character

He probably has a bit of a thing for partners who have undergone types of body modification — whether that’s piercings, tattoos or something less socially acceptable than those two. The idea of someone going out of their way to alter their body and change their appearance through means that are inherently painful is extremely attractive to him; it shows a level of dedication, to him, that’s extremely admirable. He’d also probably get a few piercings of his own after he left reaper dispatch (both intimate, like nipple and genital piercings, and otherwise, like ear or tongue piercings).

X — X-ray

what's under their clothing?

Whilst his length is much longer than average, it’s decently slender and smooth — with few notable ridges or veins along it, but he does have a Prince Albert piercing in the tip. The colour is pretty consistent along the shaft, given that he’s uncircumcised, but the tip is a slightly darker shade than the rest of his dick.

Y — Yearning

how often do they want sex?

He has a pretty high libido but he's become accustomed enough to ignoring or taking care of it himself that he's not particularly effected if you have a lower sex drive than him. Though this does mean that he's pretty much already aroused and happy to have sex whenever you proposition it to him.

Z — Zzzzzz

how easily/quickly do they fall asleep after the act?

Undertaker vehemently refuses to fall asleep until well after you — sometimes not going to sleep at all — because he's so terrified of losing you. He's lost dozens of people over the years, people he'd loved and cherished gone in the blink of an eye (Vincent, Claudia), and you are the person whom he cares for the most which makes him all the more frightened of losing you. So, no matter how tired he may be, he'll lay beside you for hours watching you sleep: tracing the rise and fall of your chest with his eyes, stroking the calloused pads of his fingers along your pulse, smiling with endearment and relief with every whimper and gasp and snore and nonsense phrase that escapes you as you slumber. Constantly looking for signs that you're still alive, still with him, and that he's not alone — he's not lost you, not yet. But he pretends to sleep as to not worry you, closing his eyes and quietening his breath whenever he notices you starting to stir, not wanting to worry you with his lack of rest and making up some nonsense tale of the dreams that he'd had overnight.

[soft-teddybear]

ateez - long distance relationship 

genre: fluff

cw: none that I’m aware

summary: different things ateez would do it they were in a long distance relationship.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction made for entertainment and form my point of view.

members under the cut.

seonghwa

constantly reminds you to take care of yourself by taking your meds, cleaning your space and taking time to rest.

plans monthly virtual dates, can be watching a movie together or ordering food form the same restauran and eating together on video call, lots quality time.

lots of calls but super respectful of your time, knows you can’t be available all the time and he isn’t either so communication it’s good on both sides.

when he wants to randomly bright up your day he calls your local flower shop and buys you flowers, they are delivered to your door with a pretty note.

hongjoong

literally has remainders on his phone to call you because he doesn’t wants to forget, you understood he’s busy with work but your video calls are really important for the both of you.

remembers every single date and finds a way to send you flowers or other gifts with a little note on them.

has a count down on his phone to be constantly remainder of how many days are left to see you again, it doesn’t matter if you’re coming or if he is the excitement is the same.

has a framed picture of you both together in his studio that he changes every time you see each other to have the updated version.

yunho

has a framed picture of you two on his bed side table because he wants to see you before going to bed and when he wakes up.

you constantly send him pics of random puppies you see out on the street, saying you saw him or his relatives but were too shy to say hi.

gets creative for your video call dates, giving it a theme or preparing a song to sing to you, your favourite song at the moment, or decorating the background to make it different.

loves to spoil you even if its from afar, buys you food, coffee, boba, anything you’re craving gets delivered to your door and it doesn’t needs a note for you to know who did it.

yeosang

calls you every morning to tell you his plans and let you know how busy he’ll be, in case he didn’t had time for a call he’ll send you a voice note or text.

loves playing online games with you while on call, that way he feels like you’re really close to him.

when you’re coming over to see him he plans all sort of activities to spend the most time he can with you and make lovely memories.

has a lot of pics of you two together and of you alone that he sees when he’s feeling alone or missing you lots, your pretty smile makes him feel better.

san

always remains you that he always has time for you because even if he’s busy he’ll make time to talk to you, he wants you to feel his company even if you’re apart.

he loves the weekly video calls you make in order to tell each other what you did during the week he wants to know everything.

spoils you lots every time you see each other, literally doesn’t lets you pay for anything, gives you lots of gifts and ask you to stay with him at the dorms.

super touchy when he’s with you says he has to make up for the missing time in which he had to cuddle with his pillows instead.

mingi

always sends you good morning and good night messages because he wants to pretend you’re saying it to each other face to face.

lots of pics during the day form him and from you because that way he feels you closer and feels like he’s in your life and you’re in his.

early morning calls at least once a week to catch up, with his just-wake-up voice telling you everything super exited.

everytime you see each other it’s time for what he calls “hoodie trade” that is an exchange of hoodies so he can take a little of you and you can take a little of him.

wooyoung

night calls every day, doesn’t matter how tired he is, he needs to call you and see you or just hear you to properly sleep.

has your pic as his phone background so he can see you but also talk about you every single time someone asks, he will not waste the opportunity.

plans your meetings as soon as he knows his free time, takes in consideration your time to plan if he’s going or if you’re because that’s another opportunity he won’t waste.

when he’s sad or missing you more than usual he cuddles a teddy bear you gave him and sent pics to you.

jongho

conforms with texts most of the time but he loves the video calls you do at least twice a month, he loves your exited face while talking to him.

remembers every single important date you tell him: a test, anniversary, birthday, everything and he sends you support texts to remind you he’s there for you.

constantly sends you pics of things that reminds him of you just to make sure you know he’s thinking of you and lots.

loves when you send him pics of the things you’re doing and what you ate because that way he knows you’re taking care of yourself.

[staryuee]

Lotus Rib Soup — Domestic Genshin Hcs ⸝⸝

— [warnings]. as always , not proofread and also written by sleep deprived me at 7am

— synopsis . . . some simple fluffy domestic headcanons

— characters . . . ayato , ayaka , zhongli , ningguang , xiao

— notes . . . these are just general domestic things i can imagine them doing :) not necessarily after marriage (but u can ofc interpret that they r!)

K. AYATO

— now if you thought he was clingy and overbearing before, be prepared for that to TRIPLE once you start living together

— you tell him constantly to ‘not go overboard’, but this is the head of the yashiro commission we’re talking about so of course he won’t listen

— he S P O I L S YOU , you simply gazed at some pretty jewellery on your walk today ? it’ll be sitting on your vanity desk the next morning, said you were craving some food ? he’s having it prepared right away

— now this man is a classic and dare i say traditional romantic, so you will get the sappy ‘breakfast in bed with a kiss on the forehead’ treatment every morning before he heads off to his duties

— every single day no matter how busy he is, he will give you a bouquet of flowers accompanied with some kisses, because hey who doesn’t enjoy some flowers (me, i have hayfever)

— before you he just let thoma clean up around the place, but now with you it feels rather intimate to him to complete some chores together , it just makes him happy

— overall 20/10 , wife husband material !!!

K. AYAKA

-- another one that completely spoils you rotten, but in a much more subtle way (at least she hopes because if she comes off as clingy she’ll probably hide herself from you until the next century)

— one thing she will absolutely never get tired of is hand holding , to the majority something like handholding is just a normal custom to any sort of relationship

— BUT !! to ayaka , it’s something that she finds to be a form of comfort, it makes her feel so much more comfortable and safe knowing that you won’t be leaving her any time soon

— what she loves even more than that is kisses, the passionate and chaste ones are always lovely and welcome however the ones she really prefers are the ones where you’re both laughing over something stupid - it makes everything seem so much more real to her

— she literally loves the random moments where you just twirl her around, it could be simply to give her a greeting or even a hug , but for some reason it makes her heart flutter

— your anniversaries would be so nicely organised and beautifully done , she’d probably plan months in advance because she just wants you to know that she loves you much more than she can show

— ayaka is very prone to loneliness, and having someone with her who she’s able to cherish and be so close with makes every hardship she faces worth it, every day when she’s done with her duties or even while she’s still performing them, she’s dreaming of being there with you

ZHONGLI

— this old ass man istg (affectionate)

— he will pester you SO much about your physical and mental well-being , always telling you, “ai ren, you’ll strain your eyes if you keep looking at those papers in the dark, come to bed,” OR ,”darling, i’m not sure venting your frustrations on some hilichurls will solve your problems, but im always free to listen.”

