#anyways at some point my friend pulled out strawberries and cream alcohol and was like guys lets drink‼‼

[lanshappycorner]

.

[siren-dragon]

After Eight -- The Cat Returns fanfic:

So... I had a Ghibli movie marathon recently and remembered my old childhood OTP of Haru and the Baron. Then I read a few fanfics by @catsafarithewriter and landed in another fandom abyss, lol. And that later spawned this au one-shot from a prompt I read. Anyway, this is my first time publishing anything for another fandom so hopefully it’s good. Enjoy! ^_^

AO3 story link

Human AU -- “I need to finish my term paper and you’re the only 24-hour internet cafe open. Help me.”

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The front door of their small flat closed with a soft click as Haru shrugged her backpack higher onto her shoulder and soon hurried down the corridor and out onto the streets with a determined step. To be fair, Hiromi and Tsuge did try their best to accommodate her as she stared helplessly at her computer screen within her bedroom while they giggled and chatted on the sofa. And though Haru managed to continue through her term paper despite the late hour; her concentration quickly began to wane while the tell-tale sounds of snogging managed to reach her ears despite the closed bedroom doors. So, she rather quickly decided to pack up her supplies and laptop, stuff them into her school bag, and exit the flat in an attempt to find somewhere quiet.

Of course, she didn’t really consider the fact that a) it was 10 in the evening on a Friday and b) she would need wifi if she were going to try and continue her paper.

“There has to be somewhere open…” she groaned, having passed another bar filled with her fellow college students enjoying the beginning of their weekend. “Why are there so many bars everywhere?!”

After traversing the streets for a good 20 minutes, all the while debating if she could chance stealing the wifi from a late-night McDonalds, the brunette soon found herself pausing to stare at the building her feet seemed to have led her to. It was a rather quaint building, reminiscent of European cafes with it’s white and green paint and black sunshade. Written beside the glass and wooden doors was a simple plaque with the words The Cat Bureau scrawled across in dark lettering. However, it was the petite sticker smacked boldly on the corner of one of the windows with a drawing of a cat on a laptop reading “free wifi” that nearly made Haru weep tears of joy.

“Oh, thank God; an internet café!” she beamed with delight before hurrying inside.

If she thought the outside was charming, the interior was spectacular. Alongside the windows were various tables with off-set white tablecloths and a small flower vase as a centerpiece, while opposite sat a wrap-around wooden bar complete with stools. The entire room was bathed in a warm, golden glow from the hanging antique light fixtures and Haru couldn’t help but be captured by the small café. “Wow, this place is beautiful…”

“You are too kind Miss,” an accented voice chimed, causing her to swivel to the source.

Standing behind the countertop was a man, perhaps a few years older than Haru herself, offering her a kind smile with a rag in hand. Though Haru was practically half-asleep due to exhaustion and the creeping energy withdrawals her last study-snack tried to prevent, even she couldn’t deny how attractive the man was. Slightly tousled tawny locks and vivid green eyes stared back at her with an intensity that caused her face to take a distinct pink tint. His attire was a bit formal, what with the crimson vest and collared shirt with a bowtie- though his black apron and rolled sleeves didn’t undercut the professional appearance.

“Erm, I’m sorry- were you closing soon? I can leave if you want. It’s just that I saw you had free wifi and I needed a space where I could finish my term paper…”

The man gave a gentle laugh, “no worries Miss, this is a 24-hour café; stay as long as you like. The Bureau doesn’t often receive customers on Friday evenings, what with many preferring venues that serve alcohol.”

Haru grinned, “you’re a life saver. And this place, I’ve never seen such an amazing café before.”

“Thank you, and please sit wherever you like. Make yourself at home. Is there anything you would perhaps like to order?”

Taking a spot at one of the tables near the window, Haru immediately glanced at the menu resting upon the table, looking over the pamphlet for something cheap that would keep her awake. She was rather impressed by the modest selection- ranging from teas and beverages to cakes, sandwiches, and even a few pastries. “I’ll just have a cup of the house blend tea, please.”

The man smiled, “as you wish.”

If the food wasn’t going to bring her back here, the charming waiter certainly was- though as quickly as the thought crossed her mind Haru prayed her internal feelings didn’t make themselves known with the reddening of her face.

Quickly pulling out her laptop and research materials, in an attempt to finish her work and not stare at the handsome waiter, Haru set to work on trying to finish her paper. The quiet atmosphere gave a rather calm and ideal setting, allowing the brunette student’s work to continue at a steady pace. On occasion Haru would steal a glance to the waiter as he set about making her order, humming a gentle tune under his breath before returning to her paper. It was only when the cup and teapot was set gently beside her did Haru startle from her concentration while another plate- this one bearing a slice of angel food cake with whip cream and strawberries found it’s place beside her tea cup.

“Oh! Um, but I didn’t order-“

“On the house,” the man smoothly replied. “Besides, nothing goes better with tea than some angel food cake.”

Haru giggled, saving her work before closing the laptop and setting it aside for the meanwhile. “Thank you very much.” Pour a dash of milk into the cup, she raised it for a tentative sip and blinked in surprise. “Woah, that’s got to be the best tea I’ve ever tasted.”

“You flatter me with your kind words, Miss.”

“Wait, did you make this from scratch?”

The waiter laughed, “indeed I did. That’s my own personal blend, though it tends to be a little different each time so I’m afraid I can’t guarantee the taste.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than the school’s local Starbucks.” Haru complimented, making the man grin. “Did you make the cake as well?”

“Unfortunately, no. While I am no stranger to the kitchen, that particular cake was made by our resident chef Muta. He has a penchant for sweets which has earned quite a following from the locals.”

“I don’t blame them, if the cakes are as good as the tea- I don’t think I’ll be able to go anywhere else.”

This time the man gave a teasing smirk, “and here I thought it was the free wifi drawing in customers.”

Haru laughed, “well, it certainly did help. I’d take a quiet café with wonderful tea over my small flat and a roommate making out with her boyfriend any day.”

“Well, that certainly would cause a bit of a distraction to a working student. If that’s the case, feel free to stay as long as you like Miss.”

“Haru,” she answered back. “My name, it’s Haru.”

He gave her a soft smile that made Haru’s stomach do nervous flips as bright green eyes met her own warm caramel irises. “Humbert von Gikkingen, at your service but please; call me Baron.”

Now it was Haru’s turn to give a small smirk. “So, Baron… this teapot looks like there is enough for another cup or two. Maybe, you would like to share it?”

This time it was Baron’s turn to flush the faintest pink before giving a rather delighted grin and retrieving another cup from behind the counter and taking the seat across from her. “I would be honored. After all, nothing makes a cup of tea better than sharing it with a rather fetching young woman.”

If Haru’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now- and judging from the slight mirth dancing in Baron’s eyes, the warmth of her face was easy to spot.

 =========================================================

“I didn’t even know we had a 24-hour internet café near the campus.” Hiromi commented in confusion, “must have been nice since you didn’t come back till after midnight.”

“Hey, I was giving you and Tsuge some space so I could work on my paper.”

Hiromi grinned, “uh huh, then why were you frantically typing this morning in an attempt to finish it? Maybe you got distracted on your little night excursion.”

“Yes, by tea and cake.” Haru answered dryly, trying to keep calm and prevent a tell-tale blush to creep up her face. “Trust me Hiromi, you’ll love the place.”

“Alright Haru, I- hey is this the place?”

The two girls stopped in front of the familiar white and green painted café, same black sunshade up though this time there were a few tables set up outside and a few more customers than the previous night. However, this time, a waitress with white-blonde hair and a pink ribbon around her neck was serving customers outside while inside a tall and thin black-haired man clad in the similar formal attire Baron wore yesterday tend to the waiting patrons. Yet she couldn’t hide the small frown at the lack of Baron’s presence, wondering if perhaps he only covered the evening shift.

It was then did she finally hear Hiromi’s laughter, when the chestnut-haired brunette pointed to a sign on the door. “Haru, you did read the sign before you went in this place last night, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

She merely silently pointed to the hours of operation, which clearly stated that the café was only open from 09:00 AM – 10:00 PM, with it opening later in the morning on Sundays. Haru felt her jaw drop slightly as her face turned cherry red while Hiromi merely laughed louder.

Of course, she did get a slight just desserts when the two friends were seated inside and Haru noticed Baron nearly fly out of the kitchen, hastily tying his black apron before catching her gaze. The black-haired waiter was whispering frantically to him while Baron looked to be offering some polite apology. Though when he caught Haru’s eye he couldn’t help the knowing smile on his face while Haru gave a rather sheepish look as he approached the table to take their order.

“Welcome back, Miss Haru. I hope your paper was a success.”

“Yeah, it really was…. Especially after the extra 2 ½ hours I worked on it last night.” She said with an embarrassed groan. “I am so sorry for butting into your café last night. If I knew you were closed I would have left and-“

“Think nothing of it, you needed somewhere to work and I was happy to help.” Baron replied with a kind, though slightly tired smile from the previous evenings unintentional long shift. “Perhaps… I could suggest another cup of our house blend in the name of bygones?”

Haru gave a shy smile, “yes please.”

“Make it two,” Hiromi added. “And whatever pastry you would recommend.”

“Certainly. I shall return momentarily, ladies.”

As Baron returned to the counter, Hiromi waited perhaps 2.1 seconds before whirling upon Haru with a large grin reminiscent of a satisfied shark. “Do you think he’ll write his number on the napkin for you to take home?”

While Haru didn’t make a point of causing scenes in public places, she couldn’t help flicking a sugar cubes at her friend’s laughing face. Though judging from the laughter dancing in Baron’s vibrant emerald eyes and the tint of pink dusting his cheeks, she wouldn’t be complaining if that was the case.

[shuatoyou]

the one next door

pairings: junhui x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol.

a/n: this one was unofficially requested by my fav person @shoshishua hua it is neighbour!junhui as i remember so this ones dedicated to u kristen!! love u lots i hope u like this i’m sorry for dragging it on a bit..

you and junhui both knew of each other somewhat.

you liked to throw parties, you hung out with a lot of people at school and you were quite outgoing, whereas he spent his time at home watching a new drama and usually spent his school days with his friend minghao plus some others.

his routine was the same until one day you ended up at his door knocking nervously.

jun opened the door shocked to see you but was quick to wipe any evidence of shock off his face.

“hi! i’m y/n i live next door”

“oh hi, i’m jun...” he greets back unsure of what else to say

“this might be a bit weird but i’m throwing a party tonight and i realised we’ve never spoken despite being neighbours for a while” you knew you were rambling now.

“so i was wondering if you wanted to come too? it starts at 6, you can invite a friend or two. i’m talking too much but if you want to come just come okay bye” you finish off and quickly turn away fast walking back to your own house. leaving junhui to process your quick distribution of words.

in all honesty you knew of junhui you knew he hung out with that cool artsy kid minghao who probably hated you because everytime you complimented his work during art lessons he would mumble a quiet thank you without looking your way. however, you had never found a chance to talk to jun like you wanted to so the party was a great excuse.

you made sure everything was in place for tonight, alcohol on the kitchen bar, you had moved every little decor into cupboards to prevent damage and once you fixed your outfit the first round of the doorbell rang.

the party was crowded within the first hour and you took the courtesy to greet as many guests as you could despite not knowing many of them. it would be a lie to say that wasn’t just an excuse to find the one person who was yet to arrive.

you scanned the crowd to notice minghao was at the party which caused you to raise an eyebrow at the sight of him enjoying himself with others except jun wasn’t there with him. approaching minghao and his friends directed their attention to you instantly.

“hey minghao” you begin to yell over the music. “do you know if jun is coming tonight?” you tip toe to be able to speak directly into his ear. 

“why are you asking me if he’s right there.” minghao signalled for you to turn around and you did so immediately meeting juns gaze.

“oh you’re here” you smile walking closer to him now.

“well i was invited so it would be rude not to come right?” he smiled back accepting the drink from his friends who you forgot were still there and watching your every move.

“well. enjoy your night.” you say walking away smiling into your drink with flushed cheeks before downing the entire drink and throwing the plastic cup somewhere onto the floors you would have to clean later.

“since when were you and y/n close?” juns friend seungcheol questioned.

jun shrugged his shoulders and turned back into the crowd spotting you dancing and it didn’t take long for you to meet his eyes in which you bring your drink up and he does likewise. “cheers” you both mouth to each other from across the room.

the next day was rough, you woke up on the couch all alone unsure when the party had ended. you groan at the mess that was left for you to clean all by yourself.

it was the same every week and at this point you were questioning your entire existence and why you threw these parties but a ring of your doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts.

lazily dragging yourself to the door you open it only to be met with jun making you widen your eyes and fix your stance.

“hi” jun speaks out.

“hi to you too”

“do you need any help with cleaning up?” jun asks fiddling with his jacket pockets.

“you don’t have to it’s okay” looking back at the messy sight you sigh before continuing. “i do this every weekend anyways.”

“i don’t mind helping really.”

a thankful look spreads out onto your face as you look up and nod at the taller boy.

“okay sure you would be a great help anyways.” you open the door wider to let him in.

“wow everyone sure partied hard” jun exclaims and you sigh with a laugh.

“you should’ve seen the party i had last month there was a whole in the wall right there.” jun looks at the wall you pointed at before laughing at your defeated expression.

it takes you guys a long 2 hours to clean up everything and throw all the cups and empty bottles away and soon enough you both collapse with jun on the couch and you on the fluffy rug placed on the floor.

“i am never throwing another party again” you groan tiredly.

“i have a feeling i will see you again next week for another one”

“is that a way of you saying you will start coming to my parties?” you prop yourself up leaning towards the single person couch.

jun hums in response and after that it’s silent.

“wanna go get some ice cream? it’s my treat for you helping me with cleaning.” you get up and dust off the clothes you had on.

“i have no other plans so yes.” jun gets up with you.

“okay but i’m going to need a few mins to change.” you laugh signalling at your atrocious fashion sense consisting of a loose t-shirt with leggings.

“is half an hour enough your majesty?” jun jokes with a bow.

“more than enough even. you can wait down here i promise i won’t be long.” you laugh and run up to your room.

you nervously pick out an outfit, you didn’t need to put that much effort in right it was just friendly ice cream? 

this self conflict continued on until you finally managed to throw yourself out of your bedroom to go back to jun who was now casually seated on the couch scrolling through this phone so you sneak up on him with the intentions of scaring him.

“boo!” you yell into his ears causing jun to jump and hold onto his phone in fear.

“are you trying to kill me oh my god y/n” he yells at you while you attempt to catch your breath out of laughter

“shut up lets go i want my ice cream now and you owe me two extra scoops.”

the walk to the ice cream place was filled with talks about school and the events that went down at the party. you don’t fail to mention you thinking he wouldn’t be there.

“well i couldn’t let you down when you came all the way to my door to ask me right?” he smirked and you slowly felt your cheeks betray you by changing into a crimson colour.

you nudge him as you both approach the ice cream parlour and find a table. you both sit down for a moment before you got up to order.

“strawberry please” 

“i didnt even ask you yet?” you question the boy now looking up to you.

“go on i want my four scoops of strawberry ice cream” 

“ugh strawberry... at least you didn’t say mint chocolate i guess” you sigh in defeat rolling your eyes kiddingly causing jun to laugh which you heard as you walked away.

needless to say you enjoyed juns company and he enjoyed yours.

the both of you spent your time at the parlour slowly consuming your preferred flavours and you found you had much in common and not failing to take a mental note that jun was really good at playing the piano so he promised he would play for you one day making you beam at his words implying you guys would be meeting more often.

[drakewalkerfantasy]

Flames of yesterday: Epilogue

Summary: 5 years ago they made a mistake. They were two broken men drinking away their love life issues, and one girl trying to help a friend. What the night leaves them with are two broken hearts and one nearly broken friendship. 5 years later, two are still broken and another one fixed. But what happens when they all meet again? Will it open old wounds and bring all the their insecurities rushing back?  Or will it mend the two hearts still looking for warmth, unable to find it after their parting?

Words: 4180

Authors notes: A crossover of Open Heart and The Elementalists, a collaboration series by @drakewalkerfantasy and @fluffy-marshmallow-heart

Thank you everyone who was with us from the beginning of this journey till the end or who joined later. I hope you enjoyed this series. 

Ethan x OH MC (Diana)

Beckett x TE MC (Oriana)

**Warnings: fluff, a lot of fluff, love and friendship**

NEW YEAR’S EVE

“Beck come on, they’re going to be here any second!” Oriana called up the stairs of their house. “Isabella is already asleep!”

A couple minutes later Beckett padded down the staircase and glared at his wife. “If you keep shouting like that, she’ll wake up! I just wanted to make sure she’s okay in her crib. She just started sleeping in it, after all.”

“I know, and that’s very sweet.” Oriana kissed him gently. “But I’m serious, you need to start opening the wine bottles and help me with the rest of the food.”

“You made enough food for an army. Why did you make so much?”

Oriana sighed. “Because I don’t know what Ethan likes! And you know I love to cook. You’ve never complained about the amount of food I’ve made before. In fact…there’s been several times that was an advantage for you…” She trailed off, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “You remember that chocolate fountain, right? With the strawberries and whipped cream?”

Beckett started blushing furiously. “That…of course, I remember that.” He slipped his hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Don’t tell me you got all that again tonight, because I will lock that front door and we’ll spend the whole night…taste testing…”

“Mmmm I love when you get kinky.” Oriana replied, causing Beckett to chuckle. “Will you blindfold me again too?”

At that exact moment, their doorbell rang.

“Shit.” Beckett cursed, looking down at the giant bulge in his pants. “Why do you always do this to me.” He mumbled, trying to adjust himself to hide how turned on he got in a matter of seconds.

Oriana just shrugged. “You just make it so easy.”

She walked over to the door, opening it wide with a grin. “Hey guys! Come in! Let me get your coats!”

Diana and Ethan stepped into the entryway, removing their jackets and handing them over. After hanging them up in the coat closet, Oriana led them to the kitchen, where Beckett was hiding behind the island.

“Beckett.” Ethan acknowledged, reaching out his hand and shaking Beckett’s. “Always nice to see you. And Oriana, you look lovely as always.”

“Aw, thank you. It’s good to see you too. I made a ton of food, I hope you’re hungry.”

“Always.” Diana grinned. “Thanks for having us. Where’s little Isa?”

“Bed.” Beckett piped in. “Want some wine? We just have to keep the volume down.”

“I’ll take some.” Ethan told him.

“Do you have any sparking grape juice?” Diana asked hopefully.

Oriana smirked. “We do.”

Beckett looked at her, confused. “You know you’re not pregnant anymore, Ori, you can drink wine.”

“Force of habit. And I already bought it, so might as well drink up!” She replied cheerfully, handing Beckett the bottle. “Besides, don’t want any alcohol getting in my breast milk.”

He opened it and poured two flutes full, then turned back to Ethan. “What kind of wine do you like? We have reds, whites, sweet, dry, sparkling…”

“A Riesling would be excellent.”

Nodding, Beckett opened a bottle of chilled Riesling and poured himself and Ethan flutes. The four friends raised their glasses.

“To new friends.” Ethan smiled at Beckett and Oriana.

“To new love.” Beckett grinned proudly at his best friend, so happy she finally found what he had. He was thrilled for her.

“To family.” Diana added.

“And to embracing the future…whatever that may bring.” Oriana finished. The four of them clinked their glasses together and took sips of their drinks. Beckett then pulled out two casseroles from the bottom oven and 3 dips from the top oven, while Oriana pulled out bags of chips, veggies, paper plates, napkins, and silverware.

Ethan’s eyes widened. “That’s…a lot of food. You made all this yourself? We could have brought something, I’m sure you’re swamped with taking care of your little girl.”

“No, no, I love cooking. Besides, Beckett is always eager to spend time with Isa.” Oriana grinned. “I gotta tell you though…we’re both pretty tired and I’m sure she’ll wake up at some point considering she’s only a month old.”

It had been two months since the conference; two months since Ethan and Diana admitted their feelings for each other, and they had been inseparable ever since. They both signed a release at the hospital, much to Harper Emery’s disdain. It did not go entirely smoothly, especially with what happened to Declan Nash. However, Ethan had been right about one thing. They were getting the funding regardless of what happened. One condition was that Declan was never in the hospital when Ethan or Diana was, which was so often he would barely show his face. They’ve been in and out of legal to make sure the deal went off without a hitch.

Oriana’s labor had been a difficult one, and it broke everyone’s heart that she was in labor for two days before being rushed for cesarean, as the fetus’s blood pressure dropped significantly, but finally she gave birth to a healthy little baby girl that they named Isabella, and Isa as a nickname. They had all grown extremely close, and surprisingly Beckett and Ethan ended up becoming good friends in no time at all. Since Beckett and Diana were still interns, their experience was limited, especially in natal care. Despite Beckett having performed a cesarean on Dolores, he was not doing well emotionally with this at all. This was his wife, his world, this was extremely personal, just like Dolores had been to Ethan. So, Ethan was really there for Beckett when Oriana was having such a difficult time. Since she had to be put under anesthesia, he wasn’t even allowed in the room and he was wreck. Diana was unfortunately in the middle of a shift, and technically so was Ethan, but since he had a lot more pull, he was able to be there for them, and Diana appreciated it more than she could ever say. She and Ethan were practically inseparable outside of working hours, but in the hospital they kept their interactions brief and professional as to not make things awkward for the rest of the staff and interns. They would only bend that rule in Ethan’s office, with the door closed and locked, but even then they had to be quick so no one noticed they were gone.

Now, on New Year’s Eve, the four friends had decided to ring in the new year together. It was important for them all to be together that night and start off as good friends when the new year began. Everyone had readily agreed to the plan as Beckett and Oriana were often busy and exhausted taking care of a newborn, so they were not as sociable as they used to be. Although Diana and Ethan were both involved with making sure the new little family was taken care of, they did not want to overstay their welcome and make Oriana and Beckett feel like they have to entertain them instead of bonding together as a family.

