#THE PERSON WHO SAID ‘’PERSONALLY? FUCK THAT CUP OF COFFEE?’’ YOU ARE SO FUNNY AND FOR WHAT

[shepscapades]

SHEP

DRAW MORE SLEEPY XISUMA

AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

(no pressure of <3)

ANYTHING FOR YOU ANONYMOUS

[tardis--dreams]

Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes

[writeriguess]

Can you write me a MHA fic where reader and Katsuki have been crushing on each other for ages but both are denying it and Katsuki is really mean to her, and reader is really mean to Katsuki. One day, Katsuki's friends trick them and get them to go on a blind date, they have a huge fight but end up making out.

Like Hell I’d Fall for You

"God, he’s insufferable."

You slam your locker shut with a little more force than necessary, scowling like the world personally offended you. Which, to be fair, it kind of did. Or more specifically, he did.

"Bakugou Katsuki is the human embodiment of a stubbed toe," you mutter under your breath.

"Funny," says Mina from behind you, “because I just heard him say you were the reason birth control was invented.”

You whip around. “He said what?”

She raises her hands innocently. “Hey, I’m just the messenger. Though, to be fair, didn’t you call him a sentient Red Bull can last week?”

“That's generous,” you scoff. “Red Bull gives people wings. Bakugou gives people migraines.”

Meanwhile, in the opposite hallway…

"She’s fucking unbearable," Bakugou growls, kicking his locker shut hard enough to dent it.

“She’s literally the only person who can keep up with your bullshit, man,” Kirishima replies, biting into an apple like this is just another episode of their weekly soap opera. “That kind of energy? It’s flirting.”

Bakugou’s eye twitches. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. She calls you a dumpster fire with legs, but she also stares at you for ten minutes during training.”

Bakugou turns his glare on him. “If I stared at a fire for ten minutes, it’d be because I wanted to burn it out.”

Kirishima just smiles knowingly. “Right.”

This, of course, has been going on for months. The entire class is in on it. The professors? Probably too. It’s hard to miss the sheer voltage of tension between you and Bakugou.

You mock him, he scowls at you. He mocks you, you threaten to shove his gauntlet up his ass. Everyone pretends not to notice that neither of you ever backs down. It’s exhausting. And weirdly entertaining.

Which is why Mina, Kirishima, and Kaminari decide to intervene.

By lying to you.

Friday, 6:30 PM – Somewhere in a trendy Tokyo café

You’re dressed like a liar. Because you were told this was a casual coffee meetup with Mina and Momo. So you showed up in a cute dress, makeup on, hair nice.

Which is exactly why, when you see Bakugou at the other end of the café looking just as confused and wearing a crisp black button-up (that you refuse to admit fits him way too well), your stomach drops.

“Oh hell no.”

He spots you. His face does a weird thing. You think it might be pain. Or fury. Or indigestion.

You both start walking toward each other like you’re about to duel at high noon.

“What the hell is this?” you hiss.

“I was told this was a Kirishima thing,” he growls.

“Well, Mina’s dead to me now.”

He crosses his arms. “Like I’d go on a date with you.”

“Oh please. Like I’d want to.”

And yet, neither of you leave.

You’re both seated. Begrudgingly. In utter silence. Until the barista drops off two drinks Mina apparently pre-ordered under the names “Queen of Spite” and “Lord Explosion Murder.”

Your cup has a little heart on it. His has a middle finger doodled on the side.

You blink. Then laugh. “Okay, that’s actually kind of funny.”

He snorts. “Idiots.”

Silence again. Then:

“You look good,” he mutters.

You glance up, startled.

He immediately scowls. “I mean, like. For you. Not—whatever. Fuck.”

You smirk. “Wow. That almost sounded like a compliment. Who are you and what have you done with the snarling porcupine I know?”

He glares. “You look like you’re going to a damn gala.”

“Oh, so now it’s too much?”

“You’re fishing.”

“I don’t need to fish for compliments from you, Katsuki.”

“You just did!”

“Oh my god, do you even hear yourself?!”

You’re both standing now. Not yelling, but close.

“You think I wanna be here?” he bites out.

“I know you don’t. You’d rather die than admit you like me.”

He goes still.

Shit.

Shitshitshit.

You freeze too. A beat of silence. Then:

“I—what?” you stammer.

His mouth works like he wants to say something, but can’t.

Then he does.

“Of course I fucking like you.”

Your heart slams into your ribs.

“I’ve liked you since second year,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “When you beat the shit outta that third year who said my quirk was all boom, no bite. You called him a discount sparklers pack.”

Your jaw drops.

“I've tried everything to stop. You drive me insane. You talk back, you’re loud, you fight dirty—”

“So do you!” you shout.

“Exactly!” he snaps. “You’re like... I don’t know! A natural disaster. A pretty one. With teeth.”

You blink.

“Oh my god.”

And then—

You launch across the table.

He catches you halfway.

Mouths crash. Teeth knock. Someone knocks over a latte. It’s chaos. It’s electric. It’s inevitable.

Your hands are in his hair. His hands are on your waist. Your body feels like it’s on fire and your heart is trying to punch out of your chest. It's a fucking moment.

Somewhere behind the counter, a barista stops mid-pour.

“Holy shit,” says the newer one. “Should we... call security?”

The older barista just watches calmly, chewing gum. “Nah. This is like a nature documentary.”

The new guy blinks. “What?”

She jerks her thumb toward you and Bakugou, still aggressively making out.

“Predators. They fight, then they mate. Give it a minute.”

You and Bakugou eventually stumble out of the café, breathless and flushed, hand-in-hand like you didn’t spend the last year trading death threats.

“So,” you say, looking up at him. “Was that the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

He grins, wide and wolfish. “Nah.”

“I mean, you did spill my latte.”

“You tackled me.”

You smirk. “So we’re even?”

“Not even close,” he growls, pulling you in again. “I’m gonna spend the rest of the damn week making up for lost time.”

And he does.

Much to the horror (and secret delight) of everyone at U.A.

[leafbowl]

Sometimes, Tim got so exhausted that he forgot where he was. Then there were the times when he got so exhausted that he forgot when he was. This was something all of the bats were aware of and they tried to accommodate him, reminding him of the correct date.

When Harley Quinn joined the bats, sometimes Tim slipped up in the most horrible way.

"HIYA BATS!" Harley yelled as she appeared out of nowhere in the Batcave. She grinned, hands behind her back as she rocked slightly. Bruce gave her an unamused look. She over-exaggerated a pout. "You're borin', B-man." She turned to the gaggle of birds mulling about. She smiled big at them all. "Hi Birdies!"

There was a chorus of hellos, some of them half-hearted and distractedly. Tim, who was on his eighteenth cup of coffee (he had started over his limit with each person, only ever drinking a cup in front of certain people (his limit was two)), looked at her, furrowed his eyebrows and then made a face like he was arguing with himself. It confused Harley but she didn't mention it. This was normal for the bats, Timmy especially.

Shaking off his thoughts, Tim smiled softly at Harley. "Hey, Mom." He then turned and went back to his work. Harley froze. Bruce froze. Dick paled, starting to shake. The three of them all stared at Tim, Harley with her mouth open in shock. She wasn't disturbed by it, being Timmy's mother was actually one of the good memories she had with Joker. Of course, the circumstances weren't good but Timmy was a good kid.

"Hi," Harley said carefully. "You feelin' okay, sweetheart?" She thought the endearment might make this easier. It didn't. Dick looked like he was going to be sick. He kept glancing between Harley and Tim. Bruce couldn't look away from the now confused boy.

"Mhm," Tim hummed. He took a sip of his coffee and when his eyes settled on Harley again, he tilted his head rather adorably. "Why do you ask?"

"You..." Harley laughed nervously. "You called me Mom."

Timmy's eyebrows drew together. "Okay... I won't call you Mom anymore but... you are my mom." He seemed very confused but he didn't seem upset or traumatised by the fact he had slipped. He also didn't seem to be like JJ in any other way.

So, Harley nodded slowly. "Okay, Pun'kin," she said, smiling again. "Continue with ya work. Ya doin' a good job."

Tim smiled at the praise and nodded, continuing on his case work. Harley turned to Batman. He looked out of it. Harley looked at Nightwing. Dick looked... like he wanted to punch something. Harley ignored them both and went to get what she'd come for: Alfred's cookies. He had baked her favourite because she hadn't killed anyone in three weeks. Three weeks! It was exciting.

Later, after Tim had slept for sixteen hours straight and was finally aware of where he was, Duke pulled him to the side and sat him down, Steph and Cass sitting on the couch in front of him. Tim narrowed his eyes at them, knowing they were up to something. But Duke looked almost... nervous. He sat down on the couch in between Steph and Cass. "What's up guys?" Tim asked warily.

"We wanted to invite you into our club," Duke said slowly. His shoulders sagged. "We have a bit of a 'our parents aren't dead but they're absent' club. Mine are just..." Duke looked off to the side, eyes glazing over as they usually did when he thought of his parents. "Broken. We'll fix them." Cass set a hand on his arm and he snapped out of it. He turned to her and smiled his thanks. Then he turned to Tim who was fucking confused.

"What are you going on about?" Tim asked. "Both of my parents-"

"We're talking bio parents," Steph put it. She slumped back against the couch. "Also, I'm mad at you that you didn't tell me you had a bio mom."

Tim only got more confused. What were they talking about?

"We heard you call Harley 'Mom' the other day," Duke said. He gave a bit of a smile but Tim couldn't find anything funny with that statement. When the fuck had he called Harley his mother? He hadn't done that in years. It was a hard fix when he first got back but he hadn't slipped up in a long time.

"Still love you," Cass promised, reaching over to take one of Tim's hands. She smiled warmly. "Even if Quinn is mother."

Tim just stared at her. He... He didn't know what to say. Even if he told them that Harley wasn't actually his mum, they wouldn't believe him unless he told them why he had called Harley 'Mom' in the first place- and he really didn't want to do that. So he didn't. He just nodded and sagged against the armchair he was sitting in. He could vaguely recall him saying something about it being good to get his secret out.

After that, Tim started going to the club meetings (it was mostly just fucking around on an inflatable course) with Steph, Duke and Cass. He figured that they wouldn't talk about it with anyone if he asked so there was really no harm in correcting them. Besides, Harley had been his mother at one point. And she wasn't a bad mum, she was just... Harley Quinn. She didn't treat Tim any different compared to his siblings other than the fact she held a certain fondness for him that he reciprocated.

Nothing could go wrong.

Something went wrong. He got so used to thinking of Harley as his mum that he started calling her that without thinking about it. At first it was just to her, which she brushed off as him making some kind of joke or it being a way to deal with his trauma, and then it was to other people.

"What did you do today, babybird?" Dick asked as he, Jason and Tim were sitting on a roof. Jason was trying to get Nightwing and Red Robin out of his territory but the two vigilantes didn't care.

Tim shrugged, swiftly side-stepping Jason's attempt as pushing him off the roof. "The usual, I guess. Oh! I saw Mom today. She wasn't doing anything so I went up to her as Tim and-"

"Wait, what?" Dick's eyebrows knitted together and Jason paused his rough-housing with his brother to stare at Tim. "Your... Mom?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, my mom." He gave them both weird looks. And then he realised what he had done. He looked off and heard laughter echo around his mind. He ignored Junior and smiled at his brothers. "You know, Selina Kyle?"

Dick relaxed. Tim could physically see the tension seep from his body. Jason didn't look as placable. "Why're you callin' her mom?"

Tim shrugged. "She is kind of like our mom."

Tim could tell Jason narrowed his eyes at him even through the helmet. "Not really," he said, voice gruff through his voice changer. "And isn't Selina in Mexico?"

Tim froze. Dick looked between his brothers. "Tim..." He frowned. "Who were you talking about?"

Tim looked away from Dick. He needed to leave. He could feel something gnawing at the back of his throat. A laugh. Him. Tim let out a sharp breath that was close enough to a laugh to subdue the itch. "Doesn't matter," he said. He pulled out his grapple but Dick caught his wrist.

"Tim," Dick said firmly.

Tim glared at him and snatched his wrist back. "Don't touch me."

Dick reared back like Tim had slapped him. Tim gave a small gasp and covered his mouth. He hadn't meant to get angry, he hadn't meant to hiss at Dick. It wasn't his fault. He was just worried about Tim.

"Tim," Jason said carefully. "Tell him."

Tim stared at him. "No," he said. He didn't know how Jason knew but he wasn't surprised.

"He could help," Jason tried but he sounded... wrong. There was something uncomfortable about his posture. Another laugh crawled up Tim's throat and he wasn't ready for it so soon. It bubbled out of him and Dick paled. He went grey, his hands beginning to tremble.

Tim managed to quell the urge and stopped his laughter. He cleared his throat, turned, and fell off the side of the building, deciding running was the better option. Safer. It was best that Dick didn't know Junior was still in Tim's head, still lurking around. He was caged, his hands bound and his mouth gagged. Still, sometimes JJ got out of his binds. Sometimes he had enough influence over Tim that he snuck in a laugh or two, sometimes he pushed out the words Mom and Dad. He hadn't called Joker 'Dad' since it first happened. He wasn't ever going to do it again. He couldn't.

