#*arrives ten minutes late with starbucks*

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

HAPPY 81ST BIRTHDAY, PAUL MCCARTNEY

"Before I write a song, there’s a black hole and then I get my guitar or piano and fill it in. The notion that there is a gap to fill is no less honourable a basis for an inspiration than a bolt of lightning coming down out of the sky. One way or another, it’s a miracle. I sit down and there’s a blackness. There’s nothing in this hole. Maybe I start conjuring and at the end of three hours I have a rabbit to pull out of what had looked like a hole but was actually a top hat. Or, at the end of the session there’s not a black hole any more but a coloured landscape."

[antoine-triplett]

HAPPY DECADE OF AOS!

[lemoncrushh]

Out of Bounds - Chapter 16

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 2676

Despite getting up early, Harry and I were late arriving to History class. I'd made the mistake of mentioning a chai latte I was craving, so Harry insisted on stopping at Starbucks on the way. Unfortunately, the line was very long and very slow.

Professor Jacobson eyed us over the top of his spectacles when we walked in, sheepishly taking our seats. He continued his lecture without a word to us as we opened our laptops. After class Harry and I separated, but instead of making my usual trip to the snack bar since I'd just finished my chai latte, I made why way toward the library again.

"Hey, Tisa," I heard from a familiar voice. I turned to see Zack waving at me.

"Hi, Zack," I greeted warmly, giving him a quick hug.

"Everything alright?" he asked. I knew he was referring to the last time we'd seen each other.

"Great," I nodded.

"I'm glad," smiled Zack. "Listen, I know it's none of my business, but for what it's worth, I think you and Harry belong together. I've never seen him as happy as he is when he's with you or talking about you. I really hope things work out for you two."

"Thank you, Zack," I said, my hand over my heart. "That really means a lot to me."

"You're welcome. And hey, we need to get together sometime. Penny adores you; she told me."

I grinned. "I adore her too."

"We'll go see her band or just hang out or something, it'll be fun."

"Okay, yeah, sounds great!" I exclaimed.

"Alright then, talk to you later, Tisa."

I waved goodbye and walked up the steps to the library, feeling happy and excited. The feeling was short-lived however, when I unpacked my belongings and realized I had a voicemail from James.

"Hi, baby, it's me," he said. "I'm headed back a little earlier than I'd anticipated. I'm trying to get a flight back tonight, but everything seems booked up. But if I can get something, I'll be home tonight, otherwise first thing in the morning. I'll call you later and let you know."

Damn. Harry didn't have to work tonight, and I had been looking forward to spending the evening with him. I guess all I could do now was wait for James's next call to know for sure.

I opened my computer, but instead of working on the Sociology report like I'd originally planned, I began typing a letter to James. I had no idea if I would ever give it to him. In a way, it was a letter to myself. I expressed all of my feelings, wants, desires. I never once mentioned Harry, or even implied I was having an affair. Because although ultimately I wanted to be with Harry, it wasn't really about him.

I typed and typed, spilling my guts until tears were streaming down my face. I told him how I cared about him, but was no longer in love with him, if I ever was in love. I told him how I didn't like being treated like a child, and how I felt like one sometimes in our home. I told him how it bothered me that we slept in separate rooms and never had sex. I told him I wanted out, and that I planned to leave.

Looking at the clock in the corner of the screen, I realized I had ten minutes to get to English. I quickly closed my laptop and shoved it in my backpack. I jogged to the English building, arriving just in time. Wiping my eyes, I walked in and took my seat. I tried hard to pay attention to Professor Lloyd, but my mind inevitably wandered. I wanted to talk to Harry. And I knew I needed to talk to James. The hour ticked by slowly, but I also still had another hour to wait for Harry.

This time I did walk to the snack bar to grab a bottle of water. Then I sat in the corner pretending to read. I kept checking my phone for any new messages from James, but there came none. Instead, I decided to text Justine. I knew she'd be at work, but she had texted me on Monday and I'd never gotten back to her. I tried to sound chipper.

T: Hey! Sorry I didn't text or call. Been busy. Party was great. Tell me about your date!

I went back to reading my book, not expecting her to reply right away. But a few minutes later she did.

J: Hey girl! Glad the party went well. You'll have to tell me all about it when we can chat. At work now. Date was fantastic!!! Again, I'll tell you more later! ;)

I set my phone down, concluding that I would call her later, and picked up my book again. Deep into the story, the sudden vibration of a text alert startled me. I looked at my phone expecting a text from either Justine or James, but it was Harry.

H: Where are you?

T: Snack bar

H: ok

A few minutes later, he walked in. Just seeing his face never ceased to give me chills or make my heart flutter. I watched him as another guy greeted him and he stopped for a second to chat.

I heard a girl at the table in front of mine mutter, "Damn, hottie alert."

She poked her friend whose eyes followed him as he came towards me. I smiled and pushed out the chair next to mine so he could sit down.

"Hi, love," he said, leaning over to kiss me. I could feel the girls' glares and admittedly it made me proud.

"Did you get out of class early?" I asked.

"Yeah, teacher had to go to a meeting or something."

"Good, then we can go."

I grabbed my things and followed Harry out to the parking lot. Once in the car, I told him about James coming home.

"Then I should probably go on home too," he declared.

"Why? I haven't heard from him yet. He's supposed to let me know if he's gotten a flight for tonight or tomorrow."

"But what if he gets a flight at the last minute and doesn't call?"

Exasperated, I made a compromise. "I have an idea. Why don't I just come to your place? If he calls and says he's coming today, then I'll just go home."

"Yeah?"

"I'm determined to be with you, Harry."

He reached over and grabbed my hand, knowing I didn't just mean today.

Four hours later, I still hadn't heard from James. Harry and I sat on the couch watching Dazed and Confused, my legs sprawled out across his. Joey and Zack had been there earlier playing Xbox, shouting at the TV screen while Harry and I ate lunch at the table. Then Zack had to start getting ready for work, and Joey got the hint and left.

Harry absent-mindedly began picking at the hole in the knee of my jeans. I watched his face glued to the television, though I knew his mind was on something else other than Ben Affleck being a dickhead.

"I love you," I whispered.

He turned his head swiftly and grinned. "I love you, too."

Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me tenderly. I scooted my body closer to him, so that my rear was barely touching his hip, my legs still across his lap. I put my arms around his waist and kissed him some more until I heard a faint sound behind me.

"Have a good night, mate," Harry said above my head.

I turned slightly to see Zack with his keys in his hand.

"Take care, you two," he said with a wink before shutting the door behind him.

"Alone at last," I exhaled.

I sat up and straddled Harry, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his face to his neck. He moved his hands down my back, cupping my butt cheeks. I had just finished unbuttoning his shirt and was about to kiss his chest when I heard my phone vibrate on the coffee table.

"Now?" I exclaimed. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I reached behind me to retrieve my cell which indeed displayed James's name. It was a short text that said to call him.

"Sorry," I whispered to Harry. He just shrugged.

I climbed off of him and walked into the bedroom to call James.

"Hi, baby, sorry I didn't call, but I'm at the airport now. I got an earlier flight."

"What? You're here?" I felt like I would throw up.

"Yeah, Ginger couldn't get me a later flight so I took an earlier one. I should be home soon."

"Oh," I said, hoping he couldn't hear the cry in my voice. "Okay."

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too." I could taste the bile in my throat.

I hung up and slowly walked back into the living room. Harry looked up to see my distraught face. Without a word, he stood and took me into his arms. I cried into his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, my shoulders shaking.

"I don't want this anymore, Harry," I mumbled.

"Shhh," he soothed, rubbing my back. "It's gonna be okay."

"I have to go."

I grabbed my purse and keys and Harry walked me out to my car which I'd taken separately after we'd gotten home from school. He kissed me as I leaned against it.

"I wish we could have spent more time together," I said.

"We will," he assured me. "And it's alright. I love every moment I can get with you."

"You're so wonderful," I sighed.

He kissed me once more before I got in the car. I tried my best not to cry on the way home. I knew there were things I needed to tell James. Perhaps it wouldn't be tonight, perhaps it would. I was nervous, but I felt like I needed to play it by ear. I knew Harry and I would be together, no matter what.

"I'm home!" I heard James call from the kitchen.

Normally, I would greet him at the door with kisses and I love yous when he came home from business trips. This time it just wasn't in me. I'd come back from Harry's and thrown on some flannel pajamas, not the little shorts that Harry thought were sexy, and was on my computer, checking my emails.

"Hi," I said when I walked into the kitchen. James was sorting through the mail I had left on the counter.

"What's this?" he asked when he noticed my attire. "I thought maybe we could go out to dinner."

"Oh," I mouthed. "I'm not really up for going out."

"Are you sick?"

I shrugged. "Not really. Just tired. It's been a long day."

"It's not even six yet," he countered.

"I know...I..."

James rolled his eyes at me and leaned against the counter. "I just got home, baby. I got home early because I wanted to spend time with you before I have to get up and go to work again. Can't you just put on some clothes so we can go eat?"

Feeling guilty I nodded and walked back to my room to change. When we got in the car, I asked James where he wanted to go.

"How about Mikado's?" he suggested.

My eyes about popped out of my head. "What?"

"I go there sometimes for lunch with clients and colleagues, but I realized I never take you. You'd like it. They gave great nachos."

"Um...okay..." I swallowed hard and bit my lip.

I looked out the window for the entire ride, my stomach in knots. Of course I knew Harry wasn't working, but the idea of going to Mikado's with James was harrowing.

Because it was only a Wednesday, the restaurant wasn't crowded, and we got seated right away. My heart just about beat out of my chest when our waiter came to greet us.

"Hi!" Zack said a little too emphatically before he realized the situation.

Making it a little easier on him, I smiled. "Hi, Zack."

James looked from me to Zack and back to me. "You know each other from school?"

"Uh...yeah," muttered Zack.

"Actually," I explained, "he's Harry's roommate."

"Ah the infamous Harry," James mused. "Does he work here too? I'd like to meet him."

I clinched my teeth, eyeing Zack.

"Yeah, but he's off tonight."

"Oh, well, next time then."