“So.” Beckett cleared his throat, taking his wife’s hand. “There is something Oriana and I would like to ask you two, and perhaps we should have asked sooner but…”

Diana waved him off. “I’m sure whatever it is didn’t have to be decided right away.”

Beckett blushed a bit as Oriana squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. “Ori and I…we’ve talked a lot about this, and we were hoping…well, we’re asking…the two of you will consider being Isabella’s godparents.”

Diana’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes filled with delight, while Ethan stood stunned. “A-Are you sure? We haven’t known each other too long and…I’d be honored of course, but I don’t want you to feel like just because you want Diana to be godmother that I have to be godfather. We’re not even married.”

“But you’ll propose at some point.” Oriana said confidently, causing Diana to smother a laugh. “Besides, even if you don’t get married, I’m sure you’ll stay together anyway.”

Beckett looked directly at Ethan. “As I said, we considered this very carefully and the truth is…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “You were there for me when I was losing my mind with worry. Not just anyone would do that. You’re…a really good man, Ethan Ramsey. And I agree with Oriana that you and Diana have an extraordinarily strong bond, and we’re not worried about your relationship.”

Diana sniffled, several tears escaping her eyes before she stepped forward and yanked Beckett into a giant hug. “Thank you.” She whispered, before turning back to Ethan. “Well? It’s up to you, but I believe they’re waiting for an answer.”

After a moment of hesitation, Ethan smiled widely. “Of course, I accept.”

Diana squealed in happiness as she kissed Ethan. After sharing a small nod, the two of them faced Beckett and Oriana again. “Actually…there’s something we want to tell you.” Diana said before sharing a joyful glance with Ethan, his fingers interlacing through hers’s, giving them a light squeeze of encouragement. “We are pregnant,” she rattled off, feeling how her heart skipped a beat when a silence hung in the air.

She could see how Beckett’s brows furrowed in confusion, trying to process news they just shared, looking between Diana and Ethan. They both could see how the realization settled at him, and his eyes widened, a happy grin spreading across his face. But before he could say or do anything, they heard the deafening cry of joy breaking the silence. Everyone’s eyes moved to Oriana, who was clapping her hands together excitedly.

“I knew it!!!” Oriana shrieked. “That’s the real reason I bought the sparkling grape juice! I’ve had my suspicions, and then you saying you wanted to drink that confirmed it for me. Oh my god, you guys!!! I’m so happy for you!!” She lunged forward, wrapping both Diana and Ethan in a hug.

“What? How did you know?” Diana asked in surprise, with both Ethan and Beckett furrowing their eyebrows in confusion.

“Okay, well first off, I just went through it, so I know a lot about it. Second, every time I’ve talked to you, you just seem completely exhausted. And last month when I brewed coffee, you wrinkled your nose and dashed off. You love coffee, and you definitely love the smell of coffee, so that was a huge sign.”

“Hmm, I guess…” Diana started before Oriana interrupted.

“And last, your boobs are already bigger.”

Diana’s eyes widened as Ethan started coughing.

“Ori!!” Beckett’s face was bright red. “What…how…do you stare at her breasts or something? How would you know that?”

“We went shopping together last week. Course, I was already suspicious, but when she tried on that form-fitting red dress, I was like ‘wow! Look out!’”

“Oh my god, that’s so embarrassing.” Diana muttered, her face turning the same shade as Beckett’s.

“No way, I’m sure Ethan is enjoying them.” Oriana teased.

“Oh my god! Ori stop!” Beckett exclaimed, the red on his cheeks spreading over his whole face, ears, and neck.

Oriana shrugged innocently. “Just sayin. You still enjoy mine plenty.”

Beckett’s mouth fell open as he turned away quickly. “I’m getting another drink.”

“I’ll join you.” Ethan said immediately, the two men walking away as fast as they could, neither one saying a word until they reached the kitchen.

“Welcome to married life.” Beckett mumbled as he poured new drinks.

Ethan chuckled under his breath. “Good to know.”

Beckett’s gray eyes met Ethan’s blue ones. “I’m pretty sure I know you well enough that I don’t have to ask this, but as Di’s best friend I’m going to. You didn’t get the ring just because she’s pregnant, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Ethan replied, not missing a beat. “I want to marry her. Actually, the day when she told me the news, I was taking her to her favorite spot to propose.”

“Why didn’t you?” Beckett asked, trying to figure out what possibly could change his mind.

“I wanted, but Oriana went into labor, and it didn’t felt right. We all were worried for her and the baby. And you needed us,” Ethan replied.

“Wait.... do you want to tell me that she is pregnant for at least two months, and you both didn’t tell us? She was the first one with whom we shared our news,” Beckett said, feeling a little bit upset that they didn’t share the news earlier, but no less happy for his friends.

“She wanted to tell you as soon as she shared the news with me, but not when Oriana was in the hospital, and then when Isa was born, we wanted for you to celebrate the life you created, not us,” Ethan replied, patting Beckett on the shoulder.

“Thank you,” Beckett appreciatively smiled at Ethan before looking towards the girls. “But still, you didn’t answer why didn’t you propose later? You had at least a month to do that.”

“Honestly?” Ethan asked, watching Beckett nod. “I started to question if she wouldn’t think I propose just because of the baby. And this is why a week ago I turned to you. I love Diana,” Ethan replied.

“I know. If I would doubt it, I wouldn’t help you,” Beckett noted. “So? Are you proposing tonight? Everything is ready if you are.”

“Yes, I’m. And--- thank you,” Ethan smiled, his hand wrapping around the small diamond ring inside his pocket. “I hope Oriana will not kill you when she finds out you knew for a week?”

“She will be too happy for both of you, that I hope she will not pay attention to this little detail,” Beckett laughed.

Meantimes, Oriana turned back to face Diana, with a huge grin on her face.

“So--- How Ethan took the news? Don’t worry if he freaked out when I announced mine to Beckett, he didn’t let me do anything. If it would be up to him, I probably would lay home flat all these 8 months since we find out I’m pregnant. Thanks to you never happened,” Oriana laughed, grabbing Diana’s hands in her’s excitedly.

“Actually, he didn’t freak out. He was shocked of course, but happy,” Diana said, smiling to her friend throwing a happy glance at the man she loved more than anything, who was leaning on the counter while talking with her best friend. The warmth spread in her chest while she started to fill in Oriana in how Ethan took the news.

It was a little bit more than 5 weeks since the conference, and today was their first day off together since they went back to work. During this time, they became extremely close to each other, physically and emotionally. And their love grew only stronger. Using an opportunity, Ethan asked Diana out to the place he knew is important to her. To the place where she shared the most important part of herself with him and told him everything that she and Beckett told months earlier to Oriana.

Diana felt nervous twirling in front of the mirror in her new yellow dress, anxiously checking the content of her bag for the hundredth time.

Ethan should be here soon. Thought she, after a moment hearing a soft knock at the door. Her face brightened, and she quickly ran to the door. Her eyes lightened up instantly, meeting Ethan’s, and their lips met as soon as he crossed the threshold, picking her up and twirling.

“Mmmmmm,” he breathed into the kiss, softly pecking her on the lips before placing her back to the ground. “I missed you,” he murmured against her lips before letting her go. Taking her coat from the railing, he helped her to put it on, linking their hands together.

After a while, they went into the park, heading to Diana’s favorite place, the place that brought both happy and sad memories. But today, Ethan was determined to change that, bringing more happy memories to this place. Oblivious, that Diana was full of determination to do the same. Entering the park, they headed to the wooden bridge over the river.

Ethan’s hand placed on the small of her back, when they both leaned on the railing, watching at the river flowing in front of them before turning to face each other.

“I want to...,” both started in unison, joining their hands.

“You first,” Ethan told her, bringing her hand to his lips, and placing a gentle kiss to the top of it.

“Okay,” Diana said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a second before opening them again. “I... I’m pregnant,” she whispered, so quietly that he practically didn’t understand what she said, feeling her hand him two objects from her purse.

He looked at two things he was now holding in his hands, and his eyes widened when he looked back at Diana, his mouth fell open.

“When? How? I thought you are...,” Ethan started to speak, his heart thundering while the news slowly sank in and a feeling of warmth spread in his chest.

“I... I totally understand if you are not ready. We never discussed it after all. We even not been together for so long, so I totally understand, if you don't want to...,” she started to babble before he stopped her abruptly, by crushing his mouth on hers pouring in this kiss all the feelings, he had for the woman in his arms, leaving her breathless.

“Don’t think even for a second, that I will back out. Never. Actually, I wanted to...,” Ethan started to speak when Diana’s phone rang, and she apologetically took it out, seeing Beckett’s number on display.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” she said, kissing Ethan gently on the lips.

“Hey, how are...,” Diana started to speak, smiling until her smile faltered, and she furrowed her brows. “Wait... Beckett, calm down... Ori is in a hospital? Yes, I’ll get her stuff. Will be in an hour,” she said before ending the call.

By the time Diana stopped speaking, Oriana’s eyes filled with tears, and she rushed to hug Diana, wrapping her hands tightly around her pregnant friend.

“I’m so so so happy for you and Ethan,” she babbled, both girls sniffled together, attracting attention from men who were still standing in the kitchen area. Both instantly made their way back to the couch.

Beckett hugged his wife, kissing her forehead and watching how Ethan gently wrapped his arms around Diana, their eyes full of love. The same love he felt every day for his wife, the same he has seen reflected in her. And he was more than happy for Diana to finally get her happy ending.

They sat together celebrating the upcoming New Year, laughing quietly and sharing stories making both men blush from time to time. After some time, they heard a quiet cry coming from upstairs, and both young parents bolted up to their little princess. Muttering apologies on their way before disappearing, leaving Ethan and Diana alone.

“Want to come outside for a moment?” Ethan whispered to Diana before helping her to stand up, both leaving the house quietly.

His hands wrapped around her waist from behind, and he nuzzled her neck, breathing a crisp winter’s air together. They felt how the snow started to fall from the sky, the snowflakes fluttering around them, and they stood still enjoying the quietness of the night. After some time of silence, Ethan finally started to speak, turning Diana to face him. He cradled her face in his arms, gazing deep into her eyes, hoping that his and Beckett's plan, will work. He lowered his face, and his lips were just a whisper away, brushing Diana’s every time he spoke.

“Di, when I first met you, I never thought that it will lead us to where we are. That I will find in you everything I ever looked for. The day we met, I felt miserable, and I didn’t look for love. I looked for my pain to be taken away, but instead, I found more than I expected with you. I didn’t know that at this time, and it took me more than five years to figure this out. The time we woke up together for the first time, I knew we were meant to be. And that I’m not going to let you go. Not this time, not ever,” Ethan whispered, kissing Diana gently, her eyes becoming bigger with every word he spoke. Ethan’s eyes flickered to the tree in front of them, counting second for what to come. His heart pounding in his chest.

It was almost midnight, when Oriana and Beckett came back downstairs, Isabella babbling on his hands wrapped in multiple layers of blankets. The proud parents lovingly looking at their little girl, their hearts swelled with overwhelming love. Together they went to the window, watching at the snow slowly falling to the ground, noticing their friends standing outside.

“What are they doing? It’s probably cold, I’ll go call them in,” Oriana said, heading toward the door before Beckett quickly caught her hand.

“Give them some privacy,” he murmured, pulling her toward his chest, one arm wrapped around her, and with another holding their daughter.

Her eyes widened when she looked out the window once again. Gasping when she saw what happened next, looking at the tree lights sparkling to life. “Is he proposing?” she asked, her eyes meeting Beckett's.

“Yes, he does,” Beckett confirmed, kissing the top of Oriana’s head.

“Wait, did you know?” she asked, her eyes widened.

“Who do you think rigged the lights the right way?” Beckett smirked before quickly adding. “But only for a week! And I didn’t want to keep a secret, but...”

“Oh my God, this is why you were so literally obsessed with lighting that tree after Christmas?” Oriana squealed with delight, looking outside.

After Ethan spoke the last words, he gently turned Diana around to face the tree at exactly the same moment when it lit up, mentally thanking Beckett for what he has done. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth, her eyes welled up with tears, and she turned to face Ethan.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her heart thundering, and she looked at Ethan standing on one knee, holding out a beautiful sparkling diamond ring from the white gold.

“Diana, will you marry me?” he asked, holding his breath. Watching how she frantically nodded her head, not able to say the words at first.

“Yes, yes...,” she finally breathed out. “Thousand times, yes,” she laughed, happy tears glistening in her eyes, while he slid the ring on her finger, kissed her hand, and stand next to her.

“I think this is our turn to go and join them,” Oriana chimed, lashing toward the door before Beckett could catch her.

“Coat,” he screamed after her, rolling his eyes with a smile, looking at his overly excited wife, taking her coat from the hanger, and handing it to her before she could leave the house. He clutched Isabella tighter to himself and wrapped his coat around both of them, protecting her from the crisp air.

In a moment, they joined their friends. Beckett shook Ethan’s hand, before crushing Diana in a tight but careful hug. Meantime, Oriana gave Ethan a warm embrace before rushing to Diana, pulling her in a bear hug.

“It’s almost a New Year,” Oriana squealed. “And we need to celebrate, I...” she started before Beckett interrupted her.

“Ori, do you really thought I didn't think about this and didn't prepare a bottle of the most expensive champagne to celebrate my friends’ engagement?”

“Beckett,” Oriana said, clearing her throat to cover the laugh that was bubbling from her. “Don’t you forgot that one of your friends, your best friend cannot drink as... she is pregnant?”

“Sh...,” Beckett mumbled, feeling how his cheeks flushed, stopping halfway when his eyes land on the fast asleep baby in his arms. “If someone would share with me her suspicions, we would have something alcohol free, and now we don’t. Sorry, Di.” Beckett said, smiling at her apologetically.

“What would have you done without me? Lucky for you, I have another bottle of sparkling grape juice, and we have a few minutes left, so I can get it before bells will ring and firework will go off,” Oriana said, running back in their kitchen.

“Beck, shouldn't we probably go inside so fireworks wouldn’t wake up Isa,” Diana asked worriedly, looking at the little girl in Beckett’s arms.

“You will be surprised when you will find out under which level of noise babies can sleep,” Beckett chuckled, looking at his wife, who finally emerged from their house with the bottle of juice just in time to join them.

The bells first rang as the first burst of fireworks lit up the night sky. The snow was still falling all around them as they raised their glasses for everything good to come in New Year; for their friendship, love, and families. Four hearts that finally found love.

Tags: @annekebbphotography @gardeningourmet @zigortega4life@eileendannie @alesana45 @thequeenofcronuts@friedherringclodthing @mfackenthal @coffeebeandragon@drakewalker04

@feartheendlesssummer @elainew13 @the-soot-sprite@brightpinkpeppercorn @paisleylovergirl @dottie-minerva-mikas@emichelle @symonde @kendrasgue​ @pbmychoices​ @flyawaybooks​

@elles-choices​ @lilyofchoices​ @boneandfur​ @walkerismychoice​ @hopelessromantic1352​ @confessionsofabrokegirl​ @msjpuddleduck​ @desiree-0816​ @lapisreviewsstuff​ @sonsie0613​ @universallypizzataco​ @perriewinklenerdie​ @cordoniasmost​

[hwangdol]

h.mh: i’m (not) fine.

part of the We Can’t Be Friends Series

pairing: college!hwang minhyun x fem!reader

note: see, i’m not dead! school has just been a bitch and i haven’t really had any motivation to write but! i finally got hit by lightning and i saw the holy god hwang minhyun. anyways i’m making this into a little series for minhyun because i feel like the story i want is the best express this way. i’m a heavy curser so this also contains a shit ton of curse words. and since this is set as a college!au, there’s gonna be some more mature themes compared to my other fics and the format is a little different.   

read the preview to get a little insight (don’t necessarily need to but it would be recommended)!!!

“i’m fine,” you stressed. 

your phone was pressed to your check with your shoulder as you placed some of the carrots you selected into a plastic bag, throwing it into your shopping cart once you finished. 

“i’m not sure i believe that,” your long-time bestfriend, kim jaehwan, said from the other side. 

you rolled your eyes at his comment. it’s been about two months since minhyun’s sudden break-up and you were doing just fine. well, at least that’s what you told everyone. 

switching the phone to the other ear, you lazily pushed the shopping cart forwards. it was currently two in the morning and here you were, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts on a friday night, grocery shopping. 

“you’ve barely been out since the two of you broke up!” jaehwan pointed out. 

“i’m grocery shopping right now!” you argued back, turning your cart down the juices and drink aisle. jaehwan had a habit of stealing your precious ice yea. “i’m buying vegetables and all of that adult shit.” 

“dude, we both know that you’re only grocery shopping because your mom has been nagging you for weeks and you need to have physical proof that you’re a fully-functioning adult, which i might have to add, you’re not.” 

“shut up,” you muttered, eyes scanning for your favorite drink. “whose fault is it that i have completely bare cabinets and fridge? you practically inhale all of my food.” 

“it’s payment for keeping your depressing ass company when i can do better things with my time.” 

“excuse you, i am not depressing, i’m merely sweating from my eyes every night,” you replied back. picking up a pack of your sweetened ice tea, you placed it into the shopping cart. “did you want anything? might as well buy your fat ass something while i’m here.” 

“booze.” was jaehwan’s replied. “get the good shit, not the one that tastes like donkey piss.” 

“fine, you fucking alcoholic,” you sighed. sadly the alcohol aisle was in another area despite it also being a beverage, which meant that you had to walk even further. 

“anyways, how do you feel about going back into the scene again?” 

“no,” you quickly replied. “i’m not doing that shit again” 

“i’m not talking about being in a serious relationship.” 

“what do you mean then?” 

“i think it’s time for y/n to return to the hoe life,” jaehwan said. “i’ve been missing my thotty bestie.” 

“you really think it’s a good time for me to get blackout drunk every staturday night again?” 

“hey, you were the one that said you’re doing fine,” jaehwan countered with your own words. “i think we need to transition out of the i’m-so-sad-i-miss-him phase and into lets-get-fucking-hammered.”  

“we?” 

“you act like you’ve been going through a breakup alone. this has been a team effort, it's like i’ve been dumped too,” he replied as if if made sense. and according to jaehwan logic, it did. 

a small smile picked up the corners of your lips, typical jaehwan.

he was a friend that's been with you through everything little up and down since middle school. despite his blunt words, jaehwan was the first person that you called after the breakup and watch as you went through three pints of strawberry cheesecake ice cream and ten thousand boxes of tissues. not to mention, he even offered to beat your ex-boyfriend up in multiple violent ways. 

jaehwan was the best bestfriend you could possibly ask for. 

turning the cart into the alcohol aisle, you asked, “what type of booze do you want? the sweet type or the sophisticated one?” 

“the one we can pregame with for the party tomorrow” your friend stated. 

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words got trapped in your throat once your eyes laid upon a familiar figure debating between two bottles of wine. 

“i’m taking your sudden silence as a yes to the party-” 

he didn’t seem to notice you yet as he was heavily invested in making a decision between two bottles of wine, so you quickly turned around and stopped in another aisle.

“holy shit,” you breathed out. 

“why? did something happen?” 

“he’s fucking here right now,” you spilled out. 

“who?” 

“you know who!” you whispered aggressively in fear that he could hear you. “i just saw hwang minhyun in the alcohol aisle!” 

“oh.” he said. “that’s not good.” 

“fuck your alcohol jaehwan, i’m going home,” you said, not wanting to return to the aisle next to you in fear of facing the last person you wanted to see right now. 

“wait! hold on,” jaehwan argued. “we need the booze so stop being a pussy and listen to me. if he’s buying alcohol at two in the morning, it doesn’t really show that he’s in the best of shape right now so just go for it.” 

“jaehwan, did you forget that i’m also going to buy alcohol at two in the morning?” you pointed out. “doesn’t exactly say i’m-doing-perfectly-fine-without-you to me either” 

“at least you have a shopping cart full of vegetables to back you up,” jaehwan try to reason. “and the other adult shit you bought.” 

“i have a total of two vegetables in my cart, jaehwan.” you said. “not a fucking farmers’ market.” 

“just go for it. he’s not someone in your life anymore so it shouldn’t matter what he thinks,” jaehwan reminded you. “i have an essay due at like six so i’m gonna go bs it, but you really need to grow a pair and buy my booze. i’ll see you tomorrow night and you better pull out that one hoe-y dress of yours.” 

and the called ended with a small beep. 

fuck, you thought to yourself. you contemplated on whether or not you really wanted to face minhyun right now. 

maybe you were lying a tad bit when you told everyone that you were okay and that you were doing just peachy without him. maybe it was a small white lie that you told to reassure everyone around you and maybe yourself. maybe you were still in love with him. maybe. 

biting on your lip, you finally made the decision to just suck it up and do it. if anything, you could just drown yourself in alcohol tomorrow. a perfect back-up plan, kinda. 

when you looked back to the aisle, minhyun was still there, except there was another bottle replacing one of the others you saw in his hands earlier. minhyun had always been particular with his food from what you could recall. actually, from what you know. 

perhaps you could just shimmy your way past him (who was standing straight in the middle of the aisle) and perhaps he wouldn’t even notice it. so with some resolve, you charged (not really) forward to get past him to get to where the tequila was. 

except, minhyun was a very hypersensitive person that becomes ten times alert once someone enters his little personal bubble. it was something that you once that was endearing and unique, now, it was the bane of your existence. 

as you tried to pass by behind him quietly, his head whipped and made eye contact with you. 

you froze as minhyun’s eyes widened once he registered who you were. 

he opened his mouth to say something, but you muttered a quick excuse me before passing by him. you ignored his stares and the heavy silence as you beelined towards the tequila section. 

you quickly placed in two bottles (and maybe a third) and prepared to leave when you heard his small voice you missed so much. 

