#went to try to find a specific one and it took me FIFTEEN MINUTES of scrolling. how did this happen

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

at this point i have made sooooo many posts about Lucanis between meta and jokes and ramblings that even my own specific tag for them is no longer easily navigable and i'm considering just making a masterpost for my own reference lmao

[inthehexcore]

pages and books

summary: The quiet Enforcer stops by your quiet library. Multiple times.

content: STEB! librarian!reader gets sick, fluff, can't think of much else! probably ooc

wordcount: 2.397

a/n: i love Steb so much... inbox/requests open!

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The sun in Piltover shone as bright as it always did. It lit up the entire library, and you could not help but hum as you pushed the cart of books around. The warmth of the rays only made the building look more beautiful, something which you were not aware was even possible.

The high ceilings with curved windows and hand-painted images, detailed golden pillars, royal blue seats with dark wooden tables. Not all of your fellow students liked the library. To be fair, there were tons of other stunning places all around Piltover, but yours was here.

You spent so much time surrounded by the books that you just ended up taking a side job as the assistant. It meant pouring coffee and putting back books, but it also meant reading when everything was cleaned and drinking the sweet tea that was technically only meant for the professors.

With the library not being the most popular spot, it also allowed you to brush up on skills and even pick up new things to learn. The history of Piltover, Professor Heimerdinger's autobiography, varieties of plants, but most recently, you found a book about sign language. It was interesting for sure. Every time you put the loaned books back in their spot, another one got added to the stack of other books that you still wanted to read during your breaks.

So, as per usual, you sat at the window near the counter. Even with it being your break, you still liked to be close to your workspace, just in case someone came in.

A steaming cup of tea stood beside your book as you flipped through the pages, admiring the photographs of Piltover's 'ten most beautiful buildings', occasionally stirring the cup of tea and taking a sip out of it. Stuck in your own world, though your gaze moved to outside the window ever so often. From here, you could see the main square - the market, Enforcers, students.

The watch around your wrist kept ticking away, reminding you that your break had already stopped a few minutes ago. A neat bookmark got placed between the pages of the book as you turned around, nearly dropping the hot beverage that you were holding.

Right in front of you stood a tall Enforcer. His face was blank and his hands were clasped behind his back. You were nearly jealous of his posture - you must have looked idiotic with how hunched over you were sitting.

"Oh, Officer! I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long."

The man slowly shook his head, his eyes set on you as you moved back to the counter, placing the book that you were reading back on its space. He took a step closer, his arms still behind him.

"What can I help you with today?"

He held out his hand, a small note hidden in the grip of his glove. A short list with some of the most specific books you had seen in a while. Even though you did not dare to ask him why he needed all of these, you could not help but try to theorize.

Maybe he was working on a weapon, or what if he went off into the wilderness and build a house out of nothing but sticks and mud?

"Ha, this might take me a moment to find. Would you like some tea, Officer?"

Quietly, he stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. He just had his break - after bringing these books to Commander Kiramman, his day was basically over. Patrol for an hour, and then it was time for him to relax. Finally away from all the loud sounds of the city. But being in the empty library was not unwelcome, either.

"I will be back in a sec!"

It was much longer than a sec.

With every minute, you got more and more anxious. How could you keep an Enforcer waiting for this long? There was no one in the entire library! Your footsteps sounded heavy and you felt like every breath you took was one too loud. But, after fifteen minutes and lots of going up and down ladders, you finally found all the books on his list.

"And... Phew! This should be all," you wiped your hands, "Do you need help bringing it to... your office?"

Silently, the Enforcer shook his head again, reaching for the stack of thick books as he held them in his hands.

"Oh! What name can I put these on? That way I can remember, for next week!"

Next week? Oh, to return the books.

The man looked around him for a moment before his eyes fell on the small notebook next to you. He glanced at it as he looked back at you. You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment before going 'aha!', reaching for your notebook as you opened it on a blank page, handing him your pen. If you could have, you would have chuckled. A strong officer writing in your sparkly notebook with a neon-coloured gel pen.

He put the pen back down, nodding before taking one step back.

"Thank you so much. Till next time, Officer Steb."

Even with the interaction being a little under a week ago, you still had not moved on from it. His intense, blue gaze, his straight and confident posture. His handwriting even - it was immortalized in your notebook.

You found yourself looking for him through the windows, and while walking through the square, you would keep an eye out for his tall figure. 'He still has two days to return the books,' you thought to yourself. Most people even turned their books in late. But he was an Enforcer, so you highly doubted that he would.

Humming again as you placed the books back on the shelves, your cart now empty. Except for a few students in the far corner of the library, you were all on your own. You didn't mind - it left you with some time to finish up the essay that was due for tomorrow. So, with a sigh, you pushed the cart back to the counter.

There, in front of the small spot where you always sat, stood Officer Steb. It seemed to immediately lift your spririts as the cart suddenly felt much lighter.

"Officer Steb!"

His ears slightly moved back a little, not expecting your voice to suddenly pop up, but as he saw you, he gave you a nod.

"And, how did you like the books?"

He only nodded in return, placing the stack of books down on the counter. All of them had been put in alphabetical order - he must be an organized man. You pulled up his page, making sure that you had all the correct books as you nodded, scribbling down all the extra information before handing him the handwritten receipt.

"Could I do anything else for you, Officer?"

Steb was quiet - he was quiet often times. Out of his pocket, he fished another note with a few more books on it. The Undercity's History, a cookbook, 'Haircutting for Dummies!', and some more titles. You glanced up at him, trying hard not to let chuckles escape from you.

"Are these… All for you?"

You spot the tiniest shape of a smile as he shook his head. He tapped his Enforcer badge as you nodded, an 'oooh' as you looked back at the list.

"Be right back!"

This time, you found the books much faster. Not that Steb minded if you took a while - he enjoyed the library. He liked the books, the smells, the sun - you. Maddie offered to bring all the loaned books back to the library, but by the time she could even think about standing up, Steb was already out the door. The rest of the Enforcers shrugged it off as the man just wanting to spend some quiet time on their own. It was what he did.

But you.

How… Happy you always were. Cheery, but not overwhelmingly so. A bright flash of the sun through dark clouds. A stark contrast to his stoic demeanour, fire and water.

"There we go," you hummed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you pushed the cart back to the desk, "Can I put it under Officer Steb again?"

Hearing his name coming from you felt new, refreshing. He nodded, reaching over for the stack.

"Well, if you use the haircut book, let me know."

Steb snorted with a smile before clearing his throat, quickly standing back up straight before nodding. He was looking forward to next week.

For months, he came every single Tuesday, always around the same time. It must be during his break, or during his patrol. Only once had someone else shown up, Officer Nolan, as she introduced herself. She was nice and very talkative, so the two of you spent quite some time at the desk, chatting away. The week after that, Steb had written something extra on a note that he had stuck in a book.

'Sorry for Officer Nolan'

It had made you laugh.

Every week, the list of books would be different from the one before. Not only that, but the topics of said books could not be further apart. It was after a month of wondering that Steb answered the burning question that you had in mind. 'They are for the entire squad. They make a list, I get the books.' It made sense. So now, every week, you would try to guess which of the Enforcers would be reading which book. A fun little game, and thankfully Officer Steb would humour you, nodding or shaking his head depending on if your guess was right.

Over time, it felt like a friendship. More details of Steb came to the surface, and he would ask about your day. Favorite foods, hobbies, things you both hated. Officer Steb did not speak much, but he was comforting company. If bringing the book was his last task of the day, then he would stay at the library for a moment, starting the book that was meant for him. The last few times, you also placed a cup of tea next to him when he wasn't looking. It was like a challenge to see if he noticed you sneaking up on him - he did, but he would have never told you.

Today had been a bad day.

You slipped on your way to the library, there was a group of loud kids in the library, your head was pounding and you were not sure if you were feeling hot or cold. With a pack of tissues in your hand, you sniffed, squeezing your eyes shut.

The large windows and bright sun felt like a curse as you wished for nothing more than it to be dark outside. At least the group of rowdy teenagers had finally left.

When you heard the door open again, you nearly groaned in annoyance. If they returned, then you would have had no other choice but to hide in the back, away from the noise.

But after the creaking of the door, there was no other noise. You raised an eyebrow before lifting your head out of your hands, being met with no one other than Officer Steb.

"Oh, Officer Steb," you sniffed, your voice hoarse and odd-sounding due to your blocked nose, "I nearly forgot the date."

While usually dressed in his Enforcer uniform, he now wore something much more casual. You had never seen him outside of the dark blue and gold - the black and dark green suited him. Without his beret or helmet on, you could also see his hair. You wondered if he used the 'Haircutting for Dummies' book for it all those months ago. According to Steb, the book was not for him. His eyebrows creased as he scanned you, squinting his eyes.

"Yeah, not the best day," you shrugged, wiping your hand on your shirt, "But there is no one else to run the library, so… Me it is."

He quietly stared at you for another moment before gesturing to your notepad again. The sparkly cover held many pages of his handwriting - so many that it might as well have been his. You silently hand it over, your head aching with every move you make.

'Stay here, be right back'.

Steb turned on his heels, walking right down the hall and out the door. You only raised an eyebrow before looking over the stack of books and writing down all the information you needed. After what felt like an eternity, you finally sat back down in your chair, your fingers rubbing at your temples.

The Enforcer came back not long after, a small bag in his left hand. He placed it on the counter - as quietly as he could - which made you look back up.

"You're free."

Steb's voice was so different from what you imagined.

"I-" you frowned, "Excuse me, Officer Steb? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Just Steb is fine," he looked away, "Commander Kiramman has contacted the owner of the library, your boss, and you have permission to leave now."

How had he done that?

Your bag was still packed, resting against the side of the counter, almost jumping in excitement that you got to go home.

"You are sick, yes?"

"I mean… Sadly so, I'm guessing."

He nodded, slowly reaching out to you before slightly raising an eyebrow. You breathed in, nodding as his hand made contact with your forehead. Cold, so cold. Your eyes almost closed at the sensation, the feeling of his cool fingers nice against your burning face.

Sadly, the moment ended all too soon as Steb reached into the small bag, pulling out an assortment of different painkillers and medicine.

"Once a day," he held up one of the packets, "Maximum of three a day, six hours inbetween."

He had gone out to get you medicine? You nearly wanted to start crying, your tired eyes and heavy limbs glad that they would almost be able to rest. Not to mention the bursting and pounding of your heart. Despite feeling horrible, a smile still formed on your face.

"I… Steb, thank you. I can't believe this."

He took your bag off the ground, waiting for you to lock everything up before exiting the library, side by side.

"Thank you again," you said, though it came out not nearly as loud as you thought it would have.

"Have to take care of my favourite librarian," his comment nearly made you fall over, though he would not have let that happen, "I bring you home, you take the medicine, and I see you next week?"

[peachiejeongin]

Back to Blue | Han Jisung

Synopsis: Jisung messages you out of the blue one day, and before you know it, you are at the Stray Kids dorm dying his hair back to blue.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, crack

Warnings: None! (Unless shirtless Jisung counts)

WC: 1.6k

Notice: My loves, this was an entirely unprompted fanfiction. I have a couple requests scheduled and I'm working on a longer fiction, so I was not going to write anything at all today. But after reading a few stories about Hyunjin's buzzcut and Felix's dark hair, I realized I had not seen many stories about the return of Bluesung on my feed; therefore, I decided to write my own!...and I may or may not have sped-wrote it in about an hour or two. Whoops! Nevertheless, enjoy the story, my darlings! (I am also attempting a new format style, so enjoy that as well!).

Divider By: @strangergraphics-archive

It started with a random text on a Saturday afternoon.

Hannie<3: Hello, my beautiful, gorgeous, amazing specimen of a partner who I love more than anything else ever! You: What do you want, Ji? Hannie<3: Sooooo, our hairstylist may or not be out sick with the flu, and your amazing boyfriend who is ALWAYS so nice to you may or may not be wanting to bring back an old hair color so....wanna come help me dye my hair blue? :D

You blinked at your phone, rereading the message over and over again as if you were trying to find a joke in the wording that you had missed; he could not be serious, could he?

You: Why not just go to an ACTUAL salon? Hannie<3: And have them mess it up? Absolutely not! You're the only one I trust with this so can you pleeeeease come do it for me?? You: Hannie, I'm going to hold your hand when I say this. You: I have never dyed anyone's hair before. Hannie<3: Boxes have instructions for a reason!

You narrowed your eyes at your phone briefly, quirking your lips into a line; you pondered the text for a moment before sighing and typing out a reply.

You: I'll be there in fifteen.

Minutes later, you were at Jisung's dorm, standing in the doorway to his bedroom with a skeptical expression etched onto your face; your boyfriend just grinned at you like an eager puppy.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the urge to play mad scientist with my hair."

"You're acting like I'm about to give you an entirely new identity," you retorted, stepping inside and tossing your keys onto his bed. "Remind me why you want blue specifically? I thought you wanted to stay natural for a while."

Han shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I did, but blue is like my color, y'know? Fans loved it, and, let's be real, I looked amazing!" You rolled your eyes at the final comment but could not help the smile that eased past your lips.

"Fine," you told him, "but if this goes wrong, I am taking zero responsibility."

"Noted," he replied, leading you down the hallway to the bathroom; a box of blue hair dye already sat waiting on the counter.

"Wow," you teased, picking up the box and analyzing the instructions. "You really went all out with the cheap stuff. Y'sure it won't turn your hair green?"

Han laughed at first, but his eyes widened slightly, his playful expression morphing into one of slight fear.

"Wait...it's not going to do that, right?"

"I guess we'll find out."

Han let out a dreadful groan as you opened the box, pulling out the black rubber gloves that came with it; you pulled them on with a moderate snap as Han took off his shirt, throwing it somewhere on the messy bathroom floor. He perched on the edge of the bathtub, wrapping a small towel around his neck as you read the instructions in order to figure out just what you were doing.

After scanning over the steps and figuring out the process of unprofessionally coloring hair, you took out the color and the developer and poured both into the applicator bottle, shaking it harshly in order to quickly mix up the dye. Once the agents were fully combined, you stepped closer to Han, sitting yourself beside him on the rim of the tub.

"Okay, tilt your head back," you instructed, squeezing a tiny amount of hair dye onto your finger tips.

"Wait," Han suddenly said, looking up at you with large, doe-eyes. "What happens if it actually turns my hair green?"

"Hannie, it's just hair," you replied, running your clean hand through his hair lightly. "You'll be fine."

"But my appearance is my livelihood!" He clutched a dramatic hand over his heart, pretending to tear up at the thought. "If my hair is ruined, I'm ruined!"

"Well, you could always shave your head and wait for it to grow back!" you playfully remarked. "Hopefully by then, your stylist will feel better!"

"A shaved head?!" Han gasped dramatically, his words loud and bewildered. "Do I look like my name is Hyunjin? We can't have two kiwis in the group!" You chuckled at his melodramatics before halting suddenly, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

"Wait, Hyunjin shaved his head?"

"Oh, nevermind that!" Han playfully shook his head as he spoke. "Can you just get started before I go crazy?"

"You're already crazy, Hannie, but okay."

You slowly raked the blue dye through Han's hair, being as gentle as possible just in case you caught any missed tangles or knots. You went by sections, going by the layers of Han's hair. As you worked, Han squirmed as if he were a child.

"Ow!" he yelped unseriously. "That was a tangle!"

"Han, my fingers literally ran through a couple of strands," you retaliated, trying not to laugh. "How could I have hit a tangle?"

"I don't know, but that's what it felt like," he muttered, pouting and wincing for effect.

"You're such a baby," you teased, brushing through his hair more softly. "I know you don't act like this with the stylists, so just behave for me, would you?"

"Fine, fine," he conceded with a sigh. "In my defense, though, it absolutely kills me to sit still for an hour with them, too."

"Keep yourself distracted then," you suggested as you began to work on the second section of hair. "Like, just talk to me about whatever will make time pass by for you."

Upon your statement, you and Han began to discuss everything and nothing, from his plans for the week, to a new song he was working on, and finally the latest group chat antics with the other members. You had to pause your efforts multiple times during conversation, scolding Han for turning his head away from you while he was speaking. By the time you had finished applying the dye, you were both laughing so hard that your sides were aching.

"Okay," you sighed out victoriously, peeling off your gloves and throwing them away along with the applicator bottle. "Now we wait."

"For how long?"

"Thirty minutes," you answered after re-checking the box's directions. As you pulled out your phone to set a timer, Han let out a frustrated groan, slumping dramatically off of the bathtub's edge and onto the bathroom floor.

"I am going to die of boredom."

"You could always help me clean up," you suggested, glancing pointedly at the blue streaks adorning the whie porcelain of the bathtub, as well as some spots that had made their way onto the floor.

"Absolutely not." Han sat up quickly, shaking his head. "That's your mess."

"Excuse me?" you shot back while chuckling. "Are you not the one who squirmed, flinced, and turned your head so aggressively that you got hair dye everywhere?" Before Han could answer, you pulled out a washrag from one of the bathroom drawers, turning on the faucet to wet it slightly and tossing it to Han.

"Now, get it before it dries up!" you commanded, getting out a second rag for yourself. "I don't want to explain to your managers why the dorm's bathroom looks like a Smurk emporium."

To your gratitude, and more so Han's, cleaning up the smeared hair dye made the time pass by swiftly; within what felt like moments, the alarm on your phone had gone off.

"Thank goodness!" Han yelled, standing up from where he had been kneeled on the floor, working on a particularly tough stain. "Moment of truth!" Han made his way to the shower, sliding open the door before glancing back at you.

"Privacy, please!" he cheekily commanded, waiving you away sassily.

"Yeah, whatever. Just don't forget to use this, ya goof." You handed him the small packet of hair color conditioner before striding out of the bathroom.

"Text me when you're done."

You were sitting on Han's bed, scrolling through social media for what felt like an eternity; you were never able to understand how one person could take such a lengthy shower. You got the urge to go knock on the bathroom door and ask what was taking so long, but before you could, your phone buzzed.

Hannie<3: All done! Come look! :D

You smiled at the text, sluggishly standing up and making your way to the bathroom. You opened the door to find a beaming Han, his squirrely smile lighting up the entire bathroom as he ran his hands through his hair whilst looking in the mirror; it was blow-dried, which was probably why he took longer than expected, but most importantly, it was vibrant, shiny, and blue.

"Ladies and...well, just lady!" Han exclaimed as he turned to you, a prominent, joyous sparkle present in his eyes. "I present to you: the return of Bluesung!"

"No kidding!" you responded, ruffling his hair lightly and fluffing it up slightly. "I think I nailed it!"

"You did!" he agreed, grinning from ear to ear. "I am dangerously attractive now. Well, I've always been attractive, but even more so now, baby!"

"Alright, alright." You rolled your eyes, lightly pushing at his shoulder. "Calm down, Blueberry."

"Careful," he warned, the gleeful glint in his gaze turning into a mischevious one. "Call me that again, and I'm dying your hair."

"Fine by me," you retorted while smirking. "I've been wanting to go purple for a while, Blueberry."

"Oh, you little!" Han picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and playfully bickering with you as he spun you around the bathroom; however, even through the teasing and the unserious arguing, one thought crossed your mind:

Blue really did suit him.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[ohmybueckers]

Never Strangers: Chapter One

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: drinking, author who is terrible about being consistent with tenses, incredibly down bad main characters (be gentle with Paige and Maya guys, the first love WLW situationship breakup is ROUGH)

Authors note: Not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter, but I feel like it gives a decent amount of context. Prepare for more flashbacks next chapter. Also this is highkey not proofread so … approach with caution there.

August 26, 2023

The drive from Stamford to Storrs is about two hours, traffic permitting. My mom waits approximately 20 minutes before she begins the inevitable interrogation session into the state of my life. More specifically, the train wreck it has become.

“You know, I really think you should consider rejoining mock trial. You loved it for so long, and look how many friends you made.” She rambles, her eyes never leaving I-95. “You probably would have never met Brooke if you hadn’t joined mock trial.”

Brooke and I met as co-counselors at a mock trial summer intensive for high schoolers at Yale the summer after my freshman year of college. Turns out trying to keep track of a bunch of hormonal fifteen year olds is a bonding experience like no other. She quickly became my formerly long-distance best friend and very soon-to-be roommate. 

“I told you, I’ll check it out when I get there.” I say, half telling the truth and half just trying to get her to change the subject. Clearly, my attempt was failing.

“I just want to make sure you’re making the most of college. I know University of Minnesota was not your thing, but I want you to find your why when it comes to Connecticut.”

I sighed. One of the perks of having a therapist as a mother is that you always have someone to listen to your petty problems without judgement. The downside is that she’s always trying to dig deeper, even when I really do not want to. “My why is being close to you. Plus, UConn is close enough to New York.”

“And close to Paige.” This remark nearly makes me choke.

“Mom!”

“Sorry, sorry!” She quickly apologizes, though knowing her she knew damn well what kind of reaction she would receive. I never told her full details of what actually went down between us - maybe because I thought it would be too embarrassing, or maybe because I knew that if she ended up in my mom’s bad graces, there was no coming back from that. All she knew is that at one point we were friends, then we were more than friends, and then things got messed up and we don’t talk anymore. She also knows that I really don’t like talking about it with her. “Does she know you’re coming?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, I didn’t tell her.” 

The last text I had sent Paige was shortly after the basketball player announced she tore her ACL. Despite the tension between us, it felt wrong to say nothing in these circumstances. Basketball was Paige’s world, and I couldn’t even fathom the grief she must have felt. I received a “thank you maya, i hope you’re doing well. miss u” in return. It took everything in me not to call the blonde after reading the last five letters. 

Thankfully, my moms line of questioning ends there, and she returns to the driving playlist we made together the night before, an eclectic mix of 80’s hits with the occasional R&B ballad. Occasionally I hear her sing along, letting the crack of fresh air from the car window flow through her almost-black hair. Some people say I’m basically her twin: same dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, and short stature. I just wish I got a fraction of her curves.

The rest of the car ride, I alternate between reading the newest Emily Henry book and messaging Brooke, who has been sending me updates on our new apartment. She moved into a couple of days ago while my mom and I were still on our girls trip to New York City, and her texts ranged from “ill give you the room with the ensuite bathroom if i can have the bigger room” (deal) to “our neighbors are FINE” (knowing her taste in men, doubtful). 