Zack saved us from more distress by taking our drink orders. When he left the table, I could feel the heat rising to my face, but I didn't want James to suspect anything.

"So tell me about your trip," I said.

James put his elbows on the table and sighed. "Not much to tell, really. Meetings with clients. Meetings with the boss."

"Well, I guess it was successful," I noted.

"What do you mean?"

"You came back early. Doesn't that mean you got done what you went out there to do?"

Zack returned then with our drinks and took our food order.

"Tisa, this is an ongoing process," James continued when he left. "One trip doesn't set everything in stone."

"Oh."

"Besides, I wanted to come home and see my wife."

"Oh." I didn't really appreciate his condescending tone.

"But you act like you didn't miss me at all."

He furrowed his brows and looked very angry. Not necessarily hurt, more like pissed off.

"I'm sorry, James," I insisted. "I didn't mean —"

"I don't know what's going on with you lately, but I don't like it."

"Really," I said, taken aback.

"Yeah you hardly kiss me anymore, if I kiss you it's like you're doing me a favor. I called you and you didn't sound excited to hear from me..."

"I'm sorry," I lied. "I hadn't realized."

"Ugh, it's okay, Tisa," he waved me off. "I guess I was just disappointed that you were in your pajamas when I got home instead of at the door, ready to hug me."

"I'm sorry," I said for the third time.

We sat in silence except for James softly humming to the music playing overhead. I sipped my water, looking around the room at the art and decor. Finally, Zack brought us our meals, giving us a valid excuse not to talk. As he laid my plate down in front of me, I gave him a look, hoping he would interpret it as a combination of I'm so sorry and help.

James and I made it through dinner, and on the ride home he finally asked me about school. I told him it was going well and that so far, I was making all A's. He said that made him happy.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" he asked when we arrived home.

"No," I shook my head. "I have some homework and then I'm going to bed. I really am tired."

"Oh, okay," he sighed, defeated.

I went to my room and shut the door. I changed back into my pajamas and texted Harry.

T: I'm so sorry. James took me to Mikado's for dinner. Zack was our waiter. I was so embarrassed.

H: Why are you sorry?

T: Because it was humiliating. I felt bad for Zack.

H: Don't. Are you ok?

T: Not really. It's just becoming more and more apparent that I need out of this marriage.

H: Do you need to talk? Can you call me?

T: Not right now. I'll probably be going to bed soon, so I'll see you in the morning.

H: Ok. I love you.

T: I love you too.

I placed my phone on my nightstand and pulled down the covers on my bed. Then I opened my laptop and read over the letter I had typed for James earlier. I was considering giving it to him. But not tonight. It would only start a fight, and I was too tired. One more day wouldn't hurt.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[bthump]

If Griffith hadn't raped Casca, how would he have been reborn? Interesting to hear your theories.

I mean if we're working strictly within established worldbuilding, for the sake of a fanfic AU or something, iirc there's no given metaphysical reason the fetus was required to create NeoGriffith. Maybe he could've just hatched from behelit!apostle and been free from werebaby transformations if the fetus hadn't been around for behelit!apostle to eat. Like it's kind of an accident NGriff ended up fused with it. Or if NGriff needs some kind of raw material to form out of, maybe behelit!apostle would've eaten some other piece of flesh that would've grown into NeoGriffith with fewer annoying complications.

Technically, again working strictly within the story's worldbuilding, Casca and Guts both had to survive the Eclipse to resurrect NGriff, so without the prolonged rape scene something else would have to delay their deaths long enough for Skull Knight to rescue them. But maybe Femto is more talkative like in the Black Swordsman arc and taunts them first. Or maybe Skull Knight doesn't arrive ten minutes late with starbucks and Femto doesn't have time to rape Casca.

Or, more relevant to my own ways of engaging with media, if Miura didn't write the Eclipse rape he would've written Berserk differently afterwards to compensate for it. Casca could've gotten a badass death during the Eclipse and then NGriff's resurrection would simply happen differently.

[greyias]

On @thievinghippo's recommendation for a Stardew Valley-like game with more plot, I picked up "My Time at Portia" like... months ago. Put off playing it for a while, launched it once and enjoyed it... then I made the mistake of deciding to launch it this weekend because "the ruin diving is fun and relaxing"

Several lost nights of sleep later, and a long weekend/vaction days I had planned on using to write... I'm in deep. I've been regaling @grumpyhedgehog with the tales of how between awkward timing on my part, randomized in-game events how one NPC who is probably supposed to be dashing and competent is coming off as the biggest damn dork and it's incredibly hilarious and endearing.

Poor Arlo here keeps trying to be this suave and competent savior, promising to save my builder from conmen trying to shake her down, and track down thieves, to arrive to every situation fifteen minutes late with Starbucks as my character is dusting her hands off, having already handled everything. And then he gets frustrated and starts telling me how he's supposed to be the one beating people up and saving the town. Which of course means he brings her along on a stakeout, I guess so he can keep an eye on her since she's getting into trouble anyway?

A Running List of Possibly Accidental In-Game Arlo Shenanigans:

He was the only person to remember my character's birthday -- including ME. I was so intent on fixing the town's water supply I forgot until he comes sneaking by at 7am to drop a gift off without even waving hello

The gift has battle stats -- so I put it on, and ironically get stuck in the hardest little dungeon crawl of the game with no healing items brought along (because I had no clue), and only his gift (and another NPC) to keep me alive

I finally get through the plot and stagger out to him and he's like "Oh hey thanks for fixing the water problem" and proceeded to pretend like he hadn't snuck a gift on my doorstep before the ass crack of dawn

He wanted me to make him a bag, with a time sensitive delivery that if I missed, I'd lose relationship points and reputation. So I rush to finish it. Then the game decides to lock him in eternal battle day and night, because of plot, and he refuses to talk to me to take his gd bag that I worked really hard on, and just shouts at me to go get supplies to fix the hole because enemies keep spawning every five seconds.

So I have to work day and night to get the items to fix the plot thing, so he doesn't hate me because he WON'T TAKE HIS BAG THAT I'M WAVING MADLY AT HIS FACE and then once the plot is advanced he's like "Oh hey thanks bag looks great, sure we can go on a platonic buddy date" and walks off

Shows up five hours early during a festival at the platonic buddy date spot to ask me to make him a training dummy, runs off

Comes back for the platonic buddy date, happily takes the spicy spaghetti I learned how to make just for him because he wouldn't stop talking about how much he wanted spicy spaghetti. Then he's like "I have stuff to do" five minutes into our buddy date and just leaves

I get fed up and challenge him to combat in the street. Despite being several levels lower than him, somehow manage to kick his ass in front of the entire town

This apparently is an extremely attractive thing to do. He shows up on my doorstep at 7am the next morning to ask ME on a platonic buddy date. I guess we'll see if this lasts a whole ten minutes this time.

Anyway, this game is now sucking up every last braincell, in the exact same way Stardew Valley did until I got my fill. So I guess this is just what I'm doing until something distracts me (probably the swtor 7.3 update, whenever that happens, because that usually derails my brain for a solid week)

[maddieonthemovee]

May 19 - Tokyo to Kyoto

Today was fully dedicated to traveling from Tokyo to Kyoto. We left for the Shinkansen at 9:00 AM and got to Tokyo Station. I had my backpack and small carryon suitcase with me, so getting on the trains was a little more difficult than usual. Thankfully, we didn’t get onto a super crowded train. At the station, we had some time to grab something to eat or drink before boarding the Shinkansen, so my friends and I got Starbucks. I got an iced white mocha and a small pound cake-like dessert. We waited a little for the Shinkansen to arrive, and I was surprised at how long it was. I was also surprised by the interior; it looked like an airplane! The ride to Kyoto took about three hours, and once we arrived, we had an hour and a half to get a late lunch before going to check in at our hotel. My friends and I originally wanted to get breakfast food, but the line seemed long, so we opted for Italian instead. I had a margarita pizza which was super thin, but yummy, and just filling enough. We took another train and then walked for ten minutes or so before reaching the hotel. We made a quick stop at our new class meeting spot which unfortunately isn’t in the hotel this time.

My roommate and I checked into our room and just relaxed for a couple of hours; we both napped a little, and I called my mom and dad to check in. My friends and I met up with our tour guide from the Tokyo leg of our trip and went to a pharmacy because a couple of my friends needed medicine. I bought some toiletries and a small eye glitter to try. Next, we went to eat at another Italian restaurant for a late dinner. I got a Quattro Formaggi pasta dish, which I’ve never had before, and a chocolate cake that had more of a brownie-like texture. The pasta was amazing and was a nice break from all of the ramen and rice I have been eating for the past couple of weeks. We went to Family Mart to get some water, and I also got tape for my travel journal that I need to catch up on. I’m looking forward to getting familiar with a new city and to all of the matcha I will be getting here in Kyoto!!

Academic Reflection:

I learned through the reading for today as well as today’s class discussion that the Shinkansen had negative impacts on certain towns. As the Shinkansen was constructed to funnel more people into cities like Tokyo and help them grow, it led people to move away from the smaller towns that the Shinkansen passes through and to the larger cities like Tokyo: considering “population change between 1975 and 1995, those cities with a Shinkansen station saw an average increase of about 32%” (Hood, 215). I think that it’s very interesting how this aspect of the bullet train is often overshadowed by the fame, innovation, and technological prowess of this invention. I also learned from one of my friends here that the Shinkansen uses more electricity to accelerate than an American uses in an entire year which was shocking.

I found the reading compelling in how it highlights the social impacts of the Shinkansen, both present and future. I learned how it can impact families, as more and more people are beginning to live independently in cities far from their relatives in smaller towns. Because of this, more elderly people can see a decline in their quality of life as they require more assistance with daily activities while having less social interaction with other people. Families who live far from relatives are also likely to face their own hardship with balancing parental responsibilities with their professional and social lives, without the ability to rely on their parents or relatives for help with things like watching their children, keeping the house clean, etc.

[dollprince]

Victoria had the worst glue head I’ve ever seen with a doll, so she’s been living in the Box of Shame for years. But I had this goo remover to remove flocking from my Sylvanian Families, and wanted to try that before completely giving up on this doll? 