“how are you?” 

you bit the inside of your cheek, should you respond? 

you did anyways. 

“i’m fine.”

you pushed your cart away to quickly escape, wondering exactly who you were saying it too. minhyun? or yourself?

you were a fool to think that you were okay when you were the entire opposite.

[justlookfrightened]

Locked out, Part 21

Start from the beginning here:  Part 1

Read previous installment here: Part 20 

The next morning, Eric awoke to the sun slanting through Jack’s blinds, Jack’s pillow vacant beside him. He stretched his arms above his head, pointing his toes towards the foot of the bed and took inventory. His head was clear -- the last of three gin and tonics had been at about six p.m., leaving him only slightly tipsy and with plenty of time to sober up before he went to sleep. His muscles were almost stiff from sleeping so long and so deeply. Usually when he stayed with Jack, they woke up together, either to go running or engage in other physical activities.

They had indulged last night, when Eric had herded Jack to bed as soon as they got back to the condo, and said, “You want me to show you how good my hands are?”

Which sounded ridiculous now, as he replayed it in his mind. He was still feeling the effects of the alcohol then, he supposed, so that could be an excuse. But he probably didn’t need one, because Jack had responded … enthusiastically. And at length.

The rest of the barbecue had been fine, despite the vulgar jokes and constant chirping. Eric thought Jack had been a little worried about that, but after sharing a locker room -- and the Haus -- with Ransom and Holster and Shitty (good Lord, Shitty! Out to prove you could have a filthy mouth without being misogynistic and heteronormative) -- Eric had been more than up to the challenge. What he was worried about was feeling a sense of disapproval, or that Jack’s  teammates were uncomfortable with him, or with the idea of him and Jack being together. In a way, their teasing was reassuring.

Today Shitty and Lardo were coming down, at Jack’s invitation. It should be more low-key than yesterday, and Eric had no worries about how they would react to his sexuality; Shitty was the first person he’d come out to, and Lardo had known he was gay from the day she met him, and both of them were among his best friends. Maybe he had a few worries about Shitty keeping his clothes on, but Lardo was usually able to contain him.

Eric rolled over to look at his phone. Nine o’clock. He had slept late. No wonder Jack had gotten up without him. He sat up and then shuffled to the bathroom, relieving his bladder and brushing his teeth. Then he pulled on shorts and T-shirt from his duffel before going to the kitchen to make coffee.

Jack was on the couch, headphones on, watching something on his laptop, so Eric detoured in that direction. He leaned over the back of the couch to drop a kiss on the top of Jack’s head, just because he could.

Jack jerked so violently that Eric was nearly rewarded with a bloody nose.

“Ouch!” He stepped back, rubbing at his face.

“Shit, Eric, I’m sorry,” Jack said. “You startled me.”

“No kidding,” Eric said, coming around to sit next to Jack. “My fault. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. What’s got you so absorbed anyway?”

The laptop screen was playing something in black-and-white, something military. Another documentary?

“Nothing, really,” Jack said, closing the screen. “I’ve seen it before. Is your face okay?”

“It’ll be fine, although the situation begs for a joke about how hard-headed you are,” Eric said.

“C’mere,” Jack said, wrapping a hand around the back of Eric’s head to draw him close and fluttering delicate kisses over his nose and cheeks. “Better?”

“Getting there,” Eric said. “I’ll make coffee.”

“I’ll do it,” Jack said.

“Then breakfast,” Eric said.

“I ate,” Jack said.

“Really ate? Not just a protein shake?”

“Bananas, blueberries and yogurt,” Jack said. “And peanut butter on toast.”

“Fine,” Eric said, following Jack into the kitchen. “Then breakfast for me.”

Eric poured some blueberries over yogurt and made his own peanut butter toast. He had just started eating when Jack set a mug, complete with cream and sugar, at his elbow.

“What’s your plan for this morning?” Jack said. “I already went for a run, so whatever you need I can do.”

A run, then breakfast -- with the dishes already cleaned up -- and a documentary? “How early did you get up?”

“Around 6?” Jack said. “I couldn’t go back to sleep, but you seemed tired, so I didn’t want to wake you. I showered in the guest bathroom so you could rest.”

“Aww, sweetpea, you could have showered in your own bathroom,” Eric said. “But thanks for letting me sleep in. We should have enough time to go to the market -- I just need a couple of things.”

Jack remained quiet as Bitty finished his breakfast, rinsed his dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then dressed in something slightly more presentable.

At the farmers market, Bitty picked up a flat each of strawberries and blueberries for pie and some fresh rosemary and thyme for the turkey breast he planned to cook on the grill.

Jack pretended to be watching his documentary while Bitty prepped the turkey and vegetables and assembled his pies, but Eric caught Jack stealing glances at him whenever Jack thought he wasn’t looking.

One the turkey was on the grill, the strawberry pie was chilling and the blueberry pie was in the oven, Bitty plopped himself next to Jack.

“What’s the matter?” he said. “I’m not getting the feeling you’re mad at me, exactly, but something is bothering you.”

“Not really,” Jack said. “I’m just a little nervous about your friends.”

“Wait -- what?” Eric said. Because the idea of Jack (professional athlete, almost definitely multimillionaire, best-butt-in-the-NHL Jack) being nervous about meeting Shitty and Lardo was laughable. Sure, they were both phenomenal people, both had awesome bullshit sensors, but they were among the most accepting people Eric had ever met.

He said as much, and Jack said, “I know. You’ve said as much before. But they’re clearly important to you. What if they don’t like me? Or what if they think I’m not good for you?”

‘Do you think you’re good for me?”

“I try to be,” Jack said.

“I hope you’re not trying too hard, Mister Zimmermann,” Eric said. “I want it to be easy for you. Because it’s easy for me to be with you.”

“Being with you is easy,” Jack said. “I have fun skating with you, and baking with you, and, well, everything else. But I want you -- and your friends -- to know how important you are to me,” Jack said. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” Eric said. “I promise. Look, Lardo went to the Haus with you to get my hockey cookie cutters to surprise me, right? She wouldn’t have done that -- especially without warning me -- if she didn’t already like you. And if I like you, and Lardo likes you, then Shitty is almost guaranteed to like you.”

“I know, and I know you came to the barbecue yesterday, and you were a good sport about it all,” Jack said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Then don’t worry about them,” Eric said. “I’m gonna get the vegetables ready to put on.”

On his way to the sink, he picked up his phone and texted Lardo and Shitty.

Be nice. He’s really nervous about meeting you.

Half an hour later, Jack’s phone rang.

“They’re on their way up,” he told Eric, and opened the door.

The next sound Eric heard was Shitty’s voice.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you magnificent specimen of a human being! Shitty Knight, but you knew that. Bring it in, brah!”

Lardo appeared, making her way around a befuddled Jack.

“You have to be careful when you tell Shitty to be nice,” she said.

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

Tagging:  @thehockeyhaus @cow-mow@communistchexmix@falling-out-girl  @whatnowpunk@wikihowpunk @zimboniiiiii  @butterflyimportantstuff @ladyaulis@delicatelycrispyblizzard @cyn2k @eyesforeverwithpride @bookbelle494

Read the next installment: Part 22

[crowkingwrites]

Battle of the Bands (Ch.5)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2714 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four

You stood in line for elephant ear, and the smell of the cinnamon and sugar were teasing you. Every time you stepped closer the smell grew stronger. As if the booth was giving you a preview of what was to come. You watched a teenage couple walk away with their own treat. You wished you were a worse person so you could steal theirs and feel no guilt about it.

Once you reached the front of the booth, you placed your order and within moments you had your own elephant ear in your hands. The dough was the size of a small country. The cinnamon and sugar left your mouth salivating. You tasted it. All of the sweetness melted in your mouth and you wondered why vegetables even existed. Why eat healthy when you could live off of elephant ears?

You heard music from both sides of the festival, but you didn’t feel like going to any concerts with your hands full of dough and sugar. That’s when the idea smacked you in the face.

Renly had spent last year writing about the music and bands. Some gained fame from his writings. But, there was also local food and local artists here as well. Selling their food and art to everyone. They equally sent their time working hard for this festival. They should be known too.

Everywhere around you had different booths filled with either food, art, or a charity or two who wanted to be known. Some had lines, others had one or two people wandering around. You stood in front of another menu staring at the chalk and the impressive handwriting you wouldn’t even try to copy. You ordered something more savory. A chicken parm sandwich warmed your hands and your heart while you ate it. You felt your phone vibrate, but you ignored it. Between bites, you wrote notes and possible questions to ask them later. As you took your last bite, your eyes glazed over two young men hovering next to a homemade lemonade booth.

As you got closer, one of them started to look familiar.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey! Come here!” Viserys shouted out to you. His hand waved in the air, beckoning you to come to him. Once you reached him, he offered you his lemonade. You sipped it without question. After a big gulp, you cringed and stepped back.

“What is that?!” you exclaimed.

“It’s vodka. Vodka and lemonade.” Viserys chuckled. His friend started to laugh too. You took another look at him and recognized the dark curls, blue eyes, and cocky smile.

“You’re that guy. The Bastard guy.” You told him.

“Bastard guy,” Viserys chuckled. His friend pushed him.

“It’s Ramsay. I’m not a real bastard,” Ramsay explained. Viserys snorted and took another sip of his alcoholic concoction. “Some people claim I’m a bastard. I just think I’m an asshole.”

“It’s alright. I get along with both bastards and assholes.”

“She does,” Viserys added. He winked and then gave Ramsay a look.

“Wait, is this the girl you told me about?” Ramsay asked, pointing to you.

“What?” You reacted, smiling at Viserys. “You talking about me?”

“I may be talking about you. I told Ramsay I knew the girl he kissed the first night he performed.” Your face turned red.

“So that was you?” Ramsay smiled. After you nodded, Ramsay kept talking. “You’re a good kisser.”

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself. If someone came to you last summer and told you that you’d be hanging out with two lead singers from rock bands and that you had kissed both of them, you would slap the shit out of that someone. But here you were. Standing in between them like you were the meat of the hottie sandwich.

“So, who are you interviewing today? Someone appropriate for the boss?” Viserys said. You shook your head.

“I told you. He doesn’t tell me what to do. Besides, I’m not interviewing. I’m eating.”

“What? Are you off today?”

“No,” you said. “I’m doing a piece on the fest’s food and art.” You felt your phone vibrate again, and you ignored it again.

“Wait,” Ramsay held his hands up. “You’re gonna spend all day eating and drinking and then write about it?”

“Basically yeah.”

Without another beat, Ramsay nodded his head. “I’m fucking in.”

“Me too,” Viserys quickly said afterward. He nodded his head to the lemonade booth. “They got different flavors here. Some with alcohol, some with actual fruit. You looked at the menu more, enticed by Viserys’ endorsement. The selection between fruit and alcohol and twists on normal lemonade made your decision overwhelming. Until you saw them making frozen strawberry lemonade.

You carried the cold drink in your hands while the boys and you wandered at different booths. The first booth carried homemade soaps and beauty products. The smells of oatmeal, lavender, and mint tickled your nose each time you smelled a different soap. You interviewed the owner who was more than happy to answer any question you had. He gave you and the boys free samples of new products he was going to try.

While you waited with Ramsay, Viserys went to the bathroom after the third alcoholic he had that day. Your phone vibrated again. This time you checked it. Robb’s name showed up. You explained your piece to him and put your phone away.

“He was like this on tour too,” Ramsay commented to you. “Drinking and then pissing. Drinking more. Pissing more. Then he would sing. Then drank and pissed more.”

“Well, at least he’s good at three things,” you shrugged and then laughed with Ramsay. His laughter faded while yours continued.

“You know you’re really cute,” Ramsay said. “I kind of regretted that kiss at first, but I really don’t now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

You hadn’t really thought about it. It was a spontaneous kiss. You thought you would never see him again or know his name. Then again, you felt a pull to him. Like he was something terrible and you wanted more of it no matter how bad it was for you.

“If I had to be honest,” you started. “I think I’d like to kiss you more too.” “We can make that happen,” Ramsay winked. Viserys tucked in his 80s rock shirt into his black pants and sniffed the air as if he smelled something awful.

“What are you guys talking about?” His eyes squinted at both of you until he slid down his sunglasses.

“Nothing. I’m just winning a bet. That’s all.” Ramsay started to walk away without the two of you.

“Wait. What? What bet?” You asked Ramsay.

“The one where Viz thinks he can win you over. He told me about you two making out in the trailer.”

“You told him that?!” you pushed Viserys a bit.

“Yeah I did. I’m sorry, do you not brag to your friends about making out with hot boys?” Viserys said. You frowned at him. Viserys had a good fucking point and there was nothing you could do about it. That bastard. You told Margie about every by you’ve kissed, loved, hated, and punched. You remembered telling Margie about your prom sex and she was thrilled for you.

“Whatever,” you shook your head while laughing. “Too bad both of you have competition.” You thought you heard Viserys make a choking noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” Ramsay asked. His face turned from soft to hard.

“It means what it means. You two aren’t the only guys I’ve spent time with. Winning me over won’t be easy,” you shrugged, smiled and kept going, leaving them in the dust.

“It’s your boss isn’t it? I had a feeling he liked you,” Viserys was smart. You’ll give him that, but you didn’t satisfy him with an answer.

“Your boss? You’re a risky one, aren’t you?” Ramsay’s smile tried to hide itself, but you noticed it anyways. You felt a bit dangerous. As if you had Ramsay, Viserys, Jon, and Robb in the palm of your hands. Each of them interested in you. They couldn’t keep up with you. It was a powerful feeling, and a good one.

The day continued. Booth after booth you interviewed artist after artist, merchant after merchant, and even a street performer who was learning how to play with fire. Ramsay, Viserys, and you ate more food together. The sun was setting and your belly was full of empanadas, loaded fries, green tea ice cream, and more lemonade than you ever drank in your life.

Viserys moaned. “I have to go to sound check.” His voice dragged on every single word. His legs sprawled out on the grass. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well if you don’t go, there won’t be a show to go to,” you explained. “I’ll go if you promise to hang with me later,” Viserys winked at you. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll hang, but don’t poison me like that again.”

“That’s how he is. He makes you three drinks and you don’t remember things,” Ramsay explained.

“I have a feeling that’s happened a lot.” You said as you watched Viserys stand up.

“I still don’t remember what happened on Halloween two years ago,” Ramsay stared off into the distance. “The only thing he’ll tell me is that I spent 75 dollars.”

“On what?” you looked to Viserys who was snickering.

“You don’t wanna know. You think you do, but you don’t.” Without another word, Viserys left you with the bastard alone again. Ramsay shifted closer to you.

“Do you have a show tonight?” you asked Ramsay who was watching his friend walk away into the crowd.

“No, I’m actually off tonight. The rest of the band will probably join us soon actually. We wanted to watch Blackfyre together. Do you wanna come? Or will your boss be mad that you haven’t written anything?”

You laughed. “Why do you and Viserys think that Robb Stark runs my life?”

“Robb Stark is your boss?” Ramsay snorted. “Oh yeah. He definitely runs your life.” Your felt your phone vibrate. As you check it, you caught Ramsay trying to read your messages. You kept your phone to yourself and finished your message before your attention returned to Ramsay.

“He doesn’t run my life.”

“Then who texted you?”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Is it now?” Ramsay challenged. His eyes held a dangerous idea and you were itching to know. “Prove it. Come hang with me tonight and don’t write that article.”

“It’s due tomorrow morning. I have to post it by 7am.”

Ramsay shrugged. “He runs your life.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then come with me. Drink with me. Kiss me,” Ramsay inched closer to you.

“Are you trying to win the bet?” you asked before truly answering his request.

“I don’t need to win the bet,” Ramsay explained. “I could have you if I wanted to.”

“Oh? How so?” you chuckled. Ramsay’s hand wrapped around you and pulled you closer. His eyes were much bluer than you thought. Here you thought that only angels had blue eyes, then again, the devil was an angel too. His lips parted, and suddenly you felt a thirst you hadn’t felt with Viserys. Ramsay’s finger tucked itself under your chin.

“See? I don’t need to do much. I don’t need this bet. I already have you.”

You wanted to punch him for saying that, but you realized how close you were to him. For the second time today, he was right. He spoke as if his voice was laced with something dangerous. He smoked as if he didn’t care what happened to his body. His eye bags hung so low that you wondered if he ever slept.

“Let’s say I go somewhere with you, what would we do?”

“Are you asking me if we would play it safe or not?”

“I’m asking you what we would do,” you repeated your question. Ramsay shifted his weight and stared over at the main stage.

“I have an idea,” Ramsay smirked.

He did tell you his friends would want to watch the Blackfyre show. What Ramsay did not tell you is that his band had bought a large amount of weed with them. When you finished a smoking session with them, you felt so calm that anxiety was only a word in a dictionary. You could say you felt ‘funny’, but you also felt like yourself only happier. The loaded fries you shared with the bass player melted in your mouth along with the gravy that topped it. You made a mental note to include it in your food article.

Your backstage pass got you onto the stage with Blackfyre with Ramsay and the rest of his band. All of you stood stage left behind the scenes, watching Blackfyre set up their stage for the night. You felt arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“Oh hello,” you giggled. You weren’t sure if you giggled because of the marijuana you smoked or because Ramsay’s fingers tickled your sides.

“Hello,” his voice purred into your ear. He held you there in that position while you both lost yourselves in listening to the sound check. You knew it wasn’t the actual show, but the random notes that played danced in your head. Ramsay and you tried to make a song out of it, but both of you laughed when Ramsay rhymed ‘stoop’ with ‘poop’.

When Viserys took the stage you perked up excited to finally watch him play. You had moved here from out of state, and everyone told you how good they were. Even Margaery.

The first guitar and drum notes started to play and you watched the audience get pumped up and scream as the first song started to roll out. Viserys started to sing. His dark and deep voice greeted your ears like a mysterious handsome stranger in the night asking to use your phone.

All we know that's time It's slipping from our lives I want to get the truth Hidden in the lies

The guitar swelled and you had the feeling this song would want to make you hack into the government and take them down or at least punch something in the name of anarchy. You started to stare at Viserys more. His tattered shirt showed off his body’s tattoos.

Standing on the stage Bleeding out out youth Create the holy one And sell it back to you

Ramsay’s arms tightened around you. “You like looking at him, huh? What about me?” He was playing a game. You didn’t need to be high to know that, but you did decide to play along.

“You’re hot too, but I think he’s the better kisser.” You shot back. You felt Ramsay squeeze your sides. His hot breath warmed your ear.

“Is that a challenge?”

You turned around and took the risk. Your hands wrapped around his neck. Your lips met his perfectly. You moved against him to see if he was bluffing, he wasn’t. Ramsay opened his mouth to let you in, but quickly took control soon after. His kiss was deep and mesmerizing. You forgot everyone around you and focused on his mouth. Your eyes opened slightly to see Ramsay was looking elsewhere.

You pulled away to see Viserys, still preforming, looking to both of you. His eyes narrowed and an angry frown found his face. Luckily, he was singing an angry song. He screamed into the mic while the mosh pit grew intense.

“You’re trying to make him jealous? Bold.” You commented. Ramsay grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the stage.

“Wanna go somewhere private? We could continue,” Ramsay’s voice trailed off. At that moment, you remembered your last mental note.

“Not tonight,” you winked. You gave Ramsay one last kiss before you left him in the dust. You could hear him calling after you, but you ignored it. A smile formed on your face. As you walked through the crowd, your mind was sobering up from the whole ordeal. You could say you weren’t paying attention or still just high off of Ramsay. You bumped into someone, and when you backed up you felt hairs on your skin rise.

“Where have you been?” Robb asked you. “Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

Note to Self: Answer your damn phone.

Taglist:  @angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen @sleepylunarwolf @loki-0fasgard @boltonblade @affabletimelady@falling-stars-never-cry

(To be added to the taglist, only ask friend! I will happily add you. Or remove you. No questions asked.)

[whiskas-pandastar]

Their Time in Crocus

Fairy Tail week 2018

Prompt Day 2: Crocus

Summary: What went down on the day when Team Natsu arrived in Crocus on the day before the Grand Magic Games and Natsu and Lucy went to explore Crocus.

Genre: Friendship/Romance

Rating:K

A/n: this is set one day before the Grand Magic Games.

"Hey Lucy...how long are you gonna sit here and read?" Happy asked dejectedly, sitting on top of the bookshelf where Lucy was reading.

Lucy frowned at him, "I don't know, maybe a few more minutes,"

"You said that half an hour ago." Happy rolled his eyes.

"Well, I just started reading!" Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh come on, let's go already!" Natsu whined. Lucy squeaked when she found Natsu lying on the floor just next to her feet.

"Natsu what are you doing?!" Lucy stepped away.

Natsu proceeded to ignore her, "This is festival time!" he exclaimed. "There's a whole new world out there!"

"Don't forget we're here to play the Grand Magic Games! We are representing our guild and so we can't cause any ruckus. We shouldn't overexert ourselves!" Lucy laid down her case. "I'm also feeling a little sore because of the second origin release." she stretched her arms a little.

Happy giggled, "Old lady... "

"Watch it, stupid kitty!" Lucy grumbled. "Why are you guys even here, I didn't ask you to come with me anyway," she said more to herself.

"Lucy, let's go!" Natsu and Happy started whining loudly, attracting looks from other people in the store.

Lucy hid her face behind the book, "Knock it off, both of you! People are looking!"

Despite her warning, the two of them continued their antics. Lucy quickly put the book away and grabbed Natsu's arm and Happy's tail and swiftly dragged them out. She didn't want to face the humiliation of being kicked out the store with them, which had already been done countless times before.

"Sheesh, you guys!" Lucy pouted angrily.

"Mission success!" Natsu and Happy gave each other a high-five. "Aye sir!" Happy chirped.

