#I am the fool who takes candy from strangers
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Apparently saying the equivalent of 'surprise me' to my doctor was taken seriously. I got an alert from my pharmacy saying they're filling my prescription, and I have no idea what it is. I only assume it's for treating ADHD. No message from my doc either.
Not sure how I feel about this.
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literaila · 1 year ago
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verity what would you think about writing another peter x reader in which peter becomes a photographer and has to take pictures of reader and he develops a thing for her and he thinks that reader just flirts with him for fun and he's totally okay with that because he's a fool for her but after teasing peter and messing with him for a good amount of time she asks him out ? maybe inspired by "suck it and see" by arctic monkeys? thank you !!
chemistry
tasm!peter x fem!reader
a/n: the science jokes are real with this one
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*
peter needed to get over himself. that much was clear.
honestly, he had the ability to rip out his eyes and throw them down the garbage disposal, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he might have to. just to get some sanity back.
it wasn’t really his fault he was staring at you. no, it wasn’t his fault at all.
he was getting paid to stare at you. you had hired him to do this. to take pictures of you when you looked like this—partially glowing from the light, wearing a devious smile like you might be trying to crack his lens—and not get called a pervert for it.
his movements were automatic now. he’d done this enough—admired strangers and tried to pull the best out of them—but it was never quite like this. with every click of a button, and the perfectly adjusted flash, peter felt himself getting a bit hazy.
it would be his luck to faint while taking pictures of a pretty girl.
a pretty girl who’s head was tilted at him, eyes questioning, because she’d just said something and he was too busy scolding himself to notice
get yourself together.
“hmm?” peter asked, moving a step closer to you. “sorry i missed it.”
you smile like he’s said something funny. “should i try something else?” you say, “i’m not used to posing.”
“you’re doing great. you’re a natural.”
maybe a little too great. you blink at him, eyes darting away and sigh. even then, if peter took a photo, he’s sure it would come out perfectly. he probably wouldn’t need to edit any of these, even.
but he also probably would. just to stare at you some more.
“well, you’re the expert.”
but peter frowns. “are you feeling uncomfortable?”
“just—“ you shake your head. “will you tell me a joke, or something? i feel… awkward. i have no idea what i’m doing.”
“tell you a joke?” peter repeats, slightly amused.
“or just talk to me. anything.”
“sure,” he says, easily, nodding his head a bit too much. maybe it’s because you sort of whispered it, and peter sort of felt it on every single on of his nerve endings. “i, um,” he raises his brows. “i think i just forgot every joke i’ve ever heard.”
you laugh with your head tilted back and he snaps a shot. “just tell me about you, then.”
“me?”
“yes, peter parker, the photographer… and? part time comedian? full time alcoholic? father of six?”
peter frowns. “how old do you think i am?���
“old enough to be a professional photographer.”
“i don’t know if i would call myself a professional…” he winces, smiling a bit and feeling embarrassed for himself. flushed and completely ashamed because he’s usually better at this.
he can calm a clients nerves in five minutes. he can make people laugh and get the candid shot that he knows they’re looking for. he can turn an awkward social interaction into getting drinks after a shoot.
but there’s something about you and your smile, and the easy way you talk, like the words just fall out of your mouth and into place.
“i saw your prints,” you correct, shaking your head at him, “why do you think i hired you?”
“free eye candy?”
and then you actually laugh, chest releasing, and peter watches as your eyes squint at him like you’ve finally realized who you’re talking to.
it’s second nature when he presses the button.
“oh, yeah. i just googled ‘hottest male photographer in queens’ and yours was the first that came up.”
“i knew that ad would pay off eventually.”
“really, though. i’ve only got you for another twenty minutes so you’ve gotta tell me something good.”
peter frowns and moves to your left, changing the zoom on his camera and dimming the light. “i didn’t know you were paying for a gossip session.”
“okay, so you don’t like to talk about yourself. what else?”
he catches you as you adjust your hair, the light shining on the side of your face, gleaming off of you like something out of a sci-fi film.
peter shakes his head—his head is feeling a bit off. “um… i want to get a cat.”
you smile, completely darling and enough to knock a breath out of his chest. “i’ll add caring to the list. why haven’t you?”
“well, my apartment doesn’t really allow it…” he pauses for a moment playing with some settings. the two of you are dancing in circles, like a pendulum, when you move, he moves. “and also i’m not sure that i’d remember to feed it.”
“most animals make sure you remember. when i was a kid my dog would jump on whoever was closest when it was time for dinner.”
peter almost winces, and then catches himself. “i also think i’d poison it with my energy. it’d forget how to move its tail.”
“well, i’ve been around you for almost an hour and a half now and i can safely say that i still have control over all of my limbs.”
“good to know…” peter mutters while frowning at his screen. there’s nothing wrong with his camera, or with you, just with his hands. and his heart.
“everything okay?”
he shakes his head, then nods, clearing his throat. “yeah—yeah. i’m just messing with the settings.”
“are you getting anything good? useable?”
“they’re all good,” he says—to himself and out loud like a complete idiot. and then he looks up, awkwardly laughing. “like i said, you’re a natural.”
“even if you’re lying,” you tease, undeterred by his awkwardness, “i’m sure you’ll fix it all before i see.”
“i’m not lying, but yeah.”
when you smile, he smiles back.
“okay,” you say, moving. “what else? got any friends or family? any plans after this?”
“which question am i supposed to answer?”
“all of them, peter.”
he chuckles. “it’s mostly just me and my aunt. and a couple of long lost cousins. as for friends, i’ve kept in touch with some people from college. oh, and me and the john down the street who makes me a sandwich everyday are close.”
you lift your head, revealing the skin of your neck and jaw to peter. and a fetish he didn’t know he had. “and after this?”
“i’ll probably just go home and edit these, actually.”
“it’s friday.”
he shrugs. squinting at you before the next shot. he’s not even really looking.
“nothing fun?” you ask him. “surely you’ll be sick of my face after this.”
“that’d be hard.”
he watches a sheepish smile reveal itself on your face before it’s gone. you look away. “you’re young, peter. you should be having fun.”
“what are you doing after this?” peter asks, as a challenge.
your brows lift. “this seems like a line.”
he laughs. “not like that.”
you shrug and blink when the flash goes off. “i’ll figure out something. are there any good bars nearby?”
peter pauses, dropping his camera. “are we back to the alcoholic thing.”
“no,” you laugh, “we’re way past that. i just think that your flash is giving me a bit of an adrenaline rush. i could use a calm me down.”
“you okay?”
“i’m kidding, peter. keep going, you’re almost a free man.”
so he does.
you continue to prod him with personal questions, attacking him with your smile and your unsurprisingly sharp wit. you throw his words right back to him, and peter knows, in his deepest of thoughts, that he’s going to be hearing your voice later on.
that when he’s looking back on these pictures, he’s going to see a timeline of your allure, and of his own demise.
he’s already loving and dreading it.
he finishes up by making you laugh from your nose, loud and unprecedented, and so genuinely rewarding that peter has to refrain from clapping himself on the back.
you smile at him as you slip on your jacket, still talking to him, acting too smooth to be just polite.
peter also has to refrain himself from trying to shake your head as he walks you to the door. he tries not to stare any longer, knowing what kind of night he has in store.
“when should i be seeing the pictures?” you ask him, lingering when you finally get to the door.
“sometime next week. i’ll email you a preview with a few different editing styles that you can pick from and then i’ll finish the album.”
“email?”
he scoffs, opening the door for you. “i’ll have you know that not everyone is as young and hip as you. do you know how many grandparents want photos with their family?”
“it just doesn’t seem like you, peter. i’d thought you’d train a carrier pigeon.”
he shakes his head at you, trying to hide his smile.
“but, seriously, thank you so much,” you say to him, voice full and easy, and honest. he can feel your heart and smell your perfume. “i know i’m a lot. especially when i’m nervous.”
“i’m just glad you didn’t ask me about my social security number.”
you reflectively smack yourself on the forehead. “i knew i forgot something.”
peter laughs, letting you slip past him trying to avoid your touch. he doesn’t, and if benjamin franklin was there, he might’ve discovered a whole different type of electricity.
“i’ll talk to you soon,” peter says, and your close enough that it’s almost a whisper. “just let me know if there’s any issues with the pictures, or you have any questions. you’ve got my number.”
“i do.”
his body feels physically repelled from inside the studio, but he forces himself to take a step in anyway. “have a good weekend.”
“you too.”
and then you turn to go, and peter can’t help but stare. he hopes that the tint on the shop windows is enough to keep you from noticing.
but before he can close the door—and mind that it took him an outrageously stupid amount of time—you’re turning back around.
“wait, peter,” you say, voice breathless and jagged. like peters hands as they rush to push open the door again.
it’s embarrassing how quickly he manages to do it.
“yes?”
you smile, like you know exactly what he’s thinking. peter will have that smile branded into his brain.
“do you wanna come with me to get that drink?” you ask him, softly, and wide, with a smile that bursts blood vessels.
peter really needs to get over himself.
*
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lazilybeinglassie · 9 months ago
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Broken Sword, Broken Soldier
One Shot by LazilyBeingLazzie
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The blade was planted into the ground as he knelt to the ground. He had been fighting non stop for hours now. These creatures that appeared at the doorstep of the Vanilla Kingdom was nothing he had seen before. And yet he couldn't help but feel as though his forces and allies were too far from him to even come to his aid.
Not that he would tell them to come find him yet. There was always a possibility that there were more enemies at other sections of the kingdom. If they were doing their part (and he had no doubt they were) then it was his part to fight his fight even more.
For the moment, there were no more enemies to challenge him, giving the warrior a moment to breathe. He needed his strength if he were to continue fighting.
But as he stood there, he noticed a presence behind him. Snapping back into action, Dark Cacao Cookie swung his sword around and pointed it right at the throat of a cookie he did not recognize. They were unphased by the threat that loomed over them, not even a flinch. Their pale white and yellow clothing looked graceful and holy. Garments of a priest if not mistaken. Upon their head was something that looked similar to his soul jam. Who was this?
They spoke with an echo accompanying their voice. "You are strong, young one. I had not expected you to last under such a siege alone."
Frowning at his enemy, Dark Cacao Cookie answered. "Am I to assume you are my enemy? Are you behind all this?"
"In some parts, yes. Though I do not intend to fight you."
"You should have thought about that before attacking my friends then."
The stranger hummed. "Such an interesting motive. Yet it has it's flaws."
He growled at the comment. "I will not let you get away with this!"
Swinging his sword to attack this enemy, he finds his blade interrupted from it's path by another weapon. Noticing it's dark metallic form, he follows it's trace to it's owner. A dark knight with dark violet flames in the back of it's head.
Gritting his teeth, the king knew this meant his enemy was this new warrior. With that, he pushed them back and charged at them. The knight was silent and coldly calculating his moves. Swiftly reacting to his strikes as their swords clashed and sparked.
"Why is it that you fight for such things?" The voice of the pale stranger echoed in the king's head as he continued to fight.
The distraction gave the knight an advantage to attack, striking him as it threw Dark Cacao back further away. He grumbled as he stood back up to defend himself.
"What do you gain from their safety that you cannot accomplish with protecting yourself?"
"Fighting for those I love is my strength! If I do not fight along side them, then they will crumble! And I cannot allow that!"
The knight charged at him, positioning his blade to stab him. Dark Cacao placed his sword in front of him, blocking the blow. Even with the aid of his Soul Jam, the enemy was causing his feet to slip in the dirt a little.
"Then you are a fool. For even if you were to obtain the full ability of my power, you would not be able to save them all."
The warrior yelled at his enemy as he pushed a little more. He would not listen to these atrocious lies. "THAT WILL NOT STOP ME FROM STANDING MY GROUND TO THE BITTER END, YOU VILLAINS!"
Crack!
His candy eyes widened, looking down at his sword. The knight's blade swiftly slid off the surface of the weapon, slicing into the side of his face, leaving a scar. He screamed in pain as he stumbled. Breathing heavily, he could feel his confidence faltering. He wasn't going to survive this battle. His enemy was fast and cunning. And the strength he wielded was far greater than he could ever muster.
"Believing you can making such a difference will only crumble you in the end. If you truly want to win the war, you must assure your own survival."
"Rrrrrr, NONESENSE! The Dark Cacao Kingdom does not stand with one brick alone! It takes many to build the wall that surrounds it! A soldier cannot win alone!"
"Then why are you alone?"
The knight struck from behind. The king barely dodged it as he was still trying to come up with a response. He would not falter. He cannot! He goes for a strike, only to miss as he tries to refocus on the battle ahead of him.
"Surely your warriors would know that you would need help and come to your aid. If they are as faithful as you say they are."
He goes for another strike. The knight dodges easily.
"Unless they are more concerned with the safety of the others, than of their king."
"Stop talking . . . " Blow by blow, his actions began to blur. The heat of the moment getting to him.
"Then again, can you call yourself one if they cannot do the one task they are meant to die for."
"ENOUGH!"
He suddenly felt it. A pain in his side. Falling to the ground, he could feel his armor had cracked and broken. The knight stood over him in victory. It happened so fast. Was he blacking out in rage again? He could feel his injury weakening him.
The pale cookie then floated over to him, standing next to the knight. "You are a fool. But you have much potential. I could use a strength like yours."
Dark Cacao glared at them with hatred. "I am no pawn of yours. I will destroy you before I crumble."
" . . . Very well. I gave you the chance to surrender."
A sudden moment of pain came to Dark Cacao's head. A splitting headache that he moaned over. Harsh and piercing. It was hard for him to focus. He needed to be ready to fight. He had to . . . pick up his sword . . . and fight . . . back.
There was a sinister giggling echoing in his mind. A voice he didn't recognize at first. That was, until he heard it clearly speak to him.
Dark Cacao Cookie . . . what a pathetic king you are . . .
Was this . . . the Voice of Resolution?
Do you not see . . . ? You've done nothing but failed your people . . . you will crumble . . . and all that will be left of the kingdom will be nothing but ashes . . .
"Wh-What are you . . . ?"
You were the only one standing between victory and failure . . . and you lost . . . because you were too weak . . .
No, this couldn't be the same voice. He didn't fail. No, everyone was fine! He didn't-
A sound of an explosion from afar caught his attention. It came from the other side of the kingdom. Were those from his own soldiers!? He tried to stand up, but fumbled onto his knees again.
Weak . . . pathetic . . . you spent all of your time building that stupid wall up, and yet you did nothing to building your own strength . . . that's why they abandoned you . . .
"No . . . they did no such thing . . . "
Why would they fight along side a losing battle . . . they knew how brittle you were . . . this is the result of your blindness . . .
Dark Cacao was on the ground, trying to fight the voice in his mind. The knight and pale cookies stood behind him as a third cookie appeared with them.
"I told you I could handle this myself, Shadow Milk Cookie," said the pale cookie.
"Awwww~! You're just jealous that I got to him first before you, Mystic Flour Cookie," said the new cookie, colored in blue and dressed like a clown.
"Just keep him occupied," state Mystic Flour, "I shall ensure he will remain in deep slumber."
Behind the pale cookie, a soft glowing light appeared. It shined on Dark Cacao as he knelt to the floor in pain. He was feeling weaker and weaker by the second. The pain in his mind growing worse.
They will not come for you . . . They will not look for you . . .
He didn't want to believe the words. They were nothing but lies . . . lies that . . . were making sense for a moment. Would they search for him? Are they even alive? Are they safe?
Why should that matter . . . You can barely stand yourself . . .
The voice was right . . . he wasn't going to make it. Not if he tried to find them. The enemy had him cornered and nearly broken. If he was stronger . . .
Yes, yes . . . You can be stronger . . . But they will hold you back . . .
He thought of the Dark Cacao Warriors. Caramel Arrow Cookie. Crunchy Chip Cookie. Their names were coming to him. But when he thought of them . . . he felt . . . nothing.
His very emotions were growing dimmer and dimmer. His anger was cooling down. His determination withered. Losing what he believed was his motivations, he couldn't help but find himself staring into nothingness as he searched for anything at all.
But there was nothing.
Mystic Flour reached for the shoulder of the warrior, who remained still and silent. "You do not care for the cookies anymore, do you?"
The king looked ahead of him. "No . . . "
"Do you have a reason to fight?"
" . . . No . . . "
"Then what is it you want?"
" . . . I want . . . to be stronger . . . "
He's wanted that before. But it didn't seem to have that same vigor as it did before. But it was all he knew at that point. If he were to do anything, it was to get stronger. For what? He wasn't even sure what it was at that moment. He felt nothing.
"Then let me show you the true strength of my power."
Turning to Mystic Flour, the Dark Cacao King looked at them with an empty gaze. As the three cookies were drifting away, he helplessly followed. The pain was gone. The passion was gone.
All that was left was nothing.
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dreadsuitsamus · 1 year ago
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5 Times You Meet Kensei +1 Time He Gets Your Number | Kensei Muguruma x Reader |
author's note: this structure is horribly outdated but i give no fucks!! thank you to @yeowangies for the help and support on this!
pairing: kensei muguruma x fem!reader
warnings: buncha meet cutes, alcohol mentions, lotsa flustering kensei
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Speed dating.
What in the fuck is he doing here.
Kensei pinches the bridge of his nose as he sits at a table, waiting for the event to start just so it can end that much sooner. Mashiro forced this damn thing on him, that little shit. She knows just how to annoy him and get her way: why does he keep her around??
"I guess this isn't really your thing, huh?"
Kensei's brown eyes flick up; dammit, he zoned out and made a fool of himself on the very first 'date'. His silver brow twitches involuntarily as he responds. "You got me."
Your laugh twinkles as you slide into the seat across from him, a fruity cocktail in hand. Kensei's struck immediately by your beauty, for sure, and he's suddenly feeling underdressed in his black Henley and jeans while he's up against your, emphasis on little, black dress and golden accessories. "I've done a few of these before; it's not really anybody's thing, honestly. You're not as out of place as you feel."
"Oh, yes the hell I am." An odd laugh accompanies his shaky assertion— and he hates that he's nervous!
"You should have a drink, calm your nerves a little." The black straw from your brightly colored drink settles in the center of your gorgeously painted lips, demonstrating how you can possibly bear such an event without so much as batting an eye while your gaze flicks to the name tag stuck onto his chest.
Kensei rubs the back of his neck, his muscles deliciously hugged by that too-small Henley. "Good idea. But I don't know if I should be taking advice from someone with more sugar than alcohol in her drink."
Your laugh does more to calm his nerves than a drink would, that's for sure.
You continue to chuckle to yourself as he goes to the bar, watching him order his scotch on the rocks from the rather busy bar. The red numbers tick down on the clock, and he's not likely to return before the time is up. It is speed dating after all. Fishing out a pen from your purse, you scribble a little note on the cocktail napkin before moving onto the next table.
Kensei is rather relieved when he returns to an empty table— but only briefly, since your seat is taken damn near immediately by a new stranger. He has a pull from the drink, smirking into the tumbler as he reads your note and tunes out the new 'date' introducing themselves.
Get it with a twist next time, you wimp!
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"This shouldn't have been so controversial." Kensei's arms are crossed and the vein that's famously seen amongst his infuriating friend group is throbbing so hard that they may as well pay for an entire extra seat just for it.
Shinji and Hiyori, as per fucking usual, cannot decide what movie to watch. The group is split entirely, and it's up to his tie breaking vote to get the evening moving along. They're arguing harshly, the two factions, and he has not a care in the world to the actual film. He just wants his popcorn and peanut M&M's that'll cost him a solid thirty dollars and to take a nap.
"Shut up!" He stands tall, brown eyes furious and just a tad crazy as he fishes a coin from his pocket. "Heads or tails, you jackasses!"
He flips the coin easily, not even sure who called what side as he catches it and flips it into the back of his hand. "Tails. I'm getting a snack now."
Hiyori's taunting Shinji as they purchase the tickets, and Kensei tucks his box of candy into one of his pockets (he told Mashiro his cargo shorts are useful!!) so he can better hold his popcorn bucket out of Hiyori's reach as they stand in line to have their tickets scanned. "Hey, you little rat! Knock it off!"
The giggle behind him is familiar, and his eyes widen rather comically upon sight of you and what he presumes is your gaggle of friends. He never saw you again during that disaster of a night, and it was definitely for the best— he was hammered by the end of it and had to be, literally, picked up by Hachi just to make it home.
"Nice to see you again, Ken." You tease, laughing at Hiyori's ability to snatch a handful of his popcorn during his stunned daze.
"K-Ken?" He stumbles on the word— nobody has ever called him that.
"What movie are you seeing?" You breeze on by his confusion, though the gears in his head have come to a complete standstill. Listen closely enough and you'll hear the internet dial up tone.
"Ah…" He shows his ticket to you, ignoring the snickers of his friends behind him. He'll never live this down. Kensei, their resident, stone-faced asshole, is flustered??
"Oh, we saw that last weekend! Not a bad movie; I think you'll like it." You smile and the line moves up, Kensei's group getting their tickets scanned next.
"Not sure if I trust the opinion of someone who agrees with Hiyori's tastes." Kensei grumbles, worried that the heat on his cheeks is visible to you; or worse, his friends.
"Hey!" Hiyori kicks at Kensei's shin, though it hurts her far more than Kensei himself. You scan your ticket, the teen at the stand pointing your theater in the opposite direction of Kensei's movie.
"You'll trust me enough after you see it." You wink and start to head to your movie, glancing over your shoulder to smile at Kensei once more before disappearing into the theater. Ignoring the snickers of his friends, Kensei growls and heads into their own designated theater.
I should've fucking flipped heads.
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The chill of the air is rather inconsequential to Kensei as he runs security at the door of the nightclub, his nice suit and gloves keeping him as warm as he is stylish. He's never been one to say no to extra cash, and though his days as a doorman are far behind him, he's still got it, evidently. He's stopped several fake IDs, weapons, drugs and more, all while making his much-higher hourly rate than he did back when this was his living.
