#I usually just follow my muse because this is all for fun and stress relief but

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I have too many WIPs good grief 😅

[mc-lukanette]

*crawls over completely exhausted* No Canon Lukanette... Need fluff... maybe salt too...

Luka gave Marinette's parents a smile as he waited for Marinette to come downstairs, though to say he was concerned was an understatement. He and Marinette hadn't been dating for long, but he knew something was wrong due to her song singing even more stress-filled notes than usual. He wanted to talk to her about it, but also wanted her to open up to him herself when she was ready.

Wanting to focus on smiling for her when she came down, Luka shook off the thought and stared up at Marinette's trap door. Seeing that she hadn't come down yet - understandable given that she had no idea he was there - he pulled out his phone and navigated to her contact. However, just before he could tap on it, there was an abrupt, loud, and unusual noise coming from Marinette's room, followed by the sound of Marinette yelping and presumably hitting the floor.

Luka gasped. “Marinette!”

Not even thinking, he hurried upstairs, phone clutched tightly in his hand as he pushed the trap door up and let himself in.

Over a dozen tiny kwami were speeding around her room, each with distinct voices and one of whom he recognized as Sass. He'd initially thought that the Liberty was chaos, and it was, but there was something different about fifteen little melodies all moving around simultaneously and wreaking havoc. They hadn't even seemed to notice that he was there.

There was also a ladybug-patterned ellipsoid lying on the table in the middle of it all, though Luka's eyes fixated mostly on Marinette lying there on the floor, now staring at him with wide eyes as he took in the whole situation.

"L-luka!" she greeted, voice forced. "W-what a surprise! I mean, you must be surprised at my toy collection! See, there's—there’s this magnetism thing going on that lets them seem like they're flying and—"

She was cut off as one of the kwami accidentally dropped something to the floor, making her flinch from the loud noise. Even the sound all around the room was overwhelming, the little beings ignoring Marinette’s panic in favor of playing with her things.

That's when the tears started, subtly at first until Marinette let out a whimper.

Ignoring all the revelations he just went through, Luka hurried to Marinette's side, helping her up and checking her for injuries. "Marinette, are you okay—"

"You know!" she cut in, running her fingers anxiously through her hair. "You're not supposed to know!"

He took a breath, recognizing that he was going to have to deal with these revelations now. "It's okay. I promise, I'd never—"

"No, it's not okay!" she argued, throwing her hands out. "I've been guardian for just a few days and this—this isn't—! I already—and now the kwami are out—!" She slumped and dropped her gaze to the floor, ashamed. "I'm a bad guardian. I'm a bad girlfriend. I couldn't protect you from knowing!"

"Marinette, you're not a bad girlfriend. You—" He paused, something occurring to him. "Protect me...?"

He hadn't been Viperion for long, but Luka remembered the importance given to secret identities. He understood that it was a form of protecting oneself and one's loved ones, meaning that a permanent hero like Ladybug needed to keep hers a secret the most.

"Is..." His stomach twisted in knots as he remembered all the dates she'd had to either miss or postpone. He bent down, trying to look at her face, and when he still couldn't, he gently cupped her face and encouraged her to make eye contact with him. "Is that why—"

"Yes! That's why I have to keep cutting our dates short, and not being there for you, and not going on patrols with Chat, and why I haven't had time to take those stupid Adrien pictures down! I can't do anything right!"

At some point, the volume of her voice had finally drawn the attention of the kwami, who all stared at her like children watching their parent having a breakdown and feeling awkward about it. Luka paid them no mind, his heart breaking as he processed all the information Marinette was telling him while all he could do was pull her into a hug and just hold her.

"I'm sorry I found out like this," he admitted, running his hand up and down along her back. "I'm glad that I know but I would've wanted you to share that secret with me instead."

"I-I'm sor—"

"Please don't apologize, Marinette," he gently begged. "I hate hearing songs with meanings I don't agree with. You don't have anything to feel sorry for. If I had the ladybug earrings instead, I would've had to do the same thing as you, and you wouldn't have asked me to apologize, would you?"

She looked up at him, expression pained and full of so many burdens that he couldn't believe he hadn't seen before. He brushed her fringe aside and rested his palm against her forehead, concerned about how pale she seemed and worried that she'd stress herself to a cold.

She leaned into his touch, then further until he was forced to move his hand away. She buried her face in his chest, surprising him as she hugged him tightly. Her song turned from the harsh wail of an electric guitar to the mellow tones of an acoustic, and he sighed in a mixture of relief and happiness.

"...Luka," she murmured, lightly clutching whatever fabric she could reach. "The movie. We'll miss it at this rate."

He hummed, half in response to what she said and half in content. "You're so much more important than the movie."

His heart skipped a beat when she actually giggled, her grip on him loosening and the hug turning to something she did because she wanted to, not for comfort. "More important than Jagged Stone?"

He chuckled, burying his face into her hair as he returned the hug. "Always. Even my idol can't compete with my muse."

She leaned further into him, her melody picking up hints off a bell chiming happily. She almost knocked him over from how much of her weight she was putting on him, but he didn't protest and even enjoyed it; it meant she was trusting him with her secrets instead of shouldering the weight herself.

"I know I couldn't have known," he began, "but I'm sorry that our dates took up your time. I never wanted to cause you any stress."

"But I wanted to!" she insisted, jolting up to look at him. "It's just—it's been a lot, and—"

He placed two fingers against her lips before she could start rambling. "Marinette, I don't need to go on normal dates to have fun with you."

She blinked, waiting for him to move his fingers before asking, "Y-you don't?"

He smiled. "Of course not. I can hang out here while you work, while you do important stuff."

With a small, amused snort, she pulled away from him and wiped any stray tears away. "You're 'important stuff.'"

He grinned like the love-struck fool that he was, then shrugged. "Well, I'll still be here anyway then, right?"

"That's true." She paused, glancing off to the side in consideration, then looked back at him as she asked, "in that case... would you help me with something?"

"Anything," he answered immediately.

She pointed, his gaze drawn to her wall full of Adrien pictures. "Like I said, I haven't had the time, and... I've been wanting to remodel forever."

He was more than happy to help, and there was a selfish part of him that considered it far better than any movie they could've seen.

—————

It took a bit more time than either of them anticipated to take down all of the images, but between the two of them, it wasn't a hard job. The biggest time-waster during the whole thing was Marinette's rambling, but Luka welcomed it wholeheartedly.

Due to not watching much TV, he honestly hadn't heard about what'd happened when Jagged Stone had been at the bakery and the camera crew had invaded Marinette's privacy, and he couldn't believe how much mental stress she must've gone through. After all, even though he and Juleka shared a room, there was still a divider for when they needed their privacy, so he wasn't unaware about how personal it was to have one's room recorded without their consent, even if nothing embarrassing got caught on camera.

It seemed cruel to know that Paris' supposedly lucky superhero was perhaps one of the unluckiest people he'd ever known.

Almost on cue, just when the last picture was down and Marinette was debating on what to do with them, her phone went off with a ringtone that sounded very much like danger. Looking over, there was a butterfly symbol flashing on the screen and Marinette's expression faltered at the sight of it.

"Akuma alert," she said flatly, with a pout that would've been cute had he not known what it meant. She hesitated, eyes flicking from him to her phone. "Um... look, I... I have to—"

"Go," he interrupted with a reassuring smile. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'll be here when you're done."

"But—" She frowned and glared at her phone, clearly knowing that she had to leave but not wanting to.

"I mean it, Marinette. It's okay."

She looked at him like she'd never heard those words from anyone else before, eyes vulnerable but fond. She gave him a nod, a brief smile flickering across her face before she turned away and rushed to the stairs. She shouted for her transformation on the way out and Luka watched as her clothes shifted into her ladybug-patterned bodysuit.

When she was completely gone, Luka felt a sudden unsteadiness and leaned against the table for support. It wasn't that he was shocked exactly to hear that Marinette was Ladybug, but he was still overloaded nonetheless.

As his hand rested on the table, he felt the heel of his palm brush something and looked down to see the pile of Adrien pictures next to him. It sent another rush through his body at the reminder that she'd asked him to help her take them down. He was dating her, sure, but he wasn't foolish enough to think that there were no lingering feelings for Adrien. He knew where she stood and he was okay letting her test the waters with him, as she did have feelings for him and who was he to complain if his crush wanted to date him? Besides, he couldn't help wanting to see if maybe it would truly make their bond stronger.

Looking at the wall now, clear of anything but the pink paint, he knew this was real and ended up wishing he'd brought his guitar.

Then, remembering the akuma alert on Marinette's phone, Luka pulled out his own and began to search, eventually finding what she already had: a direct link to watch streams and updates on whatever akuma or sentimonster shenanigans were going on. He knew well enough that he would only give himself anxiety from it, but he wanted to watch his girlfriend in action as a form of support.

Gosh, Ladybug was his girlfriend.

He took a deep breath to steady himself as he watched the footage, his eyes locked to the screen and only shifting when he felt various figures drawing close. He looked up to see that the kwami had all gathered around him, watching the screen closely.

"So..." the pig-looking kwami began, fiddling with their own paws like they knew they were being awkward. "Have you ever wanted to be a hero?"

There was a hiss off to the side, Sass cutting in with, "He already has me."

Luka wasn't feeling up to smile at that, debating with himself before sighing. "Marinette works really hard, and her song is full of sour notes right now," he said. Stepping away and heading for the chaise lounge, he sat down and added, "I hope you can figure out how to rewrite them."

The kwami all exchanged looks, some confused by the metaphor and others who perhaps understood but didn't know how to follow up on it. Luka didn't give them his attention, focusing on the akuma battle playing on his phone.

As he'd expected, it made him a little nervous actually seeing Ladybug in action due to now knowing it was his girlfriend fighting out there. He believed in her abilities and mentally cheered her on, but he just kept remembering all the akuma he'd known about and how stressful it had to have been.

Off to the side, some of the kwami joined forces to help pick up some of the items they'd previously dropped on the floor. It was only after Marinette's room looked as it did before that they properly joined Luka to watch the battle with him.

It was a start.

—————

The battle between Ladybug and the akuma (and Chat Noir was there he supposed) seemed to be getting into its final verse when Luka heard the sound of the trap door being grabbed and clicked open, making him jump. He was only able to whisper a, "Hide," so the kwami could act before Sabine peered inside the room and took a curious look around.

Apparently, they all thought that huddling against his back was a great hiding spot, and he could only smile sheepishly at Sabine while attempting to ignore the weird feeling.

"You're still here?" Sabine asked. "I thought you were going somewhere, and..." She raised a brow, looking around once more. "Where's Marinette?"

"Ah," Luka began, his mind rushing for an excuse, "we actually decided to have our date here instead. Marinette just went up to her balcony to grab something."

It didn't feel good to lie, though he also felt a sense of accomplishment in protecting Marinette's secret. Was this what Marinette dealt with all the time; having to lie to people even if she didn't want to?

Sabine glanced up briefly to where the balcony was, then back to him, slightly confused but rolling with it. "Alright. Do you two need anything?"

"No, ma'am. Thank you though," he replied, hoping it didn't sound forced.

Thankfully, Sabine nodded and left without asking any further questions, the kwami emerging and clinging to Luka while they peered at the now-closed trap door. Luka breathed a sigh of relief, then went back to watching the akuma battle on his phone.

The rest of the fight took a couple minutes, and all that was left to do afterward was wait for Ladybug to return. Once again, Luka wished he had his guitar, making a mental note to get all of his feelings out when he got home, as typical music apps just didn't do anything for him.

An expected "thump" eventually came from the balcony, and the kwami drifting away from Luka as Ladybug descended and landed on her bed. She saw Luka staring at her and initially flinched, but it was clearly a reflex from people seeing her as Ladybug where she shouldn't be, and she hurried down to meet with him afterward. Luka hopped to his feet, not hesitating to meet her halfway and envelop her in a hug, earning a squeak out of her.

"L-luka?"

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just... I got to think about everything you must've gone through without m—" He choked off, suddenly embarrassed, then corrected, "—someone to help you."

She blinked, then giggled and hugged him back. "You're my boyfriend. You're apologizing for hugging me and being worried about sounding selfish?" She nestled her face against his shoulder and he blushed at how warm she was. "Don't. I like it when you're a little selfish, Luka. It grounds me; makes me feel like you're not totally out of my league."

Luka scoffed, nuzzling his head against hers. "You're in a league all your own. I'm literally dating a superhero."

"Trust me, it's not as cool as it sounds."

"I disagree. I think you're really cool."

She blushed profusely. "H-hey..."

He chuckled. "By the way, your mom came to check up on us."

Ladybug gasped, then pulled back, eyes wide and concerned. She was clearly about to apologize, so he cut her off before she could.

"I told her that we were having our date here and that you were getting something from the balcony. Everything's alright."

Her shoulders eased. She let out a sigh of relief as her head fell back against his shoulder. "Thank you."

He hummed contently, resting his hand along her back and keeping it there. Then, realizing when Sabine came up earlier and might do it again, he reminded her, "You're still Ladybug."

"Huh? ...Oh!" she said, though with less panic than normal and unwilling to recoil from the happy spot she was in.

He heard the whisper of her de-transformation phrase and winced as the light engulfed her, slowly turning her back into Marinette. He felt the spandex under his hand turn into fabric and Marinette's breath against his skin as she exhaled.

A kwami that Luka deduced was Marinette's flew a small distance away, eyeing Luka warily and semi-critically. Luka didn't blame her - he wasn't supposed to know - but he also knew that it was far too late to change anything now, and there was no way he was going to abandon Marinette or pretend he knew nothing. He imagined that the kwami knew that too.

"...I'm Tikki," the kwami greeted finally. "It's nice to meet you officially, Luka."

Luka gave her a nod in return, then stiffened somewhat as Marinette squeezed him tighter, burying her face further against him like she truly cherished him.

"It's still a lot," she whispered. "Is it okay if you hug me a little longer?"

"Of course." Though, he paused for a moment before adding, "Would it be more comfortable for you if we move to your chaise?"

"Hm?" She pulled away just enough to look down and realize that they were still awkwardly standing at the bottom of the steps to her bed. "Oh! Yeah, I mean—I didn't even—"

"Hey." He tenderly cupped her cheek, offering a smile. "I didn't complain, did I?"

She looked briefly surprised, making him wonder just how much she'd had to apologize in the past. They slowly made their way over to the chaise lounge, Luka settling down and opening his arms for her so she could settle onto his lap and snuggle against him. He leaned back against the chaise, throwing his legs across the length of it, then wrapped an arm around Marinette to make her feel secure.

"This is nice. It's... um—" She peeked up at him, then grinned shyly. "—melodic? Is that what you'd call it?"

He couldn't stop himself from snorting.

Marinette blushed in embarrassment. "H-hey! I'm trying, okay?"

"I know." He took a strand of her hair in his hand and stroked it. "You always try, and I love that about you."

She let out a series of whines at that, but doesn't protest the compliment either. She nestled against his chest, keeping her face turned away enough to still talk to him without her voice being muffled.

"I just... want to know more about you, Luka," she told him. "You're so sweet and I felt awful having to ditch you. Didn't it bother you?"

He gave a one-armed shrug. "You were busy. I unders—"

"Luka."

He stopped, meeting her firm gaze and knowing that he wasn't getting out of this easily. He sighed, admitting, "...Yeah, it bothered me, but it wasn't because of you or that I didn't trust you. I... see—my dad..." He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that he'd never told anyone this story before. "I never knew who he was. I asked my mom so many times, but she never gave me an answer. Whenever you had to leave and lie to me, I..."

"Oh." She raised herself up more to meet him closer to eye level. "I'm so sorry—wait—sorry, you told me not to apologize—Sorry! I did it agai—ACK!"

He laughed, feeling warm and delighted by how much she cared about him and wanted him to feel secure in their relationship. He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance, wanting to nuzzle her for how cute she was being and just barely able to hold himself back.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you were looking out for me, but you deserve someone to look out for you too."

She pouted a bit at the heartfelt comment, then smiled and raised her hand to settle on his along her shoulder.

He hummed, pausing purposefully for effect before asking, "...So, what does the great guardian Marinette want to do now?"

"Oh my gosh, Luka."

He grinned, happy to compliment her until she was completely red. "How about the brave and heroic Ladybug then?"

"Luka."

He reached up to caress her cheek with his thumb. "But, if you ask me, I like the kind, sincere civilian Marinette best."

"LUKA!"

—————

The rest of their "date" passed by smoothly, Marinette's parents having left them alone so as to not interrupt anything. Marinette had idly brought up the idea that the movie might still be playing - just at a different time than they planned on going - but Luka brushed off the idea and insisted that he was happy there and didn't need to go on a "real" date with her to have fun, opting to leave it up to her.

And... yeah, neither of them were willing to leave their current position and exchange it for having to sit in different seats at a theater with other people around. They opted to just stare at the ceiling and talk, the kwami having respectfully retreated to Marinette's bed to give them privacy.

Talks of their past meetings and when she left to become Ladybug soon turned into a game of finishing Jagged Stone lyrics. Luka, either by being the bigger fan or just having an easier time remembering them, ended up winning in the end, though he couldn't have expected Marinette to follow up by immediately leaving his lap. He'd held back a whine at the sudden lack of warmth and wondered if maybe she'd been teasing him with some sort of punishment by going away.

But then she'd returned with a tiny pink gift box, and inside was a guitar pick necklace signed by Jagged Stone himself.

"He came into the bakery the other day and I had him sign it for you," she explained. Taking it out to fully present it to him, she asked, "Do...do you like it?"

"I love it, Marinette," he replied immediately, reaching out to feel the guitar pick and properly appreciate it. "I can have this?"

She smiled in response, holding the necklace out in a gesture that made his heart skip a beat, realizing that she was offering to put it on him herself. He leaned close, feeling the light brush of her fingers against his neck as she slipped it onto him. He silently hoped that it was durable because he was absolutely never taking it off.

Marinette's hands lingered on the string even when the necklace was fully on, Luka meeting her gaze to see that she was looking at him with all the love he'd ever dreamed of her offering him. He didn't say a word and neither did she, but with a light tug on his necklace, he was pulled towards her into a kiss. It was definitely too deep for their first but also so nice that neither of them cared, and not even the Ladybug revelation could outmatch his surprise at being so readily smooched.

Luka reached for the hand grabbing his necklace, Marinette letting go of it so they could thread their fingers together. His song was going crazy as she leaned forward, clearly wanting more from him and him being wonderfully helpless to resist her. He breathed her in, his other hand finding its place on her side. Her own hand rose up so her fingers could settle against the back of his neck, and he couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed by the sound he made when she started playing with his hair.

She didn't even pull away when their kiss broke, merely pressing her forehead to his while they each caught their breath. Despite the boldness she'd just displayed, she somehow couldn't maintain eye contact and ended up looking elsewhere while all he could do was stare at her in a daze.

"S-sor—" She paused, remembering again that he told her not to apologize. "I-I mean, I'm... not sorry? I—ah—remembered you saying that music is simpler than words, so I just—I thought that maybe I shouldn't ask you with words and just... play it instead?" Luka could feel the heat radiating from her blush as she hurriedly added, "Um... is that okay?"

He answered her with another kiss.

[yamag00ps]

Tsukishima: 6, You: 5

pairing: tsukishima x reader

genre: friends to lovers, work relationship

contains: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: Being friends with Tsukishima Kei was essentially just a competition of who could get the last word.

a/n: this was really fun to write!!!! now where are my bitches who love the i hate everyone but you trope <3<3<3 enjoy :-)

"This idea was yours, you know?"

A voice spoke up behind you as you looked into the updated exhibit. You couldn't quite read his tone. You looked over your shoulder to see Tsukishima Kei standing behind you, playing with the cuffs of his button-up. You turned back to the exhibit before answering.

"Ah. You see, I was starting to think I just manifested it into existence."

"Yeah, I kept hearing this nagging voice in the back of my head for the past two weeks. Funny, you sound just like it."

The offended look on your face disappeared as he walked up next to you with a small smile on his face.

A month ago, you started your new job as a new tour guide at the local history museum. Tsukishima was one of the exhibit designers. Although you were only a tour guide, you were always vocal about your opinions on the displays and layouts of the different exhibits to your co-workers, hoping to work your way up to his position. Tsukishima would overhear these conversations and initially be irritated until he realized that your critiques were actually quite useful. You began to notice your own suggestions coming to life in the exhibits. On this particularly slow day at the museum, Tsukishima surprisingly sparked a conversation with you first.