— now that he’s trying to live out his ‘mortal life’, he’ll definitely start appreciating and noticing minor details about you; whether that be your mannerisms, your tonal shifts, to your laugh or even your posture

— since he’s still technically an archon he just sorta ditched his job because he couldn’t be asked, he doesn’t necessarily need sleep BUT he absolutely adores the nightly routine you two have (once he finally coaxes you into going to bed that is)

— cooking is most certainly one of his favourite activities to do with you, not only is it enjoyable he gets to see you dance around the kitchen trying to find utensils and ingredients - honestly just looking at you doing anything makes him have the most love stricken expression on his face.

NINGGUANG

— now if you thought the kamisato siblings spoiled you, the tianqian takes that to the extreme

— if your gaze even lingers on an object for a second ningguang will have it in your possession in the next minute or so , ‘anything my dearest wants they’ll get’ that’s basically her motto

— she literally creates a room just for you in the jade chamber that she allowed you to decorate however you wished (most of the jade chamber has your touches added to it anyway)

— early mornings with ningguang don’t last long but they’ll always leave an impact on you both for the rest of the day , you’ll wake up with limbs tangled together and with your bodies pressed closed together, ningguang will give you special morning kisses to help boost your energy for the day but it honestly makes you just yearn for her more and distracts you

— she’s a rich and powerful chinese auntie ok, and she absolutely adores little kids she wants nothing more but for them to be happy and healthy - so when she sees you with kids her heart just simply explodes (crystallises? lol)

— “how can just a singular person be so precious and adorable … rex lapis thank you.”

— will ask about your thoughts on starting and raising a family, nothing too major of course maybe just one or two kids. anything you’re up for, she’s more than willing !

XIAO

— he’s been through way too much (especially after that new quest..) and being able to come to you and safely say “i’m home” genuinely makes him feel so loved and happy for once

— one thing he really enjoys while staying at home with you, is being cared for. you always reassure him that it’s just what he deserves, and your not doing any of this out of pity but out of love, and he absolutely knows that and cherishes that fact.

— wether it be back massages to relieve stress, cute little at home dates, intriguing conversations at three am as neither of you can fall asleep - xiao holds it all dear in his heart

— xiao doesn’t really have much of a morning ? i mean he doesn’t sleep and if you try to coerce him you’ll get turned down with the “i’m not mortal, i’ll be fine.” - but as soon as he says that line you respond back with the “but i’ll be so lonely without you” and he is dragging you to bed with you

— when you finally wake up together it’s the prettiest sight anyone could bear the witness of seeing, both of your bodies entangled together with xiao’s arms strongly hugging your waist in attempt to close the non existent gap between you

— he insists that this is all “useless” and that he’s waiting precious hours of the day, but with the loving way his eyes gaze at you ever morning and the way he tucks locks of your hair away from your face to look at you - it’s impossible to believe him

— your nighttimes are usually just spent with you coddling him and perhaps singing or humming a sweet melody to him

— kids are out of the question with him btw , buuutttt maybe if you begged enough times-

©IHEARTGANYU do not copy, steal or repost <3

[tanith-rhea]

ello!!!! may I request some sort of coffee shop au with Miranda and female reader? Either we work there and she's the customer who always brightens our day, or we just continue to run into (not necessarily literally, but also what is some spilled coffee if we get Miranda in exchange?) each other all the time? It's really up to you, I'm just asking for some cozy coffee romance :) <3 tysmmm!

Coffee, tea, or could I offer you me?

Working at a coffee shop wasn’t nearly as quaint and romantic as the books you’d read while growing up described. However, instead of accepting the dull reality and focusing on working to pay for college, you decided to make a difference, and be the cupid of the establishment. If you couldn’t live your coffee shop romance, you would help other people do so. That was before you witnessed the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen get stood up by her date.

Word count: 7.1k (oops)

As the cupid of the Rainbow Roast Café, your life mission was to provide ordinary people with the ristretto-like love experience of their life. Or at least give clients a funny story to tell their grandchildren one day.

Your co-worker Maggy had even a bet going on that you would pair off at least one more duo or group of individuals until the end of the month, to which Dave — your other co-worker — betted against, saying you had already struck twice this month and it was virtually impossible for you to get another success in just ten days.

You didn’t see it as a competition though. It was the closest you thought you could get to experiencing a coffee shop romance. Patrons who flirted with you often acted like creeps and it was very rare for one of them to be a woman. So, you decided that giving other people the chance at a nice and soft meet cute and possible love story was your best shot.

At first, you thought it would be a horrible breach of boundaries to tell a client that you saw someone eyeing them from the other side of the café, so you kept your cool and inwardly itched watching people nurturing crushes and not telling the other person about it. Until the day of your breaking point.

There was this girl that always came at eight-twenty and ordered a white chocolate mocha. She had a favourite table by the windows to the side and near the back, and she sat there every day without fail to people-watch and write in a journal-like notebook. That was until a month in on your job, another person arrived at eight and ordered a simple iced and bee-lined to the very table.

When the girl got her order that morning, she was stuck for a bit, watching the intruder of her sacred spot. You thought she felt pestered at having to choose another seat, but over the next few days it kept happening, and the looks she shot at the brooding figure at her table started to appear more like pining than cursing.

You, being nosy and lacking several social filters, approached her on a slow day with the biggest double chocolate chip cookie you could find and tried to strike up a conversation. She turned out to be just as nice as you thought she was, and two days later you finally asked if she liked the mysterious customer at her former table. She timidly admitted to having a crush and asked you to keep quiet about it. The next day you wrote into their cup about the cute girl in a cardigan and how she thought they looked cool.

Lysa and Rae are still customers, but they sit at the same table for four months now.

The following ones were easier. You would write in a piece that customer x told you they liked customer y and see where things went. You always befriended the customer first and then offered to help, and when they said yes you felt over-the-roof-happy. You were always social, but you never thought you’d have such an enormous amount of friends, all of whom were dating while you were still painfully single. It was nice though.

Everything was going great that particular day at the café. Andre had paid a visit to get Mina her usual smoked latte before class and invited you to a movie night at the weekend in her dorm. You had bonded with Mina through your shared guilty pleasure of watching cheesy love triangle dramas when you were sad, and her taste in movies was as close to yours as that of a soul buddy. You wished you had attended uni with them, it would have been so much fun.

But, however good the day was, there was still time for that to change. An hour before the end of your shift, a stupefying figure entered the coffee shop. A woman, so tall she could reach the 8’3 door head if she raised her hand, walked in and settled at one of the front window seats. Judging by her slightly nervous aura, you assumed she was waiting for a date.

There wasn’t much movement that time in the afternoon. Most people were working and the few customers around already had their orders, so you decided to go ask the recent arrival if she wanted something while she waited.

Getting closer, you noticed her whitish-blond hair looked very soft, as did her milky skin and overall presence. If it wasn’t for her height, you could say she would look very plain or unremarkable. A white woman, with blond hair and average proportions. That was before you rounded a table and saw her closer from the front. She had a very remarkable face. It was a combination of gentle eyebrows, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that somehow managed to not be threatening but disarmingly inviting.

“Excuse me,” you cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless as you felt, “Would you like to order?”