After what feels like too long in the car (maybe I never actually got over my tendency to get carsick), we pull into a lot. there it is: My new apartment, a small building surrounded by others similar to it and tall trees, still wrapped in vibrant green hues untouched by the incoming fall. I hear a yell from across the lot as I step out, but I’m so overwhelmed by the new sensations in Storrs that it takes my brain a moment to process that the tall figure running across the lot with a truly impressive speed was my best friend.

Brooke barrels towards me, wrapping me in a hug that nearly tips me over. “About time you got here!” She grabs my shoulders, her white acrylics a comfortably familiar sensation on my skin, before turning to my mom with her award-winning smile. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’m Brooke. Wow, you could have convinced me you two were sisters. You’re gonna have to give me your skincare routine before you leave.” She gestures to my mom, who giggles. I can tell that her day has been made.

I will never fail to tell Brooke Jones that she is perhaps the most charismatic person I have ever met. When I’m in Mock Trial, I will fight to make my voice heard. Outside of the courtroom, however, I tend to lean on the more reserved side. On the first day of counselor training, it was as if she could sniff out how nervous I was and made it her personal mission to befriend me. And one thing about Brooke: she will make you talk. Somehow I don’t mind it as much when I’m with her. 

So it’s a great sight when Brooke and my mom trail ahead of me, hands filled with various decor items and chatting (I think I hear one of them mention bringing out photos of me in seventh grade, an action I know I will have to intercept later for my own sanity).  

About three hours later, with the hard work of the three of us supplemented by SZA’s discography, my space is set up just enough to where I can sleep comfortably for the next few nights. Brooke pulls my mom in first, after getting her phone number “for emergencies”. Next, it’s my turn. 

“Alright, you know what I’m about to say.”

“We’re not going to throw a party, I know you’re worried about the security deposit.” Behind my mom’s shoulder, I could see Brooke’s brows furrow as she mouthed don’t promise that. 

“No, I meant have fun. Take risks. Find your why,” She grabs my shoulders at the last word for emphasis, and it’s hard to believe that this is my real life and not some after school motivational special. 

We embrace one last time. Despite her cheesy moments, I am reminded just how much I’m going to miss seeing my mom every day. After three years of being in closer proximity to my dad, it was nice to spend the summer in Stamford, my days filled with NYT crossword games by the water and day trips into New York City. This summer solidified that it didn’t even need to be Boston - I was just happier on the east coast. 

“I like your mom, she’s sweet.” I hear Brooke say as we watch the white Toyota leave the parking lot from our third floor window. Our view is perfect, and I picture what it will be like to watch the leaves change from it as the semester goes on. It makes the last few hours of lugging furniture and suitcases up flights of stairs worth it.

“I love her when she’s not trying to psychoanalyze every decision I make,” I chuckle, moving to continue unpacking some miscellaneous items in the kitchen.

Brooke follows me. “Is that what that whole ‘find your why’ thing was about?” 

“Got a whole interrogation in the car. Everyone in my family thinks I’m having some sort of crisis,” I place a stack of plates (a gift from my mom’s boyfriend) in a cabinet. “She even suggested I came here for Paige.”

Brooke stands there, her lips falling into a flat line. She is taking far too long to respond for my preference. My jaw falls, eyes widening. “Stop.”

Brooke lifts her hands in surrender. “Ok, I would be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind.”

My head falls into my hand, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose as my eyes shut. “I swear to god, why does everyone think I chose to go to UConn because of Paige?”

“Maybe because other people definitely have.” Ok, Brooke does have a point. While I have done everything in my power to not think about the blonde, everyone else has been increasingly trying to get in her orbit. I’ve even seen a handful of edits made for her in the past few months as people anticipate her first season back from her injury.

I shake my head. “I’m not that dumb. I’m here for-“

“In-state tuition and to be closer to me and your mom, I know.” Brooke finishes, coming around to wrap one arm around me. It’s her way to both apologize and check in on me. While I appreciate the gesture, a small part of me feels guilty - like I have gotten use to people extending pity to me for one reason or another: my parent’s divorce, the move to Minnesota, Paige, transferring schools. It gets to a point where I just want to win at something.

I lean into her embrace, smelling the citrus in her hair product. “I know I was down bad for a while, but I promise I’m fine.”

I feel Brooke nod above me. “Good, because she’s kinda everywhere on campus. Even if you don’t run into her, people don’t shut up about her.” This was to be expected, a fact I have been preparing myself for months for. I decided it’s just something I’m going to have to get used to, like many things in life.

“Well, why don’t we shut up about Paige and order some food. I’m starving,” I exclaim, moving towards my phone to pull up Doordash. Perhaps my first win can be proving to people that I can thrive at UConn and absolutely not fixate on Paige Bueckers. 

“Okay, okay. You good if we invite my cousin Adria to come over too? She’s chill I swear.” I remember Brooke telling me about Adria last summer, how she was entering her freshman year at `UConn at the time. I nod in agreement, excited to host my first get together in my new space. 

////

Just an hour and a half later, the three of us are sat in the sparsely furnished living room, eating pad thai surrounded by a large collection of boxes. Upon one look at Adria when she stepped through our front door, I could tell her and Brooke were related: both had the same long legs, clear deep complexion and white smiles that looked like they belonged on billboards. Where they differed was in dress: while Brooke wore the same blue sweat set that she helped me unpack in, Adria was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a boho white tank top, a cascade of black and blonde braids down her back and an “A” necklace around her neck. 

Adria is only a sophomore, and yet from the first hour I have known her she appears far more put together than I was at this time last year. It’s evident in the way she talks about her pre-professional sorority, or in the way she talks about getting ahead of internship applications for the next summer. It would almost be irritating if she wasn’t also so charming.

“So what brought you to UConn?” Adria asks me from the other end of the couch. 

“Well, I tried U of M. My dad and his new girlfri… new wife,” The correction felt bitter on my tongue in a way that made me feel guilty. “They live out there, so I got in-state. It just wasn’t for me. I decided to transfer here just in case I still want to go to law school, since my mom lives in-state and I don’t want to go further in debt than I need to.”

“What do you mean if you still want to go to law school?” Brooke questions, her face incredulous. “Wasn’t that your whole plan since you were in, like, fourth grade?”

I love Brooke with everything in me, on the deepest platonic soulmate level there is. I tell her everything - except for the fact that I don’t know if I still want to practice law outside of college. I guess if I said it out loud to her, the girl who I once dreamed of going to law school with, practicing in the same city with before opening a shared practice, it would become more real: that I was seemingly blowing up all I’ve known with no plan B. She already thinks me dropping mock trial is some sign of an incoming mental breakdown.

“I’m just… exploring all of my options.” I muster, though from the furrow in Adria’s brow it must not be as believable as I would have hoped. Judging by the way Brooke’s shoulders appeared to relax, however, it at least worked on her. Eager to switch the attention off of myself, I turn to the younger girl once more. “Adria, what are you studying?”

“I’m kinesiology, trying to become a physical therapist. Maybe do some athletic training?”

Brooke chokes back a laugh, waving her hand. “She’s just saying that because she’s fucking someone on the basketball team.”

If there’s one similarity between Adria and I, it’s the way both of our jaws drop at Brooke’s candor. Her cousin seems particularly taken off guard, throwing her hands up with a, “Jesus Christ, Brooke!”

I can’t help but laugh at the dynamic. “Who is he?”

“She’s on the women’s team.” The word she rings in my ears as my cheeks get hot with embarrassment. I’m literally a lesbian, I thought she was above assuming sexuality based on looks after having it done to me throughout the summer by daddy’s money frat guys in Stamford.  Adria scratched the back of her neck, her cheeks flushing. “Um, KK Arnold?” 

I’ve only seen the name in passing, during a late night scan of the women’s basketball roster that I would never admit to. KK was the new recruit from Wisconsin to my memory … or was it Indiana? 

“She got a job with athletics over the summer. Somehow her and KK crossed paths and they’ve been hooking up since.” Brooke took a bite of her noodles between sentences, filling in the gaps that Adria left. 

“We haven’t even had sex, chill.” Adria held a hand up to her sister, but the shy look never left her face. “KK’s nice though. I think I could really like her, which totally sucks because basketball players aren’t exactly the relationship type.”

“Looks like you both have the same type.” Brooke says through another bite.

Silence falls on the room, followed by a confused “What?” from Adria. 

A part of me wants to be frustrated with Brooke for bringing it up - the last thing I want is to be known at UConn as just a girl who got with the basketball star. However, Adria seems like a kind person, and she did just confide in me about KK. Part of me feels like I owe her an explanation in some sick way. With a sigh, I give her the context. “Brooke is giving me shit because a long time ago, in high school, I kinda had a thing with Paige Bueckers.”

The younger girl looks at me for a beat as if she can’t believe the words that just came out of my mouth. Once she gets a minute to reboot, she explodes “Like Paige Bueckers Paige Bueckers?Holy shit!”

“Don’t say anything, it was a really, really long time ago,” I plea, recognizing that she was acquainted to one of her teammates. Oh god, the last thing I need is KK telling Paige that her … whatever Adria was … told her that her sister’s friend is still hung up on her or something.

“I won’t, I promise.” Adria holds both hands up, a move that must be genetic. “You’re not gonna hit her up now that you’re on her campus?”

“Yeah, I’ll pass,” I say, taking a bite of my own food. I try to ignore the way my stomach flips at how Adria claimed the entirety of University of Connecticut as belonging to Paige somehow. As if there was no room for me. “She may be great at basketball, but that girl does not do emotions.”

“Well, I’m not exactly surprised.” Adria shrugs. My head snaps back up, and Brooke shoots her cousin a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

Adria continues, “I mean, its not a secret Paige kinda has a reputation here.”

So much for not fixating on Paige Bueckers. My mind races as I ask, “What kind of reputation?” although based on her tone and the context, I can make my own educated guesses. 

“She just gets with a lot of girls on campus.” Adria speaks slowly, her expression somehow guilty. “My freshman year roommates friend got with her. Said she slept with her one night and never talked to her again.”

It’s not like I had no clue that Paige had no issue moving on from me once she got to Storrs. For one, she didn’t seem to have an issue doing such a thing when we were together in the first place. She had also heard rumors through the grapevine at school during her senior year, with people saying that they knew someone whose sister was friends with someone who got with Paige or some outlandish connection like that. Hearing confirmation from someone in Storrs somehow made it more confirmed in my mind. That all Paige wants is to kiss as many girls as possible, touch as many girls as possible, fuck as many girls as possible. Maybe that’s why she started acting so cold and things fell apart. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t enough for her, I can’t help my mind from thinking bitterly. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” I force myself to breeze past the conversation, knowing that I cannot dwell on the past again. After a year or two of trying to figure out where everything went wrong, I have long since realized that there is nothing else to decode. I preferred to think of Paige as a painful memory that I’ve locked far, far away - it was just easier that way. “Who wants to watch a show?”

“You good, Maya?” Brooke asks, a small smile on her face. I know she feels guilty for bringing it up in the first place. But really, I have no reason to be mad: I was the one who ended things, and years ago at that. Being hung up over Paige Bueckers was ridiculous at this point.

“Yeah.” I answer, my voice more sharp than I intended. Fuck. Shaking my head as if to shake off any sort of doubts in their mind, I smile as I stand and walk towards the kitchen. “Believe me when I say I do not care what that girl does. She can do what she wants, and so can I. And what I want right now is to drink some prosecco and watch the Bachelorette.”

The sight of me pulling out the bottle of wine seems to strip Brooke of her doubts, because she agrees with a “Hell yeah, lets do it.”

Thankfully, once the TV is on we all settle into a groove of gossiping about strangers on our TV, not the very real people in our lives. Brooke in particular is enthralled, even though I had to beg her for weeks last summer to give the show a try. Even Adria chimes in as the two contestants cry over these men with a yell of “stand the fuck up!” I am quickly reminded in this moment that these two girls are, in fact, related. At one point in the night, Adria whips out her phone and snaps a photo of Brooke and I, grinning under a pile of throw blankets with our wine glasses in hand, an act I fail to question. After all, she had been checking her phone sporadically throughout the night.

Soon enough, we catch up on the past two episodes, our heads buzzing with the wine we consumed and our eyes struggling to stay awake as we say our goodbyes for the night. Adria pulls me into a hug, my head surrounded by the scent of her vanilla perfume as she whispers, “I’m so sorry about saying that stuff about Paige. You should know you… you absolutely did not deserve that shit, whatever she did. For the record, I think you’re awesome and that its completely her loss.”

I smile, happy to hear her words even if this is just a wine happy trail of thought. “It’s okay, Adria, I promise. It was so good to finally meet you.”

Brooke walks her out, and I can barely make it through brushing my teeth and washing my face before collapsing on my bed. The mattress is not the best quality and Amazon still says my mattress topper won’t be here for a few days, but I drift off easily, my thoughts filled with nothing except gratitude for my first night in Storrs and eager for my new start.

It’s safe to say this feeling does not extend in the morning, when I am awoken by the sun blazing through my window. My mouth is dry as I reach for my phone, eager to check the time and groaning when I see it is only 7AM. My groan is not audible for long, though, as I am quickly silenced by my most recent notification. One that has been awaiting me since 12:37AM.

Paige (DO NOT CALL): You go to UConn now???

August 26, 2023

“Go, go, go… Let’s fucking go Dorka!” I yell, watching as my old teammate scored in a game against the Liberty. It’s the Saturday night before the start of classes, and while the streets of Storrs are filled with people on their first night out of the semester, my teammates and I have all been moved into our current apartments for a little over two months. When your summer breaks are filled with workouts on campus mixed with brief vacations or visits home, that first night out doesn’t exactly carry the same novelty.

Which is why some of us were sat in Nika and Azzi’s living room, game on the TV as the two hosts prepare whatever alcoholic beverage they are subjecting us to from the kitchen separated by a counter. Three of our freshmen sit in the room with us: Ashlynn is on the floor, Ice is right above her on the couch with Aaliyah and Aubrey, and KK is next to me, typing hurriedly on her phone. Being one of the oldest players this year, I feel it’s especially important for me to get to know them - not just how they play, but who they actually are off the court.

“If UConn gets me playing like that,” Ice gestures to the TV, “I’ll know I made the right decision.”

“No turning back now.” Aubrey clapped her on the back, an over exaggerated grin on her face, which Ice responded to by shoving her off playfully. Ashlynn giggles, but doesn’t respond beyond that. It’s not abnormal for her to be quiet - what is abnormal is how silent KK is, her phone apparently more interesting than any of us. Aubrey seems to notice too, because she calls over to her.

“Hey KK, what did you think of that play?” No response. The typically extroverted girl has her chin in her hand, still staring at the screen in her other hand. Ice grabs the nearest pillow to her and throws it at the girl, prompting a jolt and a startled “What?” from KK and a “Ay, cut it out!” from Nika across the counter as she stirs a pitcher of God knows what.

“Bruh, KK, you’re not even watching,” I roll my eyes.

“Probably busy texting her girl,” Aaliyah mutters, although clearly she wasn’t trying that hard to be quiet. Hold up … her girl? Now the entire room quickly turns away from the game and to the freshman, who sits up from her slouched position with a death glare.

“I told you that in private.”

“Yo what? KK, you’ve been on campus for, like, five seconds,” Nika pops in the room.

“Clearly that’s all she needs,” Ice shrugs, earning her the same pillow thrown right back at her.

“Y’all suck,” KK slumps back into the couch, crossing her arms with a slight pout. I feel bad, wondering if we’ve been too hard on the teasing.

“Ok c’mon, we’ll stop. Let’s see her.” I gesture her to bring her phone closer to me, an act that she ignores for now.

“She’s not even my girl,” she mumbles.

“Do you want her to be?” Nika asks, eyebrows raised as she steps closer. All of us watch as KK bites her bottom lip, looking down at her sneakers. Hold on… she’s blushing. I may have only known the girl for two months, but i’ve never seen her do that before.

“Holy shit,” Nika exclaims. “KK’s a lover girl.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, just surprising is all,” Aaliyah clarifies, “not many freshmen are too into settling down.”

I notice Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey turn to face me, their stares deadpan. “What are you lookin’ at me for?” I exclaim, pointing at my chest. The heat rising to my face reveals that it’s no secret, even to me.

“What do you think?” Azzi calls from the next room. I sigh.

It’s no secret among the team (or anyone, really) that I had a pretty… entertaining first two years at UConn. Once COVID restrictions began lifting and the team was able to see other people outside of other players, some of the older players made it their mission to show the younger ones what they had been missing, one of those things being who they were missing. Honestly, it’s what I thought I needed at the time: being trapped in my dorm the majority of the time I wasn’t in practice gave me a lot of time to think, and with thinking came regret. More than once I jolted up in my bed in the middle of the night, dreams of dark hair, tanned skin, and that laugh replaying in my mind. It was torture.

Being in a different girl’s bed every weekend silenced it, just momentarily. Some people viewed me as a player who got off on getting any girl she wanted. The guilt of it finally caught up to me at the beginning of my sophomore year, when I thought about all of the girls I hurt, the ones who thought I wanted more than just one or two nights. It just reinforced my worst fear about myself: I was a womanizer who was incapable of caring about anything aside from basketball. 

“Aight aight,” I surrender, shifting my attention back to KK. “We not talking about me right now. Let’s see her.”

KK unlocked her phone, typing a username into the search bar before handing the phone off to me. Nika and Ice were quickly at my side, craning their necks to see a peek. The girl (Adria Taylor, I discover from her bio) is tall, with deep skin and long braids going down her back.

“She’s so pretty!” Nika gushes, and I would have to agree.

Ice, unable to resist the pink circle surrounding Adria’s profile photo, taps on the waiting story before KK can protest. The phone illuminates with a photo of two girls smiling on a couch, captioned “first night back” with a heart and a couple of mentions, presumably her friends handles. I don’t even need to take a look at what is written, however, because my eyes seem to have zeroed in on the girl further from the camera, and my mouth seems to go dry. It can’t be, but it is.

Because the girl in the photo is Maya. 

“Holy fuck.”

I don’t even realize I’ve said it until the three girls turn to look at me, confusion laced in their faces. “What?” Nika asks, concern evident. My heart is racing at a million miles an hour and my hands suddenly feel impossibly sweaty, but I refuse to reveal myself to them. 

I fake a cough, covering it with one hand while the other goes to scratch the back of my neck. “Uh, nothing. Thought I saw something but um,” Suddenly the sight of my lap clad in Nike tech sweats is the most interesting sight in the world. “She’s cute, KK.”

Almost like some sort of angel sent to save me, Azzi appears with a tray full of drinks that are a bright pink color and look entirely too sweet. “Drink it slowly guys, I’m not really sure I measured correctly.” She looks embarrassed at the admission, passing them around the room. Upon my first sip, I wince. Yep, definitely not too sweet. Will I still drink it? Yes. It would be a shame to let a perfectly good drink go to waste, and I now have something to run from tonight.

We continue watching the game, or at least I am. During commercials I spark conversations with anyone who will listen, including asking Ashlynn about some country concert she went to with her parents over the summer. I don’t even really listen to country, but it was nice to see the typically shy girl light up over something. Plus, it gave me an excuse not to think too hard.

Truthfully by the end of the night I was fucking hammered, not bothering to keep track of how many shots I chased down after whatever concoction Nika and Azzi made. Everyone in the room knew it too, to the point where Nika took it upon herself to walk me back to my apartment once the game ended, even though I only lived one floor down and KK and Aubrey were both still at her apartment. 

After I promised her I would chug some water before bed and take the pain reliever she laid out for me in the morning, she agreed to leave and let me go rest. I collapsed in my bed, which suddenly felt like the most comfortable place I had ever been. My brain, on the other hand, was providing anything but comfort running at around 100 miles an hour. Unable to resist, I look up Adria’s profile on my account, clicking the story. Sober me probably would have thought about how it would look if I showed up in her profile views, but drunk me clearly didn’t care enough. 

Sure enough, she’s sat there with a glass of wine in her hands. My heart jumps as I realize that she’s still just as beautiful as she was when I first met her, just more grown up this time. Her face is all defined cheekbones, glistening eyes, and a smile - God, that smile, that never failed to brighten my day if it was directed at me. It’s been a while since I’ve glanced at her profile - though we still follow each other, she barely ever posts and I don’t remember the last time she’s interacted with anything I’ve posted. Viewing her profile is reserved for nights where I’m filled with just enough delusion to convince myself it’s a good idea. Nope, never is. 

The girl next to her (Brooke, I assume from the tag) is leaning into her slightly in a way that makes my stomach flip. She’s not entirely unfamiliar to me - I’ve definitely seen her in a photo dump by Maya last summer. A part of me wonders if that’s the next girl that gets to treat her the way I should have. What if she came to UConn for her, I think. Nope. Can’t do that. Maya hasn’t been mine, not for a while.

The urge to reach out has died down through the years, going from entirely unbearable at times to more of a constant dull itch that I feel as though I can’t ever scratch. Her texting me after my ACL tear last summer provided temporary relief. I mean, it had to say something that she cared enough to show that she cared. A person that hates me wouldn’t do that.

But then, she never responded to my reply. A person that hates me would do that.

So yeah, there is nothing I want more in this world than to text Maya one last time, just to tell her I’m sorry. That I still think about the way I treated her, and how I’ve been too afraid to be with another girl since I’m worried I’ll do the same thing. That I know I don’t deserve her, not even platonically, but feelings aside I miss being around her. I wish we could be friends again, or acquaintances who occasionally text each other on birthdays and holidays, or something. At the very least, I want her to know I’m sorry.

But beyond everything, I want her to be happy. And if me not talking to her makes her happy, as stated the last time I saw her physically where she stated she “just needed time”, I was willing to suffer through that.

Somehow knowing she could be anywhere right now, even just a short walk away, made the suffering unbearable right now, in a way that I hadn’t felt since freshman year. 

Blame it on the alcohol, or the picture, or whatever you like. Doesn’t change the fact that I opened my contacts in search for one particular one. Doesn’t change the five word text I sent that took an embarrassingly long time to think of. And it doesn’t change how my fingers pressed send before any other doubts could enter my brain. Putting my phone on do not disturb, I plug it in and turn off my lights, deciding that chugging water can wait until tomorrow. For now, I need to sleep off everything I’ve seen tonight and the memory of what I just did. 