"Tsukishima Kei. Exhibit designer." He held a hand out to you with a glint in his eyes. You bit back a smile and shook his hand.

"L/N, F/N. Tour guide. Future exhibit designer." His eyebrows raised in amusement.

Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 1

This was only the start of your unique friendship with Tsukishima Kei.

The next six months consisted of many exchanges of ideas, lingering gazes across exhibits, late nights at the museum, and constant banter. It was always a competition of who could get the last word.

Despite your love-hate relationship, you were very supportive of one another. Tsukishima would honestly ask for your input when drafting layouts and frequently joined visitors on your tours. During the tours, he pretended to hate whenever you would call him out in the crowd for designing a certain exhibit (he would never tell you, but he appreciated it every time).

"This particular exhibit was actually designed by that tall, handsome man in the back, Mr. Tsukishima Kei! If you have any questions I'm sure he'd love to answer them." You winked at him every time.

Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 2

He stated that he only joined your tours because he wanted to hear what visitors had to say about his work, which was partly true. But, even more than that, he enjoyed adored watching you in action. He found your passion and enthusiasm endearing and calming, especially on stressful days. The two of you grew close as you worked—always taking breaks at the same time and staying after to leave together. Despite the teasing and the banter, both of you cherished this unique friendship dearly.

As the time passed, it seemed that your hard work and ideas did not go unnoticed, as you were finally offered an exhibit designer position! The director called you in early that morning to meet with you and formally offer you the promotion. As you walked out of her office, your hands were already fumbling to call the only person that came to mind.

"Hello?"

“Morning! You’re late.”

“My train was delayed. Wait, don’t you have the night shift?”  

"I, uh, lost my tour guide position.” Tsukishima stopped in his tracks.

“..What?”

“Yeah, kinda bummed. I was pretty good at it, don’t you think?”

He couldn’t understand your tone. He wouldn’t admit it, but he hoped you’d be at least a little more upset that you wouldn’t be working together anymore.

“Y-yeah. Wait. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Time for me to move on to better things, you know?” Ouch.

“But-”

“Hey, Kei? Exhibit designer to exhibit designer, are we supposed to be rivals now?" He could practically hear the smile on your face.

Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 3

At that exact moment, Tsukishima walked through the entrance of the building. Your eyes met and he hoped you didn’t notice the wave of relief washing over him.

“You’re an idiot,” he stood at the entrance, still talking to you on the phone.

“I believe the correct term is exhibit designer,” you mused.

"Oh god, no.." he groaned, slowly walking up to you with a smirk on his face. “Oh, yes,” you fired back. Unable to contain your excitement any longer, you hung up the phone and ran to him, stopping in front of him abruptly. He cocked a brow, waiting for you to explain as you held your hands behind your back.

"Sooooo.. I guess the director liked my ideas and..um, you know. Thought I’d be a fantastic fit or something," you shrugged nonchalantly, "You know, no biggie, it's whatever." Your efforts to hide the giddy smile on your face were useless. His smile mirrored yours, growing bigger and bigger with every word you spoke. You raised your eyebrows, awaiting his reaction.

He shook his head and marveled at you. I always want to see you this happy, he thought.

Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 4

He stayed silent, wanting to see how long it would take for you to start pouting. He lived to drag reactions out of you. But this time, the look on his face ratted him out. His eyes softened as he took you in. Ever since the day you met, he found that this happened often. The walls he built to shut people out were no match for the sound of your voice, the feel of your head on his shoulder, or the endearing smile on your face whenever your eyes met his from across the room. He was putty in your hands and you didn’t even know it.

"Well?" You poked his chest, becoming impatient. He chuckled and grabbed your hands, pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried you into his chest.

"You loser. You're amazing,” he sighed and rested his chin on the top of your head. “I mean, I’m not surprised. But I'm really proud of you.” He paused. “But don’t scare me like that,” he mumbled. Your heart warmed at his sincerity.

"Aw, Kei, you're hugging me,” you cooed and held him tighter. You tried to move back to look up at him only for him to push your head back into his chest.

"Yeah, I just don't want to see your face when I'm saying nice things to you.”

"Tsk," you swatted at his arm but snuggled into him anyway. “You know what? I’ll take it. Thank you, Kei.” He kept an arm hooked around you and used his free hand to lightly flick the top of your head.

"Alright, get to work you two! Y/N, congrats on the promotion." The museum director passed by, giving both of you a knowing smile. You quickly stepped away from each other as you thanked her with a pink tint on your cheeks. You began to turn away from Tsukishima until he grabbed your hand.

"We're getting dinner later."

"Oh, we don't have t—"

"I want to. Now, come on. Can't have my co-exhibit designer slacking off on their first day," his tone attempted to be stern as he pulled you towards the staff room.

"You really are so sweet," you teased but happily followed anyway.

"Shut up."

Tsukishima Kei: 0, You: 5

Now, you were sitting across the same man you love to hate at your favorite restaurant.

"I have an idea." The dumb smirk you've grown to love appeared on Tsukishima's face. You loved when he was like this. His playful demeanor was a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression. You had the two glasses of wine to thank for that.

You raised an eyebrow telling him to go on.

"I think this celebration calls for some free dessert," he leaned in to tell you this as if he was letting you in on a secret.

"What do you mean free?"

He grabbed your hand resting on the table.

"I'm going to borrow this." He started pulling off one of your rings.

"Wh—"

"Shhh, just go with it." Keeping your hand in his, he moved off of his seat and knelt down in front of you. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets as you started whisper yelling at him to get up. This worked to his advantage as your shock only made it look more real.

"Oh my god. Kei, no," you tried to say sternly as you leaned down to him, but the alcohol in your system threw you into a fit of nervous giggles. You looked around the restaurant in a panic, hiding your face in your hands until he pulled one down and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

The pure amusement on his face contrasted with the sincere look in his eyes. The blush on your face boosted his ego more than he cared to admit.

You attempted to scold him again. “Tsukishima Kei, if you don’t get up right n—“

To your dismay, your waitress came over to your table and gasped at the scene unfolding in front of her. One by one, everyone’s attention turned to the blonde-haired man down on one knee. Tsukishima dropped his head and laughed, trying to hide the blush on his face. He cursed under his breath. Fuck. Suddenly the alcohol was wearing off. What has he done?

You lifted his chin up with your free hand, forcing him to look up at you again.

“You better put on a show for them,” you challenged him, knowing he hated this kind of attention. He noted the proximity between your faces and the way you squeezed his hand as a form of reassurance. The sparkle in your eyes was all it took for him to collect himself again. The people near you began shushing everyone else around them.

Well. Now or never, he thought. This will be easy.

He took a deep breath as you looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to chicken out.

“L/N, F/N. I fell for you the moment we met.”

Oh.

Tsukishima Kei: 1, You: 5

Your heart clenched at his words, but you quickly shook the feeling. This was just for a free dessert, right?

“Oh, really now?” You thought back to that moment and snickered under your breath, only for him to hear. He squeezed your hand, silently telling you to shut up. This only made you giggle more.

“You are my light. My life only works with you in it,” he announced.

Your breath hitched. Now that shut you up.

Tsukishima Kei: 2, You: 5

“I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you make me."

Tsukishima Kei: 3, You: 5

“I love you. Your wit, your humor, your passion, your drive.. your kindness. All of it.”

Tsukishima Kei: 4, You: 5

“That’s enough,” you whispered and started shaking your head. You knew this was just for show, but why did hearing his words set a fire in you? Why was your heart aching?

“I fall in love with you more and more everyday. I’ll fall harder tomorrow and even harder the day after that. Please give me all of your tomorrows. Please marry me.”

Damn, he was good.

Tsukishima Kei: 5, You: 5

Your eyes began to water. Where was this coming from? Is he actually that good of an actor? Your expression was a mixture of confusion, shock, and a hint of irritation. Unable to comprehend any of your feelings, you shook your head and remembered that you had to play along for that goddamn dessert.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes!” you nodded, trying not to look too enthusiastic about this fake proposal. Everyone around you erupted into cheers, the flash of numerous phones and cameras blinding you. Tsukishima put the ring on your finger and chuckled as he stood up and pulled you in for a hug, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You laughed into his chest at the insanity of it all.

“I’m sorry if that was t—“ Whatever he was saying was cut short by the crowd around you.

“Oh come on, give her a real kiss!” “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” “Kiss her!”

You groaned and felt his laughter erupt through his chest. Pulling back to look at him, you shook your head in disbelief. He lightly held onto your waist and pulled you close, his forehead resting onto yours.

“We really don’t have to, not if it makes you uncomfortable,” he assured you.

“Pft, you’re not the only one who can put on a show,” you quipped. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the alcohol—whatever it was, you surrendered to it as you pulled him down by his collar and crashed your lips into his. You tasted the wine on his lips, savoring every second in case you would never get the opportunity again. After a few seconds, you began to pull away only for him to attach his lips onto yours again. One of his hands cupped your face while the other gripped your waist, not wanting you to pull away just yet. You matched his fervor, losing yourself in him.

The cheers in the restaurant quickly brought you back down to earth as you pulled away and hid your face in his chest again. He chuckled and rubbed the sides of your arms, soothing you. You pulled back to look at him with a small smile on your face.

“So you do know how to be nice to me,” you gushed, breaking the tension.

“I am nice to you!” He scoffed.

“Yeah but not that nice,” you teased, pulling him down to you again. Tsukishima shook his head and left a kiss on your cheek.

“You kissed me first,” he reminded you, mumbling against your cheek.

“Hm.. Guess you’ll just have to kiss me first next time,” you gave him a quick peck. Before he could pull you in again, your waitress arrived with two pieces of chocolate cake with the words Congrats! drizzled on the plate next to a heart. You pulled away from him to thank the waitress and the people around you, allowing them to go back to their meals. He pulled your chair out for you, ignoring the smug look on your face.

Before taking his seat, he leaned down and murmured against your ear, “There better be a next time,” leaving you a blushing mess.

“Next time” ended up being an hour later against the front door of your apartment. From then on, there were a lot of “next times.”

Tsukishima Kei: 6, You: 5

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

a/n: wait and then in the future after you two actually get married, you end up have two “wedding” anniversaries hehe and he always makes sure to celebrate both but he’ll never admit that he highkey loves celebrating the fake one more than the real one because it was such a sweet memory :p AW tsukki

[pandoras-princess]

Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader) 18+

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovely peopless! 🌸 I have had the worst writer’s block and honestly it felt like this part was going to go on forever. But we’re here and we’re over it 🤗 I’m actually quite proud of how this one turned out despite everything so I shall keep it short and sweet but I will say please please read part one before you read this if you haven’t already, this part won’t make sense otherwise but that’s it for the nagging I swear 😚 sooo without further adieu I give you part two 😁😁 Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is always welcome 😌

Summary: It’s been half a year and you’ve settled quite nicely into your job at the Garrison, as well as all the perks that come with it. Your relationship with Tommy takes an unexpected turn, igniting a fire within John he hadn’t known was simmering...

Pairing: (OOC) Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, explicit mentions of sex, smoking

PART ONE PART THREE PART FOUR

━◦ ♡ ◦━◦ ♡ ◦━◦━◦ ♡ ◦━◦ ♡ ◦━

It’s been 6 months since your first shift at the Garrison, and running the bar isn’t the only thing you've settled into.

After spending the night together in his office, you and Tommy came to a mutually beneficial arrangement. You provide him with some much needed stress release, in return he provides you with the love and adoration you so desperately crave, even if only for the brief moments spent in your bed.

As the intimate meetings became more and more frequent, there was still no doubt in your mind that you were little more than a functional lay to the man.

Truthfully, you were anything but functional because with every encounter Tom could feel his heart falling for you.

At first, it was how you'd light a cigarette for him right after sex, plucking the stick from your lips to tuck it between his before you lit your own; it was the way your wild curls would encompass your face like a halo at even the smallest tilt of your head; it was the way you could handle any rowdy punter at the bar with a few choice words and a look that could put even the hardest man in his place. And now? Now, it was absolutely everything about you. Tom found his head clouded with thoughts of you constantly, the only relief taken from being in your presence.

What started out as a bit of harmless fun, had now become a nightly occurence.

Tonight being no exception, you skillfully roll over him, careful not to place any unwanted weight on delicate body parts. Tom pulls on his cigarette, inhaling the harsh smoke as he admires the after-sex glow radiating off your naked form. The only marrs on your skin were the hickeys he made in an eager bid to claim you as his own.

You set about gathering your clothes, unaware of the adoration swimming in the blue irises behind.

“What're you doing?”

“I’m getting ready to leave” you chime, now all too accustomed to the usual routine of sex and a quick smoke before walking home or sneaking Tom out.

Returning to the bed in hopes of retrieving your underwear, Tommy’s large hand wraps around your thigh holding you in place, and any thoughts of the discarded fabric are dashed.

“Stay.”

It was not a question but a statement, the silent pleading in his eyes a far too familiar feeling of your own.

“Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember you sayi-”

“I know what I said, that's not what I want anymore” he interrupts, perfectly aware of the words about to be repeated back to him.

Straddling his waist, his hands come to rest on your hips, thumbs drawing invisible circles on the soft skin beneath as your hands trail mindlessly along his toned chest, goosebumps appearing in their wake.  

“What do you want then?” The question comes out breathily, and your heart pounds against your ribcage at such an intensity you were sure it was audible.

“I wan’t you, Y/N.”

There it was. The words you’d been waiting to hear for what felt like an eternity.

You ignore the niggling voice in the back of your mind; the voice reminding you that this decleration of- of- whatever it is, was coming from the mouth of the wrong Shelby brother.

“Is that so, Mr Shelby?”

Tommy is cast back to the very first time you’d given yourself to him - bent over his desk and shamelessly moaning his name as he pounded you with such force he worried the aged wood might just give out from under you - and he remembers just why he’d had this change of heart in the first place.

You were perfect. Plain and simple.

Of course you had your quirks, everyone did. But try as he might he couldn’t find a single one that put him off. The more time spent together the more he was convinced God had crafted you entirely for his sake.

“Yes Y/N that is so.” Tommy’s fingers connect with your waist and your angelic giggles fill the air, the smile tracing his lips deepening.

Flipping over so that his body is snug between your legs, he continues his relentless tickle attack, relishing the feel of your body squirming underneath him as you desperately try to get away.

“To-tommy sto-stop tickling me!”

Your dainty hands barely manage to prise one hand from your waist before the other reconnects, rendering your muscles useless as you collapse into laughter.

“O-okay you win! I’m yo-yours, all yours!”

“Ah the magic words.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Tommy’s beautiful face beaming down at you, having obviously accomplished his mission. Draping your slender arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss and his hands roam your body, tracing along each and every curve before settling for burying in your curls.

For the first time in six months, you and Tommy made love. Well, the first and second time, to be exact.

Hours later and Tommy is peeling his body off of yours, lungs begging for oxygen as the fragments of your mind recollect themselves - the ecstasy of your orgasms positively mind blowing.

“Tommy?”

“Mm?”

“Do you mind if we, um, maybe wait before telling everyone. I just don’t fancy them sticking their oar in, m’ really quite content just us” you muse, shifting into place beside him. Your touch dances along his collarbones, exploring every groove and crevice on its travels to his jawline.

Eyes closed, a lop-sided grin gracing those oh so plump lips. Silky brown waves marvellously tousled from hours of your fingers raking through them.

The man truly was a work of art.

Tommy hums softly in response, one lid opening to peer down at you before capturing your hand in his, lightly pecking each of your fingers along the way.

“Anything for you, Princess.”

With the ghost of his soft lips lingering, your focus shifts to the rhythmic beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the ever so slight twitch of his fingers. And so, wrapped securely in the arms of tender loving care, you drift off to sleep.

The next morning your small figure is weaving throughout the back streets of Small Heath, now an expert on the roads less traveled by Peaky Blinders and Co.

With blood pounding in your ear drums and your heart thuddering in your chest, you sneak through the creaky door making a beeline for the stairs.

“Where’ve you been?”

You reluctantly enter the kitchen, finding Polly at the breakfast table with a cup of tea to her left, an ashtray to her right and a heap of papers inbetween.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“No where.”

“That hickey on your neck says otherwise” she smirks, finally raising her head to look at you.

Your hand pointlessly rushes to cover the purple bruise darkening by the minute on your jugular. “Shit!”

“So how is Tommy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said how is Tommy?” Polly repeats the question, panic creeping up your throat like bile.

“You mean... you know?”

“You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice my own nephew sneaking in and out of this house every night. Give me some credit” she quips. “Don’t worry your little secret is safe with me.”

The parilysing fear immediately dissolves and you plunk yourself down at the table, a dreamy sigh leaving your mouth as you lay your head to rest in your palms.

“Oh Pol, it’s wonderful! He’s so- so-”

“Please, spare me the details.”

“-so perfect!”

“Y/N, he’s Tommy Shelby - perfect isn’t a word within that man’s description.”

“Well it is in mine” you mumble.

“Anyway since you’re here you can help me. We’re having a gathering tonight and I want everyone here so I need you to go and tell them. In the lounge, 6pm sharp.”

“Fine” you huff, rising from the table.

“Oh and Y/N, make sure you cover that thing up before you see John, we don’t need any more murders around here.”

Red hot flames lick at your cheeks and Polly’s lips stretch into a smirk once again, chuckling to herself as she returns to the paperwork before her.

By 6 o’clock all members of the Shelby clan are slowly trickling into the lounge. Tommy and yourself are the first to arrive and he immediately chooses the right corner seat, guiding your body into the empty space beside him.

“Alright Pol” Tom greets his aunt not bothering to make eye contact as he notices a stray curl fall into your eyes, gently tucking it back in it’s rightful place before leaving a quick kiss on your temple.

Polly’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she hands you both a whiskey.

“You’ll want to be a bit more discreet than that when the others turn up.”

“Yes thank you Pol” Tom replies sarcastically as you direct your attention to ridding your jumper of non-existent fluff.

“Alright Polly.”

Your head snaps to the source of the gruff voice, butterflies fluttering against the confines of your ribcage as you lock eyes with John.

“Ye alright love” he plants a kiss on the top of your head before collapsing into the free corner of the sofa.

John was a man of few words, those that didn’t know him might even say simple. But when it came to you, the unspoken language of Jonathon Shelby was one of the few you could speak, thus giving rise to the overly affectionate nature of your relationship.

If this was a few years ago - before Esme, before Tommy, before that tart in the back alley, when everything was right with the world - you’d be tucked up next to John, curled into his side with a strong arm wrapped firmly around your waist. His fingers would absentmindedly trail along your skin, a private joke or snarky comment whispered into your ear every now and then. And when he laughed, oh god when he laughed, each muscle would flex around you drawing you in closer, forcing every fibre of your being to fight the urge to kiss him.

But this was not a few years ago and things had changed, the harsh truth slapping you in the face like a wet fish as you catch sight of Esme trawling into the lounge; each butterfly erupting into a tiny globe of fire as she settles herself between you and John.

How beautifully ironic you thought, shifting yourself closer to Tommy.

Eventually Ada and Arthur arrive and the night rolls on. The whiskey burns through your veins, blending with your blood on its way straight to your head. With a fair amount of Dutch courage under your belt your body was craving the intimacy it was used to on a night like this. So taking your chances you snuggle into Tommy, allowing yourself to relax when you feel his arm instinctively snaking around you.

The action - which could easily be passed off as a caring moment between two friends - hadn’t gone unnoticed, and every muscle under John’s control seized up at the sight.

More stories poured out, along with many more drinks - you’d half a mind to suspect Polly was purposely fueling you with alcohol - and the more brazen you become, your legs now laying over Tommy’s with his left hand resting comfortably on your thighs.

You gently tap on the waistband of his suit trousers, and hope that Tommy understands your silent request. The movement was much too slight to draw any attention and he brings his left hand to scratch an itch that wasn’t there, before casually placing it over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze when he’s sure nobody has noticed.

He forgot, however, that Ada was positioned with a clear viewpoint of the loving act, sitting smugly on the arm next to him as she put two and two together. She thought the pair of you had been awfully happy lately, much too happy for it to be coincidental.