When she looked up from her phone, bright pools of arctic blue glued you to where you stood. If you walked, you were quite sure your legs would give out. She was nothing but exquisite, and suddenly you wished she was waiting for you, and that just this once you were the protagonist of the story.

“I’m sorry?” she prompted, and her voice, for everything that is good in the world, her voice sent chills through your skin even though it was an unusually hot autumn day.

“I just asked if you would like to order something.” You took out your notepad for something to look at other than the gorgeous stranger. “I can bring you something while you wait for…” it was quite shameless, but of course, you were fishing for information, “whatever you are waiting for,” you hoped she wouldn’t feel offended by your less-than-professional approach.

“I’m just waiting for a friend.” She gave you a small, timid smile, and gazed at the table, confirming she very much wasn’t waiting for a friend. “He won’t take long, so I’ll order when he arrives.”

You only nodded, instantaneously slaughtered of all hope and happiness at the kind dismissal. You returned to your place behind the counter and started cleaning already clean coffee machines and the spotless counter.

She was waiting for a he. Of course, that didn’t mean she was straight, and she was so beautiful you’d feel personally attacked if she was. Maggy noticed your state and tsked from the kitchen door.

“What is it? Someone didn’t want to chat?” you usually felt disappointed when some people gave you hints they wanted to be left alone. You wouldn’t annoy a customer for the life of you, but it did make you pout.

When she approached the counter to look at you, however, her eyebrow arched, and a smug smirk twisted her face.

“Ooh, am I seeing a rejected puppy?” her pretentious tone made your lips twitch. She was teasing you, but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of making you laugh.

"Not rejected. You know I don't flirt with clients, it's creepy enough when they do it to me."

"Oh, so what would you call it then? Friendly banter?" you snorted ungracefully. It was true you were comfortable with teasing, flirting and sometimes even catcalling your friends. What could you say? You loved embarrassing and complimenting them, it was just the perfect means.

"Yes, friendly banter. Not everyone is smoking hot like you to be able to flirt and be taken seriously, you know," you arched an eyebrow and she threw a napkin at you.

"You're impossible!" she kissed you on the cheek before returning to the kitchen for more goods.

Half an hour had passed and the woman's date still hadn't arrived. You pondered going back there and offering something again, but you imagined she'd feel uncomfortable with you noticing she was possibly being stood up. Your bones hurt with the want to go strike up a conversation and distract her from the douchebag that was making her wait, but at the same time, your heart raced in panic at the thought of talking to her.

It was some time since you'd had a crush on a person. Even being a hopeless romantic, you didn't have many opportunities to find anyone attractive in your day-to-day life. You lived close to the campus, so taking the subway to work wasn't necessary. You spent your day at the coffee shop and it always felt like breaching an unspoken rule to fancy a client (even though you admitted some were very aesthetically pleasing), and all your friends were spoken for and their friends were usually on college so a few years younger and that didn't do it for you. So it was very curious to finally feel it again, and for a client to make matters worse.

"Ok, stop ogling her, you'll bore a hole on her neck like this" Maggy mused, bringing the rest of the pastries.

You let out a defeated breath. "You're right, I have work to do and no time for this kind of thing."

"Woah there, you seem to have thought a lot of things in the five minutes it took me to get back, huh?"

You did, and she might not have the knowledge of what went on in your head, but you knew she understood your conclusion. How did she come to know you so well was beyond you, but you guessed five months of friendship and almost uninterrupted proximity did that.

"You know it's not for me." You shrugged and noting she was about to object you excused yourself saying you'd get more excelsa beans.

When your shift was close to end, the woman was still there. She wasn't waiting anymore, you noticed. She was idly taking notes on a small pad and listening to music. She didn't look too affected by the guy not showing up. Maybe she suspected it would happen, or it wasn't the first time, you didn't know but her nonchalance about it made your chest tighten.

Before you could change your mind, you chose one of the biggest triple chocolate ganache palm-sized cookies from the display case and prepared an iced vanilla latte to go. You put the two in a paper tray and fake-power-walked to her, willing yourself to feel the smallest amount of confidence. You were the chatty one of the group, why was it so difficult to act normal with her too?

"Hey, hello..." great start, "Ahem, my shift is almost ending and since I couldn't help you earlier with your order I thought I would bring this to you." You smiled and were almost sure you did ok.

Until she looked up from her notepad with shimmery eyes, and your smile fell. She had not been so nonchalant then.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do I have to order to stay here?" she seemed confused while looking between you and the tray you placed in front of her.

"No! No, I just thought you'd like something sweet," you were nervous like you haven't been for a long time, "I don't know... you just seemed like the type..."

"That likes sweets?" her small voice made sent shivers through your arms, she sounded so fragile, looking at your offer with something akin to wonder.

"Yes. Sorry. When you work here for a while you pick up on these things. If you don't though, I can take it back-"

"No!" she interrupted you, briskly circling a hand to your pulse when you made it to take the tray away and looked at you with a bewildered expression. "Sorry! I do like sweets." She let you go as rapidly as she touched you, chest flaring red, she avoided your eyes and cleared her throat. "Thank you, it is very nice of you," with that, she smiled, almost beamed, and you could only nod and get the hell away from her as fast as you could.

While desperately changing into your own clothes, you jumped at the sound of Dave entering the locker room.

"Shit, sorry!" he exclaimed, looking at you from head to toe. He was a quieter friend, but very perceptive, "So Maggy wasn't joking," he smiled.

"Please, not you too."

He laughed, "I won't tease you for being human. Everyone has a crush from time to time."

"Shut up! I don't have a crush." You finished tying your shoe. "And even if I do, she's probably straight or has a boyfriend."

"So you thought about it."

"SHUT UP!" you couldn't help but laugh and as you closed the back door to the alley you heard him laughing too.

You didn't pay too much mind to your thoughts of the beautiful stranger in the following days. She would likely never go back to the shop and if she did it would take a while and your attraction would have died down.

When she came not three days after, you cursed and ran to the kitchen.

"What are you doing, we need you outside," Maggy furrowed her brow softly.

"Could you please go there for a few minutes? I can finish icing," you pleaded, already taking the bag from her hand; she gave you a strange look but said fine.

Not a moment after she entered the kitchen again with a pleased smile. "Y/n you insufferably adorable idiot, go back out there and serve your customer!" she pointed at the door, and you made a show of slumping your shoulders and pouting while you made your way out front.

The woman was at the counter, she had a light frown, as if a bit confused with something, and startled when you said, "Good morning, how may I serve you?" in your best impression of a customer-service-friendly tone.

"Oh! Hi," she beamed at you, "Nice seeing you again!" Fuck she was gorgeous, "I would like the drink you gave me the other time, I really liked it."

You didn't know if the swell of pride in your ribcage was for being such a kick-ass barista or because of the happiness on her face from your accurate assumption.

"Coming right up!" you started making her drink, pleased with yourself, "Will you want anything to eat, as well?"

"No, if I do my co-workers will want it too," she chuckled and you got a to-go cup. When you handed it to her, she looked puzzled. "How did you know...?"

"The time," you filled in when she didn't elaborate, "Lots of people come before work and the ones that stay are usually students."

She hummed, eyebrows going up with a soft smile, "What about elders?" she handed you payment, exact change with an extra A$2,00 coin. Hot and a good tipper? This woman has no shame.

"We have only one couple and they come a bit later in the day," you smiled, accepting the money.

"Well, thank you then," she awkwardly lifted the cup and gave you one last, sheepish smile, before leaving.

You were so very screwed.

She kept coming. Day after day, she came in at the same hour and asked for the same drink. You offered some variations a few times, but she always went back to the first you made her. You stopped pretending you weren't smug for getting it so right.

Today was raining softly, autumn was settling in finally and cold afternoons were now a guarantee rather than a wish. You heard the doorbell and looked up to see Mina skipping to the counter with a scarf-hidden smile. Her nose was rosy as well as her cheeks which turned her eyes into thin joyful lines.