Just after busting a teen with the worst fake ID he's ever seen, Kensei's line finally starts fizzling out. The club is booming, half of the city must be inside by this point, with the other half having been kicked swiftly to the curb. He checks the expensive watch on his wrist; just a few more hours and he's all done, his favor to the club owner fulfilled and his next monthly car note paid off. Huffing out a breath, the cold air lingers for a moment, and as it dissipates, he's met with his next crowd of people.
So much for a moment of peace.
The group is split between himself and the other doorman, and it's the routine pat downs and ID checks as usual. He's gotten through a third of the group before you're before him, smirking with twinkly eyes as you present your ID to him— it's only now that he actually gets your name.
"Funny how we keep meeting." You tease, tucking the ID card back into your wallet and stepping aside for his pat down, rather eager for those strong-looking hands to get a touch of you.
Kensei's brown eyes flick to meet your gaze, and his face warms just at the sight of you. You truly are a stunning woman. "Careful; I might just think you're stalking me."
"You think I like you that much, Ken? Interesting…" Your teeth graze your lower lip, just a little, as you spread your arms and legs.
"Don't call me Ken." He grumbles, appreciating the way your perfume masks the cigarettes those in line have been smoking all night.
"It's cute." You shrug and Kensei pats you down without another word, perking a pierced brow as he snags a small bottle of whiskey concealed in your waistband.
"I don't think you know what 'cute' is if you're talking about me in the same sentence. Better luck next time, princess."
"Guess you're good at your job, huh?" You murmur, gazing up and over your shoulder to better see his handsome face. He's got a pet name for you now, hm? Interesting.
"Shoulda got in the other guy's line." Kensei mutters, tossing and subsequently shattering the glass on the cold sidewalk.
"I like this line." Slowly, your fingertip drags along the length of his sharp jaw and it's then that Kensei's aware of his other hand still holding your hip— how in the hell do you have the ability to make him forget himself so easily? "But since you took my whiskey… Can I go inside now? I could use a drink."
The taller man's Adam's apple bobs and he releases you, practically pushing you into the doors of the booming club and the arms of your giggling friends. His face is pink, and at least he can try to pass it off on the cold temperatures if anyone asks.
He should've saved that damn whiskey for later.
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Kensei's sweating like a whore in church as he finishes his workout, his body glistening with sweat as he pulls off his tank top for a taste of refreshing air. Cardio was a particular killer for him today, though it made the weight training a little bit easier too. He'd been slacking off for a few weeks, and the moment he had just a little difficulty yeeting Mashiro and Lisa (simultaneously, and while dealing with Hiyori doing her best to knock him over) into that pit of foam at the trampoline place was a reminder to get back to the gym.
He's more of a primadonna than he admits.
He takes a long pull from his water bottle, pouring the remainder over his heated face and shoulders and scans the room. It's habit to him, partially as a former special forces commander and also due to the number of times he's caught others incorrectly using equipment and aided them for better workouts. The gym is the only place he's remotely social in, oddly enough.
His brown eyes narrow at the sight of a woman (that can't be who he thinks it is) on a stair stepper. There's a man beside her, one that he noticed following her around before. They could be friends, though Kensei doubts it greatly as the loser continues to stand beside you, talking about gains while you remain the only one actually working out.
The guy's talking with his hands, and Kensei's witnessed this brand of harassment enough to tell where this is going. Wasting a breath no more, he's walking over with a meaner face than usual. It is you, and that makes him just a little more angry at this harassment than he'd normally be. You turn your head away from the man that's been annoying you, eyes lighting up at your savior. "Ken!"
Kensei places himself between you and the strange man, his impressive size and build enough to make the other guy nervous. "You like harassing women at the gym?" He crosses those deliciously thick arms, and you're frankly more concerned with viewing his toned back than dealing with the situation at hand.
"I told you I had a boyfriend." You tease, peeking over Kensei's shoulder at the now very intimidated mark.
Kensei frowns just a tad deeper after that— so many things are wrong with that statement. Namely, you thinking you had to have a boyfriend, real or not, for this guy to leave you alone. Unbeknownst to him, the back of his neck flushes a light, rosy color that makes you snicker.
"If I ever see you harassing a woman again, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. Understood?"
Kensei doesn't waste time hearing any lame excuses or apologies before turning to face you, who smirks proudly in his wake. "I'm here most days a week around this time. If anyone bothers you again, just come find me and I'll take care of it. And don't call me Ken."
"You're more bothered by me calling you Ken than my boyfriend?" You raise a brow, an entertained smirk on your face.
"Like I'd date someone who wears a pink bodysuit to the gym." Kensei grumbles lamely, blushing from the tips of his ears to the center of his chest.
"That's a lot of talk coming from someone that's blushing pinker than a Barbie dream house." You laugh, poking one of his pectorals.
He's red now as he looks away from you, his jaw tight as you tease him. "Stop bothering me and finish your workout." He retreats before you can manage to get under his skin again, though his plan doesn't pan out like he hoped as your voice follows him.
"Nice tattoo, by the way!"
"Get your mind outta the gutter!" He hollers back, practically running to hide in the locker room, all while you grin and wonder if that was the hint of a Long Island accent slipping through.
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"Come on, let's go!" Kensei claps his hands harshly, ushering his friends (and those they brought along that he merely tolerates) towards the stadium. The baseball game is due to start shortly and goddammit he's not gonna miss a thing because of these unorganized fucks. He's still got a hot dog to get!
"Relax, friend." Shinji shakes his head at Kensei's impatience, not that it was unexpected of the hothead.
"No! They might actually win this one!" Kensei's excitement is hard to contain, and he actually smiles at the idea of his favorite team not being losers!
"Oh yeah? Confident enough to put your money on it?"
Kensei snorts, leading the charge into the stadium amongst the throngs of people. "Not a chance."
Half of the group is sent to their seats while the other takes on the responsibility of securing food and drink, Kensei at the ready with the entire order memorized. The lines are dense, the entire area packed and noisy. Under normal circumstances he'd be overstimulated quickly and heavily irritated, but even those ticks of his can be overlooked for a ballgame.
He's next in line and fires off the order with precision, handing off the drinks to Shinji and Ichigo to run to deliver them to the rest of the group, Kensei more than capable of carrying all the food himself. His thick arms full, he steps away and makes for the stands just as the person in the line beside him exits at the same time.
"Woah there!" You steady yourself against Kensei's strong build, gripping his sleeveless jersey tightly to keep yourself standing as the hot dogs and nachos in his arms crash onto the floor.
"Jesus!" He grumbles, grasping your hip with a strong hand now that the food is gone.
"Oh, Kensei, I'm sorry." You glance at the floor before looking back up at the not-so-strange stranger.
""s just food, no worries." He mutters. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." You wave off his concern easily. "Here, let me buy you your food again."
Kensei snorts, tugging at your own jersey that's for the rival team. "I don't need a Bears fan buying me a hot dog. That's how people choke."
"Ha!" You smile despite your offended scoff. "As if a Panthers fan could do anything but! They learned from the best!"
"You take that back!" Kensei pokes your shoulder.
"You gonna make me?" You smirk in the face of the handsome man, and he smirks right back at you.
"You will by the end of the game, princess."
"Guess we'll see, Ken. That is, if you make it to your seat by the end." Winking slyly, you saunter off and Kensei's left to realize just how much longer the line is now.
"Don't… Don't call me Ken." He grumbles out, heading for the back of the line.
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Hell has frozen over: his friends all have plans on a Friday night, between dates and familial commitments and whatnot, and he's left to do whatever the hell he likes in peace. It's been years since he's had such an opportunity, and there's nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than here at his favorite dive, enjoying a basket of fish and chips with a mug of ice cold beer.
That was the plan, anyhow. And it started off that way easily enough.
But then you walked in with someone else.
Ever since he met you, you've popped up at the most random times and he's never expected not one of them, this time being the absolute furthest from expecting it he could be. Seeing you was one thing… Seeing you with another guy, in Kensei's favorite bar, was… So fucking rage-inducing that he's still contemplating throwing the guy through the window even an hour after seeing you come in.
Lookin' so pretty… For a fuckin' schmuck that took her to the shittiest dive in town.
Who the hell does the guy think he is? With the prettiest woman for miles on his arm, he's at a dive bar for a first date. The disrespect is insane, the lack of thought or care simply ludicrous. Kensei doesn't date anymore because it's just so stupid but damn if he wouldn't do better than this, by a lot.
"Awfully pouty tonight, Ken."
Kensei blinks out of his salty stupor, turning his head. "Don't call me Ken."
You laugh at his offense to the nickname and order two drinks from the bartender before looking back at him. "What's got you so worked up?"
Kensei feels like his brows will forever be stuck frowning, the vein at his temple about to burst. "Did you just order that grown man a drink?"
"Mhm. Is that an issue?"
He snorts, shaking his head at the bitter laugh he can't control. "No, if you like bums who can't show a pretty woman a good time."
Your teeth sink into your lip, tugging while enjoying how this big, tough guy seems to be jealous that you're with someone else. "Well, when you put it like that, I can't help but wanna see how you'd do it better."
And fuck, there it is. Kensei can't turn down such a golden opportunity; he's already a sucker for being challenged, add a beautiful woman into the mix, one that's mischievous and crafty like you, and he's got no choice but to jump in headfirst. "Then I'll show you. You'd do well to learn what a good date is."
Your grin is bright and you dive into your purse for a pen. "Call me anytime."
Kensei holds the napkin with your number carefully as you retreat to your horrible excuse for a date with the drinks, his heart pumping quicker than normal. Now he can access you intentionally, with ease.
A slow smirk spreads on his lips as he types the number into his phone, nearly wearing a shit-eating grin as he holds it to his ear and watches you politely step away from your sleazy date to answer the call.
"I'm ready to show you a better time."
Your laugh echoes across the room, and for once he's not embarrassed to laugh with you.
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yesyourstalker · 1 year ago
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Mahi: thanks for coming with me man. You're pretty cool
Baja: Yeah it's no problem. So do we just knock on the- oh, you're just going to walk in? Okay that's not illegal....
Mahi: Oh please it's just Neta. He's not going to care...... I just need to see that picture. It can't be a coincidence it just can't be!
Baja: hmm you know I didn't expect his place to be sooo
Mahi: Nice? Yeah me neither... Seems like ikkan did some redecorating....a lot more purple
Baja: *gasp* is that ikkan's bass from the first squid squad tour?! The bass that started it all!?!?? Holy shit it is! It even has the little scratches from when he dropped it at camp triggerfish!! Oh my Cod!!
Mahi: yeah yeah so cool where would the picture be?
Baja: look they have Neta's introduction poster!!.."Neta, the bass player. This big guy is the notable newcomer of the group. His slap bass licks bring a bounce and funkiness to the songs that we know and love... don't let his cool and calm appearance fool you. This guy is wild and ready to party anytime, any day. He stands at a whooping 5'7 His favorite color is green. His favorite meal is a sweet and spicy lobster dog with a sugar free mango lemonade and his birthday is August 7th"....Cod It almost feels nostalgic
Mahi:..... It's not down here. It's definitely not in that brat's room...
Baja:.*ugh* look at the vinyl collection some of these are signed! No way!
Mahi: Maybe it's up in the loft in his room.... I'm going to be right back.
Baja: Holy shit! How the fuck did they get crippy chips's album is not even out yet?!? What does it say?...."For my future brother-in-law, I thought you would want the first copy of our album. does this count as a wedding gift? lol :⁠-⁠P" - Noji........... No way am I holding the first copy.... Ghhghhbgffh
Mahi: hay can you stop fangirling for a quick sec and come up here!
Baja: yeah I'm coming...... his room is pretty cool..... He has his bass mounted?! Did you know that bass has been on 9 tours. 4 squid squad and 5 diss-pair!
Mahi: yeah. No wonder it looks so beat up...... He did know my grandfather. Look! That's him. I know his face anywhere, even when it's not wrinkly. That's my grandpa Behi..... That kid he's with must be Neta..... He looks so small and.....frail.... How old is he in this......
Baja: oh he must be in the E ward..
Mahi: hm?
Baja: E ward is where they take soldiers who are affected mentally and emotionally. Most spend a year there and go back serving.
Mahi: that doesn't seem right... Did you ever-
Baja: I'm not telling you my trauma Mahi we barely know each other.
Mahi: that's fair
Baja: Give it a year.... Damn you gramps was admiral? Must have been a strong man
Mahi: yeah he was tough but really kind....*sniff* I really miss him.... How does he know Neta tho? How do I even bring that up to him?
Baja: he must have been a good guy.. Maybe you can slip it in the conversation now. Casually..... Is that a crabby!!?? He has his awards in a case!! Look he has squid squad's platinum records!!
Cirrina: those are only copies. The real ones are at ikkan's
Baja: aaahhhh!
Mahi: great
_______________________________________________
Candi: Mahi you can't just walk into Neta's place like this! It's wrong and you Left the door unlocked! What if something happened! What if someone walked in? what if his pet got out?
Mahi: nibbles is at ikkan's
Candi: you know what I mean! This isn't ok what if cirrina was here by himself. Two strangers just walked into her home when her dads aren't here. That's scary for a young girl.
Mahi: I don't know the little shit seems fine to me.
Cirrina: hi Baja heheheheh how are you doing today?
Baja: I'm good.......Your tentacles were fully orange last time I saw you. That's a unique color you picked. I like it
Cirrina:.... Heheheh he noticed! Hehehehe thank you!!
Mahi: see she's fine. Why are you here?
Candi: if you must know Neta asked me to take her shopping for her mom's wedding. They're leaving next month.
Mahi: I forgot about that
Cirrina: you want to see the tux I picked out?
Mahi: no
Cirrina: well it's a good thing I wasn't talking to you! Seeing how you dress, you wouldn't know taste even if it punched you in the face! I was clearly talking to Baja.
Mahi: mmmmm.... You're so lucky he's my boss
Candi: hehehehe I love her
Baja: I like the tux. Never thought gray and navy blue combination. That explains the silver tentacles and blue figures. Looks great!
Cirrina: hehehehehe thank you! You're too kind!
Mahi: oh barf
Candi: awww she has a crush.
Cirrina: you like music right Baja? I have my cello I can play it for you. I'm second chair in my orchestra and planning on attending a school for the arts. I'm actually playing at my mom's wedding. It's going to be an original song ikkan's helping me write it I-
Mahi: we don't care! we only came here to check something out. We're done now so we're bouncing. See ya Candi.
Candi: bye Mahi. Bye Baja
Baja: bye guys... This place is really Nice. It wasn't my intent to break in without his knowledge. I was just dragged into this
Mahi: let's go!
Baja: ok!.... Bye cirrina
Cirrina: bye!... Hehehe.... I think he likes me!
Candi: ah ha...*sigh* yeah .....hehehe... Sure.
@fish-at-fish-fish-resort saw Mahi drag Baja by his finn out of an apartment complex
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seitmai · 21 days ago
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Your eyes drag up Jake’s form, not entirely shy about checking him out in return, his heart picking up at the look there. Arms crossed, you lazily rest your upper body on the door jam with a charming smile. There’s a tease in your voice as you say, “Cute. Though aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?” Quickly, he nudges his seven-year-old niece, Mia, out from where she’s shuffled behind his legs, shielding herself from view.
Haha good safe Jake 😅
Immediately, Abby is charging ahead, taking hold of Mia's hand and pelting her with questions as she leads her to the living room, a new friend acquired. She’s clearly unburdened by feelings of anxiety around new people. Murmurings of, Who's your favorite character? hit his ears.
Honestly I miss being a kid making friends like that, way easier than as a grown up 🥲
"How are you not cold?" You don't wait for his response. Continuing, voice dropping into something smoother, right back to teasing, “Bringing the kid as a front to flirt with me is kind of low, 8B.”
🤭🤭🤭
Your brother gives him a brief nod of acknowledgment, almost entirely uncaring about his presence beyond confirming some random child didn't just stroll into your apartment.
Just making sure haha
"She insisted on cartoon accuracy. Don't let the doe eyes fool you; she's a little tyrant." "I think you just wanted all the hot moms in the building to know that you have abs."
I think the costume was mutual beneficial between niece and uncle 😅
“So what’s your poison?” You regard him, “Or are you one of those miserable people who don't eat candy on holidays?” “I... am not one of those miserable people.”
Thank god!
He’s not really good at this—the flirting and winking and fucking he can do, no problem—but the seeing someone every day, the conversations, the connecting… he’s less good at. He’s been alone for so long that it's like an atrophied muscle, weak with disuse. 
That is actually really endearing 🥹
You speak just a brush above a whisper, "Anytime. Don't be a stranger." There's a beat of a shared smile before he turns, and all Jake can think as he ambles down the hall, back to his apartment, is, I won't be.
🥰🥰🥰
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𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾𝑺' 𝑬𝑽𝑬
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summary - a witch and he-man... what an interesting pairing. (aka, jake is taking his niece trick or treating around his building and can't help knocking on your door.)
pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader
word count - 2.3k
rating - no smut, but 18+ anyways, mdni!
content warnings & tags - age gap (reader is in her early twenties, jake is thirty) / reader and jake are neighbors / no use of (y/n) / flirting / pre-relationship / fluff / lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: anyways, i'm going to post this then go to a halloween party! hopefully i'll get a little tipsy and meet my own jake. here's a link if you don't know what he-man looks like. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!
TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG
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Jake isn’t one to hesitate, certainly not in the sky and rarely on the ground. At least that's the story he's been telling himself until the sight of, 8F, your door numbers, have his knuckles pausing just before contact. Now, he’s reevaluating.
You're the one door that he's been simultaneously dreading and anticipating, the feeling swirling into an unidentifiable pit in his stomach.
It's early in the evening, and even though he definitely saw your apartment number on the signup sheet for the building's trick-or-treating, he's not entirely sure if you'll even be home. It is Halloween, and you're young, younger than him by probably a few years; there’s probably some big Halloween party that runs until dawn breaks that you're attending.
There's been plenty of nights where he's getting home from the Hard Deck to crash, having had probably one beer too many at his age, and your night is only just starting. Some skin-tight number riding up your thighs as you pass by him with a pretty smile that has his head turning. His drunken attention captured, eyes following you down the hall.
He's holding onto the hope that you're out as he knocks, hoping that you're not about to see him dressed up in this ugly little wig and red tighty-whities. Why didn't they give him a far more dressed reboot?
His hope is dashed as the door swings open, revealing your pretty face. 
You’re dressed as a witch, sort of. Really, you're just wearing a short black dress, a pointy hat, and matte red lipstick. Fairly minimal effort. But you look great and Jake is wearing a yellow wig that's basically a bowl cut, so...
Your eyes drag up Jake’s form, not entirely shy about checking him out in return, his heart picking up at the look there. Arms crossed, you lazily rest your upper body on the door jam with a charming smile. There’s a tease in your voice as you say, “Cute. Though aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?”
Quickly, he nudges his seven-year-old niece, Mia, out from where she’s shuffled behind his legs, shielding herself from view. Her winged gold She-Ra crown knocks slightly askew as she moves. 
She's shy in a way that Jake and his siblings were not at her age. His parents had to deal with three entirely fearless, entirely stupid children—an entirely different beast. His sister is hoping that trick-or-treating through his apartment building, a controlled foray into interacting with strangers will instill a little confidence in her. Her grip on his hand tightens as your gaze bounces down to her.
You straighten up, coyness softening into a genuinely kind, kid-friendly look. You glance back at him, a sympathetic pinch to your brow.
“My niece, Mia,” he unnecessarily clarifies. He’s sure his whole life screams bachelor to any woman looking. 
He thinks you have been. Flirty exchanges at the mailboxes, and dragging looks in the elevators, arms brushing as you lean on the back wall, standing closer than necessary as you exchange lingering small talk.
The lights in your apartment are low. Your living room is far enough down the hall that it’s blocked from view, but the wall behind you is illuminated by your TV screen, an unchanging blue glow. 
A young girl, probably only a year or two older than Mia, skids into the hallway, sliding in on her socks. She’s dressed as a black cat, with a little tail and ears, and feline-like face paint.
You turn to look at her. Her painted-on whiskers move as she asks you, “Can we play the movie?”
Your brow scrunches. Biting your lip, you hold up a finger to her, "One sec." You turn back to him. "My brother and sister and their kids are over. We're gonna watch Coraline. Would you and Mia wanna watch with us?"
He looks down at his niece. She seems apprehensive at the idea, her lips pressed tightly together as she looks up at you. He lightly tugs her hand, pulling her attention. Her eyes come back to him.
He gently inquires, "Do you wanna go watch a movie?"
She hesitates, and he's about to take that as a no when you drop into a crouch so you’re eye to eye with Mia. You lean in conspiratorially, briefly looking over your shoulder. "You know, Abby," you nod to the girl who's now tugging on her cat tail, “She's also a big She-ra fan."
Your niece waves at Mia at the mention of her name, brightening up a little at the idea of a shared interest. She unnecessarily raises her voice, like ten feet is a chasm she won't be able to be heard from, "I really like your costume."
Mia's grip tightens on his hand, but she looks up to ask him, "Can we?"
He's a little surprised by that, but then you smile up at him from your crouch, and he understands completely; you're persuasive, with your kind eyes and carefully chosen words. He thinks a siren would've been a more accurate costume.
He nods, "Sure, yeah."
You slap your thighs, hopping to your feet. Swinging the door all the way open, you gesture in, "Alright, great. Come on in."
Immediately, Abby is charging ahead, taking hold of Mia's hand and pelting her with questions as she leads her to the living room, a new friend acquired. She’s clearly unburdened by feelings of anxiety around new people. Murmurings of, Who's your favorite character? hit his ears.
You both just stand in the doorway for a moment as you watch them walk away. But then your eyes drop to his scantily clad state, humor quicking your lips. "How are you not cold?" You don't wait for his response. Continuing, voice dropping into something smoother, right back to teasing, “Bringing the kid as a front to flirt with me is kind of low, 8B.”
