#but I miss how packed like sardines we were

[saintedvictory]

hi buddy i think you would like these pictures of my college dining hall

~ @absinthe-earth-ghoul

The way this looks like the cathedral I grew up going to is insane,,,

Oddly homesick for it, but that is a beautiful dining hall I'd never want to leave

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 3: Bubble Tea

“Hey.” Kyle murmurs, hand lightly grazing over your shoulders to rest on the back of your neck. His palm feels warm on your skin and you unconsciously lean back into it.

“Hm?” You look up from where you were hunched over your phone - definitely not shopping for a new purse on company time.

“Gonna go pick up lunch f’the shop. Want t’ come with? I don’t think I can carry it all myself.” He asks. His eyes are always so soft when he looks at you. Relaxed and bright with that constant slight quirk in the corners of his lips.

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.” You grin, standing quickly and grabbing your wallet out of your purse to shove into your back pocket. Might as well get something for yourself if you’re going out. “Where are we heading?”

“That poke place a couple blocks up.” Kyle nods in the intended direction.

You follow him out of the shop. The weather has begun to warm more. Still cool enough for long sleeves but the sun feels nice on your face as you trot up the street, speed walking to keep up with Kyle and his accursed long legs.

“Switch with me.” Kyle murmurs, hand flattening on your lower back as he steps to the road side of the sidewalk.

You snort, cheeks warming when his hand remains a few beats longer than necessary. “How chivalrous.”

He chuckles. “My grandad always said t’never let a lady walk by the street. Guess it stuck with me.”

As much as you want to tease him about playing into gender roles, you can’t lie and say you don’t like it. That it doesn’t make your heart patter and your stomach flutter. Growing up fat, you never really got the chance to be treated delicately. Femininely. Always expected to be tougher, louder, more masculine. It feels good. Healing, in a way, as stupid as it is.

God, your inner monologue is embarrassing.

The shop is smaller than you expected. Tucked away like many buildings in this downtown with a short, blue awning shading the teal colored door. It’s surprisingly crowded too, people packed in like sardines and filing in and out quickly. The inside is nicely decorated - a few tables off to the side that no one seems to stay at. They more so seem to act as a waiting spot until people get their food and head out. The menu board is shaped like a bright blue, wall-length fish.

“Ladies first.” Kyle grins, opening the door for you. You roll your eyes at him, earning a pinch to your side in return. It’s almost strange how easy things are with him - with all of them. You don’t think you’ve ever been this comfortable around a group of men before. That would probably make you sad if you thought about it for long enough.

Kyle passes you a little clipboard with a stack of papers to customize your poke bowl and a small pen. He begins filling out three for the others, seemingly from memory. You wonder how often they come down here - if it’s their favorite local spot or just convenient. You look over his shoulder, snooping for the others preferences. Apparent Simon likes a lot of spice. Johnny, not so much.

Your eyes widen as you reach the bottom of your menu. “They have boba!”

“You want some?” Kyle grins.

You nod excitedly. Like a kid discovering a new candy. It’s been so long since you got your hands on some bubble tea - if you’d known they had it sooner you would’ve been in here nearly everyday. Then again, maybe it’s good that you didn’t know.

Kyle holds out his hand. You look between it and his face dumbly for a few moments, clutching your order in your hands before putting the pieces together.

“I can get my own!” You insist. “I don’t-“

“Price’s treat, love.” He snags the paper from your hands. “He always pays when we come here.”

“Oh. Okay.” You chew your lip. “I can at least pay for my drink, since it’s extra-“

He just waves you off and marches up to the register. You don’t miss the fact that he pulls out a very shiny credit card. So it’s not Price’s treat. It’s a company treat, eh?

Not that you’re going to complain. Free poke and boba is a dream come true.

Kyle takes your little plastic number, ducking to snag a now freed up table to wait at. They’re tall, causing you to scramble unceremoniously to get up in the heightened chair. You think you see him laughing out of the corner of your eye, but as soon as you face him he’s just sitting with that usual, casual smile of his.

One of the workers brings over your drinks in a little carrier, saying the food will take a minute longer. You’ve never been patient, greedily grabbing your tea and aggressively stabbing through the cover.