"Well? Where do you want to go?" she raised a brow, still not pleased with what went down at the bookstore.

Natsu grinned widely, "Thought you'd never ask!" He grabbed her hand and dragged her along with him.

"Wait a second- Natsu!" Lucy huffed, trying to catch up with Natsu's speed.

They ran into the shopping district, which was the most lively place in Crocus today.

Lucy was amazed to see the wave of people, children, youngsters,  couples and elderly people too. It felt like the whole of Fiore had gathered up to see the Grand Magic Games.

That only added to the weight in her heart, the nervousness that bubbled in her stomach at the thought of a tournament they had no idea about. 7 years had gone by, and they had to make up for the lost time. She had to uphold the guild's pride. They were all counting on her. She had to make them proud. This was her only way of paying them back for all they had done.

She knew she wasn't as strong as Natsu, Gray or Erza. She was aware of her limitations. But giving up wasn't an option. She had to fight for herself, and her friends. She wanted to make everyone proud of her. She had to do her best, no matter what.

Lucy was driven away from her thoughts as Natsu shoved an ice-cream in her hands. "Ice-cream. Eat it. " he said simply. It was her favorite flavor, butterscotch with fresh strawberries and kiwis. Lucy smiled, "Thanks."

As Natsu silently watched her lick down the ice-cream, Lucy asked, "Wanna try it, Natsu?"

Natsu turned his head with a grunt, "You know I can't do ice-cream,"

Lucy smiled, "Come on, one bite, here, II'll go get another spoon," Before she could go, Natsu swooped the spoon from her hand, "No need for that," and put the ice-cream in his mouth.

An intense blush spread across her face, "Natsu! That was my spoon!" she squealed helplessly.

Natsu with a gulp of the icy thing found steam blowing from his ears. "I can't take it after all!!!" He yelled rubbing his face animatedly.

"Good grief!' Happy laughed. Lucy couldn't hold in her laughter too long at the misery of the Fire dragon slayer. Lucy had already forgotten what she was feeling glum about. She decided to put all the bad thoughts away and enjoy her time in this new city.

"Hey, I heard that Fairy Tail is participating in the Grand Magic Games this year-" Their ears perked up at the mention of their guild name. Two men were sitting on the bench and drinking alcohol in broad daylight.

His partner, a skinny guy with a shrunk face, laughed, "Fairy Tail? The guild that's always losing?! They should call themselves Fairy Losers by now!" he laughed harder at his joke.

"I heard that their core members have returned. It seems that they were quite the thing 7 years ago." the stout guy informed.

"Hah, that was 7 years ago. Trash like that should remain in their history books." he said menacingly and snickered.

Natsu, who was growling with rage had balled his fists in anger. He was about to storm to them when Lucy's better judgement stopped him.

She put a hand over his chest, "Wait-Natsu. Let me deal with this." Lucy  strode over in confidence.

"Hey you!" she pointed at the guy. "You're from the guild Titan's Nose aren't you? The same guild whose master shipped banned magic goods and was caught by Fairy Tail? The same guild that begged for mercy to Fairy Tail and promised to turn good if they didn't report it to the council?" Lucy smirked at their speechless faces, "Looks like you need to revise your history books."

She was about to turn away when she  added, "Oh, and as for the Grand Magic Games, we're gonna kick your butt! Don't you dare underestimate Fairy Tail, you hear me?!" she walked away, taking her ice-cream from the stunned Natsu and Happy.

"You guys coming?" Lucy asked.

"Yes ma'am!" Natsu and Happy replied mechanically.

There were so many shops to explore here. There were antiques, bags, jewelry, home decor, books, magazines, spices, groceries, clothes, all in one place. Artsy restaurants and quaint cafés were sprinkled in between. Lucy had to admit that this place had a greater variety than the market in Magnolia.

"Huge sale! Great discount at Eve Boutique only for today! Hurry!" A salesgirl shouted out loud.

Lucy hummed, "Maybe I should go and check out some clothes."

Natsu and Happy grumbled, "Oh come on! We just got out of the bookstore and now you want to go clothes shopping?"

"50% off on all apparel, bags and shoes!" the salesgirl continued her drag.

Lucy's eyes sparkled as she quivered with excitement, "Sale on shoes?! Let's go!" She linked her arm with Natsu and dragged him in with her. "Hey-!" Natsu squirmed but it was too late.

They entered the bright shop that had loud, upbeat music playing on the lacrimas. It was an attractive shop that had cute clothes for girls with a neat display.

Lucy squealed, "I love it all!" all starry-eyed she picked up a pair of white boots and black pencil heels. She moved around animatedly trying on hair accessories and holding up a shirt in the mirror.

She held a black embroidered top, "Hey Natsu, how does this look?"

Natsu picked his nose in a typical disinterested fashion, "Huh, looks great." He said without looking at it.

"Lucy, look, it's double cat ears!" Happy tried on a hairband that had cat ears on it.

Lucy pouted, "Ugh, okay you know what, I'll quickly buy these boots. You both go wait outside the shop."

"Great," Natsu waved his hands in resignation.

"Aye." Happy murmured and they found their way out.

Lucy sighed, "Okay, let's see which one's my size,"

Less than a moment later, Natsu tapped Lucy's shoulder, "Natsu?"

"Lucy, try this!" Natsu excitedly held up a red pleated mini skirt.

Happy held up a white off-shoulder top. "And this too!"

"Eh?" Lucy was surprised. "What the heck you guys?"

"Come on, just try it on!" They pushed the clothes in her hands. "Wait a second, these aren't my size!" Lucy said with a quick look from the tag.

Natsu took another look and agreed, "Right, excuse me!" He called out to a nearby salesgirl, "Do you have a size smaller than this?"

The girl came over, smiling ear to ear, "Yes sir. Could you tell me the exact size you want?"

Lucy started to speak when Natsu answered immediately, "Small size, waist 59cm and Hip 88cm."

"Understood, I'll go get it immediately," the girl said and rushed away.

"What the- How does Natsu know my measurements?!" Lucy blushed red.

"With all the time Natsu spends with you, it's obvious Lucy!" Happy said simply as if that was common sense.

"What does that even mean?!" Lucy turned even more red, if that were possible.

The girl came over and handed the skirt to Natsu, "There, now go try it on!" he said pushing it into her hands and pushing her towards the trial room.

"Okay, okay I got it!" She pouted. She pulled the curtain and started changing. It was strange that Natsu was suddenly taking interest in her clothes. Although, Lucy had to admit, she felt a little happy that he chose something for her.

"Are you done yet?" she heard Natsu's impatient voice from outside.

"Geez, wait a minute, will you?" Lucy answered back while pulling the shirt over her head. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled. The dress showed off her legs and her collar bones. She was used to showing her skin but this outfit had a different vibe.

"I'm pulling the curtain!" Natsu announced and immediately pulled over. Lucy turned and smiled, feeling a little abashed. Natsu stared at her intensely head to toe, making her feel self conscious. "Well?" Lucy asked, waiting for his reaction. He looked like he was in deep thought.

The salesgirl from earlier smiled, "That looks great on you ma'am! That is one of our bestsellers here," She looked at Natsu, "Your boyfriend has an excellent taste!"

Lucy jumped at the comment, her heart thumping furiously against her chest, "N-no no, we're not-"

"Take that off!" Natsu pulled at her shirt.

"Excuse me!?" Lucy backed away, crossing her arms over her chest. The salesgirl put her hands over her mouth, looking far too excited and invested.

"Try this on instead," He held up pastel purple backless crop top with cute unattached half sleeves and a black corset.

Lucy was amazed at Natsu's particular choices. Who knew the dragon slayer had a good fashion sense? Maybe she should ask him for fashion tips.

Natsu finally nodded, giving a thumbs up, "Looks good!"

Lucy couldn't help but feel shy once again at his open feelings. This side of Natsu was new to her. But she did enjoy it.

"They liiikeeeeach other !" Happy rolled his tongue.

"Shut up, stray cat!" Lucy yelled , feeling embarrassed.

As Lucy finalised her purchase, she noticed a few magazines on a rack near the counter. She realized that she had a copy of the latest issue in her house and all the clothes that featured in it were sold here. And then it struck her. Natsu was reading her magazines when he spent time in her house. Whether intentionally or idly, he was keeping the trends in mind.

Lucy couldn't help but smile. Natsu was such a sweet boy sometimes. Having him around always lifted her spirits. She could be herself and have fun. Even though Happy and Natsu troubled her and teased her from time to time, she knew they always had her best at heart and truly cared for her.

She couldn't imagine her life without them, even their usual barging in her house.

Lucy smiled all the way out, feeling elated after their little outing. They decided to grab a snack at the stalls and see a few more places around the town. Crocus being the flower capital, they donned flower crowns and garlands that were given to all the tourists.

They watched various street performances; magic shows, musicians playing music and dancers. The upbeat music had gathered a mob of dancing people and Lucy dragged Natsu along to join her. She smiled and laughed with Natsu and Happy, having a great time.

"Ah that was so much fun!" Lucy exhaled, the excitement still lingering in her bones. The dancing crowd was chattering as they dispersed in big groups.

"Lucy got too excited!" Happy giggled, flying in the air.

"All that movement made me more hungry!" Natsu complained, folding his hands over his head.

The density of moving people had increased as the performances ended and it became dark. Lucy had to keep pushing people to follow Natsu and Happy.

Happy sighed with exasperation, "Hungry already? You just ate two bags of popcorn!"

Lucy was finding it more and more difficult to keep pace with them. The mob of people seemed to sweep her away.

"Eh? So what? That wasn't enough!" Natsu remarked.

She was already losing sight of Natsu and Happy, their voices getting lost in the numerous sounds surrounding them. Her heart started thumping, the feeling of claustrophobia eating away at her mind.

Crushed by the onslaught of people, her dry throat couldn't get a voice out. It felt like she was drowning in the sea of people, getting swallowed by the earth.

Fear gripped her mind, "I don't want to be alone...Dont leave me, Natsu-!" She stretched her hand out helplessly, trying to reach him.

A warm hand grabbed her outstretched hand, "Lucy?" Natsu's voice sounded gentle and soft against the noisy town, close to her.

"Lucy where did you go? We got worried that you got lost!" Happy cried.

"Are you alright?" Natsu asked, scrutinizing her face.

Lucy gulped and nodded slightly, "Yes I'm fine." she managed to croak out. She wasn't sure what had suddenly gotten over her. The irrational fear and anxiety was something she had never experienced before.

Natsu seemed to notice her discomfort immediately. He clasped her hand firmly and pulled her close, "I'm here. Lets go." he said reassuredly.

And that was all Lucy needed to hear. He pulled her along with him, never leaving her hand even once. They walked through the maze of people until they were free from the constant rocking and pushing.

"I'm fine now, I promise." it was only when she said that was when Natsu finally let her hand go.

"Thank you, Natsu, Happy." She pulled them into a hug, effectively surprising them. Natsu and Happy exchanged worried looks. They knew Lucy was sensitive and quite frankly, they didn't always know how to react when she was like that.

When she pulled away, Natsu rubbed his neck and looked everywhere else, but at Lucy. "Uh, so should we return?"

"Okay," Lucy nodded. "But only after a dinner treat with me!" she winked.

Natsu and Happy rejoiced, glad that Lucy was back to normal and Lucy successfully threw off the awkward air between them.

After all, a good meal was what pleased these dorks the most.

A/n- after that dinner they meet the twin dragons and return to their dorm at 12. Hope you enjoyed this short story! :)

[team-science-mega-nerds]

30 Miles East: Chapter Two

One night, instead of drinking, Alex gets the brilliant idea to cut her hair. She’s bored, and Kara’s busy saving the world as a journalist for a change, so she just kinda goes for it. Her brain short circuits into panic when she sees what she’s done, and she is a second away from drowning herself in booze when she gets the bright idea to actually be an active participant in her own life.

Vasquez arrives about an hour later with hair clippers. But she refuses to actually do anything about Alex’s hair until she gets some quality cuddle time with Xena, and at least five minutes to laugh at Alex’s attempt at living out her teenage angst. Despite being so annoying, Vasquez is really good at doing hair, and as she’s clipping away, she kind of chuckles to herself. “You’re gonna look so gay.” Alex rolls her eyes, but when she turns around she’s actually stunned.

Vasquez has given her an undercut, and trimmed the rest of her hair just enough to give it a nice flow at the top of her head. “You like it, right?” Alex loves it. She loves it so much that she volunteers to cat sit for Vasquez next weekend, while she goes to some Con in Metropolis.

Her confidence is boosted when she stops by L-Corp, and hears someone shout “Damn!” through a conference room. When she turns around Lena is racing after her with a grin. “Alex, you look amazing.” They head toward her office where Jess actually drops her mug when she sees Alex. “Jess...you’re a hot mess,” Lena says before rushing over to help her clean up.

“Didn’t mean to cause an uproar,” Alex jokes. Jess blushes, and Lena looks between them laughing. When things have settled, Alex finds herself sitting out on Lena’s balcony munching on her lunch across from Lena.

This is...weird, Alex thinks. Mostly because a year ago she would never think that she’d be spending any time with Lena, let alone going out of her way to do so. But they both love Kara, and that gave them an actual avenue to connect, and their brains pretty much did the rest. Alex likes the way Lena’s always up for a challenge. She enjoys the hint of defiance that always colors their conversations. It’s actually nice to have a friend who isn’t constantly hovering around the subject of Maggie as if Alex will break if her name gets mentioned.

Because Alex did break, and she is broken, but that doesn’t mean she won’t find a way to keep existing. “Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were getting a haircut? You know Kara’s going to be upset about not getting to do fun before and after pictures.”

“I just kinda did it. Vasquez helped me look presentable, at least.” Alex runs her fingers through her hair, still loving the way it feels.

“Well, it’s so you,” Lena adds. “So, enough about you. I have a new project I’m working on,” Lena starts. “It’s basically an attachment for your bike.”

“It’s Ducati specific?”

“It’s Alex specific.” Lena says jabbing at Alex’s hand. “Kara has been worried about you, so why not make you safer?”

“She’s always worried,” Alex reminds Lena who shrugs, and goes into the details of a really kick ass attachment. Alex is just about to ask how soon she can check out the prototype, when Sam sticks her head out of the balcony door.

“Lena, the Russians are on the line, and-.” Sam stops suddenly when she sees Alex. Her eyes going a little wide. “Oh, hey Alex, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Are they asking about the merger?” Lena questions.

“Yes, and they think you’re going over their heads on the public park.”

“It’s a park. Parks have green space, right Alex?” Alex isn’t sure if she’s actually supposed to answer Lena, so she just kind of nods. She checks her watch, and sees that she should be going anyway.

“I should get back to work,” Alex says, standing up, “Don’t forget about the prototype,” She reminds Lena. “Oh, and be nice to the Russians, if I have to stop a nuke I’m gonna be really pissed off.” Lena waves her off.

As Alex walks past Sam, she gives her a smile. Simple, noncommittal, but nice enough. “I made brownies,” Sam sort of whispers to Alex.

“Brownies?”

“For the meeting tonight. They’re double fudge if...you’re interested.” Sam glances over her shoulder at Lena who obviously can’t hear them, but is studying the interaction through the window anyway.

“Okay.” Alex thinks Sam has a funny way of trying to get her to show up, but she admires the try. She also admires Sam’s sleek black blazer, black pants, and fitted white button up. The heels are a nice touch, and they make Sam’s legs look kind of amazing. Sam waves as Alex leaves, and Alex debates hugging her before she goes. She doesn't.

Jess blushes again, when Alex says bye, and Alex feels a little more confident during the rest of her day at the DEO.

Alex does go to the AA meeting. She surprises herself when she speeds past her apartment, and keeps going until she’s back at that stupid little church. She gives Kara a call and tells her that Xena needs her aunt for a few hours, and the sudden gust of wind she hears over the phone, tells her that Kara is already on her way to Alex’s apartment.

Catherine hugs her when she sees her this time. She says long time no see , but it doesn’t make Alex feel ashamed, just welcome. Sam is setting up the food table as Alex steps further into the room. “You showed.”

“There was food involved.” Alex knows it’s a bit of a push, and Sam knows that too, but she cuts a giant brownie out for Alex and hands it to her anyway.

Alex does actually talk a little this time. Her hands kind of shake when she admits that she is an alcoholic, but she finds her rhythm talking about Kara, and how supportive she was during some of the tougher years. She realizes about halfway through that she isn’t even really talking about herself or alcohol, just that she feels like she doesn’t know how to be the person everyone needs her to be. That really seems to resonate with Sam, because Alex can see the tears welling up in her eyes.

Andre makes a really big deal about a barbecue that he’s hosting the following weekend. It’s open to everyone, and their families, but everyone needs to bring something to the party. Catherine literally shouts “no alcohol though”, and Alex and Sam laugh in unison while they try and find a way to split up the remaining brownies.

Alex has fun, and it makes her feel like actual garbage knowing that she’s going to go home, and have to lie to Kara. Sam must sense Alex’s uneasiness, so when they’re walking to the parking lot, “My kid’s at scout camp this weekend. Do you wanna go get ice cream or something?”

“You’re trying to give me a sugar overdose,” Alex says with a smile. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I know a place.”

“Fine, but I won’t be caught dead in a minivan until I have a kid of my own. You’re coming with me.” Alex reaches into the pack sitting on the back of her bike, and pulls out a helmet.

“You’re kidding.”

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at this.” It isn’t all that convincing considering Sam knows that Alex has driven the bike drunk, but she still reaches out, and takes the helmet anyway. They bundle the brownies, and put them into the bike storage, before they slide on. “You have to actually hold on.” Sam wraps her arms around Alex’s waist, and they head to a dainty little mom and pop ice cream parlor just a few miles away.

Sam gets a vanilla scoop, which Alex almost laughs at until Sam piles on chocolate chips, sprinkles, hot fudge, and strawberry sauce. Alex goes for the chocolate chip cookie dough, and puts on some marshmallows and extra chocolate chips. They find themselves sitting at a booth in the corner of the shop. “So do you want kids?”

“Huh?”

“You said that you wouldn’t be caught dead in a minivan until you had kids. Do you want them?” Sam repeats.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean...yes.” Alex looks down at her spoon. “My ex-fiance didn’t so hence the downward spiral.”

“Why didn’t he want kids?” That almost makes Alex laugh. “He”. She really was going to have to come out to every single person she ever met.

“ She had a rough childhood. Her parents kicked her out because she was gay, and I think...I think she just finally wanted a life for herself.” Alex sounded rehearsed, because she never quite understood Maggie’s reason fully. Sam was proof that a person could be successful and have a kid - apparently be an alcoholic too - all while having a pretty decent life. “I like taking care of people.” Alex eats another bite of ice cream. “Hilarious, I know.”

“It’s actually really...charming.” Sam says with a smile.

“So, what’s the deal with you being all secretive and shit?” Alex asks out of the blue. She knows it’s out of the blue because Sam looks totally baffled when the words leave her mouth. “You keep saying “my kid”. No names.”

“They train you well at the FBI, don’t they?”

“Yep.”

“Well, Ruby is very special to me. I just want to protect her.” Sam says it so directly, that Alex knows that’s all there is to it.

“Is there another parent in the picture?” That’s a sore subject, so Alex goes in to deflect for Sam. “Sorry, that was way too personal.”

“It’s okay. Ruby’s father really hasn’t been a part of my life for awhile now. He never really was,” Sam explains. “Fuck him.” Sam shakes her head at that thought. And Alex knows that feeling. Maybe not exactly, but when she’s not in a full on depression about Maggie, she’s angry at her. “Sorry.”

“Nah, you deserve to have some fire. It suits you.” Sam blushes, and Alex realizes that she really loves making women blush. She never really had the opportunity before, because Maggie was the one making her flustered. But now? New hair, new person, Alex thought.

“Your haircut suits you.”

“Oh yeah? You don’t really know me though.”

“What makes you think that Lena hasn’t told me absolutely everything about you?” Good point. “Not that she has, or actually would.” Better point . “She actually kept me very up to date on her life. I knew about everything and everyone except...you.”

“Funny, I could say the same about you.”

They go on like that for awhile. Sam holding things back, Alex doing the same, but it’s fun. Sam has a great laugh, so Alex lets some of her goofy side show just to hear it some more. They’ve breached casual by the time they’ve finished their ice cream, and on the way back to Alex’s bike, Sam seems to be kind of tiptoeing around something, and Alex starts to get impatient. She climbs onto the bike with Sam close behind her, but she doesn’t give Sam her helmet just yet. “You’ve gotten very quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About…?”

“Your hair.” Sam lets out a breath against Alex’s neck, it sounds like a laugh. “Can I touch your hair?” It comes across playfully, but Alex briefly considers how bad it’ll be for her ego when she melts under Sam’s touch. Which of course she does as soon as Sam’s long fingers trail against her scalp. Luckily Sam is behind her, so she doesn’t notice how fucking embarrassingly touch starved Alex is. “It’s so soft.” Sam runs her fingers through the rest of her hair, as if she’s trying to find an imperfection, some tangled spots, but it’s smooth because Vasquez had insisted on her actually taking care of her hair at least.

“You sound surprised.”

“You put on a tough front, but you’re a softy. I can tell.”

When Alex goes home that night she convinces herself that she’ll actually try and go to another AA meeting that week. Assuming there isn’t a massive alien attack, she doesn’t fold under the pressure of lying to Kara, and game night doesn’t have her favorite whiskey.

For now, Alex can only manage small promises to herself. But it’s something.

Kara had been suspicious of Alex for a week now. Alex figured maybe a week and two days, but Kara usually didn’t sit on things for that long. (Besides not telling the entire world that she’s Supergirl, of course). But this was actually rather surprising. Alex found out that Kara had been asking a few questions behind her back, which didn’t mean much, except Vasquez seemed to think that Kara was worried about Alex’s romantic life.

