#blowing off steam by complaining to/with my mom is actually really fun

[roboticchibitan]

I have now reached "my mom and I call each other to complain about our shitty days" level of adulthood.

[caramelcal]

Trained for Sin

Ship: Luke Patterson x Reader {fwb}

Word Count: 3.58k (i did not mean for this to be so long)

a/n: yes well...here’s this...(READ THE WARNINGS) enjoy lovelies x 

WARNINGS: friends with benefits theme, heavily implied sexual activities (not any proper smut though), swearing DO NOT READ THIS IS YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THESE THINGS!!!

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s work) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

Masterlist   Part Two (optional)

The spontaneous meetings that you had with Luke were exhilarating, whether it be in a bed, on the kitchen counter, or in a public bathroom, it didn’t matter. There was a deal that you guys had made after your first hook-up, and mostly it was for Luke to just blow off steam but you certainly got its benefits too. Sure, it was very well-known that Luke was a bit of a fuck boy, but he didn’t like it going around school every time he had sex with a girl. That’s why he only did it with you, a way for him to have a release, but without the rumors or real commitment.

For the first two months, you were fine with that. You were more than fine with that. Yet, as the months went on, the adrenaline that you had experienced at the start of the deal was not as strong, what was stronger was your longing for more. Currently, that was all you felt as you looked at him.

He had his back turned towards you, you still wrapped up in the sheets of his bed, watching his back muscles flex as he grabbed and put his muscle tee back on. During your time with Luke, every single piece of attention he had was on you, and you liked that, but after he was finished, it was like you never even existed. You would normally get a few words, telling you that he would text you next time he needed you, and the occasional goodbye, but you wanted more.

Even though you and Luke never actually talked, you were always quite good at reading people. Luke was more difficult but the more you paid attention to his mannerisms, the way he walked, and the way he interacted with his friends you knew quite a few quirks that he did when he was feeling certain ways. That’s how you knew what to expect from him when you met up with him.

You weren’t entirely sure of the reason that Luke didn’t want a relationship but you often found yourself pondering it. Maybe he wasn’t ready for it, maybe he found himself too busy with the band but the most believable thing you had thought up was that Luke wasn’t the relationship type. He just wanted to fuck, no connections or attachments whatsoever and he got that with you, maybe that’s why he kept you around.

“I’ll text you later. Maybe we can meet up after band practice if you’re free,” Luke commented, not even turning to face you whilst he continued to pick up things, getting ready. He situated his beanie on his head, grabbing his flannel and a few other things before heading towards his bedroom door, “my mom and dad aren’t home, you can let yourself out. You have your key, right?”

Ah yes, your key. The key to Luke’s front door that he gave you after a month of you guys ‘seeing’ each other. He needed for you to be easy access, so if that meant giving you a key then so be it.

“Yeah,” You replied to the boy, who left without another word, much less saying goodbye. You were used to it unfortunately, Luke was often like this and only gave a goodbye if he was in an extra good mood, which wasn’t as often as you would have liked it to be. After hearing the front door shut, you sighed heavily, taking your time to get out of Luke’s bed, still very much nude, and making your way over to his dresser.

Opening it up, you reached for the back part, which was carefully hidden away from sight which contained extra clothes for you to wear if need be and after Luke had ripped your shirt off of your body, you felt that you probably should change into something new. Your hand lightly graced over the top of a sweatshirt that was Luke’s, one he had given you after ripping your shirt off the first time and you didn’t have anything to wear. You remembered the feeling of comfort you felt when you had it wrapped around your figure.

Just imagine if you could have that all the time. Like those girls from school that wear their boyfriend’s stuff.

But you knew that couldn’t happen, not with Luke. You guys had a deal, there were no feelings or attachments so you couldn’t afford to be fantasizing about a romantic life with him. You guys were friends with benefits, but you were barely even friends.

. . .

“Listen, I’m telling you y/n, this new teacher is evil,” Your friend complained, grunting at the end of her sentence. Laughing a little, you looked over at her as you arrived at your lockers, “he gave us a pop quiz on his first day. THE FIRST DAY!”

You winced slightly for her. If the teacher was willing to give her a pop quiz on the first day, you can imagine thorough tests in her future, and a lot of them. Putting your last lesson’s books in your locker, you turn towards your friend again, “That sounds rough.”

“It is,” She agreed, shaking her head wildly as she closes her locker over before checking her watch, “I’m late for class though, and you’re going to be too. I’ll see you later.”

With that, she walked away, leaving you to pull out the textbooks you needed for your next subject before closing your locker over, “Hey.”

Your eyes shot up towards the voice as you jumped back away from them in fright before realizing who it was. Luke. He wasn’t wearing his usual beanie, and instead was keeping his hair plain and messy, just like it was after sex, sweat making the strands stick to his forehead.

Eyes trailing down to your books, you muttered quietly, “I thought it was part of the deal that we don’t talk in school.”

“It is but you weren’t replying to my texts and I really needed you last night,” Luke sighed, making you raise an eyebrow at him, not that he noticed. It had been three days since the day you had let yourself out of his house and since the last time you guys had interacted in any sexual activities.

You had been waiting for the text that he would send that night, getting you to get over to his house after band practice but the more you waited, the more you thought about it. It had gotten to the stage you were checking your phone for any new notifications every few minutes, and finding yourself more and more relieved when the notification never came. Sure, you had found the whole friends with benefits great at the beginning but you started to long for a more...romantic relationship. And you certainly wouldn’t class fucking Luke in a public bathroom romantic.

“Sorry,” You sighed unapologetically, eyes never moving up to meet Luke’s eyes which stayed firmly on you, watching as you fumbled with your textbooks, “I didn’t see your messages.”

That was a blatant lie but Luke didn’t need to know that. You had seen his message pop up on your phone screen last night, but you never bothered to tap into it or to reply. You found yourself pushing you away from your phone, keeping it further than arms distance s your hands didn’t work against you, and message him back, so that you didn’t end up over there, tangled up in his sheets whilst he walked out on you again.

“Well I have a band performance tonight, I can text you the address and you can meet me there, we can head back to mine?” Luke suggested, leaning coolly against the lockers as he spoke, seeing a hesitant and faint nod coming from your ducked head. A smirk arose onto his face as he spoke quieter, leaning closer to you, “Or we can go into the janitor’s closet right now.”

Head whipping up to look at him, his hazel eyes meet your widened ones, his smirk growing even bigger. He pushed himself off of the lockers, hands in the pockets of his jeans but you took one step backward and further away from him, shaking your head, “I’m late for class.”

“Oh come on y/n,” Luke tried to coerce, giving you a small groan with a pout. He reached out for your arm, grabbing it softly and giving you a small tug closer to him but you stayed firmly planted on the ground you stood on.

Luke was good at a lot of things, and normally you would cave but not today. Sure, you wouldn’t be completely objected to meeting up with him later, even if you didn’t completely want to but you would not do it with him right now. He had gotten good at getting what he wanted from you, but he would not be getting this, no matter how many pouts and puppy eyes he gave you.

“No.”

Luke pouted again, giving you a mocking pout but you averted your gaze making him whine a little, “Oh y/n/n, you’re no fun.”

Turning on your heels you started to walk away from him, noticing how deserted the hallways were, and suddenly realizing just how late for class you were. However, you didn’t speed up, walking calmly as you shouted over your shoulder, “Send me the address for your gig, Patterson.”

. . .

Logically, you knew that walking to the venue that Luke was playing at was the best option considering he would be driving you to his place. You knew that your car would most likely be abandoned at the venue if you did take it, and Luke probably wouldn’t give you a ride to get it afterward so you decided to walk instead. That’s probably why you arrived a little too early, Luke still performing when you got there.

You couldn’t dispute that Luke was a very talented musician but you guys never spoke about his band or the work he did for it. You knew that music would forever come first to Luke, over everything and anything as that was what he was truly passionate about, and seeing him in his element finally was nice.

Somehow, he managed to find you in the crowds, subtly smirking at you but only so you could tell. His eyes didn’t stay on you too long, and you weren’t too sure if that was because he didn’t want anyone to catch on or if he simply didn’t care but you were thinking the latter. You were just technically a ‘booty call’ after all, even if the term made you feel sick.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before they all finished up and people filed out of the venue. You, of course, waited behind, knowing that Luke would not want to be seen getting into a car with a girl so you awkwardly waited about. It wasn’t long before the venue was practically empty, and you felt a ping of a notification causing your phone to vibrate.

go to the bar and ask for my keys, they know to give them to you

You texted back an okay before going to the bar and retrieving the keys, thanking the barman, and walking out to Luke’s car. There was only a handful of times that you had been in Luke’s car, actually, you could only count two. One was him driving you from where he met with you to a cafe because he left something there the previous day and one was from meeting up with you somewhere to go to his house.

You found yourself slouching down in the passenger seat of Luke’s car, head just peeking over the dashboard. The parking lot was pretty much abandoned, but you didn’t want to be caught by anyone in Luke’s car anyway, you couldn’t imagine Luke would be too pleased if you were.

Luke arrived out not long after, his hair slightly damp and you could only imagine that he had taken a shower out before meeting with you. How considerate. He took the car keys off of you, giving you a small thank you before he started up the car and started to drive without another word. You, personally, didn’t plan on breaking the silence, knowing that Luke did not like small talk so you weren’t about to start it.

Eyes trained on the road, you drummed your fingers on your thigh to the rhythm of the music that played quietly through the radio. That was until Luke pulled up at the side of the road. Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and turned towards him, “What? Why did you stop?”

He turned towards you, giving you a small smile before caressing your cheek slightly and going into the backseat. From his position there, he leaned over and kissed you on the lips with a lot of force, grabbing at your shirt and tugging you softly towards him.

Breaking away from the kiss, you looked towards him knowing exactly what he was indicating. Opening your mouth in shock, you started to shake your head, “Luke we can’t do this in your car-”

“C’mon y/n, live a little.”

It wasn’t long until you clambered into the back of the car with Luke, him attaching your lips again but you felt him smirk into the kiss. He helped you out of your trousers and smirked at you, making direct eye contact as he did so. Then he ripped your top off and threw it to the side.

He was on top of you soon enough, one of your hands in his hair and one trailing down his back. You were both in minimal clothing, both with simply your underwear on. His hand left your waist side as he fumbled to get something from the pouch in his car, pulling out a condom.

Pulling away, you turn to look at the foil in his hands, your lips parting slightly. Luke put the foil down, but your eyes stayed on it as a hand hooked under your face. Your face was shifted up to make your eyes meet Luke’s hazel ones. He silently asked if you were okay, making you nod your head and send him a weak smile before he kissed you again. And there, another night with Luke begun.

However, today it was different. Sure, you felt the pleasure of having sex with Luke, but the adrenaline, the addictiveness wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as good as you remembered it. You thought that maybe you were just having an off day and you just weren’t really feeling it today but the more you thought about it the more unappealing it became. Luke was attractive for sure and you knew girls that would pay good money, betray their best friends and drop everything for the chance to fuck the hottest guy in school but the want wasn’t there for you anymore.

Breathing heavily, you felt Luke get up from his position on top of you, grabbing his jeans that had been disregarded under one of the seats, putting his shirt back on as he climbed back to the front. You looked at where he was, clearly waiting for you to get dressed and that’s what you did, hesitantly. However, you felt a blush rise to your cheeks in embarrassment as you thought about it. Shit.  

“Everything okay, y/n?” You heard Luke ask, eyes catching onto his through the rear-view mirror. Despite the dark lighting in the car hiding your deep crimson blush, he could still tell you were embarrassed.

“Luke I forgot to pack another shirt.”

His eyes went wide as you bit your lip, looking down at your lap, your arms crossing over your chest, trying your best to cover your naked torso. He quickly clambered out of the car, going into the trunk and getting something without another word before reaching into the car and passing you something. His sweatshirt.

E/c eyes meeting his hazel ones, you looked at him hesitantly, to which he moved the sweatshirt closer to you, encouraging you to take it. So you did. Once you were fully clothed, you moved back into the front of the vehicle, and Luke slid back into the driver's seat and started the car up without another word.

It wasn’t long before he took an unfamiliar turn, causing you to furrow your eyebrows, “Hey Luke, this isn’t the way back to yours. I think you took the wrong turn.”

“I’m not driving to mine, I’m taking you back home,” He commented, noticing but not commenting on the wide eyes and parted lips that you sent him way. He knew that he wasn’t the nicest guy, or the most affectionate, but did you really expect he would abandon you to find your own way home in the deep hours of the night?

But unknown to him, you did. You expected him to drive back to his, maybe have sex again, and leave you to find your own way home. Or if you were lucky, would drop you off on the main road, and walk half of the way home. However, you wouldn’t say that to him. You knew that Luke wasn’t a bad guy and you certainly didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying something like that.

Once again, you both found your way into a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, simply listening to the quiet playing of the music on the radio. It was some punk rock channel because you knew how much Luke despised mainstream stuff. The only other sound you could hear was the occasional passing car.

“Hey, Luke?” You piped up, breaking the silence that the car held, despite the radio playing softly in the background. He kept his eyes on the road as he took another turn simply humming at you to let you know that he was listening, “Thanks. For the sweatshirt, I mean.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just give me it back when you come over to mine next time,” Luke said nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. Head ducking down, you simply nodded as you felt your stomach fall slightly, suddenly everything clicking into place.

You knew why you didn’t want to continue with Luke. You knew why you no longer enjoyed the sex anymore. And you knew exactly what you had to do.

. . .

It was the next day that you were sat outside of Luke’s house, apprehensive as to if you wanted to truly go through with this. Yet, you knew that you had to. With a parcel in hand, along with a small envelope containing a letter and your house key to Luke’s house, you walked up to the front of the house, going to place the parcel down. The overhang would protect it if it was to rain, or maybe you could just ring the doorbell and run away. Yet, in your moments of hesitation, the door was opened and you were faced with an older brunette woman.

“Oh hello, darling. Can I help you?” She asked, smiling sweetly at you. You knew exactly who this was, it was Emily, Luke’s mom.

“Yeah actually, you can,” You smiled sweetly at her despite your nerves, shifting front foot to foot. Despite knowing Luke for a while and being...involved with him for a few months, you had never actually met Emily before but just from the way she acted, you knew she was a great person. She was a real sweetheart to you anyway, “can you give this to Luke for me, please?”

“Luke is upstairs, you can give it to him yourself if you want,” She smiled back, stepping back almost silently inviting you to go into her house and deliver the parcel to Luke yourself.

However, that was the last thing you wanted to do. Having to awkwardly in person explain that you needed love and wanted romance, so you chickened out and wrote him a letter instead. But you knew that the letter would explain everything, and it would let Luke know that he didn’t do anything wrong, you couldn’t promise yourself that you would be able to do that in the heat of the moment. 

Profusely shaking your head, you held the parcel containing his sweatshirt out to her, “Oh no, no, no, I think it’s best I get on my way. I have stuff to do anyway. Thank you, Mrs. Patterson.”

“You’re welcome darling,” With that, she gave one last smile and you started to walk away, leaving her to close the door behind her. You made your way to the car, going in and sitting down but you just sat there for a few moments, looking over what just happened. Quickly, you pulled out your phone, going down to Luke’s contact and hovering over his name, thumb shaking wildly.

Biting your lip you quickly tap into it and block his contact. This was the way it had to be, you knew that. You knew that if he asked you to come over or if he texted you that you would cave because you were a sucker for his puppy eyes and always would be. It wasn’t a secret to you that you have feelings for him, it was always something you had considered even though it was firmly put that feelings were off the table. You just wished for him to hold you in his arms, to hug you, to kiss you with the same passion but also kiss you with tender love, to tell you that he loved you.

Yet, at the end of the day, you knew you couldn’t have him. He would never give you what you wanted, he wasn’t the hugging type; the date type. After all, he was trained for sin, and that was all he was willing to give. 

[lizacstuff]

Your thoughts on the epi? And the trailers? I'm loving the in love Edser! We've waited so long for this!!!

This episode was so fun and fluffy! I don't know about you, but I am enjoying the tone during this second season. A lot. I don't care how stupid the audition process was for the spot in the school, it gave us some very good comedy and a lot of USTy, sexy, flirty goodness.

And like you, I also love in love Edser!

Thankfully this episode was dominated by Edser, and with Kiraz at Granny's house we even got some alone time. The supporting characters were used to good effect this episode, Engin and Piril were the funniest they've ever been, Kerem and Pina served to poke Serkan about his mentoring style, and it was actually nice to have an excuse for Ayfer and Aydan to share a storyline again.

(more under the cut)

However, we'll start with Burak and Melo. UGH. I mean I love Melo and Elcin has done a really good job of showing Melo's heartbreak and trying to hide her melancholy behind her usual bubbly personality, but I really can't stand that it's over such a dud of a character. I know I'm a broken record here but Melo deserves better than this fool. Honestly, he's such a bland sad sack I don't really get why Melo loves him, Eda wants to be friends with him and Ayfer thinks he's so great she wants him for a nephew-in-law. Well, for Ayfer the only qualification is that he's not Serkan, so never mind that question.

However, maybe there's some hope? Before this episode it seemed certain they were heading in a romance direction, but the way he told her she was like a sister to him? Is there really any coming back from him saying that after he remembered kissing her? On the other hand we're barreling towards the end here and there's not really enough time to introduce anyone new for Melo (and no indication from spoilers that they have) and I'm pretty sure Ayse and the writers want to give her a romantic happy ending (although I'd be fine if they didn't and instead had her go off and do something entirely for herself like go back to school or travel or open a shop). So we'll see, because even with the sister line they left some room open because Kerem was the one who suggested he say that (it wasn't necessarily his own idea) and with Melo he seemed to be coming from a place where he assumed he had forced himself on her and she was angry because she didn't want it. Which we know is not true, so might be a misunderstanding that leads to something more. Anyway, I guess we'll just have to endure whichever way they go.

Personally, I like the Serkan-Kemal father storyline. I think it's a good way to add a bit of drama in the waning episodes, gives Serkan a bit of an identity crisis, interestingly mirrors his own situation with Kiraz, and it just makes sense with everything we know of the characters. Because were we seriously supposed to believe that someone as sniveling as Alptelkin sired Serkan? I mean Serkan is the epitome of BDE, he has an inherent charismatic and commanding presence. Sorry to the actor who played Alptekin, but he didn't really have any kind of presence, however Sinan who plays Kemal, does. They've done a great job of casting, because it just feels true. I believe Kemal and Serkan share genetics.

However, even before that storyline starts in earnest, it's interesting that Serkan was being a big baby, not wanting his mom with a man she clearly loves. I wish Eda would have pushed back at him a little more when he was going off that Aydan shouldn't pursue love at her age! Does he think he'll be out of love with Eda by the time he's in his 50s and 60s? Of course not! I'm guessing Eda, though, is just letting him blow off some steam and come to accept the relationship on his own terms. Don't get me wrong, though, after all the meddling Aydan's done with Edser, she more than deserves to have Serkan's opinion of Kemal negatively impact her!

