#And next tri I will instead do three online hours. Unless I can find an elective for one of them

[astral-catastrophe]

I am going to make poor decisions in regards to my class schedule

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 45

First / Previous / Next

The scream rang through the frigate. Northern ran down the hall and burst into Fen's room where she found her sitting up panting, covered in sweat.

"What is it? What happened?"

"T-The Nanites. They spoke to me." Fen tried to control her breathing, taking huge breaths and holding them for a moment, releasing them through her nose. "They said they're not going to devour our dimension, but they need to Gates to help search for a different one to devour."

"Devour?"

"They are a distributed intelligence inside the Nanites. They consume everything to make more of themselves. They said their own dimension was not like ours - fewer stars and planets - and they found a white hole to power themselves and the Gates, but now they need more energy." Fen continued to try and control her breathing, but she started panting instead. "Northern" she gasped.

Northern grabbed Fen and hugged her tightly. As she held her, Fen's breathing slowly recovered and tears started flowing down her cheeks. "What are we going to do?"

"The first thing we're going to do-" As she stood, Fen thought for a moment that Northern seemed taller. She exuded confidence that made Fen feel like she could fix things. "-is get out of here. No way we can stay here Helen and the Empire. The second thing we're going to do is go find Gord."

"But we don't know where he is."

"I've got an idea." Northern flashed a grin and winked as she strode out of the room. Fen sighed and flopped back onto the bed.

"Stormy! If you're not connected up to the ship, it's time. We're going.

"Going where, Northern?" Stormy's voice came from the PA.

"Tell you when we're out of here. Are we still on the Dreadnought's umbilical?" Northern sat in the center seat on the Command deck. Her fingers danced over the panels built into the arms of the chair. All over the ship, there were sounds of activity as the reactor came back online and other systems started to spin up.

"We are. I'm spoofing their sensors right now, so long as you keep the running lights off they won't know we're running hot until they come up to the airlock."

"Ideally, I want to be gone before they even know we left. What time is it on the ship?"

"Hour or so before lunch."

"Shit. That means Helen will probably be coming by soon."

"Speak of the devil-" Stormy took over one of the large screens on the command deck, and changed the view to an external camera. Helen Raaden was entering the hangar right then, flanked by a brace of guards, all armed with rifles. "Odd she should come armed like that on her own ship, isn't it?"

"Not if she wasn't going to let our friend have any chance of making her own decision." Northern tapped more on her pads, and the whining whirr of the slug thrower spinning out was heard. On the screen, Northern watched them all stop moving suddenly and the guards raise their rifles as they surrounded Helen.

"After careful consideration, we have decided to reject your offer, 'Admiral' Helen Raaden." Stormy said over the PA. "We are leaving."

Helen's eyes could melt a ship's hull. She started shouting at the guards and three of them peeled off and ran back the way they came while some of them opened fire on Stormy. The rounds plinking off the hull sounded like hail.

"Northern! They're bringing in the big guns. Unless we do something we're holed." Stormy's camera flicked, and Northern saw a large slug thrower unfolding from the ceiling of the hangar and swung towards them, it's double barrel staring at them menacingly.

"Shit shit shit!" Northern got up from her seat and ran over to a station in front of her. She reached deep underneath the workstation and manipulated a lever. A hooting, brassy alarm started up all over the ship and a binnacle rose out of the floor in front of the commander's seat. She ran back and as she sat, pedals unfolded and her seat belted her in tightly. "Stormy! You concentrate on countermeasures, I'm going to fly us out."

"You're putting me on manual? I knew you were odd Northern Lights, but I had no idea you took complete leave of your senses!"

"You worry about those slug throwers, Stormy Days, I'll worry about getting us out of the hangar in once piece." Northern grasped the two control sticks that stuck out from near the top of the binnacle and placed her feet on the pedals. With a twist of thrusters, Stormy lifted off the deck and started to slide slowly, wobbling slightly.

As she did so, nobody noticed Helen, but the cameras recorded it. As she stood there, shouting and ordering people around, the dust and debris in the hangar swirled around moving towards her. While she stood there, it formed up behind her making a set of gossamer wings that began to glow slightly.

Fen sat up sharply. She started to move awkwardly, in fits and starts, as if her limbs weren't entirely her own to control.

We tried to talk you into this Fen. We gave you every opportunity to go along with it. We would have given you anything you wanted, let you rule however you sought fit. But, you leave us no choice. You are Empress and you will rule.

"N-No." Fen's voice sounded weak, blurry. "S-stop. I don't want to do this."

The time for bargaining has long passed.

As the thrusters kicked in, Fen wobbled. Ship's gravity took over, and things were smooth quickly enough, but the Nanites noticed the change.

Too soon! We have to leave now.

Fen broke into a stiff legged run, and took off towards the airlock.

Back on the command deck, Northern struggled to control the ship while Stormy handled point defense. It seemed like for every gun they shot at, two more appeared. "Northern this isn't working. I'm going to try and blow a hole and get us out of here!"

"You're welcome to give it a shot Stormy, I'm out of ideas."

"Uh, Northern?" Zhe's head lifted from the console she was sitting at. "What about the wormhole generator?"

"What about it, Zhe? Is that broken now too?"

"No, but why don't we use it?"

"Inside the hangar? That's madness!"

"Why?"

"Because it would severely damage the-" Northern stopped and listened to what she was saying. "It would damage Helen's ship and help prevent them from chasing after us! Zhe, you're brilliant! Stormy, compute a link out of here. Doesn't matter where, we can link again once we're safe."

"On it Northern. Computing solution now."

Fen's body reached the airlock. As the ship was maneuvering, it was locked. Shaking, her hand went up to the unlock pad and she leaned in, using her shoulder to push hard on the pad. After a moment, the light turned green and both doors snapped open.

The noise was intense. The thrusters were loud enough on their own, but that combined with the chatter of the guns and the movement of the air and shouts from the crew made hearing anything impossible. Bending her knees down low to build energy, Fen sprang out of the airlock.

"Northern! I have a solution. Just let me know when to link."

"Do it now, Stormy!"

"Linking away in 3... 2..." Stormy gasped. "Northern! The ventral airlock! It's-"

As the wormhole opened and surrounded Stormy Days, the ship wasn't the only thing that linked away. The air, dust, floor of the hangar, some of the side plates also linked away. Everyone in the hanger was dazzled by the wormhole, and then deafened as the air stolen by Stormy Days rushed back in.

Everyone was knocked over by the force except Helen. If anyone was watching, they would have seen something like her wings swing in front of her to direct the force around her. As air rushed into the hangar to replace what Stormy had taken, sound returned to the large room. There were sirens and klaxons and other alarms sounding all at once.

Helen clicked her comm. "Silence those alarms. We know where the damage is. Get fire teams down to the hangar and run diagnostics on the reactors. I know they're under us. I need Medical too, we have injured. Bring stretchers."

"Yes, Admiral!" The voice on the other end was cool and professional. Helen nodded to herself. She tried to make sure she surrounded herself with cool and professional people. Ignoring her guards who were coming back to consciousness slowly, she strode over to the body laying on the floor near the crater left by Stormy's departure. She kneeled down. "Fen."

Fen's body rustled and she moaned and tried to push herself upright.

"Don't move Fen. I'm getting medical down here. We'll make sure you're all right."

"W-wha-"

"Shhhhh, shhhh." Helen stroked Fen's hair. It even felt like Melody's. She smiled to herself. Everything was coming together. Soon enough, they would be back on track. "We're going to make sure you're not injured, but the Nanites should have taken the majority of the impact for you. You'll be good as new in a few days, Empress."

[therealnightcity]

16 for Avi, 22 for Hiro, 38 for Ares, and A for all three of them? :3

Character asks for @a-pirate 💕🥰

Avi:

16.) What makes their stomach turn?

Avi struggles with people or variables that are out of his control. It's something he attempts to mitigate by being controlling--it decreases his anxiety about a situation, and makes its outomes more predictable. It's reflected in his environments--something he and Hiro share in common. Avi's spaces always kept clean, and he is very particular about things looking a certain way, and doesn't want them deviating from that. He's practiced at keeping a lid on the facade, but it gets under his skin, in a way that many things do, seemingly without effort.

Hiro:

22.) How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

Hiro struggles with jealousy. It's a feeling that he's not accustomed to, and usually finds himself jealous of situations instead of people. So when he does feel jealous of others, it takes him a while to realize what the sensation is, and tries his best to shove it down. He's not always successful and it comes out as a lot of pettiness, and and resentment--tiny remarks what slip out, or avoiding the situation entirely. He doesn't enjoy the feeling--he's supposed to be the one making people jealous, not the other way around. If someone asks, he'd be the first to deny it, even if it was blatantly obvious. Possessivness while it does exist, is usally very well-hidden, and something he takes pains to keep that way, unless directly confronted. It tends to be more obvious with long-term partners, and it mannifests in physical clinginess. It doesn't help that his primary love language is physical touch, so he likes being in his partners space, even if they're not interacting. There's also a tendency towards enjoying marks, whether leaving them or his partner doing so--a little bit of reasssurance of their presence.

Ares:

38.) What memory do they revisit the most often? 

There's a couple memories that stand out for Ares. The first is when she was able to get her own place, outside of the nomad clans, where she could work on her cars, and have that independence to do what she wants, when she wants, and not always have a well-meaning but smothering family looking over her shoulder. She likes being able to set her own schedule, and work weird hours of the night, and her clients don't care, as long as their items make it back to them in better shape then they started.

The memory of her first time in Night City also stands out--it was an overwhelming wall of noise and color, and even though it was only a quick trip to pick up supplies, it stayed with her for weeks. She's already planning her next trip, couldn't explore everything she wanted to the first time, and has no clue what sort of other people or adventures wait for her in the city

And for all of them: A) Why are you excited about this character?

Hiro:

Hiro is the first of the three created, and by far the character who I've put the most time and passion into. I've always enjoyed writing characters, even if I didn't share them with others and they were just in my head, or lived in word docs, but Hiro was the first who I talked about, not just with people I know irl (and who are patient enough to listen to me) but people online, and in a fandom community too. Hiro is proof that I love to create, to worldbuild, and can continually build and develop a character--he's gotten a lot better realized, and fleshed out over time, and went through significant changes since I first created him, and he's the one that got me back into creating, and not just writing for myself but for others too.

Avi:

Avi started as a foil to Hiro, and although he still is, in some ways, he's developed from plot device, and flavor from Hiro's past, to his own character, and to one who I've gotten very attached to. I'd intended on killing him off, at some point, but this very quickly proved not to be the case, and I'm glad I didn't. Avi is exciting because he's so different from Hiro--he's more challenging for me to write, because he has this coldness (initially) and makes decisions that have me going 'what ARE YOU DOING? THEY'RE TRYING TO HELP YOU.' But it's been really exciting too, getting out of my comfort zone a little, and writing characters who's personalities might not mesh with my own, and still presenting them as human, complex characters, who can't be painted as all bad, even if they don't always do the right thing.

Ares:

Ares is the character I had the most struggles with envisioning. I'd always seen Hiro as the youngest sibling, and I knew one of them had avoided the peril of the two brothers, and was born into a life, while not perfect, wasn't as tumultuous. I knew early on I wanted her to be a nomad, and a bit of her backstory, but her personality was challenging for me to develop, and she went through a lot of visual changes before she was in a place where I was happy with her. Most of my characters write themselves in a way, and it feels more like they tell me who *they* want to be, and not the other way around, and Ares it was always a struggle not to project bits of myself there. I think it's impossible for me to never do that with my characters, and all of them have little pieces of me too, quirks or favorite things, or traits that they're not proud of--but Ares was extra challenging for me not to go too far with this, and had to keep revisiting her character and going, 'is this what she'd really do, or what I'm just saying she would.' She's the proof to me that character creation can be really challenging sometimes, but that it's worth it, seeing one come to life, that feels genuinely themselves. She's my newest character, and the one I've just started to flesh out more, and I'm so excited to see how her personality and motives deepen even more.

[hookingminor]

4 times his friends posted you on their instagram + 1 time he did - mat barzal

a/n: I wrote this literally back in july so lets just ignore how idealistic this is regarding quarantine but im a slut for some barzy this is all fluff

word count: 4,733

summary: like the title says, some friends (with benefits?) to lovers + a tyson cameo, fluffy summer quarantine fic

tagging @davidpastrsnack​ so kate can get on the barzy train

-

1.

To say the whole quarantine thing was an inconvenience was an understatement. School had ended online, your summer internship was cancelled, and it seemed like your summer would turn into an uneventful couple of months stuck in your apartment in, probably, the worst place to be stuck in during a pandemic: New York City.

Or so you thought.

You’d planned on having the most boring summer ever until your friend, Mat, had invited you to hole up away with him and a few friends in a lake house back in Vancouver. Well, friend was a loose term. The two of you were friends… just ones that kissed occasionally… and sometimes more than kissed. You’d met him about a year ago at a bar while he was out with his teammates after a game. A cliche meeting, but you hit it off instantly. Instead of ending up in his bed at the end of the night (which you would eventually end up at after a couple months), it turned into an exchange of numbers and an invitation to hang out later in the week.

You hadn’t thought anything of it at first, just thinking he was being friendly and wanting to end the conversation, so you were surprised to get a text the next day from an unknown number asking if you’d wanted to go on a bike ride.

Flashforward a year later and the two of you still went on bike rides together. At least, up until the pandemic started.

When the text came telling you to pack your bags for a month or so, you thought he was joking. Surely he couldn’t have meant you to join him in Vancouver over the summer? You were proven wrong when he showed up at your apartment the next day, two coffees in his hand.

“Uh, hi, Mathew,” you said hesitantly, opening your door to reveal your disheveled state, having just woken up.

“Why are you dressed like that? We have a plane to catch in four hours,” he said, pushing himself through your door, uninvited, to set the coffees on the counter.

“What are you doing here? What plane? You’re not supposed to be going out,” you reprimanded him for showing up unannounced and in the middle of quarantine.

“I told you we’re going to Vancouver, I know you read my text. Now let’s hurry up and pack, we gotta get going,” Mat rushed, already on the way to your bedroom.

You followed him after a brief moment once you’d processed what was going on. Mat had already pulled out your suitcase and set it on top of your bed by the time you entered the door. He was in the middle of rifling through your drawers and grabbing random garments to throw into the suitcase when you’d spoken again.

“You’re actually serious about this?”

“Of course I am. What better things do you have to do in a city on lockdown for an entire summer? Honestly, I’m doing you a favor,” he explained easily, turning back to grab more items.

“Oh, you’re doing me a favor? Thank you, Mat, for saving me from a summer of suffering. It’s not like I had other plans to find different internships or focus on my summer classes,” you replied sarcastically.

Mat rolled his eyes. “I am doing you a favor, and you’re doing me a favor by going. I need a hot piece of ass to get me through this, or I will lose my mind.” You slugged him on the shoulder in offense, but all he did was chuckle.

“And anyways, you can still do your classes in Vancouver. Instead of doing them locked in this apartment, you can do them lounged out under the Canadian sun. Preferably in a bikini,” he finished. You slugged his arm again, harder this time.

“In fact, you should take the red bikini, it makes your tits look amazing,” he said, noticing you shuffling through your swimsuits. You rolled your eyes at him but grabbed the red one anyway along with a couple others.

With both of you folding and packing, your bags were ready to go in record time.

“Alright, baby, let’s go.” And so you were off.

A week had gone by in total bliss. As much as you hated to admit it, Mat was right. Vacationing in Vancouver in a secluded lake house was a lot better than being alone in your apartment, even if you did still have classes to do. Mat teased you about it, but he always left you alone for a few hours in the day for you to focus on your work. Unless he really wanted something… like right now.

Mat had joined you laying on the couch while you were in the middle of annotating a book for class. He wiggled his way between your arms, causing you to break your hold on your book. He rested his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your middle, and nuzzled his face into your neck. Joining your hands back to your book and bringing your highlighter to the page, you continued to underline phrases you’d come back to later. A couple minutes passed in silence before Mat started sighing. And then he sighed again.

“What do you want?” you huffed out, closing your book with the pen marking your page.

“Let’s go swimming,” he said, pushing up to his elbows to look at your face.

“I have to finish, like, three more chapters today,” you explained.

“You can do that later. I want to go swimming now,” Mat whined.

“You know you sound like a petulant child right now, right?” you asked, moving a hand to his head, pushing his hair back as he pouted.

“Stop using big words on me. Let’s swim,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You paused to think about it for a moment, “Hmm… okay, I guess,” you said with a smile. Mat returned your smile with one of his own before hopping up to drag you to your room to change. It didn’t take much to convince you to swim. It was a really nice day out, and you didn’t really care to finish reading about 17th century philosophy.

You changed into your red bikini, Mat swapped his shorts for a pair of swim trunks, and threw on a backwards baseball cap. You went out back to join the rest of his friend group, who were in the process of loading up the boat with supplies and equipment.

“Oh, look, if it isn’t Brainiac and the Beast. Are you two finally going to go boating with us?” Tyson shouted from the dock. You rolled your eyes at his nickname they created for you and Mat. It had only been a week in Vancouver, but the chirps about you and school were tired by now.

“Princess here wants to swim in the pool, maybe next time!” you shouted back, pointing to Mat.

They laughed at your response, turning their attention back to the boat and running supplies to and from the house. You turned your attention back to Mat, who was taking off his hat and was about two seconds away from jumping in the pool.

“Mathew, stop!” you yelled out, “Get your ass over here!”

“What is it?” he asked, stopping just short of the deep end. He grumbled before marching over to you.

“You need to put sunscreen on first, dumbass,” you reprimanded. As you turned your back to grab the bottle of sunscreen, he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mat,” you said sharply, turning back to face him with a raised eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

You ignored him, opening the cap and squeezing lotion onto your hands. You gestured him to turn around, and you spread the lotion over it, making sure to rub it into his shoulders.

“I don’t see why I have to put sunscreen on. It’s not even that hot outside,” he muttered.

“First of all, you’re a dumbass. Second of all, heat doesn’t automatically mean the UV rays aren’t strong. And lastly, you’re white, baby, you’ll burn like a sun-dried tomato and being in water only increases the amount of sun you’re exposed to,” you explained, reaching up to rub some on his face.

“Sorry, Miss Meteorologist,” he grumbled, clearly not happy he’d lost this argument.

“One of us has to have brains. We can’t all get by on our good looks and skating ability,” you replied, slapping his cheeks when you were done for good measure.

“Okay, well, if you’re finally done,” you nodded in confirmation, “Let’s go.” He picked you up from under your thighs and ran at full speed towards the pool before you could even process what was happening. You screamed his name in protest begging him to put you down, claiming you hadn’t had time to put on sunscreen yet. He ignored you as he jumped into the deep end, dragging you with him.

You emerged from the water clinging to Mat’s wet body, your hair sopping and hanging over your face like you had come straight out of the movie The Grudge. Mat was laughing at your chaotic look, knowing you were well pissed at him. You jumped higher in the water on top of him to dunk his head under and tried your best to drown him.