As everyone focused their attention on Polly and her latest crazy tale, John’s jaw clenched and unclenched for the hundredth time, the muscle aching under the constant tension. He sat on the other side of the sofa, soundlessly raging as he thought over the countless nights you’d been draped over him like that, whispering and giggling, eyes glistening with mischief as he shared another secret joke with you. Now here you were, draped over his brother, whispering and giggling as your eyes glistened with what he hoped was the large amount of whiskey you’d ingested, and not the same mischief you once shared with him.

Esme attempted to replicate your position, and she was met with John’s hand roughly pushing her aside. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He wasn’t even sure why he couldn’t take it - it’s not as if you’d ever be stupid enough to fall for his brother’s plan.

“Tommy stop!” you giggle, brushing his hand from your curls as he pretends to mess them up.

That was enough. “C’mon Es we’re going.”

Your laughter dies down as you look up at John, his blue orbs cold and hard as they stare back at you.

For once, you couldn’t place the unvoiced emotion set on his face. For once, you couldn’t read the man you once considered your best friend.

[darlingimabard]

the ongoing saga of alfred pankratz

my own fic about this will be going up on ao3 tomorrow, it’s planned to eventually span all of jaskier’s childhood + staying at kaer morhen though so buckle up kids we’re in for the long haul until then, here are some fun facts about this au:

Vesemir follows after Alfred into Kaer Morhen and offers to treat his injured hand, Alfred is charmed by how gently Vesemir handles him despite his gruff demeanour and the fact that he just punched one of his sons

Vesemir knows Geralt won't even bruise from that hit and the idiot confessed himself that he drove away his bard but he's still impressed that Alfred had the guts to do it

He compliments Alfred's bravery and the professor loses all of his cool immediately 

Vesemir…likes that more than he thinks he should, plus Alfred's got really soft curls and lovely warm brown eyes…

Tender homoerotic wrapping of a bandage around a hand ensues

After that it's gay panic 2: electric boogaloo because both of them thought they would be single dads forever? And haven't dated anyone in decades?? or just haven’t dated full stop???

They get drunk with each other and bond over the struggles of parenting and huh, they actually have a lot of things in common...

Vesemir enjoys flirting with Alfred to watch that unflappable veneer break and because he gets a lot of reactions from people, fear, hatred, respect but adorably flustered has never been one of them, it’s...nice

Alfred is delighted to learn that he can fluster Vesemir back by writing poetry about him and then reading it aloud for 'feedback'

It cumulates to Alfred leaning on his shoulder while reciting a piece about the witcher’s strong arms, tilting his head up at Vesemir once he’s finished with that soft grin that doesn’t belong anywhere near the harshness of an old witcher 

Vesemir snaps, closing the distance between their lips and yeah, he’s still got it 

So does Alfred, despite the fact that he’s fourty

“My dear, as flattering as that assumption is, I’m 61.” “Wait, what? you’re barely even greying???”

Because Alfred has the dubious honour of being the first human to be a member of the fae court and their magic just kind of rubbed off on him

The court turned up to recruit Jaskier due to spike of distinctly fae magic surrounding Oxenfurt but Alfred was like my kid is 11 he's not doing anything other than colouring in and chasing frogs

So he became Jaskier's legal representative

This event marks the point in Alfred's life when he just gave up and was like fine fuck it, my life's already weird enough, let's just do this

(fun oxenfurt academy fact: if you hear faint yelling from the forest, that’s just professor pankratz doing some stress relief, you can even differentiate what he’s stressed about, there’s the general stress scream, the Jaskier stress scream and the ‘my students are idiots’ stress scream)

It becomes much more amusing when he realises that he's the only one who can lie in court

He gets away with talking shit because he passes it off as oh, just his oblivious child’s words and even if they ask, he knows Jaskier will automatically back him up cause his son loves drama

This is also when he learns that he's accidently trained Jaskier to be a terrifying powerhouse because Alfred had no preconceived notions of what should be impossible with magic so Jaskier regularly breaks fae magic rules without batting an eye while his newly assigned tutors scream in frustration

The court is less mean than they could be though because usually fae have to trick humans into adopting changelings but then Alfred just did it. it wasn’t even disguised as his kid??? Just a random child??? And he just adopted him with no prompting???

Alfred’s like yeah? what else was I supposed to do???

Also the reason Jaskier doesn't use his last name is because Pankratz is recognizable as the name of the bestselling author who wrote all those beautiful poems about the joys of having a son and how precious his child is to him

Medieval equivalent of your parents showing off your baby pictures to your friends except instead of friends it's the entire continent, dad! no one is going to take me seriously when they know me as your ‘baby buttercup’!

Thanks to everyone who gave love and requested more of this silly idea of mine it’s my first real fanfic so all this support means a lot! tags under cut

@daisyannewinchester @so--many-fandoms @i-can-see-the-stars @queen-ryla @skywing4797 @caspertheassholeghost @the-real-dannix @mewbotz @ellaprime7 @drowningbydegrees @witchersjaskier @therockroseandthistle ��@lazyboii17 @countessklair @musings-on-bucky-barnes @illustrativewriter @anotherbookwithtornpages @bardic-charm @19lady-mad81 @ealdor  @ewanspotter 

[batterycityghoul]

I’ve Got a Broken Mask (Ben Hargreeves/Reader)

Requested by @gurlimtired​ who asked: “Hello there! Would you write a Ben x reader, where Ben and Klaus realized earlier in the 60s, that Ben can possess him and Ben spend a day in his skin. And while he's enjoying himself and the fact that he has a body he meets reader in kind of an awkward way (like he's palms a random thing, or just run around barefoot in the town) and after that they spend the day together?”

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took me so long! I’ve been so nervous about this, but I really hope you like this. Sorry this turned out kind of angsty. 💖 Title comes from Here Comes the End by Gerard Way. 

 "Alright, Benny boy, we've got a few rules to go over before I give you free reign of this," Klaus emphasized as he gestured up and down his body.  

"Really, Klaus? What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Well, if you were me, and you will be," Klaus started as he tucked his hair behind his ear, "then you're going to want to get up to all kinds of trouble."

"Klaus, I'm not you. That's the whole point of this, remember?" Ben couldn't help but point out, already lowkey regretting his acceptance of Klaus’ gift.  

Upon getting thrown into the 60s, Klaus and Ben had to learn how to totally rely on each other for company. Klaus' cult came gradually to him, but Ben was the only one who actually knew him. On the other hand, Klaus was the only person Ben could actually communicate with on a regular basis.  

Ben loved Klaus. Of course he did. He wouldn't have stuck around after his death if he didn't want to spend time with his brother. He just didn't realize he was signing up for going on seventeen years of an endless cycle with Klaus.  

He would try to get Klaus to listen to him and Klaus chose to do what Klaus wanted to do.

Even though he was usually annoyed by his antics, Ben still agreed to help Klaus gain favor with his benefactors, because at the end of the day, he couldn't stand to see Klaus hurt. Did he think Klaus' ego was getting a little out of control now that he had a horde of mindless followers? Possibly. But he didn't want to see Klaus homeless or starving. So, he did what he had to do in order to help Klaus adjust to life after getting unceremoniously dumped in the early 1960s.  

It didn't mean that there weren't fights between them. Sometimes, Ben got so frustrated with Klaus that he just wanted to scream.  

It was during a fight in 1961 when they realized Ben could possess Klaus. He would never forget the cold shock of phasing through Klaus' body followed by the delight of discovery.  

Klaus wasn't pleased by the prospect, but he started coming around once Ben explained about his experience as a ghost. He told him about not having any freedom. He couldn't eat or drink or sleep. He could read, but he couldn't smell the books or feel their pages beneath his fingers. He missed talking to someone who wasn't Klaus. He had to do what Klaus wanted, because he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't go to the park when he wanted to just sit outside and read and he couldn't see the ocean or savor the smell of it.  

He just wanted to live, even if it was through Klaus.  

They kept working on it until Klaus began to grow a tolerance for having Ben inhabit his body. At first, they could only go for a few minutes before Klaus had to tap out. As time wore on, Klaus started to be able to handle it for hours without getting sick.  

Ben knew that it was a lot to ask from Klaus. And even though they still fought, he appreciated that Klaus would let him experience all of the little trivial things he didn't realize he would miss once he was dead.  

The only stipulation was that Ben always stayed around the cult. They were usually in some new and interesting place, so it wasn't much of a hardship, but he was starting to mourn other things he couldn't do around them.  

That was why when October approached and Klaus said he had a birthday present for him, Ben was more than a little skeptical.  

"You've never given me a birthday present. Ever," Ben helpfully pointed out.  

"Well, there's a first time for everything, Benarino. And besides, I'm sure this will make up for the past thirty something years," Klaus claimed with a smirk.  

It turned out that Klaus' present was a day in his body.  

"Now, you can go wherever you want. Do whatever you want. Just no hanky panky. Well..." Klaus mused with a thoughtful expression.

"Klaus," Ben groaned, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Can you be serious for once?"

"Hey, I'm the one handing out the day passes here, buddy," Klaus reminded him as he pointed a finger in his face. "I'm letting you enter this private sexy temple of mine," Klaus continued as he ran a hand down his own chest, "and I didn't even make you buy me a drink first. The least you could do is be grateful."

Ben grimaced in disgust before he shook his head. "Why do you have to phrase it that way?"

Klaus shot him a grin before he turned and opened the door to his bedroom. "First rule of Fight Club," Klaus started, a smirk forming on his face at Ben's groan of protest.  

"Klaus, come on," Ben pleaded. "You've only given me a day and you're wasting it being you."  

Klaus rolled his eyes before he sighed. "You're taking the fun out of this. You know I'm going to wake up later with a killer hangover and this is how you thank me?"  

"Klaus," Ben started, doing his best to keep his calm. "I appreciate this gift."

Klaus offered him a pleased grin. "Was that so hard? Alright, go have fun in the city. Go smell some flowers or feed some ducks or whatever it is you're wanting to do." He threw his arms wide, wincing as he turned his face away. "Just be gentle."

"Thank you, Klaus," Ben told him with a sincere smile. He took a deep breath, even though he didn't need it, and stepped into Klaus' body.  

                                                       ***

You were sitting in your office working on inventory when there was a knock on the door. There was only one person who was allowed to bother you while you were doing paperwork. You groaned and looked up to see your office door slowly inching open. "What is it, Shane?"

"Uh, I know I'm not supposed to interrupt you, but there's a weirdo in the store, and I know you like to deal with those personally."

Knowing Shane, 'weirdo' could be used to describe over half the people who visited your bookstore. You still decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Be right there," you assured him.  

You heard Shane let out a sigh of relief before he closed your office door. You couldn't help the rueful grin on your face as you made sure that you were at a good stopping point. If you were lucky, then you would get out into the store just to see that Shane had been spooked by a little kid on a sugar high. It wouldn't be the first time.  

When you finally made it out to the front counter, Shane helpfully pointed towards a man sitting in the reading nook. You weren't really sure why Shane would have found the man weird until you took a closer look.  

"Seriously? Because he's barefoot?" You hissed at Shane, quirking an eyebrow at him in question. "That's not weird."

"Just wait," Shane muttered, warily watching the man.  

You sighed, but dutifully went back to observing the man sitting in one of the armchairs on the other side of the store. He was slowly flipping through the pages of a book and running his fingers lovingly over every page. It wasn't long before he brought the book up to his face and pressed his nose right into the crease. You saw him take a deep breath, as if savoring the smell, before a delighted grin broke out over his face.  

"See," Shane pointed out as he moved to swat at your arm. "Weird," he stressed with a waggle of his eyebrows.  

"He's not weird," you denied with a shake of your head. "Just give me a minute to talk to him."

You ignored Shane's warning to not get too close as you moved across the store towards the stranger. The guy was so deeply absorbed in the book in front of him that you couldn't help the tiny, fond smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.  

"Excuse me, sir?" You called as you approached the man, not wanting to startle him. "I'm afraid we have a policy about wearing shoes."

The guy's eyes snapped up to look at you. He looked confused for a moment before he looked down to where his toes were curling into the carpet beneath his feet.  

"Oh," he breathed in awe before he looked up at you again. "I didn't even notice," he confessed with a hushed tone. "It's just been so long since I've been in a bookstore and I guess I got carried away."

You noticed the way he had the book in his hands clutched almost reverently to his chest. You also caught the dog tags hanging around his neck. You thought you suddenly understood why he was so desperate for something that obviously comforted him.  

You waved Shane off when it looked like he was half a second from calling for help and moved to sit in the empty armchair near the stranger. "Just got home?" You couldn't help but wonder. He didn't look like any soldier you knew, especially with the long hair, but it was the only thing that really made sense to you.  

"Something like that," the guy muttered as he finally let the book fall into his lap. "I've only got one day."

You couldn't help the incredulous laugh that broke free when you glanced from him to the books surrounding you. "So, you chose to waste the day in my store?"

"Your store? Oh shit, I'm sorry," he said with a wince, hastily moving to stand.  

"No, just wait," you stalled him with a hand on his arm.  

He looked so thrown off by your fingers wrapped loosely around his forearm that you were quick to let go.  

"I just meant that if you only have one day back home, then why aren't you spending it doing something else? Something more exciting?"

"It's been so long since I've been able to really hold a book that it was all I could think about," he offered with a shrug of his shoulders. You watched a tiny, helpless grin steal across his face as he ran his fingers along the cover of the book in his lap. "Being here felt like coming home," he confided as he glanced at you.  

You considered him for a few moments, feeling almost helplessly drawn in by him. "I'm Y/N," you finally offered, holding out your hand for him to shake.  

"Ben," the guy answered as he let his hand grasp yours. You noticed the way his fingertips brushed against your palm as he let go, as if he wanted to keep contact as long as possible.  

"Well, Ben," you started as you leaned forward in your seat, offering him a sincere smile. "Why don't you let me take you to lunch? It's the least I can do," you told him as you gestured towards his dog tags.  

Ben frowned down at the tags, as if just realizing he was wearing them. "Oh, I'm not--" he started, reaching up to hesitantly touch them, but stopping before his fingers wrapped around the chain. "I mean, not really," he continued, looking lost for a moment. He sighed and met your gaze, his brows furrowed in frustration for a moment, before his expression smoothed out. "You know what? That sounds nice."

"Let me just go make sure Shane over there can hold down the fort and I'll be back," you assured him as you moved to stand.  

When you left Ben, you noticed he resumed studying the book in his hands. There was a small, pleased smile on his face and you couldn't help but hope that it was partly because of you.  

"Are you crazy?" Shane asked once you told him what you were doing. "He could be a psycho! He could murder you the second he gets you alone."

"He's not getting me alone," you told him, barely managing to not roll your eyes. "Just promise me you'll lock up, okay?"

Shane squinted at you, visibly warring between concern and irritation, before he sighed. "Got it," he finally conceded. "Go on your date."

"It's not a date," you corrected him before you moved back towards your office to grab your bag. You felt a momentary flare of guilt for abandoning your paperwork, but you knew you would be back for it later. Besides, it wasn't every day you offered to buy a random guy a meal.  

When you got back out into the store, it was to see Ben standing near the front door, nervously shifting on his feet. He looked like he wasn't sure if he was still welcome, so you made sure to greet him with a warm grin.  

"Ready to go?" You asked as you moved to stand near his side.  

"Yeah," he quickly agreed. "Shall we?"  

"Just give me one moment," you told him as you moved to dig through your bag, searching for your wallet. "You'll probably need some shoes if we're going to eat somewhere," you reminded him before you flashed him a reassuring grin. "There's a place just a few stores down that should have what you're looking for. Want to head down there and I'll meet you there in a minute?"

"Right. Shoes," Ben agreed with a shake of his head and a grimace. "You couldn't have been wearing shoes, Klaus?" You heard him mutter to himself.  

"It's no big deal," you promised him, wondering who Klaus was. "It's just a few doors that way," you informed him as you pointed to your left.  

"Right," Ben echoed as he moved to open the door to the store. You noticed him glance around the bookstore as he left, letting out a wistful sigh, before he let the door shut behind him.  

It didn't take you long to grab what you wanted and meet Ben at the apparel store. He picked out a pair of sandals he seemed to only tolerate wearing as you led him towards one of your favorite lunch spots.  

By the time you were sitting across from him, you resolved to find out as much about Ben as you could. There was a gentleness to his demeanor that you found inviting. His smile was so sweet as he thanked you for the food that you couldn’t help but want to keep making him smile.  

He told you a few random tidbits about his life. He mostly talked about his family and how he had been separated from them. He mentioned being homesick and missing his mother's cooking. He said he missed hanging out with his siblings and simply going to the movies. He missed the smell and taste of fresh fruit and he longed to see something beautiful.  

It sounded like he just really missed life.  

Even though you had only offered lunch, you still couldn't bring yourself to leave him just yet. You didn't want to impose on his one day back home, but when you suggested trying to catch a movie together, he seemed to light up at the prospect.  

You weren't really surprised when you ended up watching Ben more than you did the movie. You adored his odd little giggle at some scenes and the way his eyes went wide with wonder at others. He seemed to feel an honest sense of enjoyment out of simply being there at the movies with you that you couldn't help but begin to wish that you had more than a day to get to know him. It felt like there was so much about Ben that you had yet to unlock, but a sinking feeling in your gut told you it would never happen.  

When the movie was over, Ben seemed as reluctant to leave you as you were to leave him. There was a part of you that just wanted to reach out and hold on until he promised to stay. But you knew that wasn't fair. You knew he was just as aware of his timer running out as you were and you didn't want to add to the melancholic feeling that was beginning to creep into your interactions.  

You remembered Ben mentioning wanting to see something beautiful, so you suggested a picnic at the beach for dinner. You were worried it was a bit too romantic for two people who had only met earlier that day, but Ben seemed pleased with the idea.  

By the time you were both sitting on a blanket, each of you enjoying the sandwiches and grapes you managed to score at a small grocery store just near the beach, you were starting to dread the end of the day.  

You were content to watch Ben with his head tipped back, his hair ruffled by the wind rolling over the both of you, as he drew in a deep breath. There was a satisfied grin on his face at the smell of the salt that permeated the air.  

"Are you sure you don't have another day?" You couldn't help but ask. It seemed so unfair to you that someone who seemed so genuinely fascinated by life's little wonders wouldn't be able to enjoy them for much longer.  

"I guess I'm a bit like Cinderella," Ben admitted with a wry smirk as he cracked open an eye to squint at you. "Once today is up, all the magic disappears, and I have to be happy with what I've got."

"Well, I hope this will help," you told him as you reached for your bag. You pulled out the book he had been practically fondling in your store earlier that day and handed it over to him. "For you," you assured him when he hesitated to take it from you. "Frankenstein, huh? Wouldn't have taken you for a horror guy."

There was a sad twist to his lips as he reached out to let his fingers drift over the cover of the novel. "It seemed appropriate," he murmured as he finally let himself grab the book. "What did you think I'd be interested in?" There was a curious tilt to his head as he looked at you, his fingers still running over the book as if memorizing how it felt in his hands.  

"I don't know," you mused with a shake of your head. "Maybe you're one of those guys who's secretly into romance. Maybe you like a little fantasy. Maybe something a bit philosophical," you pondered as you moved to nudge his arm with yours.  

You almost didn't catch the movement as Ben reached out to grip your hand. He tangled your fingers together, a smug grin on his face as he let your joined hands rest on the blanket between you. "Maybe you're right," he said, an almost awed look on his face that told you he couldn't believe he was being so bold.  

You felt yourself flush at the feeling of his hand in yours. It was something you didn't know you needed until that very moment, but you couldn't even fathom having to give it up now. You squeezed his hand as you leaned over to place a kiss on his cheek.  

You caught a glimpse of the enthralled expression on his face and couldn't help but fall for him all the more.  

You spent the rest of your time on the beach just watching the waves crash onto the shore. Ben never let go of you, but you noticed him playing with the sand at his side with his free hand, seeming to marvel at the feeling of it as he let it fall through his fingers over and over.  

As the sun began to set, Ben finally turned to look at you. "I wish I could stay," he admitted with a dismayed frown.  

"I wish you could too," you confessed on a whisper. You felt like your day with Ben was a gift, but you weren't sure if it was for him or you.  

While Ben walked you back to your store, you kept trying to come up with ideas to ensure he could stay. You wanted to see him again. You wanted to talk about books or movies or spend a night together under the stars. You wanted to know everything about him, but you knew that it was selfish to ask.  

If he said he had to leave, then you knew he had to leave.  

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you both came to a stop in front of your store.  