Apparently, spending more than two days a week having a private life was way too much for Kara to comprehend, so Kara was certain that Alex was dating again. Not to mention the new haircut. All roads pointed to love, and Kara had been scavenging everyone in a desperate attempt at finding out the truth.

Everyone except Alex.

So Alex cornered Kara, and asked her if she wanted to spar, and Kara quickly jumped at the opportunity. When they got into the room, Alex turned on the Kryptonite inhibitors, and they both walked into the ring. Alex thought it was funny that Kara insisted on changing her clothes. Alex reminded her that training is to prepare for the field, and unless Supergirl was going to be running around wearing unicorn leggings and a tank top, Kara should actually keep on her uniform.

Kara ignored her, which Alex probably should’ve expected.

“We haven’t done this in awhile.” Kara says as they start circling each other. That makes Alex feel a little sad. She had been very wrapped up in Maggie, Kara had been wrapped up with Mon-el too, but still. They didn’t get to spend enough time with each other ever. It occurs to Alex as Kara is trying to sweep her legs out from under her, that Kara does actually look older. Saving the world has taken a toll on her, and so has loss. Instead of punching Kara right now, she just wants to hug her, and Kara notices the change in Alex’s demeanor. “What?”

“Nothing, keep going.” Kara’s gotten slower. You would think that after three years of training and fighting and learning, that she would’ve gotten faster or at least more precise. But Alex makes easy work of Kara, flipping her over her shoulders, and hovering over her. Kara was more free years ago. She didn’t have so much strain, all this pressure.

“I’ve noticed that lately your fights have been more rushed. You go for big knockout punches, and that’s it.” Alex helps Kara back up to her feet.

“Less risk that way.”

“Less risk for everyone else maybe, not for you.” Alex stares at Kara for a long moment before looking away. “You’re too afraid to make mistakes.”

“Are you saying I should fail more?”

“Yes, actually.” They start sparring again. Kara acts like she has something to prove, but her kicks are late, and Alex could be doing this with her eyes closed. “Clark’s a perfectionist. You never were, your emotions are what make you stronger.”

“Yes, sensei,” Kara says with a chuckle.

“You’re so weird.”

“Speaking of weird, Lena said that you and Sam were talking.” Kara tries to cover up the obvious prying by throwing an uppercut, but Alex blocks her, and kicks her in the side. “Okay, time out! Ow.” Kara holds her side, and Alex rests her hands on her hips, and laughs.

“Talking? As in saying two words as I was leaving Lena’s office?”

“Kinda. Maybe? She said it was more than two,” Kara looks at Alex pointedly. “She seems nice.”

“Sure.”

“And she’s really...tall?”

“Kara.”

“Yes.” Kara bites her nails, watching as Alex slumps back against the wall. “Sorry, I’m not trying to say anything more. I literally just think that you two could be friends. She’s new here, and Lena says that she’s kinda a museum buff, and you love museums. Plus she’s Lena’s friend, so she’s gotta be awesome, right? And it’s good to have friends, and Lena is sooo busy with work, so if she spends all her time hanging out with Sam, then I’ll like barely see her-”

“Wait, are you seriously trying to force me to be friends with some rando so you can hang out with Lena?” Of course, she was. Because this was Kara, and she had to always find the nicest way to get what she wanted.

“Kinda. I...wait, what did you think I was trying to do? Oh.” Kara frowned. “ Oh. Sorry, Alex, I don’t think Sam’s…”

“I’m heartbroken,” Alex deadpanned. “Why don’t you just, oh I don’t know, talk to Lena. Tell her that you miss hanging out.”

“I don’t want to bother her.”

“She’s your best friend. You can’t bother a best friend, or a sister.” Alex gives Kara a reassuring smile. “I’m here for you too. Whether you wanna spar or talk, don’t be afraid to ask.”

If Alex had actually known that Kara asking her to come over and “hang out” actually meant that they would be repainting her walls and fixing her window, then she would’ve definitely continued her X-Files marathon with Xena. And by they , Alex - of fucking course - means Kara, Lena, and Sam. Thankfully, Alex left Xena with Winn who was apparently building something special that was top secret, but he was very happy to have the company.

Kara threw a tank top at Alex’s face when she walked through the door, and told her to put it on. Lena and Kara were on window duty, which apparently consisted of them creating some kind of DIY stain glass effect, while Sam was taping down painter’s tape around the edges of the wall. This was the first time Alex had seen Sam dressed down, and her light grey joggers and black t-shirt made her look like some kind of dressed down gymnast, while Alex was sure that she looked like someone who was ready to fall asleep on a couch. Which was what she was planning on doing an hour ago.

Alex yanked off her shirt, and threw on the tank-top that Kara had given her. When she approached Sam, she had a sort of half smile emerging, and Alex thought it was really a good look for her. Alex peered down at the paint, and saw that Kara was going with a pastel yellow, and before Alex could say a thing, “It’s so the sun will reflect off it, and make the room really bright.”

“I figured.” Alex helped Sam climb onto a ladder, so that she could finish protecting the ceiling. It baffled her, how easily Kara could get people to do anything. Lena was obviously in love with Kara and Alex was forced to love her out of sisterly obligation, but what the hell was Sam’s excuse? Sam didn’t even know her, and here she was painting her walls. Didn’t she have a kid? Alex wondered what Ruby thought of all this.

“She’s really adventurous. She wants to try everything and right now it’s Girl Scouts. They are rushing to get their badges now because they want to outsell this other troop later in the year. Their leaders really discourage parents from being overbearing, which is something I’m actually trying to adhere to. I pick her up tomorrow morning at Three Rivers.” Sam starts pouring the paint into the paint tray, and grabbing a roller. She pushes another roller into Alex’s hands, “I’m not doing all this alone.”

“How did you know…?”

“People have always given me that look. They either think I’ve ruined my life by having a kid or that I’m ruining my kids life by having a life of my own.”

“I don’t think that.” Alex immediately regrets starting at the center of the wall because she knows that the corners are gonna be a pain in the ass later. “I admire the things you do. I’m sure Ruby does too.” Alex knows what it’s like to be judged, and she certainly won’t put Sam through that. “I don’t do free labor by the way, Kara.”

Kara gasps dramatically, and she and Lena say in unison we know . Kara assures Alex that there will be food, and lots of it in a few minutes. “Better be.”

“For two people who are so obsessed with food, you wouldn’t know it by looking at you.” Sam says making a point by nodding at Alex and Kara’s arms. “What regiment are you on? Steroids?”

“Boxing. And kickboxing. All kinds of boxing really.” Alex honestly hates having to listen to Kara lie because she’s so terrible at it.

“Is that how you hurt your arm?” Sam asks, looking at the fading scar on Alex’s forearm.

“Something like that.” Sam’s comfortable enough to just let it go. “What about you? I mean, I know Lena gets her exercise by metaphorically curb stomping men, but what do you do?” Lena lets out a “hey!” from across the room, but Alex ignores her.

“I do yoga with my daughter in the morning sometimes. I go on the occasional run too.” Sam shrugs a little, like she’s embarrassed to be put on the spot.

“Well, it seems to be working for you,” Alex says, and she can hear Lena shushing Kara so she can listen in. Alex likes the distance between them though, and she likes the way Sam pushes her hair back behind her ear. She is undoubtedly attracted to Sam, but she knew that the moment she saw her, now it’s just a matter of quelling that attraction for the sake of her own sanity.

For starters, Sam is really not interested in Alex. She knows this because Sam obviously thinks ( knows ) that Alex is a mess. She also knows this because Sam knows about all the baggage that’s weighing Alex down, and Alex could never imagine a reality where that would be attractive to anyone. Alex also suspects that Sam said something to Lena who then said something to Kara, and that was why Kara seemed rather certain about Sam’s sexuality.

Alex shouldn’t even be thinking about this. She supposed to be painting. “Thanks.” Alex finally hears Kara and Lena getting into their usual scream fests over whatever hot journalism topic is relevant this week, and they’re far enough away to not listen in. Alex chances a glance over at Sam, who glances back with a smile. “You’re staring.” Sam whispers.

“I’m thinking about Andre.”

“Ooooh, he’s like seventy. Kinky.” Alex nudges Sam’s side.

“I meant...the barbecue. I might go.” Alex looks over at Sam hopefully, “Now’s the time that you say that you might go too.”

“I am going. Ruby and I made these cheesy potatoes that will probably give everyone a heart attack.”

“You’re bringing your kid? I mean...she knows that you’re…”

“Yeah,” Sam seems very content with that fact. “I like being honest with her. I need to be.” Alex knows that Sam isn’t judging her, but with Kara and Lena in the room, Alex considers how easy it would be just to have some honesty for a change. “You should come, but you have to bring something, or Andre will do that thing with his face.” Alex has only been to six meetings and she knows exactly what Sam is talking about. “Do you know where his house is?”

“I still don’t really get this AA thing. I mean, shouldn’t we be not fraternizing.”

“What’s the point if you’re alone in the fight?” Sam says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “This is different, but I love it. Sometimes we have to be reminded that we’re people, don’t you think? It’s better than being alone ‘cause that’s pretty much what got me in trouble in the first place.” Sam eyeballs her work, before asking to switch angles with Alex. “Give me your number.”

“Okay. Why?”

“So I can text you Andre’s address.” Alex immediately starts regretting the choice to give Sam her number, when she reconsiders the fact that she used to have a very bad habit of drunk dialing people. And it’s not like she was sober queen of the world, she just hadn’t had a drink in three days, and she was pretty certain that wouldn’t last because she knew that Maggie’s birthday was coming up, and they had this whole trip planned to go to Niagara Falls.

The food arrives, and Alex has to remind Kara - twice - that there are other people here who might actually want to eat too. Alex and Sam sit on the couch while Kara and Lena throw pillows on the floor, and half lay down. Halfway through another one of Lena’s work stories, Sam’s feet end up on Alex’s lap. She gives her a look that asks “is this okay?” and Alex nods because Sam is warm, and she looks comfortable, and she doesn’t want to make a big deal about anything.

Kara can’t resist the urge to make everyone uncomfortable so she ends up making a comment about how cute Sam and Alex look sitting there with paint all over themselves.

When they’re leaving Sam is the one that gives everyone hugs. She hangs on to Alex for a second longer just to say, “I’ll text you”, and of course Kara cocks her head to the side because she would be using her super hearing. Alex doesn’t have the energy to make up an excuse, so she just lets Kara make fun of her while they’re cleaning up the mess they made.

Driving home feels very freeing, but cold. Alex misses having someone to come home to. She misses warmth during the night. And as she’s falling asleep, Alex thinks about the barbecue, and Sam. She imagines that Sam will hug her, and she will be content, and Alex will finally be warm again.

Alex wakes up at four in the morning. She doesn’t mean to, but it gives her exactly seven hours to figure out what she’s going to bring to the barbecue. Alex isn’t used to bringing anything but booze to a party, so she wants this to actually be good. She doesn’t know how to bake, but she does know how to look on the internet, and pretend like she has some idea about what to do. She tries, and fails miserably.

It’s now six in the morning.

She could just grab something from the store, but for some reason she has some serious motivation this morning, and isn’t ready to give up. Alex calls Lena and isn’t surprised that she’s up, but is surprised that Lena offers to come over and help. Lena tells Alex that they’re going to make a pie, and as they set out the ingredients, Alex is certain that this is going to fail too. “I do know how to cook, in case you were wondering. I spent like half of my youth watching the Food Network .” And she’s right. Alex does all the easy stuff like cut apples and heat up the oven. Lena makes the crust, and a lattice top with practiced ease.

“Why are you making a pie?” Lena says it like the thought only occurred to her now, and Alex is comforted by the fact that Lena considers her such a good friend that she didn’t even question Alex’s motives before.

“If I told you then you’d have to lie to Kara.” Alex watches Lena’s face fall. “Exactly.”

“I can, you know. I just don’t like to.” Lena sticks the pie in the oven, and crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you in grave danger?”

“Grave danger that involves pie?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“No.” Alex begins making a pot of coffee, while Lena sits on the counter. “And I will tell Kara eventually, so please don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

Lena will worry, and eventually being the cause of that will force Alex to admit what’s been going on. But for now, Alex is perfectly happy listening to music, and hearing Lena talk shit about how James buys all his shirts one size too small so that he’ll look as strong as Superman. They get a bit lost in talking about their relationship insecurities, and Alex has to hold back on her advice because she knows she’s bound to tell Lena that she and Kara are perfect for each other. When the pie is finally done, Alex says that she just needs to change her clothes really quick, but Lena is welcome to go through her stuff, and find an embarrassing picture of Kara or something.

When Alex reemerges from her room, Lena is flailing around on a stool, laughing, and trying not to shoot her coffee out of her nose. Alex walks over and sees that Lena has found a picture of Alex at prom. With a boy. In between giggles, Lena slides Alex’s phone towards her, and says that she got a text.

It’s from Sam, and Alex suspects that Lena already knows that.

[SAM]: Let me know when you get here, I have like 30 things to warn you about before you actually come inside

Alex is both disturbed and intrigued, but she mostly just wonders why Sam is there so damn early. Lena is chugging water, and complaining about how she laughed so hard that no oxygen got to her head for like five minutes. “A brain dead CEO, like we don’t have enough leaders like that as it is,” Alex mumbles. That throws Lena into another fit of laughter, which gives Alex enough time to respond to Sam.

[ALEX]: Why are you there early? I know Andre is basically our leader, but do we get extra sobriety coins if we show up early?

[SAM]: I hope so, otherwise I’m totally wasting my time.

[SAM]: I’ll see you soon? Drive safe.

Alex smiles a little at her phone, and Lena clears her throat loudly, before standing, taking a bow and heading for the door. “My secret pie making mission is done. I’ll see you tomorrow at game night?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll see you then.”

“It’s at my house.” Lena looks very proud saying it. Alex is happy she took her advice. “Don’t be late.” As Lena leaves, and Alex begins packing up the pie to take to a fucking AA barbecue, Alex thinks that this is as weird as her life has ever been.

And she really really likes it.

And if you enjoyed reading or re-reading, here’s my Kofi

[pinkletterday]

Prelude: Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

Pairing: Barry Allen/ Iris West

Rating: All Audiences

Summary: “Aw hell, no!” says Linda. “Iris, you’ve been planning yourself this big white wedding for weeks. This is your dream, you guys. If you give up now, the Nazis win. We can’t let them win, yo. You gotta have your wedding. For truth, justice and the American way!” 

Tags: Iris West goes wedding dress shopping with her girls, Sara Lance is the Westallen fairygodmother, the wedding my babies deserved, apologies for the lack of Felicity, author was really mad at the time

Notes: Am I procrastinating life by posting old fics on tumblr? Why yes I am. 

This was my oldest fic for this fandom and my first in ten years. 

Part 1 of the Westallen Wedding Album

It is seven in the morning and someone is ringing the doorbell. The universe really does hate them. Iris is too demoralized to care at this point.

“Go away,” calls Barry from under the covers, clutching Iris like a security blanket.

“It’s me, Caitlin. It’s urgent, open up!”

This is why they can’t ever turn their phones off. Et tu, Cait?

They shuffle fatalistically to the door in their pyjamas to let her in and Caitlin looks apologetically at the sleep-rumpled duo. “I’m sorry, guys, but they insisted.”

“Who -”

Sara bursts into the loft. “All right, everyone get dressed. Wedding’s back on, bitches!” she hollers, in full captain mode, as Catilin grimaces away. “The time is oh seven hundred hours and we have fuckton of work to do so. Ass in gear, folks!”

Barry and Iris blink at her like injured meerkats. “...What?” They notice a flustered Cecile trailing in after Sara, followed by an offensively bright-eyed and bushy tailed Kara, and… “Linda?”

“What up, girl,” greets Linda Park, hugging a stunned Iris. She appears to have a distinctly fresh-from-airport-hell brand of dishevelment and the vibrating energy of a sports writer on Redbull.

“How are you here?" asks Barry in confusion. "You said in your RSVP that you’d be at your family thing in Oklahoma-,”

“Yeah so I did and I was and then I got a hysterical call from the kidterns at CCPN that your wedding had been bombed by Nazis. Followed by news footage of Central City being attacked by actual, honest-to-God Nazis and then beaten back by a mess of leather fetish-types...you get the idea. In conclusion: Nazis. Seriously, guys, what the hell!” Linda throws her hands up at them with a bewildered expression.

Barry slumps onto the couch with a groan and Iris drops wearily beside him, making a helpless gesture that is somehow supposed to convey “we couldn’t tell you if we knew/ the universe hates us/ it is written/ this is our life now". They lean against each other like sad puppies.

“Anyway, the point is, you guys are getting married today. Properly.” presses Sara.

“Can’t,” grunts Barry.

“What d’you mean, can’t?”

“Lost all our deposits. Tux ruined. Guests flew home after martial law was declared. Fire. Murder. Plague.”

“My dress survived but I frankly don’t even want to see it again,” says Iris sadly. “That thing cost five thousand dollars and now all I remember when I see it is our minister getting vaporized. Oh God.” She hides her face in Barry’s shoulder, stifling a sob, as he puts a comforting arm around her.

“Ok, yes, we figured,” interjects Kara, advancing with a "hear-me-out" demeanor. “But guys. This is all fixable! And we’re gonna fix it! You still want to get married, right?” She looked expectantly at them, a golden retreiver puppy convinced of the world's innate goodness.

“Well yeah,” says Barry, scratching his head. “But Iris and I are just thinking to going to a Justice of Peace-”

“Aw hell, no!” cries Linda, making Barry jump. Redbull and sports are just not a good combination for this early in the morning. “Iris, you’ve been planning yourself this big white wedding for weeks. This is your dream, you guys. If you give up now, the Nazis win. We can’t let them win, yo. You gotta have your wedding. For truth, justice and the American way!”

The other women all nod, appearing to agree on the connection between propping up the wedding industry and patriotism. “She’s right,” says Caitlin the Betrayer, staunchly.

“And exactly how are we supposed to do that?” asks Iris with some asperity. She doesn’t particularly care about truth or justice or whatever the American way is supposed to be right now, unless the American way involves a bubble bath with Barry, sex and some post-coital Netflix.

“You leave that to us,” says Cecile firmly, sitting herself next to Iris. She takes her hand with a maternal air. “Iris, you and Barry aren’t alone in any of this. You have your family. Your friends. We have resources. Let us do this for you.”

“Cecile, that’s really sweet, believe me, but we’re just too tired-”

“That’s why you don’t have to lift a finger,” says Linda determinedly. “Except to put a ring on it. Look, I used to work part time as a wedding co-ordinator in college. I still have contacts. Just give me and Cecile your wedding binder and go find a dress. We can throw you the shindig of your dreams and get you married off before tomorrow morning.”

There is a chorus of "yeahs!" and "all rights!" and even a "whoo!" from Caitlin, who immediately looks embarrassed and subsides mid hand-pump.

“Where do I find a dress to get married in this evening?” says Iris hopelessly.

Sara smirks. “Did you know the Waverider has a fabrication room?”

“What’s a fabrication room?” asks Barry, Iris and Caitlin

“What’s a Waverider?” asks Linda and Cecile.

Sara grins smugly at Iris. “Just call me your fairy godmother, Cinderella.”

___

“I’m in a timeship,” Iris hears Linda say aloud to herself for the umpteenth time. “A timeship with a giant dress up room. With superheroes. Shopping for bridal gowns. For the Flash’s fiancee.”

Iris is the dressing cubicle and can't see anyone, but can picture Linda swigging her third glass of champagne, fluffing the white feather boa she had wound around her shoulders. She had decided that she didn't feel right drinking champagne in a fancy dressing room without a wearing one.

“Linda, honey, you’ve been saying that since we got here,” sighs Cecile, relegated to sparkling grape juice, but seated comfortably on the Persian rug. “It’s not really helping.”

They are in the Waverider's fabrication room, which Gideon had science babbled at them about reconstructing garments and accessories via subatomic teleportation and reassembly, and what Sara had simply described as "the Waverider communal closet". Except the "communal" part being all of time and history, apparently. It honestly just looks like a hi-tech walk-in closet from Dr. Who, only with outfits atomizing into being inside a cubicle once its design is selected from a 3D holographic projection.

"Anyone want more cake?” Ray Palmer, ex-billionaire and apparently current time traveller, calls out sunnily.

“Ooh, me me me!” says Kara enthusiastically from where she has been vamping in a crinoline in front of the mirror. “Oh my God, Ray, is that whipped cream frosting? And these strawberries taste so real!"

"The Waverider molecularly restructures any food stuffs we want," Ray says in proud tones. "Although, I usually prefer to get the raw ingredients and make recipes by hand. The champagne is all Gideon's work, though."

"That’s so cool, Gideon!" enthuses Kara.

“Thank you Miss Zor-El,” Gideon's disembodied voice resounds around the room. “This is high praise coming from a race as advanced as the Kryptonians.”

“You’re welcome and thank you!” Kara says happily. “My ship has an A.I but it has my mother’s personality imprint, so it can be kind of a bummer sometimes. Allura definitely hasn’t made me alcohol,” then mutters more quietly, “despite trying to drive me to it.”

“Wait, you have a ship too?” Cecile and Caitlin chorus in surprise.

“What’s a Kryptonian?” wonders Linda.

“Yeah, I have a ship. It’s how I got to earth. Krypton is my home planet,” Kara explains casually. Cecile and Linda are obviously still bemused. “I’m an alien,” Kara clarifies.

There is a stunned silence.

“I’m in a talking timeship,” intones Linda, swigging her drink, “with an alien. Eating cake. Shopping for dresses for-” she’s cut off when Iris throws a cloud of tulle on her head.

“Knock it off, Park,” Iris says, stepping out of the dressing room. “How do I look?” she smoothes down the sugar white confection expectantly, which somehow manages to be both creamy and frothy.