It wasn’t until you were relaxing on the couch later that night doing your routinely social media scroll that you saw one of the guys recorded your sunscreen interaction by the pool, you calling Mat a dumbass, and him throwing you in the pool onto their instagram story with a caption “all these two do is fight” with some laughing crying emojis added for effect.

2.

After a long day or hiking, you’d immediately crashed on the couch once you’d gotten back to the house, not bothering to walk all the way to your room. It was only early in the afternoon but you’d been out since sunrise, and dealing with people for hours on end had drained you. The group laughed at you as you plopped your body down onto the couch, curling your head under your arm instead of grabbing the pillow two feet away from you. The rest of them gathered in the kitchen, refueling their bodies with assorted snacks as they started popping open bottles of beer, ready to start the night. It seemed that even an entire day on their feet had not emptied them of their, seemingly endless, energy.

“Jesus Christ, we hiked for, like, six hours and you’re all still bouncing off the walls,” you sighed deeply.

“We’re about to go hit the boat and go water skiing, too. I’m assuming you’re too tired to join us?” Tyson teased.

“I will not be joining you because unlike some people, I need a nap. Now get out of here, you’re all giving me a headache,” you said, pinching your fingers on the bridge of your nose to emphasize your point.

They all snickered but kept quiet as they shuffled around, packing up more food to take outside. You heard the sliding door shut and close a few times as they ran in and out before it was finally silent. You let out a sigh of relief as you took solace in the calm quiet.

That was until you felt a pair of arms shifting you closer to the edge of the couch. You peeked one eye open to see Mat rolling your body over to give him some space as he climbed over your body to nestle himself between you and the back cushions.

“Not going out on the boat?” You asked as he tucked a pillow under the both of your heads and pulled a blanket over your bodies.

“No. They’re exhausting. I need some time for myself,” Mat replied, wrapping his arm around your middle to pull you into his chest.

“No offense, but if you’re with me, you’re not by yourself,” you explained, closing your eyes again as you settled into a comfortable position.

“Yeah, but you’re you. You don’t exhaust me,” he said quietly. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. Within a few seconds you heard Mat’s breathing even out, and you followed quickly behind him into a deep sleep.

-

A couple hours passed in a dreamless sleep when you heard the sliding of doors and laughter travel through the house. It stirred you from your sleep and you both shifted around, letting out displeased groans.

“Are they both still asleep?” You heard one of them ask from the kitchen. Neither of you wanted to answer in hopes they would leave you two to continue sleeping.

You were sadly mistaken.

“Hey! Sleeping beauties! Time to get up!” Tyson shouted from somewhere above you.

You both groaned out a “Fuck off, Tyson,” without opening your eyes, both of you giving him the middle finger. Tyson laughed to himself and you expected him to keep bothering you, but you heard his footsteps lead away from the couch. You turned over on your other side, tucking your face into Mat’s neck before falling back asleep.

-

When you woke up later that evening, you checked instagram again to see Tyson posted a new story. It was the video of him bothering you two and flipping him off with a caption that said “I get no respect around here :(“

3.

It had been raining all day. Which meant everyone was stuck inside watching movies and eating pizza. It didn’t take long for you to get bored of lounging on the couch, especially when all they wanted to do was watch Fast and Furious movies. You sat on the loveseat you were sharing with Mat, and you distracted yourself from the boring movie by tangling your hands in your hair, French braiding the strands into pigtails mindlessly. You unbraided and rebraided your hair into a fishtail after the pigtails, and then into a regular braided ponytail after that. You let yourself get caught up in daydreams as you stared blankly at the TV when Mat started tugging on your leg. Dropping your braid, you finished tying it off with a hair tie and turned to look at him.

“Let me practice on you,” Mat said quietly.

“Practice what?” You asked.

“Braiding,” he said, shuffling to sit upright. He tried to gently push you off the couch until you got the hint and moved to sit between his legs on the floor.

“You think you can do it?” You asked, ready to offer him a demonstration.

“I’ve been watching you for the past half hour, I got this,” he replied, pulling out your hair tie. You rolled your eyes at his confidence, but let him continue unraveling the strands.

Every few minutes Mat would sigh exasperatedly before pulling out the twists he’d made to start over. Eventually, he’d almost gotten all the way to the end of your hair before he sighed again, clearly fed up by how long this was taking him. You didn’t say anything as he restarted for a third time, going for a straight back braid instead of a French braid.

After another ten minutes, Mat had finally completed his simple braid, tying your hair off with the tie. He tapped your shoulder to indicate he was done, and you pulled the long tail over your shoulder to look at it.

It was a braid.

An extremely loose one where he mixed up the strand order in a couple places, but a braid nonetheless. You turned around to get back up on the couch, and you were met with his triumphant smile.

“Good job, bud,” you complimented, leaving the braid in as you resumed your previous position on the couch.

-

You checked your phone to find a notification of a new story tag. You opened the app to see a picture of you on the floor, staring at the TV while Mat had his hands twisted in your hair and a confused look on his face and tongue poking out of his mouth. Next to your instagram tag was “he’s been knotting her hair on purpose for 20 minutes now”

4.

Your final exams for the summer classes you were taking were in a week. Finals stressed you out more than anything else in the world, and when you were stressed, you did a lot of baking. A lot of baking. After finishing your finals study schedule and nearly breaking down almost twice because of the amount you had to get done, you decided to start baking instead of going to sleep. So, at 3 in the morning when everyone was asleep, you’d  turned on the oven and brought out the bowls.

It began with a few dozen cookies. You figured everyone could at least enjoy the cookies. Who didn’t like cookies?

Cookies turned into muffins, muffins into cupcakes, and then cupcakes into pies. By the time everyone was waking up, it was nearly eleven in the morning. You’d gone to the store twice and had taken a few twenty minute naps while you waited for your desserts baked in the oven. And right now, you were in the middle of finishing off some cinnamon rolls for breakfast

“Oh my god, what the hell happened here?” Mat had asked with a scared expression, taking note of the disastrous kitchen. You didn’t answer him as you were topping off the rolls with some icing.

A few more bodies had gathered in the kitchen and began to fill the seats at the countertop while they watched you with worried eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently, placing the plates of cinnamon rolls in front of all of them. Their eyes followed you carefully as you pulled more goods out of the oven where you were keeping them warm. Plate after plate you set on the counter, all the cookies and muffins and cakes.

“How long have you been up?” Tyson asked cautiously. You swear you’ve never heard him use a softer voice than right now.

“I’m not sure. I never went to sleep, I guess? What time is it now?” You asked, pulling out glasses for orange juice.

“Nearly noon. You seriously didn’t sleep?” Tyson asked. The others had delved into the confections, eyes bouncing between the two of you as they stuffed their faces.

“She’s stress baking,” Mat replied quietly, helping himself to a cinnamon roll.

“What the hell is tress baking?” One of the other guys asked.

“Yeah she does this when she’s stressed. Usually when finals are coming up,” Mat said, directing it more towards you than his friend. You gave him a sheepish look, deciding not to comment since he already answered for you.

Mat was used to your stress baking as it resulted in you showing up at his place in the middle of the night with bags full of pastries in the late hours of the evening. It was always against his diet and he frequently gave most of your desserts to his neighbor, but he could never tell you no when you arrived with gifts.

“Well, I’m all out of flour, so, I’m going to run to the store again to get some more supplies so I can make a chocolate cake later,” you said hurriedly.

You did a quick double check of the kitchen, flashing all the guys a bright smile before heading out the door with your purse in hand, all of them staring until the front door shut behind you.

-

When you came back, you found Mat in the kitchen doing the dishes and nearly all the sweets you’d baked earlier were eaten or wrapped and put away. Maybe there was a plus side to being in a home with five other people.

“Mat, you don’t have to do that,” you said, setting your groceries down and hip checking him away from the sink.

“You’re already stressed, I figured doing the dishes would take away some of that,” he said with a shrug. He continued rinsing out some bowls as you gave him a small smile.

The two of you continued to wash the dishes in silence, moving to clean the countertops when you were done. After half an hour, the mess you’d made was gone and any signs of a baking breakdown had been erased.

It was a shame you were about to tear up the kitchen all over again.

“How about this,” Mat said, noticing the frown on your face at the thought of making another mess, “Let’s have a competition.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m listening.”

“You said you were making a chocolate cake, right? How about we see who can make the better cake,” Mat propositioned.

You raised both your eyebrows this time. You both knew you were the better baker by a long shot. You did have this same breakdown at least twice a year. You weren’t even sure Mat knew how to make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or included possible salmonella-inducing ingredients.

You knew what he was really trying to do. He was trying to distract you from all the stress, and he knew you couldn’t turn down a competition. You were just as bad as him when it came to winning. Thankfully, this was something you knew you’d win.

“Fine, but I hope you’re prepared to lose,” you agreed with a smile.

“I don’t know, I have been practicing my cooking skills lately,” he said, grabbing the bowls he’d just dried off.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied with an eye roll and heavy sarcasm.

You joined him in gathering all the ingredients and materials on the counter, setting up your respective stations. Mat divided the workspace in half, drawing a line in flour which made you laugh. You split the bowls between the sides and set up the ingredients on the second counter just like an actual cooking show.

“Okay, ground rules first. Half an hour to make the cakes, we bake them at the same time, and then another half hour for decorating at the end,” you explained, tying your hair back in a ponytail. Mat nodded at your statement and set a timer on his phone for 30 minutes.

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“Go!”

-

After about two hours, your creations were done. Well, they were supposed to be. Mat’s cake looked more or less like a brown lump coated in frosting and stripes. You’d tried your best to decorate yours with small chocolate roses, but you could’ve turned out a plain cake and probably would have done better.

“I think I won,” you stated confidently.

“You’re not allowed to decide, you’re biased! I’ll make a poll on my story,” Mat said, going to grab his phone.

“You can’t do that, your followers are going to pick yours.”

“Fine, we’ll get someone else to do it— Josty! Come here,” Mat called to his friend passing through the kitchen. He hesitantly walked over to where you were, not wanting to come in the middle of whatever you two were shouting about.

“We need you to make an instagram poll to see who’s cake looks better. Oh, and you’re going to taste test them,” you said, picking up your cake to pose for a picture as Mat did the same. Tyson sighed before realizing you two were serious and he opened his app to take a picture.

He added the photo to his story with a poll asking “Which one is better?” With two options, Y/N’s or Mat’s.

After you set the cakes back down, Tyson picked up a fork before stabbing them to pick out a chunk from each. He ate yours first, nearly moaning at the taste.

“Holy shit, this is, like, the best cake I’ve ever eaten,” Tyson said, shoveling down another forkful. You gave Mat a shit-eating grin.

“Okay, okay, try mine now,” Mat said, displeased. Tyson rolled his eyes before forking out some of his.

“Uh,” he coughed, “it’s a little,” cough, “dry.”

“What? No, it’s not! Let me try,” Mat shouted, outraged, and grabbed Tyson’s fork to try for himself.

It took him two seconds before he was spitting the cake into a napkin.

“Fine. You win,” Mat conceded, throwing a dish towel against the counter in mock fury.

You gloated for another 5 minutes, pointing out Mat’s terrible baking skills as Tyson continued to eat your cake and laugh at Mat.

You won the instagram poll too.

+ 1

It was the last week before you and Mat were flying back to New York. The past month had passed quickly, and Mat needed to get back for the start of training camps. As the summer began to end, the whole crew thought they’d spend one last day on the boat before everyone started parting ways.

It’s not like you were opposed to being on boats, but when all the guys did was water sports and no one wanted to slow down to teach you, it wasn’t as fun.

Today, however, had been quite calm as you sat against the front of the boat, a seltzer in hand as you watched Tyson wakeboarding in the back. Mat was curled up behind you as you leaned back against his chest, tanned skin shining in the summer sun. You reached back to grab the baseball cap off his head, placing it on yours to shield your eyes from the sun. You’d forgotten to bring sunglasses, and you figured Mat could part with his hat since he had a pair.

The day passed peacefully as all the guys took turns until it was sunset. Mat had joined you back on the seat, skin wet from just getting out of the water. He wrapped you in his arms before pulling you onto his lap, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, Tys, take a picture of us real quick,” Mat said, shoving his phone into Tyson’s chest.

You thought nothing of it, you and Mat had taken many pictures together, and this was no different. Mat rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your stomach as you both gave your cheesiest smiles to the camera. A quick shutter indicated the picture was taken and Tyson gave Mat his phone back.

-

Mat called your name from your bed as you stood in the adjoined bathroom, finishing your nightly routine.

“Hey, do you mind if I post that picture of us on my instagram?” Mat called out.

“The one from the boat? Why?” You asked, drying off your face with a towel.

“It’s a cute picture,” he shrugged when you reentered the room.

“People are going to start talking if you do,” you warned with a cautious tone.

He paused for a second.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Mat asked quietly, looking up to meet your eyes.

You stayed silent as you climbed in under the covers.

“What are you trying to say, Mat?”

He took a deep breath, “I think you’re amazing, you know that. And we’ve been friends for so long, it kind of feels natural, doesn’t it?” His fingers began tapping against the sheets anxiously as he held his breath and waited for your response.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body around to fully face him.

“It does,” you agreed, “But if you want us to be something more, you’re going to have to ask me on a date first.”

“A date? After I’ve already gotten you into bed? What’s the point?” You knew he meant it as a joke since he could barely finish the sentence without laughing, but you gently slapped his head as he began to apologize.

“I’m kidding!” He said between chuckles, “Will you go on a date with me once we get back to New York and it’s safe to go out again?”

“I’d love to, Mat,” you replied, leaning in to give him a sweet kiss.

“I’m still going to post that photo tomorrow, though,” he said after a short pause, smiling against your lips.

-

The next day when Mat had gone on a fishing trip with the guys, you saw a notification pop up on your phone.

“@barzal97 tagged you in a photo”

You unlocked your phone.

“Isolation isn’t so bad when you have this girl to spend it with”

[juliandev0rak]

I feel like how someone does grocery shopping says a lot about who they are, might I request the LIs grocery shopping at Walmart? Like, what section they go to first, do they buy in bulk once a week or sparingly throughout, etc.? Thank youuu!

oooh i love this request, thank you @arcanecadenza 💗

I’m basing this off of Super Walmart which has basically any section or item you could imagine!

Asra

Asra is the type to go to the grocery store daily just to pick up a few things at a time

he thinks grocery shopping is fun and likes to take his time perusing the aisles to see what unique ingredients he can find

he goes to the produce section first and very carefully selects his fruits and vegetables for peak ripeness, and he loves to watch when the produce gets sprayed with water like a little rain shower 🥺

he also likes to walk through the home section to look for comfy throw pillows or scented candles

if you come along on the shopping trip he’ll turn it into an event™️ and will suggest getting tea or coffee first so you can enjoy your beverages while you wander the store

if he goes by himself he’ll probably surprise you with your favorite ice cream or flowers that made him think of you that he just had to add to the cart

Julian

Julian goes to the store more than once a week because he inevitably forgets something every time, even with a list

he’s the type to run to the store after work to grab one singular onion he needs for a recipe or a bag of his favorite chips on a whim

he goes to the frozen section first, he’s a busy man and having frozen vegetables or meals on hand is always helpful in a pinch

he generally tries to shop quickly, but if you go with him he’ll want to spend more time walking around and looking at all of the random items together

“MC, do I look good in this hat?” 

the hat is bright yellow and says ‘This is what AWESOME looks like’ on it, you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or if he genuinely likes the hat, maybe it’s time to leave the clothing section

he likes to look in the bargain bins for old dvds, he’s the type to enjoy cheesy early 2000s movies and he still has a dvd collection despite having a Netflix subscription

Nadia

she’s a Whole Foods type of gal and probably wouldn’t shop at Walmart, but she would find it a fun experience if she did

she’s a planner, so her grocery shopping is efficient and she doesn’t get tempted by unnecessary purchases, unless you want something she hasn’t added to the list

Nadia would be impressed by the wide variety of items for sale, “They sell clothing? Bicycles? Books? Jewelry? What don’t they sell here!” 

she’ll want to look at the wine aisle, and would be surprised by the large selection there is to choose from and the sale prices

when she gets home she’ll be posting all over her social media about it because she assumes nobody has ever heard of the store, “Just went to a new store called Wal-Mart, excellent selection for wonderful prices- I highly recommend.” 

Nadia would be the type to give a grocery store a Yelp review

Muriel

he usually uses the online order option so he doesn’t have to go to the physical store to shop

if he has to shop in person he’ll stock up for an entire month at a time and buys staple products in bulk like flour or oats

he always visits the garden center so he can get supplies for his garden, and he prefers to grow his own produce instead of buying it when possible

he also likes to go through the camping supply aisles, he can pretty much always find something he needs whether it’s extra rope or a tarp to put over his chicken coop in the rainy season

the wide aisles and general cavernous interior of a Walmart means that he doesn’t have to be around too many crowds while he shops, so all in all he doesn’t mind the experience

and if you go shopping with him he’ll gladly follow you around the store if you want to look around 

Muriel always uses the self checkout even if he has a full cart

Portia

she walks into the store precisely once a week with a detailed list of items to purchase and she sticks to it, except for the occasional impulse buy

she heads to the bakery section first, not to buy any of the pre-made items but to get inspiration for her next baking project

”That frosting looks gross, I could do better!” 

Portia can often be found in the wine aisle buying cheap boxed wine, she has her favorite brands to splurge on but she also loves a deal 

if you come along, the grocery trip will turn into a game

hide and seek in the toy aisles? tag in the clothing section? Something about the fluorescent lights brings out Portia’s playful side

if she goes to the store by herself she’ll be a lot more efficient, but where's the fun in that?

Lucio

Lucio loves Walmart, the chaotic grocery store energy invigorates him and he loves to show up in fancy outfits (he strives to be the hottest person at the grocery store)

some of these outfits (a gold sparkly shirt under a white suit? neon green pants with a Gucci belt?) could land him in the “People of Walmart” hall of shame

he believes there's nothing you can’t find at Walmart, and he explores every section even if he came for just one item

he’s the type to get bored and go to a 24 hour store at three in the morning just to walk around and buy an energy drink or a frozen pizza for no reason

at the checkout he’s tempted by the “as seen on tv” items and might end up purchasing random items like an automatic light switch that activates when you clap, or duct tape that claims to be “military grade”

if you come along on the Walmart trip you’re going to have to convince him not to buy useless items and he’ll probably turn the “puppy dog look” on and try to persuade you, “But baby, we need that microwave egg cooker! I saw it on a commercial!” 

but at least he’ll hold your hand the whole time

[ahsokasleftbicep]

Name and Soul: Chapter 6

It's finally here! I am SO SO sorry for the delay. This weekend has been insane. But anyway, let's go.

@mqgriett @darkangel4121 @thelambandthewolffe @maulscrosshair @trash-dino-5000 @lightning-wolffe @killtherandomness @shadowwing1324 @sydnubabu @lafy-taffy @photowizard17

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 2042

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 6, Rampart being a *ahem* douchebag, super conflicted Crosshair, internal conflict, Tech being amazing, Wrecker kicking ass, there are a few curse words but nothing too bad, I think

“Y/N… Y/N!” Omega tugs on your hand.

You shake your head and look down at her. “Huh?... What?” The girl points at the makeshift target painted on the far wall.