It seems to have dissolved the glue pretty well & now she has soft floofy hair that smells like oranges!!! Now I just have to sell my soul to find a body pale enough to match her ;;

[megamindsupremacy]

I need a dpxdc Crossover scenario where, somehow, Danny Fenton and Billy Batson end up at the same school. Maybe Danny is a year older but he got held back in a subject, so they’re both in the same bio class. Danny as a Sophomore and Billy as a Freshman. They’re lab partners and they hang out during school, and neither of them have any clue the other is a superhero. Danny is so used to everyone having Kinda Weird vibes from Amity that Billy doesn't ping anything and Billy has the same thing where everyone is Fawcett is a little Off, nothing particularly different about this guy.

Later on, both of them have joined the league as Shazam and Phantom and they still have literally no clue the other is a superhero. Billy doesn't recognize Danny as Phantom because of the altered features and Extremely Weird Vibes and obviously Danny doesn't think to compare the adult man Shazam with his fourteen-year-old buddy Billy. They both think the other is a semi-immortal being and they are both desperately making shit up about past events and praying they got it right. They both are continuously amazed that they're so good at guessing historical facts. They keep having to agree to random historical events that may or may not have happened because the other guy said so. They are both passing World History with flying colors because of the research they have to do to keep the "ruse" up

Eventually, someone's identity gets revealed (I'm thinking Billy) to the League, which is really dramatic and emotional about how Billy lied to everyone about his age and history for so long. And then Danny arrives ten minutes late with a Starbucks like "hey why is everyone freaking out. Why is Superman crying. WHY is B-this random kid here. On the Watchtower. What."

Someone: Phantom, I know you and Shazam were close, did you know he was secretly the fourteen-year-old Billy Batson? He's been lying to us about his past this whole time!

Billy: D:

Phantom: :/ UH so while we're on the subject *transforms from Phantom to Danny* hey Billy!

Billy: DANNY?

Anyways its a whole confusing mess and everyone is yelling and nobody knows what the fuck is going on but eventually its cleared up that yes, both Phantom and Shazam are secretly kids, they apparently know each other but only in their secret IDs, and they have in fact been bullshitting Ancient History facts like there's no tomorrow

But the important part here is that Billy and Danny pass their lab final, because thats what really matters

[ggukiepie]

just a feeling

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you're busy doing president-y things (jungkook's words, not yours) and your best friend's there to help you out like he always does

tags: bil!couple, college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, two idiots in love, some fluff, oc is student council president so we stan, pet names

warnings: cursing, some mentions of skipping meals but nothing serious

wc: 1.8k

a/n: yes another one shot for this couple !! this can be read as a stand alone but i have other one shots you can read which you can find in my masterlist

--

You’re standing on your toes to make sure the banner you’re holding isn’t crooked. It’s probably not the safest to be on a ladder while tiptoeing and add the fact that the person down below holding the ladder isn’t really paying attention.

“Tae,” you call out without looking down. You squint your eyes at the banner, turning your head from side to side. Maybe you should’ve placed it higher? But then it might not be that noticeable so high up—

“Hm?” he replies, but his voice seems far off. Finally, you look down to see Taehyung holding the ladder with one hand, and in the other he’s typing on his phone.

You roll your eyes. “You’re not even paying attention,” you say exasperatedly. You’ve been up since 7 AM, running around school to make sure the preparations for the job fair are going smoothly. It’s almost 12 in the afternoon now and you haven’t had a single bite to eat. You just want this day to end. “Taehyung!”

He snaps his head up, eyes suddenly wide at the array of decorations and banners that are hung up. By the surprised look on his face, you’re positive he hasn’t been paying attention at all since you started. “Sorry,” he breathes out. “One company just came in late—”

“But they were supposed to arrive two hours ago!”

Taehyung widens his eyes in alarm. He’s known you for two years and has been working with you for one, so he pretty much knows the signs of your oncoming outbursts. “It’s fine.” He starts speaking again before you start shouting. You’re not mad at him, never have been, but you’re stressed and tired and hungry and you haven’t sat down in five hours. “Someone just has to assist them to their booth but everyone’s busy right now—”

“Just go.” You wave him off. You do not want things to be delayed even further and if it meant sacrificing your safety on the ladder, then so be it.

“Got it,” he says as he brings his phone to his ear, walking away without even glancing back at you. You sigh and turn back to the decorations. Yeah, the right side is definitely off. You huff and stretch out your arm hoping to get a hold of the right corner. It’s too far so you lean to the side to reach it. The ladder starts shaking but you don’t pay it any mind. You just need to finish this so you could go to the auditorium to check the stage design then—

“Hey! ___!”

You turn your head towards the voice just in time as you feel the ladder slam against the wall it’s leaning on, shaking every bone in your body. You look down suddenly and see Jungkook, whose got two hands holding the ladder tightly.

“What the fuck, ___,” he breathes out. “Why isn’t anyone holding the ladder? This is dangerous.”

You haven’t noticed your heart’s been racing. You hardly even noticed you were about to fall, but the look on Jungkook’s face says otherwise. “Sorry,” you whisper. You try to calm your racing heartbeat. “I just—” You breathe out. “I just needed to—”

“Come down,” he says, voice so quiet that you’re immediately complying, legs climbing down the ladder and Jungkook’s hand on your waist to guide you. Once you’re back on the ground again you turn to face him.

“Sorry,” you say, voice firmer now. “I just needed to get this done and Taehyung was the one helping but he needed to help set up a booth and—”

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook says as holds your hand in his and squeezes your fingers. Instantly, it calms you down. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”

You look into his eyes and nod, feeling at ease now that he’s here. Jungkook just has that effect on you, really. Plus you’ve known him since high school so he really knows how to ease your nerves. You clench your eyes shut and focus on the feel of his skin on yours, his thumb rubbing the outside of your palm, his big hands encasing your small ones. You’ve been working on this project for months now. You have a team and the rest of the student council to help you, sure, but all the ideas and planning came from you. So it’s been stressing you out. Good thing Jungkook’s been there to help you if needed, always giving you food and snacks and reminding you to take a break every once in a while. You’re sure you wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for him.

“You okay now, ___? We can grab some lunch if you have the time,” Jungkook says quietly.

You open your eyes and smile at him sheepishly. He instantly glares at you (but it’s the cute kind, the one where he wants you to think he’s mad but he isn’t). A pout forms in his face and he lets go of your hands. You miss the warmth instantly.

“Let me guess, you haven’t eaten a single thing all day haven’t you?”

You nod your head and Jungkook groans, throwing his head back dramatically as if he’s been told he can’t play soccer anymore.

“You shouldn’t forget to eat, ___. Food is important,” he huffs. “And it makes you less grumpy.”

You roll your eyes at him and turn to walk back to the ladder again, but Jungkook grabs your hand to make you face him.

“How about this, I’ll hold the ladder while you finish that sign, then we go for lunch.”

A million different things suddenly enter your mind. You still need to check the booths, then the auditorium, and then the registration area. You open your mouth to protest but Jungkook raises both his hands to stop you.

“We’ll only eat for twenty minutes and then you can go back to doing your President-y things.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest and Jungkook smiles, knowing you’re about to agree.

You point a finger at him. “Twenty minutes only. And you’re buying me coffee, too.”

He puts his hand on his chest and looks shocked, as if you’ve said the most offensive thing to him. “Baby,” he starts, and you know he’s saying it as a joke but it still makes your heart flutter. Makes that little seed of hope in you grow a little bit more. But you know Jungkook’s just a natural flirt and that he calls you that from time to time as a joke.

(At least that’s what you keep telling yourself)

He’s smiling so widely now, teeth on display with his dimples fully showing. He’s smirking a bit, too, and you can’t lie to yourself and say he doesn’t look absolutely dreamy right now. You know that look oh too well because it’s the one he uses when he’s flirting. With other girls.

“I buy you coffee all the time,” he says. “Whether you ask for it or not.”

And you know that’s true. Jungkook knows your love for coffee—and your favorite order at Starbucks—as much as he knows his favorite soccer players. He buys you coffee before he picks you up from class. He even buys you coffee when he randomly decides to drop by the student council office, which is partly given as a bribe to use the printer in there for free instead of paying for the printing services in campus.

You try to push him away but he only catches your hand to bring you a bit closer to him. Your bodies aren’t touching but you’re close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him.

Oh, you’re playing a very dangerous game, Jeon Jungkook.

You try to calm the beating in your heart and hope you aren’t blushing. Instead, you roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, you do. Now let me get this finished so we can eat.”

Jungkook holds the ladder while you finish decorating the banner, and from time to time he’d give his comments about the placement. You’re grateful for the help and finish ten minutes later. You’re pouting at him to return the ladder (which he does because he can never say no to you when you’re pouting) and finally you’re both making your way to the cafeteria.

True to his word, Jungkook makes sure you don’t take too long to eat. But he also makes sure you’re eating enough as well. He’s usually chatty when you’re eating together but he’s pretty silent now as you munch on your food. You’re distracted anyway, fingers busy typing on your phone as you’re responding to all the messages you haven’t checked yet. Jungkook’s used to this, of course, so he’s watching some anime highlights on his phone like he always does when you’re busy with President-y things (his words, not yours).

After eating he’s walking you to the auditorium, large coffee in your hand and a cookie in the other since he insisted you need to eat some more. Once you’re by the entrance, Jungkook suddenly stands in front of you, shoulders straight and feet together. “Good luck, Madam President.” He salutes and you roll your eyes in return.

“You’re honestly such a fucking dork.”

He smiles that bunny smile you adore. “You love me anyway,” he says and you choose not to reply. “Anyway, I’ll get going to class now. See you later at practice?” he asks.

He means his soccer practice and you nod your head quickly. You watch his practices most of the time anyway, but you think he just wants you there because you always have snacks for him and also so he can show off his tricks to you. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Now go before you’re late!”

“See you later, cutie.”

Again, it’s one of those pet names he calls you as a joke. You glare at him. “Seriously, Jeon, what’s with all the nicknames?” You might just throw the cookie at him to make sure he doesn't see you blushing.