Loved that Kiraz and Can found out first that Kemal is Serkan's father! Cat is out of the bag, Aydan, you can't make a deal with a 5 year old, lmao. It put a nice ticking clock on the whole thing and gave us some good comedic moments where Kiraz is speaking the truth and everyone thinks she's just really fond of the dude. Hee.

Also I enjoyed the Aydan and Ayfer moments. To be honest, I also used to enjoy their true friendship moments when we got them, like when Kemal first appeared and Aydan was freaking out and needed Ayfer and Seyfi around her, and when they were trying to hunt down Deniz after the fake wedding turned real. After so much animosity, it was nice that Ayfer recognized that Aydan was truly in distress and needed a friend and they were able to actually talk. Also we got some (mildly) funny comedy with the two of them and the school lady. Speaking of Ayfer, thankfully she finally realized some consequences to her actions in pushing Burak at Eda. She hurt Melo! Glad she finally opened her eyes to see what should have been obvious to her (Eda never saw him that way, and Melo obviously did) and apologized to Melo. I'd like it if she would apologize to Eda as well, (and Burak deserves an apology as well because she most definitely gave him false hope) but since Eda wasn't influenced by her we probably won't see that.

Switching to Eda and Serkan this episode gave us lots of good stuff. This was a great episode for showing us where each of them stood. Eda is terrified of getting hurt and trying to hold him at arm's length even while he clearly is inching back into her heart, and Serkan is dreaming of their future together, and taking every opportunity to tie them together. How much did I love Serkan admitting he was poking at Eda, and doig things to make her angry, just so she would talk to him? Interesting that he's doing it and love that he's being honest and admitting it to her. One of my favorite relationship dynamics between them is around "talking." In the very beginning Serkan did a lot of complaining about how much Eda talked and how she never shut up, but starting around episode 18 all he wanted was for Eda to talk to him. And this is just more of that. The thing he wants most is to talk to her.

Plus watching domestic Edser is just so much fun, I could watch their full grocery shopping trip in real time and be perfectly happy, lol. At the age of 35 it's time that Serkan learn how to do a few things for himself, I don't care how rich he is, so it's nice that we see him evolving a bit as he embraces the dad role.

The jealousy gambits, even as mild as they are, are getting pretty eye roll worthy since Eda and Serkan are living together, care so much, and obviously are still so hot for one another. It's a bit more understandable from Serkan since Eda is the one creating the barrier between them, but are we really supposed to believe that Eda is jealous of Deniz when Serkan is so obviously in love with Eda and planning their future together? Especially when he clearly can't stand Deniz and tries so hard to avoid her? I suppose it's to show us that Eda is in a jumbled state, her head is trying to keep space with Serkan, while her heart wants him badly and is scared he's going to take her rejections seriously. Even so it was quite irrational for her to get angry at Serkan for having lunch with Deniz when she ordered him to leave with her. Poor Eda is in emotional turmoil.

It was hard to tell with shaky translations, but I guess Serkan claimed to have been injured while rescuing Eda and that's how he talked his way into her bed? Impressively done, Serkan. Love it because it meant we all got to wake up to snuggly family, snuggling together. This gave us another glimpse into Eda's psyche, she wakes up first, and is clearly enjoying it and feeling at home in his arms, until the sleep clears enough and her head realizes she's not supposed to be enjoying it. But once again Kiraz knows how to handle her parents and their complicated relationship beautifully and fixes everything with a pillow fight. That is one smart cookie.

One of my favorite moments of the episode is when Eda is trying to convince Serkan to go to Aydan about the school. Eda knows that her big eyes still work on him, and they did. He still can't say no to her, another one of my favorite relationship dynamics of theirs. I'm super glad some things never change. Speaking of their visit to Aydan's, how great that they went to meet the horse without a name as a family, and then Serkan finally came up with the perfect name. Definitely a star.

Love, love, love that Serkan and Eda beat Engin and Piril when it came to the 'how well do you know your spouse' game. They may have been separated for 5 years, but they both have a genuine interest in the other, so they remember things, and they always made a much more compatible couple than Engin/Piril who have absolutely nothing in common. Of course I adored all the fake married hijinx this gave us, not to mention all the opportunities for Serkan to touch, kiss, and hold her. SO MUCH UST!

The heart-to-heart on the bench was well done and it finally gave us Eda opening up and telling him what's been holding her back. She's scared. Of course she is, the poor thing. Serkan might have thought he was doing it for her own good both times, but he ripped her heart out twice (not even counting all the heart ripping he did during amnesia) how could she not have fears? Of course she's afraid! Whenever she lets herself love him and be loved by him, it's ripped away horribly, and often in ways that feels like it's him doing the ripping. She can take into consideration the circumstances, which she has or else he wouldn't be anywhere near her, and still need time to be sure she's not just setting herself up to get emotionally demolished again.

For Serkan's part all he can do is keep being there, being honest with her, and showing he's in it for the long haul, which I think he's doing and which is why they are where they are at the end of this episode.

Engin and Piril's dance practice is probably the first Engin/Piril alone scene that I thought was genuinely funny and fully enjoyable. I can't think of another... message me if you think there is one, lol. Elsewhere, I saw some folks saying that Engin and Piril should have won the dance competition, because they actually danced, and Eda and Serkan didn't. LOL, you think? I'm pretty sure that was the point. That Eda and Serkan didn't really dance, all they did was get up there and turn their sexual tension and intense smoldering towards one another up to eleventy and won because it's that powerful.

It's sort of a metaphor for this whole series. Sen Cal Kapimi is 100% powered by their chemistry. Of course they can win any competition by just pressing their bodies against one another! They can turn a ditzy Turkish summer romcom that probably should have gone 13 eps into an international hit that's going on 50 episodes, just by looking at one another.

I'm glad that the school officials overheard their conversations and dismissed them, any organization that requires this of the parents, is going to be a lifelong pain-in-the ass, lmao. Also it was good to see Edser and EnPir make up by the end.

Now, on to that ending. I'm glad the subject of the tatoos was brought up, interesting that Eda kept hers until a few months ago. Also interesting that she moved it... can't blame Serkan for wanting to see it. Was that one great seduction line, or what?

I join with everyone who thinks it was a slightly awkward place to leave the episode. We only have 13 (probably) episodes this season, and we've only had one kiss so far. That was definitely a moment for a kiss. Part of me thinks they were going for the cliffhanger, what will Eda do? Will she kiss him or slam the door in his face? Tune in next week to find out! Except that audiences have to wait no time at all for the fragman and that makes any such cliffhanger moot. So what's the point? Have her pull him in, kiss him, and the show can end with them passionately making out and the door slamming with the camera outside the house.

Oh well, it is what it is, and we can only hope they pick up next week right where they left off. As for the fragman, obviously they are fully back together for this episode which means she lets him in to hunt for her tattoo. (please oh please give us that internet ozel because I don't think I can stand being online in this fandom if they don't. Thankfully I'm traveling next week and will be too busy to spend much time on twitter.)

As I said in another ask, I'm not surprised Serkan is barreling them straight towards marriage. When you know, you know, so why wait? Once they emotionally commit to one another, they need to just get married. No waiting for psychos to interfere, family to meddle, or tragedy to strike!

Seriously can't wait for a full episode of them together and Serkan figuring out how to propose. I'm also looking forward to the Kemal/Serkan stuff, it will be interesting to see how he reacts once the news sets in... should be a great episode!

[bangtanfancamp]

Into the Garden (JJK)

∴ masterlist

∴ series masterlist (part one of 2 )

∴ pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader

∴ word count: 5k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, dinner theater au? Lol

∴ warnings: none to speak of, eventual affection? sexual tension? Probable future make out sesh

∴ summary: It’s a Friday night out with your friends— a perfect opportunity to try out that mysterious new restaurant everybody’s talking about. Always game for new things and a good time, even you never expected to stumble upon the smart, incredibly handsome waiter you meet there who knows his flowers. Who knows where the night will take you now?

∴ vibey playlist that kept me company during writing

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“God, this place is gorgeous.” You gasped.

You felt yourself go still once you’d finally managed to push the heavy wooden doors open. Was it unreasonable to wish you lived in a restaurant if it looked like this? Because it was beautiful in here. Every corner was immaculately decorated- rich, emerald velvet in the waiting area, cognac wood floors, industrial light fixtures… each element carefully designed, but aged and warm, like maybe this place had been here forever, and you’d only just noticed it.

And the plants- there were plants everywhere, on every available surface. Shades of green wrapping and weaving around iron railing. Ivy crawling up the side of the exposed brick like nature was trying to take this luxurious place back for itself. You’d never seen anything quite like it.

This place was all anyone could talk about lately, but you’d never seen it first hand until tonight. It had been your coworker’s bright idea to get a bunch of the staff together and blow off some steam here this Friday night. She’d even wiggled her way into getting the company to pay for it by calling it a “team building experience,” a.k.a “let’s all get drunk together and moan about our problems on the boss’s dime.” You’d be skipping the alcohol tonight, but this place was a million years beyond your “guac at chipotle is a treat” personal budget and there was no way you were going to miss out on a free dinner here.

So far, no regrets as you wandered across the hardwood. You hadn’t even eaten any of the food yet, but it was already your new favorite place in the city on decor alone. And on top of that, you had something else to look forward to. Apparently, the hook here — not that it really needed one— was an upscale version of dinner and a mystery. You wondered how that was supposed to fit with this whole industrial utopia theme.

You hadn’t been to a restaurant that did a show with dinner since you saw Cinderella at a children’s dinner theater in eighth grade, but the shabby, primary colored castles of your memory clashed distinctly with the elegance of this place. The gaping imbalance made you chuckle. Sherlock dinner theater and artisanal hand glazed pottery seemed like an odd mix to you, but you were intrigued nonetheless, knowing you’d have fun whether the plot was brilliant or not.

After gawking an appropriate amount of time in the foyer, you realized you should probably check in for your group since you’d arrived first. Gliding through the Garden in search of the hostess booth, you found it hidden away beneath the shade of an almost prehistorically large fiddle leaf fig tree. You smiled up at the gargantuan plant, fingers tracing the edge of a leaf. If the millennial garden of Eden interior of the place hadn’t already been an indication, this alone reinforced what a miracle worker their main gardener must be.

Every fiddle leaf fig you’d ever owned had died many a gruesome death long before it ever even reached two feet, but this one almost brushed the exposed ceiling beams. You wished you could ask whoever was in charge here for some pointers, but they’d probably smell your plant mom failures on you from a mile away and decide not to waste their time. Plants just never seemed to like you back the way you loved them… oh well. That’s what plastic is for, you supposed.

Getting back to the task at hand, you leaned up on your toes to look for assistance, quickly noticing that the station was empty. Maybe they’re busy watering the crops, you chuckled to yourself wondering if this place really was pretentious enough to grow their own inventory-they certainly could- when you were suddenly greeted by the most stunningly handsome boy you’d ever seen.

“Hello, welcome to the Garden.” The living, breathing Adonis statue could speak apparently. You tried not to stare as he smiled back at you politely, his silky curls shagging about his face as he slid behind the hostess booth. Holy crap. Did they grow him in the back too?

He was beautiful- some undiscovered demigod with broad shoulders and a jawline so strong it could cut glass. He lifted his eyebrows pleasantly, waiting to assist. “I apologize for the wait—how may I be of service this evening?”

You couldn’t help the silly grin that spilled across your face when his wide chocolate eyes smiled your way.

“Um, Hi. I need a table for, lets see… 1,2,3,4...10 people I think?” You counted unashamedly on your fingers as the host’s lips quirked into a smile. “Oh! Actually, you know what? What am I doing—do you guys take reservations? My friend Beth might have called about us earlier?”

“Let me see…” The boy’s amused doe eyes drifted over a computer screen. You fiddled with the edges of a particularly plump succulent on the counter as you waited. “Here it is. Beth party of 10. Now usually when we have a group that big, we do offer the option of one of our private rooms. You guys would have your own separate narrative from whatever the main restaurant is doing….Would you be interested in that this evening?”

“Sure! Why not—that sounds amazing!” You answered, a bit too enthusiastically admittedly, but when his face lit up at your bubbliness, you found you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed. Not when a boy who looked like that was looking at you that way, all soft around the edges. Will you be there? you wondered.

“Okay, then you’ll come right this way. Oh! And you’ll need this.” Dipping into a crystal bowl behind the counter, he fished out a crisp white piece of paper and slipped it into your hand, fingers brushing over yours as he did.

Something in your belly reacted sharply to the contact. Apparently, the electric crackle affected him too. His already round eyes widened, a nervous chuckle tumbling from his lips as your cheeks blossomed a warm, soft pink.

Suddenly, a ruckus erupted behind you, crashing into the tranquil silence. You turned over your shoulder to see your friends piling in the tall front door, laughing and smiling widely at you.

Tearing his eyes away from you with a self conscious gulp, the host cleared his throat before leading you all back past fountains, lush greenery and elaborate floral installations into yet another beautiful space. This room was just as intricate as the rest of the restaurant, with its warm terra cotta-colored walls dripping with ivy and orchids, lit with the dappled light of melting pillared candles piled atop the elaborate raw wood table spanning the length of the room.

As everyone happily clamored to find a seat along the banquet table, you noticed your friend, Erik, crashing along its opposite edge. Erik had been a football player in college, some defensive position you didn’t know the title of. He was a mammoth of a man, his blonde Nordic hair making him look like an off brand, out of shapeThor.

He paid little to no attention to where he threw his weight around like a puppy who didn’t yet know his size. So when he dropped himself onto the neatly slatted bench (gosh, every detail here was dripping in aesthetics) and promptly leaned against the wall, crushing the intricate orchid display, you couldn’t help but laugh. You heard the host’s strangled gasp and giggled at the beautiful boy's wide eyes as his horror-stricken face went pale across the room. Before he seemed to realize he was even doing it, his feet began to march across the floor to say something to your friend, until his politeness overtook him and he froze a few feet away. He grumbled to himself as your friend carelessly peeled himself off of the bench, annoyed complaining about something scratchy digging into his back. The host was positively fuming as irritation ticked in his jaw, but His big brown eyes betrayed his disappointment and downright bewilderment as the bedraggled orchids limped back into place.

“No.... They’re ruined. Now what am I supposed to display?”  You heard him attempt to mutter under his breath, but his anger seemed to make his volume louder than intended. He was so flustered—it was oddly...kind of adorable. You couldn’t help but laugh. You knew your friend had meant no harm. He was a sweet guy, but generally oblivious, so things like this seemed to happen a lot. Chuckling under your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the strain in the host’s angular jawline, not to mention how good he looked with his eyebrows furrowed like that. Intense. It made you want to kiss the creases to relax him. Man, this guy was really getting to you...

Maybe it’s time to have some fun, you thought.

Leaning over the edge of the bench, you whispered surreptitiously, “Hey, maybe you should consider wheatgrass instead.” You sent a quick wink in the host’s direction, a thick cloud of giggles falling from your lips. Lashes fluttering , the poor guy seemed startled by your comment. He had been so wrapped up in blinders over his restaurant being ruined that he hadn’t realized anyone had been watching the entire interaction. For a quick second, embarrassment flashed over his features. The sudden chagrin on his face as he nervously ruffled his hair softened him. The Greek god of a man suddenly a soft, flustered boy. He looked so... sweet.

The whole scene gave you the oddest urge to pinch his cheeks and tell him how cute he was. But just as fast as it had appeared, the innocence in his wide eyes was gone, his composure swiftly resettling itself as his shoulders rolled down, his posture lifting him back up to full height. His confidence was back, and so was a lopsided smile that you decided you quite liked. “Might not be the worst idea.... certainly less overhead,” he sighed resignedly, hands hanging low on his hips as the tick in his jaw loosened, replaced instead by the beginning of a smirk.

“Much less upkeep. Less horizontal space. Equal level of pretension. I see no downsides,” you shrugged nonchalantly. You felt your own smile bloom wider the longer your gazes stayed fixed on each other. His eyes were dazzling- coffee brown and deep- as they glittered back at you. “I’ll look into it...might be a solid option. Have,” he hesitated. “Have you been here before? I don’t think I’ve seen you... I get the feeling I would have remembered you.” His face was so soft and unguarded, his pretty mouth just a bit too open as he searched his memory for a glimpse of you. You pulled your lip between your teeth as your smile threatened to grow.

“No,” you shook your head, hair bouncing around you. “It’s my first time here. First time for all of us actually. Hence, my friends lack of good graces with your horticultural displays.” you offered an apologetic shrug.

“May my orchids rest in peace,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “Not your fault though. You guys, uh, celebrating something?” He was suddenly too close for a stranger, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Oh, no. We just work in that massive upstart down the block. Kept hearing about the place, and Instagram kept hacking our feeds with ads for it so we finally caved. Figured we’d try it out. ” You waved across the table gesturing to everyone. There were all so deep in their own side conversations that no one seemed to pay any mind to you lingering oddly with the wait staff. “Glad to see the marketing is working out,” he chuckled. “Well...if it’s your first time, then you’ll need a proper guide through the story.” A glint of mischief sparkled deep in his chocolate eyes, and you felt something effervescent glitter up your spine in excitement. “I suppose we will.” With a bow from his hip and a nod, he turned on his heel with no explanation, leaving you to smile down at your menu like an idiot in his absence. Trying to read was pointless honestly. The letters might as well have been in Arabic as they swam across the page- you weren’t processing anything. Far too lost in a dreamy eyed splendor over the boy you’d just met until a bony elbow nudged its way between your ribs. “What was THAT all about?” Eileen’s eyebrows bounced with curiosity. “ I don’t know.” You answered honestly as your head shook. At this point, you were smiling so much your cheeks were beginning to hurt. “But my God, isn’t he CUTE?” You hid behind your hands. “Cute??” Eileen shoved you in the shoulder. “He’s not a corgi, y/n. He’s a grown man.” She bit her lip. “A GORGEOUS, full grown man....did you see him when he walked away? God, what a view.” You pressed your forehead into her shoulder and whimpered, “I knowww. His smile, those thighs, my god...and his butt. Did you see it? It’s better than mine.” You both fell into a fit of giggles.

“All I know is that if you don’t give him your number then he’s definitely getting mine tonight. Or anything else he’d like for that matter.” Your jaw fell open at her brazenness. “Hey! slow your roll. You can’t call dibs before I’ve even gotten his name!” you laughed.

“Then you better work fast, babe. Cuz butts like that don’t stay single for long.”  She tipped her head to the side matter of factly.

“Oh my gosh, shut up! You don’t know when he’ll come back. He might hear you.” You breathed.