And while he didn't intend for his niece to be an in with you, this is sort of the moment he’s been waiting for since you moved in all those months ago—up close and personal. The thrill of it seizes control of his brain, rendering him unable to volley a flirtation right back. He’s blue-screened—a little icon circles as you shut the door behind him.
A man's voice calls from the living room, cutting off the reply his brain was working at full capacity to form, “Who’s kid is this?”
You tug at his wrist, and he pliantly follows you to the archway of the living room, keeping just a step behind you. You thumb at him over your shoulder, "This is Jake and his niece, Mia."
Your brother gives him a brief nod of acknowledgment, almost entirely uncaring about his presence beyond confirming some random child didn't just stroll into your apartment. Rolling his beer bottle in his hand, he turns back to look at what seems like fantasy football scores on his phone.
He feels another pair of eyes drag over him; your sister sitting in an armchair has, an apparently genetic, shit-eating grin on her face. She covers the side of her mouth with her hand, but the angle she's sitting at gives him a full view of her mouthed words—the persistent smile on her face makes it clear she’s aware—as she questions you, “Hot neighbor?”
Something shoots from the base of his spine to his heels at the knowledge that you've, at the very least, mentioned him to your sister—enough that he's been dubbed 'hot neighbor'. You laugh wryly, shooting your sister a scathing look as your hand curls around his bicep, warmth soaking into his skin from your palm as you drag him off to your kitchen.
He can't help the smile that works its way onto his face.
Your kitchen is much the same as his, except for the rust-colored pot rack hanging over the island in the middle. There is a pumpkin-carving station set up there, newspaper set down with guts strewn around. A few pumpkins sit on your countertop, out of the way, with already carved faces.
You quickly pivot from your embarrassment to his. "So, the get-up is..."
"She insisted on cartoon accuracy. Don't let the doe eyes fool you; she's a little tyrant."
"I think you just wanted all the hot moms in the building to know that you have abs." You pivot before he can reply—you seem to have a tendency to do that—inquiring, "Do you want me to get you a robe or something?"
"Yes, please."
You disappear down your hallway. Jake, all the while, wonders how he can salvage his dignity. He slips the Little Lord Fauntleroy-esque wig off his head, leaving it abandoned on the counter. Running a hand through his hair, he finds a bit of sweat has collected on his scalp—probably equal parts from the suffocating wig and interacting with you. 
His eyes spot his reflection in the chrome of your fridge. He scrutinizes his appearance there, preening as he tries to put his hair back into some flattering form. It's not nearly as bad as helmet hair, but only by a slight margin.
You come sauntering back in just as Jake figures his hair is as good as it’s gonna get, robe and bucket of candy in hand. He gratefully takes the plush bathrobe from you, his thumb running over an embroidered insignia with a lion and a crown, Ritz-Carlton underneath. You're a robe thief. He probably shouldn't find petty theft as amusing as he does. wrapping it around himself.
“So what’s your poison?” You regard him, “Or are you one of those miserable people who don't eat candy on holidays?”
“I... am not one of those miserable people.” His fingers just barely close on the plastic of the wrapper before you flick your wrist, the candy flopping backward, just out of his grasp.
Batting your lashes at him, your voice drops, "I need to hear the magic words."
He rolls his eyes, the words coming out as a sigh though he’s enjoying the whole play of this, "Please?"
"Noo, by the power of...?"
He can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him, regardless of the fact that you're having a laugh at his expense. His chin drops to his chest, shoulders shaking with it. He breathes the laugh out with a sigh, pressing his lips together to try to keep his smile from spreading, unwilling to let you know just how be-witched he is by you. It’s a poor attempt.
He recites the line, "By the power of Grayskull."
You seem overtly pleased by this. You smack the Kit Kat bar into his awaiting palm, and the slightest brush of your fingertips against his skin sends electricity shooting up his arm.
You hand him the candy, turning back to the fridge. A laugh lighting up your eyes, you casually throw over your shoulder, "You're obedient."
An hour later, he’s elbow-deep in pumpkin guts, clearing yours for you as you blatantly watch him, chin in hand.
It's clear that neither one of you really wants to go back to the living room yet; you're both just playing for time, trying to find a reason to stay in this bubble.
"If there weren't children present, what would you be watching in celebration of the holiday?"
"Probably 'The Thing'." Your eyes connect over the table, "What about you?"
“Shaun of the Dead, or maybe, Scream?”
You hum approvingly, and, again, he feels a little tickle of self-satisfaction work its way through him. 
He’s not really good at this—the flirting and winking and fucking he can do, no problem—but the seeing someone every day, the conversations, the connecting… he’s less good at. He’s been alone for so long that it's like an atrophied muscle, weak with disuse. 
But here, in your kitchen, as you pick a pumpkin seed off his shoulder, it feels less insurmountable. 
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It's only hours later that he scoops up a half-conscious Mia, the night clearly over with the credit roll of Paranorman. Your brother scoops up and corralls his own out the door.
Your sister approaches him, handing him a slip of paper with her number on it. She smiles. "Not hitting on you. Give that to her mom, maybe the girls can have a playdate sometime."
She leaves him with a knowing wink as she shuts the front door.
Before this night, he was attracted to you, coy and pretty. But now, it might be a little something more. Because, as he's come to find out, you're also kind and generous and funny. You didn't need to open your home to him, could've just put some candy in her bucket and sent them to the next door. But instead, you went out of your way to broker a friendship between two kids.
The hall is quiet as you open the door for him. Warm light from the sconce-lined hallway settles gently over your features. He lingers at the entrance. He doesn’t want the evening to be over yet, but it’s close to his niece's bedtime, and he’s probably already overstayed his welcome. However, the silence that falls over both of you is calm. Not like you’re just counting down the seconds till he leaves.
He shifts his hold on his softly snoring niece, dropping a kiss to your cheek. Quietly, he can hear your breath catch. Pulling back, there's scant room between your bodies despite the blockade of his niece's slumbering form. Your lashes flutter open.
"Thank you for tonight."
Silently, with two fingers hooked on the handle, you return to him the plastic pumpkin bucket. It's significantly fuller than when they showed up to your door; you must've topped it up from your own stash before handing it back. 
You speak just a brush above a whisper, "Anytime. Don't be a stranger."
There's a beat of a shared smile before he turns, and all Jake can think as he ambles down the hall, back to his apartment, is, I won't be.
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a/n: thank you for reading and happy halloween!
115 notes · View notes
bbangsoonie · 4 years ago
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good for nothing
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member: juyeon genre: angst (royal au) word count: 4,635 synopsis: despite being the first born and the kingdom’s princess, you lived your whole life in the shadow of the crown prince born to a concubine. in your plot for revenge, a fool in love comes along your path. warning(s): violence
kingdom masterlist
Princess Y/n. You were the first born of the king and queen, educated beyond societal standards for girls, and incredibly beautiful. Yet, you were disregarded and looked down on since the moment you were born. Your brother, who was born to a concubine, was the crown prince and received much greater respect. The reason? You were a girl. A good-for-nothing girl as your father called you on multiple occasions.
The king was ashamed to have his first born be a daughter. He also felt threatened by your rejection of the status quo. Because of this, he grabbed every opportunity to make you submit to him.
You were exceptionally smart but no one cared to notice. Your desire to learn was ignored and you were forced to embroider butterfly patterns instead. At a young age, you realized your place. You knew your designated fate was to be a political pawn meant to be married off at a beautiful age. To protect the royal family that never considered you as one of their own, you were to marry a complete stranger one day.
However, just because you realized your place didn’t mean you accepted it. You defied the rules at every chance you saw. You remained a headache for the king, but a small enough headache to avoid his wrath.
Unbeknownst to him, you were well versed with the dirty politics of the country. Ever since you were a little girl, you would eavesdrop into the ministers’ conversations and manipulate the eunuchs to take a peak at written grievances sent to the king. You knew about the starving peasants he ignored and the bribes he received. As you grew older, you became hungry for power. When it became apparent that the king was blocking any hope for you, you were determined to take as many people down with you. You refused to suffer alone.
The king always berated you for being greedy. Greedy for education. Greedy for acknowledgement. Greedy for a life that was more than just being a good wife. He reminded you again and again that you would never have a voice in official affairs.
Every time you left his chamber after another lecture, you made sure to humiliate the embarrassment the kingdom called the crown prince. You would outshine him one way or another. Whether it be pointing out his grammar mistakes in front of the scholars or exposing his secret palace escapes to the queen, you would dampen his mood for the day. It was the only thing that gave you a speck of joy.
There was also only one thing that gave you something to look forward to. For years, you had been conspiring against the royal family. You despised the royal family and its classist, sexist, and pretentious values. You planned on getting rid of it once and for all. The kingdom deserved a leader that would rule benevolently. Slowly but surely, you gained the loyalty of several ministers. Soon enough, you would be able to execute the meticulous coup d'état.
But until then, you had to continue to be nothing but the king’s puppet. Which included meeting your fiancé. You were introduced a week ago and wedding preparations were already in full swing.
The man you would be forced to wed, Lee Juyeon, was the first son of the Chief State Councillor. You didn’t like him the moment you saw him. He was a pretty face that grew up with his father’s full love and support. He was both elegant and masculine; he was the definition of perfect and you hated it. A person had to have flaws to be likeable.
For some crazy reason you couldn’t wrap your mind around, Juyeon was infatuated with you. He visited the palace every day just to have you decline his request for a meeting. He was persistent.
Unfortunately for you, he was also crafty. He figured out that announcing his arrival to the king was an effective way to see your face. The king was delighted to see the Chief State Councillor’s son head over heels for his daughter and thus, to your annoyance, daily meetings were arranged for you two.
“Tell me, Lord Lee, what about me is worthy of your obsession?” you asked.
You were sitting at one of the gardens within the palace walls. He had insisted on the location because of its romantic beauty.
“Then tell me, Your Highness, what about me is not to your liking?” he grinned.
“Do you wish to hear the answer of the princess or the answer of Y/n?” you raised a brow, making him laugh.
“You amuse me, Princess Y/n,” he turned his head to look at the pond.
You sighed, wondering how long you had until you could return to your residence. The man next to you was oblivious to your feelings as he rambled on about the dates he wanted to take you on. He caught your attention when he mentioned sneaking you out of the palace for half a day.
“You would really risk taking me outside of the palace?” you perked up.
He was excited to see you finally engaged in the conversation and nodded profusely. He promised to set up an elaborate plan for a smooth date. Grudgingly, you accepted his offer. Your wish to see the village overwhelmed your wish to avoid your soon-to-be consort.
The next day, a court lady secretly found you to notify you of his plans. To evade the eyes of palace maids, you were to escape through a path not commonly used. She helped you scale the wall and you froze when you saw Juyeon on the other side. You sat on top of the wall and he extended his hand for support. With a tight smile, you held his hand and jumped down.
He pulled the veil over your face to keep your identity hidden, blushing when his hand slightly brushed your cheek. He hopped onto the horse and gestured for you to do the same. Hesitantly, you held his hand again to climb on.
Using the excuse of maintaining balance, he urged you to hold on tightly. You weren’t left with an option when he sped up, prompting you to instinctively hug his waist. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling like a fool.
At last, you finally arrived at the village. Fascinated at the change in environment, you looked like a child surrounded by toys. Chuckling, Juyeon admired the view in front of him. In his eyes, you were prettier than any flower and sweeter than any candy. Feeling his gaze on you, you cleared your throat and began walking.
There was so much to look at. He caught you staring at the rows of yeot and purchased the confectionery without you asking. You immediately popped one into your mouth and he laughed when your cheeks expanded to resemble a squirrel.
“Are you teasing me?” you frowned.
“No, I am appreciating your adorable and lovely appearance,” he answered as he handed you the bag holding the rest of the yeot. His words didn’t fluster you. You simply rolled your eyes and resumed walking.
His long legs were quick to catch up with you. Enjoying your presence, he watched as you fawned over little trinkets. It was a new side of you that he had never seen.
Stopping at an accessory shop, you scanned the norigaes displayed on the table. One of them caught your eye and you held it up for a closer look. It was a beautiful pale pink color that perfectly matched your current hanbok.
“It seems a norigae is better at capturing your heart than I am,” Juyeon pouted.
“Perhaps it is prettier than you,” you shrugged.
“Is this an implication that I am pretty? To a certain extent?” he beamed.
“How do my words become that?” you exclaimed.
With another laugh, he took the accessory from your grasp and went to pay for it. You blinked at the sudden sight of his back, noticing for the first time how broad his shoulders were. When he came back to your side, he held the norigae in front of you but pulled it back when you reached out for it. He pointed at the bag of yeot and opened his mouth. Baffled, you turned around to walk away.
He caught your wrist and spun you back around. He bent down and your face stopped an inch away from his. His usual shy self was gone and he had a confident smirk on his lips.
“Does your heart not sway even at a close distance like this?” he asked. This time, he caught you off guard. When you finally came back to your senses, you hurriedly shoved a piece of yeot into his mouth and stormed off.
“Y/n, you make me laugh too hard and too much!” you heard his voice call out, making you blush crimson with embarrassment.
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With your upcoming wedding looming over your head, it became increasingly difficult to communicate with the ministers. There were too many eyes to be wary of. Juyeon, of course, was one of them.
As you spent more time with him, you realized how sentimental he was. He brought you small, meaningful gifts and loved to tell you about the meanings behind each flower.
“Did you know that the plum blossom is one of the indications of spring's arrival?” he asked one day. “They can bloom as early as late March.”
“I think it is quite obvious that it is spring,” you commented, pointing at the variety of flowers surrounding you.
“My personal favorite flower is the rose of sharon,” he continued. “It is nicknamed the “immortal flower” and means “eternal blossom that never fades” because of its resilience. It regrows despite harsh conditions and even after it is damaged. Amazing, isn’t it?”
You hummed, looking for the flower he was talking about.
“I used to hope that our kingdom would take after the flower. We have survived through many tragedies and I hope that we will survive through anything else that tries to beat us down,” his words pricked you for some reason. Would your rebellion be seen as a tragedy or as a heroic deed?
“Now, I like to think that our love will be like the rose of sharon. My love for you will never fade and I will continue to pine after you despite your harsh words. Even if you hurt me, my feelings will transcend time,” he smiled. “The flower does not bloom until July. My wish is to go see them with you. Would you bless me with your presence when the time comes?”
You observed his lovestruck expression and couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Again, you were at a loss trying to understand why he was so besotted with you. His childlike innocence was almost pure to a fault in a place like the palace.
“I shall consider it if you teach me how to swing a sword,” you proposed.
He couldn’t hide both his shock and happiness. He was confused as to why you wanted to ever hold a weapon but glad that you were slowly opening up to him. Without a second thought, he agreed to your proposition.
Juyeon was full of bliss at the thought of spending more time with you. Teaching you swordsmanship would allow him to be intimate with you and he was thrilled. At your first secret lesson, his heart raced at your proximity as he guided your hands on how to properly wield the blade.
A week passed by and you quickly improved each day. Eventually, you became skilled enough to land a fake jab. Seeing your proud smile, he grinned as well.
“I guess I should be on edge now. If I annoy my princess one too many times, my life will literally be at your hands,” he joked.
“Do you regret training me?” you smirked.
“Ah, was this all a part of your plan?” he pretended to gasp. “Either to kill me off or to threaten me to obedience?”
Not finding his joke funny, you blankly stared at him. Noticing the sudden chill in the atmosphere, he awkwardly laughed.
“Do not worry, Your Highness. I will always do as you say. You do not need a sword to make me behave.” he smiled.
You hated to admit it but he had grown on you. His constant attempts to tear down your wall had finally made a crack. You had to stop before he became your weakness.
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For the first time in a while, you were summoned to the king’s chamber. Expecting another reprimand, you dreaded the walk there. To your surprise, however, you were greeted with a smile he hadn’t given you in years. It kind of freaked you out.
“You called for me, Your Majesty?” you bowed.
“I hear you have been getting along wonderfully with the Chief State Councillor’s son. Finally, you are fulfilling your duty as this kingdom’s princess,” he commended.
What a back-handed compliment. You wanted to roll your eyes at his passive aggressiveness. Holding back your urges, you politely smiled instead.
“I just wanted to let you know that I will be in a hurry to complete your wedding. I need the Chief State Councillor’s support to find a suitable wife for the crown prince,” he announced.
“Is my marriage merely a way for the crown prince to find a wife with a powerful family?” you shot back.
Your question turned the mood scarily sour. You felt his anger rise as he chastised you for your impudence and disrespect.
“The crown prince is the future leader of our kingdom. He is more than deserving of the immense care, thought, and effort that goes into picking his consort. His consort will be this kingdom’s queen and will be the one to bear the next king. You are nothing but a useless girl who will belong to a different family.”
“I am still a member of the royal family, am I not?”
“You are just a good-for-nothing girl that will leave this palace soon,” he spat. “Now leave. You are dismissed.”
On your way out, you ran into the crown prince who looked at you in a way you found to be offensive. You paused your steps and turned around.
“I wish you fertility, Crown Prince. After all, the kingdom relies on your performance to produce an heir to the throne,” you said, lacing your words with venom. “I would imagine you would hate having to adopt a nephew.”
You could tell you had gotten under his skin yet again and left satisfied. You loathed and condemned your family with a burning passion. You couldn’t wait for the day it would all come to a bitter end.
While you were brooding, you didn’t notice Juyeon sneaking up on you. When you finally saw him, you nearly jumped. Your hand reached out to cover your heart, trying to calm it down. Sheepishly, he apologized for startling you.
Trying to keep you from walking away from him, he held onto the hem of your sleeve. Your heart softened at the gentle manner he treated you with. Ignoring your instincts, you let him cling onto you. Instead of making you turn around to face him, he walked in front of you.
“Will you accompany me to the garden today as well?” he asked earnestly.
Knowing that the court ladies were watching, you reluctantly accepted his invitation once again. This time, he surprised you with a bag filled with yeot. He looked so proud of himself for remembering your love for the sweet treat that it made you laugh. As a reward, he grabbed a piece for himself. Unaware of the smudge it left on the corner of his lips, he was conscious of your gaze and tried to look attractive.
“Worry not, Your Highness. You will get to look at this face every day and every night once we marry,” he assured.
Despite his wise exterior, he had a goofy side to him. He was pure and innocent—everything you weren’t. You could see why the king favored him so much.
“I do not understand why you are so eager to become my consort,” you suddenly blurted. “You know that it is just a flashy title that does not award you with much privileges. It is an empty position; you cannot hold office without a special order from the king. Do you simply see yourself as a stepping stone for your father to bring honor to your family?”
“Is my love for you an acceptable response?” he asked after some thought.
“Is it truly worth your dangerous status as the princess’s husband and king’s son-in-law? The royal family has many enemies,” you warned.
“I will be the one to protect you from such enemies,” he declared.
Was he naive or has his affection for you blinded him?
“Princess Y/n,” he said solemnly as he held your hand. “I promise to love and protect you for as long as my heart beats. No, even after it ceases to beat, I will still yearn for you. I will not demand or expect you to do the same. Even if your feelings for me are not as strong as my feelings for you, I will not blame you. But will you please give me the chance to try to win you over?”
His confession triggered an alarm in your head. He was never supposed to fall for you this hard and you were never supposed to allow him to. He had no idea how cunning and conniving you really were. Only the people in the palace knew how cold-hearted you could be. You had to be in order to survive.
You refused to give him a reply and pulled your hand away. His face fell but he forced himself to smile again. In an attempt to break the tension, he made a random comment on the weather.
After you two parted, you decided to speed things up to initiate the revolt. Once you joined hands in marriage, Juyeon would inevitably end up a target as well. If you wanted to spare him, you needed to overthrow the corrupted royal family before he became a part of it.
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It was officially the day before the insurrection. To be honest, you weren’t really nervous. This was what you had been anticipating your entire life.
Yet why did you have a moment of weakness when you saw Juyeon that afternoon? He approached you with that boyish smile that did wonders to your normally rational mind. Feeling what you believed was pity, you wanted to leave him with a pleasant memory.
So you ended up convincing him to sneak you out of the palace again. This time, you were a lot more enthusiastic. You wanted to try all the pastries and insisted that he taste them too.
“You seemed to have a lot on your mind these days,” he carefully pointed out. “Has the problem that has been bothering you been resolved now?”
“It will soon,” you eluded.
You stared at the man in front of you, observing his features. He was, without a doubt, good looking. You could see why all the court ladies, palace maids, and girls of the village were so smitten with him. But you still didn’t get why he chose you to fawn over. Maybe it was because of the lack of affection you grew up with but something about having someone care for you was unsettling.
You had suitors court you before but none of them were as devoted as Juyeon. He always came off as genuine. Perhaps his sincerity was what made you lower your guard.
“I promise to lavish you with such outings if that is what makes you happy,” he proclaimed, almost making you laugh.
“Why do you make so many vows?” you inquired.
“I am a man who keeps his word and you are the only one I give it to,” he grinned. You wondered how happy he had to be to smile so often. You rarely had reasons to be smiling.
He glanced down at the table and examined the rows of binyeos. Holding one up, he held the hair pin against your hair.
“May I gift you this binyeo?” he asked.
You pursed your lips, feeling just a tad bit of guilt. You were used to being showered with extravagance but with Juyeon, it was different. There was an emotional value attached to each present.
“Only if you promise me one other thing,” you negotiated.
“Of course. I will do anything you ask of me,” he responded.
“Promise me that you will not visit the palace tomorrow,” you said sternly. He looked at you with curiosity.
“Tomorrow is… a day of mourning for me. I do not wish to see you until the day after,” you lied.
“This is the first time you have expressed your desire to see me,” he lit up at your last sentence. “I will prepare a magnificent date for when I see you over-morrow.”
You almost felt sorry for his naiveté. And you almost—just almost—felt sorry for deceiving him.
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The fateful day arrived at last. You stood, taking one last glimpse at your reflection. Subconsciously, your hand reached out to touch the binyeo in your hair.