He shrugs but he’s got that boyish smile on his face. Finally, he starts walking away. You watch his back for a bit but he suddenly turns around, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Because you look really cute today, cutie.”

You frown at yourself and look down at your outfit, eyeing the sweats and big shirt you’re wearing today for comfort. You’re pretty sure you’re sweating a lot and your hair’s a mess. You look up and shake your head to yourself while you make your way to the auditorium, wondering why in the world Jungkook would think you look cute today out of all days.

It doesn’t help slow down the beating in your heart, however, and you find yourself smiling the whole day.

[tryingmyves]

MHA | Characters and the summer date they’d take you on

A/N: the title is pretty self explanatory - this will be a lot like my Starbucks series. i hope you enjoy!

A/N 2: whoops, this one gotta a bit long and is loosely inspired by real life events

Series will include: Tenya Iida, Shoto Todoroki, Izuku Midoriya, Hanta Sero, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Katsuki Bakugo, and Hitoshi Shinso (maybe more, who knows)

- you and Hitoshi have been together for a while now

- and while he does his best to take you on proper dates, you prefer the late night netflix marathons and FaceTime calls that have become something of a daily ritual

- if you’re both free, you’ll go to Hitoshi’s apartment, staying up until sleep finally takes over, snuggling with Community on in the background

- but when your schedules don’t match up, Hitoshi FaceTimes you around 11pm

- you’ll talk for a while, but eventually you doze off

- Hitoshi never ends the call though

- instead he listens to your soft snoring until he can find some rest of his own

- but tonight, insomnia has a tighter hold on him

- it’s only a little after 10, but he already knows that he won’t find any sleep tonight

- so he sends you a text, “you want to go on an adventure?”

- and starts loading the bed off his beat-up truck with all the pillows and blankets he owns

- twenty minutes later he’s waiting in your driveway as you come out the front door in his oversized hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts

- climbing into the passenger side of the truck, you lean across the center console to give him a kiss

- you note the pile of bedding in the back of the truck, “is that part of the adventure?”

- he just gives you a sly wink before backing out of the drive, “it’s a surprise.”

- Hitoshi drives for about an hour, outside of city limits, and eventually down a side road, before finally parking the truck

- “Babe, did you bring me out here to like…” you make a slicing motion across your neck and cross your eyes

- he lets out a deep laugh as he turns off the engine

- “I considered it, but thought we could watch the stars instead,” he opens his door, getting out to arrange the pillows and blankets in the back of the truck

- you follow after him, quickly crawling onto to tailgate and into the cocoon of blankets

- Hitoshi pulls out his phone to turn on a lofi playlist, a synthesized symphony to fill the comfortable pauses in your conversations

- as you settle into the nook of Hitoshi’s arm he begins to speak, “It’s been hard for me to sleep lately, so I thought since I’m going to be awake anyway, I could be awake with you.”

- he smiles down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead

- “Plus I read there’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.”

- Hitoshi thinks your eyes shine brighter than the stars above at the mention of a meteor shower

- the lazy smile on your lips stretches into a wide grin

- you sit up, taking in the shining cosmos above you, unsullied by the pollution of city lights

- turning back to face Hitoshi, you beam, “Best adventure ever,” before leaning forward to press your lips to his

- you can feel him smiling into the kiss, and can’t stop your lips from mirroring his

- you settle back into your comfortable position beside Hitoshi and turn your eyes back to the sky in time to see a single shooting star

- your arm shoots up, pointing out the trail of light streaking through the blackness above

- “Babe, make a wish!”

- Hitoshi chuckles softly at your excitement as he looks down at you in his arms

- he doesn’t offer you any other response, but rather thinks to himself he doesn’t need to wish for anything

- not when he’s with you

- the pair of you lay in the bed of Hitoshi’s truck for hours

- his phone plays soft music as the two of you point out constellations and meteors to one another, occasionally getting lost in a makeout session

- slowly, the number of shooting stars become fewer and the time between sightings grows longer

- it’s nearly 4AM and you’ve been struggling to keep your eyes open for a while when Hitoshi suggests heading back to town

- you squeeze him tighter from your position beside him before nodding and freeing yourself from the nest you had created

- after helping Hitoshi secure all the bedding, you both get back into the cab and head back to the city

- you fall asleep before Hitoshi makes it back to the highway

- but he just smiles, still holding your hand as you slumber

- when he gets closer to town he rouses you gently, releasing your hand to pat you lightly on your thigh

- “Hey kitten, we’re back to town.”

- you come to with a deep breath, lifting your head and rubbing your eyes

- as you adjust to being awake your stomach growls loud enough for Hitoshi to hear, “can we get breakfast?”

- this earns another laugh from your boyfriend, “good morning to you too.”

- he flips on his blinker, changing his course to a nearby 24 hour diner

- the pair of you arrive to find it’s mostly empty, save a handful of patrons

- Hitoshi only orders a black coffee, but you get a large stack of pancakes and a side of scrambled eggs with orange juice

- and when you inevitably can’t finish all your food, Hitoshi eats your leftovers

- you offer to pay for breakfast since he didn’t really get anything, but he beats you to the check

- “I kept you up all night, the least I can do is feed you.”

- you don’t mind having been kept up, but you decide not to question free breakfast

- as you leave the diner, you realize that the sun will be rising in about 20 minutes

- “Hitoshi! Can we watch the sunrise before you take me home?”

- “Looks like your nap did you some good,” he laughs, “come on.”

- ten minutes later, Hitoshi’s truck is parked in the beach parking lot with the tailgate down and you two sitting atop it

- the sun rises not long after, bathing the water in soft pinks and muted violets which are in turn, refracted back into the sky

- something between a yawn and a laugh leaves your mouth as you muse, “it matches your hair.”

- “I think the lack of sleep is making you delirious,” Hitoshi chuckles, squeezing your side

- “I think you’re right,” you say as you lean further into him, resting your heavy head on his shoulder, “I don’t know how you manage like this.”

- “I take lots of naps,” he shrugs, forcing your head off his shoulders

- you pout at being removed from your comfortable position so unceremoniously until he stands and offers you his hand

- “I think I could go for one about now actually… Care to join me?”

- you happily agree and end up back at Hitoshi’s apartment

- after lugging all of his bedding back inside, you and Hitoshi finally collapse into his bed

- sleep takes you both quickly, and you spend a large portion of the new day recovering from last night’s adventures wrapped in one another’s arms

[neoheros]

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

[fuck-customers]

I am so sick of constantly being called into work on my days off because one of my coworkers called off. At this point I am more shocked when it doesn’t happen than when it does. Aside from the fact that, you know, I have a life outside of work, I have anxiety, insomnia, and an autoimmune disease, so very often I need my days off to recover my energy, sleep, and sanity.

I have not called off work in two years, and the time I did was because I literally could not walk (due to the autoimmune disease). I arrive to my shift ten minutes early every day. I frequently have to stay late because one of my coworkers is in the habit of arriving twenty minutes late with Starbucks. I have come to work in excruciating pain (including on my FUCKING BIRTHDAY), flaring up, severely sleep-deprived, and/or drained of energy. (If you’ve never experienced chronic illness fatigue, it feels like the life has been sucked out of you. It’s not the same as sleep deprivation.) I literally drove my bike into a tree three hours before my shift was supposed to start and I didn’t even think of calling off. I am probably the only employee who can say any of that. And it feels like it is never fucking enough for these people.

This is starting to negatively affect my mental health. I cannot even enjoy my much-needed days off because I’m either looking over my shoulder, waiting to be called in, or I’m pissed off because I’ve been called in. I usually say no, and I’m starting to feel less and less guilty about that, but it’s still so frustrating. I feel like they have no respect for my time and that because I am reliable they think I just sit around waiting to be called in. I feel like I am expected to keep giving and giving and giving until I have nothing left to give, and then they will still want more.

My supervisor got a bit snarky with me today (which is a very good way to get me to NOT do the thing you want me to do) and tried to guilt me. It’s not like I don’t take shifts. I have done so. Who doesn’t like a bit of OT from time to time? But if someone calls off on a day I’m not in a position to take a shift, I’m not coming in. And that is simply what’s been happening lately.

Oh, and it’s worth mentioning that one of the many reasons I left my old job for this one is because one of my coworkers was super flaky and I was constantly being called on my days off, leading to stress and frequent anxiety attacks. That is the truly depressing part. Some of the reasons I left my old job have followed me to my current job.

[parkers-gal]

Reader meet Tom during a Meet and greet for the first time. She’s European (like Belgian perhaps. You can choose that) and she catches his attention. They start as close friends and whenever she gets to London, they meet up. After a while they start a relationship (can be long distance) and they just adore eachother a lot.

a good story

wc | 3k (SORRY i rly went off)

i chose france because i heard they have a bit more diversity...? i hope that makes it a bit more universal :) plsss i didn't proofread — hope u like it ! <3

—

You try to wipe the sweat off your hand for the fifth time in the last two minutes. Your pulse picks up while the line moves up again. You’ve been waiting for about an hour and a half, but you really don’t mind. Not when that mop of curls and pile of muscles is so close. Besides, you get to fangirl with the rest of the fans in line around you.

You’d been in deep conversation with a girl and her girlfriend for a good while until one of them went off to get coffee and the other asked to use the bathroom. The security guard assured them that they’d return to their exact position in line, ensuring they wouldn’t have to wait all over again. You missed them, though, because they weren’t back within seven minutes so you preoccupied yourself with the lanyard around your neck with your VIP Access pass attached to the end.

You play with the strings of the Spider-man hoodie; it’s the midtown hoodie that Peter Parker wears in the first movie. You wore it to be cute — and it is, especially with these jeans — but now you’re afraid you might die of heat exhaustion. As the security guards usher yet another fan through the curtains, your feet move forward a couple of feet until the movement stops and you’re stuck waiting again.

The girl and her girlfriend return not a minute later, one of them offering you a bite of their croissants from Starbucks. You ponder the offer before politely declining; you don’t want your breath to smell, or something to get stuck in your teeth. You know you’re overthinking this entire situation, but you can’t help but be nervous when you’re about to meet the one person you’ve spent so much of your time gawking over — and through a screen, at that. It’s pathetic, you admit, but you can’t help it. There’s just something about him.