"Here," Ben said as he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a crushed daisy that was beginning to wilt and fall apart. "I picked it up earlier today because I missed them," he told you with a shrug. "But I want you to have it." He held it out to you, wincing when the stem began to splinter.  

"I love it," you assured him as you reached out to take the flower from him.  

You noticed Ben bite his lip, as if gearing himself up to say something, before he finally reached out to take your free hand in both of his. "Y/N, I want to thank you. I wasn't really sure what I wanted out of today, but you made it perfect for me. I'm not going to forget that."

You weren't sure why you felt choked up as you studied him for what you hated to think would be the last time. "I had a good time with you, Ben. Maybe we'll get to do this again someday?"

There was a saddened look on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe," he agreed with a nod of his head.  

You knew both of you were aware that this was really going to be goodbye. There was something so final about this moment that you couldn't help but feel like you were losing someone you had known forever even if it was just for a day.  

Ben abruptly let out a soft, pained groan as he clenched his eyes shut. He brought his hands up and held onto his head for a moment.  

"Ben? What's wrong?" You worried as you reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.  

"Nothing. It's nothing," he dismissed with a miserable little twist to his mouth as he opened his eyes to regard you. "I just need to be going."

"Oh," you sighed. "Right. Your carriage is about to turn into a pumpkin, huh?"  

Ben let out a surprised laugh, his eyes twinkling with a mirth you were going to miss. "Yeah. Something like that," he agreed. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against your cheek. You felt your breath hitch at the feeling of him in your space, the experience bittersweet with the knowledge that it would never happen again. "Thank you for the greatest day of my life, Y/N."

You let out a choked laugh, wishing you could reach out to him when he started to back away from you. "Any time," you told him as you forced yourself to stay rooted to your spot right in front of your store. "Bye, Ben."

"Goodbye, Y/N," he whispered, his hand coming up and his fingers dipping in a wave. You saw him study you for a moment before he seemed to make himself turn and walk away from you.  

All you could do was watch him leave you with the foolish hope that you would see him again one day.

[each-uisge-enthusiast]

sum tired writing for y’all

——————

suga would be lying if he said he wasn’t tired. he hadn’t slept properly since exam season rolled around.

the amount of extra studying he was forcing into his schedule, combined with practice and trying to control the first and second years, seemed to have simply sucked his will to work.

“seemed to” was the wrong terminology. it definitely had. he’d been staring at the same page of this stupid math book for an hour. he’d reread the first line about twenty times, and so far hadn’t managed to get half way down said page without realising, his brain had been elsewhere, and having to start from the top again.

so yeah, he was pretty tired. suga was pretty damn worn out.

honestly, if he hadn’t seen that it was daichi’s name glowing out from his phone screen, he wouldn’t have picked it up. but, it was daichi, and suga was more than aware that if he didn’t pick up, daichi would be hammering down his door within the hour.

he took a split second to compose his voice. if he sounded as dead as he felt he’d be yelled at for not sleeping enough.

“hi daichi!” the chirpy tone to his voice didn’t sound forced in his mind.

“hey suga,” daichi said, in such a way that suga knew daichi knew he was sleep deprived.

suga’s eyes moved toward the alarm clock that was glowing beside his bed, the bright green numbers burned his eyes.

23:45, which was an entire hour later than he’d thought.

“what are you even doing up at this hour daichi?” suga asked, leaning forward on the table, carefully propping his head up on one hand, the other hand holding the phone to his ear.

daichi laughed, rather stupidly, before responding. “you know, i actually rung you to ask that same question.”

suga’s tired brain wasn’t quite sure it fully understood what daichi had said. “how did you even know i’m awake? what, do you have cameras in my room?”

“what, no-”

“oh my god! you’ve been stalking me! daichi how could you?”

“no! it’s nothing like that!” even through the phone, daichi sounded flustered. “and keep it down, you’ll wake your parents up.”

suga rolled his eyes. “yeah yeah, but, seriously, how did you know i was still up?”

“went on a stress jog.”

“at quarter to midnight?”

“shut up, like you haven’t rung me at this hour whining about tv shows.”

suga huffed. “okay, fair, but may i ask if there was a purpose for this call, other than insulting me?”

“yeah, i’m still outside your house, i figured if neither of us are sleeping we might as well do something.”

“oh? what on earth might you be suggesting daichi?” suga purred, adding a teasingly lilt to his voice.

“get your brain out of the gutter, suga,” daichi snapped, suga only snickered in reply. “i was just thinking, i don’t know, we could go see if that twenty four hour ice cream shop is open.”

“repeat that sentence to yourself a couple times,” suga said, flicking his eyes back to the alarm clock, before letting out a light sigh. “i’ll be down in a minute, just let me get a jacket.”

he didn’t let daichi get a response in before he hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket as he stood up.

he paused to glance in a mirror. he looked like a lunatic. there were seriously heavy shadows under his eyes, and his hair looked like a bird nest. eh, he was pretty sure he was rocking the look.

despite that, he did pause to try shove his hair into place. he told himself it was because he didn’t want to walk around in public like that, even though he knew it was far from the truth.

he snatched up a pale yellow jacket off his bed, as well as an equally pale grey scarf, tugging them both on before slipping out of his room and down to the front door.

“daichi!” he hissed into the cold air, white clouds forming in the air when he spoke.

“wow you really haven’t been sleeping huh?”

suga pulled a face as he turned to look at his friend. “you aren’t any better,” he said, a hand snapping out to hit daichi in the side. daichi shifted to dodge, successfully.

that was a lie. daichi looked, well, suga’s drowsy mind couldn’t really pull the right words. handsome? pretty? somewhere in between?

he was hardly dressed to the nines, but as usual he looked drop dead gorgeous in that stupid all black jogging outfit. suga would have been jealous, had he not enjoyed looking at daichi as much as he did.

daichi rolled his eyes at the comment, letting out a vaguely unamused huff. “i’m sure,” he drawled, before grabbing suga’s hand and dragging him forward. “come on, then, i’m craving cream anmitsu.”

“i don’t understand how you like the chestnuts so much,” suga mutter in reply, his tone hardly matching the bouncing steps he was taking as he followed after daichi.

daichi rolled his eyes rather dramatically. “says the one who always steals them.”

suga huffed, and his free hand swung out to smack daichi’s ribs, this time daichi failed to dodge, and let out a grunt as suga made solid contact.

“i’m not apologising,” daichi snickered. “hitting me is not going to help.”

“blah whatever. i stand by the fact that chestnuts are gross.”

“yet you eat more of them than i do.”

a puff of white air was all daichi got in response.

the bantering continued most the way to the store, though at some point their positions had shifted, suga’s arms ended up wrapped around daichi’s waist, and daichi’s arm was slung over the silver haired boy’s shoulders.

the girl sitting behind the counter gave them a grin as the bell rung. suga thought it looked a little more genuine than most customer service smiles, and he wondered if they were the first customers she’d had.

“hey boys!” suga decided they were definitely her first customers. her tone was too chirpy.

“it’s a bit late for ice cream is it not? you’re the first not-drunk customers i’ve had since i took up night shifts,” she continued.

the poor kid can’t have spoken to anyone for awhile, because the minute daichi responded, and gave their orders, she was off. didn’t shut up. not that suga minded all that much, she was friendly, mainly groaning about trying to keep up with sleep while she worked night shifts and spent six hours at school. then about how she didn’t have much choice because she had to get money somehow.

suga, who was very much used to his teammates ramblings, ended up droning her out while he sat at a tiny table, daichi seemed torn between doing the same or entertaining her, suga was pretty sure she was just using them as an excuse to talk. he honestly doubted she’d care much if they didn’t listen.

quite honestly, suga was rather distracted watching daichi’s expressions. the way his lips twisted into a smile every time he tried to not laugh at the employee’s struggles, the roll of his eyes as he got caught up in her stories. she seemed to notice suga’s eyes, a quiet quirk of her eyebrow snitched on her for watching him just a little too closely.

“anyway, i just haven’t spoken to anyone outside of classes in, like, two weeks.”

suga snickered as he heard daichi’s terrible attempt at stifling a sigh of relief.

“so thanks for not telling me to shut up! enjoy your ice cream boys! and uh, might i recommend getting home soon? it‘s a friday,” she paused to look at a clock, “a saturday morning. there’s gonna be drunk idiots running around and believe me, they aren’t fun to deal with, particularly when, well,” she flicked a hand towards the pair. something in the movement made suga wonder if she played volleyball.

daichi turned to say something to her, but she’d already disappeared out back. suga took advantage of his distraction and snatched a chestnut out of his bowl.

“hey!”

“you know, she has a point about drunk idiots,” suga mused, glancing out to the dark streets.

“think we’ll run into coach ukai and takeda?”

“hah! they’ll both be in ukai’s house getting wild by now!”

daichi made a face of disgust and threw a scarf at suga’s face. suga simply laughed.

by the time they’d finished their ice cream, and opted to just try and sprint full pace back to daichi’s (which was closest, suga sent a text through to his parents, as he had already decided he was not going to try reach home in the dark), the subject had somehow switched to what school ice cream girl had gone to.

“she had a shiratorizawa look.”

“isn’t it a boarding school? she wouldn’t be able to work a night shift if that was the case. she looks like an oikawa fangirl, seijoh.”

“she was pretty cheery, johzenji?”

“nah she looks like she’d hate the colour yellow.”

“how?” daichi tilted his head, squinting his eyes.

“the shadows under her eyes were too purple for her to be the kind of person who would willingly be near that uniform,” suga shrugged. “seijoh.”

daichi, seemingly unable to argue that, hugged and nodded. “okay you win. for now, we can probably just ask her next time.”

“next time?” suga smirked at daichi. “my my, is Mr. Responsible Team Captain really suggesting he’s going to take me on a second irresponsible midnight date?”

as he spoke, he tilted his head down, staring up at daichi with a jokingly flirtatious face, hoping it would smother the pure joy his heart felt, or at least stop it from shining through on his face.

daichi made a strangled noise, his hands moving to hide his face. suga could see the red colour burning the tips of his ears, even with the miserable lack of lighting.

“don’t say it like that,” he mumbled, sounding less like an intimidating captain and more like an embarrassingly lovestruck teen, which had suga giggling.

“you really are easily flustered daichi,” suga murmured, leaning gently into the other’s shoulder. “it’s cute, really.”

the rest of the night lapsed into a peaceful sort of quiet, the sort that one could only ever really feel with someone they were entirely open and comfortable with. the rare kind that regularly reassured suga that he and daichi would be beside each other forever.

[queen-scribbles]

Good to be Back

Oh, look. Callie started talking. Because I’ve never had over-eager muses before. :P Just a little something about her favorite hobby until I’m more familiar with the lore ;)

---

Normally coming home was a relief. The promise of quiet after one of their missions, having time for the adrenaline to fade and her heart rate settle back to normal was a good thing. But today Callie couldn’t stop pacing.

And there was no outlet around the house for all her lingering nervous energy; they hadn’t been gone long enough for anything to need fixing. She bit her lip and looked at Delia. Her sister was asleep on the couch, half covered in a woven dusky rose throw blanket, with Charlie sprawled protectively on the floor in front of her. If history was any indicator, Delia wouldn’t move a muscle for at least four hours, forget waking up.

Callie looked down to catch Charlie’s eye. “You gonna watch her for me?”

The answering “wuff” sounded like it came from under the couch--or maybe out in the kitchen? But it was good enough.

“Great.”Callie darted upstairs to change, stuck a note--”Bouldering :)”--to the blanket over Delia’s chest with masking tape when she came down, and was out the door with one final “Good boy” nod to Charlie. Time for the one thing that could reliably clear her head.

---

It wasn’t far to her favorite spot, a handful of knobby boulders that ranged from nine to fifteen feet tall and back again, some jutting relatively straight up, others tilted at varying angles. Some days there were other climbers, solo or in pairs, but it looked like she was truly solo today.

Delia’ll kill me if she finds out I did this alone alone, Callie thought with a wry smile. Even though I know this one like the back of my hand.

She eyed her usual target out of the bunch, a wide, sloping, moderately difficult specimen nicknamed Widow’s Peak--more for its resemblance to the hairline than any particular danger in climbing it. There were no obvious changes to the familiar ridges and crevices that pocked the surface, and she really did know this one well enough she could probably climb it blindfolded(she wouldn’t, not alone, but she could).

Callie cracked her knuckles, stretched a bit, and started up. All her jittery abundance of energy instantly swung into focus on finding her next grip, another toehold, moving up the rock face with practiced speed. Just because she knew it well was no excuse to get sloppy. It’s good to be back.

One foot slipped from its perch halfway up, the split second shock all it took for her other foot to dislodge as well. Callie looked at the crash pad six feet below, grit her teeth, and curled her legs back in. Her left foot found purchase easily, her right scrabbled for a minute before landing on a small protrusion.

Same place every damn time, Callie groused silently, then huffed hair out of her eyes and continued climbing.

It didn’t take long to complete the well-versed climb and mantle up over the edge. She plunked down on the bumpy rock with a triumphant grin and braced her feet against a large ridge in the boulder’s surface as she took in the view while catching her breath.

Same gorgeous trees, same quaint houses, same barely visible shadow of city life on the horizon. It never really changed, and she was settled by the familiarity of it. The breeze picked up, chillier than down below, and a shiver crawled up her spine. Looked like t-shirt instead of tank top had been a good call. Goosebumps still prickled her forearms, but it wasn’t unbearable. She ran her fingers through her hair to comb it back from her face and exhaled a slow breath.

It had been a real close call this time, circumventing what Delia Saw. Not as close as some, but probably in their top five. Top ten, for sure. It really wasn’t any wonder Delia had passed out from exhaustion on the couch--at least she made it as far as the couch. But they’d done it, and the dryad from Delia’s vision was still alive and well(even if her tree was down a smaller branch or two).

“All’s well that ends well,” Callie muttered to a passing bird, flicking a pebble off the edge with the toe of her show. That was what to focus on. Not the getting lost in an apple orchard or rabid werewolf or skin-of-their-teeth rescue; the happy ending  She was still allowed to need a decompression climb with a success.

“Here’s hoping the next one involves a little less mortal peril, all the same,” she sighed into the growing breeze, followed by a soft snort at the low odds her request would be granted. She knew how this life went.

The breeze gusted strong enough to pull at her clothes and Callie shivered as she held her hair back. Probably a good idea to climb down now...

Or... she countered the little voice, glancing at the next boulder in line; a two foot gap she’d have to jump and then three more feet she could go up before making her way down.

That sounded more fun. So that’s what she did. She didn’t mantle at the top, just smacked a hand over the edge to count as ‘done’ to herself, then started down. This boulder was a less familiar climb, which took longer and called for more concentration, but that was a good thing. Distraction was one of the reasons she was out here, after all. Burning up leftover adrenaline. And there were few better ways to do that than bouldering down a semi-familiar rock she hadn’t gone up in a couple months. She banged her knee twice--skinned it the second time, she could tell--and almost lost her grip once just high enough to be a problem.

It definitely did the trick. By the time she dropped the last couple feet to the crash pad, Callie was free of any adrenaline let-down jitters and had replaced them with a deep sense of contentment that seemed to curl around her bones as it settled.

Almost as good as sex, she smirked, giving the rock an affectionate pat before she walked away.

---

She stopped at The Kettle on the way home, bought a white mocha to top off the good climb. After a moment’s hesitation, she added an apple tea for Delia. Even if she was still asleep when Callie got home, she could reheat it. It wouldn’t be as good, but hopefully could still minimize any concerned scolding headed Callie’s way for her choice of stress release activity.

Delia was indeed still asleep when she got home. Callie smiled as she set her sister’s drink on one of the end tables that flanked the couch. Between Delia’s Rip van Winkle impersonation and her own insomnia after the finished a job, looked like the Cole girls were headed for another round of ‘What’s a Normal Sleep Cycle? Bingo. Joy.

Nothing to be done about it now. The month’s worth of mail Azalea had been nice enough to neatly pile on the dining room table, however, she could do something about. Taking a sip of her coffee, Callie settled in to start sorting junk mail from the important stuff.

It was the little things that really made it good to be back.

[bigskydreaming]

Thank you again and still for all the help and support! I really truly can not imagine making it through the past couple days without it, considering I spent most of it awake and in the bathroom puking from the constant migraines that come with your head not being happy about its bones not being in the right place. Stress aggravates them, or at least my awareness of them, and because of how little work there is currently and how expensive being broke and disabled in LA is, let’s just say, there’s been stress, lol.

I’m feeling a bit better today, or at least I’m making myself pretend that and act like that since I’ve got another appointment at that clinic where I get my juicy and tasty IV bags of nutrients pumped into me since I barely even CAN eat, physically, which combined with the lack of sleep and the nausea, like, also not a great combination.

So, I mean it when I say your donations and support have absolutely been invaluable, everything from a couple dollars to an anonymous message, like, its all amazing and appreciated and invaluable. Yeah. I already said that, whoops, anyway, BUT I DIGRESS.

That’s about all of an update I have there, lol, so in other news, I should be around more today since like I said, I’m feeling a bit better and have possibly plateau-ed on this latest pain level. (My super-annoying superpower....ever since I was a kid I’ve been able to adapt to increases in pain like a pro. As in, being able to manage/function despite it. Course, I still feel it, but give me a day or two to adjust to a new norm in how much my body hates me currently, and then I can power through).

So, like I said, I should be around more today, and I’ll probably be random as hell. Like I’ve mentioned before, my blog is where I spew literally everything from inane thoughts to fandom feels, since its like.....my only social outlet these past couple years and the only way I get to interact with people who aren’t doctors. Expect no pattern in topics until I find whatever sticks and keeps me focused on it enough to serve as a distraction from, y’know, the broke body and broke bank account.

SO! Absolutely feel free to hit me up about anything and everything. ESPECIALLY if you’ve made a donation or sent me something. Like, I know some people who have sent money don’t even follow me or know me at all and are just generous spirits who saw my post somewhere, but for any of you who have sent any kind of support just cuz you like, like me and my rambles, lol, totally feel free to drop into my messages even on anon and say what kind of posts or content from me you really engage with and would love to see more of. I can’t make any promises or guarantees, unfortunately, given I didn’t expect or plan on crashing so hard these last couple days, bleh, and just....literally, like, writing more of the kind of stuff or posts people who have helped me stay alive is pretty much the only way I have of kinda giving at least something back, so I mean, I am happy to pounce on anything in that direction. 

Again, just can’t make any guarantees given how unpredictable my life is and depending on how many people send requests or prompts or messages, etc, but I don’t delete anything of that nature and I usually get back around to stuff EVENTUALLY. For instance, I’m REALLY hoping to finish up two one-shots today, one that’s focused on Duke, Dick and Cass from that prompt you sent me a couple weeks ago, @zee-gee, and the other uh.....that umm, TW/X-Men fusion you commissioned way longer ago than my pride will allow me to admit in public @camelotpark, lol. And like, those posts you see me making to @russianspacegeckosexparty about the changelings project I talk about a lot, like.....Adam basically just sends me random thoughts and prompts about it all the time, and its like a running thread that’s easy for me to pick back up and sink into whenever I see a new one in my inbox and I’ve got enough spoons at the moment to dig in.

Also have a couple other things I want to respond to today while I have the energy and a destined-to-be-longer-than-it-needs-to-be meta about Dick’s positioning in narratives with various other characters and WHY I think it so usually works out that way, and I’m aiming to keep that more like....musing-esque than rant-errific, but uh, let’s see how that actually goes, lmfao.

Anyway, that’s what I have in mind for today, aside from my going to get my IV buffet at ten and emailing and calling people from listings about rooms to rent, but tbh, I might just end up being even more random and sporadic than usual, if I can’t focus on any of those long enough to stay sufficiently distracted today. (Like, my other annoying superpower as long-time followers have heard before, is my ridiculously fast metabolism. I know, “oh no, I’m so skinny, poor me,” but like....its never been about weight gain or loss for me, its about how fast my body processes various medications, meaning pretty much every painkiller I’ve ever tried is largely useless to me, or at most wears off in a couple hours.....whereas my ADHD meds actually provide me MORE relief from the pain than any of them. Basically, they let me actually focus on something OTHER than pain and not get interrupted/distracted by the occasional pain spike that likes to remind me its there and wants my attention......so I mean, I still feel everything that comes with my head being physically out of whack, but for the hours vyvanse is working for me, coupled with some heavy duty pain meds, I can like.....just sorta....not care about it for awhile. Like, it hasn’t gone away but its more shoved to the back of my mind at least. And all of that, I’m happy to stuff in a closet whenever I can, lol).