“When do you think John’s gonna let you do your first real tattoo?” You ask, kicking your feet under the tall chair.

Kyle shrugs. “He said soon. I think he’s waitin’ for me to’ be less nervous about it. Plus I need to find someone to do it on-“

“You can do it on me.” You blurt without thinking.

He eyes you. “Really?”

You nod excitedly. “I really like your work - at least what I’ve seen of it. It doesn’t have to be anything big. I’m perfectly happy with one your black-only flashes. That way you can start small.”

“I don’t know…”

“Plus, John says I sit real good. I’m not gonna wriggle and fuck you up.” You chew your straw absentmindedly.

“And what do you get out of this?” Kyle cocks and eyebrow, that slight, constant smirk only growing across his face.

You tap your chin. “Bragging rights when you get famous someday. I got the first official Garrick tattoo ever!”

A surprised laugh forces it’s way out of him, sending him into a coughing fit around the drink he was sipping. “Don’t think I’m gonna be that good, love.”

You reach out, resting your hand over his as a strange wave of seriousness overtakes you. “I don’t think John would take you on as an apprentice if he didn’t think so. Plus, you should hear how much he brags about you. It’s almost insufferable.”

There’s something in his eyes as he gives you another once over. It’s slower this time, dragging up your arm and across your features and back down your other arm, coming to an end where your hand lays over his. Kyle turns his hand upward, brushing his two middle fingers over your pulse point. It steals your breath, strangely enough. He hold your hand so gently, barely cupping it in his.

You wish you could tell what he’s thinking. For all Kyle’s honest and kind nature, he’s hard to read. That perma-smirk hides a lot more than you think you or anyone else realizes.

“Alright. I’ll talk t’John about it.” He murmurs, withdrawing his hand.

“Yah. You better.” You grin, leaning back in your seat just as the food comes out.

[carolmunson]

i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.

up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader (is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.) aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song. but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it. this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.

in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore. eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.

"and i'm fading, thinkin': 'do something, babe. say somethin'. lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe. i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"

The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut. 

No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen. Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out. 

And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years. Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating. 

The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it. 

You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!” 

The two  bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?” 

“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”

You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.

“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–” 

“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar. 

“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’

“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”  

“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.” 

“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.” 

“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips. 

“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go. 

“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner. 

The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles. 

“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host. 

“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks. 

“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.” The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant  hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen. 

“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout. 

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.” 

“It’s wild,” Gare laughs. 

“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.” 

The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.

You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.  

“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.

Oh.

Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.

You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you. 

The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car. 

You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.” 

You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.

“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.” 

You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.” 

“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.” 

“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.” 

“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.” 

“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.” 

“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?” 

You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.” 

Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back. 

Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill. 

“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.” 

“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.” 

“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat. 

“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold. 

“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.” 

“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling. 

“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.” “Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits. 

“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.” 

“Great.” 

“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table. 

“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?” 

“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”   

“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“ 

“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh. 

“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–” 

“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work  because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?” 

“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.” 

“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.” 

“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!” 

“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?” He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.

“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans. 

“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.” 

“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.

“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.” 

“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?” 

“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck. 

“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!” 

“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.” 

You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before. 

His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite. 

“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.” 

Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.” 

“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.” 

“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.” 

“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.” 

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.” 

“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…” 

When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.

A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted. 

Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.

You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.

In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers. 

“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep. 

“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand. 

“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–” 

“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger. 

“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?” 

Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.” 

“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.” 

“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.” 

You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.” 

His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.

“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside. 

You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder. 

You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest. 

‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night. 

‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’ 

Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door. 

‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers. 

The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead. 

“How much?” you ask over the music. 

“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear. 

“HOW MUCH?” you yell back. 

“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar. 

The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part. 

A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar. 

“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool. 

“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face. 

“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!” 

She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony. 

“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle. 

“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.” 

“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?” 

“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.” 

“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease. 

“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”

“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.” 

Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.” 

“I love that he’s in love,” you gush. 

“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.” 

There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd. 

Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.

He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny. 

Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it. 

‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’ 

‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again. 

‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’

You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that. 

You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do. 

Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be. 

Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies. 

People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather. 

‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’ 

You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you. 

With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.