Another fan goes through the curtains and suddenly you’re less than five turns away from meeting the beloved Brit. You can’t help but feel a little more connected to him, knowing that you’d flown all the way from Paris, France for this London Meet-and-Greet. It’s a wonder how you got your schedule to work so well.

You move forward another spot, tapping your index and middle fingers on your hip while tracing the lines of the tiled floor. You try to distract yourself — counting every prime number you can think of, naming all the superheroes in the Marvel Franchise — until you’re one spot away from going through the black curtains.

“You’ll be in in less than three minutes,” the girl smiles while informing you of the estimated time frame. You thank her, taking note of the tag attached to her uniform.

You take a deep breath, shaking away all nerves and last jitters before wiping your hands one last fateful time. And then all at once, the curtain opens and allows you to step through and into the room where a young actor awaits your arrival. It’s so surreal that you have to watch your feet to ensure they don’t trip and cause you to stumble.

“Hello, love. How’re you?”

Your breath hitches and when he finally takes a good look at you, his breath does too. Your eyes lock for a beat, the two of you lost in a trance before you finally spit out a response.

“I’m… really good. How’re you?”

He smiles, eyes crinkling and face lifting up. “I’m great, thank you.”

You nod, the tip of your tongue playing with your front tooth. You shake out of it, though, setting your bag and your lanyard down on the provided table before stepping a little closer to him.

“Ah, the Midtown hoodie,” He points out, holding your wrists out so he can examine the sweatshirt himself.

“Yeah,” you smile bashfully. “It’s… stylish.”

He laughs wholeheartedly, something that eats away at your shell and causes you to join his chuckling.

“What’s your name, darling?”

You bite your lip, inhaling sharply at the term of endearment. “Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tom,” he offers a hand, something that makes your face scrunch up with a laugh.

“Can we hug instead?”

“Please?” He insists, realizing how embarrassing his last move was. The two of you embrace strongly, and you inhale the scent of Tom Holland while you can.

When you separate, you grow a little more courage, and pick up the conversation. “I loved you in The Impossibly. Obviously in the Spider-man movies, too, but your other movies are really good, too.”

“Thank you, love. That means a lot,” he scratches his neck with a sheepish smile, a blush rising from his neck and onto his cheeks. He smiles, an action you mirror. “Is this your first Meet-and-Greet?”

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a bit nervous.”

He nods in understanding. “Are you from England?”

You shake your head, “I’m currently living in Paris.”

“Ah, the country of romance,” He looks as if he’s thinking of what to say next — as if he shouldn’t say it. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” You smile again, and the glint in Tom’s eye changes just a shade, as if he’s just unlocked a new level. He looks excited for a different reason now.

“How long are you staying in England?”

“Till the end of the week,” You can’t help but feel giddy because it’s only Monday, which means you have until Saturday night to explore the great country of Britain, home to Tom Holland and Tom Hiddleston and Benedict Cumberbatch and basically every celebrity you’ve ever been a fan of. You can’t anticipate what Tom’s to say next, because you don’t want to turn your experience into a Wattpad story, but you hope he’s about to offer something in relation to sightseeing.

“Would you want to… could I show you around? Show you all the best places?” He looks shyer than you, almost, and you swallow your heart so you can answer calmly.

“You’d do that?’

“Of course,” He smiles softly. “You look like a lot of fun.”

You’re taken aback at the compliment, and you stumble out a reply as best you can. The two of you are reminded to take the picture so the line can move forward again, and you will yourself not to frown at the coming end of your encounter with the famous Brit.

“Could we do this?” You show him a picture from your phone and he nods excitedly.

The two of you link hands, standing close together while you smile into the camera. Your encounter comes to an end, and though you’re disappointed, Tom asks for your number, giving you his phone for the occasion. You’re giddy as you wave goodbye, leaving the tent with your picture and his lingering energy.

A day passes, giving you time to recover from your celebrity-interaction and time to get settled into your comforting hotel room on the seventh floor. You’re a bit wary that Tom won’t ever text you, and seeing as you don’t have his number, you realize you have to wait it out. You don’t want to risk waiting for the entirety of your stay here, though, so you grow worried. But alas, Tom texts late on Tuesday night, apologizing for the radio silence that came when he had to finish up the Meet-and-Greet event. You’re relieved, to say the least.

He exchanges details, telling you to meet him at a corner cafe at ten in the morning tomorrow. You comply, promising to get a good night’s rest before saying your goodnights and sleeping the hours away. You’re promptly awoke but your eight-thirty alarm. With a groan, you get up to shower, and the cold water wakes you right up.

An hour later and you’re ready for some quality, top-notch sightseeing. You grab what you need, locking your hotel room door before going down the elevator with a sweet elderly couple. You follow the map on your phone until you arrive at a small shop on the corner, just as Tom had said. You pull the door open, the smell of coffee beans entering your airways. You exhale the familiarity of it all, smiling to yourself before searching the shop. You spot Tom in a corner booth, and as you make your way over, he sets his phone face-down on the table with a smile, waving at you. You take a seat across from him.

“This place is cute.”

“Right? Best tea in London.”

Your stomach grumbles, loud enough for the both of you to hear and then share a laugh about. “I suppose I should eat breakfast.”

“I suppose I should join you,” he replies in the same tone, the two of you sharing tender smiles before someone comes over to take your order.

The conversation picks up and all tension and awkwardness wafts away in the air, leaving you in Tom’s comfortable aura. You talk until the check is paid, and as you step out on the crisp air of the city’s streets, you turn to Tom for the agenda.

The day goes on like that. The two of you go all around the city, visiting The British Museum, the Tower Bridge, Big Ben the clock tower, the Buckingham Palace, the Portobello Road Market, the National Gallery, and even the London eye. Tom knows everything like the back of his hand, and the ancient city makes you feel so significant. Your last stop is Cambridge University, something you’ve always wanted to see in person.

Tom’s been taking your picture all day. On polaroids, your iPhones, and even some of the tourist-profiting workers who beg for sales. He claims it’s so you can start scrapbooking, a conversation the two of you had covered during your many word exchanges.

The two of you have been all over the city since the end of breakfast at almost eleven o’clock. Now, it’s almost eight o’clock and you’re hungry as fuck. After some debate, the two of you decide to take a big red bus back to your hotel for some room service or hotel-restaurant food.

Tom sits in the seat beside you on the bus, the two of you up top and enjoying the city. You get lost in conversation again, the two of you going through today’s latest pictures and video-memories. You end up goofing off, so much so that you almost miss your stop.

The two of you stumble to the entrance of your hotel. Tom smiles, grabbing the door for you. You reply with a sheepish “thank you,” before waving hello to the front desk women.

“Do you want room service or do you want to dine in the restaurant?”

“Would you mind if I joined you for room service?”

You shake your head with a gentle smile, the two of you racing to the elevators. After hitting your floor number, the elevator goes up and the two of you talk again and again. Tom excuses himself to the bathroom when you get into your room; it gives you the opportunity to change out of your clothes and into a pair of sweats and a loose tank. Tom comes out ready for room service but is grown flustered at the sight of a different outfit on you.

“Getting comfortable?”

“Duh,” you lean back on the queen sized bed, back hitting the headboard. “Stay for a movie?”

He smiles, “Hand me the menu.”

He ends up staying until ten o’clock. You promise to go clubbing with him, for a full London experience, and the two of you schedule to do just that on Friday night. You book the entirety of Thursday to finish your sightseeing with him, and before you know it, you’re spending every day in London with Tom.

On your last day, Saturday, you eat breakfast with him at that first fateful cafe. He tells you he can’t take you to the airport — he’d probably get mobbed by fans — and you understand, promising to call him once you land. He promises to come with you to France one day, so the roles can reverse.

You finish your final cup of coffee just as Tom finishes his tea. He smiles sadly, one you mirror.

“I’ll see you soon, you know. And you can still drop me off at the airport.”

“I know,” he smiles sheepishly, hand reaching across the table for yours. “But I’ll miss sightseeing with you. I forget how amazing my own country is, sometimes.”

“Well,” you smile, “I’ll be back, so don’t worry too much, Tom. It’s not like I’m going across the world.”

“Yeah,” He chuckles, “And besides, I can come see you sometime.”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s just so weird to have friends in France and shit,” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Like you live there and I can just go and visit you whenever.”

“I’m still a call away.”

“And thank god for that.”

You exhale after a beat of silence. “This is so fucking crazy.”

“What?”

“This. You, us hanging out. Just four days ago I was paying to see you, and now I’m having breakfast with you for the third time?”

“I promise, I’ll refund that Meet-and-Greet money.”

“Why?” You look at him quizzically and he bites his bottom lip.

“Well we’re friends, so you don’t really need to waste that money and I can get it back so-”

“Don’t,” you look up at him. “It makes for a good story.”

He nods, and after the two of you pay the check, you’re standing from the booth of the quaint little shop one final time, making your way to your door and settling in the passenger seat of Tom’s car. With your luggage in the backseat, he drives all the way to the airport, the loud sound of plane engines filling your ears. He drops you off at the terminal with a hug and a watery smile.

“See you soon!” He waves until you’re out of sight and the security guard is threatening to give him a ticket.

Half a year goes by, with quick three-day weekend trips back and forth, to London and to France even. You’ve seen Tom a total of seven times in the past six months, and you’ve grown closer than ever.

About a month goes by after your last trip, until your boss is telling you that you’re getting a week off for the upcoming paid break. You’ve already confirmed your flight and hotel plans to London, wanting to surprise Tom.

You decide to do it the night before you’re due on the airplane to the country of Brits.

You can’t help but grin at your phone, eventually laying down to sleep while you can before your early morning flight. Tom’s on your mind, in your future, and in your dreams. The last month of FaceTimes and text messages have been amazing, but unbearable because you miss his presence. The extreme amounts of flirting, however, have definitely picked up over text. Your week long trip to London marks the eighth time you’ve seen Tom since that first fateful Meet-and-Greet. You can’t help but feel like the dynamic is changing a bit, though. The two of you have upped the levels a bit, and now you’re more cuddly, more flirty, and definitely more interested.