“Let him. It’ll make my job easier.” She bit down seductively on her red straw. Swatting at her, you both giggled before back into the table’s office gossip.

Apparently, Elliot had shown up to the office wasted again today- either from getting trashed the night before or from getting sloshed the morning of, no one was quite sure at this point. Either way, everyone was annoyed as hell that he’d never get more than a slap on the wrist for it since his dad managed their branch. Nepotism still alive and well. Clearly.

Popping an entire potsticker in your mouth, your belly ached with laughter as Sean told you all how his assistant had accidentally walked in on two higher ups making out in the supply closet this morning and how traumatized the poor intern had been. He described in detail how the poor slob had still tried to get around them to get the extra printer paper, and what a mess the whole ordeal had been. He owed you a clean fifty bucks now.

With your keen eyes, you’d been the first person to be suspicious of them- you’d called it a solid month ago- and had put your money where your mouth was. You’d started the office pool that they were in fact a secret couple- a bet you’d clearly just won if Sean bleak expression was anything to go by. Lunch on him all week. Potstickers til i burst? Don’t mind if I do.

It had been a great evening, full of unwinding and bonding. So great, that you’d completely forgotten about the mystery element of the dinner. That is, until a crystalline voice spoke above you, snapping you to attention.

“Pardon me, everybody. But it’s time for the mystery of the evening to begin.”

Surprised, your eyes darted up to see the cute guy from earlier. He was standing right behind you. Your pulse spiked as he sent a smirk your way. What were you supposed to do with that? He was so close now that you could hear the fabric of his dress shirt rustle every time he shifted or gestured above you. With every movement, a burst of his scent surrounded you. It was something citrus, something fresh. A dizzy smile tugged at your lips as it enveloped you like a cloud. God, you wanted to bury your nose in it. You were such a sucker for a good smelling boy...

And this one was so in your personal space. Which should have been off putting, honestly. Especially since you’d barely known him for half an evening. It was a bold choice on his part, to get so close to you. It should have been a turn off. Should have. But it wasn’t. Instead, you found yourself almost vibrating with excitement at the proximity of him. Whatever this gravitational pull was around him, you were perfectly content to get pulled straight into it.

If you’d had the nerve to, he truly was close enough that if you tipped your body back just a few degrees you could’ve rested your head against his lean stomach if you’d wanted to… which, of course you did want to do… but you’d only just met him. So instead, you bit down to stifle your smile, eyes flicking over to Eileen who was just as giddy on your behalf.

God he’s so cute, you thought. Wait- is he still talking? Crap-focus, you scolded yourself, tuning back into his monologue.

“As everyone knows, we all have the same five senses. But what happens when we lose one? How does it affect our instincts? Our gut? How does it change the way we listen to each other?” he paced around the edges of the table, hands clasped behind his tailbone. It made his dress shirt bunch deliciously in all the right places, and you bit back a smile. It was getting harder and harder to hide your little infatuation.

“When each of you arrived,” he continued, “you were each given a character and a backstory- No one should know it but you- but only one of you received the card that said killer. Someone at this table has committed a murder, but who? Often, our eyes can deceive us, so as part of tonight’s story, your sight will be taken from you as you try to decipher the truth. Can you rely on your other senses, your hearing, your intuition to solve this case?” A few other waiters approached the table with baskets in hand before the room went dark- completely.

Not the “the lights are off but we can all still see” kind of dark. It was the “it's so black in here that you can feel it” kind of dark. The kind of complete nothingness you never get with the ambient glow of street lights and screens everywhere. It was heavy and consuming, the absoluteness of the suddenly inky black room.

Swirling your own fingers in front of your face, you saw absolutely nothing. Not even the glint of your own jewelry, and something fantastic bubbled up in you. This is going to be so fun. Your heart began to race in anticipation- you didn’t even know what for yet. You felt your knuckles wrap around the bench beneath you, bracing, waiting, holding your breath, wondering when the night would finally be-

Only to have your thoughts stop. Completely.

Each individual one of them halted in their tracks by the sudden contact of warm fingertips against your skin. The gentle press of a large set of hands melted into the tops of your shoulders, thumbs bracing on the back of your neck. It was him again, wasn’t it?

He squeezed once, tense and hesitant despite his obvious strength, like he wasn't sure touching you was the best idea, but he couldn’t back out now that he’d started. The delicacy of it left you buzzing. In the silence, the pads of his fingers sunk deeply into your skin, and your breath caught. You’d never been this grateful for off the shoulder clothing in your life.

“May I?” he asked, tone honeyed and sweet.

You realized he meant the blindfold you’d heard so much about before you came and nodded your head just once, tension sticking in your throat as you tried to swallow it down. It was only then that you realized he probably couldn’t see you in the darkness. You’d have to gather your wits enough to verbally respond. You hoped he wouldn’t catch the way the “yes” that left your lips was embarrassingly breathless.

You heard him hum in response, holding whatever was left of your breath as his fingertips slowly fell from the tops of your shoulders, dragging across the edges your sleeves like he was in no rush to let you go. It was a strange intimacy from a stranger, but to be honest, you didn’t want him to let go either.

Until, quick as a whisper, his warmth was gone, leaving you alone in the dark. The shift so abrupt that part of you wondered if you’d imagined the last thirty seconds. His lingering hands had fallen away so abruptly at the end. Where had he gone?

It all felt like a fever dream you’d cooked up, like your own subconscious was mocking you for wanting him so bad. For a second, you wondered if you should be concerned by how obviously attracted you were to him. Should you be ashamed by how quickly you welcomed his touch? By the way your traitorous body showed no intention of pushing him away? Maybe you should, but he didn’t give you the time to overthink it before he was beside you again.

“Jungkook.” He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

“What?” You breathed, face turning toward his sound in the blackness.

“That’s my name. Jungkook.” He repeated, his voice airy and soft. You hadn’t realized how beautiful his voice was until it was the only thing you had to focus on. You could feel that he was bent low, his chest just brushing the tops of your shoulders. You felt dizzy at the sensation of his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as a cool satin ribbon was draped over your eyes.

“In case you were wondering.” He whispered, pulling the edges of the fabric into a soft bow as he dipped to the other side of your shoulders. “But I’ll also answer to ‘guy with the butt that’s better than yours’ if you prefer.” His breathy laugh filled your ears, and you could practically hear him smiling. “Oh god, you heard that?” the back of your hand smothered your mouth, a smile emerging even as you cringed.

“Oh absolutely. Acoustics are insane in this place. It was kind of nice though... I mean, how often do I get to hear such a pretty girl compliment me ?” You could feel the rush of blood practically crashing into your cheeks. You knew the whole world would see you blushing if the lights were on. “I’m out of witty comments for that one.” “Don’t smile. You’ll mess up the blindfold,” he warned, the endearing softness in his voice undermining his words. “I’ll try. Don’t think I can help it though.” A satisfied hum left Jungkook’s lips as he pulled away and went back to the task at hand.

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And just like that, the mystery began with Jungkook as the narrator and weaver of your tale.

Your group had been given a story set in feudal Japan. Clashing samurai, feuding houses, forbidden love- Your friends all got surprisingly into it, losing their normal voices into the adopted lilts and pitches of their newfound characters.

It really was incredible the nuances you caught when you focused on your hearing. Jin’s voice, for example, was far more nasal than you realized. He had a tendency to react dramatically any time someone pressed him for details- clearly signaling how close they were to the truth the more he tried to hide it. Lina’s expressionless monotone was nearly impossible to read on voice alone, but it made her all the more fun to try to figure out. Despite focusing on the story, you couldn’t help but notice that while Jungkook had the entire table to canvas as he narrated, he still stayed suspiciously close to your side the entire time- like he couldn’t help himself. His fingertips would brush the fabric of your blouse when he’d pass. His taut arms would graze the swing of your ponytail as he walked by. He had no mercy on the fragile hummingbird flitting with wild abandon in your chest at each of his actions. In fact, you could hear the distinct note of something that sounded an awful lot like laughter in his voice anytime he gave instructions to your character specifically. Smug son of a gun. Soon, the story unraveled as it was revealed that Jin had, in fact, been the murderer. He was jealous of Lina’s love for samurai Hoseok and had killed him in a drunken rage but tried to frame Bobby for the dishonorable act.

With the crime solved, the lights were turned back on, a fuzzy halo emerging around the edges of your vision as a staff member came behind each guest to remove their blindfold. You were unsurprised when you were met with a gentle waft of clean citrus as Jungkook appeared once again to help you with yours. The warm pads of his fingers grazed your cheeks when he removed the satin ribbon. It was so quick- it was so hard to tell if it had been on purpose- before his touch was gone again far too quickly for your liking. “I must say, you were particularly clever.” He offered softly as he stood behind you. You dropped your neck back to look up at him, eyes wide. “Anyone paying attention would have known that wasn’t Bobby’s blade work.” “Still, most people don’t catch it on their first time through the story.” He tipped his head matter of factly. “Maybe I just had a good guide,” You winked, tucking your chin back to normal when you saw a faint pink color his cheekbones. He cleared his throat before addressing the table. “You’ll find your individual checks have been placed in front of you, along with a complimentary dessert. Thank you for dining with us this evening. It has been our pleasure.”

He bowed at the waist as he gave his farewell, making his last words spoken dangerously close to your ear. Adrenaline spiked in your veins at his proximity for the thousandth time tonight. As he returned to full height, another man approached the table, this one taller, leaner than jungkook, with a smile so innocent and wide it could have belonged to a child.

“Good evening everyone! How was your experience with us tonight?” His voice. It boomed like a clap of thunder. It was oddly deep for someone who looked so young. Everyone at the table chattered with random superlatives about how amazing the night had been as the man's smile glowed brighter.

“I’m so glad to hear it!! You had a real treat tonight- guided by our finest story teller.” Pride swelling in his eyes, the man clapped an embarrassed Jungkook on the shoulder. “Such a shame it might be the last story he tells here.” The baritone lamented. “What am I supposed to do without my partner?” The man used his other hand to clutch at his chest dramatically, face scrunched in distress, as you felt your heart free fall into your shoes.

Last story? “Calm down, Taehyung. You make it sound like I’m dying.” Jungkook rolled his eyes and swatted at the man. “You might as well be!” Taehyung huffed. “He’s leaving us tomorrow to start his new life! Off galavanting in the mountains somewhere with flowers and goats. Leaving all his old, true friends behind.” He wrapped an arm around jungkook’s shoulder, dragging him against his will into a side hug jungkook vehemently tried to escape. “Quiet down, bro. You’re making a scene.” Jungkook balked, face pale at the unwanted attention.

He’s…. leaving? Your stomach took a swan dive. No. But I just met him. How... where was he going? Your eyes fell back to the table as you steadied yourself.

You’d been so excited about where this all might go. It was hard enough to accept that you’d already gotten this attached to him. Let alone invested enough to be this disappointed…..but, you’d felt something so strong around him. The kind of glittering spark you hadn’t felt with another person in a long time, if ever.

Every time his eyes had lingered on you or his body had brushed against yours, a supernova had ignited in your chest. You’d spent the whole night going mad with the electric possibility of him- just to what? Feel like a fool for being infatuated with a stranger? Look like the naive girl you were, pining over a daydream?

This was ridiculous. You shook your head at yourself. This boy didn’t owe you anything. He was a stranger two hours ago, he’d stay a stranger when you left twenty minutes from now. But no matter how you tried to convince yourself, your poor heart still felt sick about it all. He’d just seemed so— you don’t know, special. So magnetic. And You’d thought he’d felt the same pull bringing him to you too.

Because why else would he have flirted with you half the night? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to lead you on if he knew it was going nowhere. An assumption you realized was a heck of a leap. You didn’t actually know anything about him, but somehow, something about that narrative just didn’t sit right with you. The look he’d had in his eyes each time he smiled at you tonight had seemed too sincere to be a lie. But from the way his loud friend was still talking, he made it sound like Jungkook was moving to the Alps.

So even if his sweet eyes had genuinely meant every smile tonight, was it really all for nothing? You knew the night was ending, and it was a long shot, but you’d really been holding out hope it might go somewhere beyond this. Apparently not. In an instant, he reappeared by your side, having broken free from the grip of his affectionate friend’s grasp. Jungkook dipped beside you once again as you stumbled to rearrange your now troubled features into something resembling disinterest.

“Hey, Sorry about that. But, I um, really do hope you have a great night. So your uh, your check is on the table.” His poise seemed a bit more rattled than before, but you were too glum to give it much notice.

You sent an out of focus glance in the ticket’s direction and nodded. He’d already told everyone that. Most of the table already had their debit cards out for their tickets. You didn’t know why he was bothering to mention it again when all you wanted to know was where he was going and if it was far.

“I um...didn’t get to catch your name earlier,” the smile he offered you was gentle, hopeful, as his wide brown eyes looked down at you. You felt yourself sigh withought meaning to. You’d have found the sheepish look in his eyes hopelessly adorable just a few minutes earlier, but now all it did was make your chest hurt. “Not a detail you need if you’re moving away though right?” You asked, a sadness creeping in your attempted smile. God, you weren’t fooling anyone. This was pathetic. His brows dipped at your response, confused by the shift in your demeanor. “I’m... I mean, i told you mine.” His gentle eyes tried to salvage the situation. The confidence he’d exuded all night was slipping away, a boyish vulnerability taking its place. There was no harm, you supposed. “Fair enough. It’s y/n.”  you conceded. “Y/n.” He repeated, like he was trying to make the shape a new habit for his mouth. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

The smile you gave him back was a limp, pitiful thing, but it was the best you could give. Half an hour ago, you definitely didn’t think him calling you pretty would have made you so sad. Compliments didn’t usually send you into a craving for solitude and halo top ice cream, but this one certainly did.

“Well, y/n, I may not be as far away as you think. Have a good night.” And with that he was gone.

Bummed, you looked over your shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. “Shoot. Well, that was a fast track to nowhere,” you sighed to Eileen, slouching in your seat. “I know. Bummer. Seemed like he liked you too.” Eileen commiserated. “Right? So it wasn’t just me? You could tell too?” “Oh, he was totally obvious about it! He  also gave you more ice cream than me. Shameless. Boy has no subtly.” You chuckled at her accusation, but sure enough, you did in fact have one scoop more ice cream in your jadeite bowl than the rest of your friends. This boy already knew the way to your heart.

“Still. Why act interested if you’re disappearing the next day?” You pouted. “Why show interest when he’s just a server you’ve never met before?” She asked pointedly, eyebrow arched as your eyes fell away. “People react when they feel something- and clearly you two were feeling something the entire night. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second....We don’t get to pick the timing of when we’re attracted to people, y/n. Nobody’s working with that kind of control.” Flopping onto her shoulder, you heaved a heavy sigh. “Again... you’re right. I just, I don’t know. There was just—something about him. He felt... special.” “He looked special in that outfit. Those buttons were crying.” She mockingly bit her lip as you swatted your napkin at her. “Eileen! Unhelpful! I’m aware.... I guess you just don’t always get to know where things could have gone.” You shrugged, wilting into her warmth. “I know, babe. Sorry.” She patted your head comfortingly.  You turned to your ice cream to heal the wound, accepting that beautiful Jungkook would just be a passing meeting and a quick deadend to nowhere. After polishing off your dessert, you pulled out your cash to at least leave him the memory of a good tip when your eyes caught on scribbled handwriting in the top corner of your receipt. Hey, I don’t normally do something like this, but there’s a place around the corner that stays open super late. Meet me for crappy coffee + good conversation at 11? -jungkook xxx-xxx-xxxx You choked on nothing as you processed what was going on.

“Eileen! Eileen!!” You grabbed at her sleeve. “What?? What is it?! Calm down.” She pried your clutching hands off her cropped leather jacket, brushing off any damage you’d done.

“He gave me his number!” You nearly shouted.

“What?” She almost spat out her cocktail.

“He gave me his number!!” You waved the receipt wildly in her face. “He invited me to coffee and gave me his number!!!” You squealed, shrieking at an octave usually reserved for wild piglets. “Shut up! No way!!!” “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh!” You rambled ecstatically. “But wait!” your face fell,“ we’re supposed to go out for drinks with everybody after.” “And? Is that a joke??? You see us every day! What are you doing talking to me?? Text him! Go meet your man, honey. I’ll cover for you.” She winked as she swung her purse over her shoulder. “Really?? I love you! I owe you!” You yelled as she made her way to the door. “Um, You really don’t, but I’ll never turn down a favor. Let me know how it goes. See you on Monday.” She waved back at you, flipping the platinum ends of her ebony hair over her shoulder. “Hey! Where’s y/n? Isn’t she coming with us,” Jin seemed to be the only one alarmed by your absence. “Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, dear. I’ll fill you in later.” She grabbed him by his shoulders and nudged him out the door frame. “Ooo, bulking up are we, Kim? Feeling solid these days.”

“Yes actually!” His face glowed. “I have been! But you know, muscle tone is 80% genetics anyway. You cant just make yourself handsome, you know.You have to be born this good looking to start with and work from there.”

She knew there was no quicker, sure fire way to get Jin off topic than to ask him about himself. Once that train had left the station, there was little hope if any of ever turning back.

Eileen really took one for the team there. “Call me” she mouthed back at you as they slipped off into the night. You chuckled to yourself at the scene, finally realizing the turn your own evening was about to take. You plugged his number into your phone and shot him a quick message. [10:35pm] Hey, how did you know I was always down for quality conversation? Moments later, your phone began to buzz. Jungkook [10:36pm] Just went with my gut ;)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[xyliane]

the many lies of kanzaki hitomi to her long-suffering best friend uchida yukari

summary: when hitomi is on time to their weekend coffee time, yukari knows something is up.

notes: because I utterly adore escaflowne in ways that I don’t know if I can truly describe, and the wonderful @wuzzyletoastermac​ recently finished the show, I couldn’t not attempt a post-series write-up about...the best friend who’s only in four episodes. (I just love van and hitomi so much). G, hitomi and yukari friendship, van/hitomi mention. 1450 words.

---

Yukari knows it’s something big when Hitomi makes time to meet for coffee on a Saturday. Normally, Hitomi—best friend since forever, national track star at the age of 18, certified social worker, truly wonderful person, etc. etc.—is off with her long-distance boyfriend, or coaching track, or coaching track with her long-distance boyfriend looking pleasantly befuddled at the whole proceedings. On a rare occasion, she’ll ask Yukari for help getting Van into what can politely be termed “normal people clothes,” and Yukari can spend most of the afternoon puzzling over Van’s absolutely bizarre accent and failing to get either of them to tell her where exactly in Greece she can find someone as hot as Van Fanel.