[annisassintchaska]

Mrs. Wolff To The Rescue

Toto Wolff x Black! Reader

TW: Violence, Cursing

It had been a stressful day as the race wasn’t going well for the Mercedes team as tires were a bit mixed up and strategies seem to be failing rapidly. The two drivers were up in battle with the Ferrari and Redbull drivers as the other teams seem to be very far behind.

During this whole chaos, George’s rear wing had managed to get hit by Lewis after Max’s impatience took over and he slammed into the silver arrow. This sent George spinning off into the gravel on turn sixteen. This caused tension to rise in garage as Toto became angry the Dutch man’s antics.

Thought the next half an hour of the race, everything seems to be fine with Lewis until Max unfairly tried to overtake which ended in both the Redbull cars and the last Mercedes car to spin off the track as Perez unluckily was trying to move past them, yet he wasn’t fast enough as he got hit by Max’s spinning car.

All the reckless driving from Max along with him taking out both drivers of the Mercedes team lead to a furious Toto Wolff as he started yelling, only for him to get out the chair shattering the headphones across the desk upon impact from the slam of his hand. This scared everyone around him in the garage as he started pacing about, yelling out his frustration of the race to anyone in sight.

Bono decided that he had enough and called for backup. “Hello Y/n, your husband is here yelling at everyone after shattering another pair of headphone” he whispered into the phone. “Are you serious? What is wrong with this man?” Y/n groaned in frustration as she would have to leave work to save the team from her yelling giant of a husband for the third time this month. “Alright, I’m on my way. Don’t say anything to him” She grumbled as she got up from her desk. “Ok Mrs. Wolff but please hurry” Bono replied justly before the line went dead.

The whole fifteen minute drive, Y/n could only imagine how scared the workers must have been if it got to the extent of even one of Toto’s friends who works for him called. When she arrived, she parked the car right next to Angela’s who was waiting for her. “Y/n thank God you’re here, it’s like they’re being held hostage in there. He won’t stop ranting and yelling. No one has moved a muscle since Lewis’ crash.” Angela explained in panic. “Thanks for having Bono notify me and for putting up with his grumpy ass” Y/n mumbled in response as she was over her husband’s overreaction at this point.

They entered the paddock and the other teams immediately knew that a scolding was heading the Austrian Team Principal’s way. Y/n nodded fondly at a few people until she finally came to a stop at the Mercedes garage where she could hear her husband’s loud rants about some Dutch fucker who is out to kill everyone on the grid. She walked inside and signaled for them to keep quiet as she grabbed a stool. She carefully climbed the stool and looked at the back of his head before delivering a head pounding slap to it causing everyone to gasp.

Toto was so mad as he turned around to retaliate only to find his upset wife glaring at him. “Hii schatzi. What are you doing here?” He asked sweetly as he put himself together. “You tell me Torger Christian Wolff?! Why is it that while at work I’m getting calls saying that you’re holding your workers captive after scaring them?! Haven’t I specifically warned you about breaking headphones?! HUH TORGER?!” She angrily yelled at him as he guiltily stood quiet. While all this was going on, Bono had packed up his briefcase which was now in his hand as he waited for his wife to speak again.

Y/n got down from the stool and looked at her husband’s team as they waited for further instructions which went in their favour. “Okay, I know y’all have work to do so you get back to work and I’ll take this monster away. Tomorrow you’ll have a brand new boss okay?” She promised as they responded in union. “Thank you Mrs. Wolff” and went off to their respective jobs.

Y/n then turned to her husband still infuriated as she said “Give me your head” she demanded to which Toto bowed his head only for Y/n to start yanking him through the paddock and towards the garage by his ears like a naughty child as she grumbled on like a disappointed mother about his behaviour. “I have told you so many times before, stop smashing headphones, stop yelling at others, don’t scare people but NO, you wanna do what you feel like. Now look where it landed your ass huh?!”

The whole paddock and basically the world witnessing this found it hilariously cute that a giant of a man like Toto could be tamed by such a small person but at the end of the day she isn’t just a person, she’s his WIFE.

[razorblade180-heated]

A Talk

Jaune:Weiss, I would like to discuss something with you.

Weiss:*reading* I’m listening. You find another mission to take?

Jaune:Nah. I…wanted to talk about our sex life.

Weiss:….*slowly puts down book* What?

Jaune:We never really discuss it. We just go with the flow. Like if I’m satisfying you.

Weiss:*blushes* I promise you that I’ve never once faked a noise with you. Wait, am I slacking!?

Jaune:N- well…no. I wouldn’t say that.

Weiss:I don’t like that hesitation! What exactly does that mean.

Jaune:My hips have been getting a little tired.

Weiss:…Ah, I see. So you wanna do it less?

Jaune:Interesting how you’re not bringing out topping as a solution!

Weiss:Look! I…sigh it’s a little embarrassing at times.

Jaune:How is it any more embarrassing than anything else I do to you?

Weiss:*crimson* It’s hard to keep focus….

Jaune:*red* I don’t know how but you made that response kinda cute.

Weiss:Hush!

Jaune:Anyways, I didn’t start this conversation for that specifically. I wanted to know what other ways I could do better or try.

Weiss:What brought this on all of a sudden.

Jaune:To be honest, it’s still a little surreal you and I are together to begin with. *rubs head* I wanna do my best for you.

Weiss:(And he calls me cute…) First, I hope you realize I’m not the kind of person to lose interest just because the sex isn’t as phenomenal as it could be all the time, or even occasionally. There’s a thousand other reasons why I adore you Jaune Arc.

Jaune:That’s nice to hear. Not that I doubted there weren’t any. Still, I’d like to know you better. I won’t judge you.

Weiss:….*looks away* Well, I wouldn’t be upset if you were more aggressive or even strict. I’m not as delicate as I look; you know that.

Jaune:Aggressive how?

Weiss:You know…desire wise. I don’t mind if you’re a little impatient or brutish. *bright red* I could handle that just fine. *looks at him* You better actually give me advice too! It’s frustrating saying all of this.

Jaune:I like it when you’re honest.

Weiss:That’s even more embarrassing and frustrating!

Jaune:But you’re so beautiful when you’re like that. *smiles* It feels good knowing you’re loving it.

Weiss:Well you could also stand to be more confident, hmph! You literally have me in bed. Trust me, the difficult part is over. I can tell you overthink at times; though I guess that’s kept you alive in life.

Jaune:Anything in particular you wanted to…experiment with?

Weiss:Jaune!

Jaune:Like I said, won’t judge. I’m open to ideas.

Weiss could feel her face heating up. She slowly stepped toward Jaune and took his hand. Weiss raised it up for her cheek to rest in. Weiss looked at him with need as she gradually dragged his hand down to her neck to gently squeeze.

Weiss:I’m only going to say this once so you better pay attention.

Jaune:….

Weiss:…..Own me. Make me want to do nearly anything. I don’t need control; not when I’m safe with you.

Jaune:Weiss….

Weiss:I know that might sound a little much but-

Her heart leapt out of her chest as Jaune pulled her in quickly with a rough kiss that silenced her. His right arm kept her waist against his while his left held one of her wrist. A brief separation allowed her to catch her breath and clear head as he went back in for another.

Weiss:T-Timeout!

Jaune:Hmmm?

Weiss:Good start; amazing even. But I have to go to lunch in like fifteen minutes.

Jaune:Yang is always late.

Weiss:It’s with Winter.

Jaune:…That’s a little bit more serious. *rests head on her*

Weiss:Heh, sorry. What happened to this being a talk?

Jaune:I wasn’t expecting you to say something so…honest. How could I not want you right now?

Weiss:*flustered*…Well, we can pick up after I get back? Maybe try and show some of the things we’re interested in.

He was trying not to look pouty, which Weiss found adorable. His arms reluctantly left her body to both of their dismay. Weiss saw her blushing boyfriend lean back in. As she tilted her head up to meet his kiss, a tiny squeak left her lips when Jaune chose to bite the crook of her neck instead, gently kissing the newly made mark afterwards. Weiss instantly covered it, stunned from the surprise move as Jaune started to fix her collar and put her braid over her shoulders to cover it.

Jaune:Can’t say I entirely understand what you mean by “owning” but consider that proof you’re mine.

Weiss:…*inhales* Okay.

Weiss:*hurries out the door*

Jaune: *covers face* (Maybe that was too much?)

xxxxxxx

Weiss:(AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH) *reaches restaurant*

Winter:Weiss! *waves* Trying something new?

Weiss:Hm!?!

Winter:*points* Your hair.

Weiss:Oh, yeah. *inhales*…Yeah

[e-dubbc11]

In Bloom

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really, maybe a swear word or two but extra fluffy bunnies and unicorns

Word Count: 2.7k-ish

Summary: Part 1 of 3 (I think) Reader is in a bit of a romantic slump so she buys herself flowers every Friday until one day she finds out they’re already paid for.

A/N: Based on this ask/idea from my lovely lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass I hope you like it, my love ❤️

This girl is single and haven't had anyone in a while. Miss the intimacy. Just to make herself happy, she buys flowers for herself every Friday. But one day, the flowers have already been paid for. It's the same thing the next Friday. Then one day, there's a little note attached to the flowers....

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“When was the last time you went out on a date?”

Rolling your eyes, those words felt like a hard punch to the stomach coming from your mother.

Your Friday afternoon lunch with her felt like days. It all started with the lunch spot you chose…it wasn’t to her standards but then again nothing was. Nothing seemed to ever be good enough whether it was your job, the clothes you wore, the apartment you lived in, or the sandwich shop you picked for lunch.

It was all beneath her, sub-standard, and you had accepted the fact that nothing you do will ever be good enough for her so you just decided to continue to do whatever made you happy and not worry about what would be pleasing to her.

She tried like hell to mold you into what she wanted you to be, how she wanted you to dress, what she wanted you to do for a living, and even what kind of wedding she had wanted you to have. She didn’t succeed and when you called off your wedding to a man that looked perfect on paper but was a monster behind closed doors, she didn’t try as hard to make you into something that you just weren’t going to be.

She still took not-so subtle jabs though.

“Have a good weekend, hun. Try and get some sleep, you look tired.”

A visit with mom wasn’t complete until she commented on how you looked. It was definitely time to go.

The early autumn wind picked up as you walked from the sandwich place toward the flower shop which was a few blocks away. Your little Friday tradition was just something you had decided to do for yourself every week.

The flowers made your apartment just a little bit brighter and brought a smile to your face every time you looked at them on your dining room table.

You hadn’t really noticed the flower shop before but it presented itself when you needed a little cheering up.

It was after another bad first date, the third one in a row. You were walking home from the bar after yet another Wall Street type asshole had spent the early evening hours droning on and on about himself when the essence of rose attacked your sense of smell. It stopped you dead in your tracks and caused you to shift your eyes from the sidewalk to the door of the flower shop in front of you.

Bouquets of beautiful flowers were in buckets of water outside but so many more caught your eye that were inside so you decided to go in and look around.

“We close in fifteen minutes, Miss. Is there something specific you’re looking for?” The man behind the counter had asked with a warm smile.

You tried to smile back but it only came out as half a smile. “Something to make me feel better after a bad date?” You replied.

His expression tempered and you could tell he really wanted to help.

“Let me see what I can put together for you.” He said.

And he went to work pulling flowers from different buckets and arranging them into the most beautiful bouquet, wrapping them in paper and plastic and securing them with a ribbon. The bouquet was full of carnations, roses, gerbera daisies, and lilies…all in different shades of red and pink. It was almost like he knew they were two of your favorite colors.

Watching him meticulously put those flowers together for you already made you feel better about that night.

“Here you go, my dear. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady.” He said handing you the flowers.

You were absolutely stunned at how gorgeous they were and that was how you met Mr. Campbell, the sweetest little old man with the prettiest flowers in town which kept you coming back weekly for fresh ones.

After the taxing lunch you just had with your mother, it was time to make yourself feel better with your weekly flowers.

“Hi, Mr. Campbell. How are you today!?” You asked.

He shifted his gaze from the bouquet he was working on to greet you, pushing his glasses up that had slid down the bridge of his nose.

“My dear, y/n! Well, I can’t complain…I woke up again so that’s a good thing, plus I knew I’d get to see your smiling face today and that’s ALWAYS a good thing.” He said with excitement.

A wide smile stretched across your lips. “This is my favorite Friday stop, Mr. Campbell!” You said.

The corner of his mouth turned up and he raised his eyebrows. “You sure it’s not the liquor store, y/n?” He asked with a slight chuckle while looking at the bottle of wine in your hand.

You let out a full blown belly laugh. “Ok, well that’s my OTHER favorite Friday stop. You know I like my wine.” You said trying to control your laughter.

“What are you in the mood for today, my dear?” Mr. Campbell asked.

You inhaled sharply and let out a deep exhale. “Well I just had a very long and taxing lunch with my mother so something a little crazy with a lot of colors would be perfect.”

And that’s all he needed to hear. In a matter of minutes he moved from bucket to bucket, picking out every color flower he could get his fragile little hands on and arranged them especially for you into one crazy colored bouquet.

“Awww Mr. Campbell, they’re perfect, as always! Thank you!” You said handing him the money for the flowers and the nip of Jack Daniel’s you bought for him every Friday. “There’s better tasting whiskey out there, you sure you don’t want somethin’ else?”

“No, no…this is what I like y/n.” He said, getting back to the arrangement he was working on when you walked in.

“Ok, well you just let me know if you want something else. I gotta get goin’, I have a hot date with the couch and this wine when I get home.” You said sarcastically.

“It’s Friday night, my dear. You should go OUT on a date!” He said.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh no, don’t you start with me too Mr. Campbell. My mother said the same thing to me a little while ago. I’ll see you next week.” You said as you waved goodbye and reached for the door.

An incredibly handsome man on the other side of the door opened it for you and ushered you through. He was tall, with dark hair, a short beard, eyes as dark as the night sky and a perfect smile.

You smiled back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He said.

You didn’t look back and headed for home.

The flower shop after you left.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Russo. The usual for you today?” Mr. Campbell asked.

Billy had his long overcoat tucked under his arm, watching with a smile as he watched you walk down the street until you were out of sight.

“Yes please, Luther. That would be great.” Billy said softly as he paced around looking at all the different flowers.

Mr. Campbell had caught Billy looking at you when you left the shop.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she.” He stated, raising his eyebrows.

Billy thought he had acted nonchalant while checking you out. “What?” Billy asked. “Oh…yes…she is. Was that her first time in here?”

“She comes in every Friday and buys flowers for herself.” Mr. Campbell said.

A sly smirk stretched across Billy’s face. “Well we can’t have that now can we, Luther.”

Mr. Campbell returned the smirk, looked at Billy over his glasses and asked. “Shall I add another bouquet to your weekly purchase, Billy?”

“Yes please, whatever she wants but do NOT tell her I’m the one that paid for them.” Billy said sternly.

“She is going to ask, so what am I supposed to tell her?” Said Mr. Campbell.

Billy rested his hand on the counter and pondered for a minute.

As he picked up his flowers and started to walk toward the door, Billy turned back to Mr. Campbell and said “Just tell her you are sworn to secrecy and she’ll find out…soon, I promise.”

**********

The following Friday after a long day at work, you clocked out and started your walk to the flower shop. The warm afternoon sun grazed the high points of your face as you strolled down the sidewalk just enjoying the crisp fall air, and in no rush to get where you were going.

This was your favorite time of year. Vendors in the street sold warm apple cider and kettle corn, people with their flushed cheeks hurried past you with their hands shoved into their jacket pockets, while a short gust of wind nearly took your hat right off of your head.

Your first stop was the liquor store. Mr. Campbell really enjoyed the nip of Jack Daniel’s you gave him every Friday, he always told you it was the best part of his week and you loved it too. It felt nice to have something steady in your life even if was just a sweet elderly man and a bouquet of self-bought flowers.

The wind caught the door on your way into the flower shop and you had a hard time holding on to it but you managed to close it before it flew off the hinges.

“A little windy out there, y/n?” He joked, barely looking up from the arrangement he was putting together.

You pressed your lips together and replied. “Just a little. I nearly lost my hat, Mr. Campbell!”

“So what sort of bouquet will make you feel good today, my dear.” He asked.

Looking around the shop, the sunflowers caught your eye. “Something with a few sunflowers, I think.” You said.

And off he went picking out autumn colors of burnt orange, bright yellow, and deep red with the sunflowers being the focal point in the middle next to fern like greens. It was a beautiful work of art just like every other week which always put a smile on your face.

As you opened your purse, Mr. Campbell stopped you, waving his hand at you to put your wallet away. “No…no, they’re already paid for y/n.”

You had a confused yet skeptical look on your face. “What do you mean they’re already paid for?” You said.

“Exactly what I said y/n, someone has already paid for your flowers.” He said, with a devilish grin stretched across his face.

“Well, who paid for them?” You asked.

“I am sworn to secrecy, my dear.” He said raising his hand and closing his eyes.

Reaching into your tote bag, you pulled out the nip of Jack Daniel’s. “Ya know I’m not sure you deserve this today but that wouldn’t be very nice of me, would it.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I’m sworn to secrecy but you will find out soon who paid for them, he promised.” He stated with a slight smile as you waved and left the store.

Who could it be?

For the next few weeks, every time you’ve gone to pay for your flowers they had already been paid for. You even treated yourself to long stem red roses one week, orchids the next and Mr. Campbell STILL insisted he had already been paid. It didn’t matter how expensive the flowers were, you didn’t have to pay a dime.

Every week, you would BEG Mr. Campbell to tell you who was paying for your bouquets but he didn’t fold. He didn’t give up the name of the man buying you whatever your little heart desired that week but he really loved watching you smile.

Finally on week number four, you walked in to pick out your flowers and after putting together your bouquet, Mr. Campbell had a little something extra to add…it was a note that said:

Someone as sweet as you shouldn’t have to buy their own flowers. I hope you’ve been enjoying them. Now look outside…

You looked up from the card toward the door and flashing his perfect smile at you was the handsome man that had held the door open for you a handful of weeks ago. Warmth rushed to your cheeks and suddenly there were butterflies in your stomach as he walked through the door and planted himself firmly in front of you.

“Billy Russo…it’s nice to finally meet you…” He said, extending his hand for you to shake.

You extended your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Billy. I’m y/f/n y/l/n. So you’re the one that swore Mr. Campbell to secrecy?” You asked.

“Ah I knew Luther would be able to keep my secret, although he wanted me to tell you two weeks ago. He can be a little impatient.” Billy said with a warm smile and a slight whisper.

Looking over the tops of his glasses, Mr. Campbell said. “Well don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And do you have something for me, my dear y/n?”

You had completely forgotten about the nip of Jack Daniel’s in your bag that was meant for him so you reached in the bag and set it on the counter.

“Oh!! I am so sorry Mr. Campbell. Here ya go.” You said.

He took the little nip bottle and walked into the back room, behind the counter. He was gone for a few minutes.

“So what do ya say? Will you have a drink with me? I promise, it will be something better than Jack Daniel’s.” Billy said.

You chuckled a little when you heard Mr. Campbell shout from the back room. “I heard that, Billy!”

“I knew you would, sir!” Billy shouted back. “He has the best flowers in town plus he’s a veteran and I like supporting veteran owned businesses.” Billy said.

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. They looked like two endless pools of dark chocolate and they weren’t looking at anything except you.

Moving a stray hair away from your face, you replied. “I do too…I have friends and family that are veterans. Did you serve, Billy?”

“Three tours in Iraq…one in Afghanistan.” He said softly, inching closer to you.

Mr. Campbell surprised both of you when he appeared from the back. “Will you two get outta here! You can learn all about each other over a drink…GO! Get out!” He said, practically shooing you out of his shop and handing Billy his flowers.

“Alright, alright Mr. Campbell, we’re going…I’ll see you next week!” You said as you waved and walked out the door with Billy.

“Well? You wanna have that drink with me, y/n?” Billy asked again.

You bit down on your lower lip and glanced at the ground before capturing his gaze again. “I’d love to.” You said. “But I do have to drop these flowers off at home first so they don’t wilt. I live only a couple blocks from here. And it looks like you have flowers to drop off as well. Can I meet you in an hour? Is that enough time?”

Billy smiled. “That’s perfect…don’t you wanna know where I’m going to drop these off?” He asked nervously before opening the door to his car.

“As long as they’re not going to a wife or a girlfriend, it’s really none of my business Billy. But if you wanna tell me, you’re more than welcome to tell me later or another time. It’s up to you.” You said with a welcoming smile.

Billy looked surprised by your answer, he wasn’t expecting it and ultimately it was his decision of whether or not he wanted to tell you where he went every week at this time.

“Well ok then. So I’ll meet you back here in an hour?” He asked.

“I’ll see you in an hour…and Billy?

He looked up so his eyes were locked on yours.

A big smile stretched across your lips as you said “Thank you for my flowers.”

Billy smiled a wide Cheshire cat smile and winked at you. “You’re welcome, y/n and I will see you very soon.”

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[fascinatedscrawls]

CC TV

Four in the morning was the absolute worst time of day. Too late to stay up and still feel good, too early to wake up without feeling like he wasn't being punished - just the worst.

At least it seemed like everyone else had the same opinion as the roads were nearly empty as he raced to his production company's office building. Not the larger one he usually visited with the recording studios, but the more traditional office building where most of those in management got their work done.

Screeching into a parking spot (or two, he didn't really check the lines), Eddie barely managed to turn off the car before hopping out and rushing in. His nerves were already shot when he got the call to head over fifteen minutes ago, but seeing the ambulance parked outside the back entrance only ratcheted them up further.

A quick glance showed him that the vehicle was empty. Quiet.

Inside the building then.

The jangling noises of his chains was distracting as he tried to find the right room in the maze of offices, but not because it was loud. Conversely, it was because he didn't have time to throw on everything he normally did and the fact he only had a wallet chain and his keys kept making him think he left something behind. 

(He did. He left them at home which meant he didn't need to keep checking his wrists for bracelets that weren't there, especially when it only brought attention to the fact he was only wearing two rings right now.)

Eventually he turned the last corner only to stop short when he nearly ran into someone.

"Whoa there." Eddie leaned back, hands up but not quite touching the slim woman in front of him, held there just in case she fell over as she stumbled back.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." He saw a flash of red rimmed blue eyes before she glanced over her shoulder at the door just behind her. Reading the 'Security' listed on the front, Eddie felt his eyebrows rise up. When the woman turned back her lopsided blond ponytail swung over her shoulder. "Do you need to get past? I'm just waiting on my manager and..."