"Hey, lover! I missed you this weekend." She fake-pouted and you began making her usual.

"Sorry, I worked Dave's shift on Saturday and forgot to let you know."

"It's fine, but only if you go to the next one. If you don't, I'll stop being your friend!" she joked, sitting on one of the stools to watch you make her drink.

"Ok, dear 8-year-old cousin," she laughed and you changed topics to what movies they watched and how you regretted losing Toni's shock-filled eyes at New Moon's 'hot vampire royalty' as Mina said he put it. For someone who said they hated Twilight, you were happy for their growth.

After some more gossip, Mina grabbed her coffee and fled to class with a kiss on your cheek.

It was past mid-afternoon; your shift was slowly nearing its end and you were grateful for bringing an umbrella. It would probably be still raining when you got out.

When she walked through the door half an hour later, though, you wished you had more time. Her hair was a bit damp, and she had a sports jacket on. Maybe she left work around that hour because it was close to the one, she came to the shop the first time.

Try not to be a stalker, you weirdo, you thought to yourself while she approached.

"Hello there," she had her usual easy smile on. So beautiful.

"Hey, what will it be?" you could almost act normal now, the result of prolonged exposure, you assumed.

"You know," she shrugged, leaning on the counter lazily.

You started preparing her drink with a small smile and Maggy shook her head at you, rolling her eyes dramatically before leaving for the kitchen. She had nothing to do in there anymore.

"Tough day at work?"

"Oh, the usual. Paperwork mostly, it's been a while since there's been any excitement." She shrugged, but soon fixed her posture and shook her head frowning. "Not that I want anything to happen. If paperwork is the price, it's fine by me."

Curious comment. You didn't know what she did, you realized you didn't even know her name. You fantasized about leaning over the counter and kissing her silly but could not say who she was. How could it be that through an entire week, you hadn't even caught her name; usually it took you one conversation and the next you would set her up with someone from the shop. Of course, you weren't inclined to do that with her particularly, because of reasons.... but it was rather odd.

"Sorry, I don't think I ever asked your name," you turned to place her order on the counter, not on a to-go cup this time.

"Oh my god, that's true! I only know yours from your tag, it never crossed my mind I didn't have mine on!"

So her work requires wearing tags... Fuck, I'm a creep.

"I'm Miranda." She extended her hand for you to shake, it was just as soft as it looked. You imagined what being caressed by it would feel like... or a massage... or other things.

Shaking your head, you leaned to kiss her hand, rather than shake it. Out of your control, really. You simply could not lose the opportunity.

She looked to the floor, biting her smile. You could not see the red in her chest this time, but her ears were blazing.

"I'll just-" she took the cup, looking at you and rapidly away again, "Thank you. I'll go sit now." You only nodded, amused and slightly euphoric but trying to keep it down, as you saw her go.

She sat on one of the front window tables, leaning on her elbow and pointedly looking at the rain.

Two days passed after that. It was almost the end of the month, and you didn't even find another potential couple to help. You were too busy daydreaming on the job to pay attention to the customers. Maggy would lose her bet, the poor baby.

It was the middle of your shift, so it took you by surprise when you saw the blond owner of your thoughts walking in.

“Hey!” Miranda approached the counter, her smile making quick work of warming your whole being. She was the best part of your day no matter what happened. You thought seeing her smile at you was worth more than winning the lottery. You could live without the money any day.

“Hello, there,” you smiled back, with your usual cheekiness. “Your usual, I presume?” You were almost beginning her latte when she interrupted you.

“No! No, today I’ll be having a cold brew and an espresso. Robin needs her caffeine.” At that, she pointed at a brunette walking slowly in. She looked waspish and you could easily believe she was one of those people who were very grumpy before their first cup of coffee. “I’m her partner,” she leant over the counter and whispered to you like it was an exciting secret. She looked so proud you felt nauseous.

So she had a partner; a week after being stood up. It was understandable, she was a smoke show, funny and adorable all at once. How could she not have a mile-long line of people waiting for a chance? It still disappointed you that you weren’t the choice.

“Do you want me to grind?” you asked, absentmindedly leaning down to search for the good beans. At the silence, you turned to see her. She was turning red very fast, then you realised what you said and almost dropped the bean’s package on the floor, “The beans! Do you want me to grind the beans? You know… so the shots are nice and fresh.” Jesus, good one.

“Yes…” she gazed at the floor for a second and shook her head before looking back at you. “Sorry, I was just distracted… by stuff…" she pressed her lips in a thin line and looked in any other direction than yours. “I’ll just- I’ll just sit there.”

And off she was.

“Could you be less of a flirt? Not everyone can pull girls like a magnet and it’s offensive,” your co-worker’s voice woke you from your trance. Maggy was coming with a tray of fresh cakes.

“Shut up… it was her.” You tried to recompose yourself, your week’s worth of daydreams turning sour as you saw her walk to the back table where her “partner” was. Miranda liked the front window, why did that woman seat in the only corner with no view of the street and the farthest possible from the door?

“Ooh, so you’re finally admitting it.” She began to arrange the sweets in flower-like patterns on the display case, still smiling to herself.

“You only listened to my screw-up. She has a girlfriend,” you didn’t mean to sound so snippy, but you felt angry tears forming in your eyes and couldn’t stop tapping your left foot faster and faster.

Maggy noticed it in your tense posture and tight face, and before you knew it she was shoving you into the kitchen and asking Dave to cover outside.

Incredible. Just magnificent. She had a girlfriend, because of course she did, and you foolishly invested time and hope planning to ask her out and imagining all the stupid little dates you wanted to take her to and all the stupid little things you would do to make her smile. Great.

“Hey, come here…” Mag’s voice was no more than a whisper, bringing you to her chest while you very pointedly didn’t cry.

Your chest was rising and falling erratically with your half-swallowed sobs and your face hurt from all the muscles you strained to keep from letting it all out.

Maggy knew you wouldn’t cry. You were too stubborn for that, too chagrined with yourself to allow release. After less than a minute, you pushed yourself out of her arms, face sullen and voice hoarse.

“They ordered a cold brew and an expresso. I feel suddenly sick, can I go home?” you didn’t feel sick, she knew it too, but she only said:

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll cover for you.”

You nodded, never meeting her eyes, perpetually looking at the ground as you walked to the staff changing rooms and then home.

While walking home that afternoon, you caught the rain. You’d seen the weather report, but you left in such a hurry that you forgot your umbrella and didn't feel like going back to get it.

You got actually sick. The next morning you woke up sweating, feeling every muscle in your body hurting. It was nine, so you were already late. You called your boss to tell him you had a fever and he said Mag had already told him you didn’t feel very well the day before. He gave you the weekend off and ended with a kind “get better soon”; he was a nice boss.

You spent said weekend in bed. When you felt less horrible you took a shower and changed the sheets, prepared some soup and ate on the sofa while watching the news.

Apparently, there was a gang targeting young girls from the university near the Rainbow. All the police could tell at the moment was that they were being abducted after hours when leaving the campus for a night out. What they did to them after was a mystery you felt like throwing up just thinking about. You texted Mina to know if the group was safe; they were, but also very scared.

“The police detective in charge of the case, Robin Griffin, couldn’t disclose any more information,” the anchor’s voice sounded while a picture of a sulking brunette appeared on your screen.

It was her: Miranda’s partner. A police detective of all things.

Of course, Miranda would date some mysterious, grumpy detective that fought for the innocent and had a secret soft side she never showed anyone except for Miranda. It was the perfect ray of sunshine/rainy cloud couple half of the young adult fantasies had.

You wondered what Miranda did for work. You shouldn't be thinking about her, but you couldn't help it. All you knew was that she used a tag, and that didn't reduce your options all that much. You had to get her out of your brain.

After finishing eating and taking another shower, you went to bed early to get some healthy twelve hours of sleep before returning to work. With any luck, Miranda wouldn't come so soon.