[crosbyism]

"but then again this is the guy who’s publically known for loving to eat ass so"

I'm sorry, I thought Nate eating ass was fanon. Are you telling me this is an actual canon fact??

god i love when people don’t realise how much “fanon” around sid and nate is actually canon. it’s like heroin to me. also bc it’s like. 90% of the stuff in fics (which is probably why people assume it’s fanon but. oh boy it’s not. there’s shockingly little fanon around these two, mostly because canon is so abundant).

yes, nathan mackinnon is a known ass-eater. let me direct you to this post, anon. you’re welcome.

other nate (and sid) facts you might not have realised are canon:

nate is a known advocate for therapy. he’s been seeing a sports therapist since 2017

they wear matching clothing all the fucking time, sid has said publicly that he started wearing white sneakers and updated his wardrobe due to nate’s influence (iirc nate might’ve even bought him his first pair of white sneakers? either that or it was a “he told me i need to so i did” situation). they share a tailor. unfortunately i now have to bring your attention to the fact that since they have an alarming amount of matching clothes that they’ve bought for each other, that means that they in fact have to know each other’s clothing sizes off by heart. they also low-key share clothing btw

their families celebrate canada day together and their dads are best friends. in-law behaviour goes crazy

nate did in fact stalk his way into sid’s heart (got the same personal trainer and agent at age 13; built his house next door in 2017; they’ve been spending every day in the summers together since at least 2015. sid cooks for them daily, or at least did pre-pandemic. sid refuses to use nate’s gym tho so they always use sid’s).

nate used to have a fan twitter account more or less where he rooted for the pens. it was active until 2017.

sid and nate regularly go to summer weddings together as each other’s dates. they have done this since, once again, at least 2015

nate has confirmed that he used to have a poster of sid on his wall as a teenager (he didn’t confirm he used to jerk off to it but frankly. i think that’d be saying the quiet part out loud)

when sid won the cup in 2009 and held the parade in cole harbour, nate stood by the side of the road watching it. he was about to turn 14, he was already working with sid’s trainer and agent, and he was about to start attending shattuck (sid’s junior high). due to old pics we also know that this was RIGHT before nate had his first growth spurt and hit puberty. i’m not saying seeing sid with the cup kickstarted nate’s puberty and gave him his first boner but i’m not NOT saying it

nate dated vanessa morgan of riverdale fame in his rookie year. she’s now good friends with elias petersson from the vancouver canucks (this means nothing but i do think it’s a very funny coincidence).

nate schmidt, formerly of the VGK, once failed a drug test (it turned out to be a testing-fuck-up); when nhl players were asked about it natemack iconically said “i don’t think he was sticking a needle up his ass” (i just like this one)

when he was a kid, the one other thing sid wanted to be was a hairdresser. nate, on the other hand, “didn’t have a plan B”

nate is canonically possessive of sid (see: the asg 2024) and sid is canonically delighted by this and into it

they go on so many lunch dates in the summer my dude. they go grocery shopping together. like there’s so many pics of them in grocery stores or out having coffee or weird green shakes

oh i almost forgot, they went on a roadtrip through ireland last year. they’ve been on holiday together multiple times over the years though. done some eurotripping together and stuff. in 2015 they spent three months together, three weeks of which were spent living in sid’s santa monica condo together just the two of them

sid has put up a picture of every stanley cup winning captain in his basement since 2008, when the pens lost in the scf to DET. apparently this serves as motivation for him to win the cup. he notoriously does not watch the playoffs after the pens are out

however, he partied so hard at nate’s cup party he actually closed down the party with his dad. nate is the only non-teammate sid’s ever been seen supporting for a cup run (he’s also never been to his teammates’ cup parties afaik so. there’s that)

also they talked on the phone daily and between periods during nate’s cup run. they also canonically have almost weekly phone dates that can run multiple hours. quote nate “i can’t talk to anyone else the way i can talk to him”

they each have pictures of the two of them together framed in each other’s houses

there’s rumours they’re building adjoining houses on neighbouring properties in cape breton next to a golf course bc apparently being neighbours in halifax isn’t enough or something. this one is as yet unconfirmed by reputable sources though

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: Oliver Aiku isn’t sure which entity he’s wronged to earn this kind of treatment, but somehow, in the days before the match against Blue Lock, he’s stuck watching over the team’s newest addition: Sae Itoshi, a rude midfielder who’d rather be in Spain (or in hell) than hanging out with him. Things get a little more complicated, though, when a cup of shitty coffee leads to a crush and Aiku is forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, sae my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader has to work in customer service 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, sae is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), sae slander (from aiku), reader is a fan girl but she keeps it 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙, reader’s dad has cameos but he’s just chilling tbh

A/N: the people wanted sae’s version to be posted first so uhhh here we are!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long (as usual) but it’s very silly and goofy!! anyways so this is the first entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Oliver Aiku likes to think he’s a fairly nice guy. He visits his grandmother every weekend, he rescues kittens from gutters (okay, it only happened once, but he still did it, so it counts), and he’s good enough at being captain of the Japanese U-20s that none of his teammates really hate him, so all in all, he can’t be doing that bad of a job. Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s a great person, a stand-up fellow, an upstanding member of society — so why the fuck is Sae Itoshi glaring at him like that?

“What?” he says, because it was fine for the first, say, twenty minutes or so, but now it’s gone from annoying to just plain concerning. “Something going on with you?”

Sae stares at him for a moment longer, and Aiku wonders if he’s trying to communicate via telepathy. That’s a skill he’s never picked up, though, so he can only wait for Sae to speak up, which, thankfully, he eventually does.

“This coffee is shit,” he says. The way he speaks is dull and blank, his lips pinched together and his brows low over his eyes. It’s kind of a shame, in Aiku’s highly professional opinion. He’d be handsome if he smiled more; or, if not handsome, at least approachable enough to not scare away every single girl that dared to even glance at him.

“It’s not my fault,” Aiku says. “Take it up with the barista or something.”

“You’re the one who brought me here, so it is your fault,” Sae says. Aiku crosses his arms, because isn’t Sae younger than him? This feels like a level of disrespect he shouldn’t tolerate, prodigy or not.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. In hindsight, it’s not the most mature response he could’ve come up with, and Sae seems to agree, snorting derisively before using a napkin to dab at a drip of coffee running down the side of his cup.

“What a captain,” he says with a sigh. “No wonder you guys need me to play for you against those Blue Lock idiots.”

Aiku should be offended, he really should be — and he is! He is, and he’s just about to muster up some scathing retort that’ll definitely leave Sae Itoshi trembling, but then Sae’s standing up with purpose, so now he’s just intrigued instead of insulted. He follows after him as Sae holds the coffee in one hand and marches towards the counter, and when he realizes what’s about to happen, he preemptively cringes.

“Don’t yell at service workers!” Aiku says. It would’ve been heroic if he had said it loud enough for Sae to hear him, but unfortunately, it’s more of a whisper than the brave shout he had intended for it to be, so he just looks kind of stupid, as if he regularly talks to himself or something.

“Hey,” Sae says to the boy at the counter. He’s young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and Aiku prays that he’s not the target of Sae’s ire. “Who made this?”

The boy squints at Sae’s cup, reading the receipt, and then he smiles innocently. “That was Y/N. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Yes,” Sae says bluntly. Aiku is about to thank whichever deity was watching over him and that boy alike, but he pauses when the rest of the kid’s statement registers. Her? Her? Is Sae seriously about to yell at a girl for making bad coffee? If she’s hot, he’ll kill Sae, no doubt about it. “And tell her to make it quick. We don’t have all day, and she’s already wasted enough of our time.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to kill him. 

“Y/N,” a voice whispers. You’re untying your apron — your shift is just about over, and you’re ready to clock out, but for some reason your young coworker is peering into the kitchen nervously and gesturing for you to come with him. Normally, you’d tell him to handle things himself, but he’s new, so you decide to be responsible for once and follow after him, muttering curses to yourself as you retie your apron.

“What’s the matter? Did you spill something?” you say. He shakes his head, raising his hand and pointing at the counter, where two customers are waiting. You frown, because you’re pretty sure you already gave them their drinks, so there’s no reason for them to be standing there, unless maybe they want to reorder. “Wait. Did you call me to take their order? No way! My shift is over in thirty seconds!”

“No, no, I didn’t,” your coworker says. “They want to talk to you.”

“Me? Like me, specifically?” you say. He nods.

“Yeah, they asked for you by name and everything,” he says earnestly. “I think they’re mad, though.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, because the last thing you want to do is deal with a couple of prissy customers, especially not when you’re supposed to be heading home already. However, your coworker seems to be on the verge of tears, and some kind of sisterly affection tugs at your heartstrings, so you pat him on the shoulder and take his spot at the counter.

“Hi, this is Y/N. My coworker told me you needed to see me. How can I help you?” you say. Your voice is chipper and your smile is false, but they don’t need to know that. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for long enough that you’re practiced at pretending, and you know for a fact that your coworker is standing shyly at your side, probably astonished by the quality of your performance.

For a moment, neither man speaks, so you get to stare at them and make your own assumptions about who they are and what their backstories might be. It’s kind of like a hobby, a pastime for when things are slow or you’re generally annoyed about your job. You’ve developed it over the years, and luckily, these two are prime candidates for the game.

The one on the left is tall and broad, with dark hair and mysterious eyes. Curiously, one is a bright green, while the other is a softer violet, and there’s a few-days-old stubble growing on his square face, like a shadow running along his jaw. It gives him a rough appearance, like he owns a motorcycle and frequently wears leather jackets, but you want to believe that he’s gentle at heart. Maybe he has a fondness for baby animals or he likes to bake cookies or something along those lines.

The one on the right is shorter than his counterpart, and his hair is red like a sunset, pushed carelessly out of his haughty face. He’s wearing a sweater that matches his eyes, though the teal of the knitted fabric is much more muted, and you’re about to come up with some kind of fantastical explanation for who he might be when you realize that you know him.

He clears his throat, and you scramble to stand up straighter, internally screaming, because what are the odds that you’ve somehow managed to piss off the star player of your favorite soccer club’s youth team? You wonder what your father will think of you now. You wonder what you think of yourself now. What should you do? Should you tell him you recognize him? Ask for an autograph? Or should you play it cool and pretend like you don’t know him? What if he yells at you?

Actually, you wouldn’t mind it as much as normally do. When everyday customers start screaming at you for some perceived wrong that you’ve supposedly committed, you typically tune them out, and then you make fun of them with your coworkers in the back, but if it’s Sae Itoshi…well. you’ll certainly listen to every word he says, and when you return to the kitchen, you’ll write them down somewhere so you can remember the moment forever.

“He didn’t like his drink,” he says, pointing at the dark haired man.

“What?” the man shrieks. The pitch is higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his size, but it appears he realizes that, too, because then he’s coughing. “I mean, what? What are you talking about?”

“You were just complaining, Aiku,” Sae says. “You even made me come up here and get mad at this girl for you.”

The other man, who you guess is named Aiku, is turning a strange shade between magenta and beet-red, and you’re surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears. Given that you don’t really care about him that much, you’re instantly irritated again, because why would it matter if he didn’t like his drink? Still, you have to keep up appearances.

“My apologies, sir. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” you say. 

“No!” Aiku says. “No, it’s — hey, Sae, you were the one who was all upset, so why are you putting it on me?”

“Hm?” Sae says, obviously uninterested in the conversation already. “I dunno. Maybe it happened like that, or maybe not.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, more than a little bewildered. “Ah, I’m new here, so I’m still learning.”

Aiku, who has returned to a more normal and human color, smiles at you kindly, and he’s about to respond, ostensibly to reassure you, but then your damned coworker pipes up: “No, she’s not.”

“Ah, sorry?” Aiku says.

“She’s not new,” your coworker says again.

“‘New’ is a subjective term,” you say mechanically, wishing that it was acceptable for you to turn around and hit him in public whenever you wanted.

“I don’t think anyone would consider you to be new when you’ve been working here for three years,” your coworker says. You can imagine the innocent, guileless expression on his face right now. You want to do something violent to it.

“Ha, ha,” you say. You think your eye might twitch, too, but if Aiku or Sae notice, then neither of them point it out. “What a knowledgeable fellow we have back here.”

“It’s alright,” Aiku says. “I didn’t mind the drink. Sae’s the one who threw a fit about it.”

“I liked it,” Sae says stubbornly. “It was fine.”

You step in before Aiku can turn magenta again, because that’s probably unhealthy for him, and you don’t want to be held liable for a customer dying on your watch when you’re not even being paid for it.

“Anyways, is that all? I’m actually done with my shift, so if you guys don’t need anything else…” you trail off, though inside you’re screaming something along the lines of Sae Itoshi, please notice me and give me your autograph and oh, if you could fall in love with me, too, that would be amazing!

Of course, you can’t verbalize anything like that, so you just smile and wave until the door slams shut behind them. Then you’re yanking your apron off and balling it up before chucking it at your coworker’s face. It hits him in the nose and slides to the ground; he gives you an offended look before picking it up.

“You’re lucky it was only an apron,” you say. “You owe me big time, you little shit.”

“Huh?” he says.

“I won’t forget this!” you warn him, stomping towards the small locker room, where your precious phone is waiting for you. “You’re a major-league jerk, okay? Don’t ever ask me to cover another shift for you again!”

“Huh?” 

“What the hell was that?” Aiku snaps as soon as they’ve left the cafe, because this is totally not what he was expecting when his coach told him that he had to treat Sae nicely and make him feel welcome. 

“What was what?” Sae says. He’s sipping on his coffee sedately now, even though he was complaining about it only minutes earlier.

“Since when was I the one who was upset about my coffee?” Aiku says.

“I have a bad memory,” Sae deadpans. “I guess it could’ve been either of us.”

“That was not believable in the slightest,” Aiku feels the need to inform him. Judging by Sae’s expression, it wasn’t meant to be believable, though, and Aiku sighs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You were just going crazy and glaring at me because you thought the coffee sucked, and now you think it’s good?”

“I should’ve waited for it to cool,” Sae says. “It’s better now. I was being hasty.”

“Uh-huh,” Aiku says. “Sure. Let’s do something else tomorrow. I don’t ever want to go back there. I don’t think I can face that girl again. She was so hot, too, and now she probably thinks I’m some ungrateful asshole…”

“I want to go back,” Sae says immediately, throwing the now-empty cup into the nearest trash can. Aiku furrows his brow at him, trying to puzzle out this latest contradiction and finding himself utterly unable to. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Aiku repeats dubiously. Tomorrow he has practice, and technically so does Sae. However, they both know that Sae doesn’t need anything as ridiculous as practice in order to win against a team of eleven high-school forwards, and he’s fairly confident that his coach will tell him to accompany the bratty Itoshi instead of showing up, since the JFU is pulling out all of the stops if it means getting Sae to stay in Japan for good.

“Tomorrow,” Sae reaffirms.

I’m a nice guy, Aiku tries to remind himself. This is what nice guys do. I’m boosting team morale. Yeah. That’s all. Captain’s duties.