“Good job, Omega! You’re getting there!” You ruffle her hair and she smiles. “How about you try again?”

Omega nods and readies herself with the Zygerrian bow. You look out the door and tune everything out. After you saw, well thought you saw him, you stood in the middle of the streets until someone bumped your shoulder. It couldn’t have been him. That’s impossible, he would be on Kamino. And he didn’t have any weapons besides his knife, he never brings only one weapon. And his eyes… It had to be him.

You refocus when Omega lets out a frustrated groan.

“But I’ve already hit the target three times.”

Echo rests his hand on her shoulder. “Out of 12. That’s luck, Omega, not skill.”

“He’s right.” You hop off the gambling table and nod at the target. “Soldiers need to be consistent and that comes with time.”

Omega tries again but misses, glaring at the Weequay and Ithorian. “I was doing better until those two showed up.”

Echo glances at you before looking back to Omega. “You have to learn to tune out distractions, which comes with practice.”

“Try again, Omega. You can do it.” You smiled at the girl and winced when she missed again.

“Not exactly a natural, is she.” Cid walks up and nudges Wrecker off of his seat. “Playtime’s over, I got a job for you.”

You all gather around the table, making yourselves comfortable. Omega reaches up to you and you pick her up so she can see.

“I assume you guys know what a tactical droid is?... They were the opera…”

“The operational brains of the Separatist military-” Tech butts in.

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.” This is my briefing, Goggles.”

Tech steps back offended while you and Echo try to muffle your laughter. Tech elbows you with a small smile before refocusing on Cid’s briefing. This is going to be a fun mission.

--

He was tired. God, he was so tired. Crosshair lied on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Despite his exhaustion, he had been trying to go to sleep for hours.

Why did I run? Why did I leave her there? Why did you go in the first place, you should’ve killed her. I love her. She betrayed the Empire, tried to kill you. I tried to kill her first.

Crosshair sat up from his bed and removed his necklace. He turned the ring over in his hand, looking at the engraving. O'r gai bal runi…

Y/N… I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.

“CT-9904, report to my office immediately.”

….“Yes, sir.”

--

“We’re approaching the decommissioning site. We can land at the dockyard and go in on foot.” Tech turns his head to look back before landing the ship.

You put on your helmet and look down at Omega. “You ready kid?”

“Definitely!” The girl runs ahead before Hunter holds her shoulder. You all crouch behind a wall. You raise your brow at Tech and poke his shoulder.

“What’s with the police droids? Cid never mentioned those.”

The man rolls his eyes and looks at his vambrace. “They operate on a rotating quadrant scan. If we time it correctly, they have a blind spot.”

“That’s our way in then.”

“Precisely.”

When the time is right, you make your way to the site, going up a ladder.

“It’s okay, Wrecker. Don’t look down, just like Skako Minor.” You glance down at the man and he nods.

“You say that like it’s easy, Y/N.”

You all enter the facility and huddle together.

“Wrecker, cover us up top.”

“But being the lookout was Crosshair’s job.”

“That’s why Y/N is going with you.” Hunter nods at you.

“Sounds good to me… C’mon big guy, let's get up there.”

--

This really could be going better. You dodge a few shots from the police droids, firing something back.

“Wrecker, Y/N. Get to the main control panel.” Echo’s voice comes through the comms

You and the man run up but stop when you reach the panel… on the other side of a river of molten droid parts. Lovely. Crosshair would’ve loved this.

“Echo, we can’t reach the platform. Unless you want us to fall into a molten river.”

“It’s the only way to reboot the whole facility. Figure it out!”

Wrecker looks at you, “That’s easy for you to say.” The man paces erratically and grips his head.

“Wrecker, we need to hurry. You can do this.” You stop the man and hold his shoulders. “I’ll cover you.”

The man groans and mumbles to himself.

“Wrecker, what are you waiting for?”

“Wrecker, you need to hurry!” A blaster shot flies over your head, and more police droids surround you both.

Wrecker jumps to a claw and swings to the platform, hitting his head in the process.

“Wrecker! Get the system online, we’re running out of time!” Police droids gather together, converging on your position. The man flips the switch before collapsing.

“Wrecker!” You fire off a few rounds and use the claw to get to the platform. “C’mon Wrecker! We gotta get out of here!”

You grab Wreckers blaster and fire at the closer droids. “Dammit, Wrecker!”

“H-Hunter, Y/N… I’m stuck on the conveyor. I need help.”

“I’m surrounded by police droids and Wrecker is incapacitated at the moment. Hunter?”

“I’ll get Omega. Just get down here as soon as you can.”

You fire off more rounds, then kneel down. “Wrecker… Wrecker! You couldn’t have hit your head that hard. C’mon.” You push his shoulder.

More droids converge and you move around the platform. Wrecker mumbles but you can’t make out anything. Good soldiers follow orders.

--

Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers...good soldiers.

“CT-9904? A moment?” Rampart approached the grey-haired man, who placed a toothpick between his lips.

“Sir.”

“I believe we have gotten off on the wrong… foot.” Rampart stands, looking out the window. “You see, Private L/N and her skills will be very useful for my current project. I understand that your relationship with the soldier-”

Crosshair shoves the man against the window, holding the sharpened point of his toothpick at Rampart’s neck. “I am holding this right over your carotid artery. If I slip just enough, you will bleed out in minutes, possibly less. Now I don’t know who you think I was to that woman, but if you keep pushing it...” Crosshair presses his toothpick harder. “...then I suggest you watch your back.” Crosshair lets go of his collar and Rampart falls to the floor, gripping his neck. “Oh and Admiral. If you tell anyone about this, I’ll still have enough time to find you.” The sniper narrows his eyes and disappears down the hallway.

--

“Y/N, Wrecker, get down here now!”

“I’m working on it, Echo! Wrecker’s still-”

“We’re on our way.” The man grabs his weapon from you and nudges your shoulder.

“Oh, so glad you could join us! How was your beauty sleep?” You punch his shoulder. “We need to get to the others.”

The man walks up to a chain and crouches down. “You remember that mission on Tatooine?”

“How could I ever forget?” You smile and get up on Wrecker’s shoulders. “Let’s do some damage.”

Wrecker jumps down the chain, the two of you firing off. “Sorry, we took so long!”

“We got tired of you guys having all the fun!” Wrecker lands with you still on his shoulders. You hop off and start covering the rest of the group.

“Y/N!” Omega runs up next to you, a few smudges on her face.

“Omega! You got a little something on your cheek, nothing a rag and water can’t take care of.” You pat her on the head for a moment before returning more fire.

A moment later, old battle droids begin to stand up and fire on the police droids.

“Well, that’s new… I take it, that’s our cue to get the hell out of here.”

Tech runs next to you, “Yes, it is indeed.”

“Good shot, Omega!”

“Thank you! You and Echo were right about those distractions.”

“We’ve dealt with this our whole lives, you learn to forget about them over time.” You kneel behind her and provide cover. “Let’s get going… I’m starving.”

“You and me both!” Wrecker runs past you, knocking the remaining droids to the ground.

--

“Trace, right?”

“Yes! And you’re Y/N.” The girl smiles at you.

You place your hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for going back to Omega.”

“She’s a good kid… And a good shot.” Trace chuckles.

“Well, she’s getting there…”

“Y/N! Let’s go! I thought you were starving!” Omega sticks her head out of the ship, waving her arms.

“Okay, jeez. I’m coming!” You wave to the sisters and run to the ship, sitting in the cockpit. Omega comes up and tugs on your arm. “Y/N… Uhm, can you help me train for a bit?”

“Yeah sure, but no target practice. Let’s do strength instead! Then you need to rest, you’ve had a big day.”

“Okay! Now c’mon let’s go!” The girl grabs your hand and drags you to the back.

--

Crosshair stood in the shower, staring at his necklace. He hadn’t moved in minutes, just letting the water run down his body. He was thinking… about everything. Sleep is unknown to him, his brain won’t shut up. He won’t shut up.

You should’ve gone back for her. You should’ve killed her. I love her. No, you don’t. What do you know...You’re not me. I love Y/N, and I always will, I promised her. Ha, with what? That stupid necklace, that ring? You tried to kill her and you think she still loves you? You betrayed everything you promised. You don’t know Y/N like I do. She knows, they all do. She saw me that day, she knows that I’m still here. And she knows you’re here too. She’s not stupid. Oh, I’m sure. Just shut up and let me sleep, please. Hm, I’ll think about it. No, I don’t think I will.

--

“Y/N? Why are you up?” Tech walks into the cockpit, devoid of his eyewear.

“I- couldn’t sleep. Haven’t been since…”

“Since the day we left Kamino… Am I correct?”

“Yes… It’s so odd. It’s like I can feel him.”

“Crosshair?”

“Yes, it’s like I can feel his presence. Like when someone stands behind you, but you can feel them there before they speak. And I keep thinking I hear him, and I see things. Like nightmares...horrible nightmares.” Tears gather in your eyes and they fall down your cheeks. “I- I must be losing my mind, right?”

Tech places his hand on your shoulder and kneels in front of you. “Y/N, you are most definitely not going crazy. But what you’re experiencing does sound very strange. I know how much this… has affected you and I don’t- I don’t have all the answers. I do wish I did, but circumstances have prevented me from fully dedicating-”

“Tech, you’re rambling again.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “I know you are doing everything you can, and you have a great assistant.”

The man chuckles, “Apologies. Yes, Omega is a very nice assistant. She is quite intelligent.” Tech stands up and yawns, “I believe some sleep is necessary, for both of us.”

“I’ll go in a moment, I promise.”

“Very well, I would hate to drag you back.” Tech nods before heading back to his room.

You turn your head, looking out into hyperspace. Crosshair… I don’t know if you can hear me. I was looking at the stars… I miss you. Maybe you’re looking at the stars too if you can even see them, but I hope you are. They look so pretty tonight.

--

Crosshair turned his head to the window, looking through the clouds of Kamino. He finds a small opening in the clouds, revealing a dark, clear sky above. I found the stars… You’re right. They do look pretty….

I love you, Y/N.

… I love you, Crosshair.

[winter-fox-queen]

Albatross

Summary:  Frankie wants to give you your dream vacation, but he’s not sure if it is worth the price.  

Warnings:  Female reader.  (He calls her his girl, and she wears a skirt in one scene.)  Angst.  No smut.  I thought I would finally write smut, this was going to be a very different story where they were AT the place already, but.  No.  Angst with a nice ending because I can't leave Frankie to suffer too long.

Thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog -- you are awesome and this picture is lovely.  

1,870 words.

Frankie didn’t lie to you.  Not about this, at least.

Well.

Not really.  He was working extra, taking extra shifts.  Except for right now.  Right now, he was in a cabin in the middle of a state forest, one of the very few things he’d bought with the money.  A place to hide.  To be at peace.

It was not working. The money felt like a weight. Half of each share had gone to Redfly’s family.  Half had gone to each man.  He’d hoped for freedom.  This was anything but.

I shouldn’t have hidden it in the cabin.  He once watched a TV show about Escobar, seen that one of the caches of money he’d hidden outside had gotten moldy.  So Frankie had gone into the cellar.  Dug up a section of the dirt floor.  Made a proper hiding place, kneeling in the dirt, mixing up quickcrete and placing stones until the cellar was paved in with stone pavers.  Three were loose.  Only one had a reinforced box with another box and a bunch of money that could change his life but he can’t even look you in the eye and explain that he has it.

So here he was, sitting on the weathered wood bench in front of the cabin you did not even know he owned, resting his cheek on his fist, looking at the cabin of his damned dreams like it was a haunted death trap from a B horror movie.

He signed, grabbed the magazine he’d dropped on the ground earlier, flipping it to an article you’d been sighing over when you thought he wasn’t looking.  The ultimate romantic getaway, with tiled pools and greenery and luxurious accommodations and candlelight dinners.  

“That’s pretty,” he’d said over your shoulder as you looked at the main picture of the article, a swimming pool tiled and beautiful – all Middle East and mysterious looking, making you think of romance and beauty.  

“I love it,”  you admit.  “I’d never get to go…but it is beautiful.  Have to win the lottery.”  She grinned at him.

He looked it up online, curious.  Frankie the pilot/mechanic couldn’t afford it.  Not even with extra shifts and only one beer on Fridays and watching every penny.

The other Frankie could.

So that was why he found himself in the cellar.  If you knew which paver it was to start from, and which direction to go, it was just a knight chess move, probably obvious and stupid, but he did not trust himself to remember any other way.  He pried it up carefully so not to scratch the stone and give away the hiding place.

He stared at the hole. The carefully wrapped money.  He fumbled for his phone, and by some miracle the call went through.

“Hey Frankie.”  Pope’s voice sounded tired, but warm.  Not quite there.

“If you really, really love someone, is it OK to lie to them?”

Pope didn’t think before he replied.  “Of course not.”

“If you really, really love someone and want to do something to make them happy, is it OK to lie about where you got the money for it?”

That stopped Pope. Pope, instead of being split focused was now, 100%, listening.  “Frankie…”

Frankie, waiting, crouching by the hidden safe, phone to one ear, other hand relaxed on his knee. Waiting.  Frankie was very good at waiting.

Pope sputtered a little, tried to think of what to say.  Finally. “Yeah, Frankie.  It’s OK.”

It’s what he wanted to hear but it wasn’t the truth and he knew it.  “I’ve never loved anyone like I love her.  I’ve never wanted anything in my life like I want her, want her happiness. But there’s this whole chunk of my life that she doesn’t even know about.  I look at this damned cabin and I think, she’d love it up here.  Her car broke down and she needed to buy a new one, and I could have bought her a fucking car so she wouldn’t have to worry about payments.”

“I know,”  Pope muttered, but Frankie is on a roll.  

“And the one damned thing I’ve ever seen her really, really want and it’s this damned vacation and I can give it to her.  I can fucking pay for it, but if she finds out how it’ll ruin everything.  She won’t be able to enjoy it.  The memory will be ruined.  I can’t fucking win.  What good is it, if I have this, and I can’t even use a little of it to make my girl happy?”

Pope, picking words, both because he’s not sure what to tell Franlie and because he is paranoid about anyone (doubtful) listening in.  “Maybe…maybe that is the good.  You can’t…make it better, right?  But you can…clean it.  Make good memories for your girl.  Do good things for the people you love.”  Pope sighed. “I can’t…I can’t bear it, either, you know?  I save it for a rainy day, but…”

“I didn’t think the guilt would last so long,”  Frankie said.

“No.”

“Maybe I should tell her.”

A pause.  “I can’t think of any way to tell that story without things going to shit.”

“I don’t like lying to her.”

“No.”  Another pause.  “Please don’t tell her unless you know you can trust her.”

“She won’t blab.” Frankie glared at the phone.

“Don’t get insulted on her behalf.  Everyone you love could get hurt…including her.”

Guilt seized his heart so hard he wondered if he was going to have a heart attack, right there.

“You OK, man?”

“Yeah.  Yeah.”  He said through numb feeling lips.  “I’m ok.”

He slipped his phone in his pocket, reached in, and took what he thought he could use, and carefully hid everything again.

Then he got very devious.

You can put up to 15,000 on a prepaid Visa gift card.  He went to a place where people were smart enough not to ask questions, or even care. One of those places where you want to wash your clothes after you leave.

Then he called the resort. “Look, I have these friends…” he said, “I want to treat them, but they can’t know who I am…”  The prepaid card was as good as a credit card.

And then he went home, and waited for you to check your email.  Sweating.  

And, obscurely, jealous of himself.  Super fucking jealous of himself, the more he thought about it.  Like, he hated the mysterious benefactor who was about to make the love of his life so happy.

He wanted to be the one. Wanted your eyes to light up and know it was because he’d been able to provide for you, he’d been able to make this happen.  He closed his eyes and swallowed it.  It was stupid and selfish…what did it matter, who got the credit as long as you got this? As long as it made you happy? Frankie would be there, seeing your smile when you stood next to that glorious tiled pool, watch you dabble your toes shyly in the water, as if to ask, can I really have this?

And it did.

“Frankie!”  You came in, sat on his lap.  Your arms were warm around him, you made a soft and perfect armful as he wrapped himself around you, let your lips peck happy kisses all over his face.

“What is it, baby?”  

You pull back.  “You know.  The trip.”

Frankie raises his eyebrows, all innocence, starts to protest, but you silence him with another kiss.

“I know, baby, who loves me enough to put so much effort into planning things like this.  The surprise is nice, but you know I’m not dumb.” You toss aside his cap and run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently, and Frankie sighs softly, his eyes shutting a little.  He opens them again when your hands cup his cheeks.  

You look very serious. And a little sad.  Which hits his Oh Shit button, hard.

“You didn’t have to go to all this effort, baby.  You really didn’t.”

“Well, I…”  he tried to think of something to say, but settled for, “I love you.  I love you so much, you don’t even…”

This earns him a kiss on the forehead.  Then you say, “I know how you got the money.” And his blood runs cold.  Before he could marshal some sort of reply, you continue, “Come on, Cat.  Long hours. Extra shifts?  I know that the people down at the field are not the most upstanding of people.  But…baby, it’s so dangerous.”

It doesn’t take him much to put the pieces together.  “You think I’m running drugs?”  It comes out as an incredulous squeak.

You nod.  “It makes sense.  This dream – literally a dream vacation – is not cheap.  And I never expected it.  You know that?  I enjoyed day dreaming about going with you because I love you and I want to take you all over the world…”  You sigh. “I just want to see the beautiful things of this world through your eyes.”

This time, Frankie does the silencing, with a gently thumb over your lips.  “Sweetheart, I didn’t…”

You kiss the pad of his thumb.  “You gonna try and tell me this money came on the up and up?  Baby, I know how much you make.”

You look at each other for a long moment.  You, work skirt hiked up so you can straddle his thighs, sitting closer to his knees,  Frankie, his hands gentle on your hips so you don’t fall.

“I could tell you,” he says, softly.  The words running underneath But I don’t want to and you might not like it.

You are sharp.  That’s one of the things he likes about you, how much you see.  It’s also one of the things that scares him the most.  Finally, “Are you in danger?”

Frankie shakes his head, once.  

“Is it…is it the reason why sometimes you get so sad?”

One nod.  A little smile.  He watches you digest this.  Make a decision.  

The delicate hands come up to frame his face again.  You look him right in the eyes.  “You are a good man.  I don’t know what happened, and maybe, someday, you can tell me.  But you are good and kind and I love you.”  And you kiss him again, this time so fiercely that his thinks it’s going to bruise, and he’s fine with that.

You lean back again.  “Humph.  Well. If you’d not already paid for it, I’d probably save the money to pay on the car.”

“No take backs.”  He grins despite himself.  

“Rats.”  You grin back.  Slide off his lap.  “Now to call Darla and see when I can take off, and then we are buying you a new swim suit.”  You bounce on your feet, then turn to go for your phone.

Frankie leans back against the cushions with a groan.  “I do not need…”

You peek around the doorframe.  “You are not going to a five star resort in purple swim trunks with catfish on them!”

“They were a present!” he calls after your retreating form, and grins at the ceiling.

It’s going to be alright, he thinks, feeling lighter.  It’s going to be alright.