She took a shaky breath, holding it as she blinked rapidly and Eddie's own worry diminished a little in the face of hers.

"Yours too?" Because that's what his terrible wake-up call was about.

"Too? Oh!" Hand coming up to cover her mouth, the woman looked more surprised than sad, which wasn't much better, but a step in the right direction. "You mean Miss Buckley?"

"That's my Birdie." Eddie confirmed with a smile that probably didn't look as relaxed as he tried to make it if the woman's sympathetic look was anything to go by. Not too sympathetic though, which meant Robbie was probably fine behind that door. Probably.

Christ, Eddie hoped so.

Robin was an old friend from high school, part of the marching band where he and the others went off the rails early to try and catch the crazy train to stardom. But even though she never wanted to trade her trumpet for a guitar, she helped them land gigs, set up their shows, and even followed them into the business when they first got signed. She couldn't just walk directly in and become their manager unfortunately, so she worked her way up through the usual routes, interning then assistant until she got enough experience that they could request her specifically.

He wasn't sure what they'd do without her at this point. Both personally and professionally.

Damn, he needed to call the others. Not right then, but after he got more information. He needed to remember that

"Wait, that means-" Frown turning around into an excited smile that only wobbled a little, the woman pointed at him. "You're the other CC! Oh, goodness! I've heard so much about you!"

Other CC?

Hang on.

Eddie blinked again and tried to wake up a little more. He thought the woman looked familiar, but he it was probably because he just wasn't used to seeing her in casual clothes instead of over the top stagewear or the high fashion she wore while modeling.

"Chrissy C?"

"You've heard of me?" The popstar looked surprised and delighted, as if there was anyone in the industry who hadn't heard of the rising star. She took home a Grammy last year for god sake!

"I'm more surprised you've heard of us." Eddie pointed out, completely reasonably.

"Of course I have!" Chrissy looked almost offended at the insinuation that she wouldn't even though their genres were completely different and the industry was huge. "I love Corroded Coffin! The Crawl is one of my favorite songs to listen to before going on stage!"

That, Eddie could feel the tips of his ears flushing a little, that was quite a complement actually. The anthem was one he and the others wrote together years ago, something to pump them and the crowds up as it literally screamed about never giving up even in the face of death.

He fought the need to grab a piece of hair to hide behind. It was an old instinct, one he tried not to do because it was all too frequently interpreted as flirting when really it was an old remnant of when he was a shy middle schooler. (And yeah, sometimes it was flirting, but relationships as a rockstar were insanely difficult, so he tried not to send mixed signals if possible.)

"Besides," she continued before he could find the words to thank her, "I'm not sure I could avoid hearing about you if I wanted to. My manager and his siblings all love your work."

Her joke was immediately cut off by a gasp before she backtracked.

"Not that I want to avoid hearing you! I love it!" She assured him, brows drawn together as if worried he was getting the wrong impression. "It's just, they were the ones to introduce me to it and they're always playing it when we're home and sometimes on tour and I'm going to shut up now."

That last part was so much like Robin that Eddie couldn't help the laugh it pulled from him.

"You talk to Robin a lot?" It sounded like it, if their mannerisms were starting to merge.

"A bit." A pretty pink flush rose to her cheeks and she looked back at the door to the security office again. "Only when we happen to be in the office at the same time. Well, when Steve needs to be in the office and Miss Buckley's in."

"Steve?" Eddie couldn't remember anyone signed to the label named Steve. Maybe one of the other ensemble bands or one of her backups?

"My manager, Steve Harrington." Waving a hand back to the security office, Chrissy bit her lip. "He has the office next to Miss Buckley's."

Oh! That Steve! Of course. Damn, Eddie must really be out of it, because not only did he have to put up with Robin griping about 'Stupid Harrington' this and 'you won't believe what Harrington said' that after she got her current possition, but after a few months it all turned around to be 'and you'll never believe what the dingus did today' in such fond tones. Whatever got Steve Harrington in Robin's good books Eddie may never know, certainly not from her.

Some best friend she was.

She wouldn't even show him a picture of the guy! Something about 'avoiding the inevitable' which was an ominous thing to say.

(Eddie did try to figure it out on his own, but he didn't really come here that often and the one time he tried checking the other offices he nearly ran into the hottest guy he'd ever seen and only missed tossing hot coffee on the poor unsuspecting man by inches. Needless to say he kind of avoided the place out of sheer embarrassment for the two months directly following that.)

"They're the only two that got trapped in the back elevator." Chrissy assured him.

The back elevator that got stuck for two hours before someone in Security realized something was wrong. The whole reason why they called Eddie in as Robin's emergency contact. Right.

"Do you know how they're doing?" And why Chrissy's manager didn't contact someone sooner? Eddie knew exactly why Robin couldn't - her cell broke just yesterday afternoon - surely it couldn't have happened to both of them on the same day, right?

"They were monitoring them on oxygen when they asked me to step outside." Reaching up, she tugged on her ponytail in a way that made it obvious why it was so lopsided. "The rooms a bit too small for everyone to fit."

"Oxygen?" That was more worrying than the rest of it. Aren't elevators ventilated? "Why would they need that, did they pass out?"

"Whatever broke gave off a smell or something?" She gave her ponytail another worried tug. "They couldn't say. Some maintenance person is looking at it now. Their Oh-Two levels were just low so they're being careful."

That was concerning, but not life threatening. Eddie could feel the tension lingering in his shoulders, but until he saw Robin whole and hale he wasn't going to be able to shake it. Maybe he could distract Chrissy before she tore her hair out though.

"Are you and Steve close?"

"Of course!" Chrissy looked confused for a moment before the question really clicked and he watched her face scrunch up into a mildly disgusted look. "Um, not probably the way you're thinking."

Well, it was certainly a milder version of Robin's usual gagging whenever anyone asked if she was dating Eddie or any of the other guys.

"He's my second cousin." She explained and oh boy, maybe she and Robin should swap reactions. Chrissy had way more reason to be grossed out by the implications. "We didn't really know each other well until my mother pushed me to try to go professional. He was already working with a label at the time, though as more of a runner than a manager, so our parents got us in touch."

Ah, nepotism. Eddie wondered how old this guy was to get her in to the biz. If he was in his forties and fifties it would narrow the pool of managers Eddie got a good look at up on Robin's floor. (Maybe the balding one?) Well, he'd be more mad if she didn't have the talent to back it up.

"Helped you get signed then?"

She shook her head so vehemently her hair tie started to slip.

"Oh, no. We actually kind of bombed with his original label. Well, I did." Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder and then over Eddie's as if there would be anyone else in this pace at four in the goddamn morning. There weren't any camera's to avoid either, not directly outside the security office (which felt like a huge hole in security actually). She even lowered her voice to say, "When they tried to, uh, ask me to convince them to sign me he basically quit on the spot."

Damn. Well, Eddie certainly knew why she was so cautious. Sleeping your way into the industry wasn't unheard of and he wasn't about to look down on those who wanted to try and do it to follow their dream, but Eddie knew he wasn't the only one to be disgusted by executives and producers who thought it should be the norm. If everyone involved consented it wasn't Eddie's place to judge, but anything other than explicit consent was never something he could get behind. 

(In fact, he was more than happy to take whatever steps necessary to ensure it would never happen to anyone ever again, but that was a whole other argument and the look on Chrissy's face said he'd be preaching to the choir right then.)

So, less nepotism and more heroics, huh?

"Sounds like a good dude."

"He is." She confirmed with a soft smile, that turned a little mischievous. "When he's not being a petty bitch, of course."

"A bitch?" Eddie prompted with a smile of his own, more than happy to keep them both distracted with this unexpected gossip session as they waited for that damn Security door to open.

"Oh, yeah." Nodding seriously, she ignored how her hair was practically down at this point to lean in like telling a secret. "He says it's a defense mechanism from having to look after his kids for so long, but I know it's just because he was a mean girl in high school. Babysitting probably didn't help it, but it definitely wasn't the start, you know?"

A heroic, bitchy babysitter? This guy was sounding a bit impossible.

"I'm beginning to think you're pulling my leg, Miss C." He grinned when she pouted at him. "Next you're going to tell me he's a handsome prince who loves long walks on the beach and getting caught in the rain."

Hand slapping to her face, Chrissy snorted loud enough to earn her a concerned look. Still choking on a laugh she shook her head only to laugh harder when her ponytail finally gave up the ghost and the tie hit the floor.

"While I do love making pretty girls laugh," Eddie admitted with a wink before leaning down to pick the hair tie up. "I didn't think that joke warranted all that."

"Sorry!" She squeaked out before taking some deep breaths to try not to laugh, her stress obviously bleeding into the happier emotion and making it hard to control. It mostly worked, but Eddie could still see her lips twitching as she explained. "Some of the other kids in high school called him 'King Steve' actually?"

The last came out as a question before she had to bite her lips against further laughter and Eddie let out a sharp laugh of his own because what were the odds?

"How do you even know that?" He asked, incredulous. Waving the hair tie, he motioned for her to turn around. Did her cousin like to relive his glory days or something?

"He was only one year above me," she pointed out like it was obvious, before doing as he asked. Eddie's hands were already pulling her hair back as the words sunk in and he paused for a moment. "It wasn't that hard to figure out."

So not some old guy then. Shit. That was most of Eddie's last defense against thinking that this random manager might be his dream guy.

Because the only other manager around their age on Robin’s floor was the guy he nearly scalded with coffee.

He tried not to think about that as he put her hair back up.

Tried not to think about tanned skin, brown eyes, plush lips. Tried not to think about the guilty dreams he had in the days and weeks that followed, the ones where he wasn't a klutz, where he was smooth enough to ask the guy out, to hear more than just a startled 'It's fine', to feel how soft those lips might be.

It didn't work.

Just the not thinking part. Chrissy's hair looked amazing once he was done with it.

"He single?" The question slipped out almost unconsciously. Actually, Eddie didn't really intend to ask it at all, but four o'clock in the morning made him a bit stupid. Again, it was a punishment even as the clock ticked closer to five.

He would have face palmed if it weren't for how quickly Chrissy turned to face him.

"Yes." Chrissy answered before he could take it back then jumped directly to a question of her own. "Is Miss Buckley?"

Oh. Oh. Someone's got a crush (and it's not just him on some guy he's probably only spoken to once).

Chrissy C, biggest popstar of the last three years, wore an expression so hopeful it made Eddie want to pinch her cheek.

"She is indeed."

Chrissy's smile lit up the hallway.

Actually, that was probably just the light from the Security room.

"CC?"

Eddie blinked away the spots caused by the brighter light and felt his breath catch at the sight of the man standing in the doorway.

It was him.

His brown eyes were concerned and his lips were set in a slight frown as he looked the other woman over. The guy looked tired, bags under his eyes and his clothes wrinkled, but none of that could stop Eddie from noticing the shape of his jaw, the curl of his hair across his brow, the size of his hands as he reached for Chrissy.

"Hey, TV," Chrissy reached out to take the offered hand, voice soft. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Someone inside, probably Robin if Eddie was hearing it right, told him to sit back down and the guy rolled his eyes. "How about you? I thought I heard you out here?"

Dreams of that voice really couldn't measure up to hearing the real thing. Eddie wasn't sure if the guy's voice was rough from what they just went through or if it sounded like that all the time, but he couldn't quite stop the shiver working it's way up his spine at the sound of it.

"I was talking to - oh," Chrissy gave Eddie a guilty look before turning back to the man. "Oh, Steve help, you know I'm bad with names."

Those brown eyes met his and the introduction Eddie was going to make died on his tongue, because Steve's eyes were almost glowing in the fluorescent lighting and something about having that full focus on him made Eddie's mind go just as blank now as it did when he bumped into the man three months ago.

"Eddie Munson." His name slipped out of those perfect lips and Eddie couldn't do anything but smile in return, barely managing a nod, one hand tugging a lock of hair forward unconciously.

"That's it! Eddie!" Chrissy grinned at him, the sparkle in her eye only growing as she tugged Steve out of the doorway. "He was kind enough to keep me company while we were waiting on you."

"Really?" It looked like Steve was having as much trouble looking away as Eddie was, because his eyes only flicked down to Eddie's rumpled clothes once before settling on his face again as he offered a small smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." The words came out almost as a whisper so Eddie cleared his throat and tried again. "It was a pleasure getting to know the 'other CC'."

Chrissy threw him a grin and then grabbed the handle to the security office.

"I'm going to check on Miss Buckley, keep an eye on Steve, alright?" She said like that made any sense when Eddie came here specifically to check on his best friend, but he was also pretty sure Birdie would be in good hands and he hoped to god that Steve wouldn't mind being in his.

"Of course." The promise was unnecessary, seeing as the door was already swinging shut, but something about it had Steve raising a single brow, attention still focused on Eddie.

"You're going to keep an eye on me?" Steve asked, a smirk curling the edges of his mouth in a way that made it somehow more impossible to look away from. "After everything that Rob's had to pull you out of?"

"I see my reputation proceeds me." Grinning, Eddie tipped forward, tilting his head to one side teasingly. "Surely you don't think I could get in to anything in a back hallway, do you Stevie?"

When Steve didn't back up, didn't lean away, didn't try to hide the way his eyes tracked Eddie's tongue as he wet his lips, Eddie reached out with one finger to tug at Steve's belt loop with a grin.

"I think you could certainly try." The hand that covered Eddie's was warm and he still desperately wanted to know if Steve's lips were just as soft as they looked, as soft as his touch.

And maybe it was a really good thing there weren't any cameras here, because relationships were hard when you were a rockstar and hiding the way Steve backed Eddie up to the opposite wall to let him feel just how soft his lips were would be really difficult otherwise.

At least this way they managed to make it two weeks before some pap caught them holding hands in a restaurant a few blocks down the road.

----------------------------

Thanks again for helping me with the prompt poll! Jokes a bit on you because this one kept asking to be written so I already had most of it done before the poll finished, but it's nice that my muse read your collective minds for once lol

If it wasn't obvious: CC is Chrissy Cunningham and Corroded Coffin and TV was Chrissy's way of shortening Stevie to a similar nickname. When I get this on AO3 one day I may change the title, but we'll see

[sturnprime]

SOFIA, chris sturniolo 🩵

from h ꨄ︎ ⎯ i would have written smut if i knew how to but i think it would suck arse so 😝

i hope you love it 🩵 (join the taglist here)

as decided, once matt and nick arrived home and sorted out the few bits of groceries they brought from a local store, the brothers alongside nate went to the car and straight to carlos' ice cream parlour. the specific parlour was one that everyone in the small village seemed to be talking about and whenever they made conversation with locals, it was practically always the first thing recommended so the decision to try it out the previous day was most certainly an easy one. long story short, they all absolutely adored it beyond belief, hence the will to get some more the following day.

now, truth be told, the parlour was in fact in walking distance and they could have easily made it there in under fifteen minutes on foot if they truly wanted to but the scorching heat seemed far too extreme to even consider walking and so they had settled on the car, driving the quick route with the slight breeze seeping in through the windows and arriving in no time at all with excitement bubbling up inside of each individual at the prospect of easing their warmth.

the area was mostly void of people besides the few who roamed around almost mindlessly yet as the four of them approached the parlour, they took note of the way it was bustling with people. the animated atmosphere welcomed them with open arms as soon as they stepped inside and the small bell above them chimed, signalling new customers had arrived. most of the seats were occupied and quite literally everyone there had a smile on their face as they exchanged conversation from across the parlour in delight, not even caring that anyone could hear their conversations because it truly was seemingly a normality here.

chris couldn't help the fascination that sprouted inside of him as his curious eyes took in the various groups that came together ever so flawlessly. he offered a smile to anyone who caught his eyes as he, his brothers and nate moved towards the ordering booth that was placed just beside the vibrant array of never ending flavours. when they had the ice cream yesterday, nate had gotten it but this time chris was permitted to see the environment and he quite honestly adored it for what it was.

he could hear small strings of numerous conversation and the sound of laughter travelled to his ears and faded into a slight buzz of admiration. he smiled yet again to himself as he looked to the ceiling, eyes meeting the multiple chandeliers and uniquely, shaped lights scattering the surface. seeing as it was day time, they weren't switched on but part of him just knew the illumination would not be too bright nor too dull, just the right amount to perfectly accommodate the customers. 

his eyes flickered over the flavours presented at the front before he instantly decided on his choice, a classic cookies and cream that he undoubtedly knew he would enjoy as per usual and never go wrong with. the man at the front allowed them to ponder over their options for a few minutes before he kindly stepped forward and asked if they were ready to order. they all informed him on what flavours they wanted and how many scoops before he told them they could either stick around or find a seat.

they were too engrossed in their conversation as it was and didn't seem to mind standing around and waiting as carlos prepared their orders. the exchange of words they shared seemed to make time stand still and spiral ahead all at once, providing them with a miniature moment of utter humour that they were positive they would never forget due to how joyous it made them feel.

"hija! can you get me some more tubs, por favor?" chris heard the man yell to whoever was behind the doors and just a few seconds later, none other than what chris could only deem as the prettiest girl he had ever seen, came out with a brand new stack of tubs balancing in her hands.

"you're drooling," nick's voice pulled him out of the trance he had stepped into and for a moment chris genuinely believed him because he was basically gaping at the girl, eyes filled with a glint he could almost see himself.

"she's so fucking pretty," chris commented as his eyes remained glued to her before he abruptly looked away, not wanting to appear as some sort of creep if she looked in their direction.

"go talk to her," nate encouraged him and chris thought about it for a moment, considering stepping closer to the desk to speak to her but the universe was apparently on his side because she beat him to it, offering the group a soft smile that chris was sure made him melt more than the ice cream when it left the coolness of the store.

"i've never seen you guys before, are you visiting?" she asked them, curious eyes and the most unique accent chris has ever heard in his life, one that had him wanting to hear her voice over and over again.

"we're here for the summer, we're from boston," nick answered on their behalves and her eyes lit up at the information.

"i don't think we've had visitors from there before, how did you come across the village?" she pondered aloud, her head quickly turning back to see if her dad was focused on her but he was too busy preparing orders to care.

"our grandma has a friend who has family here and she told us it was a peaceful place to visit," matt told her and she nodded along eagerly before a sort of realisation dawned on her face.

"i didn't even introduce myself, how rude! i'm sofia and that's my father, carlos," she pointed at her dad who offered them smiles.

"i'm nate, their friend and they're all brothers, nick, matt and chris," nate introduced and sofia would be lying if he she said her gaze didn't remain on chris as she studied the group in front of her, most definitely enamoured by the sight before her as well as his ever so charming smile.

"nice to meet you all," she grinned just as carlos yelled a few words about their orders being ready and so she hurried to grab them from him alongside some plastic spoons.

"guessing people's ice cream flavours is my speciality," she told them as she was in earshot once more before she handed them all what flavour she thought they had selected and remarkably, her guesses were all correct.

"how the fuck did you-" nate began to ask but sofia interrupted him immediately, her eyes glimmering at the not quite delivered question.

"you were the easiest to guess. you remind me of my best friend daphne and daphne always sneaks cotton candy into a tub. my dad pretends to be mad but he's always preparing her order way before she even gets here," sofia explained with a fond smile, the admiration evident in her eyes as she spoke about her father and best friend; two of the most important people in her life and people whom she would never be able to express her mounts of gratitude for.

"what do you always have then?" chris queried and her eyes brightened up at the question, happy that the boy was taking an interest in her when she was very much interested in him too.

"blue raspberry," she answered, pointing at the flavour that chris had seemingly missed because his jaw hung open in shock the very moment he laid eyes on the presented container filled with the blue contents and marked with blue ras on the front.

"blue raspberry ice cream exists?" he exclaimed in shock, the tone of his voice making his surprise extremely prominent, if not already clear from the way his jaw was practically on the floor at her words.

"of course. don't tell me you've never tried it before?" her eyes widened at the realisation before she without a second thought or word to spare went further behind the counter once more and scooped up some of her favourite flavour with a small smile still playing at her lips.

"hija i thought we save your flavour until there's a break," her dad chuckled though he mindlessly handed her a bundle of the colourful, plastic spoons from the side, knowing she liked to pick her own and watching as she picked out the blue one with no hesitation.

"it's not for me padre, it's for him," she pointed at chris and carlos raised his brow once he spotted chris before smirking that knowing smirk of his a little.

"él es tu novio? que guapo," he pondered and sofia sighed loudly as she shook her head firmly, a small hint of red threatening to break out onto her face but being pushed down instantaneously.

"no i only just met him today, he's a friend?" she retorted almost questioningly, not knowing their status given the fact that they'd just met, but carlos only seemed to laugh harder at her words and their frustrated delivery.

"pero él es guapo, sí o no?" he pressed further and she shook her head once more, elbowing his ribs the moment he laughed again, his pearly white teeth shining on display through the curious smile he maintained.

"sí pero él es un amigo, nada más," she reminded him with a small huff that made him look to chris yet again, connecting eyes with the teenage boy before he abruptly looked away.

"amigo, that's what they all say," he grinned and she flicked a piece of his hair as she walked away and returned to her previous position where the boys were waiting for her.

"were you speaking spanish?" nate said as she handed chris the small tub of ice cream and the blue spoon to match, a small detail he picked up on but she didn't think he had seeing as no one ever really did.

"no she was speaking french idiot, of course she was speaking spanish," matt rolled his eyes and nate raised his hands up in mock surrender.

"yeah my dad's spanish and he has this thing of continuing to speak spanish because he doesn't want me to forget the language," she shook her head at the absurdity of forgetting spanish when it meant so much to her and then she watched as chris took a bite of the ice cream and broke out into an incredibly large smile as the flavour hit his mouth.

"that tastes so fucking good," he hummed and she nodded her head, a smile weaving its way onto her face at their mutual excitement that made chris give her a large smile in response.

"i can speak french," chris told her with a grin and she immediately gasped.

"can you actually? i love the way french sounds," she smiled and chris forced away the smile that threatened to break out at her gullibility so he could continue his act that he wasn't even sure why he was performing.

"yeah i went paris for a school trip and learnt it all there," he continued to lie and clearly nick had enough of his bullshit as he ceased the conversation.