The roars of the royal guards and the clanks of combat rumbled throughout the palace. With a determined look, you left your chamber. The sword in your clenched fist dragged across the ground as you made your way to the throne hall.
When you finally busted through the door, the king sat as if he had been waiting for you.
“I should have known that this was your doing,” he scowled. “Was your luxurious life as a princess not enough for you? Could you not fight the temptation of avarice?”
“Nothing about my life was ever comfortable,” you corrected. “I always had to play along to match your mood in order to avoid being married off to an old man just out of your spite. You tried to drill your toxic mentality in me because my individuality terrified you. You made it a point to constantly tear me down. So I made it a point to see your demise.”
“You have always been this sly ever since you were a little girl. I knew I would regret your birth the moment I saw your eyes. And I was right. You are nothing but a vile bitch.”
“For the longest time, I thought I was deserving of your hatred. But I came to the realization that you simply belittled me just for being a girl. Do not forget, Your Majesty, that the womb inside me is the same as the one that bore you the crown prince.”
Mockingly, you approached the throne. It was incredible how that one seat gave its owner immense power.
“Speaking of which, why is it that only men carry on the family name?” you questioned. “Do you not realize that women are the ones who carry on the precious bloodline you always speak of? It is the body of women that conceive and grow another human inside them. It is the body of women that suffer through labor to deliver you children and nurture them to good health. The only thing you do is spread your seeds like a fruit. And then blame women for your own infertility.”
“All throughout history, it has been men who carried on the royal bloodline. What makes you think that you are worthy of special treatment?”
“Bloodline, bloodline, bloodline,” you rolled your eyes in irritation. “Do not fool yourself. It is not blood you care about but name. Men may carry on the nameline but we are the ones who give you the royal blood pumping in your veins.”
You sloppily lifted the sword to the king’s neck, smirking.
“I knew you would be the one to bring my downfall,” he glared.
“Well, how does it feel to have all your fears come true, my king?” you taunted. “You were always afraid that I would either surpass you or ruin you. Now, I will be the one to end this damned bloodline. This good-for-nothing girl will take back the royal blood that was given to you by a woman.”
With that, you slashed his neck. Blood splattered across the wall and on your face. You grimaced, wiping away the warm liquid. You were surprisingly calm in front of such a gruesome sight. That was, until Juyeon came bursting through the door.
After he had parted from you the day before, he could not get you out of his mind. Something about your eyes had been melancholic. Your words sounded like a foreshadow and it left him feeling disturbed. So he broke his promise and went to the palace to see you again. He was alarmed to see the chaos ensuing and immediately searched for you. However, he never expected the situation he stumbled into.
“P-Princess Y/n,” he stuttered, making you aim the weapon at yourself. You never intended or wanted him to witness this.
“Do not come any closer,” you warned.
“Your Highness, please. Put the sword down,” he begged.
“I cannot,” you gulped. “This is how it must end.”
“We-we can run away. Together. We can leave everything behind and I will keep you safe,” he said as he tried his best to stay calm.
You wanted to both laugh and cry. Your life was a suicidal mission. You knew from the beginning that you would not be able to survive. If you failed, you would be executed for treason. If you succeeded, you would be executed to officially end the royal bloodline.
You had to admit, you slightly wavered at one point. Juyeon’s promise to make you happy was enticing. To someone who never strayed close to emotions before, he was like a miracle. He made you feel all sorts of things that you were glad to have experienced.
“I apologize, Lord Lee,” you sadly smiled before you stabbed the blade into your stomach.
“No!” he screamed as he ran to your side.
You slowly fell to the ground with Juyeon’s arms wrapped around your body. His hands shook above the wound as he cried, knowing that he couldn’t take it out without ensuring your death. He never thought that what he taught you would be used against yourself. If he had known that this was what you planned on using your skills for, he never would have taken your offer.
“I am afraid I will not be able to go see the rose of sharons with you,” you said as a tear escaped your eyes.
Your vision began to cloud and you felt the life in you leave with every breath you took. You didn’t even realize that your hand was gripping his clothes, crinkling it. Another tear rolled down your cheek as your head fell back, your neck unable to support it any longer.
He desperately clung onto you, holding your head in his bloodied hands.
“I will bring the flowers to you,” he affirmed.
“Another promise,” you chuckled.
“This one I will be sure to keep,” he stated as his own tears fell to your face.
Next to the weapon embedded in you was the norigae he bought you the first time you escaped the palace together. He looked up to see that you were wearing the binyeo he bought you as well. He sobbed, holding onto you tighter.
“I hope to be reborn as a rose of sharon. That way, I can come see you every spring,” you whispered before you closed your eyes for the last time.
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tag list: @dearseungie​ @cuppasunu​ @reverienostalgia​ @elcie-chxn​ @parfaitz​​ @lovelyutas​ @mochinyu​ @leejaeyeons​
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sgtjbbhasmyheart · 4 years ago
Text
Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two
Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 2921
Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff
A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics
DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission
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You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.
Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?
How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.
The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.
He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.
You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.
Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?
Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.
You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.
You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home
James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?
You yes dad yeesh
James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.
You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care
James I know from experience.
You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?
James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.
You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie
James Did you ever send your sister a text?
You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her
James Only good things, I hope.
You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.
James My ma raised me right.
You id say
James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._
You i dont want to agree but ur probably right
You whats ur name btw?
James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?
You duh ur fun to talk to
James Oh.
You or not its cool if u dont want to
James It’s James.
You nice to meet u james im (y/n)
James Nice to meet you as well.
You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 
You goodnite james
James Goodnight, (Y/N).
Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.
You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.
What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.
A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.
With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.
You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.
You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.
You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐
You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.
You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.
You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.
Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.
Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.
James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.
You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.
You Cease our correspondence too much?
James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.
You Stop!
James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.
A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.
You You’re incorrigible.
James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.
You Ha!
You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.
James We all have our flaws.
Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.
You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?
You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.
James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.
You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.
You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?
James_ Maybe. Someday._
How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?
You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?
James 😈
You There you go again--being all mysterious.
James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.
You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?
James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?
You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.
You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.
And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.
James Oh.
The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.
You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.
You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.
You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?
James Hook. Line. Sinker.
Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.
You You’re an ass. I take everything back.
James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.
James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.
James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.
James Because of you, (Y/N).
A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.
You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.
James Doll, you have no idea.
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The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.
You Favorite color?
James Black. You?
You Blue.
You Favorite ice cream flavor?
James Chocolate. Yours?
You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.
James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.
You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.
You Favorite movie?
James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.
You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.
You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.
James Where are you going again?
You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.
You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?
James Don’t think I have.
You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.
James Sounds right up my alley.
You Cats or dogs?
James I’m gone too much, so cats.
The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.
You Socks on or off for sleeping?
James Off.
You Silver or gold?
James Silver.
You Morning, noon, or night?
James Night.
You How do you take your coffee?
James Room for sugar and creamer.
You Boxers or briefs?
James Boxer briefs.
You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.
You Touché.
As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.
The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.
Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.
Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.
You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?
The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.
“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.
You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.
James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??
“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.
With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:
You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.
Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.
“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”
“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”
You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.
James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??
You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”
Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.
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With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.
When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.
She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”
Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”
“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”
You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.
“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.
“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”
Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”
“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”
“He could look you up on Facebook.”
“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.
“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”
“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”
Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.
“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”
Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”
Chapter One | Chapter Three
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manikas-whims · 4 years ago
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A Place Good Enough
[Read on AO3]
Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa
Summary:
Kaz pays Inej's indenture at the Menagerie and she joins the dregs.
_
A short fic that adds a little more of what happens that night after Kaz takes her with him.
Note:
I'm a new fan and read the SoC Duology this Feb.
This is my first time writing these characters so please excuse anything weird, I tried my best.
Inej may seem a bit scared in this because she isn't the Inej we know in SoC. This will be the first fic of many where I'll try to show our Crows before the events of SoC. A look at their daily lives in the Dregs. And the slow development of feelings between Kanej.
Hope you enjoy this short piece ♥
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Kaz
“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he says, “don't ever sneak up on me again.”
And yet as he ushers the Suli girl out of the salon, the bustling streets remind him how foolish it will be to roam around the barrel at night. Ofcourse a mere glance at his cane and gloved hands is enough to ward people off. No one in Ketterdam dares crossing the young man that goes by the title of Dirtyhands. Even so, it won’t be good for his carefully crafted reputation to be seen limping around at indecent hours with an exotic girl in tow. Dirtyhands doesn’t waste time on frivolous things. He has vengeance to condemn and for that he requires proper focus and meticulous steps. Brick by brick. He reminds himself.
With a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure no one is looking, he removes the deep grey coat he’s adorning and hands it to the girl. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the action, probably just as scared of him as the rest of this city.
“Cover yourself.” He commands and continues walking. Thankfully, the girl doesn’t waste time being confused or shocked and quietly does as told. He also notes how she maintains a distance whilst following him but makes sure to stick close enough, her feet soundless despite the bells tied around her dainty ankles.
Inej
Kaz Brekker finally slows his walk as they approach a shabby building in the remote parts of the Barrel. Its lit and noisy but Inej can tell its definitely not a clothing store. And it is only moments later that cold realization dawns on her. There was no release from enslavement to begin with, just a deal struck between a bawd from the west stave and the lieutenant of a notorious gang in the east stave. It was a sham all along. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would one of the most sinister criminals in Kerch buy her out of slavery only to be shifted to an indenture? She should’ve been skeptical. Instead, she had been hopeful because the boy named Dirtyhands is after all, a young one like herself. She thought he may have empathized with her. He had even offered his coat to her. But oh what an utter fool she had been! Everything in Ketterdam comes with a price. Even something as natural as freedom.
Should she sprint away? She can take-off right now. He hasn’t looked back even once to check if she’s there. And he’s a cripple! She can easily outrun him. Yet all these plans formulating in her head are laced around a grim sense of fear. Kaz Brekker doesn’t need a reason. Or so she has heard. He has already earned an ill reputation for being whimsical. She mustn’t start giving him reasons to chase and drag her back down these dark alleys. So she quietly trails behind him as the door opens with a creak.
Men of varying ages who had been busy chatting and drinking, stare at them. His entry seems to raise everyone’s attention as they watch him walk by and approach the staircase. Although that’s all she sees as she continues after the uncaring boy, she does hear numerous brazen remarks.
“Am I too drunk or has Brekker actually brought in a girl?”
“Ghezen! We all must be sloshed.”
“I almost believed something was going on between him and that Zemeni boy.”
“So…Suli huh?”
Some snickers follow this particular remark but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Does this mean their assumptions aren’t wrong? A wave of panic courses through her but Inej tries to calm herself with deep breaths, tries to focus her mind on the stairs instead. She has faced all sorts of repulsive men in the sheets. Dirtyhands can’t be much different. And even if the rumors aren’t false and he’s part-demon beneath the façade of his sharp suits,  she can still push herself to handle anything. If serving as his mistress will warrant her safety from the likes of Tante Heleen, she can do this. 
A soft clicking sound pulls her out of her trail of anxious thoughts. She notices they’ve walked past several floors and are currently going up into an attic. The inside isn’t much special but appropriately furnished— an old door placed atop several crates acting as a desk, a big window overseeing the surroundings and a door separating what she assumes must be a storage of sorts or a bedroom.
When Brekker finally turns around, his expression as unreadable as ever, Inej shivers. She takes one last gulp of air in hopes of easing herself. She can do this. She just needs to leave her body like she always does. Let the little lynx take care of such matters.
She begins by discarding his coat. Her eyes are lowered to the floor but she can sense his unwavering gaze. Maybe he’s one of those who take pleasure in watching a woman undo herself for him. Or maybe its something else entirely. His stoic demeanor doesn’t provide much to guess. Her shaky hands reach for the hooks in the back of her purple blouse. I can endure this! She mentally assures herself.
“What exactly are you doing?” comes his low voice, like a rasp of stone on stone.
Her hands fumble and come to a halt. She raises her eyelids to find a barely visible, amused smirk marring his pale countenance. “I..thought..I just–”
“Inej, was it?” he interrupts, leaning his weight on his frightening cane shaped like the head of a crow. Did she do something wrong? Will he use it on her? Her shoulders hunch slightly in preparation of whatever is to come. She hears an audible sigh instead. “I don’t remember us agreeing to such terms back at the Menagerie.”
Now she does look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh..”
He passes a hand through his hair. “But since you seem eager to–”
“I’m not!” she yells, her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. Frankly she doesn’t know how to react. It’s her first time speaking to a man who isn’t demanding any sexual favors from her but isn’t being very nice either.
He hobbles over to the makeshift desk and settles on a chair behind it. “Let me guess,” he starts, resting his bad leg on the tabletop and the cane in his lap. “You didn’t trust me.”
“I did!” she protests like a child  falsely accused of stealing candies. However, the embarrassment of her response follows immediately and she tilts her head down again. “Not truly but–”
“Wrong answer.” His tone is even more gritty now. “Its good that you expected the worst. Never trust anyone in the barrel.”
Inej looks at him again. It’s far too late for that lesson now. She’s learnt it the harshest of ways.
“I may be many things but I keep my word, Inej.” He adds solemnly, then fishes out a lone key from his pants' pocket. “Here” he gestures for her to come forward and receive it.
She scurries to the desk and takes it, her fingers lightly grazing along his gloved ones. Is he sending her on an errand already? Is procuring something important going to be her first task for the Dregs?
“Head downstairs and unlock the room directly below this attic with the key.” He tells simply and starts working on the tall stacks of papers lying on the desk.
She waits for further details but when he says nothing more she inquires herself, “For what?”
He glances at her, a brow quirked as if mocking her obliviousness. “Its your room from now on. Go get some sleep.”
“What about my..services?” she asks.
“We’ll discuss all that tomorrow morning.” He answers and waves her off, willing her to leave already.
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Downstairs, upon unlocking an old cream-colored door and switching on the light, Inej is greeted by a tiny room. There’s a window overlooking the barrel, a cot arranged directly below it and an empty trunk lying open. Fortunately, everything is clean and dry and without any trace of smells.
As she steps inside, memories of her old life flash before her bleary eyes. This place is not even close to the large tents she used to perform in with her parents yet for some reason, she feels warm. Its not home but it’s good enough.
Shutting the door, she turns off the light and drops unceremoniously onto the cot. Moonlight illuminates the room- her room- in a dim glow. And slowly it happens. Her tense body relaxes into the mattress and her unshed emotions are set free in the form of tears slipping down her cheeks. Loud sobs rack her small frame as her hands hug the grey coat close to her chest. Amidst her shock and disbelief at actually being saved from sexual exploitation, she must have forgotten to return it. Kaz Brekker’s statement was like a dream she’s had every night since being stolen and shackled. A dream of being saved from the hell that is prostitution. I keep my word, Inej. She giggles at the sound of her real name being called by this stranger, tears staining her lips. She hasn’t heard it in so long that she almost forgot who she was. In letting her body go so as to persevere everyday at the Menagerie, she hadn’t noticed that the lively girl called Inej Ghafa was also withering away. She clutches the coat tighter as if fiercely trying to hold onto her remaining self. And for the first time since an year, she sleeps without the fear of being hurt.
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Hope it was enjoyable!
I'm thinking of writing a short sequel drabble where Inej just goes to return Kaz's coat in front of everyone at the Dregs xD
.
SoC Masterlist
( divider by @firefly-graphics )
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adorablele · 4 years ago
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@riothae ♡ to my darling table leg 💞 this is to push the doyoung dream boy agenda. and also i’m sorry for not releasing this on your birthday, please accept this belated birthday gift.
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☍ pairing; kim doyoung x reader ☍ genre; fluff, romance, a little bit of angst but mostly fluffy // apocalypse!au, zombie apocalypse!au, strangers to lovers!au, soulmate!au, parallel world!au ☍ word count; 4, 210  ☍ summary; you have your very own dream boy, a literal man of your dreams and he goes by the name of Kim Doyoung ☍ a/n;  don’t be fooled by the beginning, 99.9% of this is just dialogue. also I tried my very best to avoid using the word zombies to describe the people who were affected by the virus because...yeah it has something to do with the characters mindset but i didn’t get to explore that because I wanted to focus on the romance lmao ANYWAYS PLEASE ENJOY AND FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED since this is my first ever apocalypse!au and longest fic (in general and for doyoung)
trigger warning(s); mentions of weapons, use of weapons (doyoung uses a machete, mc also uses a weapon to kill the zombies), mention of blood 
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This has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. 
“Hey!” you screamed, banging together two pots. 
The growling behind you started to multiply. 
You smirked, continuing to clash up more noise, “C’mere!” 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw two rotted figures make their way towards you. The adrenaline in your veins pushed your legs to move faster. You heard the growling behind you grow louder, more shuffling of feet syncopated between your own. Out of either confidence or pure insanity―quite possibly both―you turned around to admire the hoard of creatures that you managed to gather.   
Disgust swirled in your stomach. They were ugly with skin so pale that you could see the infected black veins running through their body. They snapped at you with rotted teeth, blistered lips and blood-shot eyes. 
You laughed. “You’re so slow.”
Those vicious, viscera eating monsters didn’t seem to like your taunt. With inhumane twists of their bodies, they started to sprint towards you. This was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Still, you shouted at them and banged your pots. Your pace was already outmatched by theirs, but it didn’t help that you were walking backwards. 
“Just a little closer, I know you can do it!” you cheered. 
By now, more monsters have noticed the ruckus that you’ve caused and they decided they wanted to join in on the fun. That’s when you decided to continue running. You could hear their growls growing closer and closer. For a split second, there was a single drop of fear that touched your spine, or rather, a finger. Acting on instinct, you slammed the pan into the head of the intruder. 
You were done for. They were catching up to you. 
And yet, you kept running, faster than you’ve ever ran. Despite the fact that any one of the, probably, hundreds of virus-infected bodies were one step away from tearing you limb from limb, you laughed. 
This was it. This was the end. 
This was where you die.
The maniacal smirk on your face never ceased. You didn’t know how long you’d be able to run for, but you kept going. At least, you tried to until you were suddenly slammed by a body quite larger than your own. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, the buildings behind you a blur until you were pulled into an abandoned convenience store. 
“Are you insane?” the stranger scowled. 
One second, two, three before you gathered up your wits. 
“Let go of me,” you shouted, pushing off the stranger, “and yeah, I am.”
You aimed your gun at the stranger who held his arms up in surrender. 
“A thank you would be nice,” he frowned. 
The tall man was dressed in tattered jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. Around his wrists were newspapers bound by masking tape. He was covered in blood, dirt and grime; chapped lips and sharp eyes; black hair nestled messily on top of his head. Aside from all the cuts and bruises, you would deem him handsome. Although, that’s not of importance right now. 
“What would I be thanking you for?” 
“For saving you,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I didn’t need saving.”
He scoffed, “You were about to die.” 
“I’m already dead,” you muttered, “we all are.”
The stranger raised his brows, “Is that so?”
“There’s nothing to live for,” you replied.
He stared you in the eyes. “Then go back out there. Go say hello to your fanclub.”
A brief staredown occurred, his gaze challenging your own. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t walk back out there. At that moment, you wanted to see how close you could get to Death, but when it really came down to it, you didn’t want to die, not to those things anyways, and―as much as you’d like to say otherwise―most definitely not now.  You were on the brink of insanity, yes, but you weren’t completely diving in head first. You also knew that deep-down, you’re relieved that he saved you. 
And he knew that too. 
“Don’t move!” you shouted when he started to lower his arms.
He paused and looked over to the counter, “I’m just reaching for the candy.”
You eyed the counter where a bag of food laid and followed his movements closely as he reached for the opened bag of gummy bears on the counter.
“You’re human, just like me. We’re not like those...beasts out there, but if you really want to become like them, then go ahead.” He reached for the backpack lying on the floor by the counter and slung it over his back, “I already tried saving you once, though your actions aren’t in my controls.” 
He opened the back door of the grocery store and left. 
Your shoulders finally relaxed. You lowered your gun, then glanced out the window at the horde of monsters that roamed around aimlessly looking for the meal that had escaped them. Those soulless creatures were easy to read, easy to know what their intentions were. You turned back to the door where the stranger walked through. Who knows what his intentions were?
Yet, you decided to follow him.
For a block or two you followed him, watching as he slashed through the creatures with his machete. Occasionally, you too, killed the monsters that made their way towards you. Eventually, he entered a building and climbed all the way to the roof. 
You found him sitting at the edge, feet dangling as he stared ahead. His weapon lay next to him and his previous bag of opened gummy bears sat in his hand. You joined him by the edge, and this might be even stupider than attracting a mob of bloodthirsty fiends. 
Rather than shoving you off, he offered you some gummy bears which you accepted. He didn’t turn to look at you once. In silence, the two of you observed the abandoned city in front of you. Rubbled buildings weakly stood, streets filled with crashed cars, various monsters (who were once human) lingered on the sidewalks. The prettiest of all the ruins was the sky. A toxic mix of orange hues. Shapes of clouds filled the sky, providing no rain and no shade. The Sun was half over the horizon. It sent out constant waves of warmth. 
“I’m Doyoung,” he whispered, as if it were sacred to share his name. He turned to you, eyes vulnerable, a soft brown like the fresh soil used to plant a flower, “Kim Doyoung.”
You gasped out your name as you woke up. 
You sat up in your bed, dazed from the dream. Or, was it a dream? Panic slowly tickled your spine and you immediately turned on the news, phone dialing with numbers of your loved ones. 
After constant reassurances from your friends and family, you slumped on the couch. It was all just a dream. It was just a dream! You shook your head and went to wash your face in the bathroom. It was just a dream. A dream that you vividly remember. 
A dream with Kim Doyoung.
-
For the next few months―each month―you had one overly vivid dream that included Kim Doyoung and the apocalyptic, orange skied world. It mostly consisted of the two of you running around in empty fields, abandoned cities and hacking away at monsters. In many ways, it was you and Doyoung against the world. 