There is some diplomatic hemming and hawwing from the crowd. “Well, it’s a bit…,” Caitlin hesitates and pulls at the back of the synthetic white sheathe.

“Like someone dipped you in a vat of Ray’s frosting,” says Sara bluntly, looking up at her upside down from where she's sprawled on the floor. “And before that you looked like something from a Lady Gaga music video. Really, Iris, are you even taking this seriously?”

“I thought it was funny!” protests Iris, returning to searching through the ship’s dress archive on the holographic display. “What about the one before that?”

“You looked like Queen Elizabeth,” says Linda, flatly. “Present day Queen Elizabeth. What was with the hat?”

“Wow, tough crowd," Iris tries to laugh it off only to be met with skeptical stares. She sags.

“I just. It feels like tempting fate again, you know?” she says quietly. “Ever since I was a kid, I really wanted to dress like a princess at my wedding and it almost came true...three times. I just feel like the minute I put on a wedding dress again, I’m going to bring giant killer robots down on us, or one of us is going to get kidnapped by an evil megalomaniac and replaced by a frog-eating clone-”

“What’d you mean frog-eating clones?” interjects Linda in panic, clutching her boa. “Oh my God, is that an actual thing too?”

“Probably,” says Sara with supreme unconcern from the floor. She pulls herself upright and looks at Iris seriously in the eyes. “Look, I understand what you’re saying. You don’t have to wear a wedding dress if you don’t want to. You can wear a pantsuit or a gunny sack and none of us will care.

But I think you really do want that princess dress. This is all about saving your dream. You can’t let fear make you make decisions that you’ll regret down the line.” There is a murmur of sympathy and assent from the others.

“You only get married once,” says Caitlin, looking at Iris with a deep understanding.

“Well, I mean, actually-,” Linda starts, but is cut off by Cecile who sternly takes her champagne glass away.

"I mean you will only marry your soulmate once,” says Caitlin, looking at Iris steadily. “He’s the love of your life, Iris. You’re not going to lose him. We won’t let you. I promise.” Iris thinks she sees Caitlin’s eyes flash silver.

A solemnity descends on the group. Iris pulls Caitlin into a hug, feeling touched and grateful.

“You know, you could settle for a middle ground,” pipes up the ubiquitous Ray, making everyone start because they had forgotten he was there. “Personally, I think you’d be able to carry off a Galia Lahav like nobody’s business, but if you wanted something a little more classic, a little less elaborate, you could look to something boho like Ru De Seine or vintage feel like Amanda Garrett. Her beading is amazing. I’ve always thought ivory lace is really the thing for a fall wedding myself. Oh! And A-lines are so under-appreciated. You can always get them to flare out almost as well as a ballgown.”

There is a silence as everyone stares at Ray.

“What?” he says uncertainly. “Mick and I watch Say Yes To The Dress.”

A collective “ooh” of understanding ripples through the ladies and they turn back to Iris. “I hate that you all just came to the most obvious conclusion right now,” mutters Sara, chewing bitterly on a strawberry.

“Ray’s right,” says Kara, elbowing in front of the display screen and rifling through the database. “There’s more than one way to look like a princess. You might not be comfortable going for the full Cinderella anymore, but there’s Rapunzel and Snow White or even Greek-style like Megara-”

“Who?”

“Hercules’ girlfriend. I never understood why that movie flopped, my cousin loves it.”

"Oh, hey, me too!" exclaims Ray.

In the end, after a heated debate about Disney between Kara and Ray, a decimated whipped cream cake and a large pile of discarded lace, tulle and chiffon, Iris finds the perfect fit. It's an ivory A-line overlaid in lace. The assymetrical drop waist flares to the ground in a fall of tulle, the deep sweetheart neckline, ruched bodice and delicate cap sleeves covered in exquisite crystal beading. It's sweet and summery and simple. Safe. It makes her feel right.

There is a hush of approval, broken by Sara’s irreverent wolf-whistle.

"I would call that a Snow White look," pronounced Kara.

“Nice one, West,” Linda concurs as Cecile coos over it and Caitlin inspects the beading.

“By the way, Iris, Barry called,” informs Caitlin, as she pulls on Iris' skirts. “He said to tell you he’s decided to include Harry and Wally in the bridal party this time around, and I quote, “Tag, you’re it!”

“It? What are you?” asks Linda in confusion.

“Down three bridesmaids, that’s what I am!" huffs Iris, hands on her hips. She surveys her current retinue. “Okay, then. Sara, Kara, Linda, you’re up!”

The three women’s heads jerk up at Iris’ authoritative tone. “Up for what?”

“You’re in my bridal party now. Best find dresses!” grins Iris, “That’s what happens when you save a girl’s planet and her wedding. I mean,”  she suddenly feels a little uncertain, “if you are up for it?”

In answer, Kara, Linda and Sara cheer and surround Iris, pulling her into a group hug, while Caitlin and Cecile raise their glasses at her proudly.

____

Iris doesn’t see them again for hours after sorting out the bridal wear, being summarily banished to her father’s house. She would have preferred to go home but found that her fiancé had banned her from the premises. Iris objects.

“Are we doing the groom not seeing the bride before the ceremony thing again? Because a lot of good that did us last time,” Iris huffs into the phone, going downstairs to intrepidly investigate the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen.

“No, I just don’t want you here cause I’m working on a wedding gift for you,” says Barry, over a mysterious banging of pots and pans. “And you may not crack a joke about my family jewels.”

“I would never joke about those, Barry,” says Iris seriously. "Your family jewels are very important to me." She hears the distinctive ding of- “wait, are you baking?”

“...damn it.”

“Bartholomew! Are you baking brownies in our apartment on our wedding day without me?” exclaims Iris in indignation.

“How do you know they’re brownies?” Barry hedges in his damage control voice.

“'Cause you banned me from the loft! I know you, you duplicitous, conniving-,”

“Look, we both know you are fundamentally untrustworthy around things with chocolate in them,” says Barry firmly. “You’re like the Leonard Snart of baked goods.”

“But why can’t I have brownies on my wedding day?” Iris whines. She nearly collides with her father, who is bustling about the kitchen in an apron.

“You can,” says Barry patiently. “It’s for the wedding.”

“I thought Oliver was taking care of the catering?” says Iris, confused.

“Yes, he’s footing the bill for the entire thing, so I told him to keep it simple and homely. He feels really bad about what happened to us.”

“Why?” Iris shrugs, “He didn’t crash our wedding.”

“He’s a rich kid, they throw money at people’s problems until they feel better,” snarks Barry and Iris giggles. “So I heard your Dad and Clarissa and some others are making it a kind of potluck, as much to reign Oliver in as anything, and...I wanted you to have your mother’s brownies on your special day.”

Iris melts. “Awww, babe. That is so sweet. And frustrating. Now I don’t know who I want to eat more," she purrs seductively, "you or the brownies.”

“You do know I can hear you, right?” Joe pops up from behind the kitchen counter with an unimpressed expression, making Iris jump.

“Er, yeah okay. So," Iris awkwardly skitters around, to notice - "Hey, is that why Dad’s making Grandma Esther’s sweet potato pie?” She starts to break off a bit of crust, only to be whacked decisively on the knuckles with a spoon. “OW!”

“Those are for the guests this evening, missy!” reprimands Joe, “Out of my kitchen! Git!”

“But it’s my wedding!” Iris wails fruitlessly into the phone as her father chases her out of the room with a spatula.

____

In the afternoon, Iris gets dressed in her new wedding gown, ignoring the flutter of trepidation she feels as Caitlin buttons her up. Cecile and Linda sweep her hair into a high messy bun that lets soft curls spill around her face and neck, pinning a single full-blown crimson rose on the side of her head right above the cascade of her grandmother’s veil.

She wears her great-grandma Esther’s pearl earrings and her mother’s replica wedding bands on a gold chain that Barry had given her (so very long ago now and not long ago at all) around her neck. Cecile kisses her cheek and fastens her little turquoise bracelet around Iris’ wrist “for something both borrowed and blue”. She laughs as she slips her feet into the pair of transparent “glass” heels that Kara had found for her.

Her bridesmaids are in dusty rose gowns gathered at the waist, with skirts that swish playfully around their calves. Delicate aster and camellia flower crowns nestle on their loose waves of hair and they all carry small posies of riotously colourful wildflowers that speak of the fall.

Barry is waiting with his groomsmen downstairs as they descend. Wally, Cisco, Harry and Oliver are in sport coats with matching autumn boutonnieres. Barry has also ditched the tux in favour of a grey suit with a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and is holding her bouquet of crimson and spray roses. He looked so very dashing in his tux, but Iris is glad that he looks more casual today, slightly mussed, more her geeky, pretty, boyish Barry.

He does not look at her as though he would cry, as he had the first time she had walked down the aisle to him. Instead his expression is open and soft, steady, like he knows how afraid she is and he is right there with her, waiting to catch her and keep her safe. It’s a look that makes her feel like he’s holding her in his arms from across a room.

Iris’ father carefully pulls her into a hug, engulfing her one last time in his solid, reassuring warmth and Dad-scent before he takes her hand and puts it in Barry’s. It’s an acknowledgement of putting something where it has always belonged, rather than entrusting it all over again to another. Iris is fleetingly amused by the thought that Joe may have accepted Barry as her son-in-law when they were first married by a giant dinosaur at the age of ten.

Barry gives her her bouquet and pulls her to him, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she smiles. "I see you got my present." She fingers the small gold bolts of lightning on his shirt cuffs.  

"I did," Barry says with a pleased grin. "They're awesome. Thanks, honey. But I think I still win with the brownies."

"Damn it, you're right," grumbles Iris. "Why are you so competitive all the time?"

Barry gives her a sardonic look and draws her into his arms as she giggles. His expression turns reverent as he gazes down at her.

“God, you're beautiful,” he breathes, looking at her like he can't believe she's real. Iris feels cocooned in happiness. “How do you make me want you more every day?”

She focuses on pinning a crimson rose next to his lapel and blinks back tears. “I bet you say that to all the girls you marry,” Iris quips.

“Yes,” he teases back, “since you are all the girls I’m ever going to marry.”

Iris laughs, and smooths his coat. “So, want to give this thing one last try, Mr. Allen?”

Barry's eyes are resolute and tender. “I’ll never stop trying until you’re mine, Miss West.”