And that’s enough rambles for this post, I think. LOLOLOL, as if I have a quota. But yeah. Just wanted to express how much your support has meant and continues to mean, and like.....I’m still here and alive and crossing fingers that I’ll hear about an actual surgery date soon, but in the meanwhile like......I’m kinda stuck in a perpetual Limbo, one that’s largely confined to whatever is in hobbling distance from my bed of the day, and as much as donations help me physically, in remaining able to at least stay that way, just, any and all interactions on here help by keeping me engaged with the world on at least some level, and make it so I have stuff to think or talk about beyond my own situation and how I’m not a super huge fan of that.

(Okay, I shouldn’t say any and ALL interactions are appreciated, since I have my fun little runs of anon hate in my inbox, but I mean, all of the above is why they’re not really a big deal to me and never have been. Its like, dude, my own body has been trying to take me out for the past three years, and you think a few insults from an anonymous stranger are gonna do the trick? LOLOL, please. Tbh, the only real negative effect anon hate has on me is that it makes me a bit more snappish and quick to assume the worst than I’d like, when people @ me in a way that I misread as aggressive or in bad faith. I’m aware that my day-to-day temperment is a lot more irritable and open to fights than I usually like to be, as self-control is kinda a big deal to me, and my situation and stress and other shit kinda keep me constantly operating at a level best described as itchy, and none of that is an excuse for any times I read an interaction wrong and go for the throat. I just mean like.....I’m a very blunt and straight-forward person, and I do appreciate when people take a similar approach to me as it really helps keep those misreads to a minimum. Any time someone wants to engage with me in some way, I promise I am SO much easier to talk to if you just....put it out there, whatever it is. Its the games people play online (and in real life) that just frustrate the hell out of me and...yeah. Again, I’m not saying any of that as an excuse or a request for a free pass any time I fuck up an interaction or cross a line, I’m just saying, if anyone’s held back on interacting with me because they think I might snap at them or mistake it for them trying to start a fight, like......just be direct with me. Honestly, thats just....always gonna be more productive when it comes to me.)

But yeah. So that’s the current state of me and all that jazz. Again, I so appreciate everything everyone’s done to support me, not just these past couple days but over the course of these past three years as well. I notice and remember all of it, and its why even though I rant and complain and am critical about so much in society and fandoms and all that.....I really truly am a believer in the idea that there’s more good in people and the world than bad, and the bad just tends to be louder is all. It was especially loud for me the last couple days, the volume got way jacked up, but the goodwill from you guys has been more than enough to drown it out and give me some reprieve.

Alright, shutting up now. All done. The end.

[hoshizoranoseirei-a]

Hyunki entered the bar completely done with the day eveyone felt his entrance as he walked to the bar. “Can I have a scotch. Clean and make it the best youo have.” He leaned on his arm as the bartender poured his drink. As he waited his thoughts ran past the events of the day and reminded him why he was in the bar to begin with. He could hear the clicking of pool balls and walked over to the tables. “You fellas mind if I join in?” He raised his glass and took a sip from his drink easily swallowing. 

Jae had just needed a calm night. So he’d gone to teh pool hall down the street from his apartment, sipping a bourbon as he played pool by himself. HEaring a voice, the male turned, running a hand through his hair. The table next to him was refusing to let someone join, and he nodded at the male. “You’re free to join me.” he offered, moving to chalk the end of his stick again. 

Hyunki tilted his glass in thanks and approached the table, setting his drink on the side of it. “The name’s Hyunki. You?” He chalked his own stick and looked at the man in front of him. He was far beyond the word handsome and he held himself like he knew it. Hyunki could tell this would be fun and settled in for a good time.

Jae found the other greatly attractive, and he could see the confidence. With a grin, he took another drink of his bourbon. “Jae.” He answered. “You play much?” He asked. Pool was something he’d started a year ago at his company. He wasn’t the best, but he was good.

Hyunki knew better than to fall for attractive men without knowing which way they swung. ‘Been ther, done that.’ He thought as he watched Jae sip his drink. “Not really, I spend most of my time in the office. I’m a biochemist so not much time to hang out at bars. I just had a bad day today is all. I don’t even know how to play really, those guys missed a chance for free money.” He spoke the last part loud enough that the other table could hear. He shrugged and took another drink of his drink. “How does this work again?”

The halfling smiled at the other male, giving an obvious once over. “I play a little. Mostly during long days.” he mused. “I don’t play for money, mostly for fun.”  he answered, going to set up the balls in the triangle. Taking the white ball, he set it at the opposite end and lined the stick up to make a shot. “Just make the white ball hit another to make it in a pocket.” he said, eyes lining up and taking the shot. The balls broke with a loud crack, scattering among the table, though none made it into the slots. “The first one to make a certain style of the balls shoots to get those in. As long as you make shots, you can go until you miss.” he explained, twirling the stick around his hand before going to take another drink. “You make a shot with the other player’s ball and it’s their turn. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna hit whatever. I don’t care. I just want to let off some steam.” Hyunki sipped his drink again and sat on the side of the table. “Sorry if that bothers you, I could leave you alone if it does.” He let out a sigh and thought back to why he was here in the first place. He had been working on a new project with his boss when he had seen the one person that made him want to drink until he was numb. The one person who knew he wasn’t straight. The one and only person Hyunki had embarrassed himself n front of. Hyunki swallowed the rest of his drink and turned his attention back to the person at the table with him. Jae was better looking than Hangyeom but it wasn’t just that. Something about Jae was different and Hyunki liked it, though he refused to believe that was the case. 

A fight broke out at the bar and Hyunki winced as glasses and bottles were being broken everywhere. “Oops, my bad. Should’ve been a bit more careful.” With a deep breath he centered his emotions and brought any residuele bad energy back to himself. “My fault.” He mumbled under his breath, smoothing out the few wrinkles in his shirt. He looked back at Jae and smiled. “Sorry.”

Jae watched the other, shrugging. “No big deal. I could use some company.” He felt the surge of energy, eyes briefly flickering around the pupil. He tilted his head as there was suddenly a fight, then hummed thoughtfully as it suddenly stopped. He subconsciously fiddled with the protection bracelet his father had made and given him the entire time, eyes watching Hyunki. “Are you okay?” he wondered aloud. He moved to stand closer to the table. “It looks like you might need more than one game of pool.” he mused, eyes glancing towards the bar where the mess was being cleaned up. 

Hyunki chuckled a bit. “Yeah, maybe. Real bad day.” Hyunki raised an eyebrow at Jae when he spotted the bracelet. “A protection band? I wear mine as a anklet.” He lifted his slacks just enough to see the item decorating his ankle. “Easier to trick people when needed and I don’t get yelled at when I’m at work.” He smiled a bit and dropped his pants leg so that it brushed his dress shoes lightly. Hyunki mindlessly pulled out a jade hairpin and spun it between his fingers. It had been passed down through his family for generations and given that he was an only child he inherited it instead of a female. It served as a second nature to spin the hair piece when he thought he might lose control, he’d been doing it since college. “Pool might not help at all.”

Jae gave a glance at his wrist. “My father made it for me when I was young.” he replied. “I never take it off.” he shrugged. The bracelet was the only consistent jewelry in his career, though he did have a love for earrings. He watched the other man for a moment. “Crowds don’t usually help after a bad day. The park is quiet and just about empty this time of night. We could go there?” he asked. “Sometimes fresh air and quiet helps me out.”

Hyun-Ki shrugged. “Might as well.” After paying for their drinks, he followed Jae out of the bar and to the park walking along the paths until they came to a bench. They sat down and Hyun-Ki let out a loud sigh. He pulled his legs up in front of him. “It’s always the people you least expect to see that show up out of nowhere.” He wished he still had a drink and that he could just drown everything in alcohol so he could forget, at least for a little while.

Jae walked alongside Hyunki, letting himself relax at the familiar surroundings of nature. The witch half of his blood liked nature the most, it relaxed and gave him the energy he needed in his day to day. Moving to sit next to the other, he leaned back, hands tucked into his jacket until Hyunki spoke. Looking at the other, he tilted his head, red hair falling into his face. “Ex, or something more complicated?” He asked.

“More like the only guy I have ever fallen in love with but found out he was straight after completely embarrassing myself in front of him.” He spun the jade hairpin again. “Oh, and he had a girlfriend too.” He laughed at himself. “I spent the next two years drinking my problems away before refocusing on my degree. I never expected him to show up at my job and start asking questions about me and my life right now. Plus I have to work on my current project with him because his company is helping with the costs and such.” Hyun-Ki really wished he had chosen a different line of work but he loved what he did even if that meant that he had to work with the one person who had seen him at his weakest. He stopped spinning the hairpin and pointed it at Jae. “So I would say more complicated than an ex.” 

Jae whistled low. “Yeah, I would definitely call that more complicated.” he mused, looking away from Hyunki as he nodded. “I would say ignore him, but honestly, work puts us all in a situation we don’t like at one point or another.” He licked his lips as he thought. He had been put in several awkward positions given his own sexuality, being one of few bisexual idols out caused a few awkward situations. Somehow, sitting with Hyunki didn’t feel awkward. “A game of pool may not be a whole lot, but maybe some fun that’s a little more exerting would help?” he offered, slowly looking back at the other. 

Hyun-Ki bit his lip, picking up on what his companion was implying. He turned his head and took in every detail he could that made up the man next to him. “Depends on what you have in mind.” Hyun-Ki placed the hairpin he still held back into his pocket and turned to face Jae fully, a smirk decorating his face as his eyebrow shot up. “What exactly is it you want, mister?” 

Jae gave a an arched brow, cocking his head to one side. “I mean, you’re absolutely beautiful. And I’m sure we could both use some stress relief from time to time. I don’t see why we can’t help each other.” he offered. “My place isn’t far. We can switch numbers after and hook up whenever one or both of us needs a release.” He shrugged, moving to brush some of Hyunki’s hair from his face. “What do you say?”

Hyun-Ki stood up and brushed his shirt to get the non-existent wrinkles out of it. He turned to Jae and waved his arm in a lead the way manner. “After you my good sir.” Hyun-Ki smiled as Jae walked in front of him, gladly watching as he walked away a bit before following. ��Where exactly do you live? Exactly how far is not far?” Hyun-Ki asked bumping lightly into Jae as he walked side by side with him. 

Jae paused when he noticed Hyunki was slightly behind him, turning to look back. “I live a few blocks away. Had a long day at work and didn’t want to go home yet, so I went to the bar.” he answered, glancing at the other as they walked the path back to where his loft was. “Happy I did, too.” he mused, laughing quietly as Hyunki nudged him. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Hyun-Ki nodded and silently walked next to Jae as they progressed to their destination. He was beginning to second guess his decision but pushed any doubts to the back of his mind, just wanting to forget about Hangyeom for the night. He fell slightly behind Jae as his thoughts wondered, merely following Jae back to his home as an instinct. When Jae stopped Hyun-Ki almost bumped into him “Sorry.”

Jae noticed the way Hyunki went quiet, but didn’t comment on it, moving to unlock the door and turn the living room light on. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hmm?” he asked, reachign up to run his fingers through Hyunki’s hair. 

Hyunki leaned forward and whispered against Jae’s ear. “Do you really want to know?” He din’t really plan on telling Jae what he was thinking, he was buying himself some time to think of a convincing lie. He was not going to screw up this chance to get his thoughts of Hangyeom to vanish. He ran a hand down Jae’s chest, letting come to rest on the other’s hip as he thought frantically for a good lie.

[bxstiae]

HOW I RUN MY BLOG

SPEED: fluctuates on my mood. I’m relatively fast? like usually same day reply fast. sometimes it takes me a few days. know that the long it stays in my drafts, the longer i will take on it. my all time record is about 3 years. while granted it doesn’t take that long, don’t be surprised about it. best case scenario, it takes me a couple of weeks, i dont like having things fester. i also sometimes forget too! you are more than welcome to remind me if it seems like i have but please don’t make it a habit. in regards to response time on pms/discord -- short turnover rate. I usually respond to it within the hour. usually within seconds/minutes actually. if i am awake that is. unless im offline and in my happy place, i tend to log out of discord to get away from people when im overwhelmed. blog wise, i dont have him on my app. so messages are only when im on my laptop or have time to check on chrome mobile.  

REPLIES: i dont like drafting them. my dash is slow enough that i can scroll down to it. i will draft it though if i need to. length wise, im an avid writer. i write A LOT. they can get very lengthy at times. i write with a bit of prose -- that prose can get very HEAVY depending on my partners as well. i also format as well. i like heavier formatting without losing the quality of the writing. i dont like one-liners. you will see me with at least two paras or more. please know that i am dyslexic though when it comes to writing, and i have a bad habit of rereading my stuff after i post. so mistakes && errors are a thing for me. i try to catch it when i am rereading as im going through to format the posts. but sometimes things get missed. you are more than welcome to fix some if it is a bad spelling mistake ( better to ask first tho cause i spell with a brit keyboard -- and i specifically choose certain words to be spelt a specific way. )

STARTERS: when i post the starter call, any mutual ( && i really mean ANY of you ) can like it. this goes for if you follow me on multiple blogs. we interact already on one blog? by all means we can interact with one another on your other blog. but if you do, it gives me free reign to do whatever i want. look for my tags to see what i say too. they usually are a key factor in regards to my thought process. i try to get everybody done within reasonable time. dont worry i will never not make a mutual a starter if they like the call. i usually go for the first interaction/meeting with the muse though. if that doesn’t float your boat then you can message me about it. i normally don’t message people in regards to starters because A) im tired, B) i expect you to come to me.

INBOX: inbox is absolutely open to anybody! in fact, if i post a prompt, i ask that you send something in. even if we never interacted! im more versed into throwing the muse into a pre-established relationship. with the inbox, i will sometimes go to you because of that. i really do love to write, && the inbox is a perfect way to send something in without having any strings attached in regards to replies. like i said im an avid writer. i always want to write. sometimes people are slow and i get that. since im faster, i have no problem in doing inbox stuff for you to develop interaction ( aside from plotting ). best way to actually enjoy character interaction for me tbh. cause sometimes threading be hard okay?

SELECTIVITY: i am biased, i will say it now. i have preference over people i talk to ( who i consider my friends ), or people that i like. but that doesnt mean i will blatantly ignore you. people should know that if you talk to me, then the chances are i will give you more attention. sometimes i just click or vibe with people okay? in regards to following. i am on the heavy side of mutuals only and i prefer a slower dash. i give about a week for people to follow back, or ample enough time for them to follow. there will be some people that i will be fine if they arent mutuals though as i like their content. that being said, i try to be super fair to everybody. i give people an equal chance. if i follow you it means i want to interact with you ( there are super rare exceptions ). but go too long without interacting, then i will unfollow/softblock. im not a number for you. i have feelings. and, yes, i will, at random, unfollow those who either dont make me comfortable anymore, or i need time away from them. or im just not getting that vibe anymore. 

WISHLIST: see here && here for some stuff i want. i love his pokemon verse i have. i also love his FE verse i have as well. i have a FE3H AU as well but i will naturally throw him into FEH or FE3H for that verse. i have plotted with a friend in regards to an echoes verse as well. honestly. i just want a lot of stuff for him. i want more wolf interactions. i kinda favour his beast forme anyway. but i also want interactions with the language differences. there is a language barrier with him! but i want those interactions cause he understands you! i have that hc somewhere dug in my blog. gotta find it. other interactions? i want a midna to interact with. link && the links AU?? also what does a man gotta do around here to get people to discuss plots.

HONEST NOTE: if you think im an elitist, then find your way out of the door -- youre probably right and i dont want you here. ive been here for a really long time && i know what i want. all jokes aside though, im tired of people being intimidated by me for different reasons. some people think its my aesthetic ( when really im not that bad ). others are intimidated by the sheer amount of writing i do? like okay?? kindly fuck off please. i write for stress relief. i write to have fun. my idea of fun is writing a lot. if you have a problem with that then sorry but i dont want you here. i have a passion for my muses and if you dont want to hear it, then i dont have time for your complaining. theres an unfollow button. i have a journalism degree so... yea. but really. im just really tired okay. im actually a very sweet person and i wear my heart on my sleeve. anybody who knows me well enough can tell you that. i hate being ignored tbh, so if i find energy && time to like talk to you, at least acknowledge me by saying thank you. btw im not really that much of an an elitist -- i just LOOK like i have a hard shell, but im actually super soft and squishy.

Tagged by: nobody I stole from @pristinette​ Tagging: you do you fam. just @ me as per usual cause pretend i tagged you.

[hyucksong]

hibiscus. | huang renjun

hey! my first real nct dream fanfic, that isn’t a little baby post or smth, hope you babies love it :)

summary: You give Renjun a hibiscus with every planned meeting you two have. Rejnun doesn’t know why, or what the flower means, but he finds himself curious when he finds out that almost every flower has a meaning. 

warning: Some cursing, :P

word count: 1.8 K

   Renjun smiled at the flower in his hand. He couldn’t help it, after all. It was instinctual for him to smile whenever he saw you, because no matter when you saw him, as long as it was planned, you’d give him a flower. And if you two happened to run into each other on accident, you’d say to him, “Sorry, I’ll give you two flowers the next time we see each other!” And lo and behold, the next time you two saw each other, you’d give him two more flowers. 

   Admittedly, he didn’t know what the name of the flower was, but he didn’t really care, he just appreciated the sentiment. (and the pounding heart you gave him, but he’d never say that out loud) 

   He was walking back to the dorm he shared with the other NCT DREAM members, and saw Jaemin standing outside of the door. 

   “Hey Jaemin, what’s up?” He casually asked, walking past Jaemin to go and unlock the door. Jaemin’s face lit up when he saw Renjun, throwing an arm around his fellow member’s narrow shoulders when he got closer. “Nothing, I just forgot my keys, that’s all. How was - oh? Is that what I think it is?” Jaemin stopped mid-sentence, eyeing the plant in Renjun’s clenched hand. Renjun smiled and scratched the back of his neck shyly. 

   “Yeah, it’s another flower that Y/N gave me. It’s pretty isn’t it?” Renjun said, finally turning the key to open the door, and he slowly pushed open the door to walk in. He kicked off his shoes and walked through the front entrance to the living room where the rest of the members were lounging around doing various  things. 

   “Oh~, so she gave you another flower.” Jaemin sang teasingly, before walking into the living room and plopping down next to Jeno before whining to him about not letting him in when he knocked on the door.

   “I thought you were just trying to get our attention, sorry.” Jeno nonchalantly said, tapping his finger to his screen repeatedly. Jaemin rose his eyebrow. “By locking myself out of the house?” Jeno simply shrugged, caring about winning his game rather than comforting Jaemin’s pouting face.

   Renjun was secretly relieved that the topic changed from you and your flowers due to Jaemin’s whining. He walked past the members as inconspicuously as he could and opened the door to his room. He let out a huge sigh and took off his jacket, throwing it on his bed before going over to the windowsill and putting the new flower in with the rest of them.

   He softly stuffed the flower on the side and caressed the others that were laying peacefully in the disturbed water, watching at the sun shone off of them prettily. He didn’t know why you always gave him such pretty flowers. he almost felt as if they were going to a waste because he didn’t even know what type they were. Every single one of them were pink flowers with a very prominent nectar stem sticking up from the middle of the flower, and though it seemed like it would be a defining feature for a flower, Renjun wasn’t well versed in the language of plants. 

   The brown-haired boy scoffed to himself. “Flowers can’t mean stuff. Other than a rose, I guess.” He quickly shook the thought out of his head and changed into comfortable clothes before throwing himself on is bed and unlocking his phone to browse and relax. That was, until he noticed he had an unread message from you.

   His heart leapt into his throat and he let out a sigh of affection, not being able to ignore the feeling you gave him. 

   bean: hey there renjunnie! i had a random thought after i gave you the flower today,,,

   renjunnie: what was it y/n?