"okay he's literally lying to you, kid's never been france in his life and the only french thing he can say is bonjour," the eldest triplet shook his head and sofia scoffed at chris seeing as she had been thoroughly interested in what he was saying, only for it to turn out false.

"why did i actually believe you? this is betrayal," she shook her head at chris who merely laughed at the expression portrayed on her face.

he was about to respond but the sound of carlos calling her to help with something or the other stopped him. before she could disappear however, chris made sure this wasn't the last of her he was seeing.

"can i get your number? i'd like to hang out when you get off work?" he smirked and she bit her lip nervously, nodding her head and grabbing his phone to type in her number.

"bye sofia," he mumbled and she muttered a small bye chris as a means of reply, too dazed to realise she never said goodbye to the others but frankly not finding it within herself to care, not when chris offered her that beautiful smile one last time.

as promised, chris texted her later that night and asked if she wanted to hang out. there was no way on planet earth she could possibly say no to him and so she agreed in an instance, recommending various places but hoping he chose one of her favourites. luckily for her, he chose one of the small beaches that people didn't really go to at night unless they wanted to relax so the calming environment would certainly help to ease her nerves.

she approached the entrance and prayed he was already there, a smile working its way onto her face as she noticed him glancing around, presumably for her.

he breathed out a sigh of relief as she approached him, words spilling out of him, "for a second there i thought you weren't coming."

"i couldn't leave you like that," she grinned at him, a surge of confidence leading her to grab his hand and lead him into the beach.

the soft humming of the people and the slashing of the waves was a tranquil melody in the background of their exchanged words. sofia found it was easy to talk to him for the most part, aside from the very obvious attraction she was feeling. guys like chris didn't just turn up to her village randomly; this felt like a major dream and the feeling of his rough and large hand against hers as they remained intertwined was driving her a little over the edge the more she thought about it.

"what's on your mind?" the lowness of his voice was not helping and she could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, a teasing smirk never parting from his face as he stared at her from their place on the grainy sand.

"stop looking at me like that!" she shoved him slightly and a laugh escaped his lips before he licked at them, staring intently at her as her eyes met his.

"like what?" his hand moved to cup her cheek and her breath hitched in her throat, a small gasp sounding into the air at the touch and making her blink her eyes shut in embarrassment.

"come on sof, open your eyes yeah? wanna see you," he mumbled, his hand swiping across her face and his eyes watching as her eyes slowly fluttered open, hazel meeting blue in a kaleidoscope of adoration.

"you gonna let me kiss you?" he asked and all she could do was nod her head weakly, parting her lips and giving him the perfect access to attack her mouth with his own.

she just seemed so innocent and the idea of kissing her and maybe doing more thrilled chris beyond belief. he wasted no time in attaching their lips, claiming hers in a pure frenzy and making sure to slide his tongue into her mouth at her sudden gasp when he bit down on her lip.

he practically chased after her, his hands desperately clutching any part of her body he could and relishing in the way they fit so perfectly around her as though they were crafted to hold her and her alone. her hands rushed to his hair, tugging on it in a way that made him lose any sense of composure he had left.

“chris,” a whine fell from those plump lips and chris couldn’t help but steal them again, his entire being wanting nothing but her in the moment to the point he was sure all he was breathing right now was the hypnotic scent of her perfume and the miniature breaths wafting into the air.

“hm?” he asked when he finally pulled apart and she stared at him, eyes wide and expression portraying something chris couldn’t read even if he tried his hardest to.

“i know a place…” she trailed off and fuck, he was in another world entirely as he stood up and followed after her without hesitation, not a single thought in his head except how much he craved her.

TAGS 𖤐 @mattslolita @eyeliketoeatpoosay @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe !

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @elsie-writes!

Find the Word Tag

My words: cup, desk, sparkle, calm, hundred

Your words: ground, convert, circle, link

Pulled from MG book 2 ;)

.

"A cursed weapon, huh...," the woman breathed.

"Oh, the Garell boy's curse is actin' up again!" Elwe piped up. "I was supposed to tell you when ya got in."

Astra sighed long-sufferingly. "I told you, momma, that ain't a curse. He's got asthma. Tell 'em to keep makin' 'im breathe the vapor from a cup a' branic tea twice a day. It ain't ever gonna go away, but that'll help some."

.

Her hand made no sound against the sturdy, iron door. The noise of her hydraulic pump and dragging foot, however, betrayed her. The rhythmic pings that had echoed from inside ceased at once.

Vermir stepped into the darkened interior. Azidor's was a small shop, specializing in only certain materials and catering to a specific crowd. Strewn about the tables and benches, she could see metallic hands prepared with hidden tools, silver faces etched with beautiful, floral designs. A sign at the front desk read in both Janazi and Kevete: High-quality adjustments for robotic parts and prosthetics alike. Ask about our sensory rune upgrades!

.

"We ain't never gettin' into that central lab, are we?" Astra muttered. Her gaze flicked up to meet his. None of the typical mirth or bravado sparkled in her blood-ringed eyes.

"It's...." The man swore under his breath. "What other choice do we have?"

.

"I'll be right behind you," Mashal said. By his tone, it was obvious he was trying to calm her anxiety while being rather afraid of the crossing himself. "If you slip, I'll catch you."

"If'n I slip, you keep your hands to yourself so I don't drag us both down," she answered a little more snappishly than she intended.

When Mashal's expression went sad, Astra took a deep breath, berating herself internally. She had to get a handle on her fear. Her ma had always said that when the night was dark, there was no need to start painting with pitch, even if the colors matched.

"We're gonna be fine," Astra said, offering a smile over her shoulder. "I ain't gonna fall and neither are you. In fifteen minutes- Nah, twelve. I'm gonna beat my record, I can feel it. In twelve minutes, we're gonna be home free."

.

"You're taking your sweet time for some squiggles." Thibault's eyes darted nervously to the hall they'd come from. Mashal and Avymere stood ready and tensed, prepared to fight at a moment’s notice.

"My momma always said, if ya don't know shit about a thing, you'd best keep your mouth shut 'fore that shit starts leakin' out from 'tween your lips," the witch muttered. "I need you to remember this number though - one thousand six hundred and seventy point fifteen. If I ask for the Tamm unit conversion, talk it back to me."

Thibault's ears flicked anxiously. "That's a hell of a number...."

"Well, all ya gotta do is remember it, thank the gods," Astra shot back.

.

I'll tag @mk-writes-stuff @aestheic-writer18 @winglesswriter @autism-purgatory and anyone else who's interested :)

[osakunt]

Two weeks ago I went out with this dude I’ve known and have liked since middle school. The dialogue and everything in this piece is taken from what occurred that day. With me and him being hood rats, the dialogue is definitely something. Lmaoo this is pt 1.

“Wanna go to target and walk around then go to the movies ?”

You look over at him with a small smile, while waiting for the light to turn green. He looks over at you and blinks a few times before answering.

“Yea……..Wait what’s at Target, (y/n) ? HmmMM ?”

“Nothing(?) it’s Target. We got a whole hour and some minutes left before the movie starts sooooo…”

He squints his eyes at you thinking that you’re trying to set him up. All you wanna do is just take the boy to Target, man.

The drive to Target definitely took most of the time because you told him you’d pick him up and him living on the East side of town would take at least a good fifteen to half an hour with traffic to get to his place.

With that one Target being on the North side, it most definitely did take a long minute to get there. With the weather being rainy, traffic was slow so yea, time was burnt just with the drive there.

“Put your jacket on. It’s drizzling and I don’t want you getting sick”

You look at your back seat, contemplating if to put it on or not.

“Nah. I’ll be fine. It’s not raining, raining”

As you two walk the parking into the store, he speaks up and gets closer to you.

“Switch sides with me. I don’t want you walking on the outside”

You look up at him with your lips pursed - trying not to cackle.

“Ohhh ?? A gentleman, I see”

“Girl, always. Now get on my side”

“I’m fine here though”

The mischievous smile on your face is seen by him. Causing him to sigh.

“Bro - just switch”

Giving him a hard time is your pass time. You’ve known him since middle school, so he knew very well that you could be hard headed.

You switch sides with him just for him to start walking two steps behind you. You didn’t mind but it did make you feel a bit weird because you have all these thoughts running through your head.

As you renter the building, you guide him straight to the men’s section. All he can do is follow and try to keep up with his fast you’re walking.

“Their shirts are nice. I got this one from here”

He looks down at the black Kakashi shirt you have on that you pairs with sweatpants and J’s.

“Shirt does go hard though. Ohhhh this yo section right here” he goes to the other side where the anime shirts are waiting for you to react at the shirts displayed.

“Mmmh. They don’t have good shit today”

You two had been in Target for little too long now. All he can do is follow. Next thing he know you were in the book section.

He goes straight, grabbing a book saying how good it was while you went to where the mangas were. You look to see what volumes you had and trying to see if the store had the ones you wanted.

Since you stay going to that specific Target you have the volumes they have available so you just grab a Dragon Ball Super volume.

“You read ?” Kuroo looks at you with furrowed brows along with a questionable look.

“Yeaaaaa”

“(Y/n)” he pauses before grabbing the manga out your hand and skimming it.

“Since when do you read ??? I’ve never seen you read. See you cappin’”

“Motherfucker, how you gonna tell me what I do and don’t ! I’ve been reading” you whisper shout not wanting to be extra ghetto at Targét~

“…..okay okay. Nah cause I believe you. I can see your punk ass reading”. He continues to skim through the book before giving it back.

“See I would read but -……. Uh uh. I don’t have the patience”

You roll your eyes knowing he was trying to get smart. You look back to the shelf one more time expecting for a new volume of something to magically appear before he interrupts.

“Where’s the bathroom in here ?”

“The front. Go ahead. I’ll stay here. If you don’t find me here then go to the Lego section”

Just as said. You had moved to the Lego section. When he did find you he had a shirt in hand. He unfolds it and smiles at you

“Imma get it”

You turn your head to the side trying to figure out what the graphics are on it. He notices you’re having a hard time with the blurred picture.

“It’s Ali, girl”

“…..wait, unfold it again ……pfftt ohhhhh okay I see it”

He shakes his head while you giggle at how long it took you to make out the picture.

Y’all browse the Lego section talking about how cool it would be to build a set and how pretty the car Lego sets are.

You check the time - seeing it says 6:30, you ask him if he’s ready to go. Nodding his head “yes” you two start walking to the check out area.

Walking behind you, you look up at him when he gets your attention.

“You better grab something. Their AP is gonna think we stealing”

His anxiety of him thinking that people are thinking that you two are stealing, was honestly a relatable feeling.

“No cause tell me why, when I go into a store and I don’t find what I want, I still grab something so they don’t think I’m sus” you both smile agreeing that the last thing y’all need is for someone to thing you out here doing sketchy things and out of all places, Target.

“Still grab something” he looks at you all serious after just smiling.

“Kuroo, I got the manga. Calm down”

Once at the self check out he offers to pay for your things. You’re hesitant to let him do so because you felt some type of way when someone paid for you. At the end he forced it on you.

“Just pass the book. I’ll pay for it. I’m not taking “no” for an answer”

[foggyfanfic]

Hi! I noticed that your works feel very thought through and you mentioned couple of times when you researched something for a scene or in general for the plot

So I wanted to ask, how much time do you usually spend researching for your fanfiction or your art? Do you rewatch the source material and if yes, how many times?

Oh hey look! Things you sent while shadow banned are beginning to reappear! At least, the date on this says it was sent two months ago, but it wasn't in my inbox when I checked it a few days ago.

As usual, I am wordy, so I'm putting a cut.

To be honest, I've been way better at researching things since starting my ADHD meds. That said, generally if I want to include a detail in my story, but I'm not sure how realistic it is, I'll take a few minutes to google it. The amount of time I spend researching it is directly proportional to how much I think people will actually care. So when I need a culturally appropriate food for the characters to eat I'll google a Colombian cookbook, take the first one that looks reasonable for the circumstances (would they have the means to make it? store it? is this a breakfast, lunch or dinner food?) and slap it on the story. Takes me about fifteen minutes at most and it keeps the characters Colombian, so to speak. On the other hand, I wanted to figure out what labels a queer Colombian in the 1950's might have used for themselves so I spent a couple hours researching the queer history of Colombia (although I didn't find much before the 70's). I return to that subject whenever I feel the knowledge blurring away, because I know there's a chance somebody who is queer and from Colombia might read this stuff, and I want to do right by them. I remember when the movie first came out, the arguments over whether or not it was racist to headcanon the characters as queer, so I want to be very careful not to erase their culture while still being true to what I believe about the characters.

Other than that, I can mostly fall back on life knowledge, I grew up in an agriculture heavy area, I went to a community college and took classes in every random subject that caught my attention (from Human Sexuality, to Shakespeare, to basic architecture), and I've had a wide variety of jobs (from personal trainer to deckhand to gallery attendant) so I just kinda know stuff. I double check if I feel like it, like checking what contraception was available in the 1920's, but for the most part I've spent the last ten years trying to figure out what I'm good at other than writing, and in doing so, just made worldbuilding easier for myself. (I have now given up and I'm going back to school to get the damned artsy degree I should have gone for ten years ago.)

As for watching the source material, I have rewatched the movie specifically for fanfic twice (every other time I've rewatched it has been for funsies or in the spanish dub to practice). So far, when I start a new project, I watch the movie again and focus on whatever character my new project is about. For Love and Fury I focused on Bruno, for Mirabel's Super Secret Adventure I focused on Mirabel (and wrote that whole thingie while I did), I just got an idea for a PepaxFelix AU so I miiiiiiight rewatch again, depending on whether or not I want to commit to another big project.

[useless-bi-otch]

Cookies'n Cream - Chapter 29

Last chapter / MasterList / art by @aneenasevla

Chapter 29 - Family Interrogation

.

Friday, lunchtime, at Yamashita Trading Co.

"What the hell, Kazuo! What do you mean I violated association rules?!"

When Rihito showed up at Kazuo's office to address the matter of his employees' licenses, which meant missing out on a good portion of what could have been the start of a productive weekend, he didn't expect to find anyone but him and Kaede there. He'd hoped they could sort this out in fifteen minutes, half an hour at the most.

Who he didn't expect to meet was another businessman affiliated with the Kengan Association. More specifically, the businessman who hired the fighter Komada had defeated in his last match. And he only understood why the man was smiling like a smug bastard after Kazuo had explained the situation.

"Rihito, I tried to warn you," The old man sighed heavily. "I called you, I sent text messages, I even went after your friends to ask them to pass the message on to you. But you took too long, and now we have this problem..."

"I didn't know the licenses had already expired! I figured I still had some more time before I had to worry about that!," Rihito argued, slamming his hands on the desk. "It wasn't on purpose, damn it!"

"Yes, but when you own a company, you can't leave these issues aside. You can't just ignore them…," The smug businessman shows a document. "It could be the end of you, after all."

Rihito grabs the paper and reads: denouncement note. Kazuo looked a bit defeated.

"If this gets back to Mr. Nogi, you will definitely be out of the association as a CEO," he continues. "You might even be punished as a fighter. Unless…," the idiot picks up the paper, making a nerve-racking condescending pose. "You give up your position and hand over your company to me. Then you will resign and go back to being a lowly fighter."

"No fucking way!," Rihito yells at him, grinding his teeth. "I know this was my fault and I have to pay for that mistake, but the fridge is mine! And my employees depend on the income too!"

"Rihito, calm down-"

"Don't ask me to calm down, Kazuo! That fridge was a fucking wreck when Mr. Nogi appointed me as the new owner, but Ivan, Komada and I got it back on track! I'm not going to give it up, and neither are they!," He growls, pointing at the businessman. "There has to be another way to solve this!"

"Well, if you don't want to negotiate, I'll report you to Mr. Nogi-"

"Gentlemen, please," Kaede adjusts her glasses. "Mr. Yamashita is trying to speak."

"Th-thanks, Miss Akiyama… One moment, please, I'm looking at the regulation…," Kazuo looks at a paper. "Yeah… it doesn't say anything that you're going to gain anything from this complaint, Mr. Gojiro. Reports are anonymous. But the prize for the last Kengan match will have to be canceled-" 

"And he won't face any punishment for his irregularity!?"

"I haven't finished yet," Kazuo adjusts his glasses, seriously. "He's going to have to deliver the prize from the last dispute back to the association. Furthermore, he could lose the company if he refuses to participate in another match, this time for the Association insignia. Oh, and he has to pay a fine of one hundred and thirty-five million yen."

"WHAT?!," Rihito screeched, almost falling backwards with the shock. "One hundred and thirty-five million?! But that's the equivalent of my company's value, damn it!"

“It's fair value, considering the nature of the offense committed," Kaede adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “And the fact that Mr. Gojiro was hindered by your lapse."

"I know, I know! Aargh...," He ruffled his own hair, eyes closed as if he was suffering from a migraine. "I'll pay the fine then. But that's not enough, is it? If I'm going to have to fight to keep my insignia and my business..."

"Well, there's still the Kengan match. Against a representative that the Association chooses," Kazuo explains. "And you, Mr. Gojiro, will be paid with the prize of the match you lost, regardless of the result of this one."

"Eh, at least I didn't lose out," Gojiro snorted. "But I'll be there just to see you lose and go bankrupt. That will be satisfying to see."

“Rihito…,” Kaede calls out in a warning tone as Rihito's face reddens with anger, his fists shaking. He grits his teeth and again points to the rival businessman.

"Relax, Kaede, I'm not stupid to the point of making my situation worse. And you better not hold your breath, Goji or whatever it's your name," He grunts, taking a couple of steps closer, but that was enough for the other to realize the difference in height, and how large his foe was. "Because you won't even see the color of SF Cold Storage's facade. You can bet your ass on that."

Gojiro gets a little intimidated, but he knew he had the advantage.

"We'll see about that. With that fine and you bankrupt, no one can stop me from buying your company. It's going to be out of business, you and your employees."

"Please, you two, calm down," Kazuo asks, a little alarmed, when he sees the two men growling at each other. "Fights between association members result in a serious penalty. You know that, don't you?"

"Grunf… yeah, I know," Rihito straightens up, staring at the other man from above, his green eyes sparkling. "Relax, I know where and with whom I need to throw hands, Kazzy. And it's good that he's going to be there watching, then he'll see with his own eyes why they call me 'Superman'," He looks menacingly at the other manager. "When will this Kengan match be?"

 

* * *

Present time

"Damn it, Rihito," Himuro massages his face, shocked. "How do you manage to hit your quota of stupid shit like that? At this rate you'll be employee of the month!"

"Fuck you, Himuro! I never wanted things to get to this point..."

"If you didn't want to, you should've resolved that issue as soon as Mr. Yamashita mentioned it, all those weeks ago!," Kaneda scolds, pointing indignantly at his friend, while the three walked towards the nearest train station. "That's what happens when you keep putting off appointments, you see? Now it's back to bite you in the ass!"

"I know, you don't have to keep throwing that in my face! Argh...," Rihito rubs his face with both hands, tired. "Anyway, it was in the middle of finalizing the process that Agito appeared in the office. Kazuo and Kaede explained it to him. And that's when I decided it was a good idea to call you two so we could take him to Okubo's place. A way to distract myself..."

“Yeah, and I'm sure you'd keep it from us if he hadn't talked. Damn, I don't even know what miracle prevented Agito from opening his mouth when it was just the six of us at the karaoke!," Himuro sighs. "Now it's no use… when were you going to tell us anyway?!"

Rihito takes a while to respond, staring ahead with a frown on his face, and that was enough for Kaneda to start drawing conclusions.

"You weren't going to tell us, were you? Damn, Rihito..."

"I was going to! ... Just not with Okubo and Tomori around," He justifies himself, shrugging.

"We can understand you not wanting Tomori to listen," Himuro waves with his hand. "But Okubo? He's as involved in this as we are. And I hate to admit it, but he can help you more than we can. Thirteen million yen... I'm speechless, let me tell ya..."

"I wasn't going to borrow money from Egghead! Are you crazy?!," Rihito exclaims, sounding insulted. Kaneda shakes his head.

"Okubo is many things, but a penny-pincher is not one of them. He would gladly lend that money to you and let you pay it back in your time..."

"I know, Kaneda, that's not the problem," He sighs tiredly.​ "Okubo is already up to his neck in this thing of being in danger of losing his chick because of his involvement with the association. I don't want to put yet another problem in that smooth head of his... I can sort my own things out.”

"Okay, that's noble of you, but at the moment you can't afford to be noble, bro," Himuro gestures in frustration. "It could've been before and resolved the license thing, but look what a situation you got yourself into! An absolute delight, isn't it?!"

"Don't be a pain, Himuro...," Rihito didn't seem to have the courage to even threaten to beat his friend up. He had managed to disguise it throughout the day, to put on a mask of calmness and have fun with them all, but now, he looked exhausted. "There's nothing else to do about that. I will fight to keep my insignia and the fridge. I always found it easier to solve things that way, so I think it's the best I could hope for."

"If you say so… who is your opponent?," Kaneda asks.

"I don't know yet, it will be a freelance fighter chosen by the association. I bet they'll pick the toughest motherfucker they can, just to screw me over..."

"For your own good, let's pray it's not Ohma."

"Shut up, Kaneda!"

"Nope, you deserve it," Kaneda snorted through his nose. "Anyway, if we can, we'll find a way to be there."

Rihito turns to them, his weary, surly expression softening a bit.

"Really?"

"Of course! What are we to you, huh?," Himuro grunts. "Dude, I'm still pissed at the thirteen million debt as if I were the debtor. Fuck, I need to smoke..."

"Oh, a thousand apologies for my big-ass debt being such a pain in your ass," Rihito mutters sarcastically, and then he pouts. "But thanks anyway, guys... Ivan and Komada will be there, but you wanting it too means a lot... no homo though.”

"Stop it, c'mon," Kaneda rolls his eyes. "That's what friends do, right? You'd do the same for us."

"I'd kinda call in some favors later- I'm kidding, calm down!," He exclaims when Himuro and Kaneda threaten him with their fists. "But yeah, I'd do that. Thanks, I'm going to need it..."

"Lucky for you, we're almost at the station," Himuro snorted, after giving a half smile. "Because otherwise I would light my cigarette just to puff some smoke in your face."

"And I'd break yours in retribution!,” Rihito snorted back, and it was a relief to hear some of the playful tone return to his voice. "Anyway, I'll keep you guys updated."