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 6

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

Warnings: food/drink mention, death mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Thank you for being so patient 🥺 School+job interviews have been kinda crazy for the last few weeks. But now I’m on spring break AND got an internship, so hopefully the coming chapters will be up soon. Enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking up Missy? I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

Erin laughed softly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m turning into the school parking lot already, babe. I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to spend time with Missy.”

Her boyfriend let out a sign of relief on the other end of the call. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it a couple times,” she replied, pulling up to the pickup line. When she spotted Missy, she waved her over. Her heart soared as the little girl’s face lit up like the sun. “I should let you get back to work. I’ll bring her back to your place, so don’t worry about stopping by my apartment, ok?”

“Okay, honey.” A pause. “Thank you for taking care of my baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably run around frantically,” she teased, unlocking the car doors so Missy could climb into the back seat. “Now go save the world, Marcus. I’ll see you at home in a few hours.”

After that, she hung up and turned around in her seat to greet Missy, who was already buckled up. “Ready to go home?”

The little girl nodded. “Will you stay for dinner tonight? We haven’t had a night with all three of us in a while.”

Erin laughed softly, pulling out of the pickup line. “Missy, sweetie, I stayed over this past weekend! But yes, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Can you stay forever, then?”

Well, that was unexpected. Yes, she’d become an integral part of the Morenos’ lives, but she never thought Missy would want her around all the time. Surely she missed her mom, or missed having free reign around the house with just Marcus as her parent figure. She couldn’t be that important, could she?

Part of her couldn’t help but melt at Missy’s request. For a long time, she’d wanted to find someplace that she could call home–a place where she could live, appreciate, and be appreciated in return. It would’ve been a lie to say that she never thought of a life with the Morenos, but she knew that it was more complicated than her late-night fantasy made it out to be. She couldn’t just barge into their lives.

The drive to Marcus’s house was muscle memory at that point, the turns of her wheel well-practiced. After their first date, they’d gone on two more. And while neither of them had gone much further than needy kisses, she couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with him. He was worth it. He was worth everything.

Missy bounced on the balls of her feet as Erin fished out the house key from her purse, bounding into the house the moment the door was unlocked. “If I finish my homework early, can we bake something?”

“Maybe,” she mused, setting her shoes on the shoe rack by Missy’s. After locking the front door, she walked into the main family and dining area. “What did you have in mind?”

“Can we make a tres leches cake?” Missy asked, looking up at her with innocent eyes. “I asked dad, but he said no.”

Erin chuckled and sat down in the chair next to her. “That’s probably for a good reason, sweetie. We just finished a cake roll the other day, so maybe we can bake it this weekend. Instead, we can have ice cream today.”

The girl sighed and shrugged. “Okay, it was worth a shot.” She frowned as she read over her english homework. “Parts...of speech? I don’t remember learning any of this in class. Can you help me? Pleeeease, Erin?”

Humming in confirmation, she set down the file she was reading and turned so she could read the homework sheet better. “Ah, I remember learning this in school. It’s not too bad, it’s just that the names are a little weird. Let’s see…”

They worked on the homework together, Erin explaining the concepts and asking Missy to give her examples of everything from verbs to nouns. She tried not to think about what it would be like to spend more afternoons and evenings helping her little girl with homework. It was a long way off, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

She was explaining the difference between nouns and proper nouns when Missy mentioned, “You know, dad used to have a different name.”

Erin raised a dark brow, surprised at how nonchalantly the girl had made the comment. “Really, now?” It probably shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise–didn’t most superheroes have codenames, or secret identities?

Missy nodded. “Well, I think so. I remember when I was little, sometimes he would write Marcus Pike on my permission slips instead of Moreno. Then he’d have to cross it out and fix it. Silly, right?”

Erin froze, her heart dropping into her stomach. Her Marcus...was Marcus? “Oh...that is silly. I wonder why he changed it.”

It didn’t make sense. Marcus Pike disappeared nearly a decade ago, and as far as she knew, he wasn’t affiliated with the Heroics. And he certainly couldn’t have a daughter that was in second grade.

Or could he?

But if he was the Marcus Moreno, then why did he need to have a fake identity? More importantly, why didn’t he tell her that he was Marcus Pike? Even if it was a codename, it didn’t matter once they met. Unless...he didn’t want her to know.

Maybe he didn’t want to be found;  because if she was anything to him, why didn’t he look for her? Why didn’t he try to contact her?

The air turned cold. Breathing slowly through her nose, she sat back and opened her laptop. She scrolled through the reports of Marcus Pike’s disappearance. There was nothing on him except some anecdotes and some text messages between coworkers. There was no address, no email, no mention of his name online. He’d very much disappeared. No one, not even her best agents, could find any trace of him after that winter day eight years ago.

Sighing, she switched gears and pulled up as much information as she could find about Marcus Moreno. She didn’t like the feeling of prying into his life, but she had to know. It didn’t make sense: if Marcus Pike existed for years within the FBI, what was Marcus Moreno up to? Did he disappear too?

Her hands shook as she clicked on the website of the Heroics and went to Marcus’s page. Unlike most of the other heroes, he didn’t have a codename. Why was that?

She paused at his photo, gaze softening slightly. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, he did look a lot like Marcus Pike. He had the same furrow between his brows, the same nose. They were the same height as well, which she’d noticed as her body fit perfectly against him.

They–he?–both knew her coffee order like the back of their–his?–hand, and knew exactly how to comfort her when the stress from work became too much. He called her the same pet names, her favorite being….honeydew.

Shit.

Only one person ever called her “honeydew.”

She was terrified as she scrolled down.

The first appearance of Marcus Moreno as a member of the Heroics was eight years ago.

How could she have been so blind? He was right in front of her the entire time, and she never noticed. She built her entire reputation on remembering details and noticing everything, and she couldn’t pick up on the clues. Who else would call her “honeydew,” hug her like it had been years, and want to take the relationship slow?

It was too much.

Not wanting Missy to worry, Erin got up from the table and locked herself in the bathroom before letting the tears fall.

Why did he have to go?

Why didn’t he tell her?

Why didn’t he come back?

---

Erin only let a few tears fall before gathering herself again. She couldn’t let Missy know the truth, not yet. She had to be strong for her, just as she had to be strong for her team when every lead turned into a dead end. So much time had passed since she last had any hope of seeing Marcus again; part of her didn’t want to believe it. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny it anymore: Marcus Moreno was Marcus Pike. He was alive and well, and happy.

The least she could do was be happy for him.

But it didn’t soften the blow on her pride.

Dinner was a quieter affair than usual. She couldn’t bring herself to talk more than a couple sentences at a time, for fear of something slipping out. Maybe it was better that way. Marcus obviously didn’t want to deal with the effects of disappearing, so why should she make an effort to find closure?

That was another thing, she realized. If he really was Marcus Pike, then would she ever get closure? Would she ever get to truly move on from the one person she could never have?

Once Missy went upstairs to get ready for bed, the silence grew deafening. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how.

Marcus must’ve sensed something was off, because his brows furrowed just slightly. He came up and leaned against the counter, watching as she transferred the leftovers into tupperware containers. “What’s wrong?”

Erin sighed. Part of her didn’t want to confront him and destroy the little bubble of happiness surrounding them, but she needed answers. If he reacted badly….maybe he wouldn’t be the one. Resigned, she asked, “Why did you lie to me, brown eyes?”

A blanket of silence settled in the kitchen.

His eyes widened. “W-what do you mean?”

Fighting back tears, she asked, “Why did you let me think you were dead, Pike? I-” She covered her face with her hands, eyes clenched shut. “I searched for you, but you were gone!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes glistening. “I should’ve told you.”

As she started trembling, he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her cry. His honeydew was crying because of him.

“I just wanted my best friend back,” she said. Facing him, she asked, “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to live the rest of my life feeling guilty that I was moving on from the love of my life?”

Marcus felt like he’d been punched. She…wanted him since the beginning? “Your...what? Honeydew, I-”

She stepped back as he reached for her. His heart broke as she shook her head and said firmly, “No. You don’t get to call me that. I don’t….I don’t even know who you are.”

“Okay,” he said softly, taking off his glasses. Tears dripped down his face as he faced her. “Let me introduce myself. Completely. My name is Marcus Moreno. We met when I was hiding under an alias: Marcus Pike.”

He told her about his family, and his involvement with the Heroics early on in his life. His mother, Anita Moreno, was one of the original heroes in the organization. As the Heroics grew more prominent and began working with the government, he needed to change his name–while his mother wanted to help the world, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to go to school, make friends, and have a family someday.  With the status that came with being a Moreno, he couldn’t do any of that without putting his loved ones in danger. So, with the help of the Heroics, he changed his identity to Marcus Pike.

Most of his adult life, including university, was spent as Marcus Pike. His failed marriage had Marcus Pike written on the certificate. Even when he worked for the FBI, he was documented as Marcus Pike; no one knew who he was, not when new people were being cycled in and out of the workplace.

After moving to DC and having his engagement with Teresa Lisbon broken off, he gave up. He contacted his mother, got involved with the Heroics again, and had his identity erased so he could take over as the leader of the Heroics.

“But that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t tell me,” she said, frowning. “Is the difference between Marcus Pike and Marcus Moreno so big that it would affect our relationship?”

Marcus sighed. “Do you really want to know?” When she nodded, he confessed, “I didn’t tell you because...I didn’t want to lose you.”

Her gaze softened. “What?”

“I was afraid that if you saw me as Marcus Pike, you’d  only ever see me as a friend,” he explained. “And he is me…. But the way you looked at Marcus Moreno was all I ever wanted. It was everything I wished I could have back and more. The most painful part of leaving Pike behind was losing you. It was losing the chance to tell you how I felt, and to see where we could’ve gone together.” He stepped closer, and this time she didn’t flinch away when he touched her. “It was selfish, I know. I’m sorry. But I promise you, Erin, my honeydew, my feelings for you are real. They always were. No amount of name changes and secret identities can change that.”

Unable to stop herself, Erin threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “I missed you so much.”

He held her close and stroked her hair, basking in her warmth. “I missed you too.”

“You’re an idiot, though,” she said, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she let go. “I would’ve said yes whether or not you were Pike.”

“But?”

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m not mad,” she said. A wave of humiliation crashed over her. “If you were anyone else, I’d be gone.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad, and I don’t blame you if you want some space.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she said softly, wincing as her head started throbbing. “I...I want space, but I’m afraid I'll lose you again. I’m mad, but I’m also….glad that my best friend is alive and well.”

“You can stay for the night, if you want,” Marcus offered, searching her gold-flecked eyes. He braced himself for the rejection, for her to scoff and storm out of his house. But it never happened.

Once everything was put away in the kitchen, they made their way up to his bedroom and got ready for bed. Sharing the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces felt odd. Why did it feel like they’d been robbed of years of their life?

He didn’t regret marrying his late wife–no, never–but the more he and Erin spent time together, the more aware he was of just how much things could’ve been different. Everything he had was because he couldn’t tell a woman he loved her eight years ago.

Nestled against him, Erin sighed. “You don’t have to go with me on the undercover op. This job...it’s important and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

He shook his head. “No, I promised you I’d go. Everything will be alright, honey.” The familiar weight of her body against his soothed his nerves, even after everything. “I’m sorry we lost so much time. I’ll make it up to you.”

Erin didn’t respond.

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[awed-frog]

Hello! I see that people are asking you about diets right now. I started living independently fairy recently, and I still haven't figured out an ideal way of feeding myself. Not sure if my autism plays a role here, or if it's just me being inexperienced, but would you maybe happen to have any advice for NT people regarding food? Like how I can get myself to eat enough fruits + vegetables and how I can keep from eating the same two dishes for the rest of my life (I WILL, if I don't pay attention)

Hi, thanks for the message! I’d say first of all take it easy, planning your meals + groceries is harder than people think, especially in the beginning. Just remember not to buy too much (produce will go bad, stuff like flour will develop flies) and take it easy. I can suggest a few things:

1) If you can, get good cooking appliances, especially a rice cooker or multicooker or Instant Pot, depending on where you live and what’s available. A rice cooker is a good option because they’re generally cheap, but most of them can only handle white rice, which isn’t the most nutritious meal. I finally got myself a multicooker two years ago and I’m really happy. You may have to experiment a bit in the beginning, but it halves the time you spend in the kitchen, can reheat food, and also makes things like bread and yogurt.

2) If you have a freezer, use the hell out of it. The best option for varying your meals is to always cook twice the portion and freeze half. If you don’t have a big freezer, remember that most vegan meals will also keep fairly well in the fridge for a couple of days, so you could eat your delicious meal both on Thursday night and for lunch on Saturday, which is Not Bad. You can also look up ways to freeze vegetables and fruits - I started keeping batches readily available to add to soups, stir-frys, and fruit purees/smoothies.

3) Be realistic. Like, unless you’re a Michelin cook, you’ll need some time to learn a new or complicated recipe, so start trying on a Saturday and give yourself a few tries. And if you get home really late, you probably won’t want to spend two hours in the kitchen, so either prep your meals beforehand (you can find tons of good advice online), or keep some ingredients for a quick meal (like a pesto sauce or ready-made dips).

4) Pantry, pantry, pantry. Most cookbooks will have a pantry list in the first pages, and those are the first things you need to buy. Remember that if you keep the same old recipe but swap out ingredients, you’ll magically have different dishes and you’ll get a lot of nutritional benefits because you’re eating different stuff! For instance, for a quick meal you can make hummus but use borlotti beans instead of chickpeas, or peanut butter instead of tahini. Why not? God is not watching. 

5) Change up your greens. For your produce: if you live on your own, don’t buy too much, and choose variety instead. For instance: weekly, only buy two kinds of fruits (one perishable you’ll eat first, like stone fruits or berries, and one that’ll last longer, like bananas, apples or pears) and three kinds of vegetables (one cruciferous: cauliflower or broccoli, for instance; one root: turnips or carrots or sweet potatoes; and one leafy green: spinach, Swiss chards, kale and so on), plus mushrooms (a nutritional godsend and very yummy) + onions and garlic. Add whatever salad material is in season (summer or winter greens, zucchini, beets, avocado) and you’re basically all set. By thinking in terms of categories instead of specific foods, you’ll ensure variety without too much effort.

6) Stick to easy cooking. As for meals: you don’t actually need a lot of fancy recipes. Find two or three things you like to cook, and repeat them twice or three times a week. By alternating your lunches and dinners, and swapping out ingredients a bit (one evening rice, the other barley, for instance; one lunch roasted pumpkin, the next one roasted Brussel sprouts) you can cook on autopilot while still ensuring you’re getting your nutrients and don’t get bored.

7) Cheat. If you struggle to eat your veggies, there are tricks you can use. For instance, smoothies and soups are good ways to eat tons of stuff fairly easily. If you eat cheese, it will make anything taste good - although garlic has the same effect and zero bad fats. Nutritional yeast is also something most people love. Adding finely chopped veggies to a normal tomato pasta sauce is another way of hiding a few greens without much effort. You can find a lot of recipes for ‘hidden’ fruits and veggies by looking up parenting tips - and remember that the way you cook stuff also changes the flavour considerably, so if you don’t like steamed zucchini, try roasting them, or adding them to a stir-fry, a soufflé, a savoury bread and so on.

8) No rules apply. And finally, remember you’re an adult now, and if you decide that you want to try miso soup and fried rice for breakfast, or that Friday night is ice-cream-instead-of-dinner night, that’s perfectly alright. You don’t have to cook for yourself for every single meal, or stick to your own culture and family traditions for what is acceptable to do.

Also: a slightly unethical life tip. On b-ok, you’ll find most cookbooks that exist - for free. If you need ideas, you can look up a book on Amazon, see if it looks good, then download it on b-ok. I’d suggest trying three or four recipes and if you like them - and can afford it - buying the real book to support the author. I sometimes do this because you can’t always tell at a glance if a cookbook is what you’re looking for or not, so this makes it easier to decide what to buy.

Good luck and happy cooking!

[nightowlfandom]

Anime! Fictional! BTS x Real World! Reader- Welcome To My World~ Episode 2

Read the other chapters- Episode 1

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

On the previous Episode of “Welcome To My World’

“Get out of here you little-.” you chased the dog out of your room, slamming your door as it scurried off.~...

“I think it’s cute to be honest. Y/N here actually has a hobby besides stalking celebrities online.”~...

“...You just do.” you nudged her shoulder. “You just go for it and hope. Go for it.”~...

“Starting new game....now”~...

...

Everything was dark. You couldn’t even open your eyes. You were aware of your surrounding all while being frightened at the same time. Did you collapse? Were the graphics too strong for you to handle?

“Shh, I think she’s still sleeping!”

“She’s been asleep for hours! Should we call someone?”

“No! She looks like she’s about to wake up.”

You let out a loud groan, feeling your head pounding with pain. 

“Honey! Is everything okay?”

There was a gentle hand on your forehead which eased all pain you felt. “Hm?” 

“You passed out. We told you not to go out when you were sick! You’re lucky we caught you before you made it out the door.”

You suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of Deja-Vu, where have you heard this before?

You finally found it in yourself to open your eyes. Three men were standing over you. All looking very familiar. The first guy breathed a sigh of relief before wiping his eyes. “Love, You scared me!”

“She scared all of us!” The next in line snapped. “Y/N you can’t do that!” he glared down at you.

“...” Your eyes scanned over the three. “W-wha- HOLY SHIT!” You let out a loud scream. You began thrashing your body, falling off the couch in the process. Despite your head still hurting, you scrambled to your feet.

“Hey! Easy!!” a guy with pale blonde hair ushered up to you.

Kim Namjoon: Wealthy Playboy With A Dark Secret.

“Huh...” the words appeared in front of you like magic, yet it appeared that only you were able to see them. They slowly faded out at the next guy spoke.

“Be easy on her!”

Kim Taehyung: Singer With A Heart Of Gold

“I say we knock some sense into her so it doesn’t happen again.”

Min Yoongi: Rapper With A Hot Temper

“Woah.” you whispered. Wait, were you in the game?! This was exactly like the intro to the first BTS Universe game. 

~Try To Get Their Attention OR ~Remain Quiet.

You stared at the floating words in front of you. Try to get their attention or remain quiet. You focused on the three who were all arguing over you. Where was your mom? Mr. Chai? Nari?! You finally made your choice.

“Um...excuse me?” your voice captured their attention. “C-could someone tell me what’s happening?” 

“What happened is that instead of going to bed, you tried to go in to work against our wishes.” Namjoon crossed his arms. “Any questions?”

“Um...yes?” you dared to say. “Where am I?”

“At the penthouse. We bought you back last night.” Taehyung smiled. “You seem to be feeling better though!” 

“Y-yeah...Um I gotta use the bathroom” you replied....Where the fuck would that be? You allowed yourself to walk away down a long hall. “Bathroom....Bathroom. Aha!”

You stared at yourself in he bathroom mirror. You looked like a 3-D rendered version of yourself. “This is real?” you shuddered. “Um...What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

~Wash Your Face OR ~Check Your phone

“My phone?” you began digging around through your pockets until you felt your phone. You stared at the screen and the words ‘BTS WORLD’ flashed across the screen.