Hitomi swears up and down that they started dating while she was doing a study abroad in Australia her second year of uni, but that doesn’t explain why the poor man 1: doesn’t speak English at least on par with an average high schooler’s cram school classes, and 2: doesn’t own a single pair of jeans not currently in residence in Hitomi’s closet. The Greeks aren’t that weird. Besides, half of Yukari’s architecture clients are based in America. She knows weird. And even by those standards, Van is weird.

Not to mention there’s some nagging part of Yukari’s brain that seems to recognize Van. It’s bothered her since they first met, and the last three years have done nothing to assuage that feeling. How silly to believe that they met in a dream or a vision. That is certainly more Hitomi’s realm.

But he loves Hitomi. It’s impossible to unsee that deep unending well of affection in his dark eyes, the soft smile that makes him look ages younger whenever she’s around, how patient he is even when she’s determined to find the perfect sweater for a job interview or the exact right cafe she claims was there the last time she was in this part of Asakusa. Occasionally, he’ll even catch her before she wanders too far afield, hand tight on her wrist in a way that speaks both to his own nerves wandering around in a crowded city (again, Hitomi went to uni in Sydney, why is Tokyo that much different) and to the way Hitomi turns back to him like a flower blooming in sunshine, all blushing cheeks and bright smile and alive in ways Yukari only wishes she could feel.

So Yukari’s a little jealous. It’s hard not to be. If it weren’t for the occasional argument blowing Hitomi’s temper sky high and Van’s own anger coming out in blistering tension, or the way that Hitomi will sometimes spend more time complaining about the weekend she’d had with him than bothering to answer any of Yukari’s questions about where exactly they’d met up, she’d worry that Van actually was perfect.

Okay well, no one she has to force into jeans against their will is perfect. Especially someone who looks like that.

So Yukari has kindly deigned to meet with her best friend at their favorite cafe on a beautiful Saturday morning, despite everything (Hitomi’s boyfriend and Yukari’s desire to sleep until 3pm respectively). Something’s off.

And when she rounds the corner at 10am on the dot, Kanzaki Hitomi is already there sipping a latte with Yukari’s favorite sitting there, still steaming. Hitomi is never on time. For anything. Ever. If she is, it’s because of her long legs and bizarre luck.

Something is definitely off.

“Yukari! I got you coffee,” she says, bright guileless grin on her face.

Yukari sits and sips. Sweet, caffeinated bliss. She almost forgives Hitomi the hour.

Not enough to loosen her suspicions, though. “Hitomi, what are you up to?” she says once her brain is active.

“Ah, well.” Hitomi casually brushes non-existent lint off her jacket sleeves. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“Is it about Van?” When her best friend’s face turns a bright pink, Yukari’s eyebrows rise. “Is he moving here?”

Head shake no. Hm.

“Did he finally take his jeans home?”

Deeper flush.

“Are you pregnant?”

“Yukari!” Hitomi screeches, face luminescent and voice far too loud for the little cafe. A few of the other patrons, including some who clearly have had as much sleep as Yukari, turn and glare at them, and Hitomi clasps hands over her own face. Yukari tries to not laugh, really. “I’m—no. And if you’re gonna be a jerk, I won’t invite you to my wedding.”

Any and all feelings of malicious annoyance vanish in an instant. “You’re—Hitomi! Congrats! That’s amazing, when are you getting married? Where are you getting married? If Van’s not moving here, does that mean you’re—where is he these days, is it going to be big or small? What should my dress look like? Do you have the colors picked out?”

Hitomi giggles through her fingers, a little on edge and clearly overwhelmed. “That’s too many questions!”

“I can write them out in a list and email them if you’d rather.”

A high-pitched whine more like a tea kettle than a woman in her mid-20s erupts out of Hitomi, and she drops her face to the table in her best impression of a puddle of melted ice cream. “I wanted to tell you properly, you know,” she mutters.

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t let it slip on accident,” Yukari says. As much fun as it is to mercilessly toy with her best friend who completely deserves it, there are more pressing matters, particularly Yukari’s own calendar that she is going to completely shuffle around. “But before I spend the next three hours getting you to spill every detail, at least tell me when and where.”

Without moving her face off the table, Hitomi rustles in her purse, pushing a pair of envelopes at Yukari. The first is a classic wedding invitation, cream colored envelope brushed with elegant black kanji. It’s exactly what Yukari would have expected from Hitomi’s mom, who has handled the years after her husband’s death with astonishing grace. But the second…

The parchment—it’s too thick to be paper, fibrous and off-white and flecked with gold—is about as wide as Yukari’s hands spread apart, and covered in a mix of runes and curling symbols that spread across the top of the invitation like wings. In the center of the whole thing is burnt a diamond-shaped emblem with a winged dragon. It doesn’t look like any Greek Yukari has ever seen.

“Would you be the host for my reception? It’s in a month and a half,” Hitomi is asking, which under any other circumstance would send Yukari into delighted peals of laughter. She’s a planner by nature, and organizing something as momentous as Hitomi’s small wedding will be worth every moment of her best friend and her boyfriend making sappy eyes at each other.

“Of course I will,” Yukari says, distracted. Social work doesn’t pay enough for an invitation this fancy, and Van can’t even afford his own clothes. And it’s not in Japanese, or English, and is that real gold? “What is this?”

Hitomi rubs nervous circles around her latte mug. “Since Van’s not from here, and the only person who can travel is his sister, we thought, you know. One wedding here for me, one there for him.”

“Sounds great,” Yukari says, turning the parchment upside down and over onto its back, hoping that the meaning will magically appear. “Hitomi, I can’t read this.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, Yukari.” Hitomi passes a hand over the parchment, the ring on her hand glimmering bright pink in the sun, and the runes curl and shift before Yukari’s eyes like…like magic. Yukari resists the urge to rub her eyes. Magic isn’t real. Just like dragons aren’t, or friends vanishing into pillars of light.

Your presence is requested at The marriage of Van of Fanelia and Hitomi Kanzaki White, 12th Moon Present invitation upon arrival

“It’s almost like a destination wedding!” Hitomi says. “Will you come? Please? Only Mom and my brother can come, and you know Sota hates this sort of thing.”

The things Yukari does for Hitomi. “Of course I will,” she says. But before Hitomi can relax too much, she reaches across the table and grabs her best friend’s hands, digging in just a little too hard. “But Hitomi, for once, don’t lie to me about this: where on earth is Van even from?”

Hitomi gives a little hiccup of a laugh and refuses to meet Yukari’s eyes. “So, funny story…”

——

“You owe me so much cake, Kanzaki Hitomi.”

“I promise, at least one at the wedding!”

“Each wedding.”

[elisaphoenix13]

Don't Touch Me

His day had been pretty miserable. He had a pop quiz in Spanish that he wasn't entirely sure he passed, he had to keep Harley out of a couple of fights, and on their way home from school...it started raining. Heavily. He and Harley were soaked the first minute they got off the subway and headed to the tower. Except this time there was no cat to rescue. Tibbs would probably think they looked like drowned rats when they got home and Peter wouldn't blame him. He felt like one at the very least and if Harley's grumbling was anything to go by, he did too.

"Think someone will make us hot chocolate?" Harley asks and Peter shrugs.

"If they haven't already."

Once they arrive at the tower and enter, they make their way into the private elevator and Peter once again apologizes to the receptionist for the watery mess they leave behind. He always apologized and she always waved him off with a smile, but he was raised to have manners. If he wasn't polite, he was afraid Ben and May woukd be rolling in their graves and quite possibly come to haunt him. Ever since meeting Stephen and listening to his stories of whatever he encountered, ghosts didn't seem as far fetched as he used to think.

When they reach the penthouse and the elevator doors open, both boys grin when they find Wanda in the kitchen and holding two steaming mugs out in their direction. They throw their backpacks toward the stairs and rush over to each take a mug of hot chocolate in enthusiastic gratitude, and Peter sniffs his suspiciously. Wanda smiles softly at the action.

"No mint. Marshmallows are on the counter." She adds and walks toward the elevator.

"Thanks again Wanda!" Peter says and she waves over her shoulder before disappearing onto the elevator.

He turns toward the bag of marshmallows on the counter and cackles when he finds Harley's  cheeks stuffed full like a hamster as he actually adds some marshmallows to his hot chocolate. It was probably only because he couldn't fit anymore into his mouth.

"Hey! I want some too!" Peter gives Harley an unimpressed look when the older teen grabs a single marshmallow and drops it into Peter's mug. "How generous of you."

Harley ignores him to munch happily on the fluffy sugar currently in his mouth and Peter steals a few more from the bag to put in his mug before chugging it down. Seconds after he drains the last few drops, a portal opens up near the living room and Peter sets his empty mug in the sink so he can go greet the sorcerer that steps into the room. Peter doesn't even make it three feet from Stephen though before the man throws out his hand to stop the teens approach.

"DON'T!"

Peter freezes at the tone and even Harley was on alert at the uncharacteristic shout. They both study the doctor curiously and notice him practically curling in on himself, his hands shaking violently, and if Peter listened carefully, Stephen's thundering heartbeat. He even had a wild look in his eyes that looked both pained, tired, and frightened all at the same time and it had both boys worried.

"Mom?" Peter asks carefully and Stephen flinches when he tries to move closer.

"Don't touch me." The man whispers and immediately breaks Peter's heart as Harley asks FRIDAY to get Tony.

Did he do something wrong? His spider senses weren't going off like they had with the evil version of Stephen, so Peter knew that this was the right one, but he was keeping Peter away. The sorcerer just mumbled to himself and flinched away whenever the teen tried to get closer and it hurt. The hurt got even worse when his father showed up and was able to get much closer to Stephen, and only made him wonder if maybe he was the cause of Stephen's...pain. That was what this all looked like at least.

"Honey?" Tony soothes as he slowly reaches out. "What happened baby?"

He stops for a moment when Stephen flinches again but reaches out again until he's gently cupping the other's cheek. Stephen whimpers at the touch and it turns into a sob as he continues to mumble almost incoherently as Tony tries to make out the words. Even Peter was having trouble figuring out what Stephen was saying and he had enhanced senses. Words sounded like 'door room' and 'dorm mom' was all Peter could put together and when he told Tony, his father's eyes widen.

"Stephen? Did Dormammu come back?" Tony ask gently and winces when he gets a single sharp nod as an answer. "Was is just like last time?" Another sharp nod. "Okay. Okay. I'm going to touch you a little bit more so we can get you up to bed alright?"

Peter and Harley watch Tony lead their trembling mother up the stairs to the master bedroom, and Peter climbs the stairs himself minutes after to go up to his own room. Watching Tony be able to touch Stephen with little problem and hardly any protest or repercussions was a bit of a blow for him. It made Peter think that Stephen didn't trust him at all. He knew that was a stupid thought, but the relationship he had with the sorcerer was important to him. Just like his relationship with Tony. They were his parents, and he really wanted to do whatever he could to help them and prevent the possibility of losing them.

From what Tony said downstairs, he lost Stephen several times again and didn't even know it. He and Harley were griping about the rain when Stephen was fighting off a powerful deity by putting it through a time loop again and dying endlessly. Each death more horrendous than the previous one. Deaths he only knew as little detail about as Stephen could possibly give him when he told the family about his first encounter with Dormammu.

"Pete?" Tony raps on the door with his knuckles. "Can I come in?"

"...sure." Peter responds quietly and his bedroom door opens. Tony walks in and closes it behind him before sitting on the bed next to Peter and putting an arm around him to pull him into his side.

"I know what you're thinking. Mom doesn't hate you or anything like that."

"He wouldn't let me touch him."

Tony exhales through his nose. "He's a little touch averse right now and he didn't want to accidently lash out at you. He'd much rather take that risk with me than with you or Harley. If he hurt either of you--"

"He would never forgive himself." Peter finishes softly. "Is he going to be okay?"

Tony stares ahead at the Star Wars poster on the teen's wall. "Eventually. It might take a day or two of TLC on my part, but yes."

"...okay."

Tony pats his back and tells him and Harley to order pizza when they get hungry, and then kisses the top of his head before he leaves Peter's room. Access to the family floor was cut off to everybody who didn't live on it for the rest of the evening so Stephen could rest quietly. It didn't matter that the room was sound proof. The fewer problems they had to deal with, the better. Harley only left the floor once to get the pizza when it arrived, and he and Peter binged watched a tv show while they polished off the pizza. Thankfully Tony went down to get some for himself and Stephen before they dug in, and they went up to bed when they both started to nod off in the middle of one of their episodes.

Peter didn't rest well that night, and he only knew that because when he woke up in the middle of the night, he found himself standing in the middle of the living room. He knew for a fact that he had fallen asleep in bed, so that and finding Harley standing nearby and watching him closely was proof enough that he had been sleepwalking again. It very rarely happened.

"What are you doing down here?" Peter asks  and Harley sighs.

"Making sure you didn't hurt yourself. I didn't know you sleep walk. You scared the crap out if me." He admits.

"It uh...only happens when I'm stressed or upset...or both."

Harley nods and picks up Tibbs from one of the couches and hands him to Peter. "Here. Take your cat and go back up to bed. Don't fall on the way up."

That was as nice as Harley was going to get and Peter wasn't about to make fun of him for it right now. Harley could have left him to bump into furniture or hurt himself, but he stayed and watched Peter just so that wouldn't happen. He may act aloof and like he didn't care, but Harley had a big heart. Nothing like Peter's of course, but he was nice in his own way. He cared about his family, and like Peter, would do anything to keep them.

So Peter goes up to his room and goes back to bed.

True to Tony's word, Stephen was more amiable to touch and mingle when a couple of days had passed, and the first thing he did was crawl into Peter's bed. All of the stress and anxiety that the teen didn't even realize he was feeling or had went away after he exhaled from a deep inhale. Tea leaves and incense calmed his nerves as well as the slightly trembling fingers that weaved gently through his hair. Tony had tried to spend some time cuddling with Peter over the past couple of days, and it helped a little bit, but there were just some things that only Stephen could do. Everything about his embraces and cuddles were firm but gentle. Tony's were more...secure than soothing.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away." Stephen says quietly into the top of the teen's head. "I imagine what I was feeling was what you feel during a sensory overload times one hundred...if I had to explain it."

"Yikes. Remind me not to complain next time I have a sensory attack." Peter half jokes and Stephen chuckles quietly.

"You're allowed to complain. It may not be as severe as that...or maybe it is...but you experience it more often."

"Are you sure you're okay now?"

"...I'm much better than I was." Stephen admits. "Your father was a big help and incredibly patient."

They lay there quietly for a few minutes, the only sounds Peter heard being Stephen's calmer heartbeat and Tibbs purring at the end of his bed. The calm atmosphere was only temporarily interrupted when Harley came into the room to lay on the bed on Stephen's other side, forcing the eldest of the three to lay on his back so both teens could curl into his sides.  The peace lasted for another few minutes as they both enjoyed being able to cuddle Mama Bear again until Harley eventually opened his mouth.

"Mom hog."

Peter grabs a loose pillow and whaps the other teen with it, and Stephen sighs.

"It's a miracle the quiet lasted as long as it did."

[bijoulilou]

If Jude's parents still lived pt 3

Days had passed since that night. When I awoke, I was in my own bed, Taryn sprawled on the floor. I had deduced that we had come through my bedroom window on the second floor. Vivi answered my question by throwing it open herself and crawling through gracefully. She had given me a triumphant expression that I couldn't help but complement with a tired but relieved smile.

I didn't bother running that morning or any other after that. Dad noticed right away and asked if something was wrong. I merely replied that I was exhausted. But it wasn't true. None of it was. As I sat at my desk taking notes for history, my mind starts to wonder if I should join a gym or run around the track something falls out of my book. My eyes widen and I slowly reach to pick it up off the floor.

A black feather, the plumage so dark its iridescence shines between a purple and blue twirls between my fingers. I look up to see if anyone notices but they don't. I quickly place it beneath my notebook and turn the page to continue with lecture. There are scribbles there, too elegant to be my own, written anecdotes that don't make any sense. At least not to others like me. At end of the page there's a familiar one, Tayrn and I used to wonder aloud what it meant growing up and Vivi would tease us with a possible answer.

Why is a raven like a writing desk?

I remember Cardan tangling his arms through my own as we danced. The honeyed wine I was warned against drinking, the hungry eyes that gathered around and reveled in my humaness. How tired I became and the way we sat and talked for what seemed forever.

I glance at the page until class is over, I try to push the thought of it out of my head for the rest of day. After school, practice is a welcome distraction from the constant buzz of senior nonsense. During this time I don't have to worry about college admission, scholarships or be invested in Taryn's clique drama. She eats up the attention and admiration from everyone, particularly when she gets casted for a lead in a play. When we went back to public school, there was this expectation that it was going to be weird. After watching hours of television, with plotlines revolving around outsiders being rebuked by the general pop--it was natural to be wary. But no, not many people cared if we were homeschooled for a bit. They found us interesting and entertaining. I remember Taryn glowing with pride when our classmates would invite us over to their table for lunch or to hang out after pickup. I was bored and preferred Dad showing me his creations or mom her medicines. It amazes me how right the weapons always felt in my hand, especially the weight of the sword. Dad beamed and said I looked like a knight, I think that's why I took to sports so easily, I played other sports in the off season to stay in shape and ready. Mom would lecture us when we'd play with wooden swords about strategy and cunning. Vivi would leave the room, she didn't want to hear stories of battles that didn't happen or the undercut ways to win wars. But the way mom would describe would sound so real, she'd stop talking about when dad came in the room. Mom would wipe us with poultice and make us strands of hawthorn and rowan berries when we'd play in the woods. After we started hanging out with other children she'd stop doing it as much.

A teammate of mine had tackled the lights out of me, I felt the wind get wicked out of my lungs. This wasn't like me, to be here but not totally here. To be absentminded.

In the locker room, after a very long cold shower and scaring some of my teammates with my scowl, I slowly get dressed.

"Pick your poison." Katie, dark haired with deep bronze skin holds up a kinesthetic tape and baby aspirin. I pick the aspirin, taking two with a swig from my water bottle. Katie hands me the tape anyway and I reluctantly start to wrap up my ribs, hissing during the process. The phrase sticks in my head, like a rhyme.

Pick your poison.Pick your Poison.Pick your--

"Do you want to go to Laken's party tonight?" Mara asks us. She's the one that tackled me out on the field, she gives me an apologetic expression. I throw a pair of dirty socks at her and call it even. Mara accepts this with a wrinkled nose and sits next to me, waiting for our answer. Katie nods, we were going to go hang out at a coffee shop and do homework. But after today, I can blow some steam.

"Let me just drop off my bag at home at first." They both give me an unimpressed eye roll. They suspect that I'll bail, I'm not a huge fan of Laken's parties. They tend to get out of hand, not in a fun way either. "I gotta run it by parents first, you guys know how my mom hates texts."

They nod. It's only half true that , mom hates when we text her, she'd prefer seeing our faces with face time or in person. She's been wary about us being on our own as we get older. Dad usually covers for us, like he did for that night in woods. He thinks mom worries too much.