The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin. 

“You come here often?” 

Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s. 

“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.” 

Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.” 

You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.

He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you. 

“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?” 

[highvern]

Casual

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings:  toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption, avoidant attachment, hoshi cries, sex but nothing graphic

Length: ~ 3.8k

Note: the ending is inspired by this post. happy bday to my boo, legally its still your bday in california. sorry i made you cry. thank u @wonustars for sitting through the dumpster fire this was

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f], Talk [a, f, s], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

In the past few weeks, something has been different between you and your fuck buddy.

He’s always been relatively excitable, thrilled by life and happy to be wherever you are. But there’s more smiling,  more touching, and more moments that feel like maybe you’re in a relationship you didn’t sign up for because now every time you see him it doesn’t automatically devolve into humping each other until your eyes cross and limbs go numb. 

Tonight is a prime example.

You happen to end up at the same bar (after he told you where he’d be with the optimism you’d show up, because you typically do). It’s early in the night, when pretending not to realize the other is just a few feet away on the opposite side of the room is still appropriate. Or you pretend while Soonyoung not so subtly follows your every move for the right moment to approach. 

You like to act as if it's a coincidence you’d even show up in the first place and that you aren’t wrapped around his finger. Soonyoung, ever indulgent, lets you. He realized after repeated brush-offs that you have to come to him. And you will in your own time; like a cat that will let you look but not touch until it decides to. Make that decision too soon and he’ll end up covered in scratches and alone. 

Your friends aren’t dumb to the charade. They know how you and Soonyoung work despite how overly complex you make it. They don’t push to ask questions, preferring to silently observe the back and forth when you two happen to be in public. Like they’re watching a nature documentary. Maybe they think they’re being subtle when they point out he’s sitting a few tables away or how they spotted him on the way back from the restroom with invisible question marks over their heads blaring ‘so what are you guys?’ 

There isn’t an answer. You and Soonyoung fuck. Sometimes you don’t; like when you were sick or when it's two in the morning and he swears he sleeps better when you’re there. Occasionally, when you feel extra generous, you let him take you out in public and hold your hand. Other times you pretend not to know he’s got his eyes on you from the moment you arrive at a party and go home alone with a handful of missed calls.

It’s…complicated.

So you sit at a table tucked in the corner and stir at the diluted contents of your drink while pointedly avoiding looking to your left where you know a pair of eager brown eyes are waiting to greet you.

“How long do we have to sit here until you go and talk to your lover boy?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismiss the very thought that anyone else is privy to the imaginary game of chess you’re playing against no one but yourself.

“Oh, really?” Lily snorts. “Because he’s been moony-eyed for the past twenty minutes and—”

“Shut up,” you snarl. 

You're under the microscope and there's nowhere to hide. Not at this table at least.

“Would it be so bad if you guys just dated? He likes you and you obviously—”

The end of that sentence rattles in your brain even as you stomp away, parting the crowd loitering at the ball. You scold the moments of weakness that make it obvious. 

It takes all your patience not to bodycheck the people stumbling in your way. Everyone’s packed in tight like sardines, at the mercy of the tide of bodies flowing to and fro. A brief part in the sea gets you to the counter. You barely take a breath before a familiar presence hovers at your shoulder.

“Come here often?” Soonyoung calls in your ear. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps blooming despite the heat.

“Is that the best you can do?” You tease, finding his gaze. “Really?”

He’s warm at your amusement, eyes bright with his own humor or maybe it's the shots you watched Seokmin coax him into from the corner of your eye as you walked through the door. “How about, let me buy your next drink?”

“See if you lead with that I think you’ll be much more successful.”

He snorts before flagging down a bartender and reciting both your orders. The last thing he needs right now is more booze but if things go as planned, he’ll be too distracted to even notice you sipping on the cup meant for him.

 The hand at the base of your spine is calming even in the chaos of the bar, his effort to keep you close as possible like you’d go anywhere. A soothing circle of his thumb burns across the sliver of bare skin below the hem of your shirt makes the world shrink down to just you two.

An easily established routine takes over. Soonyoung crowds you in, pushing you back into one of the stools and assuming the space between your legs. The length of his body locks you firmly in place. His eyes trace your mouth as he talks. Calculating if you’ll let him kiss you or if it’s too early to ask for that just yet.