“Stats, closet, gacha?” you raised an eyebrow. Curious, you pressed it which pulled up one of those cool Gachapon Machines.

Spend gold stars, or diamonds?...

“How many diamonds do I have?”

You have...90,000 Stars and 9000 diamonds!

You were about to click something else when a knock came at the door.

“H-hello?” you called. 

“Open up!” a gruff voice answers. 

As if not being able to control yourself, you opened the car door.

Jung Hoseok : King of The Crime Underworld

“How long were you gonna take in there?” he seethed. 

“Oh! I’m sorry.” you didn’t know what else to say.

“Sure you are.” he huffed. “..Why do you look like that?” he glared at you. 

“I just woke up.” you guessed. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Ugh, stop apologizing.” he rolled his eyes. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Breakfast?..Ummm pancakes?”

“Hm...Hey...you look different.” he mused. 

Well you definitely didn’t look like the regular typical visual novel MC...

“I like it.” he smirked. “Keep this look.”

“Oh..Um...okay.” you laughed nervously. You didn’t expect that. ‘Um...I’ll be done in a bit.”

“Hm, very well. Be downstairs in ten minutes.” he said before walking off. 

...(Downstairs)

You awkwardly sat between Hoseok and Namjoon, great...You absentmindedly played with your food, still trying to grasp the edges of what the hell was going on. How did you get trapped in a game! 

“Hm, cat got your tongue?”

You looked up to whoever spoke.

Kim Seokjin: Cold Blooded Lawyer

~Answer Kindly OR Answer Rudely

“Better Play It Safe...” You thought. “Um...No, my head just hurts.” you lied. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh no! Do you need me to take a look at it?”

“You’re always looking for an excuse to get her alone!”

Park Jimin: World Renowned Designer 

Jeon Jungkook: The Charming Doctor

You stared at everyone in front of you. This was real. You all sat at a dining table. You looked around at everyone who were eating and speaking amongst themselves.

“No, I’ll be fine.” you shook your head. “I think I just need to rest today.” you gritted. And find out how the hell you were gonna get home. You were sure your parents were worried sick about you.

“If you want I can give you a checkup.” Jungkook winked. “Come to my room if you’re interested.”

“Please, you’re the last person Y/N would go to for a checkup.” Namjoon scoffed. It was then you felt a strange touch on your leg. “Leave your perverse thoughts to yourself.” Namjoon leaned close and whispered in your ear. “Unless you want me to give you a checkup.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you slowly rose from your spot at the table. “N-no. Really, I’m just gonna go to bed” you scurried off. “See you guys!”

“Am I really in the game?” you asked as you stared at your surrounded. BTS: Universe was the very first game you’ve ever played, so you didn’t even know if you remembered the events of the game all the way. 

You finally found your room and barricaded yourself inside, letting out a loud scream. 

‘WHAT THE- HOW THE-....The disc.” you began rambling. “How am I gonna-” you slapped a hand over your forehead. Usually when you played games like these, you played...dirty.

You chose all the lewd choices, did everything humanely possible with each character, and were basically an entirely different person when it game to playing the games. What were you gonna do now?

“I got to get out of here.” you leaned against the door and sat down. 

End of Episode 2...

[writingblock101]

Test Day (Jason Todd x Reader)

This means I have officially written a quarantine fic. What a weird time to be alive. I also hit 500 followers so thank you for that! 

Request for anon: Fluff #7 “Oh, would you look at that? There’s nowhere to sit besides my lap.” with Jason

Word Count: 1,900

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish

When your alarm went off, you wanted nothing more than to turn it off and curl up against Jason’s warm chest and pretend you didn’t hear anything. But instead, you had to be a diligent student who actually studies so you quickly shut off your alarm and try to creep out of bed, but Jason already heard your alarm go off. 

“No,” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 

You sigh, leaning back against Jason for a moment, relaxing in his hold. 

“I need to study,” You tell him. 

“Five more minutes,” He mumbles into your neck. “It’s too early to study.” 

“Any time before 11:30 is too early for you,” You remind him. “My test is today, I’ve got to cram.” 

Jason grumbles, tightening his arms around your waist. 

“Jase, come on,” You start trying to uselessly wiggle out of his grip. “I’ve been procrastinating this whole week.” 

He sighs but releases his arms. You climb out of bed, but turn and pull the blankets over Jason’s chest again and kiss his head. 

“Go back to sleep,” You tell him. 

He waves you off. 

“Yeah, go study for your test,” He grumbles. 

You can’t help but giggle at his grumpiness but quietly creep out of the room and brew a cup of coffee. Once setting yourself up at your kitchen counter, you begin the long haul of learning as much organic chemistry as possible. While you weren’t completely helpless, the quarantine forced your classes online and completely destroyed your motivation. You’d been lightly studying throughout the week, but today was grind day. 

An hour later, Jason emerges from your bedroom, still looking sleepy and a little grumpy.

“Nice sweatshirt,” He comments, pressing a kiss to the side of your head then pours himself a cup of coffee. 

You grin, tugging on the strings of Jason’s hoodie that you’re currently wearing. It’s warm, big, and smells like Jason. Honestly, at this point, it’s providing more emotional support than physical comfort. 

“I’m surprised you’re up,” You comment, glancing at the clock over your oven which reads: 8:09 AM. 

Normally, you and Jason didn’t even acknowledge the outside world until after 10 o’clock unless absolutely necessary. 

“I don’t like sleeping in an empty bed,” He admits to his coffee. “I don’t sleep as well.” 

Your heart flutters at the comment, but you ruin the moment when you look back at the practice test open on your screen. Oh, you’re still here. You squint your eyes at the old tests as if it deeply offended you (which is has by existing, thank you very much). 

“Did you eat breakfast?” Jason asks. 

“Not yet.” 

Jason nods then opens the fridge and begins making eggs while you keep cracking away at old tests. He wordlessly sets a plate of food down next to you, kisses the top of your head, then sits on the couch to quietly watch TV and enjoy his breakfast. 

A few hours pass as you keep doing practice problems and drawing figures and formulas on your little whiteboard. You’re starting to feel better about the test, but you’re still unsure. Knowing your professor, he’ll ask a question that you have all the information to solve, but no idea how to do it. Your stomach grumbles and you decide you should probably eat lunch. 

When you get stressed or “in the zone”, your brain tends to shut off your appetite. You’d never noticed it until you started living with Jason and he pointed it out after watching you study for a final. Luckily, he’s helped you become more aware of it. 

Speaking of Jason, he disappeared back to the bedroom about an hour ago, probably to read a book or do research for his next mission with the Outlaws. As a thank you for making breakfast, you fix him a sandwich along with your own and walk it back to the bedroom. 

You find him on the floor, one of his dresser drawers open, surrounded by shirts. He brightens when he sees you walk in with food. 

“How’s studying going?” He greets. 

You shrug, handing him his plate. 

“It’s going. I’m starting to feel better about it, but there’s still a lot to go. What are you doing?” 

“Cleaning out some stuff,” Jason looks at his various piles. “I never really built my wardrobe back up after I came back, so a lot of this stuff doesn’t fit me.” 

“Are you going to order some new stuff online?” 

Jason frowns. 

“Maybe? I don’t like buying clothes online.” 

“You don’t like buying clothes period,” You correct with a smile. 

“After all this is over,” Jason vaguely gestures to the air. “I’ll be more than willing to go clothes shopping for at least the first week when quarantine ends, so I’ve gotta make it count.” 

You chuckle. 

“We’ll go on a shopping spree,” You promise. “Well, I gotta keep studying--” 

“Wait, why don’t you eat lunch with me?” Jason asks. “Take a break?” 

“This is me taking a break,” You gesture to him. “I gotta keep going.” 

“Come on, babe, you’ve been studying since 7 this morning. You can afford to stop and eat lunch.” 

“The longer I wait to get back to it, the harder it’s going to be to start,” You shrug. “Sorry, Jase.” 

He frowns, watching you leave the room to keep studying. 

Two hours later, you’re still going strong-- strong as in you’re still looking at the material, but you keep getting the same style question wrong and you can’t figure out why. 

“Okay, an amino has one nitrogen, so you add one, but an amide has one site of unsaturation so you subtract two which then makes it 2n+1,” You scan the possible formulas. “None of these answers have odd numbers,” You groan then flip through your notes, knowing you’re not going to find the answer because you’ve been looking for it for the past fifteen minutes and still found nothing. 

Jason emerges from the bedroom again. 

“Hey, babe, how’s it going?” He asks, getting something to drink out of the fridge. 

“I can’t figure out how to do these stupid problems,” You groan. “I could do them on the last test, but now I can’t do them with amino or amide groups because Dr. Meades never told us the corrected formula.” 

Jason frowns, and rounds the counter, looking at the various scribbles and cross-outs on your whiteboard and open notebook. 

“Maybe you should take a break,” He suggests, rubbing your back. “You’ve been going at it now,” Jason pauses to look at the clock. “For roughly seven hours.” 

“But my test is in three hours. I’ve gotten figure out how to do these problems because there’s always five of them on the test and if I mess up one, I’m going to mess up two,” Your jaw tightens as you feel the burn of tears building in your eyes. 

Oh, hell no. Organic chemistry is NOT going to make me cry. While you care about your studies, it’s not enough to make you cry. You take a deep breath, blinking a few times to force back the tears of frustration. 

“Some fresh eyes might help. Just take a few minutes to shut your brain off,” Jason tries to urge you but you brush him off. 

“I’m okay, I promise. I’m going to see if I can find some example problems,” You start typing on your laptop again, scrounging old tests. 

Jason frowns but leaves you to work. 

Two hours later, you get up to go to the bathroom. You stare at the blue walls of your bathroom feeling drained and exhausted. You hate organic chemistry and you hate online classes. Why are you even taking this class?! It’s stupid! 

After washing your hands, you glance at the clock on Jason’s nightstand-- one hour until you take your test. Sighing heavily, you walk back out to the kitchen to continue studying, only to find every seat at the kitchen counter and small dining table have been taken by a varying amount of objects including but not limited to: a tall stack of folded laundry, a pile of what you were guessing to be Jason’s shirt rejects, a stack of plates from the cupboard, and Jason’s ammunition bag that he takes on missions. 

You stare at the chairs then glance over at Jason only to notice he stacked your textbooks and DVD collection on the loveseat while he is pointedly sprawled across the other couch. He casually reads his book, pretending to not notice you. 

“Hey, Jason?” You ask. 

He hums in response. 

“What is this?” 

Jason looks around the room then sets his book down, placing a hand on his cheek in mock surprise. 

“Oh, would you look at that? There’s nowhere to sit besides my lap.” 

He opens his arms invitingly and you can’t help but laugh. 

“Jason--” You start to say, not moving toward him, despite the tempting offer. 

“No,” He cuts you off. “You have been studying all day. You need to take a break and you’re going to take it now.” 

“My test is in an hour.” 

“Honestly, if you don’t know it by now, you’re not going to know it for the test,” Jason tells you bluntly. “You’re going to be fine. Please, just take a break,” He looks at you pleadingly. 

You glance back toward your laptop which you notice Jason had shut then sigh and walk over to Jason, letting him pull you down onto the couch with him. You land between his legs with his arms wrapped tightly around you. 

“You’re going to do great,” He promises. 

You snort. 

“It’s organic chemistry, “great” does not exist in its vocabulary.” 

“Shut up, it’s going to be great.” 

“I got a 66 on the last test,” You remind him. 

Jason pauses for a moment. 

“You’re going to pass,” He fixes, making you laugh. 

“There we go. That’s the realistic prediction I need to hear,” You grin, tucking your chin under his head. “I just want the semester to be over.” 

“Yeah, I know doll,” He kisses the top of your head. “But you can’t keep trying to do your classes like this.” 

“Yeah, I know,” You sigh, playing with his fingers. 

You two stay like that until it’s time for you to log on and take your test. And what do you know? Jason was right, you did pass. 

“Told you,” Jason grins, kissing your cheek as he looks over your shoulder at the screen. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You roll your eyes, closing your laptop. 

“I’m just saying that you should listen to me more,” He points out. 

“Oh really?” 

“Uh-huh, cause clearly, I’m a genius.” 

“A genius you say?” You turn your chair so you’re facing Jason. 

“Yep,” He grins, stepping between your legs while your arms go around his neck. “I could put Tim out of business.” 

“I’m sure,” You roll your eyes. “You’re very humble about it too.” 

“Oh of course,” Jason flips his hair dramatically. “Not only am I a genius, but I’m also smoking hot.” 

You start laughing, shaking your head. 

“You’re a dork,” You grin, kissing Jason. 

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” He murmurs against your lips. 

“Damn right,” You grin. 

The quarantine sucks, but at least you have a good company. 

I had a test on Tuesday, can y’all tell? (I did pass) 

[hairringtonsteve]

and they were roommates.

[steve harrington x reader]

summary: The shit hit the fan, and you need to find a place to stay. Steve Harrington, being the knight in shining armor that he is, offers to let you crash at his place during the quarantine. Clearly, feelings ensue. 

word count: 3,704

a/n: Hey guys. I’m back. The world is a little bit scarier than it was before, but we’re here and we’re getting through it. I need to emphasize that while this fic is lighthearted, it’s not me making fun of the situation. This last week has been excruciatingly stressful for me as well as the rest of us, and honestly, I just need some fluff. So here’s to you and Steve being stuck in an apartment together. Informational links will be located in the first reblog.

**********

“Do we stockpile toilet paper?”

You snorted in response, assuming that he was kidding. Instead of bothering to look at him, you kept your eyes on the Netflix menu, scrolling through the list of horror movies as you tried to ignore the anxiety building in your gut.

If someone had told you at the beginning of the year that you would end up being stuck living in Steve Harrington’s apartment for who knows how long because of a global pandemic, you would have laughed.

But who could have guessed that it would happen? Who could have guessed that your college would shut down and shift everything online, that you wouldn’t be able to fly back home because flights were too expensive? Who could have guessed that Steve Harrington would somehow have perfect timing and walk by just as you burst into tears over flight costs?

“No really, do we stockpile toilet paper?”

You ignored him and kept scrolling.

Really, though, his timing had been perfect. You’d been searching Google for the last twenty minutes, trying to find a flight back home when the cheapest flight out was still over two thousand dollars. Sitting on the steps of your college building – the one that had become like a second home to you since the dorms were awful – you’d shoved your head into your hands and cried.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Steve had asked. You didn’t bother to look up at him, instead opting to take in deep, calming breaths. “You good?” He sat down beside you, not bothering to keep his distance.

The news had been telling everyone to practice social distancing, but it was hard when you were suddenly hit with the reality that you probably wouldn’t see most of these people again. Everyone had thought that you wouldn’t start the I’m graduating college goodbyes until May.

“Oh, you know,” you began as you lifted your head up but didn’t look at him. Your voice was watery as you spoke. “Global pandemic and all that. I’m fine.” Steve leaned over your shoulder to get a glance at your phone.

“Fuck, that’s rough. You trying to get home?”

You’d gotten the email the night before. Sitting in the common area of your building despite the fact that your classes had ended hours ago, the group from your department had all sat at the various tables in shocked silence. Students out of the dorms within ten days unless there were extenuating circumstances. They hadn’t defined what those circumstances would have to consist of, but you knew deep down that you wouldn’t qualify.

“Yeah, I uh… My mom can’t afford it and neither can I.” A new wave of tears started to sting at your eyes. A few made their way down your cheeks. “I’ve got ten days, though. I can figure it out.”

Steve sighed. You finally looked over to him. The tears made him a little blurry.

“My roommate is flying out tonight,” he said. He looked forward before looking back to you. “I’m sure he’d be cool with you crashing in his room until shit gets sorted out.”

You stared at him. Your throat got thicker. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to hold back the sob that wanted to burst through at the offer. Instead of saying anything, you gave him a short nod.

Within an hour the two of you were packing up your dorm room, throwing everything into whatever luggage you had. You hauled the luggage and everything else that couldn’t fit down the four flights of stairs and tossed it into his car. His two-bedroom apartment was a fifteen-minute drive away. There had been a quick goodbye to his roommate – who didn’t know what was going on until you had gotten there – and that was that.

“Toilet paper, Y/N. Do we need it?” A hint of annoyance was coloring his words and you finally shifted around on the couch, twisting your neck far enough so you could see him. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, already holding two packs of toilet paper, eight rolls in each.

“Dude, seriously?”

“What? What if we use it all up?”

“Then we go to the store and get more.”

“What if they put us under martial law and we’re not allowed to go anywhere?”

“Then we’ll figure that out. But we have enough for now. We’re not hoarding toilet paper like the rest of the assholes out there.” He tilted his head back and groaned. “Steve, c’mon. It’s fine. It’ll—” You were interrupted by your phone beeping, alerting you to a text. You ignored it. It was probably your mom, checking in. Again. “Steve, it’ll be okay. We’ll have enough toilet paper. We just need to go get food and beer, and we’ll go from there.”

Steve stared at you. “But what if one of us gets diahre—”

“Okay, that’s it. Get your shoes on. We’re heading to the store, dumbass.”

Steve grinned. “Wow, dumbass? It’s like we’re back in biochem.”

You snorted and got up from your spot on the couch, heading to where you’d taken off your sneakers near the door. You’d placed them next to his. It hit you, that your sneakers and his sneakers would be right there for the foreseeable future because of… everything that was going on. You swallowed, the anxiety that had been settled in your gut for over a week now threatening to rise to your throat. But you sucked in a deep breath, willing yourself to keep calm.

Things were fine. It would be okay.

Steve came up beside you and reached down to shove his shoes on. When he righted himself, he bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned.

“Think the beer will be gone?”

*****

The grocery store looked like it was ransacked. The toilet paper and baby wipes were off the shelves. People had grocery carts piled high with nonperishables and whatever else they could get their hands on.

You and Steve locked eyes without a word. His fingers thrummed against the railing of the last grocery cart that had been available while he raised a brow at you. You nodded and the two of you headed straight for the alcohol.

It took twice as long as usual to walk the length of the store to get to the far corner where they held the beer and liquor. Not surprisingly, the area was filled with mostly college-age looking people trying to get their hands on whatever would get them adequately fucked up for the next few weeks.

Steve cleared his throat and nodded towards the beer, the one that everyone had been studiously avoiding. “Should we get some?” He waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes. “No, that stuff tastes like piss.” He laughed and pushed the cart forward, stopping to get a case of Angry Orchard. “You like that stuff?”

“No, but it’s your favorite, right?”

You nodded as you tried to remember when he would have been able to figure that out. The first time that you’d met was last fall, when you had the same biochemistry lab together. “Yeah?”

“I thought so. I remember you mentioning something about it the night all of us went out after our final in December.”

That had been over three months ago. But everyone in the lab had gone out for drinks to celebrate making it through finals week. At the time, you’d exchanged a handful of words at most. Hell, you hadn’t even mentioned that it was your favorite directly to him. Something shifted in your chest.

Weird.