Still, as he chases after Sae, who apparently doesn’t know what the word ‘stroll’ means and prefers to do everything at a brisk pace more akin to a jog, he thinks that this entire ridiculous assignment feels more like a babysitter’s duties than anything. 

“Are you serious?” your father says. In the background, the TV is playing a game between Re Al and Barcha, which is rather fitting.

“Deadly,” you say, untying the laces of your sneakers and putting them with the rest of your shoes. “It was actually him.”

“Sae Itoshi,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s back from Spain?”

“Seems like it,” you say, though now that he mentions it, you’re as confused as he is. Why is Sae Itoshi here instead of Madrid? You glance at the TV — Barcha has just scored, and the cameras are sweeping through the crowds, showing the excited fans cheering — and wonder if maybe he was fired or something. You doubt that that’s what happened; after all, he’s a consistent player, and the last time he was in a match, he even managed to outmaneuver that freaky striker who plays for Bastard München, so it would make zero sense for Re Al to let him go. Besides, even if they did, you’re sure there’s dozens of clubs that would be willing to take him, so there must be another reason for his presence in Japan.

“Huh,” your father says. “Well. Good for him.” 

“I guess so,” you say. “If I ever see him again, I’ll ask him what he’s doing in town.”

Your father chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and giving you a thumbs up. “Yeah, you do that. Let me know what he says.”

You laugh, too, sitting down at the counter and eating a plate of reheated leftovers, because you know as well as your father that the idea of you ever seeing Sae Itoshi again is more than a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice thought, and anyways the chances are never zero, so for the moment, you allow yourself to imagine. 

Aiku is seriously questioning if Sae Itoshi was sent to this earth — or at least to this country — as some kind of punishment for him. He’s not really sure what’s done that would invite such cosmic retribution, but maybe it’s one of those…what did that girl call them? Karmic debts? She had said something about the sins of his past life and all, though he can’t recall the specifics.

Wait. That’s wrong. He just never learnt them in the first place, so how could he remember them in the first place? He had broken up with her before she could explain her theories to him. This prompts a wince from him, which is further fueled by the way his t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat. It’s a distinctively uncomfortable feeling, and he’s contemplating complaining, even though it probably won’t do much.

“Shut up,” Sae says.

“I didn’t say anything!” Aiku protests, more than a little spooked, since he actually had been about to say something before Sae had cut him off.

“I can see you making faces at me,” Sae says. Considering Sae is walking ahead of him and to the side, Aiku’s not quite sure how he could tell anything about what sorts of faces Aiku is making, but unfortunately, he’s uncannily correct as always, so Aiku schools his expression into a smooth, neutral one that won’t beget reprimand from his companion.

“I can’t believe you insisted on going here straight after practice,” he says.

“This is the same time we went yesterday,” Sae says. He’s kind of an insufferable smart-ass, Aiku thinks to himself, though he’d never say as much to Sae’s face. After all, unlike his counterpart, he’s considerate like that, and he always has been.

“So? We didn’t have practice yesterday,” Aiku says. “You couldn’t even let me shower?”

“You take forever in the showers,” Sae says. This is rich, for Sae is notoriously obsessive with his skincare, and of the entire team, he takes far and away the longest to get ready. But, then again, Aiku supposes that idiocy is one of those illnesses which spreads further and further until all of one’s perspectives are tainted with the virus.

“I could’ve been quick,” he says. “It would’ve been better if I could’ve at least rinsed off so I didn’t look so gross. I want to impress that Y/N girl if she’s there again today.”

“You’re not her type,” Sae says dismissively. “So why bother?”

“How do you know? Are the two of you childhood buddies or something?” Aiku says. Sae glances at him, and of course he’s way too holier-than-thou to properly sneer, but the corners of his lips turn downwards to the same effect.

“Not too hard to figure out,” he says. 

“Well, hold on just a moment! I got the vibe that she was totally into me yesterday!” Aiku says. He actually did not get any such vibes from the barista; the only thing she seemed into was clocking out, but he’s Oliver Aiku. If he can’t get a girl, he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not like Sae would be able to tell one way or another — Aiku and his teammate Sendou have a theory that Sae was created in a lab as some kind of experiment to make the world’s best midfielder, because the guy really doesn’t have any knowledge or concern for anything that’s unrelated to soccer.

True to form, Sae blinks unsurely. “Really?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Aiku boasts, although then he’s narrowing his eyes, because such a question is so out of Sae’s character that for a moment, he wonders if there’s been a mistake and he’s actually taken some other team member of his along for this ridiculous errand.

Messy red hair. Teal eyes. Forehead creased with a frown. No, it’s definitely Sae Itoshi, that’s for sure. Just Sae Itoshi in a mood that he’s never seen before. If they were a little closer, he’d ask him what’s the big deal now, but as it is, the question would probably go unappreciated.

“Hm,” Sae says. “Whatever. We’ll see.”

“Sure,” Aiku says slowly, reaching out to hold open the door of the cafe so he can enter behind Sae, since his lovely, amazing, wonderful, kindhearted teammate so generously left it to slam shut in his face. 

What a total dick. He makes a mental note to ask the JFU for a raise, because whatever they’re giving him at the moment is definitely not enough. 

“They’re back again!” your coworker says. You’re still mad at him for yesterday, so you’ve been giving him the silent treatment the entire shift. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, but his pitiful attempts at reconciliation never include an apology, so you haven’t budged yet.

He waits for you to respond, but you’re pretty sure he’s making stuff up to get you to pay attention to him, and anyways they could be in reference to anyone, so you continue to pour milk into a cup, acting like it’s an all-consuming task which you cannot possibly complete without the utmost of concentration.

“I’m being serious! Y/N, it’s Sae Itoshi and, uh, that other dude!” he says. Your hand wobbles for the briefest moment, but you conclude that he’s most likely lying, so you steady yourself and continue pouring the milk. “Fine, be that way! I’ll serve them myself!”

You can’t even say something snarky in response, because that’ll still be a win on his part, so you huff particularly loudly to no one in particular and leave it at that.

A few minutes later, he’s back, looking so contrite that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d actually be worried. Unfortunately, you very much are upset with him, so you find it on the whole to be rather hilarious and have to suppress a laugh. 

He must take your amusement as a signal to talk, because he speaks eagerly and quickly, stumbling over his words and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N, they’re insisting on seeing you, I told them you’re working right now — I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to do that, right? But I did, and now they really want to see you!” he says.

You’re still not entirely convinced, but if this is an act, then it’s a dedicated one, and you don’t think that he possesses that much dedication in all of his body, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth.

“Fine,” you say. “But if you’re lying, I swear I’m telling our manager to fire you.”

“I’m not!” he squeaks, darting back to the counter, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to catch up to him.

When you reach the front, you’re surprised to see that it is in fact Sae Itoshi and…whoever that other guy is. Aiku? Yes, that sounds right. It’s Sae and Aiku, and one looks supremely inconvenienced — this would be Sae, of course — while his friend is running a hand through his sweaty hair, flashing you a grin.

You smile back at him, because that’s what you’re trained to do, and you don’t want your coworker to tattle to your manager that you’re not abiding by the cafe’s standards of customer service. Then you stare at them until one of them starts speaking, because that’s what your entire job is, and no matter how badly you want to start gushing to Sae Itoshi about how big of a fan you are, you have to remain professional.

“Is there anything I can do for you two?” you finally say. This prompts Aiku to nod, nudging Sae in the side, which earns him a dark glare.

“I want the number two, and he’ll take the number five,” Aiku says when Sae does not speak up. You want to tell him that nobody orders like that, but you’re not supposed to and it’s really not that big of a deal either way, so you just ring up the order.

“Sounds good. Would you like to pay with cash or credit?” you say.

“Credit,” Sae says, pulling out a card that probably has a monthly spending limit higher than what you make in a year. “And we’re splitting the bill, just so you know.”

What you want to say is Wow, Sae, you’re somehow even cooler in real-life! Who’s your favorite soccer player? What’s your favorite food? Do you like Spain better, or here? What you actually say is: “No problem. I’ll have those right out for you.”

“Thanks,” Aiku says. He’s kind of charming, in a sense; you can think of several friends you have that would probably swoon at the way his smile stretches across his face, but you don’t really see the appeal. Or, maybe you would normally, but at the moment, he’s standing next to Sae Itoshi, so it’s a little hard to focus on him at all.

“Yeah,” Sae says. “Thank you. Y/N.”

He’s probably just reading off of your name tag in an effort to seem more friendly and relatable and humble and all. It’s a classic PR move that he was probably taught as soon as he joined Re Al. You know about it, though, so it shouldn’t work on you. It won’t work on you. He’s just doing what he’s trained to, the same as you are.

It works on you. You run to the back and hide your face in your hands and squeal, because Sae fucking Itoshi just said your name. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Aiku says.

“Are we just listing curse words now?” Sae says dryly. “Bitch, cunt, hell. There’s three more for you.”

“You like the barista!” Aiku accuses. If Sae was drinking something, he would’ve spit it out just then, but he’s not, so he just chokes on his saliva. 

“No way,” he says.

“Yes, you do! How else can you explain this?” Aiku says, pitching his voice up in an imitation of Sae’s. “Yeah. Thank you. Y/N. Since when do you say thank you to people?”

“Since always? I have manners,” Sae says.

“I’ve never heard you say it,” Aiku says.

“Maybe that’s more telling about you than me,” Sae suggests. Aiku scowls at him.

“You definitely like her,” he says. “No judgment here, man. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Sae says. “Even if I did like her — mind you, I don’t — she’s clearly into you.”

“Me?” Aiku says. “I was just messing with you earlier, you know. Anyways, yeah, I think she’s hot, but, like, you’ve never liked a girl before, right? So I wouldn��t get in the way of that. This is a big step.”

“You’re not getting in the way of anything. Do what you want,” Sae says. 

Aiku’s already pulling out his phone and texting Sendou: big news. Lab experiment just evolved. Feels attraction and jealousy now.

“Uh-huh,” he responds absentmindedly. Sendou texts back with about fifty mind-blown emojis, and he snickers to himself, liking the message.

“Anyways, who told you I’ve never liked anyone before?” Sae says defensively. Aiku just about drops his phone, leaning forwards in interest. Could it be? Are he and Sae actually bonding? Is Sae about to tell him about his first love — who apparently is not this barista?

“I just guessed. Was I wrong?” Aiku says. He’s already trying to come up with who Sae might’ve liked — a childhood neighbor or friend? A women’s soccer player he admired? A girl he saw once in Spain but never again? Oh, that last one is particularly romantic…he’s just about accepted it as fact when Sae glares at him.

“No,” he says. Aiku’s dreams are shattered in an instant, but he can only shake his head while chuckling, both because Sae has inadvertently admitted that he actually does like that Y/N girl, and because he was an idiot for believing that ‘Sae Itoshi’ and ‘romantic’ could ever belong together in one sentence.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“What do I do?” you say. You and your coworker are back on speaking terms, mostly because you have no one else to talk to and are so desperate that you’re willing to temporarily forgive him. 

“Make their drinks?” he says. You give him a dirty look as you begin mixing up their orders. 

“Not about that. I’m such a huge fan of Sae’s, and this is the second time I’m making a drink for him. It’s kind of like fate, don’t you think? Should I try to talk to him or something?” you say.

“Do you want to?” your coworker says. It’s a slower time of day, so he has nothing to do but sit and watch you — at least, nothing immediate. There’s certainly things he could be doing, but you’re not about to chide him when you’re the reason he’s slacking off.

“Obviously! But what am I supposed to even say? I’ll sound like a creep if I just start acting like a fan-girl!” you say.

“That’s true,” your coworker says. “You kind of sound like one even now…”

“Ugh, if you’re not going to be helpful, then go organize the storeroom or something!”

“What about her makes you like her?” Aiku presses.

“Are we still on this?” Sae says, as if they’ve been talking about it for hours. “I don’t like her.”

“It’s not like you talked to her for a while…was it really just her looks?” Aiku says. “Damn. Didn’t think you were the shallow type.”

“I am not the shallow type!” Sae says.

“That sounds like something that a shallow person would say,” Aiku teases.

“Shut up,” Sae says. Aiku doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times Sae’s said that particular phrase to him. Maybe if he counted all of the fingers and all of the toes of every single person in the world, he would get kind of close to what that number might be. “I’m not shallow, I don’t like her, and she’s obviously way more interested in talking to you than me, so get off my back.”

Aiku whistles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m telling the JFU that you were the one who sent me back to Spain,” Sae informs him bluntly. Aiku isn’t sure if that’s a joke or a legitimate threat. It’s hard to tell with Sae sometimes.

“Are you serious?” Aiku says.

“Deadly,” Sae says.

Yep, Aiku decides. He’s serious. 

“If only that Aiku dude wasn’t there,” you lament, setting the first drink in the pick-up area and calling out Aiku’s name before returning to finish Sae’s drink. “It’d be way easier to talk to Sae without someone there to judge everything I’m saying.”

“Do you think he’d even care?” your coworker says. You shrug.

“No idea. It’s intimidating to talk to guys around their friends, though. You’re a guy yourself, so you wouldn’t get it,” you say.

“Are they even friends?” your coworker says. “Doesn’t seem like they get along that well.”

In unison, the two of you turn so you can look at the duo, who are sitting at a table right within your line of sight. As your coworker said, they don’t look like they’re friends in the slightest. Aiku is sipping on his drink with a smirk, and Sae looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be sitting there with his not-friend.

“The point still stands,” you say. 

“Guess so,” your coworker says. Just then, Sae Itoshi happens to glance over, making direct eye contact with you. Your eyebrows raise, and your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught. Aiku turns to follow Sae’s line of sight as you weigh your options. Should you pretend like you weren’t doing anything? Should you wave?

You decide to just smile again before returning to the drink you were supposed to be working on. Your coworker, who saw the entire exchange, cannot stop laughing.

“It’s over for you,” he says. “He definitely thinks you’re a creepy fan-girl now. You can kiss that autograph goodbye.”

“You’re lucky I’m too lazy to remake this drink,” you say. “Because otherwise, I’d spill it on you.”

“That’s against company policy,” he says.

“By accident, of course,” you say with a malicious grin.