"Fine, but what about Okubo?," Kaneda insists. "Are you really going to leave him in the dark?"

Rihito scratches the back of his head uncomfortably.

"I told you, he already has too much to worry about..."

"He'll be very upset if he finds out about this match, the reasons behind it and that you left him out," Kaneda warns, seriously. "Even with this situation involving Miss Uta… I mean, Tomori, he'd want to support you."

"Yeah. He might even wonder if you consider him his friend at all, with him being such an anxious wreck. At least let him know, like," He makes a call sign with his thumb and pinky. " 'Look, I have a match scheduled, if you could show up I’d appreciate it a lot!', and that's it! Problem solved!"

"Ugh... if he decides to show up and Tomori finds out and he gets dumped because of it..."

"This is for the two of them to decide, not you," Kaneda makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "And that's what I said before, if this is an aspect of his life that she isn't able to accept, then they won't work as a couple. He can't keep running away from it, just telling her half-truths. Don't enable him, Rihito, c'mon."

Rihito ponders for a few seconds before sighing, nodding.

“Okay, I'll… I'll talk to him next time we have a night out. I'll tell him everything..."

"Good. Because you're going to need all of us to support you, and he's no exception."

Rihito nods again, and that satisfies Himuro and Kaneda for now. His intentions were noble, but this was a complicated moment that required his friends to be there for support. And if Tomori wasn't able to understand that Okubo was one of those friends, then they'd better part ways.

The thought bummed them out, but when you took the bandage off a wound quickly enough, the pain was always less intense.

 

* * *

"Hnnn... Naoh... my kitchen isn't big enough for this... ooh..."

Despite Tomori's weak protests between sighs and gasps, she wasn't making any effort to push Okubo away. She was even trapping his hips with her legs, taking advantage of the fact that he had just sat her down on the kitchen counter, kissing her neck and groping her waist over the little summer dress she was wearing. And how beautiful and hot she looked in that kind of clothes, damn…

"Hnmmm… then why am I feeling this heat so close to me?," he holds her buttocks, taking advantage of the fact that she had stretched her neck to take some very light bites. "And that good smell… appetizing like the things its owner makes."

"My god, that tongue is diabolical," She laughs low, shivering all over with the bites, her hands roaming over his back over his shirt. "Was that… oooh… was that some fantasy of yours? Doing me right where I make the food you love so much? You didn't even want to wait for us to go to my room..."

"Actually, it's not even about the food," he whispers. "It's about the adrenaline… and the pure pleasure of knowing that I can make you happy in any place, hahahaha…"

"Can you really?," She teases, leaning with her hips on the counter to be able to rub herself between his legs. And he was already getting all excited, bless his fighter stamina! "I'm not so sure… I need more solid evidence."

"That's exactly what I want to do now… you just relax and enjoy, ehehhehe…"

"Tomoooooh!!," And the scream and the ringing of the bell at the gate makes Okubo freeze in the spot, opening his eyes and turning around, surprised. But he didn't look nearly as surprised as Tomori, who jumped so hard off the counter that she would have landed on her back on the kitchen floor if he hadn't caught her.

"What the- Tatsuhiko?!," She hisses between clenched teeth, her eyes widening. "My God, what is he...!"

"Tatsu, I don't think she's home," They also hear a woman's muffled voice, on the other side of the door. "She would've already answered if she was..."

"Nah, pretty sure she is, there is a car parked in front of the gate," The man replies, pressing the bell again. "Does Hiro have a new car? Looks dope… Tomoooooh!"

"Holy shit, Saeko's with him...!," Tomori hisses again, pushing Okubo away from her a little too desperately and getting down from the counter. "Didn't they come back from Hokkaido yesterday? What a time to make a surprise visit, you big...!"

"Tatsuhiko?," he repeats, a bit flustered, letting her go. "Wait, is that your brother?"

"Yes, it's him," She nods a bit frantically, adjusting her dress and hair to look more presentable. "I told you he's a clueless doofus and sometimes shows up without warning, right? Well, now you're seeing for yourself," She mutters before taking a deep breath and exclaiming, trying to normalize her voice, "Tatsu, Saeko! Yeah, I'm home! Gimme a minute, I'm coming..."

"There, see? I told you she was home!," The man says, satisfied. "Open up, Saeko and I brought you a little gift straight from Hokkaido!"

"Yeah, I'm comin'! Naoh, I think you'd better go upstairs," She hisses at him in distress, pointing to the stairs. Okubo pouts.

"Seriously? Are you really going to hide your boyfriend as if we were two teenagers making out at your parents' house? I thought you'd want to introduce me to them..."

"I want to, but not while you have a hard-on!," And she points to his pants.

"Oh," he looks down and sighs, going upstairs while muttering, "Damn, I can't get it down at the only time where I'm allowed to… that's good, but it also sucks…"

Tomori holds back the urge to laugh, saying softly, "I'll make it up to you later, I promise. I'll give you a signal when you can come down."

And she runs out to answer the door. Okubo stands around in the hallway, ears pricked. If they for some reason decided to go upstairs, he could sneak into her room. He had regained the privilege of going in there when she wasn't there, which was a big help in that kind of situation.

Downstairs, in the corridor that separated the entrance hall from the living room, Tomori unlocks the gate and opens the door, smiling with a certain weariness at her brother and sister-in-law, who were approaching along the stone path.

"Hey. If you'd come earlier, you wouldn't have found me at home. I arrived about fifteen minutes ago..."

"See how intuitive your brother is? It's like a super power," Tatsuhiko jokes, poking his own temple. He was a man in his early thirties, taller and slimmer than his sister, and his hair was straighter and darker. But behind the prescription glasses, you could see that he had the same warm brown eyes as hers. "So, are you going to invite us in or would you rather have your little gift at the door?"

"Uuh… of course, come in," She makes room for them, scratching the back of her neck a little. But I’ll let you know… I’m not alone-"

"Yeah, we deduced after seeing the car parked back there," Tatsu comments, a little distracted, while Saeko and he took off their shoes. "I even mentioned to Saeko that it was a dope car..."

"An SUV, not unreasonable to see on the streets of Tokyo," Saeko comments. She was a few feet taller than Tomori, with straight black hair cut short in a bob. There was a mole just below her lips, in the left corner, and Tomori had always been a little envious of that beauty mark, "Whose is it? Is it Hiro's? He loves these cars, right?"

"Yeah, but if he wants to buy one of those, he'll have to spend some time on bread and water alone, haha!," Tomori jokes, proud of herself for being able to disguise her nervousness. "But no, he's not the visitor."

"Huh? No? I know it isn't Akane, she doesn't drive…," Tatsu says, surprised. "Is it Kanami? I thought she didn't have a license here in Japan..."

"Tatsu… isn't it better to ask directly and hear the answer from her?," she caresses his arm, smiling gently. "Spit it out, Tomori. Who is your guest?"

"Hnf… yeah, okay," He shrugs, pouting, but accepting the caress. "If it's someone we know, you can even share the gift with them. We brought more than one..."

"Wow, you got me curious now. What is it?," She spies, smiling, seeing that her sister-in-law was carrying a small cardboard bag in one hand. "Oooh, I recognize the logo… did you bring those cream puffs from Kitakaro? Tatsu, Saeh, I love yoooou...," And she hugs her sister-in-law, who laughs and caresses her hair. "My guest will love it too!"

"Now you say you love me, right? You self-serving little thing," Tatsu jokes. "But seriously, we're also curious now! Who is that-"

He stops talking when he accidentally kicks off a pair of sneakers, right next to where he had left his shoes. He stares at them, a little flustered. And then his eyes widened.

"Hey… aren't these sneakers too big?"

Tomori and Saeko turn to him in surprise. And Tomori winces as she sees her brother's expression, in profile to her, go darker and darker as he inspects the  coat rack next to the door.

“And that jacket, that cap… that's not women's clothing. And not the kind of clothes that Hiro or Paikon would wear..."

He turns to her, and Tomori instinctively hugs her sister-in-law as she sees his sharp, dangerous gaze practically piercing her. Oh, fuck, here they go again...

"Tomori... is there a man here with you? One who's not your co-worker? In your house?!"

"So what, honey?," Saeko rolls her eyes, not at all impressed with his attitude. "It's not like she's a teenager, and your mother keeps telling her to find someone…"

"Yes, but that someone would first need to go through the family men's scrutiny, Saeh!," Tatsu justifies himself, indignant. "That way we can make sure if he's good enough for her or not!”

"My God, Tatsu…," Tomori groans, putting a hand over her face. "I'm perfectly capable of deciding this for myself, okay? This is no longer the Edo period..."

"It doesn't matter, it's a matter of safety!," He decrees dramatically, marching down the corridor, and Tomori and Saeko go after him. "It was like that with me and Saeko too, you know? Every self-respecting man is concerned about the honor of the women in his family, especially mothers and sisters! Where is he?"

"He's upstairs, in the bathroom..."

"Oh yeah? And what were you doing before we arrived?"

"Playing a really cool game called 'Nunya'."

"Nunya?"

"Nunya business!"

"Aargh, you little...!," He reaches out as if he wants to grab her ear, and she deftly dodges it.

"Stop being silly, Tatsuhiko! First, I know how to take care of my own honor very well," Tomori points to herself angrily. "And second, I wasn't going to introduce him to you before I was sure that things between us were working out! What if they didn't? How would I look explaining it to you later?"

"She has a point," Saeko smiles at Tatsu. "Come on, Tatsu, just relax and get ready to meet your sister's boyfriend, okay? Since we're here, right," she winks at Tomori.

"Boyfriend?!," He squeaks, getting a little pale, while Tomori nods, smiling at Saeko.

"Yes, boyfriend. Thanks, Saeh...," She accepts when Saeko offers her the bag. "Sit down, I'll prepare some tea."

"No, w-wait, Tomori!," He screeches, looking from his sister to his wife with a desperation that borders on being hilarious. "Since when do you have a boyfriend? I didn't hear anything about that!"

"It's quite recent. I've spent the last few months getting to know him better. We made it official a few days ago," She explains, a little embarrassed. He shakes his head.

"Do Mom and Dad know?"

"No, but I was already planning to tell them..."

"And why didn't you tell us before?"

She turns even redder.

"I... I was too happy and it got out of my head. Ugh, stop asking these questions, you're embarrassing me!"

"Yes, honey, you're embarrassing her. Come on, I'm thirsty. I accept the tea, Tomori. Put some sugar in it for me, please?"

"Of course! It's good that I went shopping these days and I have my stash of infusions full...," She laughs, a little too loudly. Tatsuhiko stares at her with half-closed eyes.

"Alright, and where is this boyfriend? Is he going to come down or do I have to go upstairs to get a good look at him?"

"Only if you want to meet him with his pants down. That'll surely establish some intimacy..."

"Ugh, no! Just...," He shrugs, sitting next to his wife on the biggest sofa. "Just call him downstairs, please. I want to get a good look at his face, say a few words, explain how things in the Uta family work...," He grunts, cracking his fists, and for the first time since they arrived, Tomori's smile is more genuine and decidedly more diabolical.

"Of course, it will be a pleasure…," And she exclaims to the top of the stairs. "Naoh, is everything okay up there? Do you think you can come down now?"

"Naoh...?," Tatsuhiko blinks. "She already gave him a pet name? My God..."

"Tatsu...," Saeko speaks in a warning tone.

“Oh yes, I can!,” he says from upstairs. Tatsu raises an eyebrow at the familiar voice. And he hears the sound of his footsteps coming down the stairs. "Sorry for taking so long."

And there he was, almost having to duck and turn sideways to get through the doorway, since he was so tall and wide. Saeko widens her eyes, more with his actual size than who he was.

He stops there, at the bottom of the stairs, scratching the back of his neck shyly while Tomori comes rushing from the kitchens, a little flustered.

"I- I already put the water in the kettle to boil! In the meantime...," She stops beside Okubo, playing with the laces on the bust of her dress, all flushed as she looks to the side. "Uuh... surprise?"

The couple on the couch doesn't respond. Saeko was still absorbing the enormity of the specimen before her. And Tatsuhiko had apparently forgotten his tongue's ability to form words. He opens and closes his mouth like a freshly caught fish, his eyes seeming to get huge behind the lenses of his glasses.

"Yeah… well…," Tomori holds her boyfriend's arm in a mixture of shyness and happiness. "I… I think you already know who he is, but it's still polite to introduce him… Tatsu, Saeko, this is-"

"WHAT IS OKUBO NAOYA DOING HERE IN YOUR HOUSE?!," Tatsuhiko screams, almost falling off the couch and making the other three jump in fright. "No- I mean- no, he's not Okubo Naoya! No, it's just someone very similar! Extremely similar! Almost a clone, basically! But it isn't him, it can't be...!"

"So… uuh…," Okubo looks at Tomori. "Do I have to show my documents to him? My birth certificate? My medical tests? My championship belt…?"

“Nah, just let it sink in. He's a bit slow, but he'll eventually get there," Tomori comments with a grimace as she watches her brother look at Okubo as if he were a ghost.

"Yes, that's the biggest look-alike I've ever seen in my life... dammit, you did it, Tomori! A real catch!," He laughs squeaky. "You almost got us there, huh! You have Dad’s weird sense of humor, let me tell you..."

"Tatsu," Tomori says in a bored tone. "You follow me on Instagram. You've seen the photos, haven't you?"

"Photos...? Oh, you mean the one where you ran into Okubo Naoya and some of his friends at the market? I did, and those comments were a horror show," He nods, crossing his arms. "But that doesn't mean anything... and neither does that other photo of you two sitting together at a table... and neither that other one of you with Murobuchi Gozo at the bakery...?"

Tomori arches an eyebrow. And after a second, Tatsuhiko looked ready to scream again.

"My… my God… all those pictures… you… him…," He stares at Okubo, his jaw dropping. "My… my sister's boyfriend is Ultimate Fight's heavyweight champion?!"

"I think it finally sank in," Saeko whispers theatrically to them, finding her husband's reaction very amusing. "But, I confess that I'm also shocked."

"Well, I’m the one who's a participant in all of this, so you can guess how I feel!," Tomori laughs, trying to ignore her brother having an existential crisis right there. "Naoh, these are Uta Tatsuhiko and Saeko, my brother and my sister-in-law. Relax, he will greet you, he just needs to recover from the shock first."

"I noticed. I think you better get a pen," Okubo says to Tomori. "Believe me, I've dealt with people like that. Anyway, nice to meet you," He bows politely, a little shy too. "Tomoh told me a lot about you too, so the excitement is kinda mutual, hahaha."

"Tomoh...," Tatsuhiko babbles. "Okubo Naoya calls my sister Tomoh... Saeko, I- I think we crashed the car and died on the way here..."

"Bite your tongue, Tatsu!," Tomori snorts. "Yes, he's Okubo Naoya, and no, you're not dreaming or delirious because of the anesthetics in the hospital or anything like that."

"Hahaha… Thank God it isn't the case, right?," he approaches and reaches his hand to Tatsu. "Well, again, nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Uta!"

Tatsuhiko stares at the hand being extended as if someone is offering him a trophy. Or a homemade bomb. It was hard to tell with that expression. Tomori laughs out loud.

"Come on, he's not going to grab your arm to submit you and apply an armbar."

"There- There isn't even enough space in your living room for that!," He swallows a little, accepting the greeting. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Okubo...?," And he shakes his hand, trying to put firmness in the gesture to convey confidence. At least that's what Okubo preferred to think, because if it was an attempt to hurt his hand, he was failing miserably. However, he just accepted the grip and made little effort, just to match, and shook it slightly.

"Yes, you can call me that," he smiles, lets go of his hand and looks at his girlfriend. "So, Tomoh, I think the water in the kettle is boiling…"

"Oh yes!," Tomori nods, running back to the kitchen. "You want sugar, right, Saeko?"

"Yes. And put it on Tatsu's tea too, he'll need it," Saeko smiles amusedly at her husband, who was staring at his own hand with wide eyes. Tomori laughs again.

"Yeah, I can see that... would you like some tea too, Naoh?"

"Yes, please. And I want sugar too."

"Okay, coming right away! In the meantime... uh... you can still talk, okay?," She looks at all three of them, still kind of shy. "That wasn’t exactly how I was planning to do the introductions, but well, now there's no use," She shrugs. "I can talk too, if you want to ask some questions."

"G-Good, because I really want to ask questions," Tatsuhiko says suddenly, stumbling over his words a bit. "Several questions, actually…"

"Tatsu..."

“It's nothing too personal, I swear. Just the typical curiosities and concerns of an older brother, a male figure that Tomoh takes as an example," He gestures with some hands, to which Tomori rolls her eyes, taking the kettle off the heat when it starts to whistle.

"Yeah, right. I never did that, and I sure don't do that now..."

"Tatsu...," Saeko looks at him in warning.

"Well, ask then…," “Enlighten me, oh noble masculine sage,” he completed in thought, smiling to hide it.

"Okay. I'll behave, love, I swear," He promises to Saeko before facing the other man, seriously. "First of all, how exactly did you meet Tomori?"

"I already told you how it happened," Tomori answers, a little impatient. "He showed up with his friends at the bakery..."

"But was that all?," He insists. "Was it pure coincidence? Didn't you see that pretty girl at the counter and thought you had the perfect excuse to try your luck?"

"Tatsu..."

"I'm asking because I used this tactic and it worked! I know how men think..."

“That includes you, right?,” Okubo thought, but he held back this time. Just this once.

"Yes, a friend of mine, who's also a friend of Miss Kanami, recommended the bakery and I went there with other friends of mine. When I arrived, she recognized me and asked for my autograph. Then I started talking to her and we got to know each other, and here I am."

"Hnnn…," Tatsuhiko looks him up and down. "And then what? Did you ask for her number, just like that?"

"No," Tomori answers first again, entering the room while carrying a tray with four cups and a teapot, which she placed on the coffee table. "I gave him my number."

"Wha- Tomori!,” He exclaims, widening his eyes, and she stares at him with a frown.

"What? I'm a modern woman, am I not?"

"But that's being too modern… oh, forget it," He waves a hand, accepting a cup. "Have you guys been going out since then? That's quite some time, it's been almost three months since you got that autograph..."

"Yeah, it's been a while," Okubo accepts the cup Tomori offered him, starting to feel slightly irritated. Apparently being intrusive ran in the family. He looked into Tomori's eyes, kind of devilish, and went back to Tatsu. "She… really isn't the type of woman who beats around the bush, and honestly I loved that about her. She's this little thing, but she's determined and knows what she wants. And I'm not stupid or anything...," he lets the sentence hang in the air, but still complete in thoughts:

“And she wanted my naked body, so it was a win-win situation.”

Apparently Tatsuhiko was a telepath, because he widened his eyes, insulted, as if he'd heard that thought.

"What?"

“He means that, just like with Saeko and you, he didn't act like he didn't understand when a pretty girl showed interest in him,” Tomori says quickly, after looking at Okubo sideways as well. "You can say that I'm being full of myself, but he hasn't stopped praising me since his second visit to the bakery, so I have no reason to doubt it..."

Okubo shrugged, smiling at her as he sipped his tea. “If you're a telepath, then read this thought, mate. I love your sister and I'm also fucking her, so deal with it."

"Praising your cooking, I hope," He arches an eyebrow, smiling almost as if snarling. "Her cookies are delicious after all…"

“Yeah, and so is your sister!”

“So far I haven't found anything she does for me that I don't like. I feel obliged to always reciprocate, since she's so good to me," Okubo wanted to laugh a lot at his girlfriend's brother's face.

"... Reciprocate her kindness, right? Yes, yes, I'm happy to hear that! At- At least Tomoh has found someone who is capable of giving as much as he receives... kindness! Yes, kindness...," He adds, almost dropping his cup of tea and holy shit, it would be worth joining that family just for the opportunity to have fun at the expense of that overprotective wacko!

Tomori looked like she was having a lot of fun too, her expression bordering on cruel.

"Oh yes, he reciprocates! Sometimes I get embarrassed, thinking he's doing too much for me, but he guarantees that he likes it and that he does it with pleasure. So in turn, I feel like giving myself completely..."

"Give yourself… emotionally, right?"

"Of course!," She nods, taking a long sip of tea and avoiding looking at either him or Saeko, who is staring sharply at the other couple. Tatsuhiko takes a deep breath.

"Okay… moving on then… is this thing serious or…? Don't look at me like that, Saeh, I need to know!," He flinches. "I worry a lot..."

"Well, we just got officially together a few days ago, so we didn't have time to discuss anything. But I assure you that Tomori deserves all my respect and consideration, Mr. Uta. Despite your worries, I think she would know how to give me a good scolding when necessary. She's tiny, but she knows how to hit exactly where it hurts.”

"… Yeah, she knows," Tatsuhiko concedes after a second of silence, relaxing his shoulders a little. "She got that from our mother. And she can swing a bat almost as well as I can..."

"Almost as well? I'm even better than you," Tomori sticks her tongue out at him. "I've always been able to hit harder."

"But you lack technique. You bat like you want to bust someone's head..."

"No more! Guess who's been helping me improve at batting," Tomori indicates Okubo with a nod, and Tatsuhiko's eyes widen again.

"Wait, really? Are you teaching her? I mean, I know you used to play as a hitter before you started your wrestling career, but..."

“But I still have muscle memory, and I've been following baseball forever. Not to mention I still know my old coach, so I guess that counts, right?"

"It does, but... it's still something very unusual to do on a date, don't you think?," He comments, arching an eyebrow, to which Saeko finally decides to speak.

"You took me to watch an interclass judo competition on our second date, Tatsu."

"It was an invitation from one of my college classmates, I wouldn't say no to that! Anyway...," He shakes his head. "Unusual, but still a nice idea. Baseball is one of our family traditions, along with martial arts and karaoke..."

"Yeah, and it's a good thing we have two of these things in common," Tomori nods, smiling satisfied. "And he did that without even knowing it! After that, there was no way I wouldn't fall for good..."

"Tomori, what are you saying…," He scolds her with a frown, embarrassed, when she rests the side of her head on Okubo's shoulder. "I won't tell you to stop only because this is your house."

"And because you can't boss me around."

"Hunf… her stubbornness is a pain, isn't it?," He comments with a snort.

"Apparently it runs in the family," Okubo lets out, not holding back. "When you want to, you two can be pretty nosy. Like when you steal food from my plate, haha."