“Any updates on dream boy?” Kara, your best friend, smiled, sitting at the bar-counter of the diner you worked at. 
You placed her usual order of coffee in front of her. “You’re still calling him that?”
“Well, isn’t he?” she shrugged.
“Yeah…”
She smiled, “Any updates?”
Your heart thumped slightly at the question, the memory of the dream you had this morning resurfacing. 
The squelch of flesh echoed against the walls of the room as you and Doyoung explored the bakery. 
“Believe it or not, I was a baker,” he shared, slashing at a crazed waitress
“A baker?” you asked, raising your brows, quickly opening the door to the kitchen area. Running towards you was a murderous customer who, you assumed, didn’t receive the food they wanted. After taking care of the virused creature, you frowned at the disemboweled chef on the floor, “Should we bake in this kitchen?” 
“Do you want to?”
“Not with this on the floor,” you mumbled with a pout, “I thought we finally found a place!”
He shrugged, “Let’s just move the body.”
Together, the two of you, while trying not to gag, dragged away all the dead bodies in the kitchen and tossed them out. After another check around the bakery, the two of you barricaded the windows and doors, also checking through them to make sure no more rotted mouths were running towards you. 
Once all safety precautions were taken care of, Doyoung took out a container of sanitary wipes.
You snorted, “Are you really going to clean?”
“I told you, I was a baker, and in order to cook or bake, you need a clean area.”
You didn’t say anything, only smiling in amusement as he started to wipe the counter. 
“Aren’t you going to help me?” he asked.
Your smile turned upside down as you saw the dusty counter, bloodied floors and molded dishes. “Do I have to?” 
Doyoung threw the container of sanitary wipes at you. You caught it with a grumble. After a good three hours, the kitchen was finally clean enough for Doyoung’s standards. 
“I can’t believe you wanted to clean on your birthday. We could’ve just grabbed one of the pastries or gotten a cake from another place,” you sighed. 
“Well, if we did that, then you wouldn’t make me a cake.”
“Aren’t you the baker?” You countered. 
“Yep!” he leaned against the counter, “but you’re the one who promised to make me a cake.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, dragging your feet as you made your way over to the pantry. 
Somehow, you managed to follow the recipe that you tore from a cookbook and not burn down the entire building. You grabbed the cake from the counter, “Let’s hope you enjoy this, Mr. I’m-a-baker-so-I’m-going-to-give-your-novice-attempt-at-a-cake-a-rating-out-of-ten.” 
“Just an FYI, I had my own bakery,” he proudly added.
“Showing off now, I see,” you chuckled, placing a one tier cake with a very messily and unnecessarily large ‘Happy Birthday Doyou’ written on it. “I ran out of space for your name,” you explained as you added a candle, “but it’s the thought that counts, right?”
“2 points off,” Doyoung called out, “didn’t complete your decorations, y/n? Not good.”
“No mercy, huh?” you tsked, lighting up the candle, “not even one point for the effort?”
He shrugged. 
“Guess I’ll just have to impress you with my singing skills,” you sighed. 
Doyoung watched with amused eyes, “You can try.”
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Arden- ” 
“Minus another two points.” 
Your jaw dropped, “What, I totally was hitting that high note!”
Doyoung shook his head, “First off, no. Secondly, who even is Arden.”
“Don’t know, maybe it was a classmate of mine whose birthday just happens to be today,” you shrugged. 
He raised a brow.
”Look, I just wanted to say a random name other than yours.” 
“Another point off.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Insulting the judge,” he shook his head, holding back a smile, “another point.”
“Doyoung!” you whined.
He laughed, “Okay, okay. I’ll give back two points if it tastes good.”
“Four if it blows you away,” you bargained.
“Deal.” 
Although you watched with a confident smile, your heart pumped nervously in your chest. You weren’t the best cook, nor baker, so you knew that there was a chance that the cake wouldn’t taste that good. And you were right. 
Doyoung’s face twisted into a sour expression. 
“It’s…”
“Just say it,” you sighed, “don’t hold back.”
“Horrible.”
You sighed and sat down next to him. You took a piece of the cake to taste. Upon the abomination you called a cake landed on your tastebuds, you realized that you deserved a final rating of -54325/10. 
“This tastes like…very salty sand,” you gagged, “did I forget the sugar or something?”
Doyoung got up from his seat and analyzed your ingredients. “My love, I think you did.” He then placed the bag of what you thought was sugar in front of you. 
“It’s salt?!”
Needless to say, Doyoung saved his own birthday cake by making one himself. You insisted that you should help which, reflecting back on it, you weren’t sure was a good idea or not. Multiple times, you got distracted by the way the dim lights of the kitchen seemed to highlight his face, or the way it felt too comfortable with his hand over yours when he would teach you how to do something. It left your stomach flipping, palms a little sweaty, and your heart ready to burst out of your chest. 
“And it’s done!” he smiled, finding the last flower decoration on the cake. 
It was clear who decorated what. 
All the orderly placed strawberries, raspberries and blackberries, along with the prettily swirled flowers and legible font were obviously Doyoung’s expertise whereas the little random patches of unevenly placed blueberries and poorly attempted flowers that ended up looking like dots were your humbly added touches. 
“Wait, I want to add one last thing,” you told him.
You took the piping bag full of royal icing from him and started to shakily draw on the corner of the cake. 
“Is that...a bunny?”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you concentrated, “Yep.”
“Why a bunny?”
“You look like a bunny when you smile,” you nonchalantly confessed.
Doyoung didn’t say anything.
“Alright!” you smiled, proud of the animal that you drew. You turned to Doyoung who you were surprised to see already looking at you. “Doyoung?”
He looked towards the cake and cleared his throat, “You uhm, you ready to sing?”
“I thought we were just going to eat it?” 
“Oh…”
“Well, I mean, unless you want to hear my amazing vocal-”
“Let’s just eat,” he grimaced.
You laughed, taking a knife and slicing a piece. You offered for him to take the first bite. 
“No, no, you taste it.”
“You’re the birthday boy,” you countered.
“And as the birthday boy, I want you to take the first bite.”
You frowned, “Pulled that one on me, huh?”
He only gave you the bunny smile that made your knees weak. 
“Fine,” you grumbled, taking a bite of the cake. It tasted a thousand times better than the cake that you made. “Oh my- This is really good! You need to try it.”
You didn’t get a chance to fully give Doyoung a piece of cake because he gently cupped your jaw, turning your chin to face him. 
“I think I’ll try it now.”
Before you could respond, he kissed you. It was quick, unexpected on both sides of the party. That didn’t stop him from kissing you a second time though. This time, it was less hesitant and a little longer. He pulled away, yet again. 
The two of you took time staring into each other’s eyes. His thumb rubbed against your cheek. 
“You’re absolutely breath-taking,” he confessed.
You smiled, “Doyoung…”
“Completely stunning,” he whispered, leaning closer. 
Your eyes started fluttering close as you muttered his name.
“Yeah?” 
“Kiss me.”
Kara’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with mischief, “Oooo someone did have a dream.”
Your face felt hot. 
“Someone had a dream?” Felix asked curiously. He took the seat next to Kara and placed a plate full of waffles in between the three of you. 
Kara stuffed a piece in her mouth, “Dream boy strikesh ahjain.”
“What?” you mused.
She swallowed her food. “I said, dream boy strikes again,” Kara smiled, “perhaps, a little something happened?”
“Maybe a little something.”
“Like…” Felix trailed off. 
“Like… a kiss.” 
“You kissed him?!” your friends both exclaimed. 
Luckily, at the early hour of 6 in the morning, the diner was always empty except for the three of you. You rolled your eyes. “So what, we kissed,” you shrugged, “it’s just a dream.”
“Y/N,” Felix sighed in an exasperated tone, “it’s not just any dream-”
“It’s a dream with your dream boy!” Kara finished. 
“He could be your soulmate!” Felix gasped, “What if he’s having dreams like this too!”
“C’mon,” you gave your best friend a look of disbelief, “he’s not even real.”
“You don’t know that,” Kara told you, “there are people out there named Kim Doyoung.”
Felix tilted his head and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “You know, his name does sound pretty familiar.”  
You shook your head, “You guys are crazy.”
They continued to converse about people named Doyoung and possible suitors for you which you ignored and, instead, focused on continuing to wipe down the counter. The door to the diner then jingled as a customer stepped in. 
“Welcome in!” you greeted, still not looking up from the counter. Not hearing a response from the customer, you looked up. The rag in your hand dropped onto the counter. At your reaction, your friends stopped talking. 
Doyoung.
The man dressed in all black that stood at the door, smiled slightly, “Hello.” 
You felt the eyes of your friends. 
Clearing your throat, you nodded, “Oh uh, hi. Sit where you want.”
He nodded before making his way towards a corner table. 
“Looks like someone likes-” Kara started, but you interrupted her. 
“It’s him,” you told them quietly. 
“He’s the man of your-” they both exclaimed.
“Shut up!” you hissed before they could finish their sentence. 
They both glanced over at the man looking out the window before turning back to you with wide grins.
“He’s the man of your dreams?” they both asked excitedly.
“You two are unbelievable,” you mumbled, taking a menu and walking over to the man.
“Here’s your menu. My name is y/n, I’ll be serving you today. Just let me know when you’re ready to order,” you smiled. 
When Doyoung, or the man that looked like Doyoung, heard your name, you could’ve sworn that his eyes widened slightly, but you shook off the thought and left when he mutely nodded his head at you. 
“It’s dream boy,” Kara immediately said once you returned back to the counter. 
You shook your head in disbelief, looking over at him before back to Kara. “No.”
“What do you mean no?” Felix quietly whispered.
“Just because it looks like him doesn’t mean it is him! He’s just a dream,” you nodded over at Doyoung, “that guy, he’s real.”
While you bickered quietly with your friends, Doyoung spared another glance your way. It was odd seeing you in normal clothing, ones that weren’t tattered or bloodied. You weren’t holding your usual weapon, and you most definitely weren’t bashing heads. Though, he couldn’t help but admire you in the same way he had in his dreams. 
“Completely stunning,” he mumbled. 
When you dropped the rag, he was sure that you recognized him; recognized him as the Kim Doyoung from NCT. When your friends kept whispering and looking back at him, he knew that, not only you, but also your friends knew who he was. Doyoung turned back to the menu.
He doubted you knew had the same dreams as him. He did feel a bit awkward considering the fact that he dreamt of kissing you without knowing that you were an actual person. Maybe he should leave? After all, he was hoping to come to this diner because it was relatively empty, and he just hoped that the people in here wouldn’t know him. 
He glanced once more over to the counter where your friends quickly turned their gaze away from him. 
“Guys, he’s looking over here,” you muttered, “you’re making him feel uncomfortable.”
“You’re right,” Felix mumbled, “we can’t destroy your chances at dating dream boy.”
Kara nodded, “Yes, we’ll leave.”
“What?” you exclaimed, a bit louder than intended. Lowering your voice, you sent a panicked glance at your friends who were packing up, “Where are you going?”
“Well, I have to go to work now,” Kara sighed loudly, slinging her bag over her shoulder, “I’m going to get going.”
Felix followed Kara’s lead and stood up, “Yeah, I have to go walk my cat.”
Before you could process that Felix doesn’t have a cat, they were out the door, leaving you alone, in the diner, at approximately 6:37 AM with a boy that―just this morning―you dreamt of kissing. Your face felt heated again. 
Shaking your head, you looked over at Doyoung who was analyzing the menu. 
For the first time, you could clearly see him. His hair matched the color of his black long-sleeve turtleneck that was tucked into some black jeans. No blood, no dirt, no machete, just him. Just him and the highlight of the Sun on his cheeks. That reminded you of the dream you had and you shook away the daze, turning your attention to the very interesting tile of the counter that looked like it needed some serious scrubbing (not really). 
“I’m ready to order,” Doyoung softly called out. 
You quickly walked over to him, jotted down his order, then ran away to hide in the kitchen. Your body worked on auto-pilot as you prepared his meal. With his drink and food in hand, you started to walk back towards his table. Doyoung was staring out the window and he was humming. 
As you got closer, you realized that you knew that song. 
“Do you remember what the stars looked like?”
In the middle of an empty grass field, you laid with Doyoung. Your head was rested on his chest, and you felt his voice vibrate throughout his chest. 
“Yeah,” you told him, “they look like your eyes.”
You could feel Doyoung roll his eyes, “I’m serious.”
“So am I!”
He chuckled and brushed his fingers through your hair. “Did you ever stare at the stars and see everything you wanted? Did you ever see your ambitions? Your achievements?”
“Getting deep here, aren’t we?”
Doyoung sat up, “Have you?”
You stared at him for a moment before turning to the endless orange sky. The Sun never seemed to move from its place over the horizon. 
“Yeah, I have.”
A pause of silence. 
“When I looked up at the stars, I saw my future. I saw the plans I had, the answers to my problems, I saw hope. However...” you smiled sadly at the orange hues, “they all went up in flames.”
Doyoung placed his hand on yours. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get that deep,” you crookedly smiled, but Doyoung only pulled you into a hug. And the two of you stayed like that for a while. 
“What did you see?” you asked when the two of you were back to laying on the floor. 
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“Me on stage, singing.”
“Singing?”
He sighed, “Yep. It was nothing more than a hobby, but my grandmother would tell me that I was a singer in some other life. She told me that if I looked at the stars, they would show me.” 
You chuckled, “Kim Doyoung, a singer.”
“I’m sharing a heart-touching story and you’re laughing.”
“Sorry,” you gave his knuckle a kiss, “it’s my coping mechanism.”
He intertwined his hand with yours, “I’m just kidding, but is seeing me as a singer that funny?”
You shrugged, “A bit hard to believe.”
“Really?” he asked, sitting up, untangling your hands.
“A little,” you admitted. 
He stood up and lent you a hand. “C’mon.”
“Where are we going?” you asked, taking his offer. 
The two of you were back to traversing through empty fields and abandoned streets (fighting zombies along the way) until you stopped in front of a music store. Ripped posters hung from the window, a broken open sign dangled from the door, and a few savage creatures were lingering inside. Using the power of teamwork, you and Doyoung were finally able to do what you pleased.
“So why’d you bring me here?”
He sat a keyboard, “I’m going to play for you.”
“Doyoung, that’s going to attract a lot of noise,” you peeked through the boarded windows, “is this really a good idea?”
“Aren’t you five kills behind me?” Doyoung asked.
The competitive side of you perked at the mention of your kill counter. You were reminded of the little daily game that you and Doyoung decided to play. It was simply just to see who could kill the most virus-infected barbarians you could in a day. 
But, your smarter side still worried about safety. 
“I’ll sing you two lines,” he told you, “just two lines.”
“Fine,” you sighed.
“This is an original, by the way.”
“Wow, an original song,” you teased, “just for me.”
He winked, “Of course.”
“What’s it called?”
“Lost Souls,” you mumbled, “the song is called Lost Souls.”
“You’re actually my dream boy,” you blurted.
“What?” 
You awkwardly placed his food down on the table, along with his drink, “Uhm-”
Outside the window behind him, you could’ve sworn you saw the setting change and a creature run head first into the window. You gasped as Doyoung quickly turned towards the noise. “The apocalypse,” he mumbled. 
Slowly, the blue sky started to change. “Orange skies,” you announced.  
The tables were rusted, chairs torn, walls peeling. “Empty buildings,” he added. 
Doyoung turned to face you, the same warm eyes as in your dreams staring right into your own. A certain dream resurfaced. 
You looked at the familiar looking convenience store, “Is this the building where we met?”
Doyoung didn’t answer you, only saying, “I hope you like watermelon ring pops.”
“What?” you laughed, watching as he reappeared from between the aisles.
He stood in front of you, unwrapping the watermelon ring pop. He then bent down on one knee. 
“Just you and I?” he asked.
“Against the world.”
130 notes · View notes
bluecarelesswhisper · 3 years ago
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TOP 100 FEMALE SOLO SINGERS OF THE '50S AND '60S
Patti Page - All My Love, The Tennessee Waltz, Mockin' Bird Hill, I Went to Your Wedding, The Doggie in the Window, Cross Over the Bridge, Allegheny Moon, Old Cape Cod; Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte
Connie Francis - Who's Sorry Now, My Happiness, Lipstick on Your Collar, Everybody's Somebody's Fool, My Heart Has a Mind of its Own, Where the Boys Are, Don't Break the Heart That Loves You
Brenda Lee - Sweet Nothin's, I'm Sorry, I Want to Be Wanted, Fool #1, Break it to Me Gently, All Alone Am I
Kay Starr - Wheel of Fortune, Side By Side, Changing Partners, If You Love Me (Really Love Me), Rock and Roll Waltz
Doris Day - A Guy is a Guy, Secret Love, If I Give My Heart to You; Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera); Everybody Loves a Lover
Dionne Warwick - Anyone Who Had a Heart, Walk on By, I Say a Little Prayer, (Theme from) Valley of the Dolls, I'll Never Fall in Love Again
Aretha Franklin - I Never Loved a Man (The Way I Love You), Respect, Baby I Love You, Chain of Fools, The House That Jack Built
Teresa Brewer - Music! Music! Music!, Till I Waltz Again With You, Ricochet, A Tear Fell, A Sweet Old Fashioned Girl
Jo Stafford - Shrimp Boats, You Belong to Me, Jambalaya, Keep it a Secret, Make Love to Me!
Rosemary Clooney - Come On-a My House, Half as Much, Botch-A-Me, Hey There, This Ole House
Joni James - Why Don't You Believe Me, Have You Heard, Your Cheatin' Heart; My Love, My Love; How Important Can it Be?
Petula Clark - Downtown, I Know a Place, My Love, This is My Song, Don't Sleep in the Subway
Dinah Washington - I Don't Hurt Anymore, What a Diff'rence a Day Makes, Unforgettable, This Bitter Earth
Mary Wells - The One Who Really Loves You, You Beat Me to the Punch, Two Lovers, My Guy
Georgia Gibbs - Kiss of Fire, Seven Lonely Days, Tweedle Dee, Dance With Me Henry (Wallflower)
Lesley Gore - It's My Party, Judy's Turn to Cry, She's a Fool, You Don't Own Me
Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walkin'; How Does That Grab You, Darlin'?; Sugar Town, Love Eyes
Sarah Vaughan - Make Yourself Comfortable, How Important Can it Be?, Whatever Lola Wants, Broken-Hearted Melody
Dusty Springfield - I Only Want to Be With You, Wishin' and Hopin', You Don't Have to Say You Love Me, Son-Of-A Preacher Man
Ruth Brown - Teardrops From My Eyes, 5-10-15 Hours, (Mama) He Treats Your Daughter Mean, Oh What a Dream
Kitty Wells - It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels, Makin' Believe, Searching (For Someone Like You), Heartbreak U.S.A.
Etta James - The Wallflower, All I Could Do Was Cry, At Last, Tell Mama
LaVern Baker - Tweedlee Dee, Play it Fair, Jim Dandy, I Cried a Tear
Gale Storm - I Hear You Knocking, Teen Age Prayer, Dark Moon
Dinah Shore - My Heart Cries For You, Sweet Violets, Chantz-Chantez
Jaye P. Morgan - That's All I Want From You, Danger! Heartbreak Ahead, The Longest Walk
Eydie Gorme - Mama, Teach Me to Dance; You Need Hands, Blame it on the Bossa Nova
Carla Thomas - Gee Whiz (Look at His Eyes), B-A-B-Y, I Like What You're Doing (To Me)
Patsy Cline - Walkin' After Midnight, I Fall to Pieces, Crazy
Peggy Lee - Lover, Fever, Is That All There Is
Dee Dee Sharp - Mashed Potato Time, Gravy (For My Mashed Potatoes), Ride!