   Renjun felt himself cringe at the awkwardness of his text, wishing that he was smooth like Johnny or Ten, or funny like Haechan, or old and mature like Mark. but after thinking for a second,  he wiped the last thought form his head. Mark was more awkward with girls than Renjun was by tenfold.  

   bean: well, you know that i give you the same type of flower every time, right?

   renjunnie: really? i thought they were different 

   bean: oh? i guess you’re missing a few brain cells then

   bean: stop hanging out with dong-dumb, he’s ruining your brain :\

   He let out a laugh at your remark. Though you were were very cute, every person knew that the good-girl persona you put up was only for your idol-group during promotion, even the fans knew now. It was something that you only really did when you felt like being ironic. Your sass was natural, and in Renjun’s opinion, cute and attractive.

   bean: anyway, wanna know what they’re called?

   renjunnie: yeah, hit me with it baby

   bean: ???baby? holy??? shit???

   Renjun practically dug a grave for himself at that moment. He had a habit of texting things on impulse, but he never thought it would get him in deep shit. Of course, calling you baby wasn’t the end of the world, but he was sure you hated it. Why? No reason, he just felt a sneaking suspicion. He turned off his phone and plunged it in his pocket, before walking to the living room where he fellow friends were before he saw (or think he’d see) a slurry of angry texts from you.

   No one said anything when he fell lifelessly on the couch, not until he let out a groan filled with absolute agony. Chenle gave him the side-eye, “Really? That loudly?” He teased, ready for a comeback, but only being met with silence. Chenle looked down at Renjun after the unusual quietness, and was shocked when he was met with more dead than usual eyes. 

   “What happened, hyung?” He gasped, putting his phone down and turning towards his distressed friend. Renjun sighed and lifted himself up to sit properly on the couch, his sigh attracting the rest of the members attention. “Well, you know Y/N and her flowers, right?”

   “Yeah, what about it?” Jisung asked, without much interest in the conversation. His question was followed with Jaemin’s soft inquiry of “yeah, wonder what type of flowers they are”

   “Exactly!” Renjun yelled towards Jaemin’s soft question, throwing his head back on the couch. Haechan’s previously un-included self suddenly joined in. “Oooh, teen angst?”

   “Shut up, i’m 20.” Renjun spat, before looking at his phone’s black screen.    “Well, Y/N texted me saying that she thought about something after giving me the flower today, and I was like, “spill the tea, sis”, and she said “haha lol wanna know what type of flower it is?” aND THEN I SAID, “hit me with it, bABY.” I SAID THAT. I CALLED HER BABY. WE AREN’T EVEN DATING.” He screeched, burying his head in his hands, wanting to die right then and there.

   Haechan looked judgmentally at him, wanted to make fun of him due to his member’s unreasonable amount of stress, but seeing the pure amount of suffering on Renjun’s face made him think twice. Which wasn’t enough to stop him.

   “And? Don’t girls like being called that?” Haechan said, looking at his nails sassily. “Well, yeah - but not when you aren’t dating them! She probably hates me, oh god.” Renjun muttered to himself, ruffling his hair which tranlsated to wanting to throw yourself off a cliff in the language of anxiety and stress.

   “Hm, possibly. Telling from the amount of texts you’re receiving from her, it’s either that and she’s asking for a restraining order, or telling you to stop being stupid and kiss her already. I vote either, but eh.” Jeno mused, scrolling through his Instagram feed. Jaemin slapped his shoulder lightly. 

   “What?” Renjun whispered, before looking at his phone go on and off three times, telling him that someone was rapidly texting him. Gulping, Renjun unlocked his phone and went to his messaging app. 

   bean: huang renjun??? where art thou?

   bean: golden hands prince???

   bean: oh well, i’ll just tell you i guess

   bean: it’s a hibiscus! they’re my fav flower and i started giving them to you because i thought the meaning really suited you, so you should look it up, and then decide if calling me baby is something you wanna keep doing or not.

   bean: and if it isn’t, then i mean i guess that’s cool i guess i mean, yeah it’s fine i guess yeah

   Renjun felt more confused than anything, and looked at his phone with his head cocked to the side. He then decided to take your advice and search up the meaning of the flower, something he was surprised flowers had. 

   Part of him was expecting a flower that meant “i hate you lol, also i’m getting a restraining order on you :/” So, when he opened up Google and found the real meaning of the flower, he felt himself melt into the couch with relief.

   Hibiscus: Delicate Beauty

   Renjun lifted his head, and gave the look you give to someone when you just survive 8 AP tests in a row, a look of wanting the sweet release of death but also a look of ‘thank god’. 

   However, it took him a good five minutes before he realized what the meaning of the flower meant for him and Y/N. He stopped moving, before he reopened his text app faster than Jaemin runs to Jeno after not seeing him for a week. 

   renjunnie: holy sh - you what?

   bean: hey there, it’s year 2550, you’ve responded quite late. there are now robotic boyfriends and no need to breed with mere flesh

   renjunnie: im,,,going to ignore that

   renjunnie: but???? you??? think i’m a delicate beauty???

   bean: oh yeah, yeah lol

   bean: it’s okay if you don’t like that, i’ll stop if you want me too 

   renjunnie: nO! i really like it

   renjunnie: like,,,really like it

   renjunnie: like, i wanna call you baby for the rest of my life-like it

   bean: oh

   bean: i mean, a mi tambien

   bean: um,,,i’ve gotta go but i wanna talk about this later with you, i really do, renjun

   bean: i’ll talk to you about it later okay? we’ll skype, i promise :)

   Despite feeling a little disappointed, Renjun smiled. The feeling of reciprocated feelings was greater than anything he’d ever felt, especially after feeling that you hated him.

   renjunnie: alright :)

   bean: also, i’ll be giving you an ambrosia flower when i see you next :)

   Renjun quickly pulled up his Google once again, and searched up the term ‘ambrosia’, he found ‘food of the gods’, but he doubted that she’d be calling him gold-like, so he added ‘flower’ to the search, and what he found lit a bigger fire in his heart than the hibiscus.

   Ambrosia: A Greek symbol for ‘your love is returned’.

[lynneshobbydomain]

87 for kaedexmaki !

(Hey Anon thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy this one. I think the list was for the dialogue prompt list so I used that one. If it was a different prompt, please don’t hesitate to let me know!)

Kiss Me To Make Him Jealous

Rated: G

Summary: It’s practical exam week and everyone’s stressing about what they can do. Kaede decides to take matters into her own hands and arranges a date, not knowing how it would end up.

With practical exams coming up, everyone in Hope’s Peak were doing their best to show off their talents to the extreme. Maki was still waiting on seeing which Ultimate exam she was supposed to be in since if she was going to use a cover, she had to be good at both. She kind of hoped that the school would show her mercy and make her take care of the kids. She didn’t like them, but it was better than getting ragged on by Kokichi about whatever mark she was going to go after. She didn’t take pride in being an assassin anymore than she took pride in being a child caregiver. She…wanted a different path and it sucked that she was stuck on this one till further notice.

Kaede was just as busy as the rest of them. She was trying to figure out the hardest piano piece she could play just to keep herself in the school. Maki had heard her practice in the dining room, out on public pianos, and other places. She could hear the rhythmic tapping on the desk when she spoke to her classmates and the tapping of her pencil against the notebooks when she was thinking. Just hearing her play music was enough to get Maki out of her head even for a minute. 

“Maki.” Kaede spoke breaking into Maki’s thoughts. She glanced over at her girlfriend curiously with a head tilt. The classroom was practically empty save for those whose studies required the academic kind. Korekiyo and Rantaro were busy in the back corner, discussing different cultures and how they could use it for their exams. Miu and Kiibo were no where to be found and Maki found relief in that. She felt bad for the poor robot boy though. She was certain that whatever practical exam Miu was going to do, she was going to drag Kiibo into it too. “Let’s go on a date.”

“Now?” It would be a good idea. There was nothing Maki could do, and Kaede was undoubtedly getting tired of playing the same piece over and over and over again. They needed the break otherwise they’d burn out before the exam could even begin. Maki didn’t even know what exam she should be studying for yet. “Okay.” She wasn’t going to question it. That was Saihara’s job. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and grabbed her bag. “That might be for the best.”

“I thought so. You’ve been looking not yourself lately.” Kaede commented and Maki pursed her lips together. “I was thinking about our favorite cafe, is that okay?”

“I’m fine with that.” It was familiar. It was simple. It was cheap. Maki hauled her bag up onto her shoulders and let Kaede lead her out of the school. “How is your practicing going?”

“I think I might have it down pat by now. I know that the technique is going to be a little difficult to maneuver.” Kaede mused, “But I think that if I get the emotions down correctly, I could play it flawlessly. That’s the hard part. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a love song or if it’s a song about yearning. I mean I could do both, but I want to make an impact, you know? I don’t want anyone in the audience to miss out on something because I overlooked it.”

Maki nodded slowly. Kaede wasn’t allowed to tell her the title of the song until the performance so she wasn’t surprised that she was keeping it vague. No one was really supposed to know what the other was going to do for exams. It was cheating otherwise. “It sounds difficult.” She offered.

“Do you know yet what Ultimate they’re going to test you on?” Kaede bit her lower lip as she glanced at Maki.

“Not a clue.” Maki sighed softly as they turned a corner. “It could be anything.”

“Hopefully they won’t make you wait last minute like last year. I thought you were going to murder the school board for that.” Kaede winced, and Maki sighed louder. That had been a disaster. The school board didn’t know what Ultimate they wanted to test her on either, and threw her in the same exam as Ikusaba. Not that the Ultimate Soldier cared much, but it was nice to know when a sudden teammate was going to appear. 

It helped with planning and tactics, as well as the usual “don’t get yourself killed”. Not that they really thought things through anyway. They reached the cafe and Maki opened the door, letting Kaede go in first before following her. Their usual table was free, and they both made a beeline for it.

Kaede gave her a huge grin as she slid into the booth. They both liked looking out the window. Sometimes Kaede could chat for hours about music and the different types of songs that she played and Maki would give her undivided attention, but there were times were they were comfortable in just watching people go by. Sometimes they’d even narrate what they thought was happening in their life. She opened her mouth to say something when she closed it and her brow furrowed.

Maki took note of Kaede’s sudden expression and she casually glanced over her shoulder to see that there was a man at a table with shaggy brown hair. Across from him was a girl with lime green hair and a pretty smile. She glanced back at Kaede who was fiddling with her skirt now. “Something wrong?” She asked, her tone clipped. 

“N-no it’s nothing.” Kaede quickly tried to shoot that down, but it was too fast for Maki’s taste. The woman raised an eyebrow up and watched Kaede shrink into a ball, much like Saihara did when he was caught trying to lie out of something stupid. It was really amusing to her how alike these two were. “It’s just…that’s my ex-boyfriend.”

From before Hope’s Peak. Maki nodded slowly, understanding her features. Kaede didn’t talk much about her past relationships and she respected the privacy. “Well, kiss me so they see.”

“Wait what?” Kaede startled a little and she lowered her voice. “Maki are you sure? That’s…” An Ouma thing to do. Maki was hanging out with the gremlin way too much if she was agreeing with that statement. “I don’t mind-”

Maybe it was all the stress of not knowing what she was supposed to be doing. Maybe she was feeling a little uncertain herself. Maybe it was all of the above. Maki got out from her side of the booth and got into Kaede’s. She wrapped an arm around her girlfriend’s waist and paused. She watched her expression for a moment before leaning in and kissing her flush against the lips. She felt Kaede gasp against her lips, before sinking into it. 

“Again?” Maki murmured as she pulled away and Kaede nodded, allowing herself to be brought back into the kiss. 

She missed the waitress ignoring the table for now. She also missed the looks of surprise on the man and the woman at the table. She missed how uncomfortable they must have gotten, watching someone in plain view being kissed. She missed them leaving. When she pulled away, she didn’t miss the rise and fall of Kaede’s chest. She didn’t miss the smile that was playing on her girlfriend’s lips. She didn’t miss how her heart was thudding wildly in her ribcage. 

“Thank you.” Kaede murmured softly. “I wasn’t trying to to use you to make them jealous or anything…”

“It’s fun to make people uncomfortable sometimes. I think I see why Ouma does it.” Maki replied easily. “But if you tell him that I’ll kill you.”

Kaede laughed, and it was the best sound Maki heard all day. “I promise. I won’t tell him at all.”

[lihikainanea]

What if Tiger had a pregnancy scare, it was from Heartbreak Boy just after they had broken up. She texted Bill, asking him to come over asap, which he could tell was serious. So when he walked in to see her genuinely crying, falling to his arms and explaining the story. He’d assure her that even if the boy wasn’t in the picture for what might happen, he would always be with her and by her side. When they find it was a false alarm, what he said doesn’t leave her.

Now THIS I can get behind.I swear, people say babies and I just laugh nervously and slowly back out of the room, trying to keep my legs crossed the whole time. But pregnancy scares, yes, this I can do, because I am literally that girl who will go like a year without sex and if for some reason I’m late–I automatically think I’m pregnant. Apparently I also think I’m capable of some degree of immaculate conception. 

Miracles, friends–we believe heartily in them (even if THAT miracle would be a fucking nightmare for me).

***

It was a staring match that you knew was pointless; but you had been at it for the better part of half an hour and the only thing it had done was increase your anxiety with every step, every pace back and forth in front of the sealed box on your sink countertop.

You continued to pace in front of it, picking it up and putting it back down, the face of a smiling woman on the front seemingly mocking you. You should just get it over with, so that at least you knew—either way. And you would deal with the outcome—either way.

But every time you thought you were ready, you grabbed the box only to fling it down again as if it scalded you. Groaning in frustration, you scrubbed your hands down your face and reached for your phone. You needed help, support. You needed courage.

You cleared your throat as the phone rang in your ear, trying to get your heart rate under control. Bill picked up on the 3rd ring, his voice nearly drowned out by the loud chatter in the background.

“Hey kid,” he said, “What’s up?”

“Hey, yeah, hi,” you stuttered and you knew he picked up on it right away, “Where are you?”

“It’s boy’s night,” he reminded you, “Everything ok?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, you had completely forgotten that he was with his friends at a bar that night.

“Oh uh, yeah, sorry,” you continued to stutter and trip on your words, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine. What’s going on, tiger?”

You bit your lip, pinching your eyes shut.

“Nothing….give me a ring tomorrow. Have fun!” You tried to sound lighthearted and you knew it failed when you heard him telling people to let him through, and suddenly the background got much quieter.

“Are you okay, kid?”

You sniffled, louder than you wanted to, and you knew he was on alert.

“Tiger, talk to me. What’s happening? Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“Can you, um,” you sniffled again, a few tears falling down your cheeks, “Can you come over?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt I just…I need you here. It’s not urgent or anything…” you mumbled the last bit, feeling terrible for having ruined his night and still trying to convince yourself that a possible, as of yet unconfirmed pregnancy really wasn’t that big of a deal. Women got pregnant all the time, right?

Perhaps not by way of a rebound fuck with the very same guy that had broken their heart weeks earlier, but that was a minor detail. You wouldn’t tell Bill that part, he had been such a support to you in getting over your breakup and you couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing him. Even though part of you knew you wouldn’t even have to say anything—Bill would just know.

You moved the phone away from your ear as you heard him whistle loudly for a cab.

“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me, yeah?” He asked.

“No it’s okay I need to…I need to do something. I’ll see you soon okay?” You heard him sigh, not liking the idea, but you said goodbye and hung up before he could protest.

Leaning on your washer, you stared down the pregnancy test, still neatly wrapped in its box, and tried to quell the urge to throw up.

He arrived 15 minutes later and you still hadn’t moved, the keys in the lock jolting you out of your trance.

“Tiger?” He called through your hallway.

“In here,” you heard his long, hurried footsteps make their way to the bathroom. He appeared in your doorway, looking you up and down and quickly assessing the situation. His eyes moved from your crossed arms, your hunched shoulders, and followed your line of sight to the small box perched on your sink. Hiding his shock, he met your eyes and moved slowly in front of you. He ran his hands up and down your arms soothingly.

“What’s going on?” He asked gently.

“I’m late,” you muttered, chewing on your nails. 

“How late?”

“Late, Bill,” you huffed in frustration. He nodded, squeezing your biceps gently before turning around and grabbing the box. He didn’t ask the question you thought he would, and you mused bitterly that it was because he likely already knew the answer.

“Did you take one already?” He flipped the box over in his hands, and you shook your head.

“You need to take one to know for sure, kid,” he said, opening the box and taking the little booklet of instructions out.

“I fucking know that, Bill. That’s usually how pregnancy tests work,” you snapped, but he didn’t flinch. You snatched the instructions out of his hand, throwing them back on the sink as you buried your face in your hands.

“Kid—hey, look at me,” he pried your hands from your face, bending to look you in the eye.

“Whatever happens, and whatever you decide either way, I’m with you, okay? You know that,” He cupped your face when you kept trying to look away from his gaze.

“You’re not alone in this, you have me. Always. And we’ll figure it out either way, no matter what.”

You nodded, sniffling, and he reached back for the test, placing it in your hands.

“Do you want me to hold the stick?”

You cringed, curling your lip in disgust.

“Ugh, Bill that’s gross. No. But can you…can you go get my tiger?”

He smiled his lopsided grin, kissing your cheek before going to retrieve your stuffed animal from your bed. He wiggled it in front of you and you squished it to your chest, before he exited the bathroom and closed the door.

“You have 2 minutes kid, get it done,” he called from the other side of the doorway. You took a deep breath, unpacking the test and getting settled, trying to hold the stick right.

Once you were done you placed it in the plastic cup, washing your hands and opening the door to see Bill leaning on the opposite wall.

“How long does it need?” He asked, taking out his phone.

“It says 3 minutes,” you mumbled, putting it away in a cupboard so you wouldn’t stare at it agonizingly. He set the timer on his phone before placing it on the sink. He walked to you, pulling your crossed arms away from your chest and wrapping them around his waist instead. He cupped your face in his hands, bringing your eyes to his.

“Tiger, I mean it. No matter which way this goes, and what you decide to do with whichever way it goes, I’m here every step of the way. Okay?” His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently, and you let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“I know,” you nodded, squeezing his waist, “And…thank you.”

“I’m going to be Uncle Bill like, a hundred times in my life,” he grinned, “What’s a hundred and one?”

You leaned into him for a hug and he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back soothingly.

“I’m sorry I ruined boy’s night,” you mumbled into his chest, and he shushed you.

“Why are you so good with awkward shit anyway? You always—” the blaring of the timer he set cut you off and you jumped. He quickly silenced it and looked at you.

“You ready, kid?” He asked.

“I can’t…I can’t do this. You do it,” you grabbed your stuffed toy again, sitting on the ledge of your bath tub and squeezing it tight.

“You sure?”

“Just fucking do it Bill please,” you bounced your knees anxiously, and he leaned to give you one last kiss on the cheek before opening the cupboard door. He took his time, looking at the stick, glancing back at the instructions, looking at the stick again.

“Bill,” you shrieked when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he actually jumped.

“You’re not pregnant, tiger.”

“I’m not?” You shot up from the tub, grabbing the stick out of his hands and staring at it. A small but very distinctive line—just one line—appeared in the middle of the test window, and the sigh of relief that you let out could have deflated you on the spot.

“You might be late because of stress or something else, if you want to see a doctor I can call my—”

“Shhhhh,” you stood on your tiptoes, holding two fingers against his mouth to silence him, “I need to do something first.”

You left the bathroom, making your way to the living room and Bill heard the distinctive pop of an uncorked bottle a few seconds later. Following in your footsteps, he rounded the corner to see you taking two giant gulps from the bottle of vodka you kept on your bar cart.

“To no babies,” you grimaced and raised the bottle in cheers, knocking back another giant glug before wiping your mouth and offering it to him.

He grinned, taking the bottle and chugging down a hefty shot from it.

“To staying Uncle Bill only a hundred times, then.”

Two days later,  you would shake him awake in the middle of the night and loudly inform him that you got your period. In his sleepy haze he high-fived you, slightly missing your hand, before you doubled over in pain from a cramp. He shuffled out of bed sleepily, bumping into the wall and the doorframe, as he went to get you a hot water bottle.

“Hurray to no babies,” he grumbled as he heard you whine again in pain.

[petuniatom]

No. 1 Party Anthem [2] | College!Tom AU

Pairing: College!DJ!Bartender/Barista!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You’re coming up on your last year of college, grappling with finally getting ready for the actual “adult” world and being in two majors you’re not crazily passionate about. When you’re in the middle of a stressful essay at your favorite local coffee shop/upstairs bar, Dommo’s, you meet Tom Holland, a barista and bartender.

You slowly get to know each other over sangria, and soon enough manage to slip your way into his world where the days don’t usually end until about 5 a.m., music is everything, and uncertainty is your best friend.