"Hey Jude, there's someone here for you." One of the junior girls notifies me. My brow furrows in frustration. Taryn can be a real priss sometimes, she detests coming into the locker room. Taryn complains of the smell, but I swear the boys locker room's stench wafts all the way to the tennis courts.

Katie gives annoyed snort, " That sister of yours is a piece of work."

Before I can defend Taryn, Mara interrupts and says she'll walk me out and makes us confirm that we'll meet up later. Katie and I give a half hearted okay. When I try to hand Katie back her wrap she tells me to keep it. I give her a thanks, which is rare. We call it a truce.

As we're walking out Mara starts to ask me what's the deal between Katie and Taryn. I explain that those two have always been at odds since middle school. Taryn accuses her of being a nag and a bore, Katie says that she's pushy and manipulative. Mara sighs, but before she can say anything, a slight girl with thick cloud of white hair greets me. Except she's not a girl.

Mara waves goodbye, telling me she'll hopefully see me later at Laken's party. My visitor greets me but I can see through disguise. A boy in passing gives her a hooded look, she responds by winking. As she retrieves a beanie from her back pocket, he looks back repeatedly hoping to catch her eye. She's oblivious, or probably doesn't care, as she asks me to follow her. Without hesitation, she grabs my hand to lead me anyway.

Not sure why, but I follow her. I could easily take her, magical being or not. We walk the past tennis courts cutting through the now empty fields to some abandoned benches. There's a slumped figure sipping what seems like a slurpee, the closer I get i can see that he isn't human either. His crooked nose hangs at a strange angle while his skin has unhealthy green gleam beneath it. I ask if he's alright and she grins like it's a joke. She whistles and he looks up but I see another figure shoots up like a bullet.

I stop, unable to help my jaw from dropping. Its Cardan dressed in casual clothes like his companions.

"Are you all actually dressed in regular clothes or is that glamour?" The three of them stiffen. "Is everyone really that surprised that I figured that out? I mean my sister is one of you. Half of you?" I wave off that math problem and face the one at hand.

"Ah. Yes and no." Cardan admits, the other two don't know how to process his open honesty. He makes introductions, "These are my acquaintances, I trust them with most things and I hope you do the same. This is the Bomb and the Roach." The male does a little curtsey while the female does a flourish with her hat as she bows.

"Fancy," I admonish," I am Jude as you all know." I bend my knees a little and awkwardly wave. Cardan beams and I start to notice all the little details. He's wearing an outfit that seems oddly familiar with a few tags sticking out. The Bomb and the Roach's attire look worn and inconspicuous.

"Funny, I would have thought you referred to as the Queen." The Roach points one of my many embellished sweaters I have on. An oversized maroon pullover with my nickname scrawled in gold on the sleeves and crown on my chest. Dad gave it to me for Christmas. There's a knitted cal that's meant to look like a crown at the back of my closet. I wear that after a game to show good sportsmanship.

"Yeah. Hey, I've seen that before. Did you get that off a mannequin at Target?" I squint and start to pull off the tags. Yep, definitely from Target. I notice the venti spiked black matte Starbucks cup in Cardan's hand. "DUDE! I've been saving up to get that. Where did you get this?"

"I just happened to come upon this today." Cardan casually shrugs but the way he phrases it sounds strange.

" You took this from someone didn't you." I can imagine him on his way out of the store with bags in hand, spotting this cup and taking someone's order.

"It was there in the open, nobody had claimed it. I assure you." Cardan rises and beckons me forward. "Did you get any of my messages?"

Before I could answer, the Bomb steps in. "Your highness, perhaps it be a better idea to have this conversation in closed quarters."

Cardan assess her but agrees with a tilt of his chin. "Jude, would you join me?" He extends his hand towards me as the other two turn to leave into the woods.

"Where? Wait where are they going?"

Cardan sighs and extends his hand again, "Do you trust me?"

Without hesitation I hand him my bag and say, "No. But I've got questions. Perhaps you can fill me in." I take his hand instead and start leading him away from the forest and start dialing my mom's number. I press a finger to my lips, gesturing for him to stay quiet. Mom picks up on the third ring, opting for face time.

"Hey mom. My friends and I are going out to eat and I might spend the night at Katie's. Laken's having a party." I roll my eyes at the last bit.

Mom tucks her hair behind her ears, revealing the seashell drop earrings Taryn gave her for mother's day. With a grimace, she calls Laken an awful child which prompts her to ask questions. Where's Taryn? Have I heard from Vivi? Why am I going to said awful child's thing if I detest it so much? What's the point of having so many children if they dont keep an eye for each other?

While I answer her questions with mostly shrugs and half hatched answers, Cardan observes the contents of my backpack. I throw my shoe at him, quickly hanging up before my mom can hear his disapproval.

"You should be so lucky." Cardan sighs and pulls on a beanie with my name emblazoned on it. Taryn made that so people don't confuse us, I'm not that narcissistic. "Ah, there it is. So you did get my messages." He flips through my notebooks and pulls out what looks like the feather I found in class today.

Cardan zips up my backpack while I decide what's the best course of action.

"Is it safer if we go to a human place to eat or your potential hide hole?" He cocks an eyebrow in my direction. "I only assume it's not where you actually live. I doubt I'm welcomed there."

Cardan fixes upon me, measuring my pause and I'm afraid he can hear how fast my heart is beating. I put my hand on my hips, relieved that I left my sports bag in my locker. All that weight might slow us down again.

"Let's go somewhere safe for the both of us." Cardan gestures and I take his hand to lead us to the diner.

We walk at a leisurely pace as Cardan takes in the sights and observing my kind in their natural habitats. We make it to the Moonlight diner to find it mostly empty. I lead Cardan to a booth and wait for the waitress to greet us.

Watching Cardan bounce on the seats and dump the sugar out of the canister prompts me to apologize and order water and napkins. The waitress is not amused by my companion's peculiar behavior. I mouth that he's an exchange student before she walks away. Cardan flips through the menu, catching the reflection off the laminated surface, he starts to flip it back and forth.

Repeatedly.

When the waitress returns I ask for more time. With an annoyed look she leaves us and I slam my hand to stop Cardan from playing with the menu.

"What do you recommend?" Cardan sits forward with his hands under his chin, upset that I ruined his fun.

"The cat tendencies with you." I point out and then quickly add,"If you have a sweet tooth then I suggest the pie a la mode or a milkshake." He holds a hand up and asks for both.

When she comes back I ask for two order of the pie, a vanilla milkshake, and coffee. I'm going to need the caffeine.

"So...where to begin?" I muse bringing the cup of black coffee to lips. My eyes flicker to his as he's sipping his water. Cardan makes a face but keeps sipping it anyway.

"Let's start with my unanswered messages." Right then the waitress, Cindee, as it says on her name tag brings Cardan his milkshake. An expression flies across her face as she catches the last bit of our conversation. She walks away thinned lipped, intrigued by our table.

With a clearing of my throat I explain that I haven't a clue about what he's referring to. I raise my legs to put my feet on his seat. Cardan's eyes fall on them and he asks about my knee. I tell him that it's better, I hardly notice it at all. What I don't tell him is that I saved the scrap of cloak that he wrapped it in. It's locked away in my jewelry box.

"Those riddles and rambling in my notebook...the feather, were those what you're referring to?"

Once again, Cindee chimes in with our food. When I thank her, she slowly retreats away to tend to somebody else.

"That and other things. What about the others? I had them delivered on your walk home and at your window." When he sees my confusion he reaches for my backpack and retrieves an acorn. Before I can ask how that got in there, he pops the top off and reveals a thin scroll of parchment with familiar scrawling.

"Is that why I keep finding acorns everywhere?!" I take it and hold it up to the light. Sure enough it's a message from Cardan about how he missed me for my morning run. Asking if he could join me. I try to imagine Cardan running and instantly laugh. He does not find this amusing.

"I sent them in pinecones and on ribbons. Imagine my surprise when I heard you finally came upon the ones I wrote upon your notebook. That's why I sent the Bomb to meet you. The Roach helped me blend in, you pointed out that my usual attire can be distracting."

"Sorry, I still can't wrap my head around the pinecone thing." There's a few that I found on the other side of my windowsill, one just this morning. Cardan makes crude noise. He tells me not to apologize ever to a faerie, especially himself. I reach for the extra milkshake cylinder and take a spoonful. Make sure to keep that in mind.

"What did you want to tell me that you couldn't tell me in person?"

One of Cardan's ears peek out of the beanie as he sips on his milkshake. I glance at it quickly before looking out the window. When we were little, Vivi let us touch her ears. The childish urge to trace them surfaces and I silently repress it. Sitting on my hands, I wait for his answer.

"I wanted to make sure that I was keeping up with my promise. You asked me to refrain from stalking you and I didn't want to offend you."

I turn to face him with a softened gaze, "Me too. I mean, I was half expecting you to show up at my window. I'm pretty sure Locke has been visiting my sister. Taryn doesn't want to admit that he can't tell us apart. " I recall how he called taped on my window one night and I threaten to push him off the roof.

Cardan bursts out laughing, the beanie falling off his head. Without missing a beat, he reaches to put it back on. His cheeks are rosy and I can't help the corners of my mouth from tilting up.

"I must admit, I was...wary of Locke being around. He tends to fancy himself a charmer."

I think back to the party, as Cardan and I conversed in the dark, from the corner of my eye I saw Locke talking with the blue haired girl.

"He doesn't sound like a good friend to me. I couldn't help but noticing the way the blue haired girl glared at us. They seemed to be talking half the night." I take a spoon and being to dig into my melting pie a la mode. "Was she an ex of yours?" I ask point blank.

Cardan frowns, "An ex?"

Taking a bite of the pie and melted cream, I supply the phrases 'ex-lover' and ''ex-girlfriend'. He nods and I can deduce that Locke had everything to do with it.

"Makes sense. I thought only girls on the field wanted to melt me with their eyes. Now I got a mermaid out to murder me."

Another chuckle leaves his lips, "It truly surprises me how quick you are." He uses his spoon to taste from my plate and I slap it away with my own. The metal clanging hirts my teeth but this is my life's honor I'm defending. He reaches for it anyway and I smack that back of his hand with my spoon this time. "Young lady, may I remind you that this is a prince you are dealing with. Most would find you bold--"

"Most do find me bold, dear prince." And I rapidly take a spoonful of his cherry pie and smile triumphantly at slight of hand.

Cardan does not find that amusing, "I've punished others for less you know." His voice is laden thick with warning and I serve him an equally cool tone.

"As have I. Though you are a prince, as funny as you may find, many consider me queen. This is my domain sort to speak and you are my guest. I expect you abide by our customs as most would yours."

His eyes darken at my words and he rapts his long fingers on the table. "If our roles were reversed and you were amongst my people instead of yours, would you pay me the expected respect of my title?"

"If you behaved as a faerie of your title should, with just and fairness?" I ask and he gives a little nod," If you didn't provoke or threaten my livelihood I might abide by those natural laws of your world. But that is neither here nor there. Besides, I can't imagine a situation were I would even get that close to you, much less be accepted under your court."

" Jude, even you with your lightly heeded title are respected amongst your peers. Though my kind are by your definition unpredictable but we still abide by rules and Mark's of respect. There are exceptions at my court, under my father's rule nothing quite surprises me. A human to be accepted as part of the gentry, it's not unheard of."

I'm not convinced, "Okay. Give me an example. A real example not something that you heard some inkling of from centuries before." I play with the last bits of my food the conversation turning my stomach as our light attitudes are dampened by what goes unsaid.

What a ridiculous notion, to fall in love with a person from a different world.

Cardan chooses his words carefully and he begins to trace the lines of my open palm. I've realized that he does this as a distraction and come to find all these excuses he makes to touch me. As if I might disappear like a whiff if smoke. He observes a garnet ring that I have on my ring finger. It belongs to my mom, theres an insignia on it. Honestly it could be anything for that matter.

"Actually, there was a general. A Red Cap that married a mortal." Cardan picks apart my fingers, memorizing their shape and intricate grooves. "I've been told that my mother was great friends with this woman, which is rare for such a mortal to not only be accepted but recognized as his legitimate wife. Those two would be at the center of it all causing mirth and chaos. One day the general comes back from battle to find his residence burned to the ground. His wife and child burned to ash."

I pull my hand away from the story. Something about it sounding so familiar. My voice is quiet and I manage to keep the quake out of it when I ask him to continue.

"Nobody knows. There are rumors that his enemies took advantage of his absence to take their revenge. Others say perhaps she had a spurned lover who committed a crime of passion." Cardan's eyes become engrossed with the outside world for a moment," But I believe otherwise. I'm convinced that our world, like for most humans, threatened to consume her and she ran away to start anew. Our ways are not for everyone you see. We fae are naturally violent and bloodthirsty. Our hedonistic lifestyles have lead many of then to abandoned their offspring to other faeries or creatures a like to look after them. Even at times switching us with human babies so that their parents can supply us with love and affection."

We stay silent, even as Cindee brings us our check and I hand her the money to pay. She returns with my change and I leave her a tip beneath the now empty sugar canister.

Cardan doesn't turn away instead he waits patiently for me to react or say anything. I don't do either but just sit there. My phone rings and Cardan's face finally breaks to retrieve my buzzing device. Its Taryn.

I quickly text back a response. Mom had told her that I left with some friends to go eat out before a party. She's making sure I meet up with her and that I wear something appropriate. I send her a snarky response and an illusive idk. Taryn quickly texts me back to no be lame and the time she expects me to be there. She's at a friend house getting ready it seems.

"I gotta go. Everyone's expecting me attend a kickback or whatever." I reach for my stuff and get up to leave. It takes a minute for me to go outside and process what he said. I'm not sure if the story sounds familiar or if it's a warning of what's to come if I choose to continue down this path.

Path? What am I going on a soul quest? No! I'm 17 and a senior in high school, waiting to go to college and figure out my life here. Nothing's changed. Except I met this weird boy whose definitely been stalking me for several months now. Sending me messages via pinecones and holding mybhand carrying my bag. The first part is off but the rest of it isn't anything new. I mean I've had boyfriends before that would do that stuff. Like Collin, he did that all the time before we broke up over the summer before college. Why I am worried about boy or whatever he is? This is dumb, my feminist foremothers did not--

"Jude are you okay?" Mara asks and I practically jump out of my skin.

While I was silently tail spinning, Mara and Katie happen to be going by. I'm not sure what I looked like, standing outside the Moonlight diner, staring at the void as all this new stuff came crashing down on me. But nonetheless, I'm glad they showed up when they did.

Katie and Mara share a moment before asking me where I'm headed. Katie's eyes narrow down at my backpack and she questions me about it. Just then, the last person that I wanted to be there decided to catch up with me. My friends do not hide their ogling as he butts in.

"Whose this?" Mara asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh this? This is Car-rigan. He's my new next door neighbor." Katie's sniper eyes move from my backpack back to me and then Cardan. Mara repeats the name that she was just given and Cardan promptly nods.

"That's what I'm called. It's a family name." Katie doesn't seem to buy it and asks where does he live because its obvious my family lives in every secluded area. "Its a hard to find but I can assure you it's back there."

They offer to give us a lift, that way we can all wait and leave for the party at the same time. I'm about to refuse until Cardan accepts their offer. As we get into the car, I worry if the amount of iron will kill him. But he seems unbothered by it for the most part. He reaches for my hand. I reflexively pull it way, still shaken by our conversation.

When we get to my door, they're surprised to see him follow me out. They offer to take him home but I decline. I'm surprised when they pull away, they text me that they were heading to moonlight diner for some grub anyway and just to text them when we were ready. Mara sent me a wink in our group chat and I had a hard time understanding what she meant.

Surprise surprise, my dad was out back. It was already dark but there was an half empty pizza box on the table. Typical. Cardan looked around, mystified by it all. There were drawings and portraits scattered throughout the house with pictures of all of us even Vivi. Recently there was a one of her and her girlfriend Heather on the fridge. Dad had wondered aloud if she should be included in our family Christmas card. Mom pointed out that we never had a family Christmas card.

"Yeah, it's an eclectic mix of bohemian meets OCD. It's like mom likes the idea of chaos but lives for rigid order. Don't get mud on the carpet, she'll skin you alive and show all her friends her rare pearl prince throw rug in the spring. "

I tell Cardan to wait there as I go upstairs. But I hear my dad call my name from the back porch and I grab Cardan's hand and race with him up the stairs. I shove him in my room and lean over the banister with a 'yeah dad?'. Dad pokes his head through the door way but doesn't move to join me. He thought it was me when he saw me through the window and he offers me pizza. From here I can just make out the graying temples of his hair, most men in his family gray early. He pushes his glasses that he seems to use more of now in older age, his olive skin with a smattering of freckles that make him seem younger than he is. Dad smiles and asks about my day. I give him mostly sincere answers and he tell me a bit about his. I'm trying not dance in panic because theres a boy/magical prince in my room. Dad doesn't catch on and waves me off to get ready. He informs me that mom is out with her friends so she's more than likely to come home buzzed and forgetful about curfew. Dad shrugs playfully and I giggle at his cleverness. The old man has it figured out.

When I hear the door close, watching dad's retreating figure return to his converted barn through the back porch window, I race back to my room. Cardan is casually sifting through my things, bauble earrings are threaded in his lobes and my knitted crown sits right above his head.

"You know it's really unfair how attractive you still manage to be when quite clearly look silly." I finally drop my bag and jump to lay on the bed. Cardan removes the earrings but not the crown before sitting beside me. In a flash I rip it off and replace it the hat from before. This time without tucking his ears. I nod at my handy work and lay down. Cardan doesn't move. At first. Eventually he moves to lay beside me, put feet dangling off the side of the bed.

"Now what?" Cardan asks but stay fixated on the ceiling. If I were to turn, there's no question what i would do. I would behave illogical as most girls would have done. But I Jude Duarte have no time to act illogical.

"This whole afternoon just came out of left field. It was unexpected. A pleasant un-expectation. Though I can't let it happen again." My voice sounds different but it's the tone I need to convey right now.

"Jude, look at me." Cardan's voice is soft but there's an edge to it like my own.

"If I do," I keep myself focused on this one spot above me, " will you kiss me?"

"If you allow me to do so, yes."

For a moment we don't move, my chest barely rising up and down nor do I hear the breathing of his. It almost startles me when Cardan begins to talk again. He's waving a thin piece of black almost gossamer fabric above me and I recognize what it is.

"Why did you keep this? I had earnestly believed this meant nothing to you. Just a simple bandage." He is about to toss it when I take it from him, his fingers quick to tangle with mine. "Jude?" Cardan asks softly.

I close my eyes as I admit "After the night, when I woke up in my room. I kept it as a reminder that that night was real. In case I ever forgot to keep my word."