You weren't very lucky, as proven by the relationship status of the person you madly wanted.

Miranda came again the next morning, accompanied by her detective girlfriend, Robin Griffin.

"Morning!" she was cherry as all the other times she greeted you but now it caused you physical pain to see her smile and attribute her happiness to the sulking jackass at the back booth.

Maybe you were being too harsh if Miranda was dating the woman she had probably a reason but you chose to ignore it as an outlet for all your negative thoughts and feelings.

"Good morning, how may I serve you today?" you said in a practised monotone, customer smile on your face.

A little line formed between her eyebrows and your fingers itched to smooth it away.

"Hum, I'll accept a suggestion today." she observed herself drum her fingers on the counter, "And Robin wants a cold brew again."

You nodded, starting with a white chocolate mocha and ignoring the figure leaning her weight on the counter.

"You can grind-" you heard her start and stop for a few seconds, "the beans for Robin's, she never commented on coffee before but last time you made it she said it was really good."

"Last time I made it?" you cursed your curiosity, "Someone else made you two coffee?"

Technically, the only time you made coffee for them you only started the grinder and fled, so Maggy was the one to finish it.

"Yeah... we came on Saturday to straighten some things. I like the atmosphere here and Robin didn't mind coming again."

Straighten some things? Were they having fights? None of your business in any case but... were they? You only hummed in response.

You placed her drink on the counter and started the second. Noticing you wouldn't start talking again, Miranda cleared her throat and looked to the side. Why couldn't she look you in the face today? It was normal for her to blush and avert her eyes sometimes when you talked but she seemed incapable of keeping eye contact for five seconds today.

"I like your shirt," she commented, out of nowhere.

"It's my uniform? But thanks?" what in the seven hells?

You finished the second drink and thanked whoever listening for her silent departure. Her awkward nod still made your chest constrict though.

This time there was no Maggy to witness your suffering, instead, it was Dave who was bringing the new arrivals and decided to lean against the door and watch.

"Shut up," you breathed as soon as you saw his smirk.

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking."

"Oh, come on, she was obviously flirting with you!" you hated that you agreed with him, it felt like flirting — hesitant and weird but flirting.

"Her girlfriend is sitting right there, she was not flirting with me just five meters away from her," if you said it out loud one more time maybe you could convince yourself.

"Well, or she's very clueless, or devilishly smart." He shrugged and started putting away some gourmet-looking packages underneath the counter.

Later that day you were still thinking of Miranda's strange behaviour. Dave wasn't one for gossip, but this time he opted to completely ignore that and conspire with Maggy about what were Miranda's intentions with you, quite loudly, just a few feet away. They were insufferable sometimes.

After a few hours of little giggles and middle school singsongs, you mistrusted the sudden silence. Dave, oddly enough, was cleaning the expresso machine serenely while Mag was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did Maggy go?" you asked, walking to the kitchen door and peering through the circle window. She was on her back having a phone call.

"Her boyfriend called, don't know what's about but she looked strange when she came in."

A few moments after, Maggy slowly opened the door and peeked from it, "Y/n, can I talk to you for a sec?" she asked, an uncertain tinge in her voice.

"Sure..." you followed her in.

Once inside, you heard her let out a long breath, "Ok, so I know I only covered for you days ago and that it sounds opportunistic as shit, but could you cover the end shift for me? Markus had an accident playing basketball and needs me to get him at the hospital" her tortured face was the cherry on top of your hellish day.

"Of course, I'll cover for you! What happened?"

"He fractured his ankle, that's why I need to get him; he probably won't be able to walk around the house very well too."

"You're fine, go get him. I don't have anything better to do anyway, bug." You kissed her cheek and rushed her into the staff rooms.

Closing wasn't so bad. Today was raining again but you had your umbrella and wouldn't forget it this time. After swiping the floor and checking the kitchen for stoves on and the like, you closed everything and went home.

Every day it got darker and darker around this time. You didn't notice before because you usually were at home, but now you wished you had charged your phone for some extra light. The rain was thick, and you couldn't even hear your steps. The umbrella didn't do much to shield your legs, which were drenched up to the knees.

After a few blocks, the streetlights got dimmer, the shops and public spaces being substituted by tall apartment buildings. You decided to hurry a bit and ignore the shiver on the back of your neck; soon you would reach home.

Well, not really. You felt before you saw the group of four people nearing you. When you thought of sprinting, one of them caught up to you and held you back with strong arms around your middle and one hand covering your mouth. You trashed, trying to free yourself, but they only shushed you sounding amused. The other three joined and they led you to one of the corridors between brick buildings. You couldn't see a thing, only feel rough fingers in your face and the prickly feeling of days-old facial hair on your ear as a hoarse voice breathed on your ear.

"Be a good girl and stay quiet. It'll be a lot less painful for you."

You felt overwhelmed by panic, gagging in bile and trembling like a baby dear. You didn't know where the strength came from, but you freed your face desperately and screamed your lungs out for help. You didn't know if anyone would listen with the rain, you could barely hear yourself, but it could have something to do with the buzzing on your ears muffling all sound around you.

You stepped on his feet, kicked him and bit his arm but he wouldn't budge. He managed to put his hand over your mouth again, but you bit it until you heard him scream and tasted iron in your mouth. However, that only made him hold you tighter, hurting your ribcage, and the rest of the group came to aid him.

What they did was each try to get you under control, which meant none had a full grip on you, and throwing yourself against one worked for you to start running for your life in the direction of the streetlights. You didn't know if your screams were intelligible of even if they were loud enough to be screams, you couldn't hear, had no frame of reference.

You thought you saw the lights of a car turning the corner, but you didn't have the time to see. The same guy who had you before was jumping at you, crashing you against the asphalt with his body weight. You felt your skin burn. Arms and face glued to the street with the impact. Your head was ringing, and you only saw spots of light and unfocused shouting and around you, a very loud noise was the last thing you heard before it was all black.

You woke up feeling warm. There were quiet noises of clicking porcelain and muffled conversation to your left.

The sterile smell was what hinted at where you were, opening your eyes to bright white ceilings and empty beds around you. You were the only one in the room apart from the three people around the door.

Miranda, her girlfriend and a nurse. Oddly enough, Miranda was dressed as a police officer. What she was doing there you had no idea, in fact, you didn't even know why you were there.

You tried to sit, and all three looked at you. The nurse came over quickly and fussed around you, helping you sit, and asking how you felt. You didn't feel too bad, but there were some friction burns on your elbows and forearms that you could do without. Mostly it was just your head buzzing faintly.

"She said you might have a concussion," Miranda joined in, timidly placing her hand over one of yours resting beside you in the bed. You turned it so she could hold it if she wanted. You felt a pang when she did.

"The detective asked if you would be willing to answer some questions. I told her you might not be feeling well enough right now, but if you do I can tell her so." The nurse didn't seem too pleased talking about 'the detective', which reminded you of the movie hospital staff and made you smile.

"I don't know how much use I'd be," your voice was croaky as you looked from the nurse to Miranda, "I don't really know why I'm here."

She understood the question you didn't make and asked the nurse if she could talk with you alone. She seemed only partially agreeable but left anyway.

"You were attacked last night near the university," she said immediately, even if trying to sound softer, and her hand tighten around yours. "Why were you even out at that time in the rain?"

"I don't know... I worked the end shift?" you remembered Maggy asking you to and remembered closing and going out in the rain. Not much more than that.

"You were so lucky we decided to patrol the area, Jesus Christ," she was talking faster than normal, and you furrowed your brows, "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Why are you here? You aren't asking me any questions..." your head hurt too much to think at that moment. You just wanted some peace and not to have to stare at Miranda's face because your head and arms were enough things hurting.