“That’s against company policy, too!” 

“Look, she just smiled at you. I bet she was looking at you the entire time,” Sae says coolly. “You should ask for her number. You already said you think she’s beautiful.”

“I said she’s hot. I’m not all poetic and shit like that,” Aiku says. “And I wouldn’t do that. It’s against the bro code.”

“We’re not ‘bros’, so you can put that out of your head,” Sae says.

“What if I help you get her number?” Aiku says. Sae tries very hard to maintain his nonchalant look, but Aiku can tell that his curiosity has been piqued. “Will you consider me a bro then? At the minimum, will you tell the JFU that I’ve done a great job at showing you around and making you feel welcome?”

Please please please please please I really need a fucking raise Sae I’m broke please please please — 

“Sure,” Sae says.

“Sure?” Aiku says. “Yes! Okay, this will be easy.”

Sae scoffs. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think.”

“Believe me,” Aiku says. “You’re in the presence of a master.”

Sae doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the most disgusted look Aiku has ever seen on anyone, Sae or not. He’d say something, but he’s pretty sure he deserves it at least a little, and anyways a possible raise is way more important to him than being right, so he keeps his mouth shut, simply giving Sae a double-thumbs-up. He’s going to ace this new assignment, and then maybe he’ll actually be paid what he’s worth instead of pennies on the dime.

You’re about to call out Sae’s name when you realize that for some reason, both Aiku and Sae are standing there and waiting for you. You furrow your brow, because it’s both a menacing and a comical sight — the hulking Aiku, who looks like he’s about to go punch a criminal on television before flipping his hair and telling the ladies that there’s enough of him to go around, and the slender Sae Itoshi, who you can’t imagine doing anything but slamming a winning pass to one of his teammates, invariably leading to a soccer ball in his opponent’s net.

“Uh, hello,” you say.

“Hello,” Aiku says.

“Hi,” Sae says.

“I have your drink,” you say to Sae.

“I know,” he says, taking it from your hand. Of course — why else would they be here? They must’ve seen you finishing up the drink and rightly assumed that it was theirs.

“Right,” you say. Neither of them go to leave, and now you wonder if they just don’t understand social cues or something like that. “Did you guys want to order something else? My coworker would be happy to take you at the counter.”

“No,” Sae says.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“We will,” Sae says with the utmost of confidence. Aiku groans and then thumps him on the back. You have a feeling you probably don’t want to know what the significance of the gesture is, but then you realize that this is probably the only chance you’ll get to have a proper conversation with Sae Itoshi, so you shove your concerns aside.

“Wait! If it doesn’t bother you too much, can I ask you a question?” you say. It’s an incredibly awkward way of going about it, but given how awkward this entire interaction has been, you don’t think it’s a huge deal. 

“Go ahead,” Aiku says. You weren’t asking him, but you guess the permission covers them both, so you square your shoulders and face Sae Itoshi, who seems entirely confused that you’re looking at him instead of Aiku. You’re not sure why he would be, since between the two of them he’s the celebrity, but maybe there’s some weird dynamic going on that you’re unaware of.

It doesn’t matter to you, though. You only have one thing to ask. You’ll never cross paths with Sae again, will you? So it’s fine. You can act a little embarrassing, and anyways, you barely make above minimum wage, so if your manager gets too upset and fires you for ‘unprofessional conduct’ or something, it won’t be a huge loss. It’ll be worth it, even, considering this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and your coworker is busy reorganizing the storeroom like you told him to, so he’s not around to spy on you and report back to your stodgy old manager.

Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth and begin to speak. 

Aiku hadn’t dared to even dream of the possibility that the barista might already like Sae, too. Why would she? Sae had just been all weird and rude to her in the couple of times that they had spoken, so all in all she’d have to be somewhat of a masochist, or a Re Al fan (which was essentially the same thing, given the losing streak that Re Al had been on for the last month or so), to be into him. But sometimes miracles did happen and baristas were masochists, because the girl was turning to Sae with shimmering eyes and a hopeful expression and it was all going to go so well—

“What are you even doing in Japan in the first place?”

Did he hear her right? Sae is bewildered as well, but Y/N isn’t acting like she’s just asked the most ridiculous question she could’ve possibly asked. What is Sae doing in Japan? Well, he happens to be a citizen of the nation, so there’s one explanation…Aiku wants to facepalm, because now his plans have been ruined and Sae’s confidence has probably been crushed.

“Pardon?” Sae says. Aiku had told him not to act so cranky and old-man-ish when he approaches the girl, but honestly, at this point, there’s no helping him, so he doesn’t even bother with a correction.

“Why are you in Japan?” she says again, all bright and innocent and cheery. It somehow feels like she’s been faking things so far, and that this is the real her, which she’s been holding back up until this point. Aiku isn’t so sure if that’s a good thing; privately, he believes it would’ve been better if she kept holding back just a little bit longer. Long enough for her to reject Sae — who still claims he’s not into her and is just trying to ‘be friendly’, as if friendliness is something he’s well known for — and then move on with her day.

“My passport expired?” Sae says, phrasing it more like a question. “So I had to come back and get it renewed?”

His voice ticks up at the end of every sentence unsurely. It’s almost cute, like he’s a little baby chick. Aiku’s fond of chicks, so he decides he’ll step in. Just this once.

“He’s visiting from Spain to play for the Japanese U-20 team in an upcoming exhibition match,” he explains.

“Oh, wow,” she says. “But I thought you said you would rather give up on soccer or play with German college kids than ever play soccer for Japan?”

Aiku raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of such sentiments, and though he’s not exactly shocked, he can’t help feeling a bit miffed. When he glances over at Sae, there’s not a trace of remorse on his face, and so he wrinkles his nose.

Forget the raise and the baby-chick-esque mannerisms alike. He’s done helping this ungrateful, no-good, lame-as-hell, girl-repelling loser for free. If Sae wants any further assistance, he’ll have to beg for it. 

“How did you know I said that?” Sae says. You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize you’ve exposed yourself.

“I, um, I was just guessing!” you say.

“Guessing?” he repeats. You swear, because that’s actually a worse explanation than the original one, and then you hang your head, because if the cat’s out of the bag, then there’s no way you can put it back in.

“It’s a quote from one of your interviews,” you mumble.

“What?” It’s Aiku, who immediately frowns when he realizes he’s butted in. Sae gives him an odd look out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” you say. “The last game you played in, when you stole the ball from that Bastard München striker, was amazing! To tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re in the area instead of back in Madrid. It’s a little unbelievable, you see.”

“Ah,” Sae says, and for some reason he looks uncomfortable. “Well. Yeah. It was just the issues with my passport and all. I decided to play for the U-20s because I was offered a good deal, but it’s right back to Madrid for me after that.”

“That makes sense,” you say. It’s awkward again, but in a different way. You don’t know what to say. You don’t think he does either. His drink is probably cold now, and you’re surprised that Aiku’s eyes aren’t stuck in the back of his head, given how frequently he’s been rolling them. “Can I have your autograph?”

“No,” Sae says immediately. You’re a little taken aback, and to be honest, he looks kind of horrified himself, but you know better than to nag, so you only nod at him.

“No worries—” you begin before you’re cut off by a grumbling Aiku.

“He’ll give you his number instead. Here,” Aiku says, listing off a series of digits too rapidly for you to remember. “He’ll write it down, for you, right, Sae?”

And then, to your utter disbelief, Sae Itoshi is pulling out a pen and a piece of paper from who knows where, and he’s humming in agreement.

“Right,” he says, and then he’s handing you a note with his phone number written on it in neat print and his signature in flowing cursive. “You can call me later. If you want. Y/N.”

The way he speaks is stilted and low, but you don’t mind it. Tucking the piece of paper into your apron pocket, you beam at him.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll call you. I still have more things to ask you, so it’s good that you gave me this.”

“Yes,” Sae says. “Yes, you can do that if you’d like.”

Then he and Aiku are leaving the coffee shop, their drinks in hand, and you’re standing there in awe, wondering if that actually just happened or if it was nothing but a particularly vivid flight of fancy. 

If it’s the latter, then you almost hope it’s one you don’t ever escape from. 

“You’re welcome,” Aiku says as they leave the cafe. 

“I didn’t say thank you, you lukewarm oaf,” Sae says. Aiku shrugs. He’s hard to ruffle, after all. It’s the reason why he stepped in and rescued Sae from that little mistake of his. He just couldn’t bear the thought of his dear junior losing the girl of his dreams because of a slip of his tongue, even if aforementioned junior is the insufferable smart-ass type.

Well, the thought of the money he’ll make if Sae speaks of him highly to the JFU doesn’t hurt, either, but that’s less altruistic, so he prefers to stick to the first explanation.

“I bet you feel it, though,” Aiku says.

“Shut up,” Sae says. 

It’s a good thing babies are born every minute. Otherwise, given how frequently Sae says that particular phrase, Aiku really might run out of things to count on. 

You’ve typed the number on the piece of paper into your phone, and now you’re staring at it blankly, wondering if you should press the green call button. What if it was a prank? What if it wasn’t? Because then you’ll have to actually talk to Sae Itoshi, and you’re not so sure you can do that.

In a fit of inspiration, you slam your index finger against your screen and hold your phone up to your ear. It rings a couple of times, each subsequent one worsening the pit in your stomach, but then it stops ringing entirely, which can only mean one thing: Sae, if this really is his number, has answered.

“Hello?” you say.

“Hello?” he responds. “Y/N?”

“Yes!” you say. “It’s me. Y/N. Like you said.”

“Cool,” he says. “It’s Sae. Which I guess you knew, since you called me.”

“The confirmation was nice,” you say, internally sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s mannerly but also a little sarcastic, albeit not in a mean way. You don’t mind it much. “You said you had to ask me some things?”

The two of you spend the next few minutes in a setting kind of like an interview, in that you drill him with questions and he answers them all patiently. He’s kind about it, humoring you even though he doesn’t have to, and he never threatens to hang up, which you do appreciate.

“Would you mind if I ask a question, too?” he says when you’ve taken a break to drink some water.

“Go ahead! Although I’m not as interesting as you are,” you say.

“I think you’re probably way more interesting,” he admits. “Anyways. Are you free next weekend?”

“Uh, I think I have a shift on Saturday, but to be honest, my coworker owes me, so he can cover it. Why?” you say.

“The exhibition game that I’m playing with the U-20s for. You should come watch,” he says.

“Oh! Sure, where should I get tickets? I’d have gotten them already if I knew you were playing,” you say.

“I’m allowed to invite someone,” he says. “Friends or family. So I’m inviting you.”

“Don’t you have actual friends that you can invite?” you say before gasping. “Sorry! Sorry, that was super insensitive and rude of me. Of course I’m honored to come, I’m just confused about why I’m the one you’re inviting. Me. I’ve literally made coffee for you twice, and that’s about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he says before pausing. “Um, look, Aiku told me to say this, so if it’s uncomfortable, then blame him…but I think you’re, er, beautiful?”

Your mind short-circuits. “Huh?”

“I don’t know! He’s the one who has experience, I’m just taking his advice!” Sae says, his tone souring immediately afterwards. “Trust me, it’s not like I want to. There’s many things I’d rather do than follow Oliver Aiku’s advice, but at the moment, it’s the best I can do.”

“Beautiful,” you repeat. It’s such an elegant adjective. You’ve been called pretty before, and there’s been a fair share of guys who have considered you to be hot, but beautiful…it’s nice. It’s really nice.

“Yeah,” Sae finally says. “Basically.”

“I’ll be there,” you say. There’s something like a scream bubbling in your throat, but you fight it back, knowing that it’s of the utmost importance that you maintain a relaxed demeanor.

“Great,” Sae says. “See you.”

“See you,” you say, and then you hang up before he can say anything further, because you’re already on the verge of combustion and you don’t think you can handle anything more.

Throwing your phone across the room, you give in and scream. There’s thundering footsteps, and then your father is throwing the door to your bedroom open, whipping his head around wildly.

“Is everything alright? Why are you screaming?” he says, heaving for breath, probably because he just sprinted from his spot on the couch to your bedroom in record time.

“Sae Itoshi!” you say.

“Yes?” he says, the rate of his inhales and exhales lowering as he realizes there’s no active threat to your life or property. “What about him?”

“He told me I’m beautiful and invited me to watch his game next weekend,” you say, knowing that this is going to make your father — a fellow Re Al fan — freak out.

You wait, counting down as he processes the news, unable to contain your exuberant grin, knowing exactly what’s coming. Three, two, one—

“What?”

[22ayla21]

Hello hope you have a good day! Can I request Kayden Break × civilian! Worker reader. As in reader's a normal, rational person, going to work and all that. She appears to be a perfectly polite lady but has a psycho streak a mile wide. She calms Kayden's reckless ideas down but gives him crazy ideas as well. Reader doesn't quite understand the world of Awakeners but still is very supportive of her hardworking husband.

For example:

Reader: Kayden honey, that's the 3000th pushup you've done in 2 hours.

Kayden: Yes I have to, gotta fuck up that bitch Andrei.

Reader: Who's Andrei?

Kayden: So you remember your manager Dave? The one who tried to pin the blame on that intern you liked? Andrei's the same person except he's in the top 10.

Reader:.....hm. Metal conducts electricity right? You can take my favourite knife if you wanna burn his eyes out or melt his brains or something?

Kayden: Jesus woman you should have been an awakener.

Reader: Absolutely not. So when are you inviting this doctor frie.... Ah no acquaintance, of yours to dinner? I'd love to meet him.

Kayden: ... I'm not his fr-

The city was still asleep when she got up, made breakfast and went to work as usual. A regular office, regular colleagues, regular reports. Everything would have been boring if not for one "but": her husband was an awakened one, who was feared even by the strongest of the strong.

Kayden knew that his wife was a rational, reasonable woman, and deep down sometimes he even thanked fate for this. If not for her, perhaps he would have already gotten into another crazy battle with a group of awakened ones, just for fun (and maybe died). But as soon as he had a new brilliant idea, she always stopped, narrowing her eyes, smiling so sweetly that any normal person would have goosebumps.