"A reminder of my favor." There's a dulcet tone to his voice as he says my name again but I stay fixed upon the ceiling. It isn't until he start to kiss my fingers, palms then wrists. The controlled yet hungry manner he rolls up till we see chest to chest and he buries his hands in my hair.

For a moment, I allow myself to be young foolish and illogical. But even I have a hard time swallowing that lie.

[kris10tisme]

Social Anxiety Origin Story

Social Anxiety is classified as a disorder. Isn’t that crazy!? You can actually read up on it on the MayoClinic or Webmd websites which shows that it really is a legitimate thing; it's not just you being a pussy. Most people who have social anxiety disorder don’t know what it is or why they’re like this. When we first become aware of our incomprehensible phobia we usually feel completely alien. People with this ailment tend to feel like the ultimate freaks, which knocks down their self esteem tenfold. If you have desperately searched online to potentially find answers: I feel you. The first time I felt a sense of belonging in this world was browsing through internet forums, reading about how people had the same irrational fears I did. You can find comfort in it sure, but it's definitely not the same as finding belonging in person. I didn’t know that I wasn’t completely alone in this struggle until I was maybe fifteen or sixteen years old navigating through my insufferable high school life!  During that time google searches quickly became my best friend.

I can’t even really pinpoint where my SAD began for me. As a child I was pretty shy but I’d eventually open up once I became semi-comfortable. I didn’t ruminate whether or not I made some sort of fool of myself publicly. I was just having a blast man. Childhood is all fun and games but you really do get the carpet ripped out from under you when you enter adolescence.

 I grew up a very privileged child financially - my parents both being middle class. My bills were all taken care of, and I didn't have to worry too much about the connections I would make with others in life. I was a kid. When a kid has no friends it's sad, but when an adult has no friends you wonder what they did wrong and you try to steer clear of them. There must be a reason why they are friendless: they must fetishize feet in their spare time! When you’re a child your only occupation is being a student. I’d wake up, go to school, learn stuff, socialize a bit among peers and then go home to watch TV and repeat, not questioning or overthinking the minutiae or idiosyncrasies in my life; just living day by day. Everything was smooth sailing. I figured I would hit my peak as a teenager and do all the cool teenagery things I saw on television like going to parties, making the cheerleading squad (though I’m not athletic at all; it would just happen), and have a tumultuous relationship with several boys. I’d pick the most special one to lose my virginity to on prom night! Then college would come, I’d go there and graduate and get a job. Sounds simple right!?

WRONG!

Hitting puberty was a big eye opener for me. It’s like once I menstruated my self-esteem plummeted. Everything about life just seemed a lot more competitive. There are all these milestones that society expects you to complete by certain ages: your first beer, your first kiss, your first fornication, your first job. All terrible and unfamiliar things! Now that I had bled and grown boobs, I was in the process of becoming a woman. I had to start making preparations to accomplish these milestones.

Seventh grade was the first year of my life I was depressed, and that terrible feeling hasn’t really depleted all that much since. In sixth grade I felt like a rock star… until the end of the year. I was a downright bully, mocking people in my class for the way they looked and acted. Some of my classmates found me funny, and I liked feeling that bold. I liked knowing that people were on the edge of their seats waiting for me to comment on a situation. It wasn’t until the end of the school year when one of the girls I heavily bullied called me out on my malicious means of garnering attention from my peers. She didn’t even insult me, she just spat out the truth. “You’re mean KRISTEN! You’re a BULLY!”

I can’t even explain how thrown off I felt by that mere observation. I never questioned why I did what I did; I liked the attention. I liked being someone people would be eager to hear from to know my latest outrageous comments on what surrounds us. Hearing this girl call me out for being a mean bully was a gut punch like no other. I couldn’t believe my ears. To me this girl wasn’t a person; she was a vessel. Someone to make fun of. Someone who was an easy target because she had a whole line of insults thrown her way since even before I saw her as easy prey.

No one ever downright called me out on my behavior. My dad did tell my mom that I was a horrible daughter, and he even asked who would want to have a daughter like me. But that was mostly because I was disrespectful towards him. Such a justified comment for a parent to make about his adolescent daughter right in front of her :)

That summer break I had tons of time to reflect upon my actions. I recognized how downright awful I had been to a lot of my classmates and vowed to make amends in the coming school year. I want to say, most of the bullying took place before I began menstruating, so you can blame my abhorrent behavior on my lack of emotional resonance and the fact that my womanly empathy and sympathy had not yet kicked in. That’s how I excuse how I acted.

So by seventh grade I was menstruating, and I grew D cup breasts overnight. I became a stand-up person - someone who didn’t throw vulnerable people under the bus for my own benefit. I became what you would call... “compassionate.”

Seventh grade was the year everything went downhill for me. Maybe it was the hormones kicking in and getting the better of me, or maybe it was me becoming more aware of what society deems as acceptable and proper. I felt like I should be cultivating a role in society, and I didn’t know what role to take.  I couldn’t be loud and obnoxious anymore because my victims were starting to bite back and I realized the biting back hurt me more than I could handle.

For the rest of Junior High I struggled with my transitioning into a new person. My classmates instantly recognized how much softer and kind-hearted I became. I didn’t throw around as many insults, and if I did it was just playful banter.  Me and the girl I had so savagely bullied were on decent terms, though we never really interacted with one another except for when obligatory social protocol called for it. I struggled with finding my niche again within my class. I got along with people just fine, but I suffered through a big identity crisis: I didn’t know what I could contribute without being outwardly obnoxious. I didn’t know what stereotypical personality trait defined me. Things got a bit more fucked at home for me, so that really took a toll on me mentally. I’ll get into how family influences your socialization tendencies in another post.

I’ve never wanted anything more in life other than to be liked. I know they say that not everyone’s gonna like you and that you should accept that, but I can’t! I just can’t accept it! The only way I will accept someone not liking me is if they’re completely indifferent to me, like when I have not done anything to them or in front of them to warrant them having an opinion on my character. So I keep my mouth shut. BUT THEN… I worry about what a weirdo they must think I am. If I’m too quiet then I give people the opportunity to make assumptions about me based on the impressions they have on me. They can be thinking anything, like that I watch tentacle porn, or that I collect toenail clippings or something.

I wonder if keeping my mouth shut all these years has done me more harm than good emotionally. Speaking up opens you up for attack, and I always feel like I have to be on the defensive. But when you say nothing to anyone, are you really living your life to the fullest and taking advantage of opportunities that could benefit you?

Meeting someone and getting to know them feels kind of like a step by step interrogation for me. The worst question I always get is, “What do you do?” Which I assume means “what do you do for a living?” Another one is,“Do you have a boyfriend?” It seems to me that the general public believes having a solid and steady job and being in some sort of romantic relationship completes the prerequisites for having a satisfactory life. Do these people even consider that you may be unemployed AND single? And that they’re unintentionally making you feel shitty about yourself? Just keep the convo focused on the weather for god sake. 

I started this blog to vent about my feelings. I have been journaling a lot recently to blow off some steam because it's uncomfortable to complain about this stuff in real life. Only people on the internet can understand certain problems. I don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but I feel like social anxiety is an underrepresented disease in mainstream media. It’s embarrassing to tell people that you are anxious for your next family gathering because you don’t know if you should greet someone with a kiss on their cheek if they’re sitting down. Do I just bend down!? Should they stand up? Am I being too forward, or are they gonna be offended if I don’t make a move to embrace them? That's a whole ordeal for me. It's not what people call a “real problem” but this is the shit I think about while I lie in bed at night. So if shit similar to that wanders through your mind when you contemplate the world, maybe you can find some sort of catharsis through this blog. We may not have a very mainstream disease, but at least we’ve got each other to relate to. We’re people who find solace in reading about similar experiences we’ve experienced online. 

 Just thinking back on the fact that what jump started my anxiety issue was a small little comment made by someone whose life I made torturous. I don’t place the blame on this girl, as I just enabled her to pull the trigger on some deeper rooted issues I bore. Although it is quite the struggle I am glad that the nastier person I was eventually transformed into a more compassionate one. I never got to formally apologize to that girl. I hope I didn’t leave a big lasting impression on her. I was really shitty to her. I would reach out to her through social media and apologize, but I’ve got way too much social anxiety for that!

Well now that we’ve covered my origin story I would love to hear about all of yours. I will continue to write about various social situations or predicaments that freak me out, as well as stuff I’ve been through at home and in high school and how I’ve evolved and haven’t evolved. I don’t want this blog to be filled with negativity. Hopefully it's self-effacing in a not too depressing way. If it’s too depressing please let me know. I don’t want to spread the feeling of hopelessness with this blog. I want people to find comfort and humor, and maybe we can come up with some potential resolutions for certain scenarios and give each other tips. If there are any readers out there, thanks for reading. I hope this in some way made you smile and feel like less of an outcast. Keep trooping on! You’re not alone :)

[noona-clock]

Snow Day

Can I request something really cute with Jisoo as a dad please??

Anon, you certainly can. And it is my absolute pleasure to write this for you.

Genre: AU/FLUFF 

Pairing: Jisoo x You

By Admin B

The three of you were gathered around the small television on your kitchen counter, so silent you could just about hear the snowflakes landing on the roof of your house.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Jisoo whispered as the weatherman listed off the school districts which were closing due to inclement weather.

And when he finally did say the name of your school district, a small chorus of cheers erupted in your kitchen.

“YES!” your 5-year-old son cried, pumping his little fists in the air. “NO SCHOOL!”

“No school,” you grinned as you turned toward your husband.

“Two words that are just as exciting for both students and teachers,” he chuckled before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Daddy,” your son interrupted, grabbing Jisoo’s sleeve and tugging on it. “Can we go outside and play? I want to build a snowman and an igloo and have a snowball fight!”

“Can we? Of course, we can!” Jisoo replied with a huge smile, bending down and picking your son up into his arms. He was honestly bordering on too old to be held, but... Jisoo was still just a little in denial of how old your child was getting (and how quickly he was growing up). Jisoo then turned to you with raised eyebrows. “How about it, mom?”

You smiled angelically, putting a hand on your son’s back and standing on your toes to kiss his cheek to soften the blow.

“I would love to... but I honestly am way behind in my grading.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jisoo sighed. “Mommy was sick last week, remember? She missed some work, and her students took a test while she was gone.”

“Will it take you a long, long time?” you son asked with the most adorably furrowed brow.

“Not too long... hopefully,” you frowned. “But I’ll come out with you guys as soon as I’m done. Okay?”

Your son nodded and then wiggled out of Jisoo’s arms so they could both get bundled up and ready for some snow adventures.

You shuffled down the hallway to the office, letting out a sigh as you grabbed the stack of exams to be graded, your favorite grading pen, and plopped on the couch to get cracking.

“So, what first?” Jisoo asked as he stepped outside into the snow. “Snowman?”

“Yeah! Snowman,” your son cheered, though his voice was muffled by the scarf covering half of his face. Jisoo never would’ve guessed this prior to becoming a dad, but he was kind of an overprotective, worrywart parent. You definitely helped keep him in check a lot, especially now your son was in Kindergarten. He let you deal with the school stuff because you were a lot more chill - something a teacher always appreciated.

It was weird because, as a teacher, Jisoo was extremely laid-back and relaxed while you were more strait-laced and conscientious in the classroom. When it came to your child, though, you two were the complete opposite.

Jisoo, of course, did most of the snowman building since it required some heavy-lifting. But your son helped by gathering the materials, making the face, putting on the scarf and hat - basically turning the snowman into a real snowman.

“How does it look?” your son asked, taking a step back and glancing up at Jisoo.

“He looks very handsome,” Jisoo replied proudly.

“But... he doesn’t look like Olaf.”

“Well, no, we’re not Elsa. We can’t make a snowman like Olaf.”

Your son pouted slightly for just a moment, but then Jisoo suggested moving on to making snow angels.

Your son had way too much fun falling back into the snow, and he ended up making about ten snow angels before his arms and legs got tired.

They moved onto throwing snowballs then, and Jisoo spent way too much time teaching your son how to make the perfect snowball.

It wasn’t until halfway through throwing the pile of snowballs they’d made your son realized something.

“Where’s mommy?” he asked curiously. “Is she still grading her tests?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jisoo responded. He’d completely forgotten you’d said you would come out and join them. “She must be...”

“Can we go inside and check on her?”

Jisoo smirked a little, throwing the snowball he had in his hand before squatting down to his son’s level. “You want to go and check on her... or you’re getting cold and want some hot chocolate?”

“Both,” your son giggled.

“All right, let’s go in for a little bit. I bet mommy wants some hot chocolate, too.”

You were actually already in the kitchen when Jisoo and your son arrived back in the house, stopping in the doorway to take off their snow-covered boots.

“Well, look who it is,” you grinned. “My favorite snowmen.”

“Mommy!” your son cried, running to you and colliding into your legs. “We’re going to make some hot chocolate.”

“You are?! Can I have some, too?” you asked, sliding your son’s hat off his head. You heard Jisoo already rummaging around the kitchen, grabbing some mugs and getting the kettle filled with water.

You couldn’t help but remember doing the exact same thing on your first date with Jisoo... It seemed like so long ago, but then again, look at how much had changed. And how much was still changing.

Once you all three had your mugs of steaming hot cocoa and Jisoo and your son had hung up their coats, you all cuddled up on the couch and turned on the TV.

Not even halfway through his drink, and your son was out like a light, sleeping soundly in-between the two of you.

A soft smile pulled at Jisoo’s lips as he gently combed his fingers through your son’s hair, and you knew you had no reason to worry.

“Hey,” you said quietly. Jisoo’s gaze shifted to meet yours, and his smile grew.

“Hey, you,” he replied. “We missed you outside.”

“Yeah, sorry... I... I got my grading done, but... I think I figured something out.”

“Yeah?” Jisoo asked, sipping his drink. “What did you figure out?”

“I don’t think I had a stomach bug last week.”

Jisoo’s brow furrowed in confusion as he set his mug down on the coffee table, careful not to wake up your son. “What do you mean?”

“I think... I think it was morning sickness.”

Your husband froze, his eyes widening. But then a huge smile appeared on his lips and he reached out to cradle your cheek. “Really?! You -- you’re --”

“I think so,” you chuckled.

Jisoo leaned over to kiss you, feeling your son stir at the sudden movement.

“Daddy, what are you -- ewwwww! You’re kissing!”

Jisoo pulled away, bending down to kiss the top of your son’s head. “Do you want a little brother or sister?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Then don’t complain about me kissing your mom.”

You laughed out loud, your heart positively glowing as you watched the interaction between Jisoo and your son. And it glowed even more when you thought about the new little one coming along sometime next summer.

When you’d first started teaching, first met Jisoo as your classroom neighbor, you never would’ve imagined this as your future. But now that it was your reality, you couldn’t imagine any other life you’d rather be living.

Author’s Note: This could totally be a stand-alone fic, but it could also totally be an Epilogue to Turning Point.

Master list // RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

[sevenpabosandabunchoffans]

BTS reaction to not understanding Southern customs/phrases

Thank you anon for asking me to do this, as I’ve really wondered this myself! I actually expanded it from just them doing something considered rude, to not understanding things, because I actually thought of some things that could fit into a little scenario with them. In fact, some of these are drawn from actual things that have happened to me before. Hope you enjoy!

Jin:

Jin would have recently come to visit you during a short break. He would be at dinner with your family, who was just as loud as always. The night was filled with you joking around with your siblings/cousins/whoever, which, of course, included some teasing insults.

“Y/N, stop being ugly!” Your mom would scold you as she stood up from her chair to begin clearing the table.

Jin’s eyes would go wide as he looked at you. He would lean in to whisper, “Did your mom just call you ugly? Why, you’re the most beautiful girl~”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s confusion. “No, she was referring to me teasing them. We use ugly to refer to personality.” He would furrow his eyebrows, still confused, but drop it, instead opting to continue eating the delicious food.

Yoongi:

For your entire relationship, all Yoongi had heard about was your favorite restaurant that was a local delicacy. So, when he went to visit you, he knew he would be visiting this restaurant at one point.

You would have just finished your meal and the waiter brought back Yoongi’s card and the receipt. “Hey, what’s this line for?” You look at the receipt and notice he’s pointing to the tip line.

“That’s where you put the tip?” When you see the confusion on his face, you decide to elaborate more. “Extra money for the waiter.”

“Why?”

“Because waiters here make a lot of their money through tips, and if you don’t leave one, then you’re automatically remembered as an asshole.”

Yoongi nodded then picked up the pen the waiter had left. “How much?”

Hoseok:

You and Hoseok would be on your way back to your house/apartment after a shopping trip when you suddenly told him to pull the car over.

“What, why?” He would ask, slowing down because of his confusion, but not fully pulling over.

“Just do it.” He would listen and pull to the side of the road, quickly noticing that other cars were doing the same. He was about to ask again when he saw a police car coming from the opposite direction, followed by a hearse and dozens of cars. “What-”

“It’s a funeral procession.” You explain quickly.

“Yeah, but we’re on the other side of the road, why do we-”

“It’s just to show respect to the family of the deceased.” He would nod, finally understanding as he got comfortable while waiting for the procession to end.

Namjoon: (a/n: just gonna say, I know this isn’t everywhere in the South, it varies based on where you live, but this is how it is here)

You always do your weekly shopping on Sundays. With it being the first day of the week, you couldn’t think of a better day to get it done. Your weekly shopping experience was much more fun this day due to the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend had flown in to spend the holiday with you.

You were grabbing a few things for your romantic dinner that night, when you realized that he had wondered off. Just as you’d started your search for him, he reappeared in front of you. “I thought this could come in handy tonight.” He would say, showing off the wine he had chosen.

“That’s a very nice choice, but sadly we have to put it back.” You say, removing it from his grasp and walking towards the aisle it belongs in.

“Why?”

“Because it’s Sunday, and you can’t purchase or sell alcohol on Sundays here.”

“That’s so weird.” He would complain under his breath as you returned the beverage to the shelf

Jimin:

Always being a gentleman for you, he would always jump in front of you to open doors. It became a habit and something you always expected. However, he was not prepared when he ran into an alpha male (a/n: this is what my dad calls them).

He opened the door to a restaurant for you just as a family was walking up. He continued to hold the door open, wanting to not be rude and let the door close in their faces. But to his surprise, the father of the family placed his arm behind Jimin, grabbing hold of the door and insisting he go in first.

“No, you go-”

“Jimin, come on.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, wanting to avoid the inevitable testosterone battle. “Anytime two males are at a door, it’s like an unwritten rule that they have to battle it out for who gets to hold the door. I’m too hungry to have waited for that to play out.”

Jimin chuckled at your impatience as he wrapped his arm around your waist while you told the hostess that you needed a table for two.