“You look good.”

“Oh?” you ask with fake innocence. You know what you look like. Short skirt, tight top. Enough skin to make him drool and think about what you’re wearing underneath. Or what you aren’t, given your track record.

“Yeah.” A complete sentence. He’s too preoccupied staring at your bare legs to provide more context. Void of an ounce of shame, he traces the curve of your thigh obscenely without a care who might see and the conclusions they’ll make. 

It’s hot. Temperature wise. Warm hands you wish would dip between your thighs and play with what’s just out of view rather than stroke at the rough hem of your skirt. But Soonyoung isn’t one for public indecency. 

At least not that indecent.

You watch him watch you. The blushed tips of his ears give away exactly what he’s thinking. The memories of you, in the back of his Jeep wearing this very skirt, bouncing on his cock like you’d die without it just last weekend. Blowing his load as you teased him with the idea of cumming inside you without a condom. If he keeps staring then you’ll have no choice but to rush him into the bathroom for a quickie. But tonight, you want him to break first.

“Are you planning to do something about or—”

Your phone is buzzing before you get the chance to finish the thought. It’s probably just your friends giving a fair warning they’re heading out now that you no longer need them to serve as cover for the real reason you’re in a shitty bar on a Friday night. But the name on the screen is one you haven’t thought about in months.

Mingyu (tinder): back in town for the night, u free? [11:34PM]

“Who’s that?” 

You bristle at his accusatory tone, locking your phone and hiding it away. Soonyoung assesses with skeptical eyes, chin jutted like you’re under examination because he decided to snoop over your shoulder.  “What? No one.”

“Doesn’t seem like no one.”

“It’s none of your business.” You shoot back. He’s starting to piss you off.

The feeling is mutual if the hutch in his shoulders is anything to go by. “Sorry I’m confused why some dude is inviting you over at midnight.”

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t matter if you’re confused because you aren’t my boyfriend.” You spit. 

Soonyoung recoils like you slapped the words into his cheek. Cold air floods in between you, filling the newly abandoned space now that he’s stepping back.  

“You’re right, I’m not.” He scoffs after a beat.” Sleep with whoever you want. I’m done.”

Soonyoung leaves you standing there without a second glance, melting into the crowd while you gape. 

Fuck you, you think after the initial shock wears away. The last thing you need is Soonyoung’s permission. He may be the guy you’ve fucked exclusively for the better half of six months but he doesn’t have a monopoly on your time just because you take your clothes off for him. 

Staring at Mingyu’s message, you fire off a response before slipping off the barstool and beelining for the door.

You: send me the address [11:46PM]

The cab ride is filled with Top 40 and the echoes of city noise. A few attempts at conversation fall flat before the driver leaves you alone to stew in silence. Fuming, you stare out the window as streetlights become nothing but streaks in the darkness. Your fingers tap the annoyance out onto leather interior.

Each stop light gives you more time to think about how Soonyoung isn’t your boyfriend. He isn’t your anything. At best he’s an easy fuck that strokes your ego. And even if he asked, which he hadn’t, you don’t do relationships. Commitment isn’t a part of the deal. He takes what you give and he doesn’t complain. At least, not until now.

It’s a casual arrangement for both of your benefit. If he concocted some grandiose illusion it could ever be something more then he’d swiftly come down from that cloud. 

Stubbornness may kill you but there’s a point to prove tonight. That you can do whatever you want, whenever, with whoever you see fit. 

You don’t even realize when the car stops outside a familiar apartment building. 

Mingyu (tinder): lmk when ur outside [12:19AM]

The facade of anger starts crumbling. 

You don’t want to fuck Mingyu. His name hasn’t been at the forefront of your mind in months. None of your old flings have. Even new guys at the bar were placeholders to be ignored after Soonyoung arrived with a dumb joke and too much confidence. 

Somehow, without you realizing, months flew by without an ounce of interest for any guy other than the one you abandoned in a bar. The one guy you’re pretty sure would give you the moon if you asked.

And you screwed it all up to prove a point.

“Sorry, I gave you the wrong address. Can you actually take me to…” you ramble, typing out your final response to someone who you should’ve left firmly in the past.