When you land, you text Tom but frown when the usual immediate response doesn’t come. Moving past a crowd of waiting people, you head to baggage claim to get your luggage. After excruciatingly lifting it off of the conveyor belt, it lands with a thud on the ground and you start wheeling it towards the exit.

The building is extremely less crowded thanks to your early flight booking. When you look up, you see that familiar head of precious brown locks, and you squeal. Tom never leaves the car when picking you up or dropping you off at the airport, for fear of paparazzi and fans catching him. But this time, he’s out and in the building to come get you.

Abandoning your luggage, you drop your carry-on on the floor as you run over to him as fast as you can. He can sense you’re about to jump into his embrace, so he prepares for the bone-crushing hug.

Your arms go around his neck while his hands settle on your waist. He smiles, chin settled in the crook of your neck while he inhales the scent of you.

“Tommy, oh my god. I missed you so much.”

When you pull apart, you’re each a jumbled mess of excitement and tears, so much so that when Tom’s hands grip your face to pull you in to a passionate kiss, you’re immediately calmed. Though you’ve never kissed before, it feels so right.

Your lips chase after his, deepening it as your hands go to his hair and his to the small of your back. When you separate, your foreheads lean against each other while you pant.

“That’s new.”

“Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

You chuckle, “I would’ve said yes.”

He interlocks your fingers, smiling. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more.”

Suddenly, he’s reminded of the fact that the two of you are in public, and when he looks up, he sees a group of girls holding their phones up and capturing the moment he’s just shared with you. Quickly, he pulls you into his chest protectively, hiding your face in your neck.

“We need to hide or else they’re gonna know it’s m-”

“Don’t,” you settle him. “It makes for a good story.”

[qoinq-qhost]

*arrives at the wing au ten minutes late with a starbucks* sup

[kythed]

cold war

semi eita x reader

synopsis: how many degrees does it take to melt semi eita? (ficmas day 2!)

“Why would you ever apply for a job at an ice rink,” he says, tone thickly frosted with annoyance, “if you can’t even skate?”

You blink up at your co-worker from the ice, the seat of your pants growing uncomfortably damp. Giggling children and lovesick couples glide by, all far more proficient skaters than you are. You offer the boy standing above you sheepish smile. “It just pays better than babysitting, I guess.”

He doesn’t laugh, just exhales heavily through his nose and hoists you up by the forearm with an unnecessarily harsh grip.

“Ouch,” you say indignantly, but the complaint dies on your lips when he shoots you a glare steely enough to slice through marble. Though the obvious irritation clouding his angular features renders you unable to fully appreciate his good looks, he’s the definition of severe beauty, all fair tousled hair and slate grey eyes.

“Learn how. Or else.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and effortlessly skates away to go rescue a toddler hanging onto the edge of the rink, crying for her mother. You watch as he lifts her up gently and sets her on her feet with an affectionate pat on the head. Then, almost as if he can feel you staring, he whips around and narrows his eyes with an expression that sends a chill down your spine.

You frown, but the pout swiftly turns into a scheming smile.

Semi Eita is cold. But not so cold he can’t be melted.

--

Operation Melt Semi starts small. The next day, you get to the rink early and wait for him to arrive. When he walks through the door, shrugging off his heavy parka, you sidle up to him and offer him a cheery “Morning, Semi!” along with a beaming grin.

“Morning,” he says, not even sparing you a glance as he ducks into the men’s lockers. Your face falls. Damn it. This might be a little harder than you’d previously anticipated.

You try again that Friday when you catch him in the coat room while you’re both sitting on the bench and changing into your skates. He knots his laces almost aggressively, pulling them so tight they cut angry red lines across his palms.

“Your hair looks good like that,” you say tentatively. It’s parted down the middle today, and it really does suit him. “Very nineties.”

Semi gives you an incredulous look before briefly glancing into a reflective window. He turns back, reaches into his pocket, and unwraps a piece of gum without offering you one. You bristle with annoyance but keep the sunny smile plastered across your face-- your cheeks are beginning to numb.

“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Um, yeah, kinda.” You cringe inwardly when your voice cracks.

“Gross,” he says, jumping up and leaving you to struggle with your laces. You sigh and slump down. Bastard.

On Saturday, however, and every day you see him after that, he has his hair parted down the middle. He doesn’t mention it again, and neither do you, but you do feel a small sense of victory every time he runs a careful hand through his silvery locks, setting them in place after lapping the rink.

--

A couple weeks later, you’ve just gotten off your morning shift, a little bruised and battered (both physically and emotionally). Semi had still been forced to save you from the cruel, slippery ice a couple times, of course, so you’d taken the opportunity to thank him profusely, and you swear you saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he pulled you up once. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Hey,” you say, poking your head into the break room. Semi and a couple of other rink attendants look up from their phones. “Anyone want a coffee? I’m gonna make a run to the nearest Starbucks for a latte.”

“No,” Semi says automatically, face blank, and you roll your eyes internally. Of course he’d decline. As your other co-workers rattle off their orders (one small caramel mocha, one earl grey tea), you resolve to buy him a drink anyways.

If I were an annoyingly attractive asshole, you muse, squinting your eyes at the Starbucks menu ten minutes later, what would I order?

When you return to the rink, breathless and bearing a heavily laden, flimsy cardboard tray, you thrust a steaming paper cup of coffee into Semi’s hand. He stares at you, face painted with something resembling surprise.

“I said I didn’t want anything,” he says, taking the lid off to skeptically peer inside. He glances up at you.“Is this a blonde roast?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. It’s all you can do to keep the smug grin off your face as Semi inhales the mellow, milky bitterness, letting the steam curl onto his face in the cold ice rink air.

“How did you kno--”

“I could just tell,” you hum, plopping down on the couch as you take a long drink of your own latte. The vanilla syrup generously pumped inside is almost as sweetly gratifying as the bewildered expression on Semi’s face. He just shakes his head, still staring at the cup in his hand.

“Well, how much was it? I’m paying you back.”

“It’s on me,” you say casually, smiling serenely at the way his mouth opens and closes like a shocked goldfish. “Don’t worry about it.”

Semi doesn’t respond as he sets the coffee down on the table, but later you see him sipping on it while he plays some little puzzle game on his phone. Mission accomplished.

--

You’re the last one to leave the rink that day, so you lock up and double check each door before skipping into the coat room to grab your bag. The fluorescent lights flicker sporadically, casting an artificial lightning over the benches. As you reach for the bag, squinting, you catch a little yellow post-it sticking out from its smallest pocket.

Thanks, it reads, messy script scrawled in blue ink. Folded beneath it is a slightly wrinkled five dollar bill.

Despite yourself, a small smile spreads across your face. The thawing has begun.

--

It’s an uphill journey, of course, but with each victorious battle you inch a little closer to winning the war. Semi isn’t invincible, and the cracks in his icy facade are beginning to show.

He’s a little more patient, a little more understanding. His small gestures betray his hand as he shows you how to angle your skates to stop on the ice, as he gives you a pack of tissues when you have a runny nose. He still manages to sneak in an eye roll or snide side comment, of course-- “Seriously, you can’t even brake? You’re hopeless,” or “You shouldn’t have come into work today if you’re sick. You’ll pass all your germs to me.” But still, it’s baby steps, you remind yourself, clutching onto his arm as you come to a grinding halt on the ice, snatching the tissues from his hand with a pained smile and a forced “Thanks, Semi.”

One day, you have to take a shift immediately after leaving a family friend’s wedding. It had been a lovely ceremony (with really, really good chocolate cake), but you hadn’t had time to change into work clothes, so you find yourself rushing through the doors still wearing a cocktail dress and heels, tugging your backpack onto your shoulder and praying your manager doesn’t notice you’re a few minutes late.

Semi is at the counter cleaning a pair of skates, meticulously wiping the blades dry. His phone rests beside him, some sort of pulsing electropop trickling softly from its speakers. He’s nodding his head slightly, keeping pace with the rhythm, and his face is calm, devoid of the irritation you’ve grown so familiar with.

You clear your throat. “Uh, hey.”

Semi looks up, and for a moment, time stops. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing painfully in his throat as his gaze shakily makes its way down from the tops of your bare shoulders, to your exposed neckline, to the skirt swishing just above your knees. The dress is a soft pink chiffon, more delicate and feminine than anything you’d ever worn into work.

There’s a sudden heat, a jolt in the pit of your stomach as he meets your eyes again, and you swear he feels it too. It seems as though the temperature in the rink has instantaneously risen twenty degrees-- you think you might start sweating.

“You look…” Semi breathes, but then he stops himself, choking down whatever his next words might’ve been. He furrows his brows and tears his stare away, looking back down at the forgotten skates.

There’s a brief beat of silence, dappled with only the occasional child’s shriek of joy from on the ice.

“You’d better get changed,” he says finally, pointedly looking anywhere but you.

“Okay,” you say, unable to come up with anything more sophisticated. Your mind is empty of anything but the memory of those cold grey eyes growing suddenly hot, gazing into yours with a warmth of indescribable magnitude. As you slowly walk into the womens’ lockers, something dawns on you. There might be a different way to melt the ice prince.

--

Work is different, after that. Your days are no longer characterized by torment, by rude jabs and scowls from Semi that poke at you right where you’re sore. Instead, they’re not-so-subtly woven with lingering glances, with “accidental” touches at just the right moment to send an unwanted shudder to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

Once, when you’re working the counter, fitting customers and renting out skates, Semi skids off the ice with a spray of snow and clinks his way over to you, blades meeting the tile floor metallically.

“I’m gonna change these out for a different pair,” he tells you, and you nod, acutely aware of his close proximity. As he slips behind you, he touches your lower back lightly, just enough so you know he’s there. A breath catches in your throat when his fingers linger just a little longer than necessary, leaving their imprints burning on your skin, even through the thick fabric of your sweater.

He doesn’t look at you when he comes back out, but the back of his neck is flushed pink. You catch a whiff of his cologne-- it’s woody and spicy, comforting like a distant childhood memory. You fight the sudden impulse to launch yourself into his arms and bury your face in his hair, inhaling that holiday-esque scent.