Taehyung: (a/n: if you’ve seen their episode of Star Show 360, then you’ll get this reference, I was so confused by this so I had to include)

It was Taehyung’s first time meeting your parents, and they had invited the two of you over so he could have “true southern cookin’”. As you sat down to eat, he could see the steam coming off all the dishes on the table in front of him, signifying how fresh out the oven they were.

He looked around at everyone digging in, confused as to how your tongue’s weren’t burning. “Honey, why aren’t you eating?”

“Oh, it’s hot, I’m waiting for it to cool down.”

“Well just blow on it.” Your mom told him before taking another bite from her plate.

“I thought-”

“Yeah, I have no idea where people got that from.” You would tell him, urging him to go ahead and eat.

(A/N: I honestly don’t know where they got that it’s rude to blow on your food, because I was raised that just sitting there is a sign of disrespect since you’re not eating)

Jungkook:

Jungkook happened to fly in for a visit right before you were hit with an ice storm yes ice not snow because god forbid we ever get any actual snow here. Your parents had the heat blasting, the fireplace on, and you had been guzzling hot cocoa all day. Now it was dinner time and you were having classic tomato soup to warm your insides before curling up for a movie night.

Everyone in your family dropped their spoons as a loud slurping sound filled the room. Jungkook felt the eyes on him and stopped eating, looking around.

“Little loud there, don’t you think?” Your dad said, staring him down.

“Oh, sorry.” He said quietly, looking down at his lap.

“He didn’t know dad, it’s different in Korea.” You rubbed Jungkook’s arm as you spoke, trying to reassure him. You then turned to him. “It’s rude to make noises here.”

Jungkook nodded quietly and picked his spoon up again, taking great care to be quiet while eating his soup.

[justanotherwannabeclassic]

Bloom (3/?)

The story of Captain Swan’s pregnancy, told in many parts. Affectionately nicknamed “The Happiest Pregnancy Ever.”

In this chapter, Regina gives advice on how to blow off steam by blowing things up. Better than the townsfolk, right? Many, many thanks to @unfolded73 for the beta! [Ch.1][Ch.2]

You can also read on AO3!

Chapter 3: Fireball

Emma was going to kill someone, and since she was Sheriff, she could get away with it.

No one would suspect her. She was Emma Swan-Jones: Sheriff, Savior, once Slayer and now Friend of Dragons. She was also the pregnant lady, and who would suspect the pregnant lady? Anyone with a brain, that's who. Because it was her pregnancy that was driving her to consider homicide.

No, no, that wasn't quite right. Her pregnancy wasn't making her want to kill anyone, it was the way people reacted to her pregnancy that had her seeing red. People apparently went insane around pregnant women. It was as if she was giving off a magical aura that made them lose all sense of decency or respect, and that her belly was some weird homing beacon.

First of all, why did people feel the need to touch her? Emma had never been a super touchy-feely person. She was called prickly for a reason. There were a select few people she would allow into her space, and she was fine with them. But Happy wasn't one of those people. Neither was Susan who ran the gas station, and certainly not Henry's track coach. People who had never even shaken her hand suddenly decided that attempting to touch her belly would be the best greeting. She was barely even showing. Okay, that was a lie, she was clearly pregnant, but she wasn't that pregnant. And even if she was that pregnant, it still didn't give strangers permission to try and touch her stomach.  

Thankfully, one of the perks of having a husband who was once a villain was that people shied away from invading her space whenever he was around. Was it insulting that people didn't respect her pregnant self enough to leave her alone? Absolutely. But over the course of her life, Emma had learned to choose her battles, and this wasn’t one of them. If strangers avoided touching her because they were afraid Killian's hook might end up embedded in their abdomen, then so be it. She could deal with the vaguely misogynistic mindsets later.

Of course, Killian had his own issues. She loved her husband. She had zero doubt he was going to be a great father. He already was with Henry, so this kid would be no different. And, well, now that they knew it was going to be a girl, she knew he'd be even more doting. (Not that he wouldn't be with a son, he absolutely would. It's just that she could easily see their little girl having him wrapped around her finger. Dear God, she was going to have to be bad cop, wasn't she?) But there was also such a thing as too doting, which he was now.

At first, she appreciated it. She felt pampered, adored, precious -- even more so than he normally made her feel. But Emma was a woman who'd taken care of herself for over two decades. She was independent, and she prided herself on that. It was a characteristic that she wanted to instill in their daughter, only without the baggage. Naturally, that meant that sooner or later, Killian's doting would cause her to feel claustrophobic.

With Killian, she knew it came from a place of love. He wanted to do everything to ensure her and their daughter's safety. That meant fetching her food whenever she wanted, but it also meant slight critiques of what she was eating, switching her to decaf and the like.

"It can't possibly be that different."

"It is and it sucks."

He argued that she should stick to desk duty, despite the fact that she could still move around. And she didn't have to get that close to any criminals -- not that petty town criminals were that violent to begin with -- she had magic, after all. And she understood, really. Everyone he loved had died (including herself, briefly) or abandoned him, and Killian was going to do everything possible to protect his growing family. That was why she didn't complain too much, only ever putting her foot down when it came to her career.

And everything would have been fine if it had begun and ended with Killian. Only it hadn't. Everyone had an opinion on what she should drink or eat or do. At one point, Granny had refused to serve her onion rings, which made Emma's hormonal self actually cry. That had been terrible, because then the whole town was on watch around her, lest they hurt her "delicate pregnancy feelings." Grumpy had nearly manhandled her grocery bags out of her arms, arguing that she shouldn't be carrying anything too heavy -- might harm the pregnancy.

"Don't you care about your baby, sister?"

She almost, almost turned him into a tree -- a small, lame tree that would have made Charlie Brown's Christmas tree look like the most beautiful thing ever. But she didn’t, because she was a hero…and because it would give the townsfolk more ammunition for the pregnancy brain theory. Jerks.

It was awful. She never had to deal with that kind of treatment when she was pregnant in prison. (Who would have thought that prison could actually one-up Storybrooke at something?)

Currently, the whole town had her hiding in her house. She felt a little bit like a coward, but for once she wanted her and her baby to be completely off-limits. Was that so wrong?

Knock. Knock.

Apparently so.

Sighing, Emma pushed herself up from the couch and padded to the door. If it was Belle with more pregnancy books or her mother with additional designs for the nursery, she just might scream. (She loved her friends and family. She did. She just had to remind herself of that more often than not in recent weeks.)

Instead, Emma was surprised to see Regina on the other side. Though she and Regina were close, her enemy-turned-friend rarely made surprise house calls. The only reason she ever came by unannounced was if Henry forgot something at her place, but she was empty-handed.

"Hey," Emma greeted, stepping aside to allow Regina entrance. Emma quickly glanced around, checking to see if anything was too messy. She hated surprise guests. "Henry's at the movies with some friends."

Regina waved her off. "I'm not here for Henry, I'm here for you. Put some shoes on, we're going out."

Emma raised a skeptical eyebrow. "The last time we went out, my mother nearly got into a fight with Vikings and I cried into a napkin at a bar."

"You have to admit seeing Snow that drunk was worth it."

Emma thought back to her discovery that the kind mixologist Aesop was actually Gideon in disguise. Nope. Definitely not worth it.

"You know I can't drink, right?" Emma asked, pointing to her stomach. Regina rolled her eyes and gave Emma her most "do you think I am that stupid" expression. "Just checking, because most of what we do when we hang out is drink."

"Emma, we're not going drinking. We're going to have fun."

Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously, despite beginning to search for her sneakers. God, if Regina of all people began to treat her like she was some porcelain doll, Emma might go full Dark Swan again. Once she finished tying her shoes, she stretched out her arms. "Okay, I'm ready for fun."

And then Emma was suddenly engulfed in smoke. She felt the familiar pull of magical teleportation, and braced herself. When the smoke lifted, Emma was no longer in her living room, but standing in a cleared green, circled by trees. Looking around, she noticed multiple targets scattered around.

What the hell? 

"Your idea of fun is target practice?" Emma asked, her incredulity apparent. This was not what she had been expecting. Had she been, Emma would have come more prepared. "Are we going to poof in guns, or are we going for weapons with a bit more flair?"

She had always wanted to try a bow and arrow, after all. Her mother and Robin Hood had always made it look so cool. Regina, however, had other plans. 

"Weapons? Please, Emma. You're a Sorceress. We're using magic." A fireball appeared in Regina's hand, and she smirked. She threw it and one of the targets burst into flames. "More fun, don't you think?"  

Emma watched as the flames licked the air and smoke twirled skyward. She closed her eyes and channeled her own magic, smiling when she felt it coalesce in her palm into something bright and powerful.

"Oh, hell yes."

Her own target erupted into flames. Bullseye, baby, Emma thought triumphantly. She channeled another fireball and threw it toward a different target further away. She continued like that for some time, right up until she realized that Regina wasn't joining in.

"What gives?"

"I'm not the one who needs to work out her frustrations," Regina replied. There was a that's-what-she-said joke in there somewhere, but Emma was sure Regina wouldn't accept the commentary.

"You aren't frustrated? You're mayor of this town. When Mom was mayor, she yelled at, like, everyone. Let me rephrase: being mayor almost broke Snow White." 

"And teaching a classroom of elementary school students would almost break me. We all have our strengths, Emma," Regina replied without a hint of smugness. Sometimes Emma marveled at how far they had all come. "Besides, look around. Who do you think created this place?"

Emma glanced at the targets. Much of them were aflame, but weren't burning to the ground at they should. It was as if they were magically protected.

"Impressive."

"I like to pretend the one on the far left is Grumpy," Regina commented with a smirk. She then sighed and shrugged. "I thought it would be best if I made a space where I could exercise my darker feelings without...exercising my darker feelings." 

"So instead of blowing up Granny's or Zelena, you blow up these." Emma gestured to the targets that were slowly turning back to their original state. "And you brought me here because...?"

"I thought it would be bad for town morale if you killed half the dwarf population. Not that they don't deserve it."

Emma sighed. "Am I that obvious?"

"In a word, painfully."

"Ugh."

"You're handling it better than I would be," Regina said with a rueful smile.

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better."

"Which is why you now have these." Regina waved over to the targets. "Now, flame on. I know you can do more." 

"Flame on?" Emma quirked a brow at the reference. 

Regina shrugged. "You don't think I bought Henry those comic books without reading them first, do you?" 

An image of Regina in full Evil Queen regalia reading an array comic books rose unbidden to her mind, and Emma had to stifle a laugh. She doubted her friend would appreciate it. Instead, Emma channeled those thoughts into another ball of energy and directed it at a nearby target. Regina was right. It really did feel better to let off steam this way.

"You do realize I'm going to come out here all of the time now, right? At least, up until the baby is born." Emma thought back to how irritable her mother became after one too many all-nighters with Neal. "Maybe after, too."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Regina responded with a wink. "Now what do you say we have a little competition. Whoever hits the most targets in under a minute wins?"

Emma grinned. "You're on."

Emma won, and later that evening she rewarded herself with ice cream, its cone dipped in fudge and topped with sprinkles. And when Goldilocks made a passing comment about how it must be nice to have an excuse to eat whatever she wanted, Emma only smiled.

After all, she now had target practice.

[agent-murica]

Angst war; Grif sees Simmons again – and discovers it isn’t the real Simmons.

This was such a fun prompt to do, thank you so much for prompting it!

AO3//@rvbficwars

Warnings: Alluded Character Death, rvb15 Spoilers, canon typical language, vague references of child abuse/neglect

Summary:  Simmons came back for Grif but Grif would be willing to bet his life (or maybe not his life but something of equal value) that something was seriously wrong. 

At the time, quitting the group had seemed to be the greatest decision he’s ever made. After being dragged on adventure after adventure it felt good to finally say no.

It also felt really good going off on them the way he did. (Maybe Donut was right; venting really did take off some steam- and no that train of thought ends there.)

But after a few days, it didn’t start to feel as good.

Dexter Grif was not meant to stay in a quiet environment; ever.

From having to deal with loud tourists to visiting the circus that mom joined to having to bust Kai out of parties to being stationed at that colo-

Grif was just used to living with loud noises and constant distractions despite his complaining about it all the time.

Because really how was someone supposed to get some peace and quiet when Sarge was trying to fight gravity or having to deal with Tucker talking shit or having to listen to Carolina when she tried to si- and he’s not even going to finish that thought in case she had that keen sense of just knowing like Tex seemed to have.

So just after a few days, being alone had gotten boring really, really fast. But he was slowly being accustomed to it because that’s what he wanted all along, right? Just to be left alone with some peace and quiet.

Which is why when Simmons, seamlessly showed up out of nowhere Grif had figured out that something was seriously wrong.

The first red flag was just from how Simmons was posturing himself. After spending years with Grif, the dude had learned to relax at least somewhat. But here he was gallivanting back to Grif with a back so straight that it would make a damn ruler jealous and with a swagger to his walk that Grif hadn’t seen since Basic.

The second red flag came from how Simmons talked to him. The lilt to his voice was all wrong and it was nothing like how they’ve ever talked to each other. Seriously, it was like the dude had never met Grif in his entire life. Hell, he had been a better communicator as a bundle of nerves back in Basic than the hot mess currently in front of him.

It was at this point that Grif started to really put up his guard. Just, something about how Simmons had just showed up out of the blue and was talking to him as if he was talking to some random guy on the street really put Grif on edge.

It was when Simmons (or maybe not Simmons; a clone perhaps?) had asked where “Kaikaina was?” that Grif’s last preverbal red flag started waving frantically in his head.

Never, in all the time that Grif has known Simmons, has he ever heard him call his sister anything other Kai or just sister.

Immediately, and with some slightly subtly on his part, Grif had reached for his Battle Rifle from off his back but the other Simmons must have picked up that his ruse had failed (and really the guy must not have been trying that hard- that is, of course, if this really wasn’t Simmons) and he started to aim with his own gun and-

It suddenly occurred to Grif that he must have somehow ended up in some old western movie. It was one of those classic scenes where two cowboys stood off against each other, guns drawn ready to fire, tumbleweed blowing in the background, and they both had seconds to shoot first or die.

Except, he wasn’t in a western movie, and they weren’t in the Midwest they were on the beach and Grif wasn’t a cowboy and Simmons (Not Simmons) was also defiantly not a cowboy either, and there weren’t seconds to fire first beca-

A crack rang out through the air and Grif’s laying on the sand, and for once in his miserable life- for once he’s glad he’s wearing armor.

Not Simmons (or maybe still Simmons?) walked up to him as he was potentially bleeding to death.

He’s saying something, but the words aren’t making any sense to him. All Grif can focus on is how he’s been shot and son of a bitch he was shot-

It doesn’t even matter if he can understand Not-But-Maybe Simmons because his hearings going in and out in and out in and fucking out-

How did Donut survive getting shot by Washington? Something must have kept him alive through the odds. But whether that was through some divine intervention or just Donut being a fucking cockroach he doesn’t know but what he does know is that getting shot hurts like a bitch.

He thinks he can hear Unsure-If Simmons talk about some armor lock or whatever the fuck, but even if Grif cared enough to know what that is, he’s been shot and he can’t focus-

“By my calculations-“

By his calculations, this probably wasn’t Simmons.

“-there’s a low probability that anyone will come back for you in time-“

Maybe it was Simmons and this was just a Meta or O’Malley situation all over again because of course, Church came with all sorts of AI problems.

Maybe it was a Met’alley situation for all he kne- and wow when did the sky become so interesting?

“-so there’s no need to worry about the armor lock function actually doing its job and keeping you alive. But-“

The sun was dipping low beyond the horizon; symbolically this could mean many things. In most of the literature that he’s read (during those times when real life was just too much for him and sue him for wanting to escape the realities of his hellish childhood) a sunrise would be used to represent, just, naturally good things: a new start, hope, and a bunch of other idealistic bullshit.

“-just in case you manage to live longer than any Freelancer has thus far, by some miracle, I’ll check up on you in about 9 days-“

But a sunset usually represented bad things like a lost opportunity, a loss of hope-

A loss of life.

“-and finish the job so to speak.”

Suns and symbols were bullshit. This Met’alley Simmons was also bullshit. But he was already leaving, heading towards whatever ship he had arrived in.

Grif’s unsure if the cold is from being close to the ocean, or because of the amount of blood he was losing.

He’s unsure if he can’t move because he’s losing feeling in his limbs or because of that armor whatever Liquid Simmons was blabbering on about.

He can feel his eyelids dip down and flutter open in a cyclic pattern and- wow if that wasn’t irony. (Is this ironic? It feels ironic and whether or not it actually ironic is a debate he won’t have because the assholes who contributed to it aren’t here and oh god they wouldn’t and won’t be here because Grif’s a piece of shit who left and why would they come back for someone like him when they could have someone like Chur-)

For the first in his life, Grif really didn’t want to fall asleep.

But his eyes closed anyways and the last bit of sunlight disappeared below the horizon out of sight.

[raging-violets]

Never A Dull Moment // KillerFlareFlashVibe

Characters: Barry Allen, Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon, Cadence Nash (aka KillerFlareFlashVibe)

Summary – On a slow day at STAR Labs, Team Flash blow off some steam by playing an old kid’s game.

Words: 2998

Also found here on FFN (x)

-

“I’m so bored,” Cisco murmured, resting his chin in his hands. His face, illuminated by the computer screen in front of him stayed frozen for a second. Exactly a second. Then he sat back and looked around. “Did I say that?”

“Yes, Cisco, you did.” Caitlin’s voice was tight, shoulders tense, fingers tightly gripping the pen in between her fingers. “Just like you have every minute for the last twenty minutes. We get it, you’re bored!”

Barry lifted his chin, pushing back the hood of his hoodie with a push under the brim of his forward-facing baseball cap. “Yeah, and you’re not making it any easier for the rest of us, man,” Barry added. His legs were fully extended, feet resting on the edge of the desk, legs crossed at the ankle.

“We all get that nothing’s happening,” Cadence added. She sat on Caitlin’s other side, mimicking Cisco’s stance, chin resting in her hands, elbows sitting atop the desk. “We all have eyes. We don’t need powers for you to realize that we can’t see anything happening.”

“Well excuse me,” Cisco said. He crossed his arms, sticking his hands into his armpits. “It’s just that there’s always something that’s going on. And the one day Harry puts us on meta watch and we all don’t have anything else to do, there’s nothing going on. Now, I don’t know about you, but this meta stuff actually keeps my day going. If I had a rea office job, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

Cadence gave him a look. “I have an office job and you don’t hear me complaining.”

“You get to mess with dead people all day, that’s cool.”

“Ha! And have Captain Singh breathe down my neck all day? Have the threat of going to court to testify every day? Constantly wondering if the body is really dead and isn’t going to pop up like a Jack-in-the-Box to scare me half to death?”

Barry pointed at her. “She’s got a point.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cisco pushed himself backwards and started to spin himself around. He made it only a few times around before having to stop, pressing his hands to the sides of his face to steady himself. “Ugh, now I feel sick.”