You: i cant [12:25AM]

After the message goes through, blocking Mingyu’s number is easier than you’d like to admit.

—

The clock ticks closer to the time for early rises to begin rousing when you start losing hope. The carpet outside Soonyoung’s apartment is disgusting but after the first hour, you braved sitting down over the worsening blisters from an impractical shoe choice. Butt numb and phone battery in the single digits, you search for the courage to commute back across town with a bruised ego.

In all the time you’ve spent on the hard ground, not one of his roommates has come home. 

He isn’t aware of your sudden change of heart so there's no reason he’d come rushing home. As far as he’s concerned you're bent in half in some old flames bed without a care for his feelings. Maybe this is how you punish yourself for pretending you’re capable of something like that. Pretending Soonyoung’s feelings haven’t flown to the top of your priorities since that fateful night in his room. Every time you go to his contact the wave of guilt threatens to crush you.

It’s another fifteen minutes before Soonyoung stumbles down the hallway. Alone. 

Even from a distance, evidence of the night after your departure is plain to see. His eyes are glassy and the stench of bar floor rolls off him. Soonyoung is a sentimental drunk but knowing you’re the reason for such a sorry state makes you want to sprint out the door into oncoming traffic.

You feel pathetic and small but he doesn’t even seem to realize you're sitting there as he trips over your legs with a mumbled ‘scuse me,’ which only makes that hole in your chest grow. But you can’t find a word to say. Not with the disappointment clear on his face. 

Disappointment because you were stubbornly refusing to let him in.

It was a mistake. Coming here, leaving the bar, going to the bar, pretending you could do any of this in the first place. Maybe if you stay still he won’t notice you and you can disappear forever once he’s inside. 

But whoever runs things has a vested interest in your love life.

Soonyoung drops his keys after failing to get them in the lock for the nth time. They bounce off the ground and skitter the few inches away where you mourn, gleaming next to your bare thigh. He finally seems to take notice of your presence.

“You’re here?” He teeters, bending at the waist to snatch up his keys and almost ends up head first through the wall. You take mercy and hand them to him instead.

He’s looking straight through you. To the parts you hide beneath snide comments and brush offs, the side that claims none of this is that serious. That he shouldn’t expect anything, that a relationship is so far out of the realm of

“I blocked his number.”

He freezes at the confession, tense around the shoulders like he isn’t even breathing.

It's all too much.

You rock up onto your feet, unbalanced as blood flow is restored to the lower half of your body. You’ve got to get out of here. Somewhere else, anywhere else. Where he isn’t looking at you like that. Halfway down the hall is where you finally hear him speak again.

“Really?” Soonyoung asks, voice flooded with disbelief and maybe something like wonder.

You don’t bother to turn around before answering. “Don’t make it weird.”

More silence. Your shuddering breath and his footsteps fill the hallway. He’s at your back, a hand ghosting along your elbow. “How long have you been here?”

You really don’t want to answer but he needs to hear it. He needs to hear how much you care. Even if it’s scary. 

“Since I left the bar.”

“Don’t leave,” he beckons. 

It sounds like a thank you. Thank you for… not fucking some guy when you could’ve? Thank you for picking him even if you can’t say it out loud? He knows it's a lot, even drunk out of his mind. One day you’ll have to tell him you’d pick him over anything but tonight carries more than you can handle already.

Your hand finds his. A tight grip, sweaty palms not even a consideration because the contact lifts some of the invisible weight off your shoulders.

He ushers you inside, down the hall to his room. In the silent darkness of the apartment, his hands stay on you. Like if for even a second you two aren’t touching you’ll float away. Fingers laced tight as you shyly shuffle behind him.

Your clothes fall to the ground. Not in the rushed heat of usual encounters, but in a desperate need to feel one another: skin on skin. 

Naked in bed, you stake claim to his lap, lost against what comes next. This is usually the easiest part. You know how sex works. But his mouth burns along your palm, savoring the warmth with a long kiss that scratches at your throat. You shake, breath stuttering. Another kiss to your palm, lips gliding across your wrist, your elbow, the curve of your shoulder. Each webs another crack.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper as the dam begins to break.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, voice shaking. 