A story about late night laments, sangria, and a whole lot of growing up.

SERIES MASTERLIST | Ch. 1

Word count: 5.8K

A/N: Hello! Long time no post! Here’s the long awaited update. It’s a little bit more exposition here, but part three is when it starts getting a little bit more spicy. Primarily, we’re focusing on watching the reader developing more of her other friendships here. But stay tuned for pt. 3 which will be coming very soon!

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just go to Dommo’s,” you whined.

You’d been waiting nearly an hour in line outside of Over & Easy with Tony and Jacob. The day before, you made them promise to get mimosas with you Saturday morning, following their late-night adventures and your Friday night essay-writing. While Over & Easy was one of the best spots in town for brunch food, its popularity meant usually there was a battle for those wanting to get inside.

Jacob and Tony, rather than accepting your quiet suggestion to head over to Dommo’s, were insistent that Over & Easy was the best idea for today. Though it was bound to be busy, Tony was craving their french toast and Jacob said their mimosas were better deals anyway. (After all, Saturdays usually meant pitchers for $5, so he wasn’t wrong.)

“You just went there yesterday!” Tony said. “And we rarely come to Over & Easy.”

“C’mon, it’s good to do something different every once and a while,” Jacob said, nudging you.

“Well, it’s just for a place that’s named Over & Easy it just seems to be the exact opposite,” you huffed.

Jacob snickered, and Tony rolled his eyes at your statement.

“What’s going on with you? Why do you want to go to Dommo’s so badly?” Tony asked.

“My car is there,” you said. Tony and Jacob shot each other a look. You knew the jig was up; these boys could read you almost too well. “All right, I met someone there yesterday. He was really nice. And I wanted to see him again because I forgot to get his number.”

Tony and Jacob let out a long, “Ooooh,” at your response.

“Well, I hear all the Dommo’s bartenders and baristas are kind of fuck boys, Y/N, so it might be well-worth your time to just skidaddle anyway,” Tony said. “But I mean, if you want to meet him, just pop-in for more coffee or something when you go get your car.”

You bit your lip. “I know, but he just didn’t seem like the usual type for Dommo’s. He actually seemed nice, like he wanted to talk to me. He listened to me complain about my major for like two hours, and gave me free sangria. You don’t just give anyone free sangria.”

“We do every week,” Jacob replied, lifting his arms up. “Whine and Wine, c’mon.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yes, but we’re close friends. This guy was a stranger.”

“Doesn’t our roommate work at Dommo’s?” Tony asked, slightly scrunching his face up.

Jacob shook his head. “No, you idiot. He works at Wilson’s.”

“I swore he told me that once,” Tony muttered, shaking his head.

At that moment, your group’s name was called out, and you were ushered to a table in the back that seated four. You all ordered a round of mimosas, but you were all going to stick to just that — only one. Tony and Jacob were admittedly a little bit hungover still from last night, and while you were fine, you thought it’d be good to still hold off after all the sangria you drank the night before.

You chatted with both Jacob and Tony about how classes were going so far. Tony was going to have a stressful upcoming week, considering he had an exam coming up in one of his chemistry classes. Jacob, however, was going to be able to take it easy this week. He was a film and acting student, and he only had to worry about a group project he was going to be tackling soon. For the most part though, he was more thrilled than anything when it came to its progress so far, discussing how he met this new girl named Zendaya he wanted to integrate into the friend group.

“She’s a great actress and one of the most laid-back girls I’ve ever met in my life,” Jacob said.

“What is she studying?” you asked, lifting your eyebrows up.

“Women studies and music theory, but she’s heavily involved in the theater scene too.”

“You have to invite her for whine and wine. We need someone new in the mix,” Tony insisted. He then turned to you. “Are you inviting anyone new?”

“Maybe Brynn,” you mused, shrugging.

Jacob and Tony both groaned.

They hadn’t completely warmed up to your friend after an ill-fated incident at a previous party where she, in a completely drunken haze, decided to start jumping on Tony’s already fragile bed, and ended up breaking it. They hadn’t seen her since, slightly agitating the relationship between them and her. In her defense, she did help Tony pay for a new headboard and whatnot. So she wasn’t completely disgraced — just not a favorite to have around.

“You know what that means, time to lock all the bedrooms,” Tony huffed.

You giggled at your friends response, shaking your head. “I don’t think she’ll do something like that again. Besides, it’ll be good to have her around again. You guys can actually get to know her this time around. She’s a good person to complain with.”

“Why couldn’t you just get the bartender’s number and invite him instead?” Tony griped. You knew he was (mostly) kidding, but you were a little bit sad when you realized how fun it would be to invite Tom to Jacob and Tony’s parties on Wednesday nights. You could sit in the corner and chat, sipping on more wine and just get to know each other.

“More mimosas?” your waitress asked, approaching your table.

“I think we’re going to stick to water now,” Jacob replied, thanking her.

After a surplus of french toast and laughing, you were soon walking along the street toward Dommo’s to pick up your car.

Chatter consumed the world around you and you weaved in between all the people who were heading toward their own hangover brunch. You couldn’t help smiling, thinking of how you loved your college town for all its quirks.

As you headed in front of Dommo’s, you immediately spotted your car in one of the two hour free-lots, groaning when you realized you’d gotten a parking ticket for exceeding on your allotted time. It was a $35 ticket — not the worst you’d ever gotten downtown, but still not great.

Figuring you had nothing to lose still, you popped your head inside, scanning the room for Tom.

You sighed when you realized he wasn’t inside, but told yourself that you could maybe make a run by another time. He still owed you that latté that he talked to you about last night anyway. Either way, you headed back to your car, tucking the parking ticket in your glove box.

***

Over the course of the weekend, you quickly got over Tom. You fixated on your homework that was due Monday and Tuesday, burned some candles, and caught up on your favorite television shows. He turned from your brief confidanté into a passing memory.

Soon enough, you were back in your poli-sci class, plopped next to Brynn on the left side of the classroom as your professor lectured. You were nervous about today. He’d sent out an email before class that said he would be handing back papers today — a paper you rushed to complete and barely glanced over. You knew your grade was bound to be fucked by the time you got yours.

While your thoughts spiralized, your classmates were consumed in a debate over the topic of the paper. You heard Brynn contribute to the discussion and you started to doodle on your notebook, in hopes of temporarily escaping your thought process.

You then felt Brynn nudge you, a typical cue for when she needed you to back her up on something. You figured it was the typical conservative boys in the corner giving her trouble, and lifted your head up.

“What’s going on?” you whispered in her ear. “I’ve been tuned out.”

She snickered. “Nothing really, just Brad and Chad here are saying that voter fraud is the reason Hillary Clinton won the popular vote, and it’s an epidemic across the country. No racist history behind voter laws whatsoever.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, your poli-sci discussion always turned into this at one point. You typically enjoyed the debates a little bit more, but since it was still within the first month, you were in the less compelling element of class. You were less enthusiastic about the fact that you were currently stuck in this class with two of your least favorite fellow political science majors — Carter Higgins and Quentin Carver. They’d followed you through the political science classes since your freshman year, but most of the time, you were fortunate enough to only have one of them. This semester, you got both of them.

You were grateful when your professor decided to cut off the discussion early to hand back papers. You slumped back in your seat, somewhat eager to see your grade and yet not prospective about how it was bound to look.

Soon enough, your professor called out your name. Your fingers felt jittery as you walked up to the front, and grabbed the folded paper from his hand, and returned to your seat.

You unfolded the packet of paper carefully. You were surprised when you saw in red pen on the front a giant “A” and a note from him that said, “Excellent job.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You slumped back into your chair, this time in pure disbelief.

“What did you get?” Brynn asked, leaning over to spot it. “Holy shit, first paper and you already aced it. He’s a tough grader too. Congrats.”

You’d heard of this particular professor’s reputation before throughout others who took his class, so you were familiar with some of the horror stories when it came to grading. You knew it wasn’t just you who helped coordinate all of this, as your mind wandered back to your Friday night in Dommo’s and the bartender who was kind enough to look over your paper.

You focused back on Brynn. “Thanks! How did you do?”

She frowned, “B+, but still good. Better than I expected, that’s for sure.”

You packed up your things into your backpack, waiting patiently for everyone to be handed back their papers. Once everyone had, he gave a short overview of what to do on future papers, should anyone need help and reiterated his office hours incase anyone wanted to chat about their grade. Shortly after, everyone was dismissed, and you slung your backpack back over your shoulder. There was a bounce in your step as you approached the door to the classroom, but right as you were getting ready to leave, your professor called your name again.

You turned around, facing him. “Yes, Professor McKinley?”

“I was really impressed with your paper, Y/N. It was one of the best I’ve seen right off the bat in this class. You have a fairly impressive future ahead of you,” he said.

You were flattered by the statement. Sure, you excelled in all of your political science courses, and you were glad you were already doing well in this class in particular. Yet, the thought of the future still somewhat terrified you. You wanted to tell this professor so badly that you had no idea how you were going to handle things following this school year, and the last thing you thought the future would be for you was “impressive.”

“I’m currently looking for an undergraduate student to be a research assistant and join my team,” he continued. “I think you would be perfect for the job if you’re interested. I need someone that I know can analyze, write, and work well with others. Currently, I just have one person, Carter Higgins actually, who works with me, but I always like to have another person around while campaign season unfolds.”

You gulped. You weren’t sure if you wanted to work alongside Carter; you hated him. Yet, this was a tremendous opportunity. Professor McKinley was one of the most well-connected professors politically. If you wanted a job at a non-profit or in a politician’s office, he almost always had a way in. If you joined and impressed him, you could ride on his coattails.

“What exactly would I be responsible for?”

“Just doing research, maybe picking up some books from the library. We’d go to different parties of political candidates as well. You might accompany me to a few panels as the election approaches, all sorts of things. It’s a great opportunity to network and learn more about political research.”

You bit your lip. Admittedly, you didn’t like your current job so much. It’d be nice to do something during the school year that focused on what you were passionate about.

“I’d love to do it,” you said.

He beamed. “Great, I’ll send you a link tonight to apply. I’m looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

You gave him a polite thank you, before exiting the room. Brynn was outside, leaning against a wall and waiting for you. You smiled when you saw her.

“What was that all about?” she asked, synchronizing with your step as you both exited the building.

“Professor McKinley just asked me to work for him and do something political research,” you said, not meaning to brag, but well, it did sound that way.

You hated whenever you talked to Brynn about things like this. While she was an amazing friend, she was prone to jealousy and being competitive. A lot of the times, that manifested in your friendship with one another.

You could tell she was a little bit envious about the offer you received, and you felt a little bit guilty. Soon enough, a smile was on her face. You weren’t sure how genuine it was.

“That’s good. You’re going to get a lot of good networking out of that,” she said. “Congratulations!”

And yet, it felt forced. You weren’t sure just why you felt so guilty. Normally, if something like this happened, you would wave off the person who was exhibiting this kind of jealousy. But it was Brynn, and Brynn was one of the most passionate people you’d ever met. She genuinely cared about political science; it was her life ambition. The opportunity would have meant so much more than a resume line and connections to her.

“Thanks,” you replied. “But here’s the downside, I have to work with Carter Higgins.”

She groaned and you felt a little bit better in knowing you could now joke with her about the offer.

“I fucking hate that kid. He thinks he’s so important just because he’s a man and knows how to walk on two legs,” Brynn muttered. “Timmy Turner lookin-ass.”

You giggled at your friend’s string of insults. None of them were inaccurate.

“Speaking of Carter, why were you so spacey today? I needed your back-up.”

You let out a long sigh, uneasy how to best navigate the conversation. You didn’t want to agitate the whole friendship you had between you and Brynn, since you’d known she spent all week working on the paper. You knew she was going to judge you just a little bit for your lack of promptness with the paper, particularly since you’d gotten the special offer from Professor McKinley.

So you settled for, “Oh, I’ve just been anxious all day.”

“Why?”

You hadn’t thought that far along yet.

“Just a number of different things,” you said slowly. You decided your best bet was to slowly spin off the truth. “And like, I don’t know, I was nervous about my grade on the paper because I didn’t think it was my best work, and like, this one is going to sound a little bit lackluster, but I met this cute boy this weekend. We flirted for a few hours and I really liked him, but I forgot to get his number.”

It was an exaggeration to an extent, but for the most part, there was no lie.

“Oh that always sucks. I’ve done something like that before,” she replied, frowning slightly. “But hey, maybe you’ll bump into him again sometime soon. And like, I feel you on the anxiety in general, because I get that all the time.”

You felt yourself simmer down after her response. There were so many reasons you liked Brynn, but primarily because she never invalidated you when you talked about the things that were stressing you out. Even if they were just small things like forgetting to get a boy’s number at a bar.

“So, tell me about the boy,” she nudged you on.

You smiled and recounted how you met Tom to her, and how you opened yourself up to him so immediately it surprised you. You told her how sweet he was, how he waited to ensure you were comfortable with him giving you a ride home and in making sure you got home safely to begin with.

“Wow, you’re smitten by someone you’d only met for maybe two hours,” Brynn remarked.

You laughed. “I know, highly unlikely for me right?” You shook your head, your eyes slightly sparkling. “Some people are just magnetic, though, you know? And I think he’s one of those rare types.”

Brynn donned a smile at your words. “I honestly never thought I’d see the day where you were so flustered over another person. Who knew Dommo’s would put something like this together, huh?”

Brynn was reasonably surprised. In all the years that she’d known you, you’d never really pursued a relationship with another person. Often when someone was interested, you’d go on a date, but it almost always turned into nothing besides maybe a brief fling. This was the first time she saw you genuinely entranced by another person since you’d both been at college.

It was just that you were a total stickler about dating people you felt like were just as motivated as you were. Or at least, people who could keep up with you in terms of interests and banter. Other potential significant others you’d met over the years were great, but you always felt like you were never fully understood by them.

There was something different about this thing with Tom. Finding common ground wasn’t an issue. He got you.

“Hopefully it stays a thing. I haven’t seen him since, remember?” you continued. “And I don’t know how to see him again considering I don’t exactly have his phone number or anything like that?”

“Well, hopefully we’ll find him somehow. Worse come to worse, just run to the studio on Friday and see if he’s around. Or go to Dommo’s again somehow. If he works there as much as he says he does, I’m sure you’ll bump into him eventually.”

***

It was Wednesday night, which only meant one thing for your friend group — Whine and Wine time. You pulled the Yellowtail you’d been saving in your cabinet out, placed it in a bag, and walked over to Jacob and Tony’s apartment.

When you first moved out of the dorms, you knew you wanted to live by yourself. Jacob and Tony desperately wanted you to move into their apartment, but you had a feeling that if you shared a home with them, you wouldn’t be able to handle their living habits. Even so, the three of you agreed to live in the same apartment complex anyway — that way if you ever wanted to hang out or get drunk at the others’ apartment, it wouldn’t be a far distance.

You’d arrived at their front door in less than five minutes. Jacob’s eyes brightened considerably when he opened the door and saw you, and you gave him a tight hug. You were the second person there; the first being Laura, who was an expert at making sangria and was helping them out.

Granted, the general rule in your friend group was to typically arrive 30 minutes after the planned time. So by that standard, you were still about 15 minutes early.

“You’re not going to believe who’s coming today,” Jacob said as soon as you walked into the apartment.

You raised an eyebrow, setting the yellowtail you brought on the counter. “Who?”

“Our roommate,” Tony said from the couch. He was sprawled across it, already half a wine glass into the night. “Can you believe it? I invited him, not really thinking he’d say yes, and he texted back that he’d love to come!”

“He’s gonna be here around 8 o’clock,” Jacob said, nodding his head.

You grinned. “Way to include him in the friend group finally, guys!”

“You’re awfully excited, Y/N,” Laura remarked from the kitchen.

“Okay, they’ve been telling me about this guy for a while now, and he’s so mysterious like- I’m just curious about him. Where does he go? What does he do? Is he cute?”

“She’s going to scare him off within the first five minutes of being here,” Tony said.

You rolled your eyes. “Or maybe he’ll be happy that someone is finally acting interested in his life around here. You guys just ignore him!”

Jacob raised his hand. “In my defense, I try talking to him. Tony barely acknowledges him in the kitchen.”

“I don’t,” Tony admitted. “It’s just weird, like what do we talk about?”

“Wait, so in the morning if you’re like in the kitchen at the same time you guys just stand there in silence?” Laura asked.

You nodded your head. “Tony does at least.”

Laura shot him a look. “You don’t at least say hi or anything?” Tony shrugged again, and Laura rolled her eyes, slightly giggling. “No wonder he doesn’t really come home!”

“I’m trying now!” Tony attested, lifting up his glass of wine for another sip.

“He’s redeeming himself,” you joked. “Speaking of redemption, you know my good friend Brynn, she’s coming tonight. And I think we should give her a chance again, okay?”

Both Tony and Jacob groaned again.

“I’m already at max capacity tonight, Y/N! She broke my bed!” Tony protested.

Laura giggled from the kitchen and you rolled your eyes. “Guys, c’mon. She’s so much fun. Might be a little bit judgey from time to time but like a good friend.”

Jacob shrugged. “Listen, I’m usually just joking about all of this. I don’t actually have a problem with her. If you say she’s good, I believe you.”

Tony was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m locking my bedroom door.”

You stuck out your tongue at him, before turning to Jacob and asking, “And what about your friend?”

Jacob frowned. “She’s not coming tonight. She couldn’t make it.”

Tony sat up straight. “What?!”

Jacob shrugged again. “She said she was busy! She seemed disappointed, so maybe some other night.”

Tony let out a long sigh. “I hope she comes eventually. We need more friends around here,” he said.

Laura then started pouring herself a glass of sangria from the pitcher. She offered some to you, which you naturally accepted.

It was good, but not even close to the quality of sangria Tom made you at Dommo’s. But even so, you were content with it.

“Damn, she’s missing out on some great sangria,” you complimented, taking another sip.

Slowly, more of your friends started piling into the apartment. Abraham, Sally, and some people you didn’t know well started walking in right around 7:30 p.m., exactly when you expected more of the crowd to show up. You nudged Tony over and sat on the edge of the couch. Laura sat on the other side of Tony, while Jacob primarily played host by greeting everyone who came in.

Brynn came next, after the large wave of people. She plopped on the ground in front of you, and you could see Tony eyeing her. You knew he was genuinely wary around her, and you couldn’t help giggling slightly at their dynamic.

Brynn started making conversation with Tony, and surprisingly, he was receptive to it. You were only half-tuned into their discussion, as you sipped more of your sangria and enjoyed being slightly antisocial for a long moment.

“So when are we going to start complaining or start group games?” one of Jacob and Tony’s friend that you hadn’t met yet asked.

That was another tradition of whine and wine — when you weren’t crying over your week, you were usually sitting together in a circle playing Cards Against Humanity or more likely, King’s Cup.

“Soon as my roommate gets here,” Jacob said. “We’re waiting on him and a friend to officially get started.”

You all gathered around in different sections across the room to begin catching up. You mostly pursued conversation with Laura, talking about her classes and what life had been like as an accounting major.

Every now and then, you glanced over at Tony and Brynn, who were still having somewhat of a decent conversation. Tony seemed less uneasy about opening up to Brynn now, as his animosity from Brynn breaking his bed was now gone. Laura nudged you about it, placing bets that by the end of the night they would hook-up.

You wandered over to Jacob, who was pouring some more wine for himself over by the kitchen.

“They’re getting along well now, huh?” you whispered, gesturing over to Brynn and Tony.

Jacob snickered. “You know how Tony is. You think the two of them will be good for each other?”

You cocked your head. “I think they have the potential to be. Either they’re going to mortal enemies or soulmates.” Jacob laughed.

But then, the door swung open. You knew who it was going to be even before Jacob leaned over to say it. It was the mysterious third roommate — the one that you’d heard so much information about, but had never met. You felt your heart pick up its pace, ready to make your judgements as soon as the door came to a close.

Two heads poked their way in the apartment. The first was a tall, blond man, with broad shoulders and a serious expression. As you weaved your way through your own memory, you realized you didn’t recognize the face. And it didn’t seem to fit the descriptor Jacob and Tony t0ld you about since they’d moved into this apartment. They told you their third roommate was on the shorter side, and this guy seemed to be fairly average in height, if not higher than average, all together.