After that, things grew quieter between the two of you as you made your way systematically through the store. With the alcohol, you got some staples, some favorites, making sure to take into consideration the fact that there would probably be a few nights where the two of you would drink enough to kill a horse. After that, you started to make your way through the food aisles, getting whatever was left over. While most of it was taken, you got the important stuff: bread, vegetables, fruit, meat, peanut butter. Things were scarce, but you got through it.

And the whole time, your stomach was sinking further and further down.

Things weren’t supposed to go this way. All you could think about was the day prior as your professors had said their goodbyes to the students, everyone trying to keep a brave face. Rationally, you knew that things would eventually be fine. But it was hard to keep that in mind when it felt like the beginning of an apocalypse movie.

“—You good to go?”

“Huh?” You looked over to Steve, blinking. At some point, the two of you had made it to the front of the store.

He smiled, soft and understanding. “I asked if you were good to go. We should probably get in line. They’re just getting longer.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” It took a few minutes to try to find the shortest line (if you could call any of them short. You glanced towards the front of the line, watching as the over-worked cashiers struggled to keep everyone happy. Looking back to Steve, you leaned against the grocery cart. “Have I thanked you yet for letting me crash at your place?”

“Only about ten times, but I haven’t figured out that you’re appreciative yet, so you could go for eleven.” You laughed and rolled your eyes as the line moved forward about an inch.

“Seriously, Steve. Thank you. You didn’t have to offer.”

Steve shrugged. “I kind of did. I can’t live alone.”

You scoffed. “You think we can live together and not want to murder each other?”

Steve shrugged once more. “As long as you let me win at Mario Party, we’ll be fine.”

The anxiety in your chest eased up a little. Maybe staying with Steve wouldn’t be too bad.

***** 

As it turned out, being around Steve Harrington constantly was a lot to handle. He was adamant that the two of you worked together daily on your coursework. He’d said that it was to make it just like being on campus as much as possible, but the two of you knew that it was really just an excuse to bicker over homework and steal each other’s pens.

It was weird, knowing these little intimate details about him that you only find out when you live with someone. He sang while he did the dishes. He never made his bed and left video game cases strewn throughout the living room. He had a habit of falling asleep on the couch in the most uncomfortable positions. He preferred tea to coffee, sweet to savory, and had a weird lack of movie knowledge. He also played a lot of Fortnite with a bunch of kids from his hometown.

When you asked him about it, he’d just shrugged and said: “I’m a really great babysitter, what can I say?”

To which you’d heard, muffled through his headset, a boy’s voice shriek, “Bullshit Steve!”

The biggest problem, though, was that he was starting to get to you.

Objectively, you’d understood that he was conventionally attractive. A guy with hair that nice couldn’t be wholly unattractive.

It was just that it didn’t really hit you until two days into quarantine. You wandered around out of your room, too occupied with replying to a text to keep yourself from running into a shirtless Steve, complete with a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his hair.

His hands wrapped themselves around your arms as he pushed you back a little, making sure that both you remained upright. The two of you locked eyes. You were close enough that you could see the little flecks of gold in them. 

Oh. 

Oh.

Your stomach flipped and suddenly you were acutely aware of him. Your eyes started to slide from his face – taking in his nose, his jawline, his mouth – to his chest when he let out a choked sort of noise.

“Please don’t look down,” he said, his voice higher than you’d ever heard it before. You looked back up at him, scrunching up your brow. “The towel fell and I… Naked.”

There were maybe three seconds of silence before you burst out laughing. You took a step back, clapping a hand over your eyes as you struggled to breathe. 

There you were, in the middle of quarantine during a global pandemic, and Steve Harrington was naked and dripping wet in front of you. 

“Just shut it, okay?”

You tried to stifle the laughter, but it just turned into muffled giggles. “You good to go there, Harrington?” You could hear a bunch of shuffling along with some muttered swearing before eventually, he gave the okay for you to look. Your hand dropped from your face and the laughter died out as you got a good look at his chest. 

It took him clearing his throat for you to meet his eyes once more. He was looking at you with an intense look on his face. His tongue darted across his lips as he took a step towards you. Your heart thudded in your chest and just as he took another step forward and then — 

A knock at the door. 

The two of you jerked back. You almost knocked your head into a shelf while Steve said that he’d get the door. You watched as he stepped forward, raising an eyebrow in silence as he turned back to you, a sheepish look on his face. 

“Did you just now realize that you’re…” You trailed off as you waved your hand up and down to motion towards the towel. He nodded, his cheeks growing red. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll get it.” 

He’d scurried down the hall to change while you opened the door to one of Steve’s neighbors clad in a mask, asking if you guys had any extra toilet paper.

You got the elderly man two rolls and waited for Steve to come back out of his bedroom.

He didn’t come out for the rest of the night.

That was twelve days ago and since then, the two of you had been avoiding each other like… well... the plague.

Instead, Steve would walk into the kitchen, only to see you and abruptly turn around to walk out. You would head into the living room to watch Netflix and immediately try to leave when he was playing the PlayStation. When the two of you did talk, it was weird. Stunted.

“What do you want for dinner?” 

“Whatever you want.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Cool.” 

On and on it went, both of you hole-ing up in your respective rooms while trying to avoid the other. You even took turns doing the grocery shopping.  

The worst part about it, though, was how aware you were of him. When you walked by him in the hallway, your senses honed in on the way your arms brushed. When he was leaning against the counter and shoving his fingers through his hair, your gaze would somehow magnetically drawn towards looking at him regardless of what was on the TV. 

You had to shove your face into a pillow every time you heard the shower turn on.

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. Crushes – and that’s what this was, a full-blown crush – were awful to begin with. They were inconvenient and distracting in the best of times. But this? This was downright torture. Utter and complete torture. You felt like you were going to snap at any moment, ready to combust at a second’s notice.

And then you got the alert on your phone. You were sat on the counter, a spoonful of peanut butter shoved halfway in your mouth. Your thumb flicked the notification bar down as you read the headline. It wasn’t anything different, just an update on the virus spread and the estimated time that it would take for things to calm down.

But that meant that you would be there longer.  That meant that you would be in that apartment longer, having to go through silence and awkwardness and who knows what else for an “indeterminate amount of time.” Something inside you snapped. You hopped down from the counter, chucked the spoon of peanut butter into the sink, and hurried down the hall towards his bedroom.

After around five hurried knocks, the door swung open. He had a panicked look in his eyes as he stared down at you. “What? What’s going on? Did something happen?” He was frantic as he stared down at you. 

“What?” 

“You knocked like someone important just died, and I missed it. What’s going on?” 

“I — I just wanted to talk?” 

Steve blinked at you. “We’re… There’s a global disaster going on and you choose to knock like that so we can talk?”

“Steve, I knocked on your door. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“There’s knocking on a door, and then there’s whatever the hell you did.” He stepped outside of his room, causing you to step back as well to give him some space. “So this —” He knocked against his door three times, slow and not too hard. “-- Is how normal people knock. And this —” There he knocked hard and fast against the wood, exaggerating how hard you’d knocked. “Is how you knocked. Now clearly, there is a difference and you almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“You’re dramatic.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “So what’s up?” He crossed his arms and quirked a brow.

You heaved in a breath and started rambling.

“I — Look, I get it if things were weird because I practically saw you naked but we’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic and I’m stuck in your apartment for who knows how long and I can’t keep avoiding you like this. It’s weird, Steve.” 

He just stared at you and didn’t say a word. So you kept rambling. 

“I get it that you’re really stressed out and I am too, but Steve, this is just making things worse? And like, honestly it’s not that big of a deal. You were shirtless. It was fine. More than fine, actually. Like, it’s cool. It’s —” 

“More than fine?” 

You stared at him. “What?” 

“You just said that me being shirtless was not only fine but more than fine.” 

You could feel your cheeks begin to warm. “I don’t — I —” 

Steve took a step forward. “Is me being shirtless more than fine with you?” 

You gaped at him, frozen. 

“Do you like me being shirtless?” There was a smirk on his face now, as though your silence was enough of an answer. 

“Steve, I —” He took another step forward, right in your space. He leaned down a little. Your heart was pounding in your chest. 

 “You like me shirtless.” He wasn’t asking anymore. Your rational brain wasn’t working. You opened your mouth to reply something, anything, and what came out was: 

“We’re supposed to self-distance.”

Steve froze, eyes wide, and took a step back. “Did I — Did I misread? I thought—” 

You tried to shake your head, hoping that he’d notice, but he was too caught up in the panic of thinking that he’d misread everything and crossed a boundary. So you did the next best thing. 

(Really, the thing that you should have done a week ago.)

You reached out, fingers grasping at his shirt and tugged him towards you. You rolled up onto the tips of your toes and pressed your lips against his. He froze, his words falling silent. Your heart was pounding so hard that you feared it would come out of your chest. Slowly, his hands fell to your waist as his lips began to move. He pulled you closer to him, all thoughts of social distancing falling away as you kissed. 

Eventually, he pulled away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “We’re supposed to self-distance?” He asked, a slow grin spreading across his features. You rolled your eyes and tried to pull back, but he gripped your waist a little tighter, keeping you there. 

“I panicked, okay? You just — I just didn’t expect it to go that way.” He didn’t respond verbally, instead just raising his brow. “It’s been weird not talking to you and being here. And I didn’t mean to say that about you being shirtless, it just kind of slipped out.” 

“Why are you acting like that wasn’t okay? Y/N, you know I’ve liked you since the first day of biochem.” 

You blinked. 

“Seriously, you had to have known. I was hung up on you.”

You blinked again. 

“Y/N, I laughed at all of your terrible jokes in lab. I… offered to let you stay in my apartment during the quarantine.” While he’d started off laughing, by the second sentence, he was speaking slow and soft, enunciating every word. You opened your mouth to reply when he continued. “I let you win at Mario Party, come on. You’re terrible at that.” 

Whatever thoughts of acknowledging his feelings flew out of your head at that. “Excuse you, I am great at Mario Party. I kicked your ass at that the first two days that we were here.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I purposefully lost to make you feel better.” Your expression softened at his words. He pulled away just a little — his hands still on your waist — to stare up at the ceiling. “You were stressed about your mom constantly texting and I know that it’s hard for you to not be with your family. So I just wanted to make it easier on you.” He looked back down at you. 

Warmth bloomed in your chest. 

You smiled up at him as you searched for the right thing to say in response. But it was hard. There weren’t words to convey just how thankful you were for that. You leaned up to press your lips against his once more. After a moment, you pulled back just enough to look at him and grinned. 

“So, you want to go play some Mario Party?”

[searchingwardrobes]

The Christmas Wish: 2/4

This fic is first and foremost a gift for @snowbellewells​, so of course it has to include a few of her favorite things. Chapter one had Captain Cobra, Daddy Charming, and Emma naming her son Graham. This chapter includes more of the first two and a favorite character of Marta’s in a way I hope she enjoys. Merry Christmas, my fandom twin! And many thanks to my beta, @kmomof4​ !

I also should warn that this is a bit of a slow burn, so don’t get too comfortable with the end of this chapter ;)

Summary: Emma leaned forward, closed her eyes, and a wish bubbled up unbidden from the depths of her heart. “I wish I could just have a simple, domestic life. Is that even in the cards for me?” Breath left her on an exhale just as the wish floated through her mind, and the candle blew out. The “answer” to her wish had to be some kind of trick, however. After all, it wasn’t as if anything in the vision she received could ever in a million years be real. It was ridiculous. Captain Hook, the father of three driving a minivan? Impossible.

Rated G for Hallmark movie levels of fluff and Christmas feels

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals:  @teamhook​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @welllpthisishappening​​ @optomisticgirl​​ @hookedonapirate​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​ @spartanguard​​ @let-it-raines​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @vvbooklady1256​​ @scientificapricot​​ @superchocovian​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @jrob64​​ @wellhellotragic​​ @winterbythesea​​ @winterbaby89​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @carpedzem​​ @thesschesthair​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @cutieodonoghue​​ @justbecauseyoubelievesomething​​ @juliakaze​​  @thisonesatellite​​ @therealstartraveller776​​ @thislassishooked​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @killian-whump​

Chapter Two: Hope

“You’re being awfully quiet.”

Emma barely registered her father’s words as he drove them back to Granny’s. Her mind was still reeling from what she had seen.

“I mean, I’m glad your vision is back,” David continued, his words trailing off.

Emma turned in her seat to look at him. “It is, and I’m fine. Really.”

He glanced at her with concern in his eyes. “What did that doctor do? You seemed pretty upset.”

Emma rubbed at her temple wearily. “She gave me some drops, and my vision cleared. That’s all. It was just so sudden, it sort of freaked me out.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. What caused it to begin with? Did she have you make a follow up appointment?”

She started to open her mouth to protest again that everything was fine, but then she quickly changed her tactic. “Yeah, actually, she did. I’m going back in a few days.”

David’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief. Emma rested her hand in the crook of his elbow and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

“It was just stress, lack of sleep, and probably the shock my system got when my memories came back.” She forced herself to chuckle, and David managed to smile.

“In that case, you need to rest.”

She started to protest as he turned the truck towards Granny’s instead of towards the sheriff’s station, but the words died on her lips. Partly from her father’s stern glare and partly with the thought that time off to rest also meant time with Henry. She still worried about where the witch was hiding out, who cast this new curse, and a dozen other fairy tale related problems, but in this moment, worry for her son and their relationship won out. After all, it was Christmas. Emma pulled out her phone to call him.

“Mom! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, kid, everything’s fine. I can see again.”

“Thank God,” Henry sighed. He turned away from the phone to talk to Hook, then came back on the line. “Killian is happy too.”

A vivid image of the way he smiled at her in that vision floated across her mind, but Emma shook it away.

“Tell him thanks,” she said, her voice strained, “for everything, and that we’re pulling into Granny’s as I speak.”

“Oh, um . . . about that. We went out.”

“You did? Where?”

“Come on, Mom, it’s Christmas. I gotta have some secrets.”

Emma couldn’t help the smile that curled her lips. “Shopping already? I haven’t even started yet.”

Come to think of it, she’d better get on that. Did Amazon deliver to Storybrooke? Because unless Henry wanted a gift that was vintage, online shopping would be her only option.

“Um, you could say that,” Henry answered cryptically. “Killian says to call before you head back to our room, okay?”

Hmmm, that was suspicious. “Okay, whatever you say.” She hung up and looked back at her father with a grin. “Well, looks like I’m on my own for a bit. Have you had breakfast yet?”

David smiled back. “No, I was too worried about my daughter.”

“Well, your daughter’s fine, so how about some of Granny’s pancakes?”

“You’re on.”

***********************************************

Emma had lingered over pancakes with David for an hour before Henry called her back. Now she was heading upstairs to their rooms, her curiosity mounting with each step. She could hear Henry’s voice and Hook’s as she reached for the doorknob, but she didn’t announce her presence. They didn’t notice her when she first entered the room, and she froze near the door at the sight before her eyes. Killian saw her first.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed as a beaming smile filled his face. He was wedged between the window and a slender douglas fir. Needles littered the carpet and boxes were stacked haphazardly all around her son and the pirate, boxes of brand new ornaments - balls of red, green, and gold. A strand of colored lights encircled the tree, and Killian’s hook was adjusting a golden star that sat upon the highest bough.

“Mom!” Henry exclaimed. “Isn’t it awesome? I was telling Killian about what I missed about Christmas in New York, so we decided to surprise you. I mean, we can’t have Christmas without a tree.”

Emma was positively speechless, and she knew her mouth was hanging open. Henry’s eyes narrowed with concern.

“I mean, you are surprised, right Mom?”

Emma shook her head and smiled at her son. “Of course I’m surprised. Thrilled.”

“Well,” Killian said brightly, “you’re just in time for the big moment.”

Henry came to stand beside her, slipping his arm around her waist. Killian bent and picked up the end of the cord of lights and plugged it into the nearest outlet. For a moment, the big colored bulbs flickered to light, but then there was a loud pop, sparks flashed from the outlet, and the bottom branches of the tree were suddenly orange with flames. All three of them shouted, and Emma dashed for the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water while Killian yanked the cord out of the wall. He swore loudly as a shock went through his hand. Emma threw the water at the tree. Luckily, only one branch had sparked and the water was enough to put out the flames. Unfortunately, it was enough to trigger the room’s smoke alarm.

Emma tossed aside the water bottle and leapt onto the sofa nearest the alarm. She grabbed her scarf from where she’d discarded it when she came in, and waved it at the alarm. Killian opened the window while Henry tried to wave the smoke outside.

And that was how Granny found them.

“What the hell are you doing to my inn?”

They all answered her simultaneously, shouting over the alarm that was still blaring.

“It’s nothing.”

“The fire’s been doused.”

“It was these old lights!”

Granny crossed her arms to glare at them just as the smoke alarm finally ceased its screeching. Emma dropped the scarf, but she was still on top of the sofa. With her boots on. Killian and Henry still stood sheepishly in front of the window, and a frigid breeze blew through the room.

“I told Killian these lights didn’t look good,” Henry finally spoke up, “but it’s all the drug store had. I mean look at these things, they look like they’ve been sitting on the shelf since 1983.”

They probably had.

“Did I say you could have a tree in here?” Granny demanded.

Hook scratched behind his ear while tossing his most charming grin Granny’s way. “I didn’t think you would deny the boy a proper Christmas.”

Granny deflated at that, then rolled her eyes. “Fine. But no lights, okay. It’s a fire hazard.”

They all mumbled their agreement to the conditions as Granny left, shutting the door firmly behind her. Then they all glanced at one another tentatively. Emma looked at poor Henry’s and Hook’s pitiful expressions, then at the charred bottom corner of the tree, and she suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. It took them a minute, but Henry and Killian joined her merriment. Henry collapsed next to her on the couch, laughing, as Killian shut the window.

“Well,” he told them, a chuckle coloring his voice as he took in the tree, “It’s not too bad, considering we burned half of it.”

Emma wiped away tears of laughter. “You didn’t burn half of it, only about . . . a fifth of it?”

“Not even,” Henry disagreed, “maybe a tenth of it.”

They all dissolved into laughter again, but when Killian joined them on the sofa, Emma sobered. She suddenly remembered the words of the little girl in her vision.

Mama did Daddy really almost burn down Granny’s when he got you a Christmas tree?

Oh, shit.

“You okay, Swan?” Killian asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

It’s okay, Emma, calm down. So he got you a Christmas tree. That caught on fire. At Granny’s. It means nothing. I mean you’d never in a million years buy an ugly Christmas sweater, much less wear one . . . .

***********************************************

Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that the other shoe was about to drop. Things had been way too calm the past week, and Emma highly doubted that the Wicked Witch of the West was simply feeling the holiday spirit.

“We’re going to find her, love.”

Emma’s head snapped up at Killian’s words, and he arched a brow at her over the rim of his coffee mug. After taking a sip, he set his coffee down and studied her with an open expression.

“And when we do,” he continued, “you will defeat her.”

Emma snorted. “Why? Because I’m the Savior?”

“No. Because you’re tough and brilliant, and as I said in Neverland, I have yet to see you fail.”

Emma couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks at his praise, and she ran the tines of her fork through the syrup on her breakfast plate. Regina and Robin were taking Roland ice skating, and had asked if Henry wanted to come. Emma was relieved when he had jumped at the invitation. She had never seen such a vulnerable expression on the Evil Queen’s face.