No, no, no, you scold yourself as you watch him slide back onto the ice. Not Semi Eita. Anyone but Semi Eita.

You’d set out to make peace with him, to make work life a little more bearable for the both of you. You hadn’t expected yourself to start looking forward to seeing him each day, to have your chest constrict, the air crushed from your lungs like a soda can underfoot every time he looked your way. All you’d wanted to do was melt his icy exterior-- not let yourself get scalded by his heat.

A week later, when you enter the rink, there’s an impossibly tall redhead leering over Semi, who’s idly filling in a timetable on the front counter. He’s chattering away in a lilting, sing-songy tone while Semi pays him exactly zero attention.

“--but the last episode was really of pristine quality, you know? None of that filler crap, just great writing, excellent animation, and-- oooooh.” When ginger giant notices you, a joker-like grin stretches across his face. “And who’s this?”

“I--”

“She’s nobody,” Semi cuts in, slamming the timetable shut and jumping over the counter. He glares up at his friend, looking a bit like a disgruntled house cat attempting to bully a tiger. “I think it’s about time for you to get going.”

The friend ignores Semi’s attempt at intimidation, instead turning his attention to you. He takes your hand in a way that makes it unclear whether or not he’s about to shake it or kiss it. You stifle a giggle. “Well, hello, ‘Nobody.’ Pretty name. My name’s Tendou Satori, but you can call me--”

Semi cuts him off with a sharp jab to the ribs and Tendou doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach overdramatically. “Not her.”

“Ouch, Semi-Semi,” Tendou gasps, though a few stray giggles escape with his theatrics. He glances at Semi, then to you, then back to him, apparently having some sort of silent epiphany. His face lights up as gleefully as a kid’s on Christmas morning. “Wait… is this the girl you’re always ta--”

Semi jabs him again, harder this time, and Tendou yelps, stumbling backwards. You cringe as he knocks over a stack of ice walkers— as entertaining as this squabble is, you’ll be the one to clean up the mess. Then Semi stalks over and drags him back by the wrist with the rough swagger of a sheriff arresting the town’s most wanted. He glowers at Tendou, face dark as a thunderstorm. “Tendou, I swear to God, if you so much say another word I will strangle you with my bare hands.”

“Never knew you were so kinky, Semi-Semi!” Tendou preemptively dodges any possible counterattack and turns to you, punctuating his next phrase with a wink: “Have fun with that.”

Later, once Semi has successfully ushered Tendou out the door, you turn to him, eyebrow raised. “What did he mean by ‘have fun with that,’ Eita?”

“Nothing,” Semi says, though his guarded tone leads you to suspect otherwise. He offers you a piece of gum before taking one himself and slipping the sleeve back into his bag. “He’s just like that. Also, since when have we been on a first name basis?”

You blush. You hadn’t even realized you’d called him by his first name. Then you smile a little, popping the gum into your mouth and folding the wrapper into a neat little square. “If you’d prefer, I could call you Semi-Semi as well.”

Semi pales, presumably watching as a vision of his life tormented by two Tendous flashes before his eyes. Then he looks back to you and clears his throat. “Eita is fine.”

As you go about your day, robotically hooking skates back on the shelf, wiping down the snack bar tables, stacking chair, and shivering the whole time, what Tendou was about to say rings in your ears: Are you the girl he’s always talking about?

You can’t help but wonder what exactly Semi says about you.

--

It’s a Saturday evening when you approach Semi to ask for a skating lesson.

“Please,” you say, trailing him around the edges of the rink like a lost puppy. He’s picking up stray bits of trash from beneath the benches— sticky pieces of candy wrappers and cigarette butts left behind by unconscientious skaters. “I just want to stop falling so often-- it’s embarrassing.”

“Yeah, it is embarrassing,” Semi says, suddenly standing upright and turning to face you. He leans close, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a sly half smile. “Sucks to suck.”

“Eita,” you say again, reaching out to tug the edge of his sleeve. He glances at your fingers tightly clutching the thick wool of his sweater and then back up to you. You put on your best pleading pout. “Come on, just for tonight? Just like an hour on the ice, tops.”

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. He glances at his watch and sighs. “I have to get home by nine… I guess we can stay for an hour. But only an hour.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Thanks, Semi-Semi,” you say with a grin, and he scowls.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Too bad.”

--

Semi is a surprisingly good teacher. He pokes fun at you, of course, mocking the way you cling to him when he tries to teach you to skate in a circle, or the way you clumsily flail your arms to keep your balance, but he’s patient. He’s gentle when he corrects your form, when he offers you a hand with which to pull yourself up.

It’s only the two of you now, twenty minutes after closing time. All the lights in the rink are off but the large one directly overhead, a spotlight that illuminates the pale, glassy expanse of the ice. The scrape of your blades over the ice echoes throughout the rink as Semi holds your waist lightly, trying to guide you backwards.

“I don’t understand,” you complain, shuffling backwards and trying your hardest to avoid stepping on Semi’s skates. “If I need to go the other direction, I can just turn around, can’t I?”

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tightening his grip on your waist as you wobble slightly. “Saves time. Just keep your toe pointed inwards and move your skates in curves. It’s not that hard.”

“It’s not that hard,” you say, imitating him in a squeaky, high pitched tone.

You hear him snort behind you. “That’s not what I sound like.”

“That’s exactly what you sound like,” you say, looking down at your feet. Toes in. Skates move in curves. “Hey, wait, am I doing it right?”

You glide backwards, slowly, hesitantly. Semi moves with you, hands still hovering at your sides just in case. “Almost. Bend your knees a little, that’ll make it easier to balance.”

“Oh, okay. I-- shit!”

In an entirely ungraceful lurching movement, you lose your balance, grabbing Semi’s wrist in a futile attempt to remain upright. The next moment unfolds in slow motion as you fall backwards, pulling a horrified, wide-eyed Semi on top of you as your back hits the ice, his entire body sprawled over your smaller frame.

You lay in stunned silence for a second, feeling your spine throb and the cold of the ice already beginning to seep through your clothes. Semi’s face is inches from yours-- his breath smells like the spearmint gum he’s always chewing, and, for the first time, you notice subtle green flecks in his grey eyes.

“Sorry,” you finally whisper, staring at him. “I didn’t mean to.”

He doesn’t shift himself off of you, just stares back at you with furrowed brows. Almost imperceptibly, his gaze flicks down to your lips and back up again. Your breath catches in your throat-- but then a wide, bright grin breaks across his face, and it’s like the sun, brilliantly slicing through a gloomy mass of storm clouds with its sharp golden rays.

“You-- you’re-- you’re such a shit skater,” he chokes out between guffaws. You can feel his chest heaving with each laugh, and an angry flush crawls over your cheeks.

“It wasn’t my fault!” you protest, attempting to shove him off of you. He doesn’t budge. “You weren’t giving me enough space to move!”

“You should’ve seen your face,” he says, dramatically wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “God, it was so funny.”

“Well, sorry I’m not as good at skating as you are, Mr. I Do Everything Perfectly The First Time,” you scoff, again trying to push him off. Semi cocks an eyebrow and smirks, settling his forearms on either side of your head. Your heart beats erratically at his nearness. “And can you please move? You’re crushing my lungs.”

“Nope.”

You scowl. The repressed irritation from weeks and weeks of trying to get on his good side strains at the boundaries of your self control. “Get off, Semi.”

“Make me.” His eyes gleam with silent laughter as you struggle for a moment, unable to do anything more than wiggle beneath him.

You huff, resting your head back down on the ice in defeat. “You’re fucking heavy, Eita. What did you do before this, eat a buffet out of business?”

Semi chuckles, and it’s a low, raspy sound that vibrates in your chest. He leans in close, angling his face slightly. His lips hover just above yours, and you can feel his breath fan over your mouth with his next words: “You’re so damn annoying.”

There’s a beat of silence. A heavy, stifling tension hangs in the air, a live wire with crackling electricity dancing across its taut line. You stare at him, unblinking. Daring him to do something.

And then he’s kissing you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other slipping under your shoulders to pull you flush against his chest. He kisses you hungrily, recklessly, like he’s been fasting and your lips are the first food he’s seen for months. You grip the back of his sweater as you kiss him back, fingers clutching at the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. He tastes like mint and something sweet; it’s messy, there’s tongue and teeth, and your jeans are wet from the ice— but at that moment, you think you’ve never been kissed better. A warmth spreads from his lips to yours, making its way down your throat into deep within your chest, where it burns your lungs and throbs almost painfully.

Though Semi Eita may be cold, his kisses are anything but.

When you break away he’s in quite the state, breathless with a flushed face and disheveled hair. You must look much the same, you think as you inhale deeply, blinking away the stars behind your eyes.

He sits up, resting on your hips. “Well, then.”

“Well, then,” you echo, propping yourself up on your forearms.

“You’re a shit kisser, too.” Semi grins when you gasp and punch him in the arm. You open your mouth to fire back, but before you can get a word out he leans down quick and kisses you again, soft and light. “It’s okay. We can practice.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“How generous of you.” You try to sound sarcastic but the words fall flat under Semi’s gaze. He smiles again and clambers onto his feet, offering you a hand.

“You wanna get dinner or something?”

--

You hold his hand on the walk out to his car, too, fingers tightly interlocked. He hums something under his breath, squeezing your palm every so often.

It’s freezing outside. As Semi fumbles with his keys, you rub your arms, trying in vain to brush away the stubborn goosebumps.

When you climb into the passenger seat, Semi lets you choose the radio station and, before he pulls out of the lot, he silently taps his cheek for a kiss. You roll your eyes but nonetheless lean over to give him a quick peck.

“Thanks,” he says, putting an arm over the back of your seat to pull out of the space. A slow acoustic song comes on, reminiscent of thick woolen blankets and cheerfully flickering flames.

The cold war is over, and you’re not quite sure who melted who.

“Mhm,” you hum. Semi offers you his upturned palm without taking his eyes of the road, so you slip your hand into his, enjoying the way his fingers envelop yours. There’s a light winter rain outside, washing away any remnants of frost on windowpanes and waterpipes.