Kitty Kallen - Little Things Mean a Lot, In the Chapel in the Moonlight, My Coloring Book
Annette - Tall Paul, O Dio Mio, Pineapple Princess
Cher - All I Really Want to Do, Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down), You Better Sit Down Kids
Barbra Streisand - People, He Touched Me, Second Hand Rose
Linda Scott - I've Told Every Little Star, Don't Bet Money Honey, I Don't Know Why
Connie Smith - Once a Day, Ain't Had No Lovin', The Hurtin's All Over
Barbara Lewis - Hello Stranger, Baby I'm Yours, Make Me Your Baby
Anita Bryant - Till There Was You, Paper Roses, In My Little Corner of the World
Skeeter Davis - My Last Date (With You), The End of the World, I Can't Stay Mad at You
Sue Thompson - Sad Movies (Make Me Cry), Norman, Paper Tiger
Della Reese - And That Reminds Me, Don't You Know, Not One Minute More
Loretta Lynn - Don't Come Home A-Drinkin' (With Lovin' on Your Mind), Fist City, Woman of the World (Leave My World Alone)
Betty Everett - You're No Good, The Shoop Shoop Song, There Comes a Time
Jackie DeShannon - What the World Needs Now is Love, Put a Little Love in Your Heart, Love Will Find a Way
Timi Yuro - Hurt, What's a Matter Baby, Make the World Go Away
Debbie Reynolds - Tammy, A Very Special Love, Am I That Easy to Forget
Gogi Grant - Suddenly There's a Valley, Who Are We, The Wayward Wind
Maxine Brown - All in My Mind, Funny, Oh No Not My Baby
Betty Johnson - I Dreamed, Little White Lies, The Little Blue Man
Jean Shepard - A Satisfied Mind, Beautiful Lies, Second Fiddle (To An Old Guitar)
Shirley Ellis - The Nitty Gitty, The Name Game, The Clapping Song
Little Eva - The Loco-Motion, Keep Your Hands Off My Baby, Let's Turkey Trot
Vera Lynn - Auf Wiederseh'n Sweetheart, Yours, If You Love Me (Really Love Me)
Eartha Kitt - C'est Si Bon, Santa Baby, Somebody Bad Stole De Wedding Bell
Lulu - To Sir With Love, Best of Both Worlds, Morning Dew
June Valli - Crying in the Chapel, I Understand, Apple Green
Connie Stevens - Sixteen Reasons, Why'd You Wanna Make Me Cry, Mr. Songwriter
Jane Morgan - Fascination, The Day the Rains Came, With Open Arms
Nancy Wilson - (You Don't Know) How Glad I Am, I Wanna Be With You; Face it Girl, it's Over
Esther Phillips - Release Me, And I Love Him, When a Woman Loves a Man
Vikki Carr - It Must Be Him, The Lesson, With Pen in Hand
Little Peggy March - I Will Follow Him, I Wish I Were a Princess; Hello Heartache, Goodbye Love
Mindy Carson - Candy and Cake, My Foolish Heart, Wake the Town and Tell the People
Sandy Posey - Born a Woman, Single Girl, I Take it Back
Bobbie Gentry - Ode to Billie Joe, Fancy
Brenda Holloway - Every Little Bit Hurts, When I'm Gone
Eileen Rodgers - Miracle of Love, Treasure of Your Love
Barbara Lynn - You'll Lose a Good Thing, Second Fiddle Girl
Dottie West - Here Comes My Baby, Would You Hold it Against Me
Baby Washington - That's How Heartaches Are Made, Only Those in Love
Kathy Linden - Billy; Goodbye Jimmy, Goodbye
Cathy Carr - Ivory Tower, First Anniversary
Fontella Bass - Rescue Me, Recovery
Barbara Mason - Yes, I'm Ready; Sad, Sad Girl
Marianne Faithfull - As Tears Go By, Summer Nights
Shelley Fabares - Johnny Angel, Johnny Loves Me
Wanda Jackson - Let's Have a Party, In the Middle of a Heartache
Tammy Wynette - D-I-V-O-R-C-E, Stand By Your Man
Mama Cass - Dream a Little Dream of Me, It's Getting Better
Faye Adams - Shake a Hand, Hurts Me to My Heart
Jill Corey - I Love My Baby, Love Me to Pieces
Dodie Stevens - Pink Shoe Laces, No
Bettye Swann - Make Me Yours, Don't Touch Me
Jan Howard - Evil on Your Mind, Bad Seed
Nina Simone - I Loves You, Porgy; Ain't Got No; I Got Life
Norma Jean - Go Cat Go, I Wouldn't Buy a Used Car From Him
Miss Toni Fisher - The Big Hurt, West of the Wall
Damita Jo - I'll Be There, If You Go Away
Patty Duke - Don't Just Stand There, Say Something Funny
Bonnie Guitar - Dark Moon, Mister Fire Eyes
Gloria Lynne - I Wish You Love, Watermelon Man
Jody Miller - Queen of the House, Home of the Brave
Gisele MacKenzie - Hard to Get, The Star You Wished Upon Last Night
Betty Madigan - Joey, Dance Everyone Dance
Ketty Lester - Love Letters, But Not For Me
Barbara George - I Know (You Don't Love Me No More), You Talk About Love
Joanie Sommers - One Boy, Johnny Get Angry
Irma Thomas - Don't Mess With My Man, Wish Someone Would Care
Diane Renay - Navy Blue, Kiss Me Sailor
20 notes · View notes
needdatbag · 4 years ago
Text
Drinking You
notes: Hi! This is my first fanfiction ever. I just wanna see if anyone might like it? Haha...Anyway, if you do, please leave a like or a comment. Hope you enjoy! Oh and this is only the first part. 
Summary: You encounter a stranger on your way back from the grocery shop and everything about him pulls you in. 
Pairings: Eren Yeager x Reader; Various pairings eventually
Warnings: NSFW; mentions of smoking.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Part 1-Stranger Danger
You were not ok. Today was a hellish Monday like you rarely encountered. Of course Monday sucked in general  but it’s a different kind of pain when you work in a department full of detectives. Everyone is stressed day after day and they don’t have any notion about free time, for them it is equivalent with supplementary work. It’s been 4 months since you started working as the main profiler of the team and you feel as if you need to step up your game. Everyone likes you but the fact that you’re new in the field is noticeable. You do your best all the time but experience is key after all. So here you are, after working hours, walking out of the closest store while holding a beer and a pack of cigarettes in one hand while the other is busy holding the phone to your ear.
’’I will take a look as soon as I get back to my desk, I was planning on checking the brief details we have about this case anyway. I took the file before I left and I will be making an idea about the whole deal tonight. We will receive the rest tomorrow, right? I mean I can get something but without all the information it might just be wrong or incomplete.’’
Your boss sighed and agreed with you.
’’I know. There is a reason behind this lack of information but I am afraid you’ll have to find out tomorrow. I will explain everything to you as soon as we have the OK from the fucking higher-ups. Do what you can tonight, L/N.’’
He was tired but you almost swore you felt a tinge of sadness in his tone. Your gut told you something was just starting. You gulped.
’’Don’t worry sir. You’ll have the draft for the initial report on your desk as soon as I get to work.’’ 
You said goodbye and hung up while tossing the phone in the pocket of the pyjama pants you wore. You came home half an hour ago, ate a quick dinner and realised you forgot to buy the two things you needed for survival on days such as this Monday: a beer and cigarettes. Unhealthy coping but you got over that thought in college. Regrets were a pain in the ass and you wanted none so you did what you wanted.
 As you were walking towards your apartment building you couldn’t help but think about this case. Your team was way on the edge when they received word about it. They were silent about it and that scared you. Because, even if you only knew them for 4 months, you knew all of them were loud, outspoken and chaotic. Your head always throbbed at the end of the day. But you almost missed that today because instead of debates and childish arguments, this day was extremely tense and everyone seemed to be at each others throats out of silly things. As if they disagreed on something you had no idea about. It felt as if a powerful untouchable presence was messing with them and it saddened you but it also stirred your curiosity. Who or what was doing that? 
You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the person walking right in front of you and you bumped into them dropping your cigarettes in the process and almost dropping your beer but you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. 
’’I’m really sorry. I wasn’t paying attention…’’ you said as you immediately bent down to pick up your cigarettes but the stranger beat you to it.
’’It’s fine.’’ he answered in a low pleasant voice and started walking away. 
WITH YOUR CIGARETTES.
It took a second for you to register what happened and move. He walked away so casually that it pissed you off.
’’Heyo.’’ you said while grabbing his shoulder and making him turn to you. He was tall, well built with medium length long brown hair and green eyes. He was wearing an open black coat with a black cotton sweater and light blue jeans with a pair of some black and white Nike shoes. ‘Well damn’ you thought, ‘this theif is hot as fuck’. But priorities were priorities. You were going to offer him a piece of your mind. And if needed, a piece of your very basic physical training. 
He first looked at your hand on his shoulder and then at you with a total lack of interest. Without any facial expression he asked:
’’What?’’
You took your hand off his shoulder and attached it to your hip in a somehow sassy position. Then with the other hand where you held your beer, you pointed at the cigarette pack he held.
’’Give me back my ‘candies’...Stealing is a crime, jerk. Instead you could’ve asked for a few. I would’ve... ‘’
But he didn't seem to pay attention to you anymore as he looked at something behind your figure. He started walking, right past you to the spot where you bumped into him.
You were speechless. You debated a moment if you should chase him again but you decided as soon as you remembered you didn’t have any money on you anymore to buy a new pack. You turned with a determined look on your face. He was picking something from the ground and as soon as you got close to him, right before opening your mouth, he held out his hand to you, holding a pack of cigarettes. He had another one in the other. And then you realised and your face started to redden. ‘Shit’
’’I have my own ‘candies’ though it seems they are the same as yours.’
You grabbed your cigarettes slowly while touching his hand in the process. You got a chill down your spine. This time his eyes were fixated on you and all the courage from earlier was down the drain. You were embarrassed of course but the way his direct look intimidated you was surprising. Your gut was telling you something but you couldn’t quite understand it. You were busy staring right back into his cold green eyes. He looked away first and sighed. 
’’Well, if this is done, goodbye.’’ and walked away from you for the third time in 5 minutes.
Somehow that didn’t sit right with you. Your brain was telling you to just walk slowly home and finish the work you had left for today, take a shower and start everything again tomorrow, while your body was already chasing the long haired man, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You told yourself you just wanted to apologise for calling him a jerk but the truth was there was something invisible pulling you in his direction. Maybe it was your toxic curiosity or the silly fact that you two were smoking the same cigarettes, an old brand that made you forget things that screamed in your head constantly, or perhaps it was just the simple fact that he was a handsome stranger. Who knew? The only thing you knew was that you were a fool. But that never stopped you before. 
’’I’m sorry! I never meant to insult you….I should’ve just looked around...Usually I’m not such an airhead. I wonder how come I didn’t notice another pack on the ground.. heh.’’ you said while reaching him. You guys were walking in the same direction anyway. He didn’t say anything, he just looked straight ahead not really paying much attention to you but he also didn’t seem bothered by your presence.  As you reached a crosswalk and waited for the colour to change you watched his profile as discreetly as you could. He looked as if he was completely lost in thought but at the same time aware of everything surrounding him. He was close but far and that really tickled your brain. You groaned internally. 
‘I shouldn’t care, he is just a stranger whom I’ll never see again. Asking him for a coffee out of the blue would be weird too.. And he seems to be completely uninterested in my existence anyway, though I guess that is mostly because of my bloody pyjam..’
’’So what’s up with that pyjama?  he said out of the blue.
’’I don’t like to assume things but if you’re following me because you want to ask me out or something I think you might be my best friend's soulmate. He has the same Star Wars pyjamas.’’
Your mouth was hanging open. You looked down at your clothes and then back at him. He was watching you now as well. The light changed and he started walking as you followed.
’’I live on the other side of the road and this is what I usually wear at home, so no, I don’t really bother dressing up for a trip to the grocery store. And I’m just going home, I’m not following you..’’ 
You bit your lip as you hesitated before continuing wondering if you should say what you were going to say.
’’...and I also have a ..boyfriend.’’
You two reached the other side of the road and he suddenly stopped.
’’You’re lying.’’ he said calmly
Both of you stopped walking. You looked at him wide eyed. How could he know you were lying? He sounded so sure too. His expression seemed to change for a second when he saw your confused face, some sort of realisation hitting him while he shook his head.
’’Nevermind.’’
-He stepped closer to you and tilted his head, a few stray strands of hair falling randomly on his face. This guy was handsome, annoying but handsome. Even his skin seemed to have a special kind of glow, besides the fact that it was a beautiful tan colour and the combination with the kind of green/teal eyes that he had left you almost breathless in close proximity. Of course you lied. What boyfriend? You were working most of the time and you studied people for a living so of course you were overthinking everything about any guy that came your way. You either figured them too fast and they bored you or you didn’t even look their way. You were not easy to deal with either as you had a very straightforward personality on the outside but on the inside you were trying to keep everything from collapsing. You were confusing, caught between being intimidating, bad mouthed and weird or depressed and minding your own business in silence...and those moods were not exactly any guy’s cup of tea. 
So lately you always try to play the sweet girl card when it comes to guys, hiding your trust issues for another day. But this time you were not in control...of anything. It wasn’t even a big deal, really.
 You were just talking to a stranger. But his presence was dominating you effortlessly. And for some sort of reason you couldn’t even start to figure out why. Your brain was foggy, your breathing was irregular and your knees were suddenly weak when he got close to you.
‘What in the Twilight..’ you thought
You couldn’t read him while he seemed to have no problem reading you. And that bothered you the most.
’’You should go home..’’ he spoke in a lower, raspier voice ’’..I’m not as interesting as you might think. I’m a simple guy actually.’’
His words seemed so honest, his tone too. But something told you that he lied. Or that what he said might have been true. Once. But not anymore as his eyes didn’t meet yours when he spoke the last part.
You tried to ignore the sensation that formed in your stomach when he spoke so close to you in that voice that seemed to echo inside your head. You were getting a little lightheaded and for a moment you thought about the possibility of being physically sick. In this case this would've been the better scenario.
 ‘I should just go. Ignore everything about the way I feel now as if nothing will ever be boring again. Yes, I should ignore the fact that I don’t need to pretend because there is no point in doing so in front of this person. They see through me anyway. But that’s a bad thing and I’m not thinking clearly right now and he screams ’Stranger Danger’ and for God’s sake I work with the police...What should I do..His eyes are so pretty, his voice is so beautiful and I’m just a curious superficial fool.’
You took a breath and turned around while his eyes never left you. You started walking towards the entrance of your apartment complex and with every step your heart started beating faster and louder. Your ears were captivated by a weird inner buzz. You bit your lip and clenched your fist, your nails actually hurting the skin of your palms. 
‘Don’t do it. Don’t do it.’
But in a swift motion you turned around, fear, excitement, some sort of distorted happiness and an unusual laughing sensation taking over you.
’’Come upstairs for a coffee, Stranger-Danger?’’
His eyes were still on you when you turned around. After you finished your sentence he covered his mouth with a hand. He might have laughed at the nickname, you guessed. But he came anyway.
Later on you would come to realise that you saw something flickering in his cold eyes when you turned around. A cunning fire that hid behind that wall of ice. Who knows..?
It might have just been the fact that this was exactly what he was waiting for all along. 
But there was no coffee upstairs. 
The moment the elevator doors closed you started kissing, like there was an unspoken agreement that this was going to happen exactly then. The kiss wasn’t rough as you would have expected it to be, it was gentle just as a declaration or an apology. But that soon changed as both of you became consumed with each other. The kiss became meaner from both of your sides, egoistical, as if both of you were trying to steal more from each other than the other did.  He caressed your cheeks and then his hands travelled to your neck where he felt your skin and your pulse. His hands were cold but the touch of his fingertips on you felt as if it burned your skin, leaving scars even if there were none. You held on to his coat while he pushed your back against the wall. After you stopped kissing, he licked his lips and looked into your eyes. You looked back. Nothing said. He started kissing and biting your neck.
When you entered your apartment clothes started flying left and right and while kissing him, between undressing and tugging at each other's clothes , you could only be thankful that you were wearing the ‘good’ underwear you still had on and not some panties with silly patterns you usually wore at home. Somehow you two reached your bedroom but you had no idea how because you were blind to mostly anything around you but him. He picked you up, your legs now straddling his waist as he walked and you could feel his muscles. His body was very well defined, strong arms,abs and everything, beautiful large shoulders and prominent collar bones. ‘Weird’ you thought...because he didn’t  really seem like he worked out. His body looked as if it developed naturally this way. You only saw that at the guys working in your department when they trained, the girls too. Their body developed over the years thanks to all the training.
 For a second your mind wandered to what he did for a living.
You didn’t know anything about him... but the way his lips tasted, the way he smelled so fresh yet intoxicating, the way he made you so dizzy when he stared into your eyes, those things left you unwilling to think about anything else besides the feeling of his body on yours. You were drowning in him, his presence overwhelming you. The way you two moved against each other felt like a feverish dream in which you were dancing. He was leading and you could only stare into his eyes even though you knew this wasn’t like you at all. 
He was far too intoxicating to be your type, and he was far too in control for you to be his. 
While he laid you on the bed gently his hands traced mindless patterns on the skin of your legs moving higher and higher towards your thighs where he started to grab your flesh making you groan. He was either teasing you or enjoying feeling every inch of your body. He started kissing your inner thigh, sucking, licking and biting his way up to your core.
’’You’re going to leave marks.’’ you said breathlessly
He raised his head from between your legs  and with a teasing but cold voice he said:
’’Is that a bad thing? Your ’boyfriend’ won’t mind.’’
Your face started to redden at the mention of the ’fake boyfriend’ and you opened your mouth to protest but in a quick motion he reached your face and kissed you. He was trying to shut you up by kissing you ruthlessly, biting your lips and sucking on your tongue. You couldn’t get a break and when you wanted to fight back he was kissing you even harder. 
He only stopped when he ran out of breath. You wanted to retort something again but he beat you to it. Between pants of air he said:
’’You sure like to talk a lot don’t you ?...But I guess I’ll drink you anyway.’’
He effortlessly tied his hair in a messy man-bun that fit him weirdly well. The lights were off in your apartment but the street light coming from your bedroom's window was highlighting all the right parts of his silhouette. His abdominal muscles, his strong thighs, the movement of his arms as he fixed his hair, the veins on his arms, his slender but strong neck, his jaw, the right side of his face, his lips, his straight nose, his green eyes who looked directly at you without giving you a break. You were done talking now. 
He slowly leaned over your naked torso while still maintaining eye contact and you could feel his warm breath on your skin. He watched you as if he was silently asking if you’re not backing away so you just nodded, ashamed of the fact that you were more excited than embarrassed. It was what it was. Your mind was fuzzy and your body was needy. And he intrigued you. However that was the part you chose to snooze for now.
He started kissing all over your breasts in a soft manner but eventually he transitioned into biting and teasing all over them, especially your nipples. You began slowly moaning because of the sensations that were overwhelming all your senses. He was only teasing your body but you were already melting. When he started placing wet kisses on your abdomen, going lower and lower, you squeezed your legs together and he felt it so he grabbed and squeezed on the side of one of your tights just to let you know that he was aware of the power he had on you.
When he finally reached your most sensible part you arched your back at the sensation of his tongue. Sure, you had sex before but it was almost always dry and this was also the first time someone went down on you. Like they knew exactly what they were doing and where to touch specifically. It was as if he knew what you wanted without even knowing you. It was strange. Suspicious. Addicting. Dangerous.
 He trailed his fingers against your back while he ate you out. You were putty in his hands, your body flushed and high on the way his mouth felt. He teased your clit mercilessly, over and over, until you came multiple times. The good kind of torture.
As he slowly entered you he started groaning and placed your hands on his shoulders. You moaned at the sensation of being filled. It felt just right, as if your bodies just ‘clicked’ in every way. He grabbed your face with his hands while he started thrusting.
’’Just... hold on ...to me and... relax.’’ he told you between groans and sighs
You nodded rapidly, not really caring about anything anymore besides the pleasure and relief you were seeking. Your bodies were rocking in sync with each other, both of your pulses skyrocketing with every increase in pace. He was thrusting faster and harder now. Your hands were not on his shoulders anymore but outstretched above your head, his strong ones holding them pinned to the bed as he was losing himself in the sensation of you.
You two fucked as if both of you were running away together but from different things. When both of you reached your high his eyes seemed to light up when he looked at your face consumed by his presence. For a few seconds, while he lost control and pleasure overwhelmed him, you felt as if you saw someone else, still him but different. A real fire seemed to burn in those eyes during those moments but you only gazed at it a little bit and it was gone, replaced by that wall of ice that effortlessly unnerved you.
He collapsed next to you as both of you caught your breath.
You two sat in silence not feeling the need to talk, His fingers were mindlessly drawing battens on the back of your palm. You liked that. Somehow it warmed you. You turned your head in his direction. He was watching the ceiling and you could swear his expression was a little warmer now but something still felt melancholic about it. He turned his head and looked back at you. You really tried to memorise the way his upper lip was more prominent than the lower one, the way his eyes had such a nice, kind shape yet they looked at something beyond what you knew, the way his skin had such a pleasant warm tone, the way his hair fell on his face. 
Your eyelids started to become heavy. You were tired but you tried to fight off the request your body and mind had regarding some rest. You really wanted to say something before you fell asleep so you mumbled in a sleepy voice.
’’..The more I look at you...the more...I don’t see you...smoking...I don’t know..why...tho..’’
Your body became heavier and your eyes were slowly closing. The only thing you saw before drifting into the dream world was the faint image of a smile on his face. 
‘’I don't.’’ he said 
You woke up late the next day and he was gone, as if everything was nothing but a weird illusion. You pushed away the feeling of disappointment, told yourself to grow up and forget last night and took a shower, ate breakfast, dressed up for work in some brown dress pants, a white sweater and some dark red leather heels, grabbed your jacket and bag from the hanger and left for work.
‘I was right. He is a fucking jerk. He didn’t even leave a note or something. I don’t even know his name..but I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll never see each other again.’
 You sighed.
You had more important things to do and worry about. How were you going to tell your boss, or The Captain as your crew called him, that you forgot the file you promised to look over, at work and you had no idea what the case that was assigned to your team and that was stressing everyone out, was about.
’’Captain Levi is going to beat the shit out of me..’’ you said out loud as you entered the building...even so...something bothered you as you could swear you placed the file inside your bag yesterday. You usually double check everything anyway.
You entered the HQ of the Survey Unit, your and your team’s unit and said a quick ’’Hello’’ to Jean, Sasha and Connie who were drinking coffee around Jean’s desk while discussing something intense. 
’’Hey, L/N...What is with the panicked attitude? Come drink a coffee with us and stop acting like the sky is going to fall. Need help with something ?’’
You took off your jacket and reached your desk. Nothing besides your cactus and your agenda that you usually left at work. The file was not here either. Hell. Your mind started going into overdrive.
’’The sky is actually falling Jean...and I’m the fucking sky.’’  you said while facepalming. How could you possibly lose the file?? A file with confidential police information.. You bent down and started searching for it under the desk but it was clear it wasn’t there.
Sasha was unpacking one of her sandwiches as Jean and Connie were both looking at you with a confused expression on their face. But their attention switched to Mikasa and Armin who entered the doors while being surrounded by a gloomy atmosphere. Mikasa looked as if she lost weight in the last two days while Armin’s dark circles were obvious testimonies of a sleep deprived individual. Jean and Connie went over to them discussing something you couldn’t hear while Sasha came in your direction. 
’’This really takes a toll on all of us...but I really pity Mikasa the most...I guess you read the brief details about the case...Having to arrest one of our own, someone who betrayed us and is also her step brother … Man..I would be stress eating like crazy..I still do it.. but anyway.’’
You snapped your head in her direction.
’’What? Mikasa has a brother?’’
Sasha raised a brow while chewing her food.
’’Yes. Though they are not related, she was adopted into his family when her parents were killed. His parents died too after a few years and they had to survive, together with Armin who was in the same situation. He and Armin had been best friends ever since they could remember. He betrayed us a year ago and went rogue...but we never knew how far he went.. The Military Police assigned him to us. I’m sorry... We never really spoke about this because it’s a sore subject…You must be confused.. Huh?’’