- Kayden, dear, do you really want to destroy half the city to test the limits of this guy's capabilities? - She put a cup of coffee in front of him, smiling. - How about something less destructive? Like... plant something unexpected on him during a fight? That's a strategy, right?

And Kayden would stop. He would wince, as if trying to find a catch, but her suggestion sounded reasonable. Safe. And most importantly, funny. She, not delving into the intricacies of the world of the awakened, just shrugged. Who was she to judge a man who loved his job so much? The main thing was that he returned home alive.

One day, Kartein approached her and carefully asked:

- How do you even cope with such a husband?

She smiled, sipping her coffee, and said slowly:

- Isn't it obvious? You just have to be a little crazy sometimes.

Kayden returned home late, with a slight smell of ozone in the air - a sign of using his power. She sighed, not looking up from her laptop.

- What is it this time? - she asked in a casual tone.

- A couple of idiots decided to test if I'm really that strong. — He shrugged, throwing off his jacket. — Now they know.

She nodded, continuing to type. Then, looking up thoughtfully, she asked,

— You let them live?

— Of course. — He snorted. — What do you think of me?

— I think you're my husband, which means you're a good person deep down. — She chuckled. — But just in case, if you ever get caught, I'll be your lawyer. And I'll have to come up with some very interesting excuses.

Kayden laughed, settling into the couch.

— You're too dangerous, you know that?

— Yeah, but you like it. — She shrugged. — Now get in the shower, or the smell of lightning will kill me.

[lara-kaminari]

Mr. Gaunt

Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader (+18!)

Ominis Gaunt is not an easy man to satisfy.

Content warning: Explicit content, smut, nsfw, p in v

Ominis Gaunt is not an easy person to satisfy.

Mr. Gaunt likes a cup of unsweetened coffee waiting for him every morning on the left side of his desk, right under the lamp his best friend gave him when he returned from his honeymoon in Egypt. The cup should be at the perfect height so that Ominis can sit down and just reach out his hand to drink it.

Mr. Gaunt always likes to have lunch at the same time, in his office, without noise or distracting incidents. He likes a good piece of steak with mashed potatoes, the steak rare and the potatoes should be well trodden but should not be out of shape.

Everything must be perfect or the wrath of Mr. Gaunt will be unleashed.

She knew this, although her first time there she thought they were mere exaggerations. She was only there because her parents considered her a person incapable of taking care of herself and who “needs to know the real world.” Yeah, right, you steal a dragon's egg for a bet and suddenly you're a girl who needs to work in the summer to become a useful member of society.

But this does not feel like an adequate punishment to reform her.

It was a foolish mistake. She was in a hurry and didn't leave the cup exactly under the shade of the lamp, Ominis' hand over stretched and the object fell to the ground. A completely ruined morning. As if it couldn't get any worse, not only the mug fell, but also a small crystal figurine, a gift from the renowned bearer of ancient magic.

That's how she ended up nailed to the wall in the office, with her skirt and panties down, her tits exposed and her pussy being fucked mercilessly.

—Mr. Gaunt, please…

—Shut up, I don't want to hear your complaints.

His hips thrust deeper inside her, her wet pussy drawing him in barely able to hide her moans and in fear of being overheard by the workers in the joint room.

—O-ominis, wait, we can't be too…!

She barely manages to say another word, Ominis pushes her against the desk and rips off what little clothing she still had left. He doesn't care that her clothes are damaged or that she has to work overtime to replace the skirt that now has an unprofessional cut on one side.

Mr. Gaunt couldn't care less as he places one of his secretary's legs over his shoulders and slams his thick cock into her once again. Each thrust sends the girl's body bouncing up and down on the table, her hard, throbbing clit taking Ominis's rough caresses to her heart's content.

She reaches out to grab the sides of the desk and rolls her eyes as the head of her boss's cock slides perfectly against her g-spot. She could swear that the mere stimulation is about to make her cry.

—That's what you wanted, isn't it? That's why you piss me off, you just want this slutty cunt to be filled with my cum…

He's close, she'd be lying if she said she doesn't know when she's about to come and what her orgasms are like. Mr. Gaunt likes to cum inside her, especially when he's angry. Mr. Gaunt doesn't know that she has begun to enjoy that feeling.

A thick warmth fills her. Her body trembles once more, another orgasm rushes over her and her nails dig into the dull edge of the table. His cock continues to squirt and more cum pools in her loins. The man's seed leaks and squirts like a mess, but at least they are both satisfied.

Then it's like everything is back to normal until dismissal time when her parents come to pick her up. Everyone goes crazy when they see Sebastian Sallow and his amazing wife walk in.

Ominis Gaunt's best friends.

—How did my daughter behave today? I hope she didn't give you any trouble. —Said Sebastian.

—Not at all, she definitely didn't inherit your bad behavior.

—Very funny; darling, say goodbye to your uncle Ominis.

Ominis Gaunt is not easy to please, he has perfect standards. He is perfect. Impeccable. Flawless. Perhaps the only dirt on him is seen behind closed doors and she's not one to share his secret.

—See you tomorrow, Uncle Ominis.

[fuckingsimpthatswho]

One Piece incorrect Quotes

part 2 because they are funny

Sanji: Wait, hold up, why you draw yourself like that? Usopp: Uh, like what? Sanji: Like with gorgeous, muscular legs. Usopp: Uh, this is what I look like. Sanji:

Usopp: THIS IS WHAT I LOOK LIKE! Sanji: Okay, then I want big beefy arms. Hot ones. Zoro: I wanna have a cowboy hat! Usopp: Okay, arms and hat. draws them Luffy: Ooh, give me a cowboy hat too! Usopp: You can't just take Zoro's hat idea, Luffy! He thought it up all by himself like a good person! Come up with your own thing! Luffy: BUT I WANNA LOOK COOL! Nami: Put Luffy on one of those stupid baby tricycles. Luffy: NO!! Usopp: Tricycle, done. draws it Brook, want anything? Nami, making finger guns: Pew pew. Usopp: A blaster?! No, that's not really our style, Brook. Brook, making finger guns: Pew pew. Usopp: You know what, okay. draws it But it's just for holding, not for shooting.

Brook: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life. Franky: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back… Robin: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this. Zoro: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years. Nami: I knew I lost that potential somewhere. Sanji: Mental stability, my old friend! Brook: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

Franky: From now on we will be using code names. Franky: You can address me as Eagle One. Franky: Chopper is “been there done that”. Franky: Robin is “currently doing that”. Franky: Brook is “it happened once in a dream”. Franky: Nami is “if I had to pick a gal”. Franky: And Usopp is.. Franky: Eagle Two Usopp: Oh thank god.

Luffy, watching Zoro and Sanji from afar: Two Bros, Chillin in a hot tub. Five feet apart because they think they’re not gay, BUT THEY REALLY ARE-

Usopp, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Nami: Yeah, sure. A few minutes later Nami: Here you go. Usopp: Nami: Sanji: Why am I here?

Chopper: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. Usopp: Usopp: I'm gonna tell them. Nami: Don't you dare.

Nami: We’re going to a candy store?! Usopp: No! It’s nighttime, candy stores are closed. Chopper: We’re gonna ROB a candy store?!?! Usopp, sighing: No-

Chopper: How do I ask someone out? Nami: Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what, my bed has room for two. Chopper: No! Usopp: Twinkle twinkle little star, we can do it in a car. Chopper: Stop! Robin: Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily I can make you scream. Chopper: I feel like the last one is verging dangerously into serial killer territory.

Chopper: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Nami? Nami: Usopp, easily. Usopp, laughing: What the fuck, man. Nami: Well, Sanji would be too easy. They’d probably be into it. Sanji, now standing in the doorway: What the fuck, man!?

Chopper: Today at 7 am, Robin poured a Monster energy drink in their coffee, said "I'm going to die" and drank the whole thing. Nami: I watched Robin brew their coffee with Monster instead of water. Three cups in two hours. I think they ascended into the astral realm. Usopp: The survivability of the human race never fails to amaze me.

Franky: Know why I called you in here? Robin: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic. Franky: Stops pouring two glasses of wine. Accidentally?

Sanji: Stops making lunch an stand there confused

Franky: What are you in the mood for? Robin: World domination. Franky: That's a bit ambitious. Robin: You are my world. Franky: Aww… Robin: Franky: Robin: Franky: OH.

[ironwoman18]

Savage Love

Michael Kaiser, the German emperor and the best player Germany currently has, was in love with his teammate and rival Yoichi Isagi but he could never admit it out loud especially when he’s in a relationship with Rin Itoshi, the PXG genius.

Or at least that was the situation a couple of months ago…

Isagi seemed down after a National Team break, Japan had to play against China and Australia in their road to the 2026 World Cup, while Germany was playing the Nations League against France and Spain.

“Yoichi, what’s happening? You aren’t playing as usual” said Michael, pushing him with his shoulder after finishing the practice.

Isagi clenched his fists and Kaiser noticed that “I’m dealing with some personal things…” 

“Well deal with them outside of my field” Kaiser was one of the captain of the team, Sae was the main captain of the Madrid but he won the status of leader with his goals and powerful presence “so get the fuck out if you need to” he hated to be rude, he wasn't the same teenager who was mean and full of himself when he was in the NEL, especially after that final match against PXG. 

Now he and Issgi play in Spain with Sae Itoshi and they destroy everyone in Europe as the most powerful offense.

“C...can I ask you something?” Said Isagi looking down. Kaiser sighed.

“Sure” they headed to a private room to speak “what's going on Yoichi?” 

“Rin broke up with me...” They caught him by surprise, Sae set a rule that they shouldn't talk about their personal life with the other players but some still do, but never Isagi so hearing this shocked him.

“Oh... I understand that it always affects our mood whenever it happens” said Kaiser, trying his best to be professional. He always hated Rin and wanted to destroy him. He wasn't a true genius, he was a prodigy so he had to work double hard to reach his goals, so Rin was his natural enemy “I will speak with the coach to give you some time” he was about to leave but Isagi’s voice stopped.

“Thank you... But I need your help” he looked at him and raised his eyebrow confused “I need your help, can we meet after practice?”

“Umm… s…sure” Michael agreed unsure.

Later that day they left the training camp and headed to a cafe nearby Kaiser’s apartment. They ordered a coffee and something to eat.

“Ok Yoichi, what’s going on?”

“Well I need your help with something…” he looked down blushing which somehow was cute to Kaiser “I need your help to get back with Rin”

Kaiser was confused by that “huh? What do you mean?” 

“He hates you and I want to make him feel jealous. What's better than someone he hates?”

Kaiser couldn’t argue with his logic, as usual Isagi’s logical reasoning was outstanding “yes, it’s the most logical thing to do” he looked at him “but why could I accept it? What’s the benefit for me?”

“Besides annoy Rin?” Kaiser smirked and nodded “Maybe don’t be a whore?” 

Kaiser laughed “That’s who I am” said him with a smirk “but I can't deny I want to annoy Rin. Ok I will do it” Isagi looked surprised “don't look too shocked Yoichi, I'm doing this because I want to help you and because it's funny seeing Rin angry” he smirked more.

While they ate they talked about the details and it will start at the Ballon D'ors where they were both nominated, after Real Madrid’s champions league trophy and Kaiser was competing against Nagi for a Puskás prize.

And now he was faking a relationship with Isagi, they even moved together and slept in the same bed.

If I woke up without ya

I don't know what I would do

Thought I could be single forever 'til I met you

Usually don't be fallin', be fallin', fallin' first

You got a way of keeping me comin' back to back

Deep down Kaiser was afraid because he had been noticing how Rin looked at both of them, holding hands or even sharing kisses knowing he was looking at them.

Kaiser was a fuck boy, he never had a really serious relationship with a boy or a girl, he just had sex and kiss but never anything serious. And the worst thing is he fell in love quickly, maybe he already had feelings but he was never willing to accept them.

Every time they decided to end it, after a tough match they HAD to have sex and they thought “maybe we can keep going” and the most amazing thing is that neither Kaiser nor Isagi flirted with anyone else, even though they wouldn’t mind but neither wanted that, sex was way to good.

Savage love

Did somebody, did somebody

Break your heart?

Lookin' like an angel

But your savage love

When you kiss me

I know you don't give two fucks

But I still want that

Your savage love

Your savage lo-lo-love

Your savage lo-lo-love

You could use me

'Cause I still want that (your savage)

Yoichi always has two personalities, he was a sweet nice boy and when he’s fired up, he changes and becomes a savage, Kaiser always thought it was only in football but he was also in bed.

Kaiser knows their kisses are meaningless for him, but for Kaiser, they mean something. Those kisses turn him into a pudding and fall even harder and a part of him hates this weakness.

He loves the savage love Yoichi is giving him, he wasn’t a stranger to be treated like trash but ever since he met Yoichi, he was at peace with his past and learned how to use it in football and in life.

Kaiser made sure to save abused kids from their parents, Kaiser’s Foundation, and this was part of using his past for good.

Baby, I hope that this ain't karma 'cause I get around

You wanna run it up, I wanna lock it down

Kaiser hoped that this wasn’t part of the karma because of his attitude towards love and relationships. 

He could see Isagi was willing to leave if Rin asked to but Kaiser wanted to keep this relationship, sadly he’s a coward and would never admit it. 

He can’t admit he loves Yoichi Isagi.

OOooOOooOO

I had this idea yesterday and I thought about these two guys. I doubt this will be a multiple chapter story. 

Hope you liked it.

[darkenedroses-world]

Unapologetically Yours — Smii7y x Reader

alt!reader, f!reader, hurt/comfort, protective boyfriend, request🦋

You hadn’t thought much of it when you were featured in the background of Jaren’s latest vlog with the boys. It had been an easy, fun day—Droid yelling nonsense, Pezzy’s laugh echoing through the coffee shop, and Jaren’s camera occasionally swinging your way as you rolled your eyes at their antics. But within hours of the video going live, you noticed the comments. At first, they were harmless:

Wait, who’s that?

Smii7y’s got a new friend???

But as more people piled on, the tone shifted:

Who’s the goth chick with Smii7y?

Alt girls are so cringe.

She looks like she just stepped out of a Hot Topic from 2007.