"What? Because I care about you! Because I saw what those sick men were trying to do and I know how it'd end-" she choked in her hurried whisper. Was she about to cry? "You have no idea the terror I felt when I realized it was you the one on the floor. You weren't responding and all I could do was scream at Robin who somehow arrested three men on her own and still managed to call an ambulance."

Wow, there really was a reason Miranda dated her, then.

You felt exhausted all of a sudden. Emotionally and physically, you just needed some sleep and a hug and you leaned against Miranda for just that.

She took you in her arms, surprised but seemingly not against it. You sighed and swallowed the knot in your throat. It didn't help much. Why did you have to like her so much? Why was she so kind and caring even after knowing you for only two weeks? It was so unfair she was taken, the one person with whom you could envision making it work.

When you parted, Miranda still had her arms around you. She was searching for something on your face, staring earnestly into your eyes as if willing you to understand her. You could not for the life of you understand anything about that woman anymore. Here she was, holding you and comforting you after flirting with you at your place of work. Sending you all these mixed signals and expecting you not to fall for them.

She looked almost frustrated with your lack of understanding, then her eyes snapped to your lips for one second then looked back at you; brows furrowed and eyes pleading. Why did this have to be so complicated? You matched her look, gazing wantonly at her lips, just to torture yourself at not meeting them.

However, at your lack of action and obvious wish, Miranda made the decision and leaned in. You weren't expecting it, suddenly woke from your daydream to a very real pressure on your lips. She had strawberry lip balm on and tasted of tea. Hospital tea, the ones at the reception for people staying the night. She smelled of nothing other than her, no soap or sweat or anything, just her after a long night and possibly long morning of dealing with whatever resulted from the last night's occurrence. She felt like home, her arms around you bringing you close delicately, the pressing of her lips long and slow as if she was trying to convey this ineffable thing you couldn't understand when she looked at you. It was beautiful and sweet and so painful you had to stop.

"But what about Robin?" you whispered against her lips.

"What about Robin?"

"I'm so confused, aren't you dating Robin? Your detective 'partner'?" and as you said it, everything clicked together "Oh, no-" You hid your face in Miranda's chest, feeling silly for all the bitterness and jealousy you indulged for the last week, but also hating yourself for all the unnecessary heartache. "You and Robin are partners, as in you work together on cases, correct?"

"Yes... I thought that was rather obvious..." Her arms tightened around you and she made soothing circles between your shoulders. "I think we even discussed the case in the coffee shop. I thought you heard us."

"I might have misunderstood," your voice was muffled by your face pressed onto her uncomfortable, bumpy, vest. You heard her chuckle, and she took a step back, with her index under your chin prompting you to look at her. She had a mischievous grin and an arched brow.

"Did you think we were together?" you only nodded, "And were you jealous?" at that, her grin went from mischievous to an earnest, excited smile. She was too pure for this world.

You didn't respond, only looked to the side screwing your face up to avoid the relieved smile.

"No, c'mon, I want to hear it," her voice carried a note of amusement, but she only looked kind when tilting your face to look at her again.

"I might have..." she huffed a small laugh "No! Shut up! Listen-" you could not control your smile at her looking so delighted "It's your fault that you were so adorable that first day and accepted my coffee like it was the best thing ever! It was just coffee and a cookie, and you looked unreasonably happy! And after that you kept coming and coming more frequently to my god-blessed queer café and flirting and looking shy and beautiful, what did you expect me to feel? Are you kidding me? This was all your fault, you menace! So, of course, I was jealous when you appeared with a dark and mysterious stranger and sat in the most private corner possible to whisper to each other like teenagers thinking they’re being subtle!"

"Ok, I realize you are very passionate about this," she laughed softly, bringing you to a hug again. "But you forgot that you were flirting mercilessly with me and that I never asked you to stop." She had a point, but again there were people who liked being flirted with, even when they were in relationships. You didn't think Miranda was like that, though.

"I know, but I'm allowed to be a bit irrational about this..." your volume decreased as you finished the sentence.

"You're pouting," she whispered to match you, "Why?"

Taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with her. Here goes nothing. "Because you're my coffee shop romance," you said trying to sound confident. At her lack of response for more than five seconds, you backtracked, "That is if you'd like to be. I shouldn't have assumed, you-"

"Jesus, shut up-" she said and smashed your lips together.

The kiss wasn't too dextrous, both of you smiling too much and too eager for it to work properly, but it was the best thing in the world.

"Not Jesus, but I'll let it pass this time," you murmured against her lip when you slowed down. She was peppering chaste, slightly long kisses on your lips and face.

"Shut up," you heard her smile before feeling it in your skin.

"You'll have to make me," you breathed back.

Decided to put notes at the end. I posted this one here because of the ask, but I hope you liked it and that I lived up to your expectations! I had a lot of fun writing this one, so thank you so much and sorry for the long post 💛

[bp-zb1fics]

hello !! could u write something with jeonghyeon and reader in school like they are already dating, and it would be about them being the "famous" couple in their school !! lijeong being a genius and the reader being dumb like an airhead but she really kind and all. teachers and students could be teasing them about being an odd couple haha

So without meaning

pairing: leejeong x reader

genre: highschool au (same verse as shy,shy,shy and tall& handsome), fluff

tw/tags: sort of character study, class couple, mean girls reference, flirting, kisses, woongki being salty, leejeong simp agenda as usual

wc: 756

summary: it’s not that you were an odd couple, more like you were smart in different ways.

a/n Kind of put a spin on the req but I hope you like it anon~ it's also super late so there's that but these weeks have been rough tbh. also anyone who doesn't get the mean girls reference, jail for you jk

check my pinned for more fics!

When Gyuvin first transferred, Gunwook and Junhyeon made it their mission to introduce him to everything that there was to know about their highschool, sort of like those 90’s teen movies. So far, they’ve done a decent job. 

Gyuvin now knows they served donkatsu at the cafeteria every second Tuesday, how to not piss off Baek Kooyoung-seongsaengnim and every notable class couple that he shouldn’t get in the middle of.

Case in point, you.

It wasn’t that you were stupid. No, definitely not. Maybe you made stupid decisions sometimes but doesn’t everyone? Sure, you weren’t the brightest bulb in the box (is that the correct analogy?) but you made do. You got decent grades, teachers liked you even if you had a tendency to daydream during class. And it helped that you were really nice in the very unintentionally genuinely good way that very few people were these days.

It’s just- your boyfriend was-

“That’s Lee Jeonghyeon.” Junhyeon whispers to Gyuvin as they watch the older boy walk down the hallway towards you. “Genius, sort of a lone wolf, all sorts of rumours floating around him.”

“What kind of rumours?”

[insert unnecessary montage]

“Lee Jeonhyeon is flawless.”

“He has an endless supply of bracelets and only owns green sweaters.”

“I hear his jawline is insured for 10 million won.”

“I hear he does underground rapping.”

“His favourite colour is green.”

“One time, he got recruited by this company and they told him he could be an idol.”

“One time, he punched me for trying to kiss him.” A pause. Cha Woongki takes the time to flip his hair before sighing wistfully. “It was so hot.”

[end montage]

Gyuvin’s eyes have grown twice their original size in disbelief. Junhyeon nods solemnly. Meanwhile, you and your boyfriend are none the wiser. In fact, he’s completely preoccupied by you grabbing his hand, chattering about something brightly as you tug him towards the cafeteria.

Most of the students give you a wide berth. But that’s probably because your boyfriend is at least 185 cm and looks like he can cut a bitch on a good day. It was also sort of interesting, the contrast between you, like a manhwa plot coming to life. The resident genius and the bubbly airhead, complete opposites and completely enamoured by each other.

“Jeonghyeoniee,”

The withering look that your boyfriend gives Park Hanbin would probably deter anyone else. But Park Hanbin is a dazzling force of nature with a brilliant smile and military commander-like focus when he gets invested in something. Trailing behind him is Kim Taerae, resident class-crush with his church-oppa like charms and soft, sweet voice.