But, frankly, you don’t really care.

[nevenabadr]

Sebastian Stan X Reader, Leather Love, Prologue

This is a prologue to Leather Love!

Note: English is not my first language.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

· Bliss, a novel about a magical baker.

· A Dash of Magic, a novel about a magical family of bakers

Word count: 2003

Warnings: Romance, fluff, sweet words, and few explicit words

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 🖤

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

You and Sebastian met at the Met Ball, an annual fundraising gala for the benefit of the Metropolitan, and you were their choice for creating the patisserie masterpieces for the evening.

As for Sebastian, the gala was enjoyable till the moment he was running away from the press.

Also, you were running away from the pressure of catering for your foremost important event of the season.

At the calmest corner of the hotel. You sat calming yourself down speaking to yourself, "I am seven stars rated Baker. One of the best around the world."

Little did you know that someone was taking a few steps and heading to that same calming place.

You were so close when you noticed that man lighting a cigarette "want one?"

He smiled at you.

"You know, that could kill you." You frowned.

"Better than anxiety" he scrunched his nose.

Smocking was something you tried once or twice for fun but never thought of as a tool for calming your nerves.

"I am Y/N by the way."

"Sebastian" he extended a hand to shake yours

You did not rush to tell him you know him and his works. You are a fan, but you still respect that he is already anxious.

"Can I ask, what are you so anxious about?" You calmly asked.

"Too many cameras, I am used to them, but I needed a moment for myself too."

You smirked "A fellow introvert, are not you?"

"Maybe," he giggled and kept smocking, "I did not get your name?"

"Your/F&L/Name, please to meet you, Sebastian." You smiled softly and noticed stars in his eyes.

"Are not you the owner of Bliss, the antique-styled bakery café in New York?" His voice was jammed with excitement.

It surprised you to be personally recognised by a star. It is always the brand that gets the enthusiasm, not you.

"Yes, in the flesh," you shrugged.

He was excited as a child just found his favourite lost toy "I love your patisserie. I even treat myself from Bliss each Sunday."

You were excited that he likes what you serve. "Have you tried our coffee?"

He hesitated "I am a Starbucks guy, sorry."

You laugh "even I, a Starbucks girl, just don't tell my workers." You winked.

"Well, look, I should prepare my surprise for the evening."

The cigarette was almost finished, and the conversation was not over, so as you started walking away, he called you back "Y/A, can I ask you for a favour."

You turned, "anything, Sebastian,"

"Can I take a VIP tour? That special thing, for me, please." He asked with puppy eyes.

He seems to be still nervous about going into the crowd. He is in the sport because of his new PR company. Adding, his ex-girlfriend fame and breakup impact was hard, especially the buzz all over Tumblr. He could not be around the media at that moment.

"Alright, come along, but no cameras or sharing my secrets." You seriously ordered

Indeed, that VIP tour was in a crowded kitchen. Everyone is busy creating a piece of heaven.

"There you are," a young man ran to you. His face draws worrying emotions and anger.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"It is 30 minutes to delivery."

Frank started walking by your side, describing something that was going wrong and you pointed "we have time"

It surprised Sebastian that Frank did not even notice him. There in the kitchen, you were the star to be followed and the boss to be obeyed.

"Sebastian, I need you to put on gloves and follow my lead"

It surprised him to take orders now

"Frank, you go being the rest of the cupcakes, I am preparing the icing myself."

As Frank left, you give Sebastian an explanation "my staff got something wrong, I have 30 minutes to icing 500 cupcakes."

"This is better than expected. I would love to help." His soothing voice calmed down your anxiety.

He took off his jacket. He looked stunning in everything, as you thought to yourself.

He was laughing and motivating everyone around him "coming people there is a Gala to conquer."

You were icing the side of the cupcake by side, forgetting how exhausting it was to do all of this work in a short time, yet the joy on his face made this worthwhile.

"I don't remember having this much fun in my life," he was icing a chocolate cupcake

"Are you sure this is your first time?" You said playfully

"I don't even know how to cook," he shrugged, "maybe, you can teach me."

The icing went well, but both of you stayed talking and he ignored the time

"Oh, look at the time, I have a to attend that dinner."

He was fixing his clothes and hair, running too fast out of the kitchen. "Thank you Y/A."

You wish for him to stay longer, as he made this chore easier for you, at least mentally.

As he was rushing out "can I book you for a private lesson? A date maybe?"

"I thought you would never ask." Giving him your private card and going back to your staff.

The next morning, he woke up thinking of how alive he felt around Y/A. He juggled her card between his fingers, thinking whether or not to call her. He settled on calling her after mid-day or at lunch.

He took a shower and got prepared for his morning run. It is never too late for one.

He took his usual route of running passing by the Bliss, something made him stop and look for her. Maybe you were tired from all her work, but it is Sunday and he deserves his weekly treat.

Behind the counter there you were, beautiful as he remembers her from the night before.

"May, I have a cupcake please,"

You were busy talking and giving instructions to one of her staff members, yet a familiar voice turned her head "Why not trying the Bakery choice of the day?"

"If the baker herself agrees, then I am sold." He flirted.

"On the house, sir,"

You served him English cake with coffee at his table.

He stood up when you approached "oh God! You brought it yourself!" he tried to give her a hand and serve himself at the table.

"Anything for my favourite guest." You smiled as did not sit.

He was puzzled and clueless "Y/A, wait."

"Anything else?" You smirked at him.

"Will you go out with me tonight, please?" He used the charm of his puppy eyes again.

"I would love to." You glowed.

Later that day, he texted

Sebastian: You did not take my number! 🧁

Y/A: Sebastian, hey, thank you! 🙏🏻

Sebastian: tonight, when and where?

Y/A: Sushi, maybe???

Sebastian: I was thinking of an Italian fancy restaurant, gotta impress the girl. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Y/A: Not this one lolz. Just anything you like. Surprise me.

Sebastian: Fancy, it will be!

Y/A: next time, I am choosing.

Sebastian: there will be next time, huh? 😉

Y/A: haha, I've got to go. Sunday means work.

Sebastian: see ya tonight.

At your house, you are confused about what to wear.

"It is a fancy date with a handsome man that happens to be a star" you were worried, every ex you had was not even close to Sebastian's sweetness. You know that there is always a catch. This time, it might be you and your busy schedule.

You texted him your address. He arrived before his time with ten minutes holding flowers at your door.

He was dressed in a slim fit navy suit without a tie.

"You look beautiful," he complimented your little black dress and heels.

The dinner went well. Both if shared stories from your past, trying to make a career, and how hard the world is becoming.

"Baking is great but applying for investment is hellish," you discussed the situation with coming at the top.

"Your food should be decorated with prizes. I believe you won many."

He teased, as he knew that you were part of a reality show for bakers.

"It was a phase, now this is the real world." You exhaled gloomily.

Your phone ringing cut off your conversation. You excused him for taking this call.

You left the table, yet, arriving with a miserable 10 minutes later.

"Is everything okay?" He nervously asked.

You looked down at your food "I am sorry, Sebastian, I have to go"

You were anxious and irritated

"What's wrong?" He tried to soothe you.

"My angel investor is having a party. He needs me to prepare the cakes and cookies by myself." You were about to cry.

"Okay, you are pressures." He smirked playfully, trying to change your mood.

"He needs them tomorrow by noon." You asserted upon the last word.

"See, I was going to ask you to teach me, so why not today,"

He called for the check.

Sebastian drove you back to your bakery. It was almost empty by that time. Just two workers and you took Sebastian to the kitchen.

You prepared the ingredients on the counters. Sebastian asked if he can help with getting the blenders and mixing bowls. You pointed at a higher shelf opposite to you.

"Thank you, Sebastian," you were about to leave his car.

"Not yet, doll, we have cookies to prepare," he said as the cute dork he is.

You were guiding him to which thing is to add to the blender first and he was a curious student.

"Exactly, why are you hand blending that?" Pointing at the chocolate mixture in front of you.

"Because we make these with a dash of magic and bliss," you spook magically and seriously.

He paused for a moment "and I am not magic"

You raised an eyebrow, "you are my apprentice, yet, hand blend the cookies."

You came by his side, your chest at his back, and guided his arm to hand to blend the cookies.

He was blazing with fire and excitement. Ultimately, he felt at peace.

“An excellent exercise to those guns.” He teased you.

"Not as a baker's," you guided his free hand to something, "now take a pinch of magic... chocolate chips and add them."

Both of you rounded up and finished everything was in the oven. You sat on the floor drinking wine and chatting further, till the alarm of the oven called it done.

"My cookies" Sebastian pulled them out of the over, "taste what the master baked."

"Apprentice," you asserted as you pulled your cakes out of the other oven.

You let everything rest. It was almost the morning.

"They will come I pick them at 9 am, no time for home." You yawned

"Can I drive you?" He yawned too, and his eyes were sleepy.

"Cookie, you looked exhausted." It was the first time to call him so, he was surprised and delighted.

"I have a coach in my office."

Both of you laid tired and exhausted from the long day. Spontaneously he put a kiss on your forehead, you whispered at his lips "I have a better one" you took his lips on your own and shared the sweetest romantic first kiss.

"Sweet dreams, apprentice Cookie." You laid to sleep in his arms.

"Sweet dreams Y/A." He smiled against your lips and laid a kiss goodnight on them.

Yet, Sebastian had to make the last thing before he sleeps.

Guys, I made cookies

That was his message to the group chat with his best friends.

Chris: cookies, is that's a new term for sex?

Anthony: WTH @Cheis. If Sebastian mentions cookies, then he really made cookies.

Sebastian: I baked cookies

Christ: good for you, pal.

Anthony: you are waking me up at 6 in the morning for cookies.

Sebastian: and a kiss.

Anthony: my man, you should have gone for the pussy 💪🏻

Chris: language!

Sebastian: Good night oldie issues and smarty pants. 🤣🤣🤣

Sebastian looked at your peaceful face, laid another kiss on your forehead, then departed into a deep sleep.

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

Tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@221bshrlocked (awaiting your feedback)

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@buckys-fairy