Emo 🖤 😂

You had thick skin—your style had always drawn mixed reactions—but this felt different. It wasn’t just strangers commenting on your Instagram; it was Jaren’s audience, people who barely knew you but thought they had the right to dissect your appearance. You tried to ignore it, scrolling past the harsh words as you sat in your usual spot on the couch. But as the hours dragged on, the comments swirled in your head, louder than anything else. When Jaren got home that evening, his bag slung over one shoulder, he immediately picked up on your mood. “Hey,” he said, dropping his things by the door. “Why do you look like someone stole your coffee order?” “I’m fine,” you lied, not looking up from your phone. “Mm-hmm,” he replied, unconvinced. He walked over, crouching in front of you and resting his hands on your knees. “What’s actually going on?” Your resolve cracked under his soft tone, and you let out a shaky sigh. “It’s nothing, really. Just… comments on the vlog.” Jaren frowned, his light eyes narrowing.

“What kind of comments?” “Just people being people,” you said with a forced laugh. “Making fun of how I look, calling me cringe… stuff like that.” “Let me see,” he said, holding out his hand. “No, it’s fine—” “Babe,” he interrupted, his voice firmer now. “Let me see.” Reluctantly, you handed over your phone, watching as his expression shifted from confusion to frustration. “What the fuck is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the comments. “Are they serious right now?” “It’s not a big deal,” you said quietly. “It is to me,” he shot back, setting your phone down and cupping your face in his hands. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit. You’re amazing, and if they can’t see that, it’s their problem.” The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, but you still couldn’t shake the sting of the comments. “I just… don’t want to make things harder for you,” you admitted. Jaren’s brows furrowed. “Harder for me? Babe, you make my life better in every possible way. If they can’t handle you being unapologetically you, that’s on them—not you.”

His words brought tears to your eyes, and he immediately pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly. “I’m handling this,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “No one talks about my girl like that.” Minutes later, Jaren was live. The usual playful energy he brought to his streams was absent, replaced with a calm, no-nonsense demeanor that had his chat immediately paying attention. “Alright,” he began, his voice steady but laced with irritation. “We need to talk about something.” His eyes flicked to the chat as messages flooded in:

What’s going on?

Uh-oh, Smii7y sounds pissed.

Drama???

“A recent vlog I did, there were some of you thought it was okay to make shitty comments about my girlfriend because of how she looks,” he continued. “Let me tell you something—that’s not okay. Not even a little bit.” He leaned closer to the mic, his light eyes narrowing. “She’s smart, funny, and the kindest person I know. And yeah, she’s alternative, her style is different and unique. You got a problem with that? Take it somewhere else, because I don’t want you here.” The chat exploded:

WHO TF WAS TALKING SHIT?

Alt girls are hot, y’all just jealous.

Smii7y popping OFF and I love it.

Jaren didn’t stop there. “Her style? It’s fucking awesome. She’s unapologetically herself, and if you can’t handle that, maybe take a look in the mirror and figure out why you feel the need to tear people down.” His words hit hard, and you watched from the doorway, your heart swelling. “And for the record,” he added, his voice softening slightly, “I’m so proud to have her in my life. She makes me better in every way.” When he ended the stream, Jaren turned to find you standing there, tears in your eyes. “Feel better?” he asked with a small smile. You nodded, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You didn’t have to do that.” “Yes, I did,” he said, kissing your temple. “You’re my girl, and I’ll always have your back. Always.”

[sunnydalelibrarian]

Buffy Rewatch: Season 2, Episodes 13-16

2x13: "Surprise"

The way Buffy's whole face changes when she sees Angel 🥺

So are prophetic dreams just par for the course for a Slayer?

Angel's so certain Drusilla's dead, like dude you know you're not that lucky

"Surprise me" Oh God, honey...

Willow and Oz are so cute

"I'd curb that impulse if I were you, Xander" - see, Jenny's figured out the correct way to deal with Xander: laugh when he's being funny, shut him down immediately when he's just being a pig

"Go to class, Xander" Giles is so done. It's "Sunnydale staff having no patience for Xander" Day apparently and I'm here for it

Actually who the fuck does Jenny's uncle think he is showing up at her workplace just to belittle and yell at her?

Something about how one daughter dies and every other daughter for the rest of time pays for it

Giles insisting that Buffy will have her birthday party, impending disaster or not 🥺

"Hey, did everybody see that guy just turn to dust?" Oh Oz, I adore you

Of course I like Angel more in this episode than I do in any other ever

"You two stink of humanity. You share affection and jealousy." "Yeah, what of it?" Spike is so not here for the Judge being judgey and I love it

2x14: "Innocence"

Judge: "I'm preparing." Spike: "Yeah, well, it's interesting to me that preparing looks a lot like sitting on your ass!"

Buffy waking up all alone. My poor baby 🥺

The thing that always gets me in this episode especially is that bit in Doppelgangland when Buffy says that a vampire's personality has nothing to do with the person it was and Angel says "Well, actually..." Motherfucker what does it say about what kind of person you were that this is your soulless-vampire self??

I'm obsessed with the fact that Jenny is almost always holding a cup of coffee. Like this woman drinks more coffee than Giles does tea and that's saying something!

"You can't see the stars, love. That's the ceiling. Also, it's day." One of my favourite Spike lines of all time tbh

I normally like the villains on this show, like most of them are "love to hate" kinda big bads and I get a lot of enjoyment out of watching them. Not Angelus. I actually just want him to die and I find myself wanting to skip over every scene he's in

"It just means that you'd rather be with someone you hate than be with me" Oh Willow... Someone give my baby girl a hug!

Jenny's uncle being like "vengeance is a living thing. It passes through generations. It commands. It kills." No dude, it's a generational trauma that's become a noose around your throat and hers!

It really shows how little value this man places on his own niece's life that he knows there's a way for Angel to turn back into a psycho-killer and he didn't fucking tell her. Like, he really put her in a room with a ticking time bomb and didn't think to tell her it might still explode

That, and he treats her like a fucking child

The butterflies on Buffy's wall 🥺 she's only a little girl!

The way they pull out a fucking rocket launcher will never not be funny to me

Oz just standing there pointing like "Uh? Arm!"😂

Giles' whole speech here means so much to me. I love how much he loves her 🥺

2x15: "Phases"

I love Oz. I've said that a lot but it's true

I don't say this often but poor Cordelia

I love how excited Giles gets about researching werewolves, like same dude

"I didn't jump. I took a tiny step and there conclusions were." I have been waiting for the opportunity to use this in conversation since I was sixteen

Giles being absolutely ready to fucking murder this guy for making sexual implications and sexist comments about Buffy

Is it wrong that I hope this guy one day gets eaten by one of the werewolves he hunts?

Oh poor Theresa... just another girl in the wrong place at the wrong time

Not Cordy and Willow bonding over how fucking annoying Xander is

I love this episode so much

2x16: "Bewitched, Bothered, Bewildered"

Fun fact: one of my university lecturers assigned us an article about the witches of Thessaly which was titled after this episode and we derailed the entire class by just talking about Buffy

Cordelia really needs some better friends

Willow being so excited about Oz being her boyfriend 🥺

I loved Amy at the start. Y'know, before the whole rat thing obviously

Giles: "Might I have a word?". Buffy: "Have a sentence, even." 😂

"Rupert" vs "Ms Calendar" - that return to formality is actually worse than anything else he could have said to her

The way Giles and Jenny are both so obviously very unhappy here but he refuses to do anything about it and she just gives up without a fight. Can I please make it through one fucking episode of this show without at least one female character reminding me of the chorus of History of Man??

I never noticed how sad Willow looks in the background of that scene as well

I fucking hate Angelus. Again, I'd sacrifice the possibility of Angel returning if it meant I could watch him die a horrible death

Out of curiosity, let's keep a running tally of how many of Angelus' victims are women. So far we're at 3 out of 4

The split second of terror that Angelus did something to Joyce

Xander's motivation here is so fucked up

Cordelia pulling the necklace out of her shirt 🥺

In what fucking universe is Diana a goddess of love?? Maybe that's why your spell went to shit!!

This is so uncomfortable

Oh Xander you're a fucking moron

Oz hitting Xander then helping him up, I love him

I like to imagine that Jenny's offscreen response to this whole situation is to give Xander lunchtime detention just typing the words "I WILL NOT BE AN IDIOT" like a thousand times and Willow keeps deleting them when he's not looking so he has to do it again

"Get out of my sight" thank fuck Giles is appropriately furious

I like that Buffy makes the explicit love spell = roofie comparison because that often gets brushed over in magic fiction

Oh Cordelia, that's my girl

[folklorebyswift]

behind the camera

fake dating & pr relationship with billie eilish

synopsis: Madison Cole is an aspiring actress with every advantage-wealth, connections, and a last name that opens doors in Hollywood. But privilege doesn't guarantee talent or fame, and Madison is eager to prove she's more than just a product of nepotism. When her powerful father orchestrates a PR relationship between her and global pop star Billie Eilish, Madison reluctantly agrees, knowing it could fast-track her rise.

What will spark when the cameras stop rolling?

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5

———————————————————————————

Chapter 6 — miss worldwide sensation

Madison's POV

I wake up in my own bed, wrapped in my blanket like a burrito, eyes crusty, hair a mess, mouth dry as hell.

But despite all that, I'm smiling.

Not a big, cheesy, rom-com smile. More like the soft kind. The quiet, what the hell is happening to me kind.

I blink up at the ceiling, going over every second of last night in my head. The Thai food. The way she teased me about Lucas. The way she said, "I get possessive" like she knew exactly what it would do to me. The fact that she didn't even pretend not to notice how nervous I was. She leaned into it—into me—like she wasn't afraid of anything.

We fake dated for exactly twelve hours before things started feeling... not so fake.

And now? I don't even know where that line is anymore.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand and tap into my favorite group chat.

a straight a bi and a gay

mads

i need to see you both today. like, today today. coffee? my house? please?

kenz :) okay but if this is about that girl rory i need more than coffee i need answers

brookey <3 and pastries. i'm bringing those. and judgment. what time?

mads now. like. NOW. come to mine. i'll explain everything.

Forty-five minutes later, my living room is a crime scene.

Empty coffee cups, croissant crumbs, Brooke's sunglasses on inside, Kennedy cross-legged on the floor like she's preparing to physically fight someone with logic and sarcasm. Grace is curled up next to her, quietly sipping her iced matcha like she knows a storm is coming.

And I'm pacing.

Like, full-on panic pacing.

"So," Kennedy says, "are you going to tell us what happened on your date with Party Girl or do I have to start guessing?"

I stop.

Deep breath.

Then: "Okay. So. You know how my dad is like, my dad?"

Brooke nods slowly. "Famous. Rich. Terrifying. Yeah."

"Well," I continue, "he set me up on a...thing. A publicity thing."

"What kind of publicity thing?" Grace asks gently.

I chew on my lip. "A fake dating thing."

Silence.

Like, real silence.

Brooke's sunglasses slide down her nose. Kennedy just blinks.

"With who?" Kennedy says, suspicious now. "Please don't say a washed-up CW actor."

I shake my head.

"Billie Eilish."

Brooke chokes on her coffee. Kennedy stands up. Grace's eyes widen like I just announced I got a job at NASA.

"I'm sorry," Brooke gasps. "Did you just casually drop Billie fucking Eilish into this conversation like she's not literally the most famous person under 30 on the planet?"

"Madison. Are you messing with us?" Kennedy demands.

"I swear I'm not." I hold up my phone, pulling up the text thread. "Look. We hung out last night. At her house."

"HER HOUSE?" Brooke screeches.

"She invited me. No publicist. No team. Just us. We watched movies and ate takeout and..." I trail off, realizing I'm smiling again. "She's actually... really normal. And funny. And kind of... ugh."

"You like her," Grace says simply.

I collapse onto the couch. "I don't know what I feel. It's supposed to be fake. But then she texted me after the meeting. And she told me I looked hot. And she wanted to hang out. And the way she looked at me..."

"Madison," Kennedy says, staring at me. "You've known her for, what, a day?"

"I know," I groan. "But something about her just..it clicks. I don't even know how to explain it."

Brooke crosses her arms. "So what now? How long do you have to do this fake dating thing?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I guess we start the fake part soon. Public outings, paparazzi stuff, that whole scene. But last night.. it didn't feel fake."

They're all staring at me now. Kennedy looks suspicious, Brooke looks fascinated, and Grace—Grace just looks like she's rooting for me quietly from the sidelines.

"You're in deep already," Kennedy says, pointing at me. "I know," I groan. "It's not like that. I swear."

Brooke narrows her eyes at me, leaning forward. "You swear it's not like that, but you're sitting there giggling like you just met your soulmate in a Trader Joe's aisle."

"It's not like that," I repeat, firmer this time. "She's just... flirty. That's her whole thing, right? Everyone says that. It's part of the brand."

Kennedy raises an eyebrow. "Sure. Just like you pacing like a divorced housewife five minutes ago is part of your brand."

I grab a throw pillow and smack it against my face. "God, you guys are the worst."

Grace leans in, setting her drink down with a gentle clink. "So, if it's not like that...why do you look like your brain short-circuits every time you say her name?"

"Because she makes me nervous," I admit, muffled by the pillow. "Like, in the best way. Like I can't tell if she's going to kiss me or roast me for how I pronounce 'pho.' It's like—she looks at me and I forget how to breathe, and then she makes fun of me for forgetting how to breathe."

They all go quiet.

Which is way worse than when they were yelling.

I peek over the pillow, cheeks burning. "But nothing real is going to come from this. It's business. Strategic visibility. Her team wants her to look like she's dating someone, and my dad thinks it'll give me credibility or relevance or whatever."

"And you're okay with that?" Brooke asks, her voice suddenly softer.

I shrug. "I wanted to get myself on the map. Without my dad. I know in a way I'm still using him... but It's temporary. It's a job."

Kennedy shoots me a skeptical look. "What about Rory? Lucas? Do they know yet?"

I groan again. "I don't know. It shouldn't matter right?" I stare at them. "It's fake with Billie. I actually like Rory. Lucas is a nonissue..." I trail off. "Look, I'm telling you this now because she's dragging me to the Barbie premiere with her and I didn't want you to see us on the red carpet and think I'd joined a cult or sold my soul or some shit."