She and Killian were lingering over breakfast in Henry’s absence, nursing their second cups of coffee, and while Emma was slightly surprised at how comfortable it was to be here with him like this, tension still wouldn’t leave the set of her shoulders. It was that damn other shoe - hovering over their heads like a storm cloud.

“I just feel like we should be doing something,” she grumbled, dropping her fork with a clatter.

“We’ve done all we can,” Killian tried to encourage her. “We’ve searched every inch of the forest and found nothing.”

“Then maybe we should interview everyone in town who’s new . . . “ She trailed off as she thought about the mysterious triplets who had already messed with her mind.

“Just enjoy the season, Emma.”

“You’re starting to sound like my parents.”

“Well, you hero types are rubbing off on me I suppose,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug.

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re a hero now, too.”

He lowered his gaze into his cup of coffee. “I’m not so sure about that, love.”

“You came to find me in New York, didn’t you?”

Before he could respond to that fact, Granny appeared in front of their booth holding two Christmas packages in her hands. Emma and Killian exchanged nervous glances, unsure if the woman was still pissed at them over the Christmas tree fiasco.

“I just wanted to say no hard feelings,” Granny told them in her no-nonsense way. “I know you were just trying to give Henry a decent Christmas, and it’s Hooks first in this realm, so . . . Anyway, I got you both something.”

She thrust a rectangular package into Emma’s arms and a square one into Killian’s. Both were wrapped in bright paper and decorated with ribbons and bows. The smile on Killian’s face was filled with childlike wonder as he eagerly made quick work of the wrapping with his hook.

“Did you make this for me, Mrs. Lucas?” Killian exclaimed when he saw the contents of the box.

“Of course I made it. I noticed you didn’t have one, and Maine winters can get mighty cold.”

Emma almost spit her next sip of coffee across the table when Killian pulled a gray wool beanie out of the box. Her jaw almost hit the formica when he actually plopped the beanie onto his head and pulled it down over the tips of his ears. His dark hair curled around the edges of it, and Emma was surprised to find herself thinking how cute he was. Captain Hook was cute. He really, really was, especially with that goofy smile on his face that cut wide dimples into his cheeks. Emma hugged her own gift to her chest.

“Thank you,” Killian humbly told Granny.

The women glanced at Emma, who was almost crushing her gift and didn’t seem to plan on relinquishing it anytime soon. She just couldn’t stop staring at the man across from her.

“Well,” Granny said briskly, “I’ve got things to see to in the kitchen.”

“What do you think?” Killian asked her. “How do I look?”

“It . . . um . . . it covers your ears.”

Killian tugged gently at one side of the hat and then the other. “Well, those tend to get cold the quickest.”

“I like your ears.” Why was she whispering?

She expected him to get cocky and toss some innuendo her way, but instead, he blushed and scratched behind one of those adorable ears of his. “Well, uh, you would be the first.”

“But why? They’re cute!”

“They’re pointed.”

“That’s what makes them cute.”

He was blushing and she loved it. “I got teased as a boy for them.”

“Kids can be mean. Are you part elf by any chance?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

She shrugged. “Around here, you never know.”

“True.” He cleared his throat as he removed the hat. His hair stuck up in all directions, and that was cute too. He gestured towards her gift. “Open yours, love.”

“Oh, right.” She tore off the paper and ribbons, then set the box down on the table. When she lifted the lid, she froze.

“Okay, so that’s . . . interesting,” Killian murmured as he leaned over to see.

Lying there in the box in front of Emma was an ugly Christmas sweater. Of a Christmas tree. With pom pom balls decorating it. Just like in her vision.

“Oh you opened it!” Granny exclaimed as she suddenly appeared at Emma’s side. “I heard they’re all the rage right now.”

“They are?” Killian asked hesitantly. Emma could understand his confusion.

“It’s an ugly Christmas sweater,” she explained.

Killian blanched. “Emma, that’s rude.”

Granny laughed. “No, it’s ugly on purpose, Captain.”

“So this is another tradition of this holiday? To clothe oneself in ugly garments?”

Emma couldn’t help giggling at his confused expression and the way he so eloquently expressed it. “I know it sounds weird, but Granny’s right. People buy the ugliest Christmas sweater they can find, then they go to a party where everyone votes on which one is the ugliest.”

“And Snow and Ruby and I have decided to throw an ugly Christmas sweater party here in the diner on Christmas Eve!” Granny announced with obvious excitement.

“Well, Swan,” Killian told her with a crooked smile, “you might just be a shoe-in for the grand prize.”

Emma’s hands shook and her smile wobbled as she ran her fingers over the green wool. Mama, you have to wear the tree shirt to get the tree. Its ta-dition! Emma remembered her swollen belly straining against the very sweater in front of her, and suddenly the diner felt claustrophobic.

“Excuse me,” she apologized as she leapt up, practically shoved Granny out of the way, and took off down the hall towards the inn. She ignored the cries of concern from both Killian and Granny, not slowing down until she was in her rooms on the third floor. As the door shut behind her, she was glad Henry was gone. She slid to the floor, her legs unable to hold her. First the tree, now the beanie and the ugly Christmas sweater? What the hell was going on?

*************************************************

The other shoe had dropped. Emma would have said I told you so, but that seemed a little cruel when they had discovered that The Wicked Witch was her mother’s midwife and had some creepy plans for her baby brother.

She, Regina, and Killian were at the library where Belle was helping them research spells that involved babies. Not Emma’s preferred way to spend the 18th of December. Most people would be attending an office party or caroling or baking cookies, not reading up on creepy things witches like to do to innocent babies.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Emma announced, slamming shut yet another dusty tome. “I want to go back to the inn and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas with Henry while drinking hot cocoa. The exact opposite of this.”

“I agree,” Regina concurred, rubbing wearily at her forehead. “Let’s take a break and reconvene in the morning.”

“Thank God,” Killian added, pushing back from the table and standing up.

They marked their places and stacked the books on a cart for the morning. Then they all donned their winter gear and headed for the door so Belle could lock up. Regina hurried down the snowy sidewalk to her car, but Emma paused as she watched Belle searching for the right key.

“You coming, Swan?” Killian asked, turning as he stepped out on the sidewalk.

“Just a minute. I need to ask Belle something. Can you help Henry get the cocoa and I’ll be there in a bit?”

“As you wish,” he told her softly with a slight bow of his head.

She smiled as he walked away, that phrase never ceasing to make her heart flutter. Then she turned back to Belle.

“Um, could I ask you to look up something for me?” She asked the librarian hesitantly.

“Something else about the witch?”

“Uh, no, this is . . . private.”

“Okay,” Belle said, curiosity coloring her tone.

“There are these triplets,” Emma began, “who came with the new curse, and I need to figure out who they are in the Enchanted Forest. You know, who their . . . fairy tale personas are?”

Belle smiled. “Not everyone is a famous character you know.”

“Believe me, these women are somebody . . . magical. I’ve seen their powers for myself.”

“Is everything alright?” Belle asked with concern.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. They think they’re helping me, I guess. I mean, I think. It’s complicated.”

Her face burned as she stammered, and Emma prayed that Belle wouldn’t press her further.

“Alright, well, who are they? Here in Storybrooke, I mean.”

“Felicity Clotho who owns the new cupcakery, Liv Lachesis the new optometrist, and Avery Atropos, the optometrist’s receptionist.”

Belle’s face broke into a beaming grin. “Why Emma, it’s obvious! Their last names tell us everything: Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, the three fates.”

“As in Greek mythology? You mean that stuff’s all real too?”

Belle laughed. “It sure is. I beat Killian has plenty of stories about run-ins with Poseidon.”

“Great,” Emma muttered with a roll of her eyes, “so we have to deal with Percy Jackson crap too. So what do these fates do?”

“Well, legend says that Clotho spins the thread of each of our lives, Lachesis maintains it, and Atropos cuts the thread when our lives end.”

“I guess I should be glad Avery didn’t cast the spell,” Emma muttered.

“Emma,” Belle said softly, gently touching her arm, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”

For some reason, the librarian's words caused tears to well in Emma’s eyes, and before she knew it, it was all pouring out of her: the cupcake, the candle, waking up without her sight, and what happened at the optometrist’s office. It was embarrassing word vomit, right there in front of the library on the snowy sidewalk, and by the end of it, Belle had her arm around her.

“And it all seemed insane, you know?” Emma finished. “I mean, none of it seemed plausible, but then the tree caught on fire, and Granny gave us those ridiculous gifts, and I don’t know, I’m so confused!”

“Are you?”

Emma choked out a strangled laugh. “I mean, there’s always been this attraction between us, and the man can kiss -” Emma raised a hand when she saw Belle’s eyebrows raise “but attraction and a passionate kiss is one thing. That vision . . . . it’s . . . .”

“A happy ending?” Belle supplied.

“Yeah,” Emma said softly, “and I just don’t know that I believe in that. Happy endings and true love. At least not for me.”

Emma waited for the true love speech from the Disney princess turned town librarian, but instead, Belle pulled her close in a tight hug. For a moment, she didn’t speak, then she pulled back and gave Emma a gentle look.

“I know your early years were full of loneliness and pain, Emma, but those years are in the past. Maybe that’s why Felicity Clothos, the spinner, got involved. Maybe she - and her sister Dr. Lachesis - wanted to give you the gift of hope. If anyone deserves it, Emma, it’s you.”

In some ways, it sounded like something Emma’s mother would say, but it was different coming from Belle. This was from a woman who had suffered so much heartbreak. Heartbreak caused by a man who, in Emma’s opinion, didn’t deserve the love of someone as kind and generous as Belle. Yet here Belle was, encouraging Emma to take hold of the happy ending in front of her.

“You’re a wonderful friend, Belle.”

“So are you, Emma.”

The two women hugged again, and when they stepped apart, Emma crinkled her nose and squinted her eyes with worry.

“Being a good friend means you’ll keep this a secret, right? Especially from my mom?”

Belle threw back her head and laughed. “My lips are sealed.” Then Belle winked at Emma. “Now hurry off to enjoy that cocoa and the man making it.”

“Belle!” Emma exclaimed, her cheeks heating.

She did hurry, though.

[thejilyship]

It’s just Coffee

Lily is partnered with James for an Econ project that he seems unwilling to make time for. When he shows up forty minutes late to her flat, she finds out why.

single parent, college, modern, muggle au

ff.net | ao3

Lily Evans to James Potter: You’re late. Again.

James: I know, and I’m very sorry, but it was unavoidable

Lily: Of course it was.  

James: I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Lily: If you’re any later than that, I’m going to lock the door and not let you in.

James: Completely fair! See you in a few

James: Also, I have to bring someone with me, hope that’s alright!

Lily: I s2g, it better not be Sirius

James: it’s not Sirius, he’s on a date and he’s a git and I’m never speaking to him again

James: I’ll be there soon

 Lily put her phone down and frowned. She tapped her pencil against her textbook and looked up at the clock. He’d said that he’d meet with her at six so they could finish this stupid group project that they’d been partnered by their professor to do.

James was not the person that Lily would have chosen to be her partner. Not only was it now six thirty, and he hadn’t even texted to let her know that he was running late, but he’d been late to their last meet up as well. He hadn’t even wanted to meet up the last time. He’d tried to convince her that they could just finish their project after class, even though Lily had another class to get to just thirty minutes after.

But it was fine.

She took a deep breath through her nose and then slowly let it out. This was the last time that they’d have to meet up, and then she could go back to hating this class solely for the damned TA’s unjust disdain for her and the boring source material.

She looked over what she and James had scrapped together so far, and what she’d added for the both of them since she’d been sitting here for almost forty minutes now. It was a short presentation about economic principals. The work was tedious and monotonous, she’d almost offered to just put the entire thing together on her own multiple times just because he was always acting like he had something better to do and she was annoyed with him.

But she couldn’t in good conscious, let someone else take a grade that she worked for, whether it had been difficult to get or not.

She had almost been looking forward to working with James when they were first partnered. He was cute, and he was funny, and he usually sat next to her and there had definitely been some flirting. She knew very little about him. He was a football player, he had amazing hair that he was constantly playing with, his eyes were dangerously mesmerizing, and he was late for class almost every day.

It was six thirty-nine when there was a knock on her door.

Lily felt both annoyed that he’d taken nine of the ten minutes, and a bit guilty for giving him such a hard time. People were busy, sometimes time got away from them.

But as she walked to the door, she got annoyed again because showing up forty minutes late said a lot about how little you thought of the person whose time you were wasting. Her time was valuable too, even if she wasn’t a student athlete. She could have been working on her orgo homework instead of messing around with the font sizes and wording on their presentation while she waited for him.

“I’m sorry,” James said as he walked into her flat. He always walked in like a storm. His hair was wild, his limbs moving with direction and purpose, his eyes flashing. Lily stepped back, giving him a wide girth.

Unlike every other time she’d seen him storm into a room, today, he was carrying a car seat.

“Sirius was supposed to watch Harry for me so that we could finish this project, and then he ‘forgot’ to tell me that he had a date until after I was already supposed to be here. I tried texting Remus, but he’s got his calc lab tonight and Peter’s working in the library- also I didn’t want to be this late, so I didn’t really reach out further than that.” He was talking a mile a minute, but Lily could hardly register what he was saying, she just stared at the round little face in the carrier.

“You have a baby?” She asked, and then she was crouching down so that she could get a better look. “Harry,” She reached out and took his little foot between her thumb and pointer.

“Yeah, Harry. He’s eight months old.” Lily looked up to find James’ hand in his hair. “He’ll probably fall asleep in a bit, so finishing our project shouldn’t be a problem.” He looked at the watch on his wrist and then pushed his glasses up to rub at one of his eyes.

“James, you could have just told me that tonight didn’t work for you.” Lily said, feeling guilty again. He should have communicated better, but he looked a frazzled. “If you need to take him home and put him to bed- I don’t want this stupid project to ruin his night.”

“What?” James’ glasses fell back onto his nose as he looked down at her. “No, he sleeps like a rock, so he’ll be fine. I just left his bag down in the car.” He made to lift the car seat again and Lily shook her head.

“You can leave him with me if you want. I live on the third floor of a building with no elevator. Unless you’re trying to impress someone, it’s insane to carry this thing up and down again.” She gestured to the car seat and he looked as though he was debating something. Lily almost started listing out the reasons she was qualified to be left alone with an infant.

“You’re sure?” James asked before she could tell him that she was CPR certified.  

“Of course.” Lily was sitting cross legged in front of the car seat now, smiling at Harry who was smiling right back at her. She’d already forgotten about econ.

James watched her and Harry for a moment longer and then rushed out the door.

“Well isn’t this a surprise,” Lily said, speaking with Harry as though he was an old acquaintance and not an eight-month-old. “I don’t know why your daddy thought I wouldn’t understand that he needed a bit of leeway here. I thought he just wanted to hang out with his friends or play with his hair, but he was probably with you, yes? And who wouldn’t want to be with you,” She wiggled his foot again and Harry laughed. Lily fought the urge to take the infant out of its car seat and hug him to her chest. “Why are you so cute?” She shook her head and Harry laughed again.

It didn’t take James long to run back up with Harry’s diaper bag.

“I just need a third arm and then this will be easier.” He said, closing her door behind him and setting Harry’s bag next to his own.

“I’m sure your coach doesn’t mind all the extra stairs you just had to scale.” Lily grinned, though she was still looking at Harry. “He’s like a perfect clone. Except for the eyes.”

James crouched down next to her. “You been paying attention to my eyes, Evans?”

“No, I’ve simply noticed that they’re not this brilliant shade of green.” Lily said coolly, turning to give him a look. “Green eyes aren’t nearly as common as people think. So for those of us with green eyes…”

“Sure.” James nodded, “Pretend like you don’t know what color my eyes are.” They were still looking at each other and Harry laughed again, kicking his feet. “Alright, alright, I’ll get you out of there.”

Soon, the three of them were at the table, and James was paying much more attention to their econ assignment than Lily was. But Harry was eating cheerios and kept getting them stuck to his chin and Lily couldn’t be blamed for being distracted.

“Do you want to hold him?” James asked after Lily had leaned across the table to help Harry find the cheerio that was stuck to the tip of his nose.

Lily bit the tip of her tongue and nodded. “I wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.”

James laughed and held Harry out to her across the table. Lily held out her arms, making sure that Harry wanted to come and sit with her before she took him. He reached out to her happily, grabbing a fist full of her hair almost immediately.

“I like her hair too, Harry,” James laughed, picking up a pencil now that his hands were free, and adding a few things to their notes.

“Are you using your child to flirt with me?”

“No,” James looked back up at her, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “I was flirting with you when he wasn’t here. I’m just continuing to flirt with you now that he’s here. I’m being consistent.”

“Ah,” Lily nodded as she gently pulled her hair from Harry’s grip. She tossed it up into a quick plait to prevent it from happening again and then looked over at James again. “I’m sorry I’m not helping.”

James laughed and shook his head. “I noticed that you added to it before I got here. And I brought the distraction. No need to apologize.”

“You did bring the distraction,” Lily agreed, letting Harry stand up on her lap. He started bouncing happily and Lily started singing nonsense that made him laugh some more. “I’m either hilarious, or you’re delirious.” Harry was still laughing, and Lily shook her head. “Delirious then.”

“He normally goes to bed about now.” James nodded, looking at his watch again. It was seven thirty and Lily didn’t feel like they’d been in her flat for almost an hour. She pressed her lips together for a moment and then nodded.

“There’s no reason we can’t finish up the rest of this online. We’ve already got the outline for the rest of the project done.”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind finishing it up that way?” James asked, and it was obvious that he would prefer to take his baby home before he fell asleep, so Lily nodded, even though she was not sure that she wanted to let Harry, or his father, go just yet.

“I don’t mind at all. I told you that I didn’t want to mess with his sleep.”

“Thanks,” His shoulders relaxed, and he started packing up his bag.

“And James,” Lily nabbed his attention. “Next time you can just tell me that you need to reschedule.”

“Oh? Are you going to pretend that you haven’t been very annoyed with my being late all the time?”

“No,” Lily shook her head. “Though I can be more understanding now that I know you’re not blowing off econ just for fun.”

“Right,” James nodded. “It’s not… I mean, it can be a little awkward telling people that I have a kid. And I don’t want to use him as an excuse- unless my mates are trying to get me to go out and get shitfaced on a Tuesday.” He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “And then sometimes I go too long without telling someone that Harry is around, and then it’s awkward when they find out. I’m still trying to work out how to handle it all.”

“Completely unacceptable.” Lily deadpanned. James laughed.

“Right, well, thank you for being understanding and for not getting upset that I had to bring him with me.”

Lily narrowed her brow. “Who would get upset?”

James shrugged. “People have all kinds of weird reactions when you ask them to be accommodating.” James stood up and so Lily did too, sliding Harry deftly to her hip as they made their way toward the door.

“I suppose that’s true. But if you want to bring him to any future projects we have to do, I’ll do my best not to be annoyed.”

James snorted, “Right. You look very annoyed right now.” He put Harry’s snacks back into his pack and then held out his hands to take Harry back.

Lily gave Harry a hug first and then handed him back. “I’m only a little annoyed.”