But, even more surprising was when you were able to see the second head that stuck its head through the crack of the door. You knew the face; it’d been a face you’d been looking for almost extensively over the course of the past few days. And now, there he was — Tom himself. He was standing right in front of you, with an inquisitive and apprehensive expression across his face as his eyes surveyed over the room. With the ways his eyes moved with ease, like he knew the apartment itself, you knew at once he was the mysterious third roommate Jacob and Tony had been talking about so much.

You laughed to yourself about the irony of it all. You’d been looking for him for so long it felt like, and now, he was right under your nose after all this time.

His eyes brightened once they connected with yours.

“Oh, Y/N, my roommate is here,” Jacob said, nudging you. “Tom! There’s someone I want you to meet!”

He weaved his way over to you and Jacob in the kitchen, his blond friend following closely behind.

“Tom, this is Y/N,” Jacob said, gesturing toward you. “She’s a friend of mine and Tony.”

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Y/N and I actually know each other. We met Dommo’s this weekend.” He gave you a quick head nod, and you smiled.

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” He shot a look over at you. You could tell by his reaction that it was all clicking in his head — the way you were eying Tom, the conversation you’d had at Over & Easy, the fact that Tom said you’d already met, and more.

“Yeah, Tom was really helpful to me when I was complaining over that paper I had to write for pols. He even proofread it for me,” you replied.

Jacob nodded his head, a small smirk tugging on his lips. It was all the confirmation he needed. You tried not to blush.

“This is my mate, Harrison by the way,” Tom said, gesturing over to the tall blond boy standing next to him. He stayed relatively quiet throughout the introduction, but now he gave you and Jacob a quick greeting. He was a fellow Brit, you learned quickly. “Harrison, this is Y/N and then Jacob, who is my flatmate. The other one is somewhere around here.”

Jacob and you both gave a quick wave.

“Welcome to your first whine and wine,” Jacob said. “There’s sangria over in the corner, and all the wine is communal usually, so feel free to drink whatever. No one really gives a shit here, we all just try to get drunk and complain.”

Harrison and Tom both grinned.

“Now that’s what I’m down for, mate,” Harrison said, and all of you laughed.

Tom and Harrison excused themselves from the conversation to get a drink. Jacob shot you a look again.

“So that bartender you’ve been obsessed with is my roommate?” he asks.

“It appears so,” you replied, cocking your head. “And I’m not obsessed with him. Just… curious.”

Jacob chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, whatever. I know you.”

You gave a pout. “I’ve only met him once.”

Jacob shrugged. “Just saying, for meeting only once, he obviously left an impression on you.”

And in truth, Jacob was absolutely right. You were enamoured by Tom in a way you couldn’t quite explain. There was just something about him that you were still trying to decipher.

You weren’t sure if you’d met anyone like him before.

Tom wandered back over to you and Jacob, Harrison closely in tow. He lifted up his glass of sangria, in somewhat of a cheering motion.

“Sangria isn’t so bad, huh?” you asked him, as he took a sip out of the glass.

Tom shook his head, a small smile curling up on his lips. “Do you like it better than mine?”

You pursed your lips. “Yours is definitely the best I’ve had.”

You could tell Jacob and Harrison were surprised by how easily the two of you got into conversation, but they weren’t quite fully sure on the context behind the topic at hand.

“At the bar I work at, I make sangria a lot of the time,” Tom explained. “I’m always trying out new recipes. Y/N was one of the few to try a new one I made the other day.”

“It was really good,” you replied, nodding your head.

“Well, you’ll have to bring it over to Whine and Wine sometime. I think we need more of that around here, if anything. The more alcohol, the better,” Jacob said. He was met by the chuckles of both Tom and Harrison. “But, we’re going to start a game soon if you guys want to jump in. We usually play Cards Against Humanity, or like King’s Cup which is a fun drinking game.”

Tom shook his head. “I think I’ll hold off for now.”

“I’ll jump in,” Harrison offered.

Jacob shot you a meaningful look.

“I’ll hang back,” you said swiftly. “I’ll kick in though after a few rounds, okay?”

Jacob seemed a bit disappointed by your answer, and you knew it had a partial role in the fact that earlier in the week, you’d turned down hanging out with Jacob and Tony at all of those parties. But he could handle himself. This was the first time you were seeing Tom in a while, and you wanted to get to know him better.

Jacob and Harrison both headed over to the living room, where the whole crowd of attendees were hanging out. You tried to stop your hands from fidgeting when you realized you were alone with Tom now.

“I got a job because of your excellent proofreading skills,” you said, a bit abruptly. “Thank you for that.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised at your statement, and a small grin curled up on his lips. “Really? Where?”

You explained how it was a research assistant job, but the professor it was attached to had multiple connections that were bound to help your own prospective career. You mentioned how you got one of the best grades in the class compared to the other students on the paper, and how he’d noticed it.

Tom nodded his head and his eyes stayed fixated on your face as he talked. It was a bit strange, being able to talk to someone with them being so intent in paying attention in what you had to say. It was so typical in college for all the people you were usually around to maybe check their phone every now and then, or at some point, their eyes would slightly glaze over as you spoke. But that wasn’t the case with Tom. Not at all.

He was attentive and engaged. His coffee eyes were soft, but with kindness, rather than with a lack of interest.

“Congratulations,” Tom said finally, when you were done explaining the premise of your new job. “It sounds like you’re a perfect fit for it.”

“Yeah, m’pretty stoked about it,” you replied, shrugging slightly. “I know I gave you all that talk about how it’s not necessarily my passion, but like I actually think this could be good.”

Tom nodded his head. “At least gives you the hope that you’re going somewhere after college. Which means you’re probably doing better than the rest of us.”

You grinned. “Tom, it seems like you have it pretty together.” He snorted, but you continued. “I mean seriously, you host a good radio show, and from the small interaction we’ve had together, you seem pretty emotionally in-tune. Which is more than you could say about most of the men that I’ve met.”

He snickered. “Well, you haven’t gotten to know me super well yet, so maybe hold off on making a lot of judgements yet. I don’t know if emotionally in-tune is necessarily the best way to describe me.”

You bit your lip, and said softly, “I think I’d like to get to know you better though.” Tom raised an eyebrow. “I just think we could be good friends is all. And you live with two of my best friends, as I’ve learned after today. So, might as well, right?”

You’d backed off a little bit, thinking maybe your initial move was a bit too forward. But thankfully, Tom followed along with it.

“Yeah, if anything, you should come by Dommo’s again sometime soon,” he replied. “After all, I still owe you that latté.”

[archivepolarisornah]

Rachel exited Castle Cafe looking rather distressed. Her eyebrows were knit together as if she had just come to some deep, terrible realization that something wasn’t right.

She held two take-away cups in her hands, each filled with a different syrupy sweet, piping hot coffee.

“Why did I do that?” Rachel muttered to herself with a shake of her head. Sighing pointedly at the two cups, she slumped back against the wall by the door. Her day had been stressful; her parents, loving as they were, were having a hard time with a particular part of Rachel’s trauma (as was Rachel). The poor girl was agitated beyond belief, and had tried to rid the feeling of being trapped with a walk. It wasn’t working so far, and it all culminated in the current coffee shop incident.

Rachel had stood near the back of the queue for ten minutes, fighting with herself over which coffee to buy. Vanilla? Or Caramel? Vanilla or Caramel? People were looking at her funny, and she had already sent three people to go in front of. The barista wasn’t much help in the decision making process either.

So now she was stuck with two cups of coffee.

“What is wrong with me? I can’t drink this much coffee, this could kill me! And I can’t just… give it back, because that lovely man worked so hard to make it. And then if I did, how would I choose which one to give back? Would he be mad? Oh! He would be so upset that I didn’t like his coffee!”

James had been eager to go order another cup of coffee, after the recent party his life had turned to be a bit less exciting. So he did what he did best, he hoped to cross people while going to the coffee place he learned about through Miss Wendy Darling, he did well in avoiding Tina lately. Well, no harm as long as she did her job.

“For a moment I thought you were upset for losing sight of that stray cat again.” James voice echo-ed while he recalled their first meeting. He had taken notice of the two cups in her hand and the distress on her face, he, however, had to smile when it simply had been her ordering a cup too many. “Luckily I do like coffee, and I can assure you two cups will certainly not result in death.” He wouldn’t be among the living if that had been the case.

“But it is certainly true that one cup is healthier than two.” He explained. “So, you fine if I buy one of the coffee’s you mistakingly ordered. I was about to order one to begin with.”

“You would really help me out if you did.” He tried to soothe her. Offering a smile. It seemed always when they cross paths she was a bit on edge as if this would destroy the world. “You might want to take a deep breath as well, do you not know any anxiety exercises?”

Rachel looked down to the floor as James recalled their first meeting. How embarrassing, she thought, that people must see her as this terrible, hopeless mess of a girl. First she was worrying about a cat, and then she was worrying about coffee and now she was worrying about worrying about things. A curtain of hair his her face as she tried to compose herself. She was never this nervous when she was trapped at home with her ‘Mother, and she was only slightly nervous when Flynn Rider broke in to her home and helped her escape. Why was everything mounting up now, when she was completely free?

“Mother always said I shouldn’t drink coffee because the caffeine leads to brain damage and addiction” the girl mumbled, barely loud enough to hear. Apparently today was a day for doing things ‘Mother’ advised against - going outside, drinking coffee and mumbling. Finally, she looked back up to consider James’ offer. It felt wrong to take money for the coffee -she had no problem spending the cash in the first place and wouldn’t miss it- so she decided to offer it as a gift instead.

“You can have one,” Rachel stated with a nod, trying to sound enthusiastic. “But you don’t have to buy it, you can just take it. But they might be too sweet, they’re probably too sweet.” At James’ prompt she let out a heavy sigh. Apparently she had been holding her breath and hadn’t even realized. She finished with an unconvincing statement. “I’m fine.”

James noticed the tenseness in her body, but it seemed to be something that she dealt with quite often. It also happened when she was looking for the cat and it made him wonder if she might be in a problematic environment. He wasn’t the type of person to ignore such things. “Say, Rachel, are you alright? I’ve met you before and I notice you come quite cross as- don’t take this too much at heart but quite tense.” He felt obligated to ask her if she was, in fact, Safe, or if this was simply a mental thing she suffered from. “People make mistakes all the time, and although coffee can be addicting when you overdo it a cup or two will certainly not turn you into a coffee junky.” He felt like she was given correct information, simply exaggerated. “Is your mother the overprotective sort?” He wouldn’t know how a mother was meant to behave, yet it did feel a bit over the top for him.

“Alright, I’ll gladly take one. Though I owe you, so if you ever need help. You can stay at the neverland Hotel. Free of charge.” He already did the same with Peter, what would one more be? After all, he wouldn’t want to have it on his conscious that he’d allow her to be in a place that wasn’t good to her mental health. At least thats how things were sounding to him.

“Deep breaths alright, if you need to we can sit down. We can do the hear, see, smell, taste exercise. It can help you calm down.”

Rachel did not feel any more relaxed when James made light of her tenseness. She knew she was tense, she could feel it. And other people could see it too, which meant she was just as weak, and hopeless as ‘Mother’ told her she was. Her parents, her real parents, were now doing everything they could to rebuild her confidence again. “I guess I can be kind of… strung out,” Rachel admitted with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. A smile pulled at one corner of her lip, though it hinted at embarrassment rather than humour.

She considered the coffee in her hand again when James explained away the worry of caffeine addiction but his following question took her off guard completely and a horrible feeling bubbled away in the pit of her stomach.

“She’s not my mother.”

Rachel’s answer came too quickly, and the harshness in her quiet voice didn’t seem fitting for a girl usually described as sunshine. She felt guilty for it and the pang of anger gave way to another flustered shake of the head. “Wasn’t… Isn’t!” How was James supposed to know what happened to her?

The feeling remained as she held both cups in James’ direction so that he might choose a flavour of syrup. “Sorry… Here…” she mumbled, but finally looked up from behind her hair and gave James a sincere smile. “I do like hotels. They’re pretty fun!”

With a glance toward the chairs beside them, Rachel nodded her head. She definitely should sit down right now! “How does that work?”

He could see a wave of emotions running over her face the moment he pointed out that she appeared to feel tense. There was something, a flinch perhaps that came to cross when he used that term, Mother. And it made him wonder if something happened between them. She, however, explained what he already had gathered from her demeanour. “Nothing wrong with that, unless it becomes unmanageable.” Which James felt was actually happening right now.

She is not my mother.

There could be many reasons why those words escaped her lips, but James wondered if it was something he should or even could ask. So he didn’t comment on it. The last thing he wanted was to make her more uncomfortable than she already was. He however nodded. “No worries, it’s not my business, and you are not obligated to tell me anything you don’t find comfortable.”

“That’s good to hear.” He was happy to learn she found interest in the hotel he owned, or rather hotels in general. “We’ll have a pirate theme for Halloween.” He put a finger against his lips. “Do not tell, it’s still a secret.” He playfully winked. “I haven’t even told the staff yet, but October is coming. So is Halloween.”

He noticed her eyes glancing over to the chairs, and took the hint to sit down so she could sit as well.

“Some people call it the countdown exercise, the sensing exercise or even the five four three two one exercise,” James explained. “First you sit down and tell loud or in your head, five things you see. Then four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell and one positive thing you can taste. Because you have to focus yourself on those senses, chances are that you take away the anxiety because your brain is too occupied.”

“Sorry…” Rachel stated and found a quiet laugh escaping her lips. Again, from awkwardness. She felt stupid, and worried that she had made James uncomfortable with her snappiness. He was only trying to help! “It’s really hard to explain… I don’t know if I’m all– If I’m supposed to.” Sure, her story had been in the local paper a few years ago (picture less, mind you), and her baby face had been a staple of milk cartons for at least three years when she first went missing as a child, but it wasn’t necessarily public knowledge. (Or, at least, the story had been public knowledge, but exactly who the tragic damsel had been wasn’t.) Police and therapists had advised her keep it all hush-hush if she ever wanted to live a normal life.

The girl perked up a little at the prospect of keeping an exciting secret. Halloween had been a fantastic discovery! “I won’t tell, promise! Hand on heart!” Rachel nodded once, pulling a coffee filled hand closed to her chest.

A wave of relief rushed over her when they sat, and she listened intently, nodding at the appropriate moments. “That sounds like a lot of things to notice,” she mused thoughtfully, neglecting to mention that she was susceptible to bouts of total sensory overload. But maybe noticing things on purpose wouldn’t be so bad. She glanced around, absently running her fingers over the lip of her coffee cup. “Do I just say anything I can see?”

“Again, no sorry needed here.” He was glad she could laugh at this moment, she must have been feeling tense for a while. He wished he could do something to help her, even if it was something small. But he couldn’t think of anything aside of small exercises he uses himself. “Don’t worry, if you are not ready, or not allowed than I won’t ask any more questions.” It wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t the type to pry. He had no knowledge of her case since it wasn’t something fairly discussed in the orphanage, and when he was a working adult little news came to his ear if it didn’t involve itself with his business.

“Alright, then it’s a secret between you and me.” He smiled, leaning back in the chair and taking a sip of the coffee. A bit too strong for his taste, could use a bit more sugar. Many people wouldn’t say, but James actually had quite a bad sweet tooth. Especially when it came to chocolate, however dark was still his favourite.

“It distracts you from your worries and helps you sense the things around you. Often when I have nightmares that exercise gets me through the night.” Everyone had worries, including James. He was human after all. And he wasn’t taught how to deal with things, he had to learn that himself. There was no one that cared for him when he became too old for the orphanage. Yet he still managed to make friends along the way.

“Anything you see, you can say it out loud or in your head, what’s most comfortable for you.”

“Thanks,” Rachel replied sweetly, giving her shoulders an embarrassed little shrug. It almost felt like a blessing not having to explain herself, because she had spent over two years doing exactly that to people who weren’t really interested in how it made her feel. Or if they were interested in how it made her feel, they wanted to know why she felt that way.

The girl bounced slightly on her toes at the prospect of keeping a secret, and she really, truly, honestly wouldn’t tell a soul. It wasn’t life or death, but if she was trusted with anything, she made sure to keep that trust.

“Okay,” Rachel began after a settling breath. Her eyes flitted about the surrounding area and it took her quite a moment to decide exactly what she wanted to describe first. Because there was a lot to see! “Absolutely anything?” she asked to clarify, but didn’t wait for confirmation to start her list.

“I can see… Oh! Over there,” Rachel pointed quickly, almost sending her coffee cup flying. “There’s a little sparrow sitting on top of a railing, and he’s hopping a long but whenever he gets too close to the curve he starts sliding down and he has to fly back to where he started to do it all over again. That’s one thing! What else? That tree trunk sort of looks like an old woman’s face, doesn’t it? Uh, and I can see on the window of the coffee shop that someone’s pressed their face against the glass as if they were trying to give someone a kiss! And… Gosh, there really is a lot, how do you pick only five things?”

He wasn’t sure why Rachel was thanking him this much, he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary after all. Though he wouldn’t express what he was thinking aloud, he didn’t want to insult her or make her feel bad in any way. Sometimes it was simply better not asking and not knowing. He believed (with a rare exception when it came to a certain Tina Bell) that people had their own pace when it came to express certain things. Tina simply exploded or overwhelmed him at times by expressing something that didn’t equal to anger.

He respected Rachel’s boundaries, as he tried with everyone. Again the exceptions being Peter and Tina here, because they were at time boundless.

James wasn’t the type of man to share secrets, but he saw how it cheered her up so he decided to let it be. He’d trust her.

He smiled, giving her space and silence to do this exercise, though he noticed she became more bubbly and certainly had a high awareness of her surroundings. What he also noticed was how her breathing turned steady and the exercise did what it was supposed to do. Make you breathe at a comfortable pace.

“If you want you can do the other senses as well, but as you might notice yourself. Your breathing isn’t that forced any longer. That’s the purpose of this method, by taking the focus away of your anxiety and looking into your surroundings you become aware of the now. And the now is that you get to enjoy yourself a cup of coffee, watch the birds and see shapes all around you.” James explained to her softly, and then he smiled. “I hope this can help you at times.”

Rachel took a moment of pause, and true enough, her breathing had settled and she felt a significant wave of relief wash over her. It had worked! What a miracle, she was cured of her worry! Of course that wasn’t strictly true, because her mind was still racing at a mile a minute, though at least now the train was headed in a new direction. She kind of wanted to keep going with the list, at least to finish the task. It probably would have benefited her to write things down instead of letting her mouth run and it occurred to her that she could try it with painting later.

“Oh my goodness, you’re right,” Rachel breathed, nodding in awe. “It’s like– Why did no one tell me about this earlier? You’re, like, a genius or something.” Finally Rachel was smiling, and she took a long awaited sip of her coffee. She had spent so long worrying about it that it was cool enough to drink, and had she not been having a conversation she likely would have drank it in a record amount of time. It tasted really good! Almost worth the worry.

“Can I–” the girl started, but thought she best reword the question she was about to ask. No matter what, a little fog of doubt hung over her head constantly. She was forever asking permission, and always praying that she didn’t inconvenience anybody. “You don’t mind if I keep going?”

He kept quiet waiting for her to be completely relaxed before he’d open his mouth again. At this moment he did the exercise himself, yet in quiet because that certainly was another option anyone could do. It helped him have a clear head at days, since anxiety wasn’t a stranger to James, especially a thing he worked a lot around during his teenage years was his complexion when it came to self-worth. He’d been given therapy on a rather young age as well, starting from when he just arrived in the orphanage. He’d been diagnosed with depression caused by the for him sudden abandonment from his parents. A lot of growing had been done to become the businessman he was today.

“A good exercise right?” He smiled, grateful that it actually helped with her because not every exercise would have this effect on people. It was a trial and error type of thing. “I feel like this should be taught in schools, yet it regrettably isn’t. Yet, you can find things like these in the library in the psychological section or if you have internet access simply google anxiety-reducing exercises.

“Good coffee?” James pointed out with a playful smile. “You’ve been grinning, which I’m happy to see.” It did him well to ease the worry of others, even if some people had a rather bad view about him, it wasn’t like James was an awful man.

Sure he could be if you pressed the wrong buttons.

He shook his head. “No you can just continue and finish the list even if you are calmer, I do this even when I’m not in a panicky state, it makes me aware-” He tapped his head. “Keeps the mind open so sure go ahead and feel free to do this as longs as you want.”