“What do you want?”

Maybe Jeonghyeon would look more intimidating if he currently wasn’t letting you feed him like a petulantly adorable child, practically glued to your side, holding your other hand under the table. You ignore the other boys, bringing another spoonful of rice and meat to his lips.

“Thank you aegiya.”

“You’re welcome, Leejeong-yah.”

“God, I hate love.” Woongki fake gags from the other side of the table.

“Wow, way to be single and bitter.” Hanbin shoots back, the other gasping dramatically.

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“No fighting!” You insist after swallowing the bite your boyfriend fed you. Woongki coos at you.

“Oh my poor, innocent baby, how did our big, bad Jeonghyeonie manage to score someone as sweet as you?”

“Woongki-ah, I punched you once, I can do it again.” Jeonghyeon grits out before obediently opening his mouth so you can feed him.

“Oh please do,” The other boy says way too eagerly. You sigh. And they said you were the dumb one when you could clearly see your boyfriend being played. Also your food was finished and you kinda wanted one of those pudding cups that they brought out after you had sat down with your trays.

“Leejeong-yah?”

“Yes aegiya?”

“Want pudding.” You pout, You really don’t need to. Your boyfriend stands up right away and goes over to the counter to fetch one for you. Woongki rolls his eyes, applauding you slowly.

“Ugh, your power. Literally you need to tell me how to get a boy completely whipped like that.”

You shrug. Jeonghyeon comes back with your much-desired pudding cup, proffering you a spoonful.

“Leejeong-yah, kiss?”

The rest of the table groans as he leans down and gives you a peck shamelessly. You smile and eat your pudding, stealing more kisses in between spoonfuls. Jeonghyeon might be a genius but he wasn’t the only smart one in the relationship.

[kohakun]

title » dating hcs

pairing » natsume sakasaki & leo tsukinaga x gn!reader

requested? » yes

genre » fluff

a/n » i lied when i said id post this earlier, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

➳ natsume sakasaki

✧ natsume can either be the sweetest boyfriend ever or the biggest menace you've ever seen. it really depends on his mood.

✧ on some days, he constantly holds your hand, helps you with your homework, buys you snacks, lets you sit in his lap while he conducts experiments and gives you compliments about every single aspect of you

✧ on other days, he's avoiding all of your attempts at kissing him just to spite you, teasing you about the smallest things and frustrating you on purpose. please smack him.

✧ he just likes to see you mad at him, he loves provoking you. most of the time he's really sweet, though.

✧ if you like to drink coffee, tea, boba, energy drinks or anything of the sort, he'll buy it for you all the time; it's practically a part of his routine now.

✧ he also likes to buy you things that remind him of you like crystals of your favourite colour or things you've been wanting for a while. can you tell i hc that his love language is gift giving yet

✧ he's not too big on pda, but when he gets jealous.. all of his reluctance concerning it disappears — and he gets jealous very very easily, especially when it comes to tsumugi.

✧ whenever you talk to tsumugi, you'll see natsume giving him the most disgusted stare you've ever seen. honestly he's like this with everybody he thinks has been hogging too much of your attention.

✧ when this drags on for too long, he'll eventually grow tired and either hug you from behind while giving the person in front of you a nasty glare or hold your hand and tug on it it while making some poor excuse to leave.

✧ he really likes cafe dates because you two can talk on and on about everything and nothing. study dates with him are also frequent but you two tend to get distracted because neither of you can shut up in the other's presence. he also loves shopping dates and refuses to let you pay.

✧ will text you at the most random times because he wants attention. you could be in class and he'd text you to come to the secret library and you're like '??? did something happen?', but he just wanted a kiss.

✧ very clingy, but refuses to admit it. he really likes to hold your hand whenever you're near him and likes to lay his head in your lap when he's tired, but whenever you bring it up, he calls those instances 'moments of weakness'. please smack him. (2)

✧ he's so soft for you. he'll never say it out loud, but his actions speak loud enough already <3

➳ leo tsukinaga

✧ leo is a very,, energetic lover, to say the least. is he incredibly sweet? yes. will he give you a few headaches along the way? also yes.

✧ he really likes physical affection and is very clingy — he gives you hugs as a greeting and fully expects you to pick him up and spin him around. he loves giving you cheek kisses at any point in time.

✧ has no qualms about pda; he can and will glue himself to your side wherever you are. izumi is so tired of you at this point, you'll catch him looking at you two with a grimace on his face when you're being affectionate.

✧ he's very spontaneous about dates. he's the type of partner that considers all the time he spends with you as a date. however, his favourite kind of dates are amusement park dates or picnic dates.

✧ he's a horrid cuddler, i'm sorry. he can't stay still and he has to switch the position he's lying in every 5 seconds, but he clings onto you whenever he's sleeping regardless of this </3

✧ he does this cute thing where he holds both of your hands in his and jumps around when he's excited, it's so adorable

✧ whenever he has to write a romantic song for knights, he uses you as his muse. you're his muse in general, honestly. he loves having you around when he's writing lyrics — you'll see him intensely staring at you for inspiration before a grin breaks out on his face and he continues to focus on the paper he's writing on.

✧ he loves to talk to you about his day. when he comes home, you'll see him dragging you to the living room, sitting you both down and start to talk your ear off about what happened that day. if for some reason he can't come over, he'll call you instead.

✧ he texts you very often and it's mostly random pictures he took throughout the day. he loves to send these to you because he thinks that having you witness what happens throughout his day makes up for the fact that you two aren't together at that moment.

✧ your relationship is so sickeningly sweet that everyone is so tired of seeing it <3

[sassykinzonline]

What was your Coachella of 2016?

Basically the outfits you wore throughout the years (doesn’t matter if we only see them once) and rate them and why you wore them?!

thank you for elaborating because i have 0 idea what coachella is

i cant be bothered to find an individual picture for all of these so heres a reference and i'll just talk about them in order

kiddo fit : was comfy and matched my brother, 6/10. could be more individual and fun, but was sentimental.

new graduate fit: still comfy, unique colour for the uchiha. i think i chose that shade of blue because it made a statement without being....garish. i wanted to separate myself from my brother. short-sleeves because i run pretty hot. 7/10, still basic but more individual.

genin fit: iconic. form, style, and function, as i mentioned in a different ask, the leg and arm warmers worked to hide ninja tools like my strings. 10/10, i think when most people think of me they think of this.

chunin exam fit: this one was a functional outfit. i spent pretty much all that time training in the middle of nowhere with a technique that was dangerous and painful. the bandages and the braces are to help stabilize my arms for the chidori without being a fire hazard like the arm and leg warmers would've been. i also had a lot of burns and sprains that i needed to treat while still training. 5/10, at least it's useful but i'm not proud of the fact that i chose a romper because rock lee wore a jumpsuit.

otogakure fit: another iconic fit. this is actually a combination of function and a fashion statement. the hakama was open because i didnt want to buy new clothes every time i used my curse mark. the obi and the blue cloth help me carry kusanagi while also maintaining the samurai silhouette. to be brief, i represented myself as a samurai because i was single-mindedly dedicated to the honour of my clan. 10/10, perfect.

renegade fit: this is actually my favourite outfit. it was comfortable both in terms of fabric and movement. i like the colours. i think it's attractive and makes me look dangerous. the bandages were necessary but still look cool, and the ones on my forehead make you wonder "is he reclaiming konoha?" 11/10.

akatsuki fit: my hair was a disaster so i kind of wish i had made more use of the hood. at the same time though, i wanted the fear that my face and the akatsuki cloak combined would inspire. 4/10, the only points here really come from the improvement on the cloak. youre welcome obito.

konoha crush pt 2 fit: i...am ambivalent towards this look. it kept me cool and it looked nice. i think the return to the short sleeves was some sort of reclamation of my youth, but it also feels confused and speaks to my mental state. it made me recognizable but still not exactly the same as before. 8/10.

vote 2 fit: i mean...the silhouette changed to something really similar to my brother's clothes under his cloak. the clothes were torn. im glad i wore short sleeves since i ended up losing an arm. 4/10, somehow the result of a lot of effort and no effort at the same time.

from this point on, i didnt actually wear any of these outfits as they are so i'll just comment on what i like and what i actually wore.