“Cisco, would you please stay still?” Caitlin snapped. “I can hardly think with you doing that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Cisco defended himself.

“You’re annoying me.”

“That’s your fault, you get annoyed at every little thing.” Cisco reached up and started to flick at the ends of her hair. Barry smiled to himself, trying not to burst out laughing. Cadence was already there, giggling quietly to herself. Caitlin’s fingers tightened around her pen, fingertips all the way to her knuckles turning white. “You can’t get mad. I’m not touching you. Not touching you, can’t get mad. Not touching you, can’t get mad!”

“Cisco!” Caitlin lifted her hand and smacked Cisco’s hand away. She glared so fiercely he froze. “Do you have to act like such a baby?”

That animated him again. “I’m not a baby,” he replied. That set the two off into a little bicker-fest. Barry reached up and lowered the brim of his hat lower over his eyes, pressing his lips together. Cadence leaned back out of the way when they started to slap each other with their hands.

Finally, she placed her hands on the desk and propelled herself backwards. “Okay, Bickersons! Cool it!” She walked between Cisco and Caitlin, grabbing their shoulders to force them apart. “I already have to deal with a ten-year-old kid, I don’t need to deal with two more babies. So, we’re all bored, we need something to do.”

Barry lifted the brim of his hat once more and looked at her with an amused smile. “And you’re the one that’s going to decide for us.”

Cadence shrugged. “Of course, I’m the fun one.”

At that, Cisco whipped his head around. “I beg your pardon.”

“Compared to you three, your lives would be very dull if I weren’t around.”

“It’d be a lot quieter, that’s for sure,” Cisco mumbled. He cried out in pain when Caitlin and Cadence both whacked him on the back of the head. He brought up his hands and rubbed the lump that formed as Barry tilted his head back and laughed.

“What’d you have in mind, Cade?” Barry finally asked.

“Figures you’d take her side,” Cisco mumbled.

“I’m just trying to figure out what we can do to pass the time! I’m tired of listening to you two fight. And we all know it’d only take a minute tops for me to check the city for anything going on,” Barry pointed out. He sat up, draping his hands between his knees. “So, if there’s anything else to do anything I’m all ears.”

“Thank you, Tholly.” Cadence smiled smugly at Cisco. Then she tapped her finger against her chin, starting to pace back and forth. “Let’s see, Monopoly is only reserved for West Family Game Night. We can’t play Poker anymore after Cisco lost his rent money.”

“You cheated,” Cisco declared.

“I merely watched your face to figure out what move to make, it’s not my fault you wear your heart on your sleeve,” Cadence defended herself, not breaking stride. She continued to pace, making large circles as she went. “We can’t play Hide and Seek since Brady managed to scare nearly everyone half to death when we couldn’t find him.”

“You have to admit, he’s gotten much better with his blending powers,” Barry reminded her.

“Yes, it’s so much fun trying to find him when he’s standing directly in front of your face,” Caitlin muttered.

“You’re just mad that he scared you so badly your hair nearly turned white,” Cisco said. He shook his head. “Loudest I’ve ever heard you scream, too.” This time Cisco received a pinch on his arm. He squealed, leaning away.

Cadence snapped her fingers. “I got it, we can play the lava game.”

“The what?” Caitlin asked.

“You never played the lava game when you were a kid?” Cisco asked.

“I don’t have any brothers and sisters and I was usually with my mom visiting my dad in the hospital,” Caitlin explained. Oh yeah, right. Out of all of them, with Barry right behind, she was the one with the least of a childhood. But how could anyone not know the lava game? It was a childhood staple.

“You pretend that the floor is lava and you have to traverse from one side of a room to another without touching the ground,” Barry explained. “Iris and I used to play it all the time. Until we broke the coffee table and Joe yelled at us.”

“Joe had to deal with you two long enough, I would’ve yelled if you broke the tine of a fork,” Cisco said. He reached out and gently smacked Barry on the arm, making him laugh.

“Yeah, but the rules have changed a little,” Cadence said. She started to speak with her hands, rapidly and wildly gesticulating as she did so. “Now you have to surprise the other person with it. If you say ‘the floor is lava’ the other person only has five seconds to get onto something that’d keep you off the ground.”

“What happens if they don’t do it?” Caitlin asked.

“Then they lose,” Cadence said simply.

“Or, we could make it interesting.” Cisco stood up, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “I can see the competition in you, Miss. Nash and I’m going to make sure it’s a competition you’ll get. And the only way we can do that, of course, is with monetary gain.”

“How much were you thinking?” Barry asked.

“Not so much, I still need to pay my rent. But how about fifty bucks each?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“But you can’t use your powers.”

At that, Barry and Cadence both paused while Cisco and Caitlin smiled impishly. It would certainly be much harder for them. They went through their entire day using their powers at the slightest inconvenience. It’d be such a shame if they couldn’t use it to make sure they won the game. A shame for them anyway. He and Caitlin would have a lot fun watching them figure out how to play.

“Fine,” Cadence said. She pulled her wallet out of the pocket of her jean shorts and flipped through it. Retrieving a $50 bill, she dropped it to the counter. Barry pulled out his own wallet and did the same. Cisco was the next one and Caitlin waited a few moments, crossing her arms, thinking about it. At least, until all eyes turned her way.

“We’re supposed to be watching for any metahumans,” Caitlin said.

“Knowing our luck, nothing’s going to happen,” Cisco said. “Besides, we have all day. Just as long as our asses are back here before Harry gets back.”

“Yeah, cone on, Caitlin,” Barry agreed. “It’ll be fine.”

Caitlin sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Finally, she went to retrieve her purse, making Barry, Cadence, and Cisco all high-five.

-

The game started out before any of them realized it. They went right back to watching for any metahumans to come up. They’d waited for a half hour, all doing their own things. Caitlin was engrossed in a book she hadn’t had much time to finish, Cisco was twiddling with a prototype for a new invention he was working on, their Earth’s version of a metahuman detection watch, Cadence looked up sports scores on her phone, and Barry watched the news on the large TV screen across the Cortex.

Cadence was the first to get up, stretching her arms over her head. “I’m going to get something to eat. Does anyone want anything while I’m up?”

“Pizza Pockets,” came the unanimous replies.

“You guys are going to get fat off eating those things all the time,” Cadence remarked. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Am I going to have an avalanche of them fall out on me again?”

“Probably not,” Barry said. “I ate some more of them yesterday.”

“Barry, you only bought one box! The others were mine and Cisco’s!” Barry protested.

Barry smiled smugly at her. “Yeah, until I went and bought some more.”

“That explains why no store had them!” Cisco slapped his hands onto the side of his desk. “I thought it was a conspiracy trying to get me to stop eating them.” He glared at Caitlin when she said ‘you didn’t need cosmic intervention for that’ and said, “But to know all along it was my best friend who was cleaning me out.”

“And the refrigerator,” Caitlin added.

“Okay,” Cadence said. “I’ll get you all pizza pockets.”

“And, Cade, by the way,” Barry called towards her. The smile that came to his face mimicked that of a Cheshire Cat. “The floor is lava.”

For a moment, Cadence stared at him in confusion. Then her eyes widened and her gaze darted around the Cortex. There wasn’t much that wasn’t the floor for her to jump on. She eyed her office chair but stopped when Cisco reached out and pulled the chair away from her. All the while, Barry continued to count. “5…4…3…”

“Chairs don’t count?” She asked, voice lighting into a high-pitched shriek.

“Nope.” Cisco popped the ‘p’ on his word, smiling smugly.

“2…” Barry said.

With a low curse, Cadence sprinted across the floor of the Cortex and into the medical bay, flinging herself atop the bed with a wild leap from the doorframe. She landed haphazardly on the bed, scrambling back up to see if she got there in time.

“Almost didn’t make it,” Barry called in a sing-song voice.

“But I made it,” Cadence sang back, punching the air and wiggling in a little dance.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you,” Caitlin called.

“Can you get our pizza pockets now?” Cisco asked.

Caitlin was the next one who nearly fell for it. It was about an hour later and he was still trying to figure out how the meta-human watch worked. How were any of them supposed to know that the parts of the watch were different from theirs? As it was, he needed to get it back to Harry before he figured out he’d ‘borrowed’ the watch. And that he might’ve, accidentally destroyed it while trying to make one of his own. So that’s why they were in Harry’s office, which was really Cisco’s before the Earth-2 newcomer had taken it over, looking for any sort of blueprint to figure things out.

“We really shouldn’t be in here,” Caitlin said from the doorway.

“Oh please, your boyfriend isn’t going to find out,” Cisco shot back.

Caitlin scoffed. “That’s totally uncalled for. Just because Dr. Wells was my mentor— “

“Cait, we all know you had a thing for Dr. Wells,” Barry broke in. “It’s fine if you can’t admit it.” He leaned over Cisco’s desk, looking through a bunch of papers. Cisco and Cadence stood behind him, the two searching through some others random odds and ends strewn about. Caitlin continued to stand in the doorway.

“By the way, the floor is lava,” Cisco called. “5…”

“Cisco!”

“4…”

“This isn’t funny.”

“3…you agreed to it. 2…”

Caitlin stomped her foot on the ground like a little child, searching around the room. Finally, she pushed aside a space on the desk and quickly perched herself atop it, her feet dangling towards the ground. The tips of her toes—having had kicked off her heels—barely missed brushing against the floor. “I hate you,” she finally said.

“Join the club,” Cadence remarked. “Because that’s where we’re all going to be once Harry finds out we were in here.”

“I can’t find anything anyway,” Barry agreed.

“Bet you hate that you can’t use your powers now, huh, buddy?” Cisco teased.

“For real?”

“For real, for real,” Cadence replied, making Caitlin laugh.

Cisco slapped his hands to his sides. “But he’s right, I’m not seeing anything.” He looked over the mess they all created. Then he turned to Caitlin and rubbed his chin. “Do you think he’d be much more forgiving if we said that Caitlin was a gift for him?” He ducked out of the way before a screwdriver that Caitlin threw could impale him in the forehead.

Barry and Cisco were harder to get. They were always very close to something that would keep them up off the ground. Barry even showing his arm strength by grasping a low hanging pole that ran across the ceiling of the storage room. And Cisco had even made use of the Flash mannequin to leap atop of it like a spider when he was almost called out. But Caitlin and Cadence continued to try, coming up short each time. At one point, Cisco flung himself across the girls’ laps as they sat in their chairs and Barry had climbed atop of Cisco to stay up.

The girls started to become more difficult as well. Due to their smaller size, they could squeeze into tighter spaces, like a shelf that held medical textbooks and the tiniest space in the storage closet. Nothing within STAR Labs had been off-limits for their careening into it, knocking things over in their haste to climb up or over it. At one point, Cadence had even found herself wedged into the washing machine, nearly having to melt it to get back out.

And yet, none of them managed to get caught.

By the time the game ended, there were bruises all over their arms and legs—Barry’s healing up very quickly—badges of honor from their efforts to get away. In the end, they ultimately decided on a tie to keep from having to go through much more of it.

“Ow,” Cisco rubbed his shin, which had a nasty rug burn from landing on the Cosmic Treadmill, turning it on. “I can’t believe we decided to play this game.”

“You went along with it,” Barry pointed out.

“I was forced into it.” Caitlin glanced towards the computer screen that was flashing. “And look, we’re missing something.” Her body tensed, immediately falling back into the seriousness of the situation they had grown so accustomed to over the years.

“Let’s go,” Barry said to Cadence, jostling her arm as he did so.

Cadence winced, grabbing her arm. “Ow,” she murmured. “Well, the good news about this one is, with my powers, we can still play The Floor is Lava with them.”

“Yeah, and the loser goes to the Iron Heights,” Barry agreed before the two raced out of the Cortex.

[dragonydreams]

The Care and Feeding of Training Assassins 3/3 - Captain Canary

Title: The Care and Feeding of Training Assassins Fandom: DC’s Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart Summary: @gawkydoteficus prompted: FLUFFY PROMPT FLUFFY PROMPT FOR CC: Sara will forget to eat when she trains to Len starts leaving little snacks for her in her room/around the ship/in the training area? Timeline: sometime during season one Word Count: Overall: 4,186, This Chapter: 1,316 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie_quill for looking this over for me.

Start from the beginning

Chapter Three: The Main Event

After Leonard had set the table, including the salad, checked on dinner in the oven, and that the ice cream was still in the freezer, he reluctantly left to go change into whatever Kendra had picked out for him, leaving Mick to watch over the galley.

Upon entering his room, Leonard spotted the black suit jacket and black dress shirt lying on his bed, along with a note.

How'd I do?

- Kendra

Leonard stripped out of his jacket and sweater and slipped into the dress shirt, which fit him perfectly. He quickly tucked it into the black pants he'd been wearing as Kendra had thankfully not provided him with dress pants. He was willing to wear the dress shirt and jacket, but wearing a full suit would feel too much like running a con, and he didn't want that with Sara.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Leonard could admit that he looked good in the form fitting shirt. While he may not show it off, he did have a good physique, if he did say so himself.

Finally he pulled on the black suit jacket and couldn't resist smirking. Maybe Kendra had been right in insisting that he dress for this dinner with Sara. Not that he'd tell her that.

Realizing that he hadn't said what time dinner would be, Leonard stopped by Sara's room to see if she was ready now. Her door was closed, but when he knocked she called out, "Come in."

Sara was in her bathroom, just finishing applying her lipstick.

Her face lit up upon seeing Leonard standing in her room. "Hey!" she said in greeting. She boldly ran her eyes over him, unconsciously licking her newly painted lips. "Don't you clean up nice?"

"You look beautiful," Leonard said sincerely, his eyes raking over her.

"Thank you," Sara said. "Is it time?"

"I came to see if you were ready," Leonard said. "We didn't actually set a time and dinner is nearly done."

"Yeah, let me just grab… Actually, I don't need anything," Sara said, realizing that she wouldn't need any weapons, a phone, or even any money.

"Why don't you take this?" Leonard said, offering his elbow.

Sara chuckled, taking his arm. "Smooth."

Aside from sparring or the kiss earlier that day, this was the first time that Leonard had offered a part of himself to Sara to be touched.

"C'mon, I need to make sure Mick hasn't let dinner burn," Leonard said, guiding Sara towards the galley.

"So what's up with Mick announcing to everyone that we were having dinner tonight?" Sara asked. "Didn't think you'd be so keen to have everyone knowing our business."

"That wasn't my intention," Leonard admitted. "I asked Mick to keep people away tonight since I made dinner for you. Didn't want everyone else trying to join us."

"I appreciate it. Of course, they're just going to make up their own stories about what's going on," Sara pointed out.

"Let them," Leonard said. "Won't be as good as the real thing."

"Hey, boss," Mick said from his post in the doorway to the galley. "No one went in."

"Thanks, Mick," Leonard said.

"You both look hot," Mick said, taking in the pair.

"Thanks, Mick," Sara said.

"You want me to keep guard while you eat?" Mick asked.

"No, you've done enough," Leonard said. "Go ahead and make your pizzas and get out of here."

"Gideon, you heard the man, pizza me," Mick said. "One large cheese and one large meat lovers."

While Mick waited for his food, Leonard led Sara to the table and offered her one of the seats. He opened the bottle of red wine and poured them each a glass.

"Have fun you two," Mick said, taking his pizzas and leaving, instructing Gideon to close the door behind him.

"Alone at last," Sara purred.

"Hold that thought," Leonard said and went to pull a casserole dish from the oven, bringing it to the table.

Sara's delighted laugh made the effort worthwhile.

"You made mac and cheese?" Sara asked.

"From scratch," Leonard confirmed. "It's one of my specialties."

"I think I'm in love," Sara sighed. Both of them ignored the thrill those words evoked.

Once Leonard finally sat down, Sara raised her glass. "What should we toast to?"

"Always having someone to eat with?" Leonard suggested.

"To new beginnings," Sara said.

They clinked glasses before each took a sip. Leonard dished out servings of the pasta and they began to eat.

Sara lifted a forkful of cheesy pasta, blowing away some the steam rising from it to cool it off before taking a bite. Her eyes widened in surprise and delight as she chewed and swallowed.

"This is really good," Sara said. "I had no idea you could cook."

"One of my many hidden talents," Leonard said, glowing internally from the praise. "Mom died when Lisa was just a kid and with my dad usually too drunk to remember to eat himself, let alone feed us, I learned how to make a few things."

"Wouldn't the boxed stuff have been easier?" Sara asked, taking another bite. "Not that I'm complaining. This is amazing."

"Easier, but not as filling. Besides, do you know how many chemicals are in that stuff? Cheese should not be neon orange," Leonard said, his face twisted with disgust as he took a bite.

Sara laughed and sipped at her wine.

Pointing his filled fork at her, Leonard said, "Hey, if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it right."

Sara leaned forward and captured his fork with her mouth, sitting back as she took the contents of it with her. After she'd swallowed, she licked her lips, all the while holding Leonard's eyes. "You're certainly off to a good start."

Leonard remained frozen in place, his mouth hanging slightly open, all of his blood having run south. He licked his lips and took a drink of wine, his empty fork dropping back to his plate.

"I'm glad you like it," he finally managed to say in a normal voice.

"This is one of the nicest things anyone has done for me in a very long time," Sara said, honestly. "The fact that it tastes great is a bonus. I would have been happy just sharing something Gideon made, so long as it was with you."

"That's what I said," Gideon interrupted.

"Can it, Gideon," Leonard snapped, causing Sara to smirk. "Trying to have a private conversation here."

"Canning it," Gideon responded.

"What I was going to say before we were rudely interrupted," Leonard paused to glare at the ceiling in case Gideon was going to interrupt again, "is that it is my pleasure. You're much better dinner company than Mick."

"What, Mick doesn't get prettied up for you?" Sara teased.

"Not since joining this crew," Leonard said.

Sara laughed. "You telling me there's more to your partnership than just thievery and I'm wasting my time here?"

"Partnership is all business, and you are not wasting your time," Leonard said, allowing her to feel the weight of his words.

Sara's breath hitched at the intensity she saw in his eyes.

"Hey, Leonard, what would you say to making this a regular thing?" Sara breathily asked.

"Me cooking or us eating together?"

"Either. Both," Sara said. "Whichever means us being alone together."

"I'd say that's the best proposition that I've gotten in a very long time," Leonard said.

Standing, Sara moved around the table, watching as Leonard pushed his chair back as he read her intent. Sliding onto his lap, her arms going around his neck, Sara said, "I'm not really hungry anymore."

"You know, neither am I," Leonard agreed, his hands settling on her hips.

"But there's still ice cream," Gideon announced.

"Shut up, Gideon," Sara and Leonard said in unison.

It was the last thing that either one of them said for a very long time.

The End