“You thought I didn’t pick you,” you whimper again, tears welling because you’re embarrassed. Both from how you acted and how you’re crying in the first place. But it feels cathartic. Letting him see the parts no one else gets to witness. 

“A-and I let you.”

“You’re here now. That’s all I care about.”

Somehow he manages to pull you into a tighter hold, crushing your ribs but you don’t need oxygen. You need Soonyoung. You settle in the cradle of his thighs, legs wrapped around his waist and arms locked across his shoulder.

He doesn’t offer a joke to cut the tension. He doesn’t try to play a simpering fool just to see you smile. Soonyoung tangles you in his arms and doesn’t ease up even when you wiggle for more comfort.

When you kiss him, he kisses back. Your mouth opens when he nudges his tongue at the seam of your lips. Arching into his palms at the curve of your spine, you moan as he flips you over and dips under the covers. Your thighs will be bruised come morning but it’s a welcome thought because that means there’s proof of Soonyoung’s claim on you; one you’ve been too stubborn to acknowledge. 

Each stroke of his tongue is another nail in the coffin. Vibrations cue you in that he’s speaking but all you can make out is the break of Soonyoung’s voice when he chants ‘mine,’ into your skin. You refuse to let go of his hand the entire time, while you writhe and shake, brain melting until you shatter with a cry. His fingers stayed interlocked on top of your stomach as your nails bite crescents into the skin. Another reminder that will fade but you look good on him for right now. It’s enough for right now.

His mouth tastes of you when you finally coax him back into another kiss. You lick across his tongue like you could suck away his breath if you tried. 

You fuck him like that. Back in his lap, chest to chest, panting into each other’s mouth in a crude kiss because even an inch of space between your bodies is too much. Not because either of you are horny and need release. It’s a different type of sex you’ve never been familiar with. Closer. Needier.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper again.

“Don’t—fuck—don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” He doesn’t sound sure of it. Maybe you’ll have to talk about what this means later, without the safety of a dark room.

The next apology dies at the tip of your tongue. Focused on nothing but the swell between your thighs, his fingers strumming you into another orgasm you’re unprepared for.

“Soonyoung.” You vibrate into the next wave, pinching tight at his shoulders until his lips find your neck.

You cradle his face between your palms, kissing away whatever worries linger. He doesn't say anything as he spills into the condom; silently refusing let go for what feels like hours, catching your breaths until he slouches back into the mattress and your weight follows.

“I didn’t mean it,” you confess. Your fingers busy etching across the jut muscle along his neck, something to take the focus off how awful you feel.

“Okay…” Soonyoung traces the dip between your shoulder blades; a simple touch leaving you on edge. “What did you mean then?”

“I don’t want…that.” 

“Want what?” His fingers flex. There’s an unusual level of patience from him tonight but rather than annoyance, you’re thankful. You wouldn’t say half the things you should if Soonyoung wasn’t here to ask for them.

“To sleep with other guys.” It’s half of the truth. The more important half, the part lodged in your throat and refusing to come out, is that you don’t want to lose him. And you’ll do what it takes not to let that happen. But you don’t elaborate on that thought.

“Good.” He smiles against your temple. “I don’t want to sleep with other guys either.”

A weak joke but it’s a start back towards normal. Soonyoung might just understand these feelings more than you think. Thank God someone does.

You both pretend to fall asleep after that, silently lingering in the liminal space between dreams and consciousness. Your cheek on his chest, the beat of his heart lulling your own down from an anxious rush. His arms a cocoon from whatever waits on the other side of daylight for you two to figure out.

Together.

Strips of sun slowly brighten between the slats of the blinds. A signal that it’s time to test whatever happened in the last few hours under the daylight.

“Wanna get breakfast?” Soonyoung asks, trailing gentle pecks across your bare shoulder.

“Waffles sound good.”

“Waffles it is.”

In the bright lights of the diner, your head throbs. Half from the hangover threatening to tie your stomach in knots and the other half from crying. Your eyes are still puffy, throat sore from such an emotional display in the privacy of Soonyoung’s room.

Soonyoung sits across the table, fingers tangled with yours on top for everyone to see. A proud declaration you fight not to shy away from. Even as he digs into his food he doesn’t stop tracing the back of your thumb with his own. Second nature. You should let him do it more often. It’s a nice feeling.