10. ronin fit: so i did wear a headband but i wore it under my bangs, but that was because i used a bow often to hunt for food. i think this outfit is ugly and im annoyed at it. 3/10 for the poncho. i did wear a poncho type thing, but i wore it more like the otogakure outfit--folded down around my waist for access to my weapons but easy to pull back over myself for warmth. i wore a long sleeved mesh shirt for compression to help with the phantom pains in my arm, and a shirt and pants that looked like my brother's but in a darker blue. you can imagine something similar to what gaara wore the first time we met him with the asymmetrical visual of a japanese archery uniform. in my mind i was thinking more artemis/ancient greece.

11. interpol fit: i dont hate this but i dont love it. it doesnt really fit for the purposes i wouldve been using it for because it just stands out a lot and looks like a military outfit. 4/10 because it's not ugly, but the form betrays the function. in actuality i wore something similar to the renegade fit, just in more plain colours and a full haori. think a farmer's outfit in tan with black accents and black pants. dark blue haori over everything to keep warm and look plain. i was trying to blend in with civilians.

12. dad fit: i feel like this is something more like what itachi would wear at that age, but i do like it. the cloak seems cumbersome at this point though, i would overheat fast. 7/10. since im nowhere near this age, i'll comment on what i wear these days for missions. it's pretty similar to the renegade fit as well, but the hakama is left fully open and worn more like a vest. in a kendo uniform, you tie up the sleeves but in my case i tie them up to essentially make the hakama sleeveless. i just wear a somewhat loose tank top under that. picture charasuke. on the bottom i wear athletic shorts that i suppose are similar to the ones i wore as a genin but longer and maybe a bit looser. long shin guards and ninja sandals as well, so it looks a bit similar to the bottom of the otogakure era clothing but more kendo than samurai. colours vary but i tend to keep it all black, grey tank top. if im feeling festive then grey shorts, black tank top, blue hakama. i do own an orange tank top thanks to naruto. naruto also made me a necklace with just one pearl on it. it looks both like the full moon but also his sun mark, so it's nice.

around the village i just wear a dark blue haori with sweats and a t-shirt. nothing too interesting because konoha doesnt deserve that from me.

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 1 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

The Book of the War

Synopsis

The Great Houses: Immovable. Implacable. Unchanging. Old enough to pass themselves off as immortal, arrogant enough to claim ultimate authority over the Spiral Politic.

The Enemy: Not so much an army as a hostile new kind of history. So ambitious it can re-write worlds, so complex that even calling it by its name seems to underestimate it.

Faction Paradox: Renegades, ritualists, saboteurs and subterfugers, the criminal-cult to end all criminal-cults, happy to be caught in the crossfire and ready to take whatever's needed from the wreckage… assuming the other powers leave behind a universe that's habitable.

The War: A fifty-year-old dispute over the two most valuable territories in existence: "cause" and "effect."

Marking the first five decades of the conflict, THE BOOK OF THE WAR is an A to Z of a self-contained continuum and a complete guide to the Spiral Politic, from the beginning of recordable time to the fall of humanity. Part story, part history and part puzzle-box, this is a chronicle of protocol and paranoia in a War where the historians win as many battles as the soldiers and the greatest victory of all is to hold on to your own past…

Propaganda

Is it about Dr Who? I mean, sort of. Arguably. You could say the Doctor is present in it. Somewhat. Not by name tho because that would be illegal. But definitely there are uh. well. there's definitely stuff in it that's DWesque. It's Dr Who Adjacent. It's Dr Whoish. Strong Dr Who vibes. (@eighthdoctor )

Experimental sci-fantasy that defined the Time War and started a whole series of its own. (anonymous)

This Town Will Never Let Us Go

Synopsis

From up here you can see it all, hear it all, taste most of it and feel the rest when the electric lights and the satellite signals prickle against your skin. The town, from midnight to six, marked out in headlights and the flash-fire of a culture in War-time. Séance-messages written in the patterns of the road signs, and ghost-transmissions scrambled into the background noise of the traffic. Animal scent-signals from the fried food stands. All describing something, buried under the tarmac and the street-geometry.

Down there, a girl in a fake-bone mask is working on a ritual to bring it to the surface. A popular performing artiste with a navel stud and serious identity problems is finding herself stalked — literally — by her own image. An ambulance crewman is about to find his own way of getting involved in the War.

And bringing them all together, in one neat little urban mythology, there's Faction Paradox - part cult, part subculture, part pop phenomenon, and part criminal syndicate, either watching-without-being-seen or simply not existing at all (at least until someone invents it). Assuming they're not wholly imaginary, the archons of the Faction seem like the only ones who know what this town really is - what every town really is — and what's bound to happen when it wakes up.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

Of the City of the Saved…

Synopsis

For Humanity, the War is over...

We all remember Resurrection Day. Even now, three centuries later, we cannot forget that awakening: our bewilderment, our terror and our joy. Each of us had experienced death, imagining ourselves bound for oblivion, Heaven or Nirvana, according to taste. Instead, we found, each member of the many human species — from tool-wielding australopithecines to posthuman philosopher-gods — had been harvested, gathered here by the Founders’ unfathomable technologies.

Reborn in our countless immortal bodies, we were given the freedom of the City of the Saved. A single conurbation as broad as a spiral galaxy, she has been our sanctuary from the ravages of the War. That monstrous conflict between inhuman cultures cannot touch us here: we live our afterlives beyond the end of time, in perfect safety.

We may be certain, therefore, that these rumours of a murder (the brutal stabbing of a City Councillor, no less!) are nothing more than lurid fabrications. The supposition that the murder weapon is missing, or that it could have been — as hysterical conjecture has claimed — a "potent weapon", capable of injuring a Citizen within the haven of the City, is equally absurd. The idea that a guerrilla war has already begun in one of our less harmonious enclaves need not be dignified with refutation.

Please go about your business, Citizens, as normal. We are perfectly safe, here in the City. Humanity has never been safer.

Propaganda  no propaganda submitted

Doctor Who and Shada (fan novelisation)

Synopsis

The Doctor and Romana visit Professor Chronotis, a retired Time Lord living at Cambridge University. The Professor wants to return an ancient and very powerful book to Gallifrey - but the book has gone missing.

Skagra, an evil scientist, steals the book and the Professor's mind - and also takes Romana and the TARDIS.

In order to stop Skagra, the Doctor must discover the secrets of a notorious Time Lord criminal, and a long forgotten prison called Shada...

Propaganda

The first ever adaption of Shada and one of the only fan novelisations (anonymous)

Harvest of Time

Synopsis

After billions of years of imprisonment, the vicious Sild have broken out of confinement. From a ruined world at the end of time, they make preparations to conquer the past, with the ultimate goal of rewriting history. But to achieve their aims they will need to enslave an intellect greater than their own...

On Earth, UNIT is called in to investigate a mysterious incident on a North Sea drilling platform. The Doctor believes something is afoot, and no sooner has the investigation begun when something even stranger takes hold: The Brigadier is starting to forget about UNIT's highest-profile prisoner. And he is not alone in his amnesia.

As the Sild invasion begins, the Doctor faces a terrible dilemma. To save the universe, he must save his arch-nemesis... The Master.

Propaganda

An amazing 3rd Doctor story that feels very much like the typical Delgado!Master stories of the time! Featuring: UNIT, Original Characters, a poster with the Master’s face on it stating to remeber him, and more! (anonymous)