Brooke's jaw drops. "Wait—the Barbie premiere? The one with the pink carpet and Margot Robbie's fine ass?"

"Yes."

Kennedy just stares at me. "You're going to walk a red carpet. With Billie. Fucking. Eilish."

"And pretend to be her girlfriend in front of every camera in the industry," I add flatly. "So. Yeah. Just wanted to give you all a heads up. In case you see photos and think I've lost my damn mind."

"Oh, we already think that," Brooke says, sipping her coffee like this is just another day. "But at least now we get to watch it unfold in high definition."

Kennedy nods slowly. "We'll be watching. Judging. Screaming." "So... when do we get to meet her?" Grace mumbles. Our eyes shoot over to her and we all just stare. "What?... She's fucking hot guys." Grace shrugs, taking a sip of whatever's left of her matcha. 

I laugh, "Eventually I guess, I have't really thought that far."

My phone buzzes. It's Rory.

"Is that the pop-star now?" Brooke asks.

"It's Rory. She said she had a great time the other night and wanted to know if I wanted to go keep her company while she runs some errands. Target being our first stop, apparently." I can't help but smile. The thought of seeing Rory again just makes me happy.

"Better enjoy that while you can." Grace mumbles, not breaking eye contact from whatever she's scrolling on, on her phone.

"What?" I shoot back.

"Think about it. You're about to go 'run errands', right? Like a normal ass bitch?" She finally looks up at me.

"Yeah... what's your point?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Is it not clocking to you that you won't be able to do that once you start this thing with Miss Worldwide Sensation? At least you won't be able to without a bunch of crazed fans stalking your every move."

Fuck. I hadn't even thought about that.

I try to brush it off, trying to act like that didn't bother me the way it did. 

"Oh, yeah, but whatever I'll think about that whenever I get there. But you fucks are gonna have to leave, I gotta get ready. I'm actually really excited to see her."

Brooke groans dramatically as she flops back into the couch cushions. "Ugh, fine, but if this ends up being a love triangle situation, I want to be the first to say 'I told you so.'"

Kennedy snorts. "You just want front-row seats when Billie and Rory inevitably cross paths and it turns into a hot lesbian reboot of Kill Bill."

I roll my eyes, dragging myself off the couch and toward the stairs. "You're both insane. It's not a triangle. It's not even a line. It's a dot. One singular dot. Me. Vibing. Alone. Occasionally fake-dating a global icon and occasionally real-dating a girl who wears cutoffs like it's her personality."

Grace leans over the arm of the couch. "And occasionally hooking up with your childhood best friend?"

I pause halfway up the stairs and glare. "I said that was a nonissue."

"You keep saying that," Kennedy calls after me, "but it sounds a lot like something an issue would say."

I flip them all off without turning around. "Out in ten. Don't touch the last danish. It's mine."

Brooke gasps like I've just accused her of murder. "You know I'm a croissant bitch or nothing, don't insult me."

"Love you!" I yell, shutting my bedroom door before they can start another round of interrogation.

I peel off my hoodie and catch my reflection in the mirror. My hair's a mess. I have a pimple forming on the side of my chin that I swear wasn't there yesterday. What am I 15 again? And underneath it all—under the smudged eyeliner and day-old mascara—I look...confused. Excited. Anxious. Tired. Hopeful.

I splash some water on my face and try to reset. Focus on Rory. Focus on now.

This morning, I woke up thinking about Billie.

Now, I'm pulling on jeans and fixing my face because Rory asked me to go to Target.

I'm choosing normal.

When I come back downstairs, the girls are all at the front door. Kennedy's trying to convince Grace to make a Wattpad fan fiction about me PR dating Billie Eilish. Brooke's already rattling off actors that should play them if it ever takes off and turns into a movie.

"I hate all of you," I mutter, grabbing my keys.

Brooke grins. "You love us."

"Call me when they inevitably meet and you end up spiraling," Kennedy snaps. "I'm prepared to invest hours into this chaos."

I shove them all out the door with a half-laugh, half-sigh. "Okay, seriously. Out. Let me go pretend I have my life together." After a few minutes, I head out, texting Rory back.

best head ever aka rory

mads

on my way :) need me to bring anything? besides my undying affection for target dollar section bins

best head ever aka rory

just your chaotic energy and your sexy self! see you soon babe, the doors unlocked.

I grin down at my screen, trying to ignore the twinge of guilt and confusion in my chest.

Today should be fun, right?

———————————————————————————

this book is a collab betweem me @/folklorebyswift and my bestie @/daddyb1ll1e on wattpad

new chapters are getting posted to wattpad before they get posted here! make sure to look it up there to read early :)

[starry-bite]

live episode reaction: "the brutal man" (cme 18x05)

spoilers below the cut!

going in feeling bananas because of the jemily clowning. so. we’re starting there.

silliest soundbite cuts in this previously on

“i’m f–” is my fave of course

oh my shayla

just realized no girlies in the network yet

yay! i love when they let her fight!

that's so wild i spoke her into being 

death wish jj let's go

“some people find it easier to be honest with a stranger than a friend. i think you're one of those people.” damn ochoa clocked her

“that's back-to-back-to-back trauma” - tagline for cm tbh

they're doing a much better job of making me appreciate and take a stake in ochoa than they ever did with voit. which makes sense, that job is easier with her. but still. 

“their lives are a game of how much they can do in as few moves as possible”

ooh! coffee cup transition slays

this is a really good jj episode she's killing it and i'm glad they're actually focusing on her! jj bottle(ish) episode! yes! correct story plotting! keeping it interesting in the style!

the playful ribbing on the plane feels SO classic crimi i love! family! silly!

“okay, make your case” my girls! 

oh no the themes of the case

the ring of keys is crazy (and a surprise tool that will help us later?)

OOF OOF OOF

oh this is really good

sweet ochoa

profilers and psychologists lol

“the behavioral analysis unit is the most emotionally constipated group of experts i've ever worked with” another key tagline!

“what's wrong with dave?” BABE DON'T YOU REMEMBER S16???

oh no they gave him google 

“sound familiar?” GET HER ASS OCHOA

head not in the game? babe you made a major break in the case

I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE THE FUCKING STICK FIGURES

thank you, ochoa

i'm paying attention i promise i just… emily in them WIDE leg pants 🥵

that better be emotional throwing up and not something else. i know it isn't, it's not supposed to be, i just. trust issues.

not a second to let up. to be human. that's a lot of pressure, babe.

“more than any person should”

“you get on your knees?” jj, the bitches are too horny you can't just SAY that

oh no seeing henry in ochoa

oh jj’s anger my beloved

“i get by with a little help from my friends” very sweet and VERY funny

GIRL HOW IS THIS THE TRANSITION

insane.

“andrew, if i wanted to disappoint two people at once, i would go to dinner with my parents.” yes this is hilarious but there is something underneath it about emily's sexual confidence from youth eroding away that breaks my heart. tell me s4 emily wouldn't have JUMPED on that.

“i didn’t have the real thing. i never have.” one thing we’re not gonna do is essentialize romantic love to the point all else is nought but having said that DO YOU EVER CRY FOR EMILY PRENTISS

time to get back to our jemily roots! (i.e. nothing happens and nothing will but emily looks at jj with unparalleled yearning. then remembers herself.)

“the feelings you're having right now, will is the one who would help you through them.” IM OUCH

WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE RING OF KEYS

reminds me of the garage door opener case from nashville in classic

“it sounds better in latin” “get off the cross, we need the wood” i love her!

WTF VOIT WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME??????

the face to face thing is so narrative convenience

THE HUG, JESUS

ooh another good cliff hanger!

overall: okay i get that lot of us access fandom through shipping (girl me too) but the shenanigans of this week have kept the sour taste of queerbaiting in my mouth, AND i take issue with the premise. i get that jemily gets a lot of attention, but sending up a jemily flare to incite viewership instead of letting the work speak for itself just. this episode was SO good. it was a beautiful jj episode that was structured well, centered effectively on character, and really carried us through this story-beat in a balanced, evocative way that evolution has struggled with on the whole. it’s just good work! and it kills me a little bit that the team feels the need to do a jemily tap dance to stir the fuckin pot instead of just saying, here’s an episode About your girl jj where aj cook is going to act her face off and letting it be! reducing this episode about grief and god and the search for meaning to the little moment of (barely!) jemily is just! disrespectful! to us and to the work! it disheartens me. anyway. this episode is really good in its own right, and yes, i enjoyed the jemily-ing personally, but paramount+ you CANNOT convince me you are ever going to do anything of consequence with them until they are actively tonguing each other down on live television. and if you do that, it must be the only content of the whole episode. i don’t make the rules.

[diamondzoey]

Raine: According to the footage here, you shook the vending machine and when the shake alarm went off, you punched the glass and broke it.

Keres: …I was hungry.

—————————————————————————-

Bloodmoon!Azren: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Bloodmoon!Jemma: I wrote you a poem.

Bloodmoon!Azren, already crying: You did?

—————————————————————————

Chester : *About to do something incredibly stupid*

Nash : I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

—————————————————————————

Sammy, trying their first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY!

Calamity, an avid coffee drinker, on their twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

—————————————————————————-

Malachi: :)

Vincent : >:(

Malachi: Turn that frown upside down!

Vincent : ):<

Malachi: Not sure what I was expecting...

—————————————————————————-

Lucy , bleeding out on the ground: Blood loss? No, I know exactly where it is.

—————————————————————————-

Nash : Hey, check out my Spongebob umbrella!

*Nash opens their umbrella while indoors*

Emerald : Nash , that’s bad luck…

Nash : Chill out, Emerald !

God!Chester, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?!

Nash and Emerald : *screams*

—————————————————————————-

Sorcerer: I give you a cursed amulet!

Vincent : Cool! It’ll make me look cute, and the shadow that follows me will make me more active, I’ll get out more!

—————————————————————————-

Emerald : Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.

—————————————————————————-

Vincent : I didn’t know that air fryers are a real thing. Used to think that they were made up by the internet as a funny joke and that their purpose was to “fry air”.

Sammy: WAIT, BUT IT FRIES THE AIR TO FRY THE FOOD??

Vincent : I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS A KITCHEN APPLIANCE, MY FIRST ASSUMPTION WAS SOMETHING AKIN TO AN AIR CONDITIONER!

Ulysses: IT’S NOT LIKE AN AIR CONDITIONER????

Amber: You guys clearly don’t own an air fryer.

—————————————————————————-

Vincent : I just drank a lego piece.

Victor: ...what the hell?! You melted plastic and drank the liquid?

Vincent : Yes.

Victor : Why did you even melt a lego in the first place?!

Vincent : Because it looked like chocolate! So I drank it! You know, like a chocolate shake?

—————————————————————————-

Amber: Guys… the principal just called—

Joan: It was Adriana !

Adriana : It was Azren!

Azren: It was Durate !

Durate : It was me!

—————————————————————————-

Marco : I have a bad feeling about this, guys.

Adriana : Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Calix: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?

Marco , being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

—————————————————————————-

Sammy: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell!

Calix: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Fucking say that next time!

—————————————————————————-

Lamia : When did you become a hero?

Calamity: Um… the moment I saved you from getting killed.

Lamia : You’re the last person on earth I wanted to rescue me.

Calamity: Well… sucks to be you, don’t it.

—————————————————————————-

Jemma: I love you.

Azren : I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that.

*Jemma and Azren kiss passionately*

Vincent , to Easton: You owe me 20 dollars.

—————————————————————————-

Duarte : Good news!

Calix: You found where I hid your phone?

Duarte : ...

Calix: You found your phone?

————————————————————-

Bugs in this

Raine- @willowve01

Keres- @gatorboys22

Azren/Calamity- @strayharmony943

Chester- @not-5-rats

Nash- @lightdragon789

Sammy- @ccstiles

Malachi- @stxph-artist

Vincent/Victor- @littlesiren79

Amber- @astralbulldragon13

Adriana- @idontevenknow7878

Joan- @rustycopper4use

Jemma/Lamia- @diamondzoey (me :3)

Calix- @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid

Emerald- @aspenm00n

Ulysses- @lunaritychuwolf

Lucy- @castbracelet240

Marco- @magebunkshelf

Durate- @puffin-smoke

[jambrainrot]

Prompt: Jam having an affair knowing they both have partners but are too in love to not give in. Secret meet ups and angst, with a hopeful ending

Pairing: Jacob/Sam

Tags: infidelity (with each other), secret hookups, angst, hopeful ending

Warnings: nsfw - descriptions of sex (slightly graphic)

Rating: M

Sam couldn’t stop watching Jacob’s hands. They were elegant things, such long fingers, currently wrapped around a paper coffee cup as they ran lines in his trailer. Every time those fingers twitched, Sam’s stomach did a funny little flip that had nothing to do with the four shots of espresso he’d downed since dawn.

”...and then Louis says—” Jacob paused, his British accent softening as he frowned at the script. “Mate, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

“Course I have,” Sam lied, his Australian drawl thicker with exhaustion. Three AM calls were a bitch, but vampire shows didn’t shoot themselves. “Something about Louis being a whiny git again?”

Jacob threw a wadded-up piece of paper at his head. “Piss off. Some of us take our eternal angst seriously.”

Sam caught the paper with ease – vampire reflexes coming in handy off-screen – and found himself grinning. These early morning sessions had become their thing. Just them, no PAs hovering, no directors barking orders. No girlfriend texting about dinner plans. No mentions of Jacob’s wife and kids back in London.

Just them.

“Your eternal angst is what pays the bills, darling.” The endearment slipped out before he could catch it. Sam watched Jacob’s face carefully, but his costar just smiled that devastating smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Christ, he was in trouble.

******

The jealousy hit hardest during press tours. Sam would watch Jacob charm interviewer after interviewer, all proper British manners and quick wit, while Sam sat beside him feeling like he was burning alive.

“And how’s the family?” some peppy person would inevitably ask.

“Lovely, absolutely lovely,” Jacob would beam, pulling out his phone to show off pictures of one of his daughter’s drawings. “My oldest is quite the artist.”