You were speechless. You never knew that. Not a single word about it. But you always that something was missing however you kept your silence about it. 
’’Why would the MP assign him to us? It’s cruel and it doesn't make sense..’’
Sasha shrugged and said:
’’My guess is that they need Cpt.Levi to catch him. After all, he trained him. The MPs are big mouthed but they were never able to tame Eren.’’
You raised a brow. ’’Eren?’’
Sasha nodded. 
’’Yeah, that’s his n….Y/N did you know you have something stuck on your bag?’’ she asked while pointing at the black bag you owned. It looked like a post it note.
‘What the hell..?’ 
You picked it up and noticed something written on it. The writing was a little bit messy and squarish.
’’MEETIIIIING!’’ screamed Hange from the conference room
 Sasha went ahead: ’’I’ll see you there. Hurry up.’’
The words written on the note were: ’’I’m sorry. You’re a kind person. Thank you.’’
There was no name but you knew it belonged to the stranger you met last night. You started breathing heavily.  It wasn't the fact that something felt off about the note but where it was placed. On your bag. 
The FUCKING FILE was IN the bag.
In your mind a memory flashed suddenly. 3 months ago, after working hours the whole team went out for some food and drinks. You and Armin discussed your favourite movie series. You froze while remembering the crucial detail of that conversation.
’’It’s kind of embarrassing but I even have pijamas with Star Wars..’’ Armin said while his face flushed red.
You placed a hand on your mouth remembering a part of last night’s events.
’’.. I think you might be my best friend's soulmate. He has the same Star Wars pyjamas.’’
’’L/N! Move it!’’ Cpt Levi’s voice snapped you out of your daze. 
You started walking shakingly thinking over and over again about the possibility of this all being a coincidence..but when you entered the conference room and saw the screen, your blood went cold.
 /Runaway-Eren Yeager/ Accusations / Terrorism/ Multiple Murder Acusations/ Insubordination/ WANTED/ Dead or Alive/
And right to all these accusations was the picture of a younger version of the guy you met last night.
Your ex-colleague.
You looked at the note in your hand. 
It made sense right now. He used you right from the start.
You felt like laughing but you sat down next to Jean, trying to compose yourself and paying attention to what your Capitan was saying. 
In your mind only one phrase kept repeating itself.
You just fucked the enemy.
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That was my first ever smut scene...Am I going to hell yet? haha
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evak-fic-rec-turtleanon · 4 years ago
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Evak Fics - Kid Fics
*** Isak and Even have a child together *** They are parents but to different children *** Only one of them is a parent 
***** THEY HAVE A CHILD TOGETHER *****
Nas by OrTheNightEverythingChanged (571 words) - Isak and Even take their daughter to the skatepark. 
Sugar Coat This Love For Me by i_once_wrote_a_dream (1k words) - A little argument over candy during Halloween. 
life with our little prince by glbertblythes (SERIES. 3 Fics) - Isak and Even adopt a little boy with prince curls and blue eyes. 
All in the Eyes of a Boy by MacksDramaticShenanigans (1.3k words) - the first time Isak and Even meet their son. 
all i want for christmas is you by stringsinmelody (1.3k words) - Isak and Even enjoy their first Christmas together with their baby. 
sugar and spice and everything nice by chasingflower (1.6k words) - Eskild and Noora finds Evak’s kid from the future. It’s adorable as heck. 
småfolk by stringsinmelody (SERIES. 5 fics) - a/b/o undertones. 
the room's hush hush and now's our moment by ahana (2.2k words) - A night in the life of Isak and Even, sixteen years later. 
Stjerner Lyser Skinnende by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.4k words) - Isak and Even attend their daughter’s music concert. She has a surprise for them. 
The Beginning of Believing by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.5k words) - Their children argue about Santa. 
I'll be there by Wolle19 (SERIES. 3 fics) - All Isak want is for his husband to be home for the holidays. Mpreg. 
I'll give you the brightest sunshine by goldenkisses (3k words) - It was something that they new would always happen, a life being brought into their lives that would make all the gloomy days into something so bright. Adoption. 
everything that happens is from now on. by Skamtrash (6.7k words) - Adoption. At the end so not a lot of the kid is involved here. This is part of a series. The next part, wrap your arms around my heart just like you always do. has more of the kid. 
Isn't He Lovely by MacksDramaticShenanigans (4.4k words) - the first time Evak’s kid meets his uncles. 
don't be wasting your time (on your own) by orphan_account (4.6k words) - Five things Even reminds himself not to forget, and the one thing he does. NOTE: The fic says this is a sequel and the first fic is a must read. But there’s no link so if you know which the main fic is, let me know. P.S. This could go under the different children category but they are already a family here so.. 
The Fools Who Dream by Janey_E (6k words) - A collection of moments from Isak and Even's family life, important and not-so-important. Kids, friends, mornings, evenings, weddings, birthdays, bad days, good days. 
Our Steady True North by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (9k words) - Five times Isak and Even were amicable; plus one time they just weren't. Co-parenting. Post break-up. 
i ain't no hercules by grinsekaetzchen (12k words) - Post-apocalypse world. This is a sequel. So SPOILERS. They kinda adopt this boy. The first part is if you must live, darling one, just live and it’s amazing. 
my entire world fits perfectly in my arms by theyellowcurtains (12.8k words) - A bunch of cuddle prompts. Not all of these are kid fics. 
(WIP) Everyday Evak: The Realistic Stories of Isak & Even by NeonViolet (14k words) - A realistic looks into Even and Isak's life. It's not always glamorous. 
you told me we were forever by Skamtrash (19k words) - Isak finds out he's having a baby soon after Even breaks up with him so he makes the decision not to tell him. Except Even finds out on his own 3 years later. 
The Fiction of Reality by Midlifecrisis (24k words) - Isak and Even have a daughter, but life is not plain sailing. 
Soup is for the Soul by unfancyandy (26k words) - This is a sequel. So SPOILERS. set 5 years after "Sleep Is For Dreamers," Even and Isak are starting a new adventure. 
Evak Family by orphan_account (SERIES. 7 fics) 80k- Isak is nineteen, Even is twenty-one, and they had a plan. A plan that they've very, very carefully stuck to. Until, that is, Isak gets sick and can't seem to figure out what's wrong with him. Spoiler: he's not sick. Mpreg. 
You Are Everything I Have Never Been by staylucky (78k words) - Isak Valtersen is an unpresented, soon-to-present omega who is convinced his best friend Jonas Vasquez is his alpha mate until he meets a very charming and persuasive new alpha, Tall Stranger aka Even Bech Naesheim, making him question everything. The kid part comes later on in the fic. 
Calm After by desp3ration (270k words) - This is a sequel to Tidal Waves . So SPOILERS. The tags say Evak becoming parents but I have not yet read this and I don't want to fo through it to figure it out because I want to read this later. So if it shouldn't be in here, let me know.  
***** THEY EACH HAVE DIFFERENT CHILDREN *****
shred by tusktooth (22k words) - Has a twist but nor really a twist. I’m just gonna put this in this category.  There were two versions of Isak Valtersen. He was cool, smart snowboarder guy. The real Isak, was also trans, gay, and a father. Keeping the two Isaks separate wasn’t that difficult. At least, not until he saw Even again. 
***** ONLY ONE OF THEM IS A PARENT *****
Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES. 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination. 
a lullaby for you by noirophelia (2.2k words) - Isak has a wonderful little daughter. Even is her wonderful teacher. 
Better With You by iriswests (5.8k words) - Isak and Even don't know what they'd do without the other. Eventually, they realize they don't really need to find out.. Single dad Even. Vet Isak. 
(WIP) carrying our dreams and all that they mean (trying to make it all worthwhile) byodair_goes_my_sanity (8.4k words) - We’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks and holy shit it turned out you’re my kids teacher oh god this embarrassing! 
Universe At Its Finest by Skamtrash (8.6k words) - The universe brings Even into Isaks life, he just didn't know Even came with a full package. A kid fic with 90% pure fluff. 
The Little Flower Named Dahlia by Bellakitse (18k words) - Single!Dad Isak + Preschool teacher Even and the little girl that brings them together. Adorable fic. 
(WIP) Draw a Family by Isakprettykitty (21k words) - Isak, a single parent, takes his 5 year old son to preschool for the first time. Before Isak adopted Magne, his biologic parents weren't treating Magne as they should and some of the scars still haven't healed. Magne's teacher is no other than Even bech næsheim, who makes it his goal to help Magne out with his social anxiety. As time passes, Even and Isak grow closer and the younger one finally learns that it is okay to depend on other people. 
Lovesick by Sabeley (SERIES. 2 fics) - Even is absolutely not making up excuses to take his daughter to see the hot new pediatrician. 5 times Even's daughter wasn't actually sick and 1 time she was. 
take me as i am-universe by argentae (SERIES. 3 fics) - He isn’t crushing, and nevertheless this guy has become a Problem, because whenever he’s on shift he’s made it increasingly difficult for Isak to really spend his time productively. Sure, he could just find another place to study but he likes the access to coffee here even though he actually kind of hates the bitterness of it and he’s just not going to let himself get swept aside because of this guy. Parent!Even. 
We are our Choices by recklesslee (40k words) - Even is informed that one decision he made on a lonely night months ago has led to a new bump in the road. Now Even has another choice to make, and that just might change his life for the better. Doctor!Isak. 
Emmy by NeonViolet (48k words) - Isak is 25 and working in marine biology. Sana is his best friend. He has a 7 year old. And her new school principal looks familiar. Adorable! 
waiting outside ('til you're ready to go) by mellowellom (52k words) - An AU where Isak's daughter is an actual little devil that he can't control for the life of him, and his neighbour Even offers a helping hand. 
we've made it this far, kid by everythingislove (straykid) (SERIES. 2 fics) - Technically, Isak is an uncle. The one where Isak is just trying to raise his nephew as best he can with the help of his best friends. He doesn't expect to fall for Felix's gorgeous football coach along the way. 
(WIP) The Daughter by Laika_the_husband  (10k words) - A sequel. So spoilers. Even’s daughter appear in the previous fics but not as much. Continues from the series, A Dove, a Snake, a Ghost and a Madman. And what an excellent series this is. 
Quitting You by Laika_the_husband (65k words) - A sequel. So spoilers. From the series, Because of You I'm Nothing, I'm Nowhere. Isak Valtersen is a happy stay-at-home dad of his baby girl, taking care of his new home in Belgium. His peaceful life as a domestic god gets turned upside down, when his deeply buried desires are suddenly forced to resurface. It is simple enough to find someone on Grindr, but when that someone is painfully familiar, things can get complicated. Another excellent series. 
I Can Hardly Breathe by Flatfootmonster (82k words) - This fic, man. Isak gets hired to be the nanny? for Even and Sonja’s kids. This fic is just absolutely amazing. 
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ibijau · 4 years ago
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chap 2 of the modern xisangyao, also on AO3
Against his better judgement, Meng Yao finds himself quite charmed by the too handsome researcher who wants to meet his employer
Mister Shanzi will be unhappy when he discovers that Meng Yao has agreed to meet with a researcher without first consulting him, but he is simply too curious. It is so odd for anyone to be so interested in that obscure painter, and so desperate to see more of his work. Of course, Mister Shanzi himself holds a clear interest in Nie Huaisang, one that he has unwillingly transmitted to Meng Yao… But mister Shanzi is an odd man, and ordinary people cannot be compared to him. 
For this reason, Meng Yao's first instinct upon being contacted by Lan Xichen had been suspicion. Mister Shanzi has his enemies, as Meng Yao knows well, and they try to act clever sometimes. 
His second instinct, after a quick internet search, had been amusement. Surely nobody expected him to believe that this man, handsome enough to play the lead in a drama, was a mere university teacher. 
A more thorough search had confirmed it though. Meng Yao knew enough about running a con to spot modified photos and fake credentials, and he had found none of that. Digging further, Lan Xichen appeared in the background of photos and was referenced here and there on relatives' social media, with no incoherence to the presentation he'd given in his email. 
So Meng Yao had found himself intrigued, and offered to meet and chat. 
A decision he half regrets now, because somehow, Lan Xichen is even more handsome in person. He is, in fact, the single most beautiful person that Meng Yao has seen in his life, easily outranking mister Shanzi who had reigned there supreme since the day Meng Yao met him during a con gone wrong. 
"I am so glad you offered to meet me," Lan Xichen says with a warm smile. "I am really sorry that I was so insistent, but it is so rare for several of Nie Huaisang’s works to be in a single place."
“I understand,” Meng Yao replies, trying to match the warmth of that smile when he can’t help being a little dazzled by that handsome stranger. “Though at the moment, my employer is a little wary of showing any of those paintings in his possession until he has inspected them all again. It is very embarrassing that several fakes fooled him, and mister Shanzi wants to restore his reputation. He is still getting used to modern technology, and how much it has changed the art market in recent decades.”
Mostly, mister Shanzi complains a lot on the matter, and keeps saying he’s going to have to change career soon. Apparently, back in the days, it was much easier to sell a decent fake as long as you also sold enough real things. But now with age testing of the paper and analysis of the ink, it’s nearly impossible to do a good enough job.
Of course mister Shanzi could quite easily make as much money only selling legitimate art, he has the connections, the collection, and impeccable taste. So Meng Yao suspects it’s not just about money, and more about the twisted joy of deceiving others. He can't fault him for that.
“Yes, that makes sense,” Lan Xichen sighs. “I was fooled as well, so I understand the feeling. It’s so disappointing, but not unexpected. Nie Huaisang attracts forgers like no other artists.”
Meng Yao nods sympathetically. He’s heard mister Shanzi boast that well over half of Nie Huaisang’s paintings in circulation are copies he made himself, and perfectly undetectable unless one runs those ‘damn new tests’ on them.
“If I may be so bold, why the interest in that particular painter?” Meng Yao asks. “Surely you could have found someone less complicated to study.”
Rather than to answer immediately, Lan Xichen considers the question. He takes a sip of tea with more elegance than this café deserves, and Meng Yao is struck once more with the idea that this man should be acting in drama, not writing essays nobody will ever read. It’s easy to imagine Lan Xichen playing the role of a noble prince, or even a god. 
“He’s just a fascinating character I suppose,” Lan Xichen says at last. “Outside of his art, we know so little about him. We don’t even know his real name.”
“What?”
Lan Xichen smiles, clearly very pleased to have gotten that reaction.
“He wasn’t born Nie Huaisang,” he explains. “That’s only his courtesy name. You see, he belonged to that… well, they called themselves a sect, though at the end of the day they were closer to nobility, with the same inheritance problems and power struggles. Still, Qinghe Nie held a number of beliefs, and one of them was that the birth name of its members had to be kept a complete secret… and Nie Huaisang is among those who succeeded at obeying that rule. So we don’t know his name, we don’t know his date of birth, and we don’t know how he died or when.”
“Is there anything that is known about him?” Meng Yao teases, more endeared and intrigued than he would care to admit.
Lan Xichen must notice, because he smiles again, as if delighted to have found someone willing to listen to his impromptu lecture.
“We know he was raised by his brother because their father died when they were young,” Lan Xichen says. “Well, half-brother. Nie Huaisang was the child of a concubine, or even of a servant. His father recognised him, but his legitimacy was called in question a few times. We know he survived a local insurrection nicknamed the Sunshot Campaign, though it’s unclear if he was old enough to have taken part in any fighting. His brother did though, with great success, but died without heirs a few years later and Nie Huaisang found himself in charge of a fief.”
He pauses there, his expression turning sadder, as if he were talking of a personal friend rather than a long dead man. Meng Yao finds it ridiculous and a little endearing.
“A few anecdotes from the lives of contemporaries tell us that he must have had a rough time at first,” Lan Xichen continues, “and he was suspected for a while of being implicated in the murder of the head of the Jin clan, but nothing ever came out of that. He’s just thirty at that point, still fairly young, and he lives on for another fifty, maybe sixty years… and we don’t know anything about what he does during that time. Nobody really talks about Qinghe Nie again until his successor rises to power and brings the clan back into the political sphere. Nie Huaisang’s life is a mystery. What little we think we know comes from the few poems he left, and whatever clues we can gather from his numerous paintings. Isn’t that fascinating?”
What’s fascinating, Meng Yao thinks, is the way Lan Xichen’s eyes light up when talking about something he’s passionate about. If it’s an act, then it’s an excellent one… but Meng Yao finds himself hoping that it’s sincere, that Lan Xichen really is just an odd man who is apparently half in love with a painter who died a millennium and a half ago.
There is no way that mister Shanzi would ever let anyone see his private collection. Even Meng Yao is barely allowed to go to his employer’s house, to avoid attracting attention to the place. Lan Xichen’s request is never going to be granted.
But it has been a long while since Meng Yao has been so intrigued by someone, not since first meeting mister Shanzi in fact. And mister Shanzi, in spite of the mutual attraction that Meng Yao knows to be there, has made it quite clear that he isn’t interested in anything but a professional relationship. Meng Yao has satisfied himself with that so far, because his life really is pretty good as it currently is, but Lan Xichen changes that. Surely there’s no harm in pretending that there’s a chance he might get to see the painting, at least until Meng Yao can decide if that too handsome man is trustworthy or not, dateworthy or not…
“It does sound interesting,” Meng Yao admits. “I’m sure mister Shanzi would…”
His phone starts vibrating, interrupting him. Meng Yao can’t help a slight frown, which turns to a deeper one when he sees the message he’s just received.
“Well, I have to go,” he sighs. “I’m really sorry. But… mister Lan, if I may be so bold, would you agree to exchanging numbers? That way we can continue talking about this more easily.”
“Yes, of course,” Lan Xichen replies. There is a trace of pink on his cheeks as he takes out his own phone, which Meng Yao finds both very fetching and rather encouraging.
He’ll have to be careful, this could be a trap, Lan Xichen might be an excellent actor, part of a team skilled enough to have fooled Meng Yao, but… but he might not be, too, and it would be a shame to miss this chance.
After having exchanged numbers and promised to be in touch soon, Meng Yao quickly heads home. He lives on the edges of the city, in a building that already looked ancient when he was a kid. Today’s a good day, because the lift is, in fact, actually working for once.
Upon getting to his floor, Meng Yao goes to knock on the door next to his. It opens nearly immediately.
“Meng Yao, you’re saving my life,” the young woman who lives there greets him. “I’m really sorry, I’ve tried everyone else, but I’ve been called in for an extra shift and I need the money so bad, I’ve had to buy her new shoes this month, and…”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”
His neighbour thanks him again, and rushes inside. She’s back quickly, her daughter in her arms. The child nearly throws herself at Meng Yao, and her mother runs off to work, leaving them alone.
“Well, Beastie, it’s just you and me,” Meng Yao says, walking to his door. “What are we going to do tonight?”
“Watch fighting movies! Eat candies!”
“And what will we tell mama we did?”
“Watch documentaries and eat greens and I went to bed and I was good!” The little girl roars.
Meng Yao laughs, and puts her down while he unlocks his door. Beastie runs inside to check the tv, while Meng Yao makes sure they actually have something to eat. He tries to keep his fridge full and his cabinet fuller, especially since Beastie has become a regular at his place. Her mother is a hard working girl who, like Meng Yao’s mother, got pregnant too young from a man who didn’t stick around. He used to babysit Beastie for extra cash before meeting mister Shanzi, and for some reason he never really stopped, even if he refuses to take money for it now. He just likes Beastie and her mom, and he remembers how much his own mother used to rely on neighbours too, whenever things became rough.
As Beastie and him settle down for the night, ready to watch one of those cheesy, over the top old kung-fu movies that they both love, Meng Yao gets a text from Lan Xichen, thanking him again for meeting him. After only the briefest of hesitations, Meng Yao quickly answers that he’s sorry he had to leave so fast, because he loved chatting with Lan Xichen. This prompts another text from the handsome teacher, to which Meng Yao replies as well.
His phone doesn’t stop buzzing all nigh, and Meng Yao doesn't stop smiling. 
-
In the days and weeks that follow, Meng Yao and Lan Xichen manage to meet in person a few more times, and text nearly constantly. At their second meeting they’re still pretending that this is only about Lan Xichen’s research, but by the third one they start openly chatting about other things.
Lan Xichen is very open about his life, and everything he says fits with what Meng Yao had found during his initial investigation. He has a little brother nearly fifteen years younger than him who lives with him, he enjoys teaching and researching equally, he has a pet rabbit called Liebing he dotes on, he can’t handle spice at all, he has, in fact, been asked more than once if he was interested in a modelling or acting career but always refused because academia is his calling.
Meng Yao is more careful with the information he shares. He admits to having worked for mister Shanzi for nearly five years, but doesn’t elaborate on how they meet because that's not a story for honest people. He confesses he didn’t have any particular interest in art until taking the job, though he has tried to educate himself on the subject since then (Lan Xichen offers to go to a museum together someday, and to his own surprise, Meng Yao agrees). He doesn’t have pets, but he does have Beastie and he’s pretty sure that counts.
The way Lan Xichen’s eyes go soft over that… it does things to Meng Yao’s poor heart.
As does almost everything Lan Xichen does or says, in fact.
Meng Yao is half appalled at himself for how fast he’s falling for Lan Xichen. He tries to resist it, tries to be reasonable, but Lan Xichen just has to smile the right way, and Meng Yao’s heart flutters in his chest. He feels like a teenager with a crush.
He starts thinking like one, too.
Ever since meeting mister Shanzi, Meng Yao has been loyal to his employer. There is something about the man that demands it, and though he has never made threats of any sorts, Meng Yao can feel that mister Shanzi is not a man who takes kindly to betrayal.
And yet, it would be so easy to arrange for Lan Xichen to come to mister Shanzi’s home without his knowledge. Meng Yao is in charge of his employer’s schedule, so he knows where he is at any given time. He also has the keys to that isolated house in the middle of nowhere. It would be so easy, and Meng Yao has never been too good at resisting temptation.