"I don't steal! Just once in a while, when I decide I want more fries than what's on my plate…," She pouted, while Tatsuhiko blinked, a little indignant.

"Nosy? I just wanna protect my sister! The world is full of worthless men wanting to take advantage of nice girls like her, and I want to prevent that. Especially when some of these men already have a reputation for womanizing..."

"Tatsu!," Tomori exclaims, indignant, to which her brother shrugs.

"Am I lying? I'm just trying to make sure it's just rumors..."

"It's not just rumors," Okubo decided that being honest was the best route. "But in this case it's because I was single and some girls, not all of them, also wanted to take advantage of my status and fame to put themselves under the spotlight. I wasn't in a serious relationship with any of them. Not at the level Tomori and I are at, I mean. You see, Mr. Uta, she doesn't need me for anything, even when I want to do something for her, she kicks me in the ass because she wants to reciprocate. I have never, ever in my life, seen a girl get so embarrassed by Swiss chocolate," he looks at Tomori. "Hey babe, how about a Louis Vuitton purse?," when she turns red, he points at her with his whole hand, looking at Tatsu. "See? That's what I'm saying, ahahaha."

"Oh, you big...! Argh, I'm going to beat the crap outta you two!," She screeches, red and indignant, when Tatsuhiko chokes a little on his tea, putting a fist in his mouth, trying to hide a laugh with a coughing fit.

" *Cough* *cough*...! Pffft...! That's because you didn't see when Saeko and I gave her a gold necklace as a college graduation gift. She looked like she was about to have a stroke..."

"Saekoooo...!," Tomori whimpers, almost releasing smoke from his ears. "Tell him to shut up..."

"Hahaha, you really don't like expensive gifts, Tomori, that's a fact," she laughs. "But we like to spoil you a little, and you looked cute with that necklace."

"I know, and I swear I loved that necklace… ugh, it's because I'm not an architect like you or an MMA champion who earns a small fortune per match!," She puffs out her cheeks, refilling their cups. "I don't have money to spend on these things and I feel bad for not being able to repay them accordingly..."

"Tomori," Tatsuhiko's expression softens. "You baked and frosted all those cookies that we gave to our wedding guests as a treat, remember? Because we remember."

"She is like that," Okubo confirms. "They must've tasted great."

"They did. And she thinks 'it's not enough'," Tatsuhiko rolls his eyes, and Tomori flinches, embarrassed.

"Stop talking like I'm not here..."

"But it's true! Do you know what she made for me, the second day I visited the bakery with my friends?," Okubo pointed to her. "A whole batch of cookies with the face and colors of Kuidaore Taro!"

"Oh yeah, we saw it when they posted some photos on the bakery's Instagram account, right, love?," He turns to Saeko. "They were cool as hell! But we didn't know they were made for you."

"Yes, they were. I loved them," Okubo smiles. "And, well, yeah… there's no way not to be happy with a cute little thing like that," he pinches her cheeks.

"Knock it off, I'm still pissed at you...," She mutters, holding his wrists, trying to look annoyed and failing. Saeko chuckles, while Tatsuhiko watches the interactions with an expression of indecision.

“So…we've seen a lot of pictures of you together at the bakery since then. You were showing up there just because of her then? Wow..."

"You showed up at my parents' flower shop with those same intentions, Tatsu, in case you don't remember."

"Yeah, but I still bought flowers there!"

"He buys food at the bakery too. Him and friends do. They really like our food, so much so that they even offered to help when we were looking for a new site," Tomori says, playfully threatening to bite Okubo's fingers when he insists on pinching her cheeks.

"Of course, a nice place, good food and the owners are friends of ours, with the bakery changing we change places too! That's loyalty, right? But yes, the number one reason is her, I won't deny it...," he strokes her cheek.

Tomori can't resist and smiles, closing her eyes and touching his hand. Tatsuhiko is silent again, staring at them with half shrugged shoulders. He then moans softly and rubs his face with both hands.

"Ugh, this is still too surreal for me... one moment you're telling Mom to leave you alone about the husband thing, and the next you show up with a boyfriend. Okubo Naoya, on top of that..."

"Tatsu, I didn't plan this. It just happened," She shrugs. "I found someone I like and who likes me too, and in addition, I calm mom's nerves. I combined pleasure with business."

"Yeah, talk about 'pleasure'. Just wait until those two find out..."

"Wait, are you going to tell them?," She asks, a little startled, to which he stares at her with reproach.

"It's you who has to tell them, not me. Your boyfriend and you may think I'm nosy, but I don't get involved in those things. Do you want to be an adult in this situation? Start by being honest."

Okubo was silent, looking at Tomori. She looks back at him before sighing heavily.

"I'll tell them, I promise… it's not something to hide from, after all. It's just that the minute I tell her, Mom is going to demand that I take him to their house for dinner, and she won't stop pestering me until I give in."

"It was the same thing with us, right, Saeh? And you, Tomori, were making fun of me nonstop at the time, loving that I was making a fool of myself in front of my girlfriend," Tatsuhiko opens a vengeful smile. "It's your turn now, sis, so you better suck it up!"

"Uugh, shut up," She makes a face. "And I won’t force you if you think it’s too early for that, Naoh…"

"I don't really mind," Okubo says. "As long as I'm notified in advance... my coach can still call me, or my agent."

"Alright, I'll explain this to her and we can choose the most appropriate date,” She nods, returning to face her brother. "Are you less freaked out now? You can see that he likes me and he's taking it as seriously as I am, right?"

"Hunf… I'll only believe one hundred percent with time and coexistence," He crosses his arms. "But for now I'll keep to myself. Just so you'll be warned, Mr. Okubo, I'll keep an eye out. Our father too, when he finds out. Nobody hurts the family's baby and leaves it at that, not even Ultimate Fight’s Heavyweight Champion…”

"Aargh, stop talking about me like I'm still a kid-"

"My God, Ultimate Fight's heavyweight champion!," He suddenly screeches, grabbing the edge of the tea table. "I'm sitting in front of the King of Combat himself! Can you give me an autograph?"

"Uh... Shit, Saeko, how can you handle all this bipolarity?," Tomori groans, rubbing his eyes. "I've known him for as long as I can remember and it still makes me dizzy..."

"It's an acquired taste," Saeko jokes, laughing.

"I told you to prepare a pen, Tomoh," Okubo laughs. "I'll sign everything, man. It's a private session, so you better take it while you still can, ahahaha. And relax, you have nothing to worry about. She means a lot to me. I would never hurt her."

“Again,” he adds in thoughts. Tatsuhiko nods, satisfied, still kind of electric.

"Yeah, I hope so! Oh my gosh, I forgot my autograph book in the car! I'll go get it and I'll be right back!," And he gets up running. "Don't worry, I know how to open the gate from inside, Tomori!"

"I know, relax! Damn...," She sighs, taking another long sip of tea. "And yeah, he also carries a notebook like mine everywhere. You never know."

“You two are a lot more alike than you realize,” he laughs.

"Yeah, and I noticed that you were, to a certain extent, messing with Tatsu," Saeko says. "It was kinda fun to watch, but you went a bit too far…"

"Oh come on, he started it with these tricky questions, I was going to answer the same way, ahaha."

"Yeah! He laid up problems for himself," Tomori shrugs. Saeko shakes her head.

"I know, he really shouldn't stick his nose up your business. But your brother cares about you, Tomori. He might go overboard with being protective, but it comes from a place with good intentions. You know how much he loves you."

"I know, Saeko..."

"So why, instead of antagonizing him, don't you encourage your boyfriend and him to get to know each other better? He has plenty of things in common with this family," She suggests, finishing with her cup. "He will be able to accept your relationship much faster if he doesn't feel like he's being treated like a soap opera villain that wants to break the happy couple up."

"That wasn't my intention, and neither was Naoh's… but that's okay, we'll be careful with that," Tomori nods, a little embarrassed. "But he also needs to stop treating me like a naive teenager. I'm a grown woman..."

"Well, I think it would be a good idea to show that to him," Okubo smiles. "We can schedule a day so I can meet everyone."

"Yeah we can. Mom will insist on it when she finds out...," Tomori smiles tiredly. "Hey, dad's birthday is coming right up! Maybe we can do something with that?"

Okubo widens his eyes at that, a little surprised.

"Your- Your dad's birthday? But-"

It was at this time that Tatsuhiko returned, bringing an old and worn-out notebook.

"Here! You can sign on that sheet, I already got a pen. Hell, now all I'm missing is Sekibayashi Jun's autograph...," He vibrates as he hands over the notebook and pen to Okubo. "I need to show up at the Heavy Bakery more often! That turned into a point for fighters, as far as I know."

"The best of  the points! And here, Naoh," Tomori opens the cardboard bag that her brother and sister-in-law gave her, handing a cream puff to Okubo. "Straight from Kitakaro, Hokkaido. Tatsu always brings the best things from his and Saeko's trips..."

"Oh- oooh, that's nice!," He menages to smile, dispite still being surprised with her offer. "I love cream puffs! Thanks," He puts the package aside quickly. "But before eating, let me sign his notebook here."

"Alright! Isn't your sis the best?," Tomori arches an eyebrow at her older brother. "Getting the autograph of one of the most famous fighters of today for you, like magic..."

"Yeah, I can well imagine what kind of 'magic'… no, I don't want to!," He shivers all over. "Thanks, Tomoh, Mr. Okubo… damn, it's so weird to call you by your last name when you're dating my sister! If I let you call me Tatsuhiko, would you let me call you Naoya?," He asks, all excited. "Being able to call an MMA champion by his first name is something I’ll love to rub in my co-workers' face, hehehe…"

"Hahha… okay, I don't mind it either…," he blushes a little. "Or you can just call me Okubo, without the 'mr.' part. My friends call me that."

“Will I have to work harder for the other perk then? You're a tough one. But I think there's a reason for you to be able to keep your belt to this day, after all," He jokes. "But I want to see if you'll keep that strength when my mother calls you Naoya, haha. Man, I can't wait for that day..."

"Take it easy, Tatsuhiko, he's my boyfriend, not yours."

"Get lost, Tomori!"

"Hahaha…," Okubo hugs Tomori. "Sorry, man, but I'm committed."

“To your sister!,” something in himself laughed devilishly.

 * * *

"Thanks for the tea, Tomoh..."

"No problem! And thanks for the cream puffs," Tomori opens the door and the gate further on for Tatsuhiko and Saeko, who had finished putting on their shoes and were on their way out. "Will you be very busy in the next few months?"

"No, we'll go back to the regular schedule now that the conference period with partner companies is over," Tatsuhiko checks the time on his phone. "Why?"

"Because soon we will have the reopening of the Heavy Bakery at the new address! Show up there to give us a hand," She asks, smiling, holding Okubo's arm.

"Me and the guys will definitely be there," He smiles. "And many of our friends too," He winks at Tatsu.

"Oh- Ooooh yes!," He widens his eyes, which even shine behind the lenses of his glasses. "We will show up, for sure! I'll make sure of it!"

"Okay, if you wanted to know the right way to conquer Tatsu, here it is," Saeko laughs. "We will show up. And it was nice meeting you, Mr. Okubo."

"Yeah, likewise. Holy shit, everyone at the office will be green with envy…," Tatsu smiles sharply, to which Tomori rolls her eyes.

“If you go around spreading it from the rooftops, Mom and Dad will know about it before I can tell them. And then they'll be mad at me for finding out from other people's mouths..."

"Okay, okay, I'll just say that Saeko and I met him by chance then. It's not a lie, anyway," He shrugs. "Well, we'll be on our way. Behave, you two!," He points to the couple by the door.

“Have a safe drive,” Okubo waves, smiling.

"And no, we won't behave."

"Yeah, and send us a message to let us know if you arrived well!," Tomori nods. "See you another time, Tatsu, Saeko!"

"See you at mom's and dad's house, you mean! Oh, this is gonna be so good, hahaha...," Tatsuhiko laughed while he and Saeko got in the car. They wave, and soon they're starting the engine, the car pulling out onto the street. Tomori waits until she sees them round the corner before sighing heavily.

"Sorry about that, Naoh... but it was  better than I expected, considering everything."

"Yeah, it was, considering that at one point I was praying that he'd stop thinking you were a little girl dating some old fart in his fifhties. It was getting ridiculous, " He grumbles, to which she laughs with some embarrassment.

“He'd act like that if you were any age, even the same as me. Didn't you hear that talk about me being the 'family's baby'?," She makes quotation marks with her fingers, rolling her eyes. "He always has been overprotective and jealous. Good thing Saeko holds his reins tight."

"Yeah, bless that woman, otherwise I would have put him in a headlock, and that'd be a goodbye to my girlfriend's brother," he jokes as he turns to go back into the house. She laughs louder at that, following him and locking the door behind her.

“He would probably die happy. And I swear my parents are a lot more reasonable, if… if you agree to meet them,” She hesitates a little, looking at the floor.

"Well, it's part of the 'boyfriend' package, right?," he makes quotation marks with his fingers. "So yes, I agree to follow this bureaucracy."

"I know, but I didn’t want you to see it as a bureaucracy…," She walks past him, going to collect the tray with the teapot and teacups on the coffee table. "That’s why I said we could wait a little longer. It was supposed to be something you want too," She shakes her head. "Oh, how silly of me to worry about that, right? sorry about that..."

"I didn't mean 'bureaucracy' in a bad way. It's just that the whole process of getting to know your girlfriend's family members takes time and effort on my part, and on yours. Even more so if I want to gain their approval," He explains, moving forward to place his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. "I'm just imagining the whole thing, that's all. I'm happy that I've already been accepted by them, but even more so by you, Tomoh."

She looks over her shoulder at him, blinking a couple of times. And then she smiled more placidly, leaning her back against his chest.

"Hehe… you being accepted by them is almost guaranteed, considering who you are. But I want them to know you like I do and like what they see too... I'm no fame seeker, you know, but I have a right to want to show off my boyfriend a little bit, even if only to my social circle," She jokes.

"Oh, you know I like all that importance," he hugs her sideways. "Even more so when the person I care about most cares."

"I care, so much so that it scares me sometimes," She lays her head on his chest before walking away, taking the dirty dishes to the sink. "And I'm going to have a serious talk with Tatsu about showing up at my house without warning. He interrupted us right when things were getting good..."

"No problem, we'll start all over again," he reaches her and hugs her from behind as she puts the dishes in the sink.

"Heh, good to know that my nosy brother didn’t spoil the mood…"

“Nah, he just postponed it a little bit. If you still want too, I'll be right here to help you..."

"I never not want to when I'm with you," She assures, letting herself be embraced by him. And when she finishes washing the dishes, he doesn't waste time and lifts her in his arms, going to lean her on the counter again while she laughs.

It was good to know that the surprise visit from her clueless brother and sister-in-law hadn't temporarily killed his desire, because those things would probably happen again. And knowing that he wanted to be part of her life even with that little detail made her even more certain that she had made the right choice.

NEXT CHAPTER

[twinklelilstarkey]

Where is my girl, bro? - Qb!Rafe Cameron

Words: 2.1k+

Summary: Rafe is, finally, having the game that he anticipated for so long, but he can’t find you in the stands.

Warnings: Cursing? Female!Reader. Rafe being a sad boi for a few minutes. 

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Inspired by the iconic video “I can’t find my mama, bro” (but, of course, instead of mom, it’s his girlfriend)

One thing you absolutely hate but, for some reason, always happens to you is that whenever you really want or need to be somewhere at a certain time, something *always* happens and you end up being late. 

It could be for presentations, tests, and many other important things, and no matter what you do, it just happens. There’s no way to escape it.

Today is your boyfriend’s game. You never miss a game, ne-ver. And he has been telling you about it for way too long. Always saying how excited he is to play it, just so he can finally beat the guys that have been talking shit about his team nonstop for so long.

You did everything to get there in time. You left the college library early, went back to your apartment to take a shower and get ready. 

You did everything in time and still had at least twenty minutes to spear. So, with the time remaining, you calmly and slowly got onto your car and drove your way to the stadium with absolutely no worries. 

The time from your apartment to the stadium wasn’t all that much. Ten to fifteen minutes, max. Plus, the games are always a few minutes late. You were as relaxed as one can be.

But that’s when everything went to shit.

There was a car accident at one of the streets that connected to the stadium, so the road was closed. It wasn’t a big accident, just a tap that took one off the road slightly. No one was hurt, thankfully. But you had to do a whole different rout, where you were met with nothing but... traffic, of course.

Still, you didn’t stress. You still had time. Rafe didn’t have his phone on him anymore, so you couldn’t text him just to tell him know that you were on your way. But, still, you didn’t panic, yet.

It took you a good 15 minutes to get out of the traffic and get in the parking lot, to find almost no empty spots. 

But life’s still great, right?

You were able to park your car all the way in the back and as soon as you turned off the engine, your friends started blowing up your phone to say that the game has started.

You jumped out of the car, locked the doors and started running to the stadium. 

Midway through the ginormous parking lot, you remember that you left the lights of the car on. So, running back you went.

To say you were out of breath was an understatement.

You called your friends when you were able to get in the stadium (in as: ‘just walked through the door’) to see where they were seated, and you did that while walking at fast pace to the usual seats, slightly off to the left of the field, already expecting their answer.

And all you got as their answer was “our usual spot was occupied”, which made you stop walking and sigh to the ceiling, “we’re on the right, by the doors”.

And there you went again. Running like a mad woman, again, through empty hallways to the other side of the stands.

The game had been going on for a good few minutes now and Rafe was sitting on the bench, breathing a little heavy has he just left the field and his eyes study the stands.

“Where is my girl, bro?” He asks his teammate beside him.

His friend tries to help him find you, eyes scanning through the sea of college students and families, but soon enough he was called back in the game. 

Rafe’s telling himself many times that you are there and he just isn’t seeing you. 

You wouldn’t miss a game, right?

You pant as you make your way up to the stands. Your legs are starting to ache from the sudden running and jumping up stairs, and the urge to yell a ‘thank god’ when you spot your friends at the front seats and not all the way in the back is too intense for you to just not let out a whisper yell version of it.

“Finally!” Your friend says loudly over everyone’s loud excited voices.

You sit beside them, feeling exhausted, eyes already on the score board, scared to see that you missed any points, but you’re happy to see that you didn’t miss all that much.

You sip your drink excessively as you quench your thirst and your friend starts to update you on what you missed.

Rafe’s eyes go back to the stands as he makes his way back to the bench and he frowns at the fact that he can’t see you nowhere close to your usual spot. He looks through the sea of dark blue jerseys, trying to at least find his number on anyone and go on from there, but he just... can’t see you.

“Still can’t find her?” His other teammate asks.

“No, like... what the fuck?” He curses more to himself than anyone else, sad tone. “Where the fuck is she?”

He’s not cursing you, he’s cursing himself. Like what if he forgot to tell you that the game was today? He had stopped checking his phone long before the game started... what if something happen? Maybe he should’ve checked his phone earlier. 

Oh, god, where are you?

He lets himself fall back on the bench, eyes still on the stands, which almost made him trip over an helmet on the floor, but he didn’t seem to care all that much.

Your eyes stay on the field, watching the game continue as you try to cool down your warm body, nodding at your friend’s words and waving your arms around your face to seek some wind.

(...)

The game continues on, Rafe keeps on trying not to think too much about your absence on your usual seat, forcing himself to think that you have been there the whole game, and imagines you in previous games just to simulate some idea of your presence.

Everything is close to ending, his team is winning, as expected, yet he was still dragging his feet on the grass and letting his eyes stay on the ground as he walked back to the bench. 

He feels sad, this almost-win doesn’t even feel like a win. He never celebrated a home game win without you, and it’s weird to even think about it.

“Yo, Cameron!” His friend screams from a few feet away from him.

Rafe lifts his gaze from the ground, up to his friend. He has an outstretched arm, pointing at the opposite side of home team stands, the one’s he has been looking at for way too long.

Rafe’s heart speeds up for a bit as hope runs through his system and he stands up, almost running full speed to his teammate. He stands behind him to try and follow his pointed finger. His blue eyes scan the middle rows first and suddenly... he spots you.

You’re smiling at your friend, wearing his jersey, like always, shaking a cup on your hand and sipping the last drops of your drink at the bottom of the cup.

You are nowhere near where he thought you would be. Yeah, you’re on the front row but way off to the side, close to the doors that he had just walked through on the break.

How the hell didn’t he see you?

A wide smile spreads over his lips and his heart squeezes at the sight. He has never felt this much relief in his life. You’ve been here this whole time.

You’re not going to miss a home game win.

The last seconds of the game run out and the team starts celebrating as soon as the number zero hit the timer.

A heavy weight has been lifted off Rafe’s shoulders and he honestly didn’t even realize it was there until now. His smile is huge as he jumps around with his teammates while they chant whatever nonsense you always had trouble understanding a word of.

His helmet is on his hand, letting his hair flow away freely in the wind as his features twitch upwards in the happiness with the win of the game that has been on his mind for so long.

You smile from your spot on the stands, some people in the stands are just as loud as the team, jumping and dancing around. You can’t blame them, after so many weeks of both colleges fighting against one another on social media, yours can finally rub the win on their faces.

As the team separates to go to their girlfriends, boyfriends and family members, many people walk over to the railing of the stand.

Rafe walks towards you, smile as bright as ever, being highly contagious to you.

“Hi baby!” You squeal in excitement as he gets closer to you.

He answer back with a just as excited tone and cheesy nickname and comes closer to the stands. He climbs them a bit and you lean down to cup his face and give him the usual kiss after a game.

His cheeks are sweaty under your fingertips, but it’s not something you haven’t grown accustomed to.

When being able to pull away from the various pecks, Rafe helps you down the stands, almost against your will, and pulls you into a not so comfortable hug due to all the gear on him.

Yes, you, supposedly, can’t get on the field, but there’s too many people around you for anyone to notice, and other people are also doing it, so it will be impossible for someone to call you out specifically in the middle of such commotion. 

“I didn’t see you for most of the game.” Rafe tells you and you look up at him.

“I expected that. I got here late and supposedly our usual spot was taken.” You explain over the loud music.

“You were late?” He asks loudly, forced shock on his tone as he pulls a quite offended look on his face, “For my special game? How could you?”

You giggle at him and he breaks the fake expression so he can smile.