The interviewers would always coo and if they were British, mention how they knew his wife and loved her. Everyone fucking loved The Andersons. A big happy family.

Sam’s knuckles would go white on his armrest, that familiar acid churning in his gut. He’d paste on his media smile and think about his girlfriend, a sweet woman who deserved better than a partner who couldn’t stop falling for his bloody costar.

******

“What’s wrong with you?” Jacob’s voice cut through the stale hotel air later that night. After all the interviews were done, he sat in silence throughout their dinner.

“Nothing.” Sam’s shrug was automatic. The kind that fools exactly no one.

“Really?”

The word ‘no’ stuck in Sam’s throat. “Yes,” he lied, and hated himself for it.

“You went cold after all of our interviews.”

Sam wanted to scream. The pressure had been building all day, and now it burst. “Oh I don’t know. You couldn’t wait to bring them up and throw it in my face? I looked like a fool!”

Jacob’s face twisted, and for a moment—just a moment—Sam saw something there that scared him more than any mirror ever had. “That isn’t unhealthy thinking, Sam. Why would I mention my family to hurt you? The fact that it even hurts you is a problem. The fact that you pouted for hours over it is a problem.”

“Don’t do that,” Sam shook his head. “Don’t make me out to be a crazy person.” But crazy was what this felt like. His heart hammered. His skin crawled. The room felt too small.

“If the shoe fits—”

“If I’m crazy then so are you,” Sam said, and now the truth was coming out whether they wanted it or not. “We’re staying in a hotel room with one bed. You’re wearing my fucking shirt and you have the nerve to argue with me about this.” His hands were shaking. When had they started shaking?

Jacob went still. “Friends sleep in the same bed and share clothes all the time.”

The lie sat there between them. Sure, some friends earnestly do that and great for those people. But friends don’t tell intimacy coordinators to fuck off and shove their tongue down each other’s throats during rehearsals for “realism”.

The silence that followed was the worst kind. Sam could hear his own heartbeat, could hear the ancient air conditioner wheeze in the corner, could hear everything except the words they both needed to say.

The hotel room seemed smaller now. One bed. One fucking bed, with its cheap floral comforter and yellowing sheets. Sam wondered if madness was catching. The truth was there in the wrinkles of his shirt on Jacob’s back, in the way they’d been dancing around each other for months, in every casual touch that lingered too long. It was there in the single bed they’d both agreed to share without discussion, as if any other arrangement would have been unthinkable.

But neither of them was ready to say it out loud. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But they aren’t vampires, they don’t have forever.

“You know what?” Sam turned away, running both hands through his hair. His reflection caught his eye in the mirror above the dresser—pale face, dark circles under his eyes. He looked exactly as crazy as Jacob thought he was. “I need some air.”

“It’s midnight.” Jacob stepped forward. His bare feet made no sound on the thin carpet.

“I don’t care.”

“Sam—”

“Don’t.” Sam grabbed his jacket from the chair. His wallet was still in the pocket. Good. He could find another hotel. One with two beds, or better yet, just a room for himself where he didn’t have to think about Jacob sleeping three inches away. Even now when he wanted nothing more to get away from Jacob, he still wanted him close all the same.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Jacob’s voice had that edge to it now, the one that meant he was losing control of the situation. Good. Let him feel what it was like for once.

Sam’s hand closed around the doorknob. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one who can’t admit what’s really going on here.”

“And what exactly is that?”

Sam turned back. Jacob stood in the center of the room, wearing Sam’s faded grey t-shirt like it belonged to him. Like everything between them was normal. Like they weren’t both losing their minds in this too-small room with its too-small bed.

“You know what? Figure it out yourself.” Sam yanked the door open. “I’m done playing whatever game this is.”

“Sam, wait—” Jacob’s voice cracked. Actually cracked. In all the years they’d known each other, Sam had never heard that sound come out of Jacob’s mouth.

He hesitated in the doorway. The fluorescent lights in the hallway hummed, casting strange shadows. A couple argued in muffled voices three doors down.

“Just...” Jacob swallowed hard enough that Sam could hear it. “Just don’t go. Please.”

That ‘please’ hung in the air between them. Sam’s hand tightened on the doorknob until his knuckles went white. The smart thing would be to walk away. To end whatever this was before it destroyed them both.

But Sam had never been good at doing the smart thing. Not when it came to Jacob.

He closed the door.

Neither of them moved at first. The air conditioner clicked off, leaving them in sudden silence.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said finally. “About the interview. About this. About—” He gestured vaguely at the space between them.

“No, I’m sorry,” Jacob took a step forward. “You were right. I shouldn’t have brought them up. Not like that.”

Another step. They were close now, close enough that Sam could see the threads coming loose on the collar of his shirt—his shirt—where Jacob had been worrying at them all evening.

“I just—” Sam started, but he never finished. Jacob moved first, pulling him into a hug.

Sam’s arms went around Jacob’s back. He could feel Jacob’s heart hammering against his chest, or maybe that was his own. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the solid warmth of Jacob against him, the familiar smell of hotel shampoo in Jacob’s hair.

They stood like that for a long time. Too long for friends, probably. Sam’s throat felt tight. He should let go. He needed to let go.

He didn’t let go.

Neither did Jacob.

When they finally broke apart, neither of them quite met the other’s eyes. Jacob cleared his throat. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah.”

They went through their nighttime routine in silence. Sam brushed his teeth while Jacob changed. Jacob washed his face while Sam got into bed. The familiar dance of two people sharing a space, pretending everything was normal.

The mattress dipped as Jacob slid under the covers. For a moment they both lay there, careful not to touch.

Then Jacob shifted slightly, and his shoulder pressed against Sam’s. Neither of them moved away.

Sam stared up at the dark ceiling, listening to Jacob’s breathing even out. Sleep pulled at him, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. Every point of contact between them burned like a question mark.

Just before he drifted off, he felt Jacob’s hand brush against his. An accident, maybe. Probably.

But their fingers stayed touching until morning.

******

“You can’t look at me like that during scenes,” Jacob muttered one day between takes. They were filming a particularly intense confrontation between Lestat and Louis, all barely contained violence and centuries of want.

“Like what?” Sam whispered, aware of the crew bustling around them.

“Like you want to devour me,” Jacob’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. “People will notice.”

Sam stepped closer, close enough to catch the scent of Jacob’s lotin. “Maybe I do want to devour you.”

“Sam...” Warning and want tangled in those three letters.

“Tell me you don’t feel it too.” His hand found Jacob’s wrist, thumb pressing against his pulse point. Racing. Like his. “Tell me I’m imagining this.”

Jacob didn’t pull away. “You know I can’t.”

“Your wife called the set earlier,” Sam said, remembering.

“Don’t.”

“Can’t help it. Drives me mental, thinking about you going home to her.”

Jacob’s laugh was hollow. “And what about your girlfriend? Should we talk about how you spent all weekend playing house?”

“That’s different—”

“Is it?” Jacob finally jerked his hand away. “Because from where I’m standing, we’re both bastards who can’t have what we want.”

“What do you want, Jacob?” Sam was desperate. “Tell me what you want.”

Rolin called for places before Jacob could answer. But later, in the dark of Sam’s trailer, Jacob showed him exactly what he wanted. And if Sam held him a little too tight, marked him a little too high on his neck, well... possession was a vampire thing, wasn’t it?

They didn’t fuck that night. They sucked each other off like teenagers hiding from their parents, giggled afterwards and somehow that made it worse. If it was just sex then it would be different.

But this is more, much more.

*******

“You’re different with him,” his girlfriend said one night over dinner. She wasn’t accusing, just observing in that quiet way of hers.

“Who?”

“Jacob. You’re... intense. When he’s around, it’s like nothing else exists.”

Sam stabbed at his pasta. “He’s my costar. We have to have chemistry.”

“Is that all it is?”

The lie stuck in his throat. Because how could he explain that Jacob had somehow become as essential as breathing? That every scene together felt like flying and drowning at once? That he’d started measuring time in moments with Jacob and moments without?

“’Course that’s all it is,” he said instead, and pretended not to see the knowing look in her eyes.

******

“We can’t keep doing this,” Jacob would say, even as he pressed Sam against the wall of whatever hidden corner they’d found.

“We can’t stop either,” Sam would answer, and then there would be no more words, just desperate hands and stolen kisses and the weight of everything they couldn’t have.

But they did have this – secret moments carved out of impossible circumstances. Heated looks across crowded rooms. Inside jokes and private smiles and touches that lingered too long to be casual.

When they finally fucked, Sam’s cock shoved deep inside Jacob, they gasped — overwhelmed, but somehow still trying to get closer, breathes mingled together.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

********

The problem with playing vampires was that it bled into real life. Sam found himself watching Jacob with a predator’s eyes, tracking his movements across set, across rooms, across the whole bloody world. He memorized Jacob’s schedule like it was his own personal scripture – 5 AM makeup call, coffee (black, two sugars) at 5:30, phone call to the kids at their breakfast time in London.

“You’re doing it again,” Jacob said during their lunch break, not looking up from his script.

“Doing what?”

“That thing where you glare at anyone who comes within three feet of me.” Jacob’s lips twitched. “Poor Travis is convinced you actually hate him.”

Travis was their new PA, fresh-faced and eager, who looked at Jacob like he hung the moon. Sam’s jaw clenched.

“Travis needs to learn about professional boundaries.”

“Says the man who had his hand down my pants in my trailer yesterday?”

“That’s different,” Sam said, leaning closer. “You’re mine.”

The words hung between them, dangerous and true. Jacob’s eyes darkened, but before he could respond, his phone buzzed. His wife’s face lit up the screen.

Sam pushed away from the table, chair scraping against concrete. “Take it. Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Sam—”

But he was already walking away, hands shoved in his pockets, the taste of jealousy bitter on his tongue.

******

“Do you ever feel guilty?” Sam asked one night. They were tangled in his hotel room sheets, Jacob’s head on his chest, both pretending morning would never come.

“Every bloody second,” Jacob murmured against his skin. “But not enough to stop.”

Sam’s arms tightened around him. “Your daughters...”

“Don’t,” Jacob said sharply. “We agreed not to talk about them.”

“Or my girlfriend.”

“Or your girlfriend.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid. Finally, Jacob propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at Sam with those eyes that had haunted him since their first screen test.

“Do you know what scares me most?” Jacob traced Sam’s collarbone with one finger. “That I’m starting to forget why this is wrong. When I’m with you, everything else just... fades.”

Sam caught his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm. “Maybe that means something.”

“Maybe it means we’re selfish bastards who can’t keep it in our pants.”

“Maybe.” Sam rolled them over, pinning Jacob beneath him. They were both hard again, their bodies desperate to slide together like a missing puzzle piece. “Or maybe it means this is worth fighting for.”

Jacob’s laugh was soft and sad. “What exactly are we fighting for, Sam? The chance to destroy our families? Our careers?”

“Us,” Sam pressed their foreheads together. “Just us.”

*******

The cast party was a mistake. Sam knew it the moment he saw Jacob walk in with his wife on his arm, both of them picture-perfect. She was lovely, of course she was, all classic English beauty and genuine warmth. The kind of woman who made everyone feel at ease.

Sam hated her with such a passion that it scared him. He’s never loathed someone so much before and he has a lot of contenders of his all time hate list.

But shamelessly he wasn’t new to something like this. The past whispered rumors on set and online, the careful way certain crew members looked at them both. Jacob wasn’t his first.

The world was cruel to queer men—Sam had figured that out young, back when he was still doing theater in London. He had several affairs with men - most married, others just young and trying to figure themselves out like Sam was and some even asked for a more serious relationship. Which he always laughed off and left a trail of broken hearts (with women too) once he moved back to Australia permanently. No one was good enough for him in London. At least none he would ruin his career over. He’d watched talented actors fade into straight-passing roles, seen promising careers die after poorly-timed revelations. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t hide, wouldn’t live that way.

But here he was. Karma was waiting for him it seemed. To come out now would be a media circus. Two leads from the same show—the press would be rabid. Their faces splashed across every tabloid, their families hounded, their careers picked apart. And Jacob... Jacob had so much more to lose. A black queer man with a wife. Two kids who drew him pictures between takes. A career built on being loved.

Sam couldn’t ask him to give up everything. Couldn’t be the reason those kids had their world torn apart. Couldn’t handle being the villain in that story, the homewrecker, the scandal.

The thing was, Sam had never meant to fall for him. Jacob was supposed to be just another costar, just another straight actor he’d work with and forget. But then came the late-night rehearsals, the inside jokes, the way Jacob really saw him. Not as the token bisexual character he played, not as someone to be careful around, but just as Sam.

“You’re staring,” his girlfriend murmured, squeezing his arm.

“Just tired, love.” The endearment felt wrong on his tongue now. It belonged to someone else, whispered in dark rooms and heartfelt moments.

He watched Jacob navigate the room, playing the charming family man. Their eyes met across the crowd, and for a moment, the mask slipped. Raw need flashed across Jacob’s face before he looked away. Several minutes went by.

Sam’s phone buzzed.

Storage room. Five minutes

He shouldn’t go. They were both here with their partners. It was too risky.

He went anyway.

Jacob was on him the moment he closed the door, kissing him and stroking his cock through his jeans.

"Couldn't stand it," Jacob gasped between kisses. "Watching you with her. Wanting to touch you. Mark you."

Sam groaned, pushing Jacob against the shelves.

They both quickly started to unbuckle their own belts, shoving their pants down and Jacob turned around, his bare ass looking perfect.

“And what? You think it's easy for me, seeing you play happy family?”

"Nothing about this is easy," Jacob said, panting, as Sam lined up his cock to press inside him. "But I can't-I can't stop."

"Then we don't," Sam bit down on Jacob's neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "We don’t stop."

Jacob's reply was cut short when Sam pushed inside him, their moans muffling.

Later, they'd have to go back to the party. Back to their separate lives and separate beds. But for now, in this dusty storage room with cleaning supplies digging into their backs and the slapping of skin, they had this.

Tomorrow, he'd do the right thing. He'd pull away.

Keep things professional. Stop letting himself hope for something that could never happen. Pretend he's not in love.

But the great thing about tomorrow is that it always comes but never arrives.