At this point, he knows that if he tells Lan Xichen he won't see the paintings, the other man will be disappointed but will ask if they can keep seeing each other anyway. This isn't about finding a way to keep his attention: Meng Yao knows he has it already. 
It's about Meng Yao guessing how happy Lan Xichen will be to see those paintings, and deciding surely that's worth the risk. 
That’s how Meng Yao and Lan Xichen find themselves in a car one day, heading out of the city together. Meng Yao feels his skin buzzing with nerves, though every time he takes his eyes from the road to glance at Lan Xichen and finds him glowing and as excited as a child, he knows it was the right choice. It takes them a few hours to get to the house, which they spend chatting about a number of things. About midway through the trip, when they take a break, Meng Yao announces that due to a last minute problem, mister Shanzi won’t be able to meet them at the house, but welcomes them to check the paintings without him. Lan Xichen is of course disappointed and offers to try again another time, but Meng Yao convinces him it’s more convenient to go that day.
The house, hidden in a bamboo forest, takes Lan Xichen’s breath away when he discovers it, just as it did for Meng Yao the first time. It’s not particularly big or extravagant, but there’s something about it that makes Meng Yao’s heart ache every time he sees it, as if he’s known it before. It’s ridiculous, of course. He’d never really left the city before starting to work for mister Shanzi.
“It looks like home,” Lan Xichen whispers as he exits the car.
“Does your family have a place like that?”
Lan Xichen frowns, and shakes his head. “No, not at all. But it still feels like home. I can’t explain why… Ah, don’t mind me. Let’s just go inside.”
Meng Yao hides a smile and goes to open the door. In truth, he’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Mister Shanzi has no reason to be back from his trip until tomorrow, but Meng Yao won’t feel safe until they’ve left. It really is stupid to have come here at all, and even Lan Xichen’s happiness is starting to not feel worth the risk.
The house is quiet when they go in, and a little cold, making them shiver. It’s always fresh in there, which Meng Yao assumes is why mister Shanzi has taken to calling his home the Hanshi. 
“It’s not a very welcoming name for a home,” Lan Xichen says as he looks around, sounding a little distracted.
“It’s not much of a home anyway. He doesn’t live here most of the time,” Meng Yao explains as they head for the kitchen. “It has his private collection, a few personal belongings, and that’s it. He prefers to stay with friends or at hotels if he can. Check the fridge and you’ll see how bad it is.”
While Meng Yao pours himself a glass of water, Lan Xichen does check the fridge, and finds it predictably empty except for some forgotten leftovers. Sometimes, Meng Yao suspects that mister Shanzi doesn’t eat at all unless he has company.
After taking a moment to rest from the long trip, Meng Yao takes Lan Xichen toward the workshop in the basement, where he knows his employer usually keeps the best parts of his collection, fake and authentic paintings carefully divided according to a system he taught to Meng Yao.
It really feels more and more like a betrayal to be doing this, but Lan Xichen is glowing, and mister Shanzi will never know.
Meng Yao starts opening the door.
His blood turns to ice when he realises that there’s light inside the room.
He thinks, for a second, to stop and run away while he can, but it’s too late already. Lan Xichen would ask questions, and he wouldn’t like the answers. It could save him from also dealing with mister Shanzi’s fury at least, but even that won’t be afforded to him. When Meng Yao peaks inside, mister Shanzi’s swivel chair is turning toward the door, with mister Shanzi sitting crossed leg in it and looking curiously at the intruders.
It is painfully obvious that mister Shanzi isn’t expecting visitors. Instead of the polished outfits he favours in public, he’s wearing a pair of novelty boxers with emoji on them, and a hoodie two sizes too big with ink stains on the sleeves. His long hair isn’t in a neat braid, but in a messy bun held in place by some cheap chopsticks. In short, mister Shanzi doesn’t look like the refined young man he endeavours to be when he has to show his face somewhere, and more like a college student who has forgotten the taste of any food except instant noodle and energy drinks.
That impression is only made worse by the headphones he’s now lowering, and the game console on his lap. They must have caught him taking a break.
“Meng Yao, why are you…” mister Shanzi starts asking, unfolding his legs so he can stand up, only to interrupt himself when his gaze falls on Lan Xichen.
His hands start shaking, badly enough that his console falls from his grip and onto the floor, its screen cracking upon impact.
“You!” mister Shanzi gasps, eyes wide with terror.
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theriverpersonshadow · 4 years ago
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Lamia Drama Part 8
WELL THAT GOT LONGER THAN I INTENDED. But I guess that’s what happens when you have a majority of the people in one place XD
I hope this chapter went well... It felt kinda rambly, but it was fun seeing people play off each other. It was hard to get the same level of depth with characters as previous chapters with so many, but hey, interactions are fun too! Hope you guys enjoy.
As always, the species of lamia in this fic belong to @vex-bittys
< PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT >
           Keith and the rest found Alex pretty easily. And a few other lamia that were either allowed free roam or had just slipped out. She didn’t seem to notice the onlookers, more caught up in petting Oozy… who wasn’t technically in his hammock. Maybe it’s best he didn’t make that bet with Hux earlier. Sure, Oozy’s close to the hammock, but Hux would absolutely rules lawyer him and demand snacks because he’s not in the hammock. Hux was a rule stickler… when and only when it helped him in some way. Eh, Keith could roll with it though (even if his dice sometimes couldn’t, but that’s what a DM screen is for).
           Keith was hesitant to break up the cute moment between the two – Oozy was apparently having the time of his life, and Alex seemed pretty wrapped up in it herself, humming some tune or another while stroking him. Keith listened, trying to place it, but…
           She was repeating it, huh? Was that the only part of the song she knew? Then again, it seemed like the good part, whatever it was. Easy enough to pick up too. Keith started humming along.
Hux rolled his eyes, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “great, two of them” and slithered over, “Yo. Girl person. Ya coming or what?”
Alex looked up, “I mean, yeah, I think? Coming where?”
“nooooooooo…” Oozy said, taking her hand and putting it back on his head. “Sorry guys. I’m stealing her. She’s my personal petter now. That’s the rules.”
“Since when?!” Hux said.
Oozy looked a moment, then licked her hand. “I licked her, she’s mine.”
Keith stared at him in shock, not sure whether to laugh or slap him. “Dude.”
Nikolai gave a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Don’t lick party members. Or people in general.”
           “How does that work anyways? You’re a skeleton,” Alex said.
           “Maaaagic,” Keith said, wiggling his fingers in emphasis. “In other words, uh… Monster biology is weird. Or half monster biology. Whatever the fuck we are.”
           Nikolai nodded, “More or less, yes. I can explain it in more detail later, if you’d prefer.” He started coming forward and Alex inched away. Keith hissed before he could catch himself, but Nikolai didn’t seem offended. Instead, he lowered himself in a bow, “And I’d like to apologize for how I acted earlier… I’ll admit I, erm… Overreacted. But we’ve had issues in the past of people coming in to steal babies or eggs, one of the fools tried to snag a mamba egg and got himself killed. I just get a bit jumpy about strangers around them.”
           Alex nodded, relaxing a little, but still staring off at a clock instead of Nikolai. Her hand continued to run across Oozy as she said, “I get it. They’re just little dudes, too freaking small. And some are venomous. Not like you knew me.”
           “Still, I should’ve given you more of a chance or at least asked you politely to leave before turning to threat displays,” Nikolai said.
           “Eh… It was my fault,” Keith said. “I should’ve warned ya I was bringing someone in. Anyways, let’s try this again. Alex, this is Nikolai. He could probably fuck you up, but he’s everyone’s mom.”
           Nikolai made no move to deny it.
           “Hux here is the grumpy snake. He’ll warm up to ya.”
           “No I won’t.”
           Keith rolled his eyes, “He’s just a grump.”
           Hux mumbled to himself.
           “I think you’ve met Oozy pretty well by now.”
           “Sup,” Oozy said, making absolutely zero movement.
           “And, erm… Nikolai, you’ve got Trousle, right.”
           “Hello human! I’m Trousle! Please let me say hi.” Said Trousle’s little speaker. He was poking out from Nikolai’s sleeve, apparently wrapped around his arm.
           “He’s mute, but he’s pretty fast at typing. Got his own phone and everything,” Keith said, watching this girl intently. Apparent soulmate or not, if she was dick about Trousle, she was out of here. She might’ve earned Oozy’s enthusiastic (well… enthusiastic by his standards, dude looked like a kid in a candy store, but the world’s laziest kid) approval, but he wasn’t going to let an asshole mess with the little dude. Hux would warm up, that was more him being a bit of an ass than her, but he’d get over it… probably.
           “Oh that’s cool! Do you have a phone number? Honestly I think my fingers work better than my mouth sometimes, but I guess talking out loud doesn’t really have a backspace key? But yeah! C’mere… Wait, I can hold him, right? Snakes are just, like, noodle puppies.” She paused, looking at everyone in the room. “I’d offer to hold you guys, but I am literally the second smallest person in here. I mean, guess we can try, but I don’t think it’ll go well?”
           Keith snorted. Gosh, she was something, huh? A little awkward, but who wouldn’t be super awkward in this situation?
           Nikolai brought Trousle over and she draped him around her neck. He nuzzled her cheek, giving her little scratches behind the ear.
           … should someone tell him that she’s not a dog?
           …
           Naaaaaaaaaah. She didn’t seem to mind anyways,
           Hux made a fake-gagging gesture at the two and Keith rolled his eyes, whispering at them, “Oh let’em have this. It’s cute.”
           “I’m getting diabetes. Like, right now. They’re just beaming diabetes across the room.”
           “Be nice,” Nikolai said, “It’s not going to kill you to have to actually smile at a human once in a while.”
           “Yes it will. It’s, like, a terminal thing. If I smile at a human, I will instantly turn to dust.”
           No such condition had ever existed and likely never would.
           Keith’s first instinct was to back up Nikolai, but it was almost an in-joke that he’d at least try to defend Hux no matter how clearly in the wrong the guy was. Admittedly, it was as often as not either due to boredom or just feeling bad for the guy…
           It’s not like Hux didn’t have a point – a point that he had iterated in frustrated, sometimes tear-filled tirades at least a few dozen times. He didn’t want to be treated like a pet, he’s allowed to not want to be a pet. Sure, not every adopter is like that. Some might’ve been looking for pets, yeah, but just as many want a kid or a friend, especially with full sized lamia. It could be more or less just like adopting any other monster, save for needing a good deal more raw meat. But Hux didn’t see it that way… Not that Keith ever blamed him. There wasn’t a huge market for full-sized Corals, their reputation as being stubborn, a bit lazy, and tsundere as hell was cute in something you could pick up and snuggle as it chirped indignantly and secretly enjoyed it – like an extra intelligent, reptilian cat – but less so when it was just as big as you and probably stronger. Everyone wanted a housecat, no one wanted a mountain lion. Or those that did need something to growl and hiss would probably pick Kings or Mambas.
           Nikolai gave a long-suffering sigh, “You will not turn to dust if you’re forced to be nice every now and then.”
           “Yeah I will. It’ll, like, strangle my soul or some shit. Keith, back me up here. Tell ‘im.”
           Nikolai had the distinct impression of a haggard mom trying to reason with an unruly kid. He just looked so done. Dude could handle customers, angry mamba moms, being a jungle gym for babies, and training employees who may or may not have believed he knew he what he was doing, but Hux was his breaking point.
           Keith stifled a chuckle, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his mind worked over what to do… He didn’t want to just abandon Hux – Nikolai would know it was just him being a loyal bro – but Alex wouldn’t. She might not’ve been looking at them, but he caught the way she kept glancing over…
           “Welp, ya heard him. He’s sick. I prescribe ten CC’s of coffee with extra sugar and bribery with shiny objects.”
           Hux’s head popped up, body at attention. “I’m listening… How many shiny objects are we talking.”
           “… we’re not bribing him.”
           “I’ve got extra dice?” Alex said hesitantly. Trousle was looking at her in concern, patting her face. She said, “I mean, I kinda like having all my dice, but I guess I don’t need seven sets… I’m keeping the black ones though, they’re good for fight scenes. And the orange ones, they were my first set ever and are not for sale. Also, the green and purple ones are just a fae vibe, I’m keeping them. They’re just average, but I like them.” Pause. “And the lesbian dice are mine. They won’t like you anyways, you’re a boy.”
           All of them nodded understandingly. You could only play DnD so long and not get irrationally attached to the colorful little click clack rocks of fate.
           “That counts as one shiny object,” Hux said.
           “There are seven in each set!” Pause. “Well, more or less. I’ve lost some over the years.”
           “You’ve got a point… More dice for the dice dragon! Mwahahahah!” Hux said, hamming it up.
           Keith’s mouth twitched into a grin as he shook his head at the goof. How was he this cute? Just… goober. His friend is a total goof sometimes.
           “Can I try the lesbian dice?” Trousle asked, holding himself at an awkward position to type.
           “I… I guess? Just give them back after…” Alex said. She ran a finger across Trousle’s head, smiling as he let out little breathy attempts to “Nyeh.”
           “Why are they lesbians anyways? Do they only work for girls?” Nikolai said.
           “Here, lemme show you.” She unzipped one of the pouches on her bag and brought out a baggy full of dice that were lesbian flag colored. “My friend got them for me for Christmas.”
           “That’s amazing. I want twelve,” Keith said.
           “You’re not a lesbian… or a girl! I think… I mean, if there’s something you want to tell us, that’s fine, but I was under the impression you weren’t even interested in relationships,” Nikolai said.
           “Maybe I could get, like… Dice that are for people who are just no.”
           “Ace and aro. Probably,” Alex said.
           “Oh cool. Words for it. Nice!”
           “Give me words for friends with everyone! I want a flag too!”
           “I… I don’t know if there’s a flag for that? Maybe we could put a dog on a flag? It’d be hard to make dice with dogs on them though,” Alex said.
           “Ya could put a little dog face on every side and interpret the roll based on how much they’re a Good Boy,” Keith said.
           “That would only roll Nat 20’s,” Alex said, deadpan.
           “… good point. It could be the luckiest dice,” Keith said, grinning.
           “I AM THE GOODEST BOY. Give me dog dice.” Trousle said, tucking the phone away to throw his little fists in the air, a gleam in his eye as he sat on Alex’s head.
           Keith laughed. “Oh my gosh. I mean, that sounds adorable, but, uh… I think that miiiiight be a little too game breaking, even for me.”
           “Give me dog dice.” He slithered back down to around Alex’s neck, holding himself out towards Keith the best he could and giving some mix between a glare and a pout.
           “Trousle no.”
           “Trousle YES,” Alex said.
           Troulse nodded enthusiastically, bouncing in place so hard that he fell off and Alex yelped as she caught him.
“Are you alright?!”
           Trousle gave a thumbs up, coiling around her arm.
           Oozy had apparently fallen asleep on the floor, so Hux poked him with a stick, making Oozy whine. “Soooooo… Are we gonna get Glitterass, or are we just shadow banning him from this? I mean, I wouldn’t say no if we are…”
           “We should probably go get him, yeah,” Keith said. “Ya ready Alex? Liam’s a mamba, and one of his eyes don’t work. Try to stay on his good side, literally. Metaphorically too if you want, but he doesn’t like having people where he can’t see or hear them well.” Not that anyone would like that, just courtesy really, but maybe not something you’d think of immediately.
           Alex nodded, “Alright, let’s go!”
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almostperfectshark · 3 years ago
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Well Guys,
Where do i even begin to start... My life has been hectic, wild, and absolutely crazy these last few years. I dropped everything I had in Michigan at 18 years old and moved to Montana for a guy who i actually happened to meet on this website. Tumblr... Who knew right? I’m sure there’s probably a lot of you that have found love out their on this website and if your happy I’m happy glad it worked out for ya but sadly it didn’t for me. You know that feeling when you meet someone online who you instantly vibe with and have conversations with and it feels like you’ve known each other for years?? That’s the kind of feeling I had when I met this person. I won’t drop his name because to this day he continues to “stalk” me. He manages to find all my social media platforms no matter how many different emails I used he finds all of them.. I of course skyped him and made sure he was who he said he was or so I thought.. He was real physically but emotionally he was completely different if that makes sense. We talked for hours upon hours day and night every spare second we had so I ended up moving to Montana and I’m a Michigan gal so that is quite a distance. I left everything I had behind my family, my friends my college I was enrolled in and about to start, my drivers license ,EVERYTHING. Prior to me flying out to Montana he talked about a poly relationship and I have been in a poly relationship in the past so I was thinking about giving the okay but didn’t give the okay to him yet. Not only does he show up with two random strangers I’ve never seen before or knew their names wouldn’t you want to pick up your partner alone and not with two people she doesn’t know? Well we get in the truck after I grab my bags and of course I’m wanting my first kiss with him but it’s kind of awkward to share that moment in front of some strangers ya know? So we get to the house and I can’t stand it anymore so I finally lean in and kiss him and look behind me to hear them say “Don’t stop because of us” that was a little weird. We go inside and his mom is still awake poor thing ( I honestly miss her so fucking much) she introduces herself and hugs me and welcomes me. We go into his room in the basement and do our thing the next day goes by and I start to become good friends with we’ll call her Sara so we get on the topic of the best sex we’ve ever had and she tells me the best sex she ever had was with my bf and he tries to deny it and I threaten to go back home since I haven’t even been there for two fucking days he begs me not to so I decide to invite Sara over to confront him in front of me and she does and she ends up making him tell the truth he then proceeds to cry hysterically and starts telling me he doesn’t want to lose me and ends up punching a wall in rage and probably self disappointment they leave and I decide to forgive him even though this happened the day before i got on the plane. I was already half way across the map and wasn’t willing to give up and make a fool of myself for some guy I met online. He changed for a little bit before I moved out there he was a manager at Sonic but when I showed up he wasn’t working anymore so I took on the reigns at that point of bringing in an income. At first I started at a sporting goods store and I loved it I miss that place so much it was such a cool and rad place sadly it closed down because we were a sister store and we weren’t bringing in enough income to their liking. From there I moved on to a organic grocery store and that place was boujie as all hell, at first I thought they were all nice people but lord does that change It’s kind of funny and sad at the same time how much people can change within a matter of seconds. Most of the items in that store didn’t have barcodes to scan you had to remember individual numbers for every damn thing every piece of candy,nuts,fruits,veggies. There was a girl who came in every single day who helped get me the job she worked in the medication department super sweet girl actually named Sara lol but not the same sara as above. She would come in every single day crying this woman would bust her ass at this place and she was a manager and never got a higher recognition for any of the shit she did ever they literally treated her like garbage. She was the only one who would help me with any questions I had unlike my other manager who thought she was all that and a bag of chips. She was from the U.K. her name was Fran this woman was a fucking bitch one of the most two faced people I have ever met in my life. This woman would literally have her cashiers me or the other closers ring up a bunch of groceries for her and put them in bags and then she would carry them to her car and told us she would pay for them the next day well guess what she never paid for them and she continued to do this for days so I started asking the other cashiers who she had do it as well and they said that she checks herself out... that seems a little fishy why don’t you trust us doing it? Do you go back and delete items? I think she started to catch on because this woman threw me under the bus every single chance she got about me not wiping my belt down which I did and how I didn’t wipe down all the bins down good enough. She found every excuse to write my ass up and I got tired of it I was tired of coming home and crying everyday. So I called in and quit. My partner at the time had a couple disability’s but nothing that prevented him from working he claimed he filed for disability but alas never did even after 5 years. At that point guys I was fucking numb my heart sank to my chest every fucking feeling I ever had for this man was starting to deteriorate and fast. I didn’t find this out until after we got married. Yes married.. trust me I know I should’ve known better I should’ve thought twice but he was my first love and trust me I have learned my lesson. He also loved pills anything that could get him high he would take pills, shrooms, acid, he’s tried a couple questionable things. This guy was so addicted.. I just wanted to feel numb I wanted to get out I caught him talking to other women multiple times I wasn’t perfect either and two wrongs don’t make a right but I never physically was intimate with anybody. He got me hooked on pain killers bad we would do them everyday together and that’s the only thing that kept me going from the emotional abuse and the fucking trauma it’s inflicted on my mental health.  Thankfully I’m a little over a year sober. The most shocking thing that has ever happened to me in that marriage and the point to where I felt like I was shit on the bottom of his shoe was when we needed help bringing in an income so we made an ad looking for a roommate. Big mistake, We found someone almost immediately my partner and I are attracted to both sexes this guy wanted to grab dinner with him and meet him in person. I was never invited and I told him I wasn’t comfortable with it because the messages this guy was sending him were very very flirtatious. He ends up taking his friend Jesse with him he goes to the bar and comes back quite fucked up along with the guy to check out the room who happens to keep rubbing on my fiancee at the time. I was not liking this shit at all so I started screaming at him to get the fuck out of my house since I’m the one who pays all of the bills and mind you we also have other roommates upstairs who are absolutely amazing. What does my fiancee do at this point? He locks me in our fucking bedroom my roommate comes downstairs and asks where I am and finally gets this guy to leave. We eventually got our own place because I thought that would help again nope it was only a couple streets down from his moms house too. My family finally after years decided to visit me and it was a flight or fight instinct and I was done. Packed what I could in a backpack told him I was going back to visit with my family and kissed my dogs one last time and when we were almost to Michigan I told him I was done. Please don’t give me any shit about the way I left I honestly didn’t have any other choice I was out of chances I was out of efforts I was drained. He continued with the “I’m going to kill myself if you don’t come back” how it’s going to be on my hands he even went as far to send me photos of blood all over a back seat of a car that looked like a murder scene he found on google. I deactivated his phone and he still tried to contact me through email etc. We are currently going through a divorce and I pray to god he signs those papers and lets me move on. If you read this I appreciate you so much and thank you for taking the time to read this I have many more stories to go if you’re interested about anything else. My current partner, my family, my life now anything and I will write about it. Thank you again.
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