She presses the rose stem against his heart, and his hand covers hers over it. They follow their wedding party and walk out of their childhood home, hand in hand.

~~~~

[yannasunflower]

Concrete Flower ~ Chapter 3 Pairing: ItaSaku what am i supposed to grow into?

Chapter 2 | ffnet

Sakura wasn’t quite sure what had happened, or how it had, but somehow in the two weeks since classes had started, Deidara had not only figured out where she lived, he’d taken to “dropping by”. It wasn’t all bad, considering he usually brought food or sweets with him, and once even alcohol, and he’d given Ino such invaluable hair maintenance advice, the blonde swore she was forever in his debt. Dramatic as ever. So, when their doorbell rang on a quiet Saturday afternoon, then, she was not at all surprised. Really, she was just relieved her and Ino were diligent about locking the door so the manic blonde didn’t have a chance to just barge in whenever he liked. Which, if she knew her art tutor at all, was something he would definitely do. On a daily basis. She didn’t quite understand just why he’d taken such a liking to her; she had minimal artistic talents and she wasn’t a supremely interesting person to begin with. She could imagine someone with his energy growing attached to someone more like Ino, but not her. Sakura sighed as the doorbell rang again, followed by insistent banging on her door. She knew from experience that in thirty seconds he would start blowing up her phone. Resigned, she slipped her feet into her slippers before shuffling to the door. Ino poked her head out of her bedroom door, face covered in a blue mask and perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed.

“What does he want now?” she asked incredulously. Ino had taken the continual assault of his presence on their apartment pretty well, all things considered. Better than Sakura, anyway, who now met him with a certain degree of annoyance whenever he rang their doorbell.

Sakura shrugged somewhat helplessly before unlocking their door and opening it slowly. Ino disappeared into the bathroom to clean her face of the mask. Sakura faced the opening door, sighing as she prepared herself for Deidara’s characteristic exuberance. The sun had almost set so the light didn’t blind her so much as the sight waiting for her surprised her.

“Uh,” she said stupidly, not prepared to be faced with not only Deidara’s brilliant smile but also Kisame’s huge frame when she opened her door. Grocery bags dangled from Kisame’s forearms and he smiled at her with pointed teeth. They were both dressed casually, jeans and t-shirts, Deidara holding a jacket slung over his arm. While Kisame looked about the same as usual, Deidara’s silky blonde hair – that he kept perfectly maintained, as Sakura had learned during one of his many lectures – was perfectly styled as to appear not styled at all, thrown up into a ponytail with a few strands falling to frame his angular face. He was the only man Sakura had ever known who sported eyeliner daily and his eyes were rimmed with it now, making the blue of them even brighter. The cheery smile on his face did not waver at her less than enthusiastic greeting. She blinked at them slowly, unable to completely process the image after spending hours scrutinizing Tsunade’s textbook. Kisame had never come with Deidara on one of his numerous visits; none of their other friends had come, actually.

“Hey Pinkie,” Kisame greeted jovially, like this wasn’t an awkward situation and Sakura wasn’t dressed in boxers, a huge neon yellow t-shirt from high school, and her fluffy white cat slippers. Basically pajamas at almost five in the afternoon. She ignored the stupid nickname as she realized just what she looked like. A mess. Her hair was a disaster, tied hastily back into a loose bun that was now falling apart. She couldn’t remember exactly if she had even brushed it today and she was keenly aware of the fact she hadn’t yet showered and her legs were prickly with hair.

“Hello?” she asked more than said. She automatically opened the door wider, allowing them to traipse on in, Deidara immediately flinging himself onto the couch and Kisame setting the groceries down on the counter. Why did he keep buying them groceries? What was all of it for? Could she even fit it all in her kitchen?

“I’m making dinner, remember?” Kisame said, raising an eyebrow. Sakura stared at him blankly because no, she did not remember making any such plans considering she’d hardly talked to Kisame since the karaoke bar, only running into him a couple times on campus. She didn’t even have his number. He frowned as the silence stretched on and she remained dumbfounded, suddenly whirling to face Deidara, who was smirking on the couch. Kisame pointed an accusing finger at the blonde.

“You didn’t tell her?” he nearly roared, looking completely unsurprised.

“Oops, slipped my mind,” Deidara responded breezily. “I also forgot to tell you Itachi, Baby Sasuke, and the blond moron are coming too. Oh, and Sasori said he could swing by as well.”

Sakura blinked. “There are some that would argue you’re the blond moron,” she pointed out dully when she could form words. She derived perhaps too much pleasure from Deidara’s indignant sputters, Kisame howling with laughter.

“Kisame is making dinner?” Ino chimed in, finally making her appearance, face clean of any mud mask. She was at least a little more presentable than Sakura, dressed in black leggings and a loose t-shirt. Her smooth hair was pulled tightly into a ponytail and she frowned at the groceries inquisitively. “What’s the dish, chef?” she asked, completely ignoring the fact no one had even asked either of their permission to plan a dinner party in their apartment.

“Nothin’ too fancy, curry and rice,” Kisame said. Ino smiled, pleased. She padded over to take a seat next to the other blond, tucking her feet underneath her knees. “Deidara insisted we bring dessert too, so we brought stuff to make cookies with.”

Sakura arched an eyebrow at Deidara, who shrank a little under her gaze. “And we brought ice cream,” he offered in a small voice. Sakura narrowed her eyes.

“What kind?”

“Strawberry.”

She stared at him for a few minutes more before relaxing, smiling a little bit to show she’d forgiven him. “What time is this supposed to start?” she finally thought to ask, suddenly reminded of her deplorable attire. Really, was she going to have to start looking presentable all the time now? Where exactly did Deidara live that he could drop by so much? It dawned on her that she had completely disregarded the fact that Itachi was coming over, as well as the complete yet frequently mentioned stranger Sasori. He was apparently a business major and also worked for a big security company as an intern. Sakura had yet to meet him but knew that he and Deidara had been friends from middle school before they met Kisame and Itachi in high school. She almost felt like she did know him from how much Deidara mentioned him but he’d never met her and thus, she felt like she should probably change. And maybe shower.

“I told them to come in about an hour, so we have about thirty minutes until Itachi shows up. He’s annoyingly early, always,” Deidara answered with a lazy roll of his eyes. Ino played on her phone next to him, but Sakura could see her ears metaphorically perking up at the mention of the older Uchiha brother. She wondered if Ino’s unrequited crush on Sasuke from their early middle school years had anything to do with her fascination. Or if it was solely because of his interactions with Sakura. He’d kept his word and showed up at Art Club yet again that week and Ino had been positively gleeful, despite the fact nothing of importance had happened between them. Sakura nearly regretted telling her.

Kisame snickered. “You’re just mad because you’re late to literally everything,” the blue-skinned man pointed out. Deidara stuck his tongue out at him, pulling his phone out as it chimed.

“I wasn’t late to this,” he retorted. His brightened at whatever he read on the screen and he began rapidly typing a response.

“You made me wait for you for fifteen minutes,” Kisame deadpanned and Sakura laughed. Deidara stuck his tongue out again and went back to focusing on his phone.

Sakura stretched her arms over her head. “Well, in that case I’m going to shower and get dressed,” she informed them. Ino’s “good idea” was followed by Kisame’s insistence she looked fine and Deidara’s even more persistent response to the negative.

Sakura left them to debate her appearance, hopping in the shower where she let the hot water wash away her anxiety for the evening. She hadn’t been prepared to host a sudden dinner party. She didn’t know Sasori, barely knew Itachi, and Naruto ate enough for three people on a daily basis so she was worried they wouldn’t have enough food. Also, why couldn’t she make any girl friends? Her and Ino were surrounded by boys who were beginning to make themselves at home in their apartment and lives. Sakura just doubted a girl friend would be quite as tactless as the boys she interacted with daily. And she probably wouldn’t eat all their food. Yes, Sakura was really beginning to like the idea of her imaginary female friend.

She stepped out of the shower fifteen minutes later, letting her hair down so she could brush it out. She wrapped a towel around her before she hurried to her room. Using Ino’s clothes as a guide, she threw on her own pair of leggings and a large grey shirt with the black design of a cat on it that hung off one shoulder. Her sports bra could be seen but she didn’t really care; it wasn’t like Sasuke was going to ogle her throughout dinner, after all. Or his attractive older brother for that matter.

She tied her long hair back into a much more neat ponytail before rejoining her friends in her living room. Ino was directing Kisame to the pots and pans he needed and Deidara had already dug into the ice cream, spoon still in his mouth as he texted someone.

“You’ll ruin your appetite,” Sakura chided as she grabbed her own spoon and took a seat in front of him, scooping a giant chunk of it. “How long until dinner?” she asked around her mouthful.

“About half an hour,” Kisame answered. Ino offered up water; it was really the only beverage they had since they had polished off the sake that week, and Deidara shook his head at it.

“Itachi will be bringing drinks,” he informed them.

Sakura frowned. “If you guys had bothered to tell us about this dinner, we could’ve bought some things,” she said huffily. She felt bad they were basically paying for an entire dinner for seven people. And also cooking it. Ino nodded along emphatically to her words, glaring remorsefully at the blond lounging on their couch. Deidara chuckled, patting Sakura’s head.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” he reassured her. “You’re first years and probably broke; if we didn’t feed you, you’d almost starve to death. Just wait until final exams roll around, you’ll think of us as godsends.”

“Or at the very least, nice people,” Kisame amended for him. Ino huffed with laughter at the torn expression of betrayal on Deidara’s face at his friend’s decidedly less dramatic version. “Really, we just wanted to cook something, and neither of our apartments are viable options considering none of us can clean for shit, so yours was the only option.”

Sakura was surprised; she had imagined Itachi as a rather neat person. It was hard to reconcile that image with a messy room belonging to him.

Kisame continued, waving a wooden spoon in the air she didn’t even know they owned as he did so. “Itachi is a neat enough person on his own, his room is spotless, but I’m a fucking mess and neither of us have time to clean our disaster of a kitchen. And both Sasori and Deidara are complete slobs so there’s no hope there either.”

“You’re all paired off?” Ino asked, handing Kisame an apron, the only one they owned. A frilly pink one with white bunnies all over it that he put on without so much as a blush, tying it back nonchalantly and grinning his thanks to her. It looked absolutely comical on his huge, buff frame and Sakura had to keep from choking on her ice cream at the sight of it. She grabbed her phone to snap a picture, swallowing her mouthful and cackling. She doubted she could use it as blackmail seeing as he didn’t seem to care but it was funny nonetheless.

Deidara beamed down at her, looking at the picture on her phone. “It’s good to hear you laugh, yeah,” he said softly, almost too softly for her to hear. She blushed, locking her phone once more. She hadn’t meant to laugh like that, not so loudly and suddenly. It was awkward and sounded wrong coming from her.

“Yeah, we couldn’t find any apartments big enough for the four of us that we could afford so we split into two’s,” Kisame hummed, completely unaware that his picture had just been taken.

They continued in silence except for Deidara’s phone chiming and his indignant cry when Sakura closed the ice cream and put it away. Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door and considering she was currently advising Naruto on what to wear over text message – convincing him he needed to at least wear a clean shirt was much more difficult than it should be – Sakura could bet it was probably Itachi or the mysterious Sasori.

“I’ll get it,” Ino sang, prancing to the door and flinging it open. “Welcome!”

There stood, actually, both of the men, wearing identical expressions of surprise at being greeted by the perky blonde girl. Deidara stood and cheered, waving them in while Sakura hastily got to her feet to offer some water before remembering that the bags in their hands probably held much better drinks.

“Come in,” Deidara called. They entered and Sakura was able to get a look at Sasori for the first time.

He was dressed as casually as Deidara, slim dark jeans and a white t-shirt with clean boots. His red hair fell down his forehead and brushed his eyelashes and Sakura watched as he pushed it back, irritated. He had a thin mouth currently pulled into the most deadpan, yet somehow exasperated look she’d ever seen on someone. She could hear him chiding Deidara about planning a dinner at someone else’s house without actually telling them but she paid no attention, gazing at Itachi instead. He was greeting Ino, asking her some polite questions. He was dressed more formally than any of them in a dark blue button up and jeans, but somehow he pulled it off with a sort of nonchalance that was typical of the Uchiha brothers. His dark hair was perfect, of course, and he was overall just so irritatingly gorgeous and covered in a sort of enviable calm confidence that Sakura kind of wanted to punch him in the face.

She turned her attention back to Sasori, with some effort, and plastered a smile on her face.

“I’m Sakura,” she introduced herself.

The man turned to observe her with cool, but not unkind eyes. “Sasori,” he said with a slight incline of his head. “I’m sorry Deidara did this to you, I’ve tried to teach him better manners.”

“Hey! They’re grateful!”

“It’s alright,” Sakura said, her smile softening into a genuine one at the gentleness of his voice. She didn’t even blink as he sucker punched Deidara in the stomach, leaving him wheezing for air and cursing breathlessly at his red-haired roommate. “I just hope Kisame is as good a cook as he says he is.”

“Oi!” Kisame shouted, obvious shock in his voice. “I’m a fucking fantastic cook.”

“One with a potty mouth,” Sakura called back, leading them into her living room. “Naruto and Sasuke will be here any minute.” She nearly laughed at how joyful Deidara looked at the mention of Sasuke, who he apparently had enjoyed torturing for years now. She had to admit, it was pretty hilarious to watch. She could see why Itachi had never put an end to it. Someone ruffling Sasuke’s feathers like that was a sight to behold.

Itachi placed the grocery bags on the table, pulling out some juices and sodas as well as bottles of sake, which Ino eyed hungrily.

“So, do we want to pretend to be civilized before we eat, or should we just go straight for the alcohol?” Deidara mused, a slim finger pressed to his chin as he seriously contemplated their choices. Itachi rolled his eyes silently, going to sit on the couch. Sakura pointedly avoided his eyes, hating the way they looked through her own. Deidara had apparently gotten over the bodily harm Sasori had inflicted as he looked to his roommate for an answer to their dilemma. Sasori himself sat down on the couch beside Itachi, leaning back and shrugging carelessly.

“Up to our hosts,” he murmured, turning to where Ino contemplated the drinks from the small kitchen. Kisame nodded his agreement from behind her. They all turned to her and she frowned with the seriousness of the decision. Sakura nearly smiled.

“Ino?” she asked, deciding to take her lead considering Ino was much more versed in social situations than Sakura.

“Civilized first, at least until we get some food in our stomachs,” Ino declared decisively. They all nodded their approval and Sakura reached for a juice, flinching back when her fingers brushed Itachi’s.

“Sorry,” she mumbled and he shook his head, withdrawing his hand. She hated the way her voice shook.

“It’s yours,” he said and she nodded her thanks, snatching it up and opening it hastily.

He looked almost concerned and she averted her eyes, hating the way heat was flushing up her neck and spreading to her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to have such a visceral reaction to him. From her side, Deidara watched the proceedings with sharp interest, sharing a meaningful look with Sasori, who arched his eyebrow.

“Sakura, what’s your major again?” Sasorie asked bluntly.

She blinked at him, lips wrapped around her juice as she drank it and savored the sweetness, not used to the directness of his words. “I’m pre-med,” she answered, lowering her juice. Sasori hummed thoughtfully, a water bottle dangling from his fingers.

“Deidara tells me you’re a business major,” she continued, drinking more of the juice. Sasori nodded and Itachi opened his mouth to speak when suddenly their front door banged open, Sakura cursing as she realized she had forgotten to lock it behind Itachi and Sasori.

“We’re here,” Naruto bellowed.

“We can see that, idiot,” Ino snapped.

Deidara threw Sakura a meaningful look. “Who’s the blond idiot again?”

She sighed.

Kisame, it turned out, was an excellent cook. Sakura nearly moaned with pleasure as she ate the curry and rice. Ino was delighted, asking a million and one questions and promising to cook it for Sakura the next chance they got. Kisame was grinning boastfully, still in his pink apron absolutely nobody had blinked an eye at except Naruto and Sasuke. The younger Uchiha bore Deidara’s teasing somewhat more tolerantly now that he had good food in front of him. Sasori began passing around the sake and Sakura threw back a shot of it, relieved. Interacting with so many new people at once meant she was constantly on edge and she was glad for something to dull it. The warmth of it sank into her stomach, spreading to her limbs and she closed her eyes to enjoy it more fully.

The conversation flowed easily, aided by the sake and Deidara’s natural friendliness. Once the food was gone, Sakura offered to make the cookies; she would be a disgrace to her mother if she didn’t know how to bake and didn’t at least offer. Itachi also volunteered to help and with her nerves dulled by the alcohol, she readily agreed. He followed her into the small kitchen while everybody else settled in the living room, having an animated discussion about the newest drama Kisame was watching.

“I’m telling you, he’s going to die!” Kisame bellowed, pointing a finger at Sasuke, who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“It’s too early to tell,” he argued and Kisame scoffed.

“Maybe for a baby like you,” he taunted. Deidara cackled and Sasuke flushed, dark eyes narrowing.

Sakura smiled to herself, pulling out bowls and measuring cups while Itachi washed some of the dishes that had accumulated from dinner. She began measuring out the dry ingredients, humming to herself and letting her mind wander as her hands automatically made a recipe she had memorized a long time ago. She watched as Itachi, now bearing the pink frilly apron much to the amusement of his friends, cleaned the dishes, his eyes narrowed with focus. He looked hilarious, even if Sakura hadn’t been a little drunk. Dressed in a bright pink apron and using pastel blue gloves to wash dishes, the scene was ridiculously domestic. He looked up suddenly, eyes meeting hers, and she blinked. Caught.

“I’ll buy a new apron,” she blurted. His brow furrowed in confusion. She pointed at the one he was wearing. “For next time,” she clarified, mentally berating herself for her awkwardness.

“I’ll buy one for you guys.”

The sudden smile that spread across Itachi’s face was startling though still soft. His voice was a low, smooth sound as he chuckled and she smiled back, relaxing a fraction.

“Next time?” he questioned. She paled. Had she been assuming there would even be a next time? Had that been a mistake? Was he going to think she was presumptuous and weird, wanting this eclectic bunch of boys back in her apartment?

“Then you should buy one this week; I think Deidara mentioned making Saturday dinners a regular thing.”

Sakura nearly laughed until she registered what he had said.

“You’re joking,” she whispered in horror. He chuckled again, turning back to the dishes to dry them. He pulled off the gloves and spared her another glance, smiling at the look on her face as she paused her movements over the bowl.

“Not joking,” he answered. “You know how he is.”

She sighed, pressing the heel of her flour-covered palm to her forehead.

“I should’ve known,” she moaned, moving to grab an egg. She cracked it open carefully, just as her mother had taught her, mixing in the yolk gently before adding the second egg. She wondered briefly if she would make enough for all of them, considering Naruto could and would stuff his face with anything and everything. And Kisame could match him, mouthful for mouthful. Humming, she figured she could eat her ice cream instead of cookies to leave more for everyone else. Nodding decisively, she started to stir the batter, making sure to break apart any huge lumps of flour and baking soda as she did so. Absorbed in her work, she didn’t notice that Itachi had drawn closer until her elbow bumped him and she jumped about a foot in the air. He smiled a gentle apology, nodding his head toward the batter.

“Anything you need me to do?” he asked.

Sakura was tempted to say no just to get him out of her kitchen but she nodded instead. She blamed the alcohol for her sudden boldness. She jerked her head to the bag of chocolate chips next to her bowl.

“Could you start pouring some of those in while I mix?”

Itachi nodded, grabbing the bag and cutting it open, hesitating right before he moved to pour it in. His brow furrowed again, as it did whenever he was concentrating on something she was beginning to notice. “How much should I pour?” he asked suddenly in a hushed voice, obviously very concerned about the exact amount of chocolate chips he should be pouring in. Sakura nearly burst out laughing at the solemnity of his expression. Did he take everything so seriously, even baking cookies? For some reason, she could easily imagine him performing every action he took with the same amount of exactness. It was amusing to no end.

“I’ll tell you when to stop,” she assured him. He nodded and began slowly pouring them in, watching in fascination as she stirred them in slowly, lips pursed. The batter seemed a little runny and she wondered if she should add baking soda or more flour…

“You’re not using a recipe,” Itachi observed, interrupting her musings. Nodding for him to stop, she hummed.

“My mom is a baker,” she answered, sprinkling in just a little more flour and smiling with satisfaction as the batter became nearly perfect. She’d never make cookies like her mom; she didn’t have that gift. But what she baked was still pretty damn good. “I helped her out a lot and cookies are pretty popular, of course. I memorized this recipe a while ago.” She grabbed a spoon to start putting the batter on the cooking sheet and handed one to Itachi.

“One spoonful,” she instructed him and he nodded, seriousness back on his face. She watched him concentrate intently on spooning the same amount as her and watched as he placed it with such precision it was almost laughable. His lips thinned as he focused, nose wrinkled ever so slightly. Sakura felt her lips twitch into a small smile and she went on to put two cooking sheets in the oven with cookies.

She glanced at the clock, despairing at the lost studying time. She was going to have to read basically all day on Sunday to catch up with Tsunade’s reading, and then there was all of her other work to do. She sighed, willing the numbers on the microwave to go back.

Sakura turned her head toward the living room, lit up by the lamp on the little side table, where Itachi had seated himself on the floor beside his brother, an absent hand going to ruffle Sasuke’s hair. Sasuke glared at him, ducking his head and Itachi grinned, a smile unlike any she had ever seen before on his handsome face. It was impish, nearly childlike, and comical beside Sasuke’s frown. Deidara was teasing him, and Sasuke’s head whipped around to snarl at him. Ino laughed and joined in, fingers still wrapped around the sake bottle she had been not-so-sneakily taking swigs off. Naruto was arm wrestling Kisame and Sasori looked on, eyes narrowed, calling encouragements to Naruto as he struggled, face turning red. Sakura watched them, wondering if there was any way for her heart to rest in this moment. For her memory to seize and hold it forever.

Naruto’s hand was slammed on the table and he whined, rubbing at the back of his hand while Kisame roared with laughter, high-fiving Sasori. Naruto turned to Sakura and she almost laughed at the look of utter defeat on his face. How had she found such dramatic friends?

“Cheer up, there’s cookies with your name on it,” Sakura called and he brightened instantly, calling for a rematch. Kisame grinned as he accepted the challenge and they went back to it, Naruto’s brow furrowed in concentration.

The oven beeped and Sakura checked the cookies, nodding in approval before pulling them out. She carefully placed each on the cooling rack her mother had given her, trying not to fidget as she waited for them to cool enough to eat. Not that it mattered since Naruto, fresh from another defeat, reached around her and popped one in his mouth, grinning at her like his mouth wasn’t about to receive first degree burns.

“Perfect as always, Sakura-chan,” Naruto hummed around his mouthful, taking four more into his hands. His fingers didn’t even turn red and Sakura didn’t say anything as he went back to the couch with his treasure. She had long ago learned that questioning Naruto wasn’t worth it. She heard exclamations as her friends saw Naruto’s handful. She practically dove out of the way as Kisame and Deidara elbowed and kicked their way into the room, both hands outstretched toward the cookie plate. Ino wasn’t too far behind, leg outstretched to trip both of them at once. Sakura managed to snag four and hurried away before any of them could tumble into her, handing two each to Sasori and Itachi.

“I have strawberry ice cream if you want any,” she told Sasuke as she sat down next to him; he shook his head, taking a drink of the sake before offering her some. She took a grateful swig. She could hear the other three squabbling over how many cookies each got and she shook her head, exchanging an exasperated glance with Sasori.

“Are they always like this?” she asked him. Sasori sighed, sucking a long breath through his nose and exhaling noisily.

“Every day,” he muttered, eyes closed.

“These are good,” Itachi said suddenly. Sakura glanced over at him, amused by how wide his eyes were. It made him look young, childish.

“I told you,” she answered, digging another mouthful of ice cream out of the tub and contemplating it lazily on her spoon. “My mother owns a bakery.” She stuck the cold spoonful into her mouth, allowing it to melt a little before swallowing. She hadn’t had strawberry ice cream in years. She was surprised Deidara had even remembered her off-hand comment days ago that it was her favorite kind.

She glanced over at him, where he was still trying to take Kisame’s last cookie from his outstretched hand. She smiled.

Sakura was sweating. She could feel it rolling down her back and glittering on her forehead. Her jaw was locked, teeth clenched as she tried to control her breathing. She pursed her lips, brow furrowed as she glared at the cards in her hand.

A few moments later, her expression cleared and with a victorious smile, she slammed her cards down.

“I win!” she crowed, to the utter dismay of every other person in the room. Deidara collapsed to the floor, Kisame swore, Naruto threw his cards down in frustration. Ino was laughing from where she watched on the couch and Sasuke continued frowning at his phone. Sasori merely sighed and Itachi ran a tired hand through his hair, finally beginning to look a little unruffled after drinking and losing to Sakura three times that same night.

Sakura clapped her hands together, falling flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling that seemed to be spinning for whatever reason. That reason being alcohol, probably. She giggled.

Itachi’s face appeared in her line of sigh, corners of his mouth quirking, only slightly noticeable.

“You weren’t kidding,” he remarked. She pushed herself back up, groaning a little. Itachi drew back, closer to her than he was before. She noted the difference vaguely, knowing she’d forget it by morning. Ino snorted, pulling her own phone out as she glanced at her best friend with an oddly proud smirk.

“Sakura is undefeated at card games once you get a little alcohol in her. I’m convinced she was an alcoholic gambler in a past life.”

“You don’t sound too bitter about it,” Kisame grumbled, seeming to slowly forgive Sakura for her final win. Ino shrugged carelessly.

“Got used to it,” she hummed. The sounds from the game on Sasuke’s phone drew Sakura’s eyes to him. Naruto hovered over his shoulder, frowning and crying out every time Sasuke died. Deidara was sprawled on the floor just next to them, long legs flung over Sasori’s lap, who was attempting to peruse on of Sakura’s textbooks.

“This is all gibberish to me,” he admitted slowly, glancing up at her through his red bangs. Sakura tilted her head back, the tips of her hair brushing the floor. It had gotten too long over the summer. Ino would have to cut it soon.

“It’s gibberish to me too,” she admitted. Kisame chuckled, glancing at the book as well and pulling a face.

“And you’re the future of medicine?” he joked. Sakura leveled a glare at him, though she was sure it wasn’t all too convincing. A stubborn smile pulled at her lips.

“And you’re going to save the whales?” she threw back. Kisame merely shrugged, shit-eating grin still on his face.

“We’re going to save the world, kid,” he answered, voice oddly gentle. Sakura frowned, not quite understanding where the turn in conversation had come from. Itachi made a noise in his throat and she glanced at him – up at him, since he was still so close their fingers nearly brushed. His closeness was disorienting. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body and in her drunken state she wondered what he would do if she rested her head on his shoulder, just for a moment.

“That’s optimistic,” the elder Uchiha commented mildly.

“Chances are we won’t make any difference,” Sasori agreed in his usual monotone voice. Deidara’s response was a snore. Kisame opened his mouth to reply but Sakura beat him to it. The room was spinning but there was Itachi’s hand, so close to her own. She stared at his nails as she answered, using them to center herself. The words came slowly, haltingly.