Seeing couples constantly touching in public before was something you watched with disgust. Except now you get it. Because despite the rational knowledge that you’d certainly be fine if he let go, there's also the feeling that you’d dissolve in the wind if he even considered the idea.

You’ve picked apart your plate, remains of decimated waffles and eggs pushed across the booth for his consumption. Soonyoung fumbles with the shaker and douses the scrambled yellows in mountainous trails of salt. He glances up at you, cheeks rounded in shock like you’d be able to help him. Biting back a conspiratory smile, you start shoveling the mess into a napkin.

Soonyoung stares, silent as you impale a slice of strawberry on the end of your fork and pop it into your mouth. It’s salty too but you wash it away with a swig of cheap coffee.

“What?” you ask. 

He answers with a peck to the back of your hand, diving into the more edible scraps that escaped his mess as if none of it happened in the first place.

In a sudden moment of clarity, a longing rooted deep in your chest rears its head. You don’t know what love feels like but maybe this is the start of it.

Sitting in a shitty dinner, wearing his clothes, while Soonyoung laughs at some joke you don’t catch because you’re too busy trying to find your breath. It’s good though. Exciting.

But the moment passes with a beat of your heart. It’s just you and him. He’s your something, you the same for him.

And that’s enough right now.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29

series: @pinklemonadeflav @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz @vixensss

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[lemmetreatya]

Maybe It’s Foreboding (Or Not) — Miguel x fem!Reader

word count: 1.9k 

content: no extreme warnings, modern au, fem!reader, reader uses female pronouns, reader commutes to work by train, reader knows basic spanish, hc that miguel speaks both irish and spanish — and that he’s irish on his father’s side (idk if this is correct or not), use of petnames, id say miguel is a bit ooc — but hes not — he just doesn’t have all that canon trauma going on sjsksk

FINALLY DID SOMETHING OF GOOD QUALITY FOR ONCE????? had to get back on my shit yktfv!!! also psa for the translations — i do not speak fluent spanish and not a lick of irish so please!! if there’s anything incorrect/needs changing, dont be afraid to tell me!! hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

Your usual commute to work was barely ever eventful. It mostly consisted of you getting onto your train — hoping you’d get a seat — and feeling despondent every time you noticed no seats were available. 

Which was expected: You had to use a busy train in order to get to work on time. Any earlier and you’d have to wonder around your office’s surroundings to waste time and any later would have you clocking in late. 

This timed train was so much more convenient for pace but it just never granted you those graceful minutes to sit down. 

But alas, you stuck with it, because what else was there to complain about? The trains weren’t too full so it didn’t mean you were squashed like packed sardines and it was relatively quiet due to most passengers being too mellow at this time of morning to make any lucrative noise. 

“Sorry, Miss.” 

At first, you ignored the deep sounding words, assuming they could have been for anyone. But then a soft tap bounced just over your thigh and so you looked down to see what the disturbance was. 

Looking up at you was a man with focused eyes. He wore a plain black suit with matching trousers. His white shirt had two buttons undone and he wore no tie. You couldn’t help but noticed how tossled his hair was. Clearly he was on his way to some type of occupation.

“Would you like to sit down?” He asks. 

“Oh! I…”

You lean off from the pole you were supporting yourself on and adjust your bag on your soldier. Maybe this man was pitying you because you looked tired. You honestly weren’t and were genuinely just being comfortable, but you guess your lax composure compelled this reaction from him. 

“No. Sorry, I was just being lazy. I’m fine, you don’t need to give up your seat for me.” 

You shake your head and deny his request but the man continually persists. He was already starting to get up from his seat. 

“No, en serio, sit.” He moved his briefcase over with his foot. “Can’t have a pretty lady like you standing now, can we?”

And it’s not like you agreed; Flattery of any kind from a stranger was always met with caution, but concerning he was going out of his way to give you a seat, you guess it’d be rude to deny it. 

“Oh…How kind.” You stagnantly laugh. 

The man took your place from before, now standing over you as he held onto the pole. He placed his briefcase between his feet. As you finally sit down and change your bag from your arm to your lap, you look up at the man with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” 

He only smiles at you acutely before offering you a curt nod. That was the only interaction you had the whole ride before you got off at your stop and made your way to work. 