“There was traffic and the parking lot is completely full.” You explain.

“Excuses, excuses.” He says while waving his head from side to side comically, “You. little missy... for-got!”

He pokes your side with each word and you laugh at him again, loving his playful and excited mood.

“Did not do such a thing!” You say, playing along.

Rafe’s smile is wide and bright and god, you wish they could win everyday.

If it meant him stopping to worry so much about everything and just be this happy every day... Ugh, where do you sign? No matter what cost. You will sign that, god damn it.

As you’re about to pull away from your sweaty boyfriend, your friend stops you.

“Wait! Let me take picture!” She says.

You pass her your phone with the best of your ability and she takes it in her hands midair. You walk back to stand beside Rafe and wrap one of your arms around his waist, as his do the same, pulling you closer, completely against him.

Your friend takes as many pictures as she can of you two smiling, just for memories’ sake, but you, many family members and significant others, are interrupted by the usual voice saying a ‘please stay on the stands and do not step on the grass’ blah blah blah. 

“Thank you.” You thank your friend as she shows you the pictures from her place up the stands.

Rafe holds your waist close to him and, just like any other guy around him, he helps you up. But... Rafe is Rafe. He can only fight his urges to some extent.

As soon as your hands grab the top railing and you stand safely at the top, his hand lands a loud and hard smack on your ass.

God, you hate this man.

You send him a glare and the bastard sends you a cheeky toothy smile, so forced that even his eyes close with his cheeks. You shake your head in a chuckle and jump to the other side of the stands.

“Don’t take too long on the locker room!” You tell him over the loud music and he nods.

You’ll never forgive him for making you wait 2 hours for him to only say ‘Sorry, I had to enjoy the shower while we still had hot water’.

Never. You will take that with you to your grave.

“Sure thing, ma’am!” He says, playfully saluting you.

You smile down at him and take some steps back.

“Wait!” He says, hand on the air.

You walk back close to the railing and he smiles, climbing up the stands again.

“I deserve one more kiss, no?” He questions, standing right at eye level with you.

You bring his hair back, not letting it fall back on his eyes and cup his cheeks, giving him the kiss he so wanted and wasn’t able to get when you were standing beside him.

Rafe’s free hand holds you close to him by the back of your head, but you pull away quickly as soon as you feel his tongue touch your bottom lip.

“We are not doing all of that here.” You warn him.

He stares back at you.

“I’ll wait in the car.” You say, your lips hovering over his, pressing a last kiss on his lips.

He jumps back down to the grass and stares as you turn to grab your things from your seat. 

His last name is written across your back as well as his number. A dark blue jersey matching the one he is wearing right now.

Your friend stands beside you, so that the both of you can leave, and you give him a last look before he has to step away with his team and resume his celebrations while you go to the car.

He steps back from the stands, eyes on you and on his jersey. Rafe loves to see you wear it, it awakens some sort of possessiveness in him, but, god, he is dreading to take it off of you.

Is this good? Because I love the idea of qb!rafe, but I don’t know shit about American football, and wrote this on a free morning. Help.

If you guys enjoyed this, I’ll write a fic with qb!rafe and maybe some more imagines of him just being a jock...? Maybe?

[talkfantasytome]

A holiday Nessian prompt for you if you please: 'I work at the local library and I’m trying to put up all the decorations myself, but I fell off the ladder trying to hang up the garland and you caught me.' 🎄⛄💕💕

So sweet. 🥺🥺

I wasn't planning on doing this one today, but I started it while waiting at the vet and in between when he'd be in and out. Trying to be one of the cool kids that can bust out dribbles super fast...I am not one of those cool kids. 👀 But, when I got home I just had to finish it. XD At least now it gets a graphic, too.

Nesta's in the midst of decorating the library when one of the library's newest members comes in.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 1,007 | Nessian Masterlist

"He's here again."

"Who?" Nesta asked, not even bothering to look at Gwyn.

Gwyn huffed out a sigh. "That guy! You know, superhero tall and strong, gorgeous, totally in love with you."

She felt herself pause, a pit expanding in her gut as butterflies flapped around it. Cassian.

She was all too aware of Cassian. He came to the library a few weeks before to get out some specific book. Nesta checked him out that night, which took longer than normal because he had to sign up for the membership first so they could keep the record. At the end of the conversation she'd suggested he try and find a reason to use it. He told her he already had.

Sure enough, he was back every few days after that.

"He's not in love with me," Nesta argued, rolling her eyes and raising her chin to hide the nerves. "Hand me that garland?"

Nesta held out her hand, clasping it around the fine, prickly, fake pine needles once she felt them.

"You're so in denial. Half the time he doesn't even check out a book. He just pretends to browse and then chats you up for fifteen minutes."

She tried not to smile at the comment. Not that it was new information. Nesta hadn't missed that little fact, she just didn't want Gwyn to know she might like it.

"Maybe he doesn't know how to read." She draped some of the garland over the nail that was already set into the shelf. Years of librarians hanging garlands meant Nesta luckily didn't have to bother with any actual tools.

"You're hopeless. I swear, one da- shit, he's coming!"

Nesta looked down to see Gwyn bolting away. She shook her head and went back to her task, finding the next nail to drape more garland on.

"Getting the books into the holiday spirit?" a low voice mused.

Nesta didn't have to turn to know who was standing there. Not as her heart skipped a beat at the gruff timbre. She took in a deep breath, trying to calm the buzzing she felt beneath her skin.

After a moment, she faced him, putting on a soft, indifferent smile. "Don't they deserve to celebrate as much as we do?"

"I'm sure you'd say they deserve it more," he chuckled, the sound cascading across Nesta's body like a gentle wave.

"I wouldn't be wrong."

She finally let herself look, her eyes meeting his hazel stare instantly, like murky brown waters that draw you in with their mystery, only to trap you in them.

He smiled up at her, his face lightening with it. "Can I help you with the decorating?"

Nesta pursed her lips for a moment. "I could use a push to the left to get the last of this garland strung." His smile widened and he did as requested, pushing the rolling ladder over a bit until she was at an uncovered section of the book shelf.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?" he asked as Nesta worked to hang the string of pine and lights over the one of the last nails.

Her mind on the decorations, she mindlessly replied, "I don't think so."

"Great!" he exclaimed, as loudly as he could while still whispering. She was just reaching with her left hand to get to the last nail, pushing herself onto her toes when he added, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Her entire body froze and twitched in shock all at once, her balance lost on the slick ladder. Before she knew what was happening she was falling backwards, too far gone to grab on to the ladder and hold herself steady. Yet her feet were still touching the rung when she halted, a heat radiating off of whatever she was suddenly curled against.

Nesta looked up into those same eyes, gold flecks sparkling in the fairy lights from the garland. He held her gently, but with enough strength that Nesta knew she was safe in his arms.

"Are you always such an overachiever?" he teased, laughing at the joke in his head. "I wasn't going to ask you to fall for me until at least our second date."

Her breathing heavy, Nesta could barely find the words, her voice. "I didn't even say yes, yet."

His lips curved upward again, dimples appearing by the right corner. "That doesn't mean I'm not already hoping for a second."

He finally let her down, setting her feet on the ground but keeping and arm around her waist for support until she found her footing.

"And planning for one, it seems," Nesta shot back, her gaze never leaving his.

"And a third, and a fourth, and a fifth," he agreed, stepping her back until she was flush against the shelf.

Nesta inhaled sharply at the impact, at how his scent of embers and a winter's breeze enveloped her entirely as he braced a hand by her head. "My, you seem to have me booked for quite a few weeks."

He twitched his head to the left slightly, as if to say 'sort of'. "If you'll let me."

"I think we should just start with the one, and not get ahead of ourselves."

His stare twinkled with something Nesta couldn't quite read. "Way too late for that."

He leaned in slowly and Nesta felt her breath completely leave her body. She braced herself, something throbbing within her, ready for the kiss to come, even as she tried to look like she hadn't imagined it every night since that first time he came into the library. But his lips never found hers.

Instead, they rested by her ear, hot air blowing lightly against the ridge of it.

"I'll pick you up from here at seven," he whispered, his voice rough in a way that had Nesta quivering.

He left a single kiss on Nesta's neck, just beneath her ear, and then strode away. Leaving Nesta against the shelf, attempting to pick up whatever pieces of herself had been scattered about.

If you'd like to be added to my tag list, let me know! 🙂

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[subwaysurf45]

Back Into the Swing of Things

summary: Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war)

words:  3355

warning: legit none just fluff!

pairing: bucky x reader

Masterlist

You were sat at the little desk in your room, your music was blasting through your headphones as you nodded your head to the beat. It was paperwork day, the worst day. For some reason it was a busy time or missions which meant mission reports, you liked to just bang them out all at once for one day every couple of weeks. Some people did them right after but the little notes you take in your journal allow you to wait a bit and then do five at once. The plate that used to have a sandwich was now empty, Bucky brought it by because he knew it was your day and if he stayed around you it would most likely lead to Bucky trying to pull you into bed for snuggles. He’d claim you’d look too cozy to be doing work, you'd wear one of his shirts and maybe some pants.

With a sigh you lean back in your chair, a couple pops coming for your back. “Four outta five…” you muttered to yourself as you took the papers and stacked them on the other reports. As you reached for the final one there was a knock on the door, “come in, Bucky.” You called over your shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Bucky slipped through the doorway, he walked over and spun your chair around.

“Your knock is very polite,” was all you said. It was true, he’d knock loud enough to be heard but not too loud to seem demanding.

“Thanks…?” Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, “I wanted to ask you something,” Bucky looked to the floor.

“Talk to me,” You cheered and gave your full attention.

“I have a list of things in my notebook, just stuff I don't get- like understand. Would you mind helping and explaining some stuff?” His face was red and his eyes looked down, it was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

“Sure,” You shrugged and Bucky smiled. He got up and went to get the book.

Debit Card Machine 

Bucky was sitting across from you at a small diner, you went after rush hour to give yourself space and also Bucky doesn’t like crowded and loud spaces. Bucky had gotten a B.L.T. and you got something similar but you’d never been here before so you weren’t exactly sure what was in it- but it was good.

The waitress came by, the uniform was very retro like the rest of the place. It wasn’t way back to the 40’s more late 80’s early 90’s, Bucky had said he liked coming here because of the jukebox even though that was way past his time. He found it easier than an iphone, which was on his list of things to learn.

“Coffee or tea?” the lady asked.

“No, just the bill please,” You smiled at her, she nodded and walked away. Bucky got up and moved to sit beside you because he didn’t want to learn by looking at the thing upside down, the debit card itself was slightly conquered territory but he had the idea.

“And you said this was on your phone as well?” Bucky picked up the card and looked at it, his fingers running over the numbers that were lifted.

“You have to connect your card and all that to your phone so you just hover over the machine and it’ll pay.” You mimed the action of paying with your phone over nothing for Bucky to get the gist.

The machine showed up and you explained all the buttons, the waitress seemed confused because Bucky looked your age, she would have expected a guy to know how this works but she also kept her distance like most waitresses do.

“So you put your card in, the chip end goes in,” you showed. “Then you make sure the price matches the one on the receipt, if it does then you hit ‘ok’,” you did hit ‘ok’. “Then you have to tip, I personally go the percentage route so I’d click the far left button,” It made a sound when you did. “Now, depending on the service you can tip a different amount, I go fifteen percent as a baseline but she was really nice so I’ll tip twenty.” you typed it in, Bucky had a shocked face.

“Twenty dollars, that’s another meal!” He whispered, trying not to let the lady hear; she did.

“Twenty percent, our total goes from eighteen-tirty to twenty-forty five,” You showed the number again, then you clicked okay and proceeded to type in your four digit number. Bucky watched over your shoulder and tried to remember it all, when you were showing things at home he’d take notes and have a couple diagrams to remember it all but his notebook was no longer in sight. You glanced down after giving the machine back to see him rolling the book onto itself under the table, Bucky shoved it into his back pocket when you both got up to leave.

“Do you mind going over it again when we get home?” Bucky asked as he held your hand, the Avenger tower in sight.

“Of course,” you left a little kiss on his cheek.

Cooking Bacon

You didn’t remember reading this when you first went over the list. Granted, there was tons of stuff on Bucky’s list. It seemed he added it on later, like he watched Wanda cook and had a little idea to add. Either way, you both were in the kitchen in front of the stove. You both had aprons on, yours was a nice navy blue while Bucky’s read: ‘kiss the cook’. He wanted the navy one but then lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.

The pan was heating up on the stove, you had the lid ready beside it on the counter. Bucky seemed nervous because of the idea of the grease spitting out at him, he was starting to stand slightly behind you or away from the stove in an area he thought he wouldn’t get hit. “Alright,” you clapped your hands together after feeling over the pan to check the temperature. “We are gonna cook four pieces, so I’m gonna take them out of the package,” You were careful around the stove because Bucky seemed extremely nervous for you. He kept making little ‘peep’ing noises like he was about to say ‘watch out’ or something but decided against it, it was cute.

You put in two and then Bucky came over to put the others in, he was so leaned back he could barely get the bacon strips into the pan. On the last strip he haphazardly dropped it in, this caused the grease to spray back. A couple bits landed on your arm but a few more hit Bucky.

“Fuck!” He jumped back as you went to cover it quickly. The lid steamed up in seconds. Bucky was at the sink, washing his arm off. “Does it, like, burn through stuff?”  His tone was so concerned but you couldn't help but laugh at the question.

“No, you’re safe,” you nodded. Bucky came back over and stood right behind you, his chin nestled on your shoulder as you waited a bit. His arms circled around your torso and he also watched the pan, he didn’t know what to look for per se, but he did it anyways. “This should be good,” you stepped forward which caused Bucky to let go. “We’re gonna lift the lid and start to flip them, alright?” You grabbed the tongs and clicked them a few times, it was a thing you always did.

“Let’s go,” Bucky’s voice wanted to sound excited but he was slightly scared.

You lifted the lid and stood off to the side, quickly but calmly you flipped the pieces over and then covered the lid. “So, we give that time, then we'll take the lid off and just move them around and flip them more, you can do that,” You smiled over your shoulder to see Bucky writing something down. It was cute how much he cared about the little things, you’d never been taught how to cook bacon or cooking in general, it was something you just found yourself doing.

Bucky took the tongs and went for it, he lifted the lid and went straight into flipping them. After he found they weren’t spitting back he seemed to loosen up, his shoulders rolled back and he seemed to find a comfortable position. He was looking over to you for any tips but you stood there with a smile on your face, he was actually doing a good job.

You got out a plate and paper towel, Bucky transferred the strips over. He watched you pat them down with a paper towel, this was something you adopted into your life because you weren’t the biggest fan of all the grease.

“This is a big part, so listen up,” Bucky looked over from eating one of his two pieces. “Write this down, never and I mean never pour this grease down the sink- ever.” Bucky had the piece of meat sticking out of his mouth as he scribbled it down, he hummed and nodded to let you know he got it. “There is a can under the sink, grab it for me, please?” You picked up the pan but stayed over the stove, Bucky came back with an open can. There was nothing in it except congealed grease, he seemed grossed out but you were used to it. “Dump it in here after it’s cool but not solidified, just don’t pour it down the sink.” You poured the stuff in and left it on the counter to cool off, Bucky finally bit down on the piece of bacon before handing over your two pieces.

“I think that went well,” Bucky nodded, he leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. You didn’t have to heart to make fun of him for being scared of the grease, he seemed proud of himself. So you just stood beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, “good job, Buck.”

Skin Care

Bucky was the type of boyfriend to sit in the bathroom and just watch you put on or take off your makeup, he was truly put under a trance when he would watch you. In the beginning he’d ask questions or ask what you were doing and why, but now he had watched you so much he’d pass you the tube of mascara as you finished on your brows.

Your skin had adapted to a long and specific routine, this was your time for about ten minutes before bed to fully unwind and have some quiet. You would rotate products and skip over some of the serums each night but there were the basics you were going to teach Bucky: Wash, tone, moisturize.

Before you went to the drug store you asked Bucky about his skin, he really had no idea what you were talking about and half the time he’d shrug it off. “I don’t pay attention to my skin,” was a common phrase. You lightly touched his face and felt his T-zone, he joked that sometimes if he opened his mouth really wide his skin would feel super tight and dry.

“So then you have dry skin,” you said. Thinking of the products to get him, Bucky didn’t have acne, it was more for cleaning the skin and keeping it healthy.

“I think,” Bucky really felt like a pain. He was trying to help you out so you could find good products but all he was giving was half answers, ‘ya, I guess’ or ‘I think so’.

But currently you both were standing in the bathroom, it was right before bed and Bucky adjusted his headband for about the hundredth time. He said it was too tight but you knew he was being a baby about it, his hair was also pulled back into a bun.

“We are gonna wash our face,” You showed how warm the water should be before splashing your face. Bucky copied right after, and awkwardly leaned forward to make sure water didn’t drip on the floor after while he waited for you to move on. “Now we are gonna wash our face, so take that bottle with the blue cap and put a bit in your hand. A little goes a long way,” You added and did the same, both faces in the bathroom were sudsy and ready. Bucky went in first to wash it off, his hands cupping under the tap and collecting as much water as he could before leaning right in to wash off his face. He did it twice.

“Pat dry?” He remembered you saying that before. His hands held the fresh towel, you hummed in response because your face was in water. Bucky patted and gently rubbed around, when you stood up you dried off as well. Both faces were damp, Bucky looked at the little water droplets running down your neck before turning back to the task at hand. “Toner- don't tell me, I know this one!” He grabbed your arm, “red cap?” His face lit up with joy as you nodded, “I got this!” He cockily laughed, he knew what he was doing.

Bucky took the little cotton round and drizzled some of the toner around on it, he passed one over to you before making one for himself. Bucky leaned in and got super close to the mirror, he watched intently as you rubbed your face. He copied, it was like the cotton pad was barely touching his face. The last thing he cleaned was his nose before pulling the cotton away, he scanned over the pad and saw the gross residue.

“Ew, that was on my face?” Bucky was enchanted by the pad, holding it super close to see the leftover dirt. You had already thrown away the pad, it made you giggle to see Bucky so hypnotized by literal oil and dirt.

“Moisturizer, final step for you,” You sang. “I like to pick it up with my knuckle, like this,” You unscrewed the lid and tapped your pointer finger knuckle to the opaque, soft cream. Bucky took his new one and did the same. He wiped it into the palm of the opposite hand, “rub it around, heat it up before putting it on,” He did just that. “You’re a pro, Buck!” You giggled as Bucky meticulously put it on. He was applying it upwards and spreading it evenly around, his fingers gently dancing across his face as the cream worked its way in.

“How do I look?” He turned to you.

“Like you’re glowing.”

“I feel like it,” Bucky laughed and looked back at the mirror. He tilted his head around to see how his skin would look under the light in the bathroom, he seemed to forget you were there and was completely in awe of what he did. Bucky brought his fingers to his face to feel around, the moisturizer had set and now his skin looked full and plump. The pads of his fingers gently tapped his cheeks and made the shimmer on his cheekbones move and twinkle.

“Alright, that’s enough admiring yourself,” you laughed and pushed him out of the way. Bucky stayed to watch you finish up your routine.

Record Player

As a way to say thanks for helping Bucky with over fifty niche things, Bucky decided to teach you how to properly use a record player.

This wasn’t any old player, this was Bucky’s player. No one was allowed to touch it without permission and even though you have never gotten the green light, you asked almost every week. This was one of the only things Bucky could really hold onto, when he touched the dark, stained wood he could almost see himself back in the 40’s; almost.

He once got really mad at the beginning of your friendship, you really didn’t know it was his, you just thought it was a talking piece. Bucky ended up yelling at you, he had just changed the needle and you were running your finger on it to see how small it was. Steve had ran in because Bucky was yelling- it was a whole ordeal that ended with Bucky not talking to you for three months.

But now there was trust and Bucky liked that after that little fiasco you didn’t even think to touch it, he could really trust you and now was a great time to show off his favourite thing. Bucky was all giddy to show his record player off to you, you were grabbing some water before he started and you noticed Bucky was using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe off a smudge before going back to inspect it.

“Alright, let’s start!” Bucky smiled. This man didn’t start with the parts and what they do, he started with the history of it all. Bucky pulled all the facts he knew about record players in general and the vintage one that was sitting in front of the both of you, his eyes seemed to light up with each new fact that popped into his mind. Part of you wanted to check your watch but you also had never seen this man get passionate over an object before, he could get passionate over people- you, Steve, Sam, etc. -but never over this. “Are you ready to play music?” He reached over into his bin and pulled a record you’ve never seen.

“Which one’s that?” You asked as Bucky pulled it out of it’s sleeve.

“It’s just a random one I picked up a week ago for this,” Bucky held the record the proper way. “Thumb on the center and index on the edge, don’t touch the actual grooves because the oils in your hands can clog them up,” Bucky moved his hand around to show you.

“Sorry, what do you mean you bought that record for this? And why does the needle look different?” you noticed the needle looked extremely worn, it looked great and new a couple days ago.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky dismissed it. “So now we are gonna place the record softly,” Bucky placed it down and turned back to you. He talked about the arm and the needle before showing you how to put it on manually and then with the little leaver, after showing them each way twice he stepped back and offered you a turn.

“Seems easy,” you mumbled and took the arm, you were doing it manually first. The movements were extremely soft and slow, when the needle made contact it took half a second before a really grainy sound came through the speakers. It sounded wrong but Bucky nodded, he applauded you for taking the needle off as well. Then you did it with the leaver, right when it was about to touch you thought it looked off so you nudged it a bit- bad idea. The needle didn’t even hit the record and part of the arm scratched the recessed vinyl. “Shit!” You yelled and ripped it off. Causing the record to scratch, the sound and the record itself, there was a shine to the edge. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mess it all up- I really didn’t mean to break it- god, you must so ma- I’m sorry-” as you fumbled over yourself Bucky just started to laugh. “What?” you were about to cry because of the guilt.

“That was a sixties record and a needle that is five years old, you didn't do anything. I bought it because I knew this was bound to happen.” Bucky only laughed at your exasperated sigh, you fell into his hug like a child. “Poor baby,” he mockingly cooed, he found it so funny how you were screaming apologies at him even though it was painfully obvious it was a shit record and needle.

“That was scary, I think I need a nap after that…” you sighed.

Bucky threw you over his shoulder, “thinking the same thing, doll.