“We make a difference every day, don’t we? Differences we don’t see all the time, but they’re there.”

Sirens rang in her ears and she let her eyes fall shut, the floor coming up to meet her back seconds after she let her head tilt backwards once more.

“Not all differences are good,” she mumbled before she swam away, the world a blur.

The cure to hangovers, Sakura had learned, was a cup of hot black coffee and a hot shower. She squeezed her damp hair with a towel as she sipped at her coffee, enjoying the way it seemed to seep into her bones. Her headache was fading away as the medicine she took kicked in. Ino had yet to rise and face the day and it would be afternoon soon, so Sakura could only assume she was worse off.

She opened the door to their balcony as quietly as possible, allowing the cool air to rush over her face. The mornings were growing steadily cooler and she nearly shivered in her robe and slippers. She watered her plants carefully, humming as she did so. Sakura looked out at the street behind her apartment building, watching the world slowly wake up on a Sunday morning. Leaning her forearms against the railing, she threaded her fingers through her wet hair, untangling it herself. The smell of her shampoo was fresh and fruity. She took another sip of her coffee as her phone buzzed in her robe’s pocket. Sighing, she pulled it out and swiped at the screen to view the text from Ino.

Instead of the plea for water or coffee, as she’d been expecting, there was a picture. Sakura, sprawled on the floor of their living room, mouth open as she slept. And Itachi, looking down at her, hair partially obscuring his face. But it couldn’t hide the smile he wore, gentler than any expression she’d seen on him yet.

Blushing furiously, she locked her phone hastily and gulped her coffee down. The sound of cars driving by soothed her and after a few moments she opened her phone again, glaring down at the picture. He probably thought she looked ridiculous, she tried to convince herself. She squeezed her phone, locking it once more. Walked back inside and shut the door.

Huffing, she pulled out her textbooks, ready to make up for the studying time she’d lost the night before. After a few minutes of staring at words that made no sense to her, she unlocked her phone impatiently, staring at the picture.

Ino was never going to let it go.

Her thumb pressed down, the picture saved before she had even fully comprehended what she was doing. The memory of his warmth came back and she sighed, eyes closing as she tried to get a grip.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, Ino had written something.

i’ll put it in the wedding slideshow, don’t worry!!

Sakura growled, tossing her phone on the couch. Damn blonde witch.

[eversall]

prompt: jimon + sleeping together and then agreeing to pretend it never happened, but obviously that doesn't work *flails*

hi!! thank you for the prompt i wrote this while i was writing my essay and it was the best kind of distraction 

Jace remembers exactly how it happened, because he’s not the kind ofdrunk to forget things, and he wasn’t even that drunk anyway; he remembersexactly how they’d moved, Simon’s eyes fullof promise as they’d kissed, slow and languid and unhurried in a dark corner ofMagnus’ party, and then they’d stumbled into one of the bedrooms; he remembersexactly how his heart had broken, clinging desperately to this one chance to beselfish and have what he wanted, and maybe that’s the saddest thing of all.

The memory is burned across the forefront of his mind, of Simon leaningin and whispering, low, his body swaying slightly to the music why are you here, Jace, I’m not even yourtype, man. And it was meant to be a joke, the kind they’re allowed to teaseeach other with now that they’re friends, or something like friends-adjacent,but Jace had been stupid-confident with the low, exhilarating buzz of alcoholand he’d leaned in closer, too close, and whispered back but you are and Simon had made a low, thrilled noise; he’d pressedinto Jace until there was no space left between them and sealed their mouthstogether.

Jace can vividly recall the way Simon had felt, tongue lazily strokingthe roof of Jace’s mouth, fingertips creeping up over Jace’s back and draggingdown slowly, his hips undulating to the beat of the music against Jace’s. Jacehad been powerless in the face of everything he’d wanted, and he’d pushed backto give as good as he’d got, hoisting Simon up by his thighs as they’d kissed andstumbling backwards until they’d found a door and pushed through it, Jacecarelessly turning the lock with his hand as he’d slammed Simon up against the wall.

“You’re – oh – fuck – how far do you want to - ?” Simonhad asked, and Jace had hummed, pleased, as he’d nosed along the delicate lineof Simon’s jaw, setting his teeth in the fragile skin of Simon’s neck andbiting lightly.

“Everything.” Jace had answered carelessly, the words flying out of hismouth with an alarming sincerity, but with arousal running hot through hisveins, he couldn’t have cared less; he’d let Simon’s legs down and thenimmediately dropped to his knees, eyes fixed hungrily on Simon’s belt buckle ashe’d fumbled through getting his pants down and over his knees and then beforeSimon could push his boxers down he’d leaned forward, mouthing at Simon’s cockthrough the thin cotton, body thrumming with a sudden urgency to devour the other man.

“Fuck, you’re amazing, Jace.” Simon had breathed out, his handsgoing to anchor themselves in Jace’s hair, and Jace had closed his eyes andsavored it, the frisson of pleasure creeping up his spine at the way Simon saidhis name, and he’d worked that night to tear his name out of Simon’s mouth inevery way possible. Simon, shuddering Jaceand pulling him up to taste himself in Jace’s mouth; Simon, whispering Jace with a kind of awe on his face thathad hurt to look at as he’d pushedthree fingers into Jace and Jace had moaned, loud and needy, the sound echoingthrough the room; Simon, crying Jaceas he’d come undone over Jace, pushing in and in and in until they were wrappedtogether, moving with a frenzied urgency together, eyes locked onto each otheras Jace memorized every line of Simon’s face like this, gorgeous and wild.

And now, as he wakes up with Simon’s head pillowed on his chest, he remembers everything, and it suddenly hurts so much he can barely breathe,and he slips out of bed as quietly as he can, leaving it behind.

.

He can’t leave it behind. He and Simon are out of sync, today, lookingat each other and then looking away, and Jace can’t stop flushing with anabsurd undercurrent of lust every time he moves and his legs ache, remindinghim of last night, or when he pushes his fingers against the hickey Simon lefton his hipbone, hidden by his shirt.

It’s making him feel heartbroken,because Simon was a little drunk andit probably meant nowhere near as much to him as it does to Jace, because Jaceis all in and Simon – Simon’s only been broken up with Clary for two weeks,now, and Jace is the rebound, he knowsit. It hurts, and his body is still pulsing with the feeling of Simon, memoriesfresh from last night, and it’s confusing, and he snaps at Simon more thanonce, and Simon snaps back, and they’re both too awkward and stilted around eachother.

“How much did you have to drink last night?” Izzy asks him, bewildered,as he misses his landing and missteps when he jumps down from the roof,stumbling. He grunts, and shrugs; Alec cuts him a look, and Jace is pretty surehe’s figured out what happened from the parabatai bond.

“Enough to see you slip out with Clary and remember it.” Jace responds instead, smirking, and Izzy laughs andthey forget about it; but Simon stares at him like he’s a puzzle that can’t be figuredout and Clary raises an eyebrow.

Later, Simon pulls him aside, his grip firm and unavoidable, and Jacestares at him, waiting for him to speak, and desperately thinking say you’re in love with me too. Say theimpossible, Simon, say it.

“Look,” Simon says, his eyes darting around furtively, “it doesn’t haveto mean anything. We can pretend it never happened. Just stop ignoring me likeI’m gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, Jesus.” He says, and Jace laughs alittle because he can’t help it, his heart aches and Simon’s still the mostbeautiful and ridiculous person he’s ever seen.

He rubs the back of his neck, looks at Simon carefully.

“Sure.” He says, and Simon’s eyes lighten considerably, and Jacepretends it doesn’t kill him a little on the inside. “Sure.”

.

He really – tries. To pretend like it didn’t happen. But how can he forgetthe feeling of Simon’s arms pinning him in place, his eyes hungry as he pressedkisses down Jace’s chest, their legs tangled together like it’s the easiestthing in the world? How can he pretend Simon didn’t give him somethingimmeasurably precious?

“You’ve gotta talk to him.” Alec tells him, and Jace snorts.

“Talking, yeah, how’d that work out for you?” He asks, handing Alec hisbow and arrow as they suit up for patrol. Alec grimaces.

“Point.” He concedes. “But here’s a novelidea – maybe you could, oh, I don’t know, learn from my mistakes?”

“See, that implies I make mistakes too, and as we all know, that’s nottrue.” Jace says, smirking, and Alec cuffs him over the head for that as Jacetries to dodge, laughing.

“Right,” Simon says, appearing next to them with Clary and Izzy in tow,“because putting salt in your coffee this morning was what you intended to do.”

“It’s how the French take their coffee.” Jace responds loftily. “Youwouldn’t understand.” Simon laughs, shoves Jace gently, and Izzy starts sayingsomething about coffee beans, and Jace doesn’t listen for a moment, just looksat Simon, and after a beat Simon looks at him, his eyes warm. They hold on toeach other like that for a second too long, and Jace feels his heart stutter inhis chest.

.

Simon is everywhere. Jace iswalking through Central Park, trying to get some time alone, when he sees Simonsitting on a bench and contemplating a melting ice-cream cone like it’s holdingthe secrets of the universe.

“Give that to me.” Jace says, snatching the ice cream from his hands,and Simon startles, his arm flailing and hitting the bench railing. It dentsslightly and Jace raises an eyebrow, incredulous, as he licks the melting dropsoff the cone. “You can’t eat this, what’s wrong with you?”

“Where did you come from, man?” Simon asks instead, gaping. His eyesflicker to where Jace is swirling his tongue over the cone, and Jace flushesbecause he vividly remembers using the same motion in a much more intimate place. “I don’t know, I justreally missed ice cream.”

“So you sat here like a lunatic, just waiting for it to melt all overyour fingers?” Jace asks, sliding on the bench next to him. He slides in tooclose accidentally, and their thighs are pressing together, and Simon looks athim for a moment too long.

“Yeah.” Simon says, and then he’s reaching across the space betweenthem, his thumb brushing softly against Jace’s lower lip. Jace can’t breathe, and he holds himself as stillas possible, the air growing thick between them with tension as Simon bringshis thumb away, a drop of strawberry ice cream on it.

“You had a bit of – “ Simon says hoarsely, and they both look at histhumb, and Simon slowly brings it up to his mouth and sucks the drop off, hischeeks hollowing out around the finger and his eyes trained intently on Jace’s.It’s obscene and beautiful in a wild, reckless way.

Jace’s caged heart pounds wildly in his chest and he drops the icecream cone.

“Jace.” Simon says helplessly, and Jace shakes his head as he stands.It’s not fair. They’re pretending itdidn’t happen.

.

It’s another party, only a week after the first one, and Jace is stonecold sober, his mood sour as he takes in the bright lights in Magnus’ darkenedloft, the bass thrumming through the floor. He’s in the corner, leaning againstthe wall, and he thinks bitterly that it never ends, his cycle of falling lovewith all the wrong people.

Simon appears like Jace’s thoughts have summoned him, and his blue button-uphas the top few buttons popped; Jace has the absurd urge to tell him to coverup.

“You’re not drinking?” Simon asks, and Jace looks at him.

“No.” He says, because how can it be a good idea? How can he stand hereand pretend that he doesn’tdesperately want to drown in Simon again?

“Why?” Simon persists, stepping closer to be heard, and Jace wants toback away further but he’s already trapped.

“Why do you think?” Jace mutter bitterly, and it’s too much too soon,playing all his cards at once, his heart on his sleeve, and Simon reels backlike he’s been slapped.

“Sorry that sleeping with me was sucha nightmare.” He says coldly, and it feels like being doused in frigidwater, to see the way Simon’s eyes glitter, and Jace’s fury rises out of him,sudden and overwhelming.

“You don’t get to say anything,”Jace snaps, “you’re the one who wanted to pretend nothing happened.”

“Nothing – “ Simon growlswordlessly and shoves at Jace. “You ranout on me!”

“I’m not going to be yourrebound, I am not your second choice,Simon.” Jace says, and his voice is wrecked and anguished and he feels like he’ssuffocating. He needs to get out of here. He pushes away from the wall, barelylooking at Simon as he shoves his way through the crowd and tries to get to thedoor, tries to get out, but there’s ahand on his wrist and he’s suddenly being spun around and pushed down acorridor. 

It’s Simon, his eyes blazing as Jace stumbles backwards, right into an openroom, and it’s a painful echo of the last time they were here, with Jace laidout bare in front of Simon, every wall he’d ever put up crumbling in the wakeof Simon’s force.

“I’d been in love with you for months,”Simon says, his voice hard and angry, “and Clary and I broke up because tryingto forget about our feelings for other people wasn’t working out. Youdon’t get to decide what I feel.”

“What do you feel.” Jace repeats dumbly, because he doesn’t know whatto say, doesn’t know how to accept this when he’s been torturing himself withit for what feels like the longest time. Simon knows how take him apart and puthim back together and it hurts; hewants to feel something more, he wants to be the reason Simon smiles.

“You’re who I want.” Simon says, and his voice is low, his handsshaking as they come up to grip Jace’s arms. “That night, I – it meantsomething to me. It meant everything.”

“Me too.” Jace half-whispers, and they’re looking at each other forhalf a second, moonlight filtering over Simon’s cheeks, the noise of the partymuted behind them, and suddenly they’re both moving forward, throwingthemselves at each other. They kiss, fiercely, like it’s the last chance they’llget to, Simon immediately shoving his tongue down Jace’s throat and Jace slamminghim against the closest wall. Simon’s nails rake down Jace’s back, and he feelsthe tell-tale bloom of pain, coupled with the sharp spike of pleasure at Simon markinghim, Simon wanting him.

“I love you,” Jace manages to get out between kisses, cradling Simon’sface between his palms as he tugs at Simon’s bottom lip with his teeth, “and it’skilling me, it’s – I don’t know what to do.”

“I know.” Simon says, and it’s mournful, but his eyes are clear when helooks back at Jace. “I trust you.”

I don’t trust myself Jacewants to say, but it gets lost as Simon palms him roughly through his jeans andkisses him again, softer this time, sweeter. It’s gentle, and it breaks Jace’sheart. A clean cut, something that feels like a new beginning rather than anending.

Okay, Jace thinks, and hekisses back. Somewhere in his chest, something delicately hopeful starts tobloom.

[abiteofnat]

AVOCADON’T EVEN TELL ME ABOUT WHERE THERE IS GOOD GUAC… 

Because last month in six days I ate Mexican food for dinner six times. That’s right, every single dinner somehow started with a big ole basket of tortilla chips and ended with greasy fingers and 3-6 tacos in my stomach.  I think at one point I just began to expect that my night would end in rice and corn tortillas, and then it just kept happening…

Is this anywhere near a complaint? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Mexican is in my top three favorite categories of food, the other two being Italian and Mediterranean (but bagels always, always coming in first above all), and so I tend to be a harsh critic. There’s also different types of Mexican food: the traditional, authentic type that’s hard to find but life changing when you do, the 3 a.m. places that are the real reason we even go out in the first place so we can end up in front of a chimichanga of shame after a somewhat irritating house party, and then the nearly authentic kind that has a dash of flair added. I LOVE ‘EM ALL. Most of these will be a mix of the first and last kind, as everyone who knows me knows the only 3 a.m. place I frequent is Allende Restaurant even though everyone else is a Taco Burrito Palace bitch. That Allende rice and white tile walls; nothing will comfort you and your premature hangover quite like it. When your friend is crying over that fuckboy and your friend’s friend drank about six beers too many? Take them to Allende! Can’t cry when you’re choking on horchata! 

I haven’t done a good taco roundup in a while and for a city that loovvesss margaritas as much as Chicago does it’s about time. How can I even write this after being up to my ears in salsa verde without wanting to throw up? IT WAS ALL JUST THAT GOOD. I’m living vicariously through my own memories from the past week and I am legitimately excited to write about these tacos.  

HERE WE GO. 

1. Adobo Grill 

On any given menu, there’s about 10% of things I have no interest in eating. Add on the 80% I can’t actually eat due to being vegetarian, and that leaves 10% of a menu that is up for grabs. The fact that the happy hour taco offered the night we went to Adobo Grill was one of the most astounding tacos I’ve ever had literally blows my mind- what! are! the! odds! For $2 a piece you could assume that it’s going to be chicken, beef, or some odd mixture because at Adobo the taco platters come in sets of three tacos with rice and beans for $15-19 so why would they give the good stuff for cheap… AND INSTEAD IT WAS A LUCIOUS FISH TACO, GRILLED TO GOLDEN PERFECTION. Topped with pico de gallo and spicy mayo sauce? Add in some of their fresh to death guac and a little spicy red salsa? It was almost tooooo good. The single corn tortilla held up beautifully against the moist, meaty fish and they did not skimp on anything even though it was 5:30 p.m. and happy hour drinks were flowing and the restaurant could have really taken advantage of that. These tacos have not left my mind, or my heart… 

Another thing so wonderful about this place: the patio! It’s open and covered in tasteful twinkle lights, with the giant mural (pictured) of a happy skeleton man a and some flowers that play off the orange and purple hues of the decor. To sit outside right across from Second City (great date night all in one city block!) and sip a Modelo pretty much means fucking euphoria, and then add in guac that actually tastes like guac and not avocado slime? KABOOM. As much as I want to say all guac is good guac Adobo puts a lot of places to shame (cough cough Chipotle how the frick is that shit celebrated so widely) and gives you a TON of incredible guac for $9. Chip score: 8/10. Guac score: 10/10. Vibes: 10/10. 

Insider scoop: Go for happy hour until 6 p.m., splurge for guac, add the salsa to everything, and order a side of plantains with sour cream. Never had plantains before? This is the perfect place to just trust the food blogger and go for it because you will DIE OVER THEM. 

2. Big Star

BIG STAR IS MY KING, QUEEN, AND THE ENTIRE KINGDOM. If you live in Chicago, and it is above freeze-my-nuts-off temperature, it is patio weather and any restaurant that puts 2 chairs and a table out front will be considered a patio destination. Like Adobo (but even better) Big Star goes above and beyond as it’s a mainly-patio restaurant, with bulb lights lights above every stainless steel table and the warmest, most inviting outdoor seating there is once the sun goes down. You can watch the people, see some street art, watch the Blue Line zoom by, and walk to Stan’s Donuts for a wide array of treats afterward (aka a blueberry cheese danish, YUMBO). 

Located in Wicker Park, a very artsy n’ cute section of Chicago that’s a bit more on the ~trendy~ side since lots of blogged about restaurants have opened up, Big Star offers tacos a la carte and the best chips and guacamole on that side of the highway. I have gone for the past two years close to my birthday to celebrate because the pitchers are insanely alcoholic and also delicious, serving about 6 glasses in each pitcher. With one marg being $9 and a pitcher being $36, it is an absolute steal and even if only two people are at the table it is worth the high price tag. Best part is that the pitcher comes with a wooden ladle which adds to the vibe of Big Star, but is also hilarious to stir your vat of tequila and juice with. Like witch’s potion, but probably even more dangerous! 

Once everyone is seated and with drink, it’s time for the poor waiter to scream over everyone to take the order. While Big Star is mostly outside, it’s verryyyyy loud due to the sheer amount of people and the music pumping from the inside section that leaves the doors/ windows wide open. We were seated near the window and with a group of ten, it was one of those nights that leaves your voice hoarse and your ears ringing but feeling like you had a good as heck time! My favorite vegetarian tacos are the:

- Taco de Zananhorias: try ordering that when you do not speak Spanish and are two margs deep! This taco is the best yet overlooked one on the menu, featuring spiced cooked carrots that are savory and still have a crunch to them, pumpkin seeds for flavor and texture, and an incredible spicy date & yogurt dressing that offers a chipotle kick to offset the sweetness of the carrots and the dates. Wrapped in a corn tortilla, this taco is actually a filling veggie taco that doesn’t just taste like red peppers topped in guac! Which is like 99% of most vegetarian tacos! The flavors in this are worth more than $2.50 a pop, which is what it will cost you. 

- Taco de Pescado: Your typical and delicious fried tilapia taco! Beer battered and with the expected crunch of cabbage, top with some line for a perfect fish taco. This is a good standby if you’re weary of the more creative ones. 

- THE WALKING TACO: Most of the table ordered this one! It’s a DAMN fever dream to eat! Let me preface by saying honey BBQ twist Fritos are my most coveted, most guilty snack that I find myself eating far too often and usually when I’m having a flip off the universe and treat yourself moment. So take the trusted, panty-dropping crunch of the Frito and then add buffalo sauce, beans, cheese, crema, and cilantro? STILL IN THE SNACK SIZE FRITO BAG? AND YOU EAT IT ALL WITH A FORK? FUCKIN NUTS GUYS. I know for a fact this stretches the authentic “Mexican food” title, but man that was a great business decision to include it. Once a year, as a birthday treat, the Walking Taco is my bitch. 

Shoutout to Big Star, the ideal location for any event that needs tequila. 

3. Garcia’s Restaurant 

Garcia’s feels like home due to the amount of times a meal there has included the same group of close friends, emotional conversations about sorority stuff, and late night escapes from boys that don’t understand when they’re ridiculous, we will go get mole and strawberry daiquiris instead of dealing with them. While I have no photos to share, I do have memories and the assurance that this place is truly authentic. From the large wooden chairs to the flags on the wall, atmosphere lacks but the food is absolutely incredible. I always order the Cheese Enchiladas with mole poblano on top, and it is the real mole that makes you warm from the inside out. It’s thick with notes of cocoa, spices, and not too sweet- almost bittersweet in fact, and with the pull of cheese inside chewy tortillas all rolled up underneath it is a rare find indeed. 

The chips & salsa take the cake in my book; they’re perfectly crispy and not greasy, and the salsa will make your eyes water but then before you know it your face is soaking wet because you ate ALL OF THE SALSA ANYWAY. Hurts so good, you know? 

And as mentioned the strawberry daiquiri is DOPE DOPE DOPE. Huge for the price, sweet and sugary with all the spicy food, and perfect for late night gossip. Or pregaming, either one. 

4. Taco Diablo 

An Evanston favorite! The OG Taco Diablo opened a few years ago and was an instant hit in the North Shore as it was a dark, intimate den of Mexican food, a place for casual drinks, and coated in sugar skull paintings and weird demonic creatures dancing around the bar area. Given the logo has little devils in it, it’s fitting that here they take a sultry, somewhat naughty approach to decor and food. We went once or twice a week and craved their guac that has a very specific lime & garlic undertone to it in the best way guac ever could, and the baskets of thin chips with rock salt sprinkled on the sides. 

No one was prepared for the morning we woke up and Beloved Taco Diablo had burned down, along with it’s neighboring restaurant Pine Yard. Needless to say, everyone was SHOOK and really genuinely upset that this tragedy struck such loved, run-by-good-people places. So then even more was no one prepared when the ashes were burried and from them rose A NEW TACO DIABO RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET! The owners of this cantina and the conjoining (long time closed) Asian-influence restaurant Lulu’s bought a double lot across the street and just went gung-ho on giving Evanston two of their favorite places back, which was like Christmas 100x over. The tacos from Taco Diablo AND the sesame peanut noodles from Lulu’s??? Next door??? HECKIN’ YES. I have literally downed a -very strong- marg with friends at Taco Diablo and then placed an order for the noodles to go to enjoy later in bed, and if that’s not employing DEMAND AND SUPPLY IDK WHAT IS. 

Go here for dinner with friends, a second date or a weekly drink date, and to sample every fucking thing on the menu. Especially the chilaquiles!!! 

5. Depot Nuevo

This one is hardest to type because we adore it, cherish it, crave it, owe many years of our lives to it way too much and in fact I will be here this week a couple times already. Depot graced our lives many moons ago in Wilmette and quickly became the neighborhood hub, as it’s downtown and in a real, separate house with a wraparound porch and the same smiling faces greeting you every single time. The menu offers your typical Mexican favorites such as tacos, fajitas, burritos + bowls, and of course guac and salsa, but with a slightly more upscale twist in a casual yet good-enough-for-a-life-event setting. The shrimp taco filled with crispy grilled shrimp, spicy crema, and actual slices of avocado are in my list of favorite foods in the entire world, but order the cheese quesadilla with a side of avocado and rice and holy frickle frackle you will never see quesadillas as a children’s food again. The cheese is juicy, chewy, stretchy, buttery, everything you could imagine and more. House-made corn tortillas and red salsa are impossible to describe, and the pomegranate margarita is the sweet n’ sour necessity to the meal that will linger in your mind for days afterward until you go back. 

Don’t brush it off because it’s in the quiet and sleepy suburbs. It is constantly busy, turnt, and I promise people in my friend group will be there heckling the staff and demanding elite service because we keep them in business. I THANK AND APPRECIATE YOUR WORK, DEPOT! 

That’s all I’ve got for you today friends, I hope this helps shape some weekend plans and gives you some new happy hour spots! What are your favorite Mexican restaurants?? Always looking for new places! 

-Natalie 

[thebsbakery]

I Swear, these cookies will not get you drunk.

Next cookie adventure on the list are the chocolate strawberry tequila swirls. First admission I have to make with these is, I really love alcohol...buuut just not for drinking, not a lot anyway.

No, my favorite use for booze is in cooking and baking. Give me a good beer, and I'll make a mind-blowing chicken. Hand me some whiskey, and it'll baste a turkey or go into the stuffing...or both. And if there's an unfinished bottle of strawberry créme tequila hanging around in the fridge, I will boil it down into a syrup and put it in cookies.

Like these. Recipe is on Tablespoon, here: https://www.tablespoon.com/recipes/chocolate-mint-swirl-cookies/45ea14f8-40cd-4fff-bb22-f5371669b451.

I switched up the mint part of these in favor of the boiled-down strawberry créme syrup and the green food coloring in favor of bright-ass pink. And a bit of almond extract. Normally I hate the color pink, but I make an exception for food.

Like the red velvet cookies, I'm doing a double batch of these suckers. So everything here is doubled from the original recipe.

I'm going to start with the strawberry side of these cookies.

First, cream together your butter, sugar, and almond extract. Then add your eggs.

Once that's done, add this delicious syrup in. It's not that hard to take the alcohol out of booze...just pour it into a pan, bring it to a boil, and let it go until it's reduced by half or so, depending on how much you're boiling down. Hence, how I turned a strawberry tequila créme drink into this sweet, delicious syrup.

If you don't want to mess with the boiling down beforehand, just pour a shot or two of the booze right into the dough. The alcohol content will still boil away while the cookies are baking, due to this fun trick of chemistry called “alcohol has a lower boiling point than water”. It's why you can baste a turkey in red wine without ending up getting your Thanksgiving party sloshed.

Oh, right, and the pink food color. I just added enough to get it to a neon, hot pink. This is what your mix will look like before you add the flour.

To make the chocolate dough, just follow the same steps for the strawberry dough, just minus the syrup and almond extract and food color and plus the cocoa powder. When you're done, you'll have two cookie doughs and ready to start rolling.

Roll both out to about a quarter-inch thick, and lay them one on top of the other. It's a hell of a lot of easier to pull the wax paper off when they're cold, less chance of dough ripping.

Then roll the dough slab into a tube. It will look ridiculous...I pulled out the one that had the pink on the outside and, well...apparently my friends thought it looked like a certain male body part, as the moment I pulled it out of the fridge they erupted into laughter. This one, with the chocolate on the outside...iiit didn't do much better.

My friends do not have clean minds. For that matter, neither do I, which is likely why this blog almost got named The Blog of Foodporn.

Anyway....

Cut the logs into slices about ¼ to 1/3 of an inch thick, and place them on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper—or as I like to call it, a baker's best friend. They won't stick, no matter how sticky the dough is.

Protip: for the best flavor, let these suckers cool. While they're still hot, you won't be able to taste a lot of the strawberry or chocolate when you bite into them. They're still good, but if you really want a punch of the strawberry-chocolate deliciousness, let 'em cool first. Trust me, they're waaay better that way.

Tomorrow I'll be posting the third cookie in this series, the lavender tea shortbreads. Trust me when I say that while those things are simple, it's one of the best recipes I've got. Every time I make them, they're a hit.