“So, you like kids, do you?”

“What gave me away?”

James laughed and Lily grinned.

And then Harry was all strapped in and James was carrying everything he had brought with him. “Alright, well then, I’ll text you when he’s down so we can finish up our project. See in class?”

Lily nodded. “Sounds good,” She waved at Harry. “Hope to see you around too, little one.” Harry laughed at her again, but this time it was immediately followed by a big yawn. “I feel you,” She nodded.

She opened the door for James and waved again, this time at him. “See you later.”

 As Lily has thought, their project required no further face to face meetings, which she no longer thought was a relief. Now that she knew James wasn’t some inconsiderate ass who thought it was fine to show up thirty or forty minutes late, she found that she liked more than just his hair or his eyes.

James had texted her after he’d gotten Harry to sleep, only they hadn’t stopped texting after they had finished their project.

And then they never really stopped texting.

And the flirting in class came back tenfold.

She was sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the arm, her head resting on Mary’s lap, and her phone glued in front of her face when Mary tugged on her hair.

“You texting that econ boy again?” She asked.

“You know that I am.”

“I do know that. I was starting a conversation though, and I wasn’t just going to jump right into the middle, was I?”

“You’ve been known to do worse.” Lily set the phone down on her chest and looked up at her friend.

“Have you even seen him outside of class yet?” Mary asked, still looking at her own phone.

“No, but I didn’t even like him until-“

“Until he showed you his baby.” Mary sighed and looked down at her. “Babies are like crack to you.”

“I don’t like him because he has a baby.” Lily said. “I forgave him for being late so often because he has a baby. I liked him before though.”

“You mentioned his hair a couple times,” Mary nodded. “But I wasn’t really trying to give you a hard time for your weird fascination with small humans.”

“It’s not weird to like kids, Mary. You like kids.”

“Sure, and do I wish that I had been home while there had been a baby right here? Where I am every day? Yes, but I was just trying to tease you, let it go so we can get to the point.”

“If you started conversations with your point-“

“Are you going to ask this bloke out?”

Lily pressed her lips together. “Am I allowed to ask him out?”

“Do you want to?”

“I… want him to ask me out.” Mary whacked her on the arm and Lily cried out. “Only so I know that it’s okay! I’ve asked blokes out before, I’m not scared!”

“You are totally a scardy-cat, but have you considered that maybe he doesn’t think it’s okay to ask you out?”

“He said that he was still trying to figure things out with Harry.” Lily said, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.

“So the two of you are just going to keep obnoxiously texting one another to no end?” Mary asked. “And look, if that is the reason that he says no to a date, will it crush you? Will you be unable to go on?”

Lily pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Well then…”

“Alright. Alright I get your point.”

Mary narrowed her brow and stayed quiet.

“What?”

“Well go ahead and ask him out.”

“I can’t do it now! We’re talking about how The Voice was a better show before they made all the rule changes.”

“I don’t know why you’re hung up on that-“

“They need to get Adam back, that’s why.”

“Ask out your boy, Evans. Or else.”

“I don’t like it when you say that. I never know what it means.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“You filled my entire pillowcase with shaving cream once.”

“Well, you’re the one that didn’t listen to me, so who’s fault was that?”

Lily shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “Definitely yours.”

“You’re stalling.” Mary grabbed Lily’s wrist and moved her arm so that Lily’s phone was in front of her face again. “Ask him out. Ask him to dinner here, or for coffee or something else lowkey.”

“You think asking him to dinner here, where I’d cook for him, is lowkey?” Lily’s brow went up. “Remind me to help you out if you ever think about asking someone out.”

“I didn’t say you had to cook for him- you could order in- oh shut up and text him.”

Lily huffed and then clicked on her phone again.

James: Last season was weird anyway just because everyone knew Maelin was going to win from the beginning

Lily: Yes, so I’m going to change the subject now

James: Thank you for the warning lol

Lily: right

Lily: I know that you’re really busy, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime. Coffee maybe?

As soon as she hit send, she shoved her phone into the couch cushions.

“You did it already?” Mary asked, surprised.

“You told me to!” Lily pushed herself up and spun around toward Mary.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I turned off my screen.”

“Well you gotta look!”

“I know that!” Lily pulled her knees up to her chest. “He’s going to say no. He’s going to tell me that he doesn’t have time.”

“You don’t know that.” Mary said. “He might say ‘yes.’”

“He might say ‘yes.’” Lily agreed and then dug her phone out of the cushions.

James: You asking me out, Evans?

“He didn’t even answer yet, he just wants to know if I’m asking him out.” Lily’s heart was in her throat.

“Well then clarify! I should have proofread your text.”

“I asked him if he wanted to go out sometime. That’s pretty clear!”

Lily: Of course, I’m asking you out.

“Is saying ‘of course’ a bit aggressive? It’s too late if you’re going to say yes because I’ve already sent the message.”

“No, it’s cute.” Lily looked at Mary. “Sort of aggressive, but in a cute way. Maybe.”

James: Right, of course you are. Why wouldn’t you?

James: I’d love to go out with you

“He said yes!”

“Okay, play it cool!” Mary was on her knees next to her now.

Lily: Love? Relax. I asked you to coffee

“That’s a bit too cool,” Mary laughed. Lily shoved her.

“Don’t read over my shoulder.”

“I’ll do what I want!” But she sat back down.

Lily bit her tongue and settled back against the couch. She really liked this bloke.

James: It’s your enthusiasm that’s bolstering me thanks

James: You free before class on Thursday?

Lily: I am.

James: You were

James: Meet you at one?

Lily: So I should show up at one thirty then?

James: I can be on time occasionally

Lily: Proof?

James: I can tell that you really do like me

James: I’m so excited for you to tease me in person

Lily: teasing is 90% of how I flirt so

Lily: I hope you don’t mind.

James: Nah, I don’t.

[foreficfandom]

Mystic Messenger - Little Bad Habits (Dating MC)

– Zen –

Litter. Everywhere. Not permanently, he’s not that much of a slob, he does do chores regularly and stuff. But he just ... tosses his clothes and cigarette wrappers and other things literally everywhere, and leaves it for ‘later’. 

Since he’s so anal about his health, he kinda disrupts your own eating habits by coincidence. Grocery shopping can be a challenge when he’s forbidding all desserts and snacks from the cart even though he’s not gonna be eating any of it.

He's bad with technology, so good luck trying to get him to do stuff like answering emails, or paying bills online, or even using apps like Yelp or Uber. You end up in charge of most software in the house. 

It’s sweet that he texts you with random pickup lines and pictures three times a day, but damn it I keep thinking it’s something important I’m expecting, and instead it’s just one of your bathroom selfies with a heart drawn in the fogged up mirror. 

Zen, can you not have these bad tepid takes like ‘women look better without makeup’, or ‘being the man of the house is the mark of being an adult’, or ‘those who couldn’t work for every penny they’ve had don’t deserve it’? No, Zen, let me pout you’re being an idiot right now.

– Yoosung –

AXE bodywash, AXE bodyspray, AXE shampoo. He uses it because it’s ‘manly’? But god it’s so strong and synthetic-smelling. He needs your help in moving away from this brand. 

He’s also prone to clutter, even more so than Zen. It takes a while before he stops leaving all his laundry on the floor and takes that extra step in hanging it up, or folding it into his dresser. And good luck trying to get him to wash dishes every day, rather than leaving it overnight. 

It’d be nice if you were more enthusiastic about my interests, Yoosung. You may not enjoy visiting Sephora as much as I do, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t abandon me at the doorway to hang out at GameStop. 

He does a bunch of these little roommate mistakes like using up all the hot water, or not refilling the Brita, or always leaving the empty toilet paper roll for you. Yoosung, you gotta learn how to live with another person!!

He’ll always be prone to jealousy, which doesn’t cause a problem most days, but if you ever become a fan of some idol or celebrity, be prepared for some pouting, maybe even a cold shoulder or two. He can’t even side-eye the TV like he does catcallers or people on the street, so he’s twice as frustrated. 

– Jaehee –

She’s bad at recycling. She didn’t even do it for a long time, and only started recently. Even now, she’ll toss random plastic bits into either container, paying no mind to whether it’s recyclable or not. She won’t rise milk jugs or tin cans before throwing them away. 

Now that her hair is growing out, she sheds it everywhere. RIP the shower drain, the carpet, the furniture. The two of you gotta invest in rubber mops and lint rollers just for her hair.

She’s a very clean and organized person, except for her makeup, which all sits in a dusty old bag with old leaking bottles getting over everything, brushes and sponges she doesn’t wash, and literally every product is old and expired. And then she kisses you with her lipstick on and causes an acne breakout. 

When she settles down to watch TV while relaxing, she likes to turn her flatscreen up waaayy loud, which is fine unless you’re working on something and the noise is just so distracting. Jaehee, I’m trying to do the books on the cafe, you gotta turn Zen’s musical down!

When she gets colds, she sometimes hides it as long as she can, which makes everyone around her get colds too. She may have been able to avoid a couple of boring sick days, but now you’ve got a sore throat. Thanks, honey, I love you too. 

– Jumin –

He kept calling you in the middle of the day with full expectation that you’d answer every single time, especially during the beginning of the relationship. Jumin, I’ve got my own work. It’s okay if I miss a message or two, I’m not your employee.

He has a physical trainer, dietician, and physician regime that he follows rigorously, and he kinda expected you to do the same even if you didn’t want to. Even now, he brings up a nutrition plan once and a while, even if you are totally not interested in following a food calendar. “It’s for your health, love,” well, Jumin, my health calls for a big bowl of barbecue chips. 

He’s surprisingly clingy in bed. The two of you fall asleep in the middle of the mattress, and by morning you’re hanging on for dear life at the edge of the bed while Jumin is pushing as close to you as humanly possible. More than once you’ve been rudely awakened by falling out of bed and hitting the hard marble floor. 

Jumin, stop entering the bathroom while I’m on the toilet, or in the shower! I close the door for a reason. No it’s not like I wanna avoid you, I just wanna shit in peace

He sometimes makes plans without your input, which works for surprises, but not so much for dinner at the Galaria and he’s already downstairs waiting for you while you’re totally not ready. 

– Saeyoung –

All that Phd. Pepper has to go somewhere, and it tends to escape out of both orifices, so to speak. 

No joke, the boy is gassy. And he teases you with it, like making himself fart right when you decide to sit next to him on the couch just to hear you “EWW!!” and squirm away. You’re lucky you’re cute, 707. 

Even when his work schedule becomes more normal, he still doesn’t keep a regular schedule. He does stretches of days where he stays up until 4am, then he spends the next week sleeping 14 hours a day. It can be hard to spend time with someone who’s either dead tired when you’re awake, or super hyper when you’re about to sleep. 

He’s very particular when it comes to his cars. You can’t eat or drink in them, not even gum. You can’t put your feet anywhere except squarely in the footrests, god forbid you absentmindedly rest them against the dashboard. No picking at the leather, no scratching the carbon fiber, you can pet the soft velvet but you’re on thin ice. 

Saeyoung, can you shower more, please? You smell like old ham and your hair isn’t doing so good either. Yes, I will give you a kiss, but only if you hop in the bathtub right now. 

– Saeran –

Like his brother, his sleeping schedule is wack. He’ll spend several all-nighters and then clonk out for a long while, too tired to do anything. And not because of work, either, he just doesn’t have a good sleep schedule. 

Loves to cook, hates to clean. Leaves all the dirty dishes, pans and pots, and countertops for as long as humanly possible, which means someone else is usually the one stuck cleaning it all up. It gets better when the household arranges duties for everyone so Saeran’s in charge of meals while another cleans up afterwards, but even then it can still get dirty.

Sweats in his sleep, which is further exacerbated by some of his medication. Sleeping next to him means sticky skin and wet bedsheets. He has to wash his pajamas every other day.

You gotta hide your sweets or else Saeran’s gonna steal them. He stress-eats during his worse days, and besides that he’s just got a monster sweet tooth, so he’ll finish his entire pint of ice cream and steals yours, too. Then he finds your hidden package of gingersnap cookies and oops, there goes your snack.

He hates having his hair cut, it’s a weird sensory experience for him and he gets anxious while having to sit still for so long. He won’t go to the salon so he tries to cut it himself, which hogs up the bathroom for two hours and leaves shed hair all over the sink. Once you start helping him, he feels better about the experience.

– Jihyun –

He cannot be trusted with the laundry. He shrinks all the knitwear, keeps forgetting to clean the lint tray, and all his whites are no longer white. You gotta be in charge if you don’t want your wardrobe to end up like his. 

Jihyun, I know you grew up with money but when the toilet is clogged you don’t call the plumber, you take this plunger and try to unclog it yourself with bleach. And no, we don’t need a new refrigerator just because the light bulb burst. 

He’s surprisingly tough to sleep next to in bed. You eventually get used to it, but for a while you kept getting kicked by his long limbs, or getting punched by a flailing arm. And he drools, too, sometimes onto your hair. 

Why. Do you. Clip your nails on the bed. Ew, stop that. 

He’s prone to getting caught up in hipster food trends, like superfood phenomenons. Jihyun, you know that apricot pits are poisonous, right? I know the co-op recommended them but I gotta feel like that’s a marketing gimmick. Please don’t eat them, put those down. 

[bibliophilicwitch]

Okay this is going to be a pretty big update related to work. And it’s gonna be pretty big because I haven’t been writing my rambling posts lately because I’ve been too busy at work when I normally would’ve gotten my feelings written down. idk how many are interested in this these days, but I know I’ve had followers that found my work updates interesting.

As you may remember I worked as a supervisor at a fabric store for many years and was worked into the ground with a horrible pittance for my effort. That company folded and I worked at Target for just over a year at the front end to utilize my management skills, but I realized that I had basically learned everything I could in such retail settings and I wasn’t happy. So I left and ended up working for Shopko pharmacy... for about a year until they also folded.

So the last two years I have been working at a Kroger pharmacy. I will be blunt - I am not a fan of Kroger though the reasons why are not specific to just Kroger but are evident in most retail pharmacy chains (and corporate customer service in general).

When we started administering COVID vaccines it was... rough. It wasn’t quite as horrible as the first few months after opening the new pharmacy because now we have learned a lot and know how to do most of what we’re doing and overall our patients are not abusing us as they had early on. But we are running around 26 vaccines over the course of two hours and not processing and dispensing medications during that time so we then spend the rest of the day frantically attempting to catch up while all of our patients that had to wait until we resumed daily services flooded us at once. We were short a tech for nearly three months and she has just returned and I already noticed the difference this past week. This means that now we are not spread thin with no extra coverage but instead no longer have to pick up tons of extra hours on top of having no extra coverage to help catch up from the vaccine clinic.

A few weeks ago I stayed over five hours after my shift, two of which during closed hours, and even two techs working literally all day including after closing with the pharmacist and getting caught up on several projects wasn’t enough because by noon the next day we were already sinking. It was at that point that I determined I was done. It didn’t matter how much we tried, we couldn’t get ahead and this meant that every day it felt like we were terrible techs unable to do our jobs competently. 

I didn’t have any deadlines or programs at the library the following Monday so I decided to use my first vacation day in over a year for a three-day weekend only to be asked if I could come in Monday evening at the pharmacy because it was such a shit show. I decided not to go in because we are very limited on what we can do after 5 anyways but I felt so damn guilty about it so a few days later I started job hunting with the goal of looking for something that will use the different skillsets I have developed at the library hopefully I can find a part-time job running a local business’s social media though that isn’t very likely in the small community I live in. All I know is that I am Done with pharmacy.

Meanwhile about ten years ago I started working at the circulation desk at my local library and found I was truly passionate about libraryship as a career. I’ve wanted to work in technical services processing books full-time for years, but technology and the changes of how libraries run means this is not a likely option unless I am at a much larger library. Around five years ago I kinda fell into the program and volunteer coordinator position and while I have had to manage many challenges and work to improve myself to meet those challenges it has been a good experience. Unfortunately it is only a 20hr position and after years of telling my director I would like more hours and I could bring so much more to the position if I had those hours, she kept hesitating to explore that.

This past year my old director retired and we hired a new director. This director has experience at libraries that had dedicated positions for building and managing an online presence and reaching communities in a variety of ways, so when she heard the ideas and suggestions I made throughout the pandemic while we were offering services virtually and determining that we had a HORRIBLE online presence it became an interest to her to possibly utilize my skillset to build that online presence. She tasked me with working on social media plans only to realize I was overburdened with programming at 20 hours and unable to put time into social media so she stepped that back.

The need to build our online presence hasn’t gone away though as Youth Services posts all their virtual programs via Facebook Live and has been sharing many other posts and Adult Services has stepped up their game as well meaning posting conflicts have started to be an issue since everyone has basically just been posting whatever they want with little to no consistency or branding. So my director tasked me with herding cats even though there has been no recognition of my role as a leader leading to me not wanting to overstep.

I asked my director in my bi-monthly meeting about a desire for more hours as well as a better understanding of my role in the future of our library. My city fucked up their budget a year or two ago and with COVID our hours and positions are actually on a freeze so I cannot get more hours though my director does have the goal of getting more hours to a few positions including mine. We are joining our local system this year which may mean we do not need our technical services positions so if any of them leave those hours could be allocated elsewhere. I just have no idea when these hours could become available. But this conversation did lead to giving all of programming to Adult Services and having my job become marketing and volunteer coordinator instead of program and volunteer coordinator.

My only concern is that this change may mean my position doesn’t need more hours later down the road? And that is literally all I want: a full-time position at my current library (since I am settled into this community) so I can work one damn job and have benefits. (My teeth have been a mess for years and yesterday I ate a nut wrong and was in so much pain I left one job early and called in sick to the other.)

Over the past couple of years Youth Services has started tasking each of their staff with planning and running their own programs and our goal is to do something similar with Adult Services. The biggest issue with that is that my current programs may not really play to any of Adult Services strengths, so some of my programs may be dissolved later this year.

I suspect Garden Guru which we market and host but is planned and presented by Master Gardener Volunteers will continue as it is fantastic series with minimal work on our end. We will probably end up changing around book club a fair bit which is fine as it has always been in a state of flux as I worked to figure out how to make it work well. Paint & Sip hasn’t been run in over a year due to the pandemic but will likely continue in some form. Make & Mingle has been monthly kits which is EXTREMELY time consuming and will likely be changed a fair bit when taken over by Adult Services at least during the transition and probably afterwards as they plan for its future.

Paint & Sip’s popularity has been my biggest frustration over the years but it and Make & Mingle have also been the most gratifying for me as I have always gotten the most positive feedback during and after those programs from participants. Also my office is basically a craft storage space and I am going to miss being known for the crafts.

I need to write up a new job description. I need to write out my programming planning and organization for Adult Services as a guide as they take over. I need to continue moving the Google Drive folders from my personal Google to the library’s new Gmail so that Adult Services will have control over them. I need to make sure these programs are all planned out enough to make sure transition is relatively smooth (Adult Services staff will either shadow my programs a few times or I will shadow with them as they take over and I figure I will work with the staff picking up different programs for transition plans).

So yeah... a fuck ton has been going on the last several months both overwhelming and exciting.