The next time you see the man isn’t until two days after the first ordeal and towards the end of the week. 

He sees you before you see him, regarding he boarded the train sometime before you, and instantly flags you over.

“Miss!”

Weirdly, his call made you smile, and you pot on over, not expecting much. 

“You really don’t have to.” You try as he gets up and out of his seat. He’s however already shaking his head. 

“Don’t be silly. I already told you why you do so I don’t wanna hear anymore complaining.”

With rolled lips, you nod as you meekly sit down. Having an abash austere about you, you struggle to look up at him as you speak. 

“Thank you. It’s very kind of you.” 

“No need for thanks.” 

You wait several seconds before looking up to give him a communal look of gratitude but you find he’s already looking down at you. You find difficultly baring his coarse stare and so you look back down at your lap. 

Throughout the ride, you can’t help but notice how his leg kept innocently brushing against yours. 

Once again, no more words were shared between you and like before, you get up and leave for your stop once it comes. 

“You know how this goes.”

This is about the sixth time the man has offered his seat up for you, and quite frankly you do know how it goes, but it just never seems like a good enough reason to therefore take his seat. 

“Señor.” You muse with a light smile as you board the train. “You really don’t have to.” 

“Oh, but I really do. Come. Sit.”

The man is already out of the seat, hand widely displaying towards it — it’s yours. 

Despite the seatless train, most people know by now not to sit in it’s stead. The man himself is tall and wide enough to deter anyone from trying, but most reoccurring passengers know the deal as well as you do.

As you take your seat, the man smiles down at you. His smiles have gotten a lot warmer over the various interactions. Per usual, he places his briefcase down near your feet and brush his knees with yours. You believe it’s going to be another wordless journey but the man opens his mouth, closes it, before saying: 

“And please, call me Miguel.” 

He jogs your knee with his, so you were aware it was you he was talking to, but you still looked up at him with a slight expression of confusion. For some reason, it was as if moths — the Night’s Butterfly — were flitting around within the neck of your stomach. 

“Sorry?”

He sighs out of his nose. It was not out of annoyance, but as if he too was experiencing some emotions of nervousness. The man however had enough confidence to look down at you and attempt to gain your gaze. 

“As opposed to señor, call me Miguel.” 

Your mouth lets out a small ‘ah’.

“Miguel.” You repeat. 

So his name was Miguel. 

It suited him, and made slight sense concerning he seemed to know Spanish well, but even more so because it was as if he had metamorphosed right in front of you. It wasn’t a physical change, but being able to put a name to a face definitely altered your perception of him. It was as if he’d become more human. 

With a soft hum, you look up at him with an inquisitive contort. 

“Miguel.” You taste his name in his mouth once more. “Is that what you’d like me to call you or is that your actual, real, government name?” 

The man’s expression was unreadable. 

“Well, what do you think?”

You shrug, unsure why he’s asked the question, but you give your answer anyways. 

“I’d think it’d be kinda stupid for you to give your government name to a stranger on the train. So I’m guessing it’s a nickname or at least a pseudo one.” 

Miguel’s eyes clip towards the moving view behind you, before training back onto your face. 

“Looks like I’m kinda stupid then.” 

You pause, register what he’s said, and then let out a tinkling laugh as you shake your head meticulously. Miguel chuckles a few seconds after you, and he can’t help watching you as he does so. 

There’s a pause. 

“I’m not much of a stranger anymore though, right? We’re more acquaintances than anything.” He tries. 

“But Miguel, you don’t even know my name.”

“Only because you haven’t told me.” He shrugs.

This is the most quick-fire that he’s ever been but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it. 

“You want my government name or the pseudo one?” You muse. 

“It’s only fair that you give me the government one.” He catches himself before adding more gently, “Only if you’re comfortable doing so and kinda stupid like me.”

Once again, you can’t help the smile that braces your mouth. You tell him your name, the government one, and Miguel knocks your knees together in concur. 

“Ah. Hermosa nombre por una hermosa dama.” [1]

He says, and regardless of whether you understood or not, you knew what he was getting at. If his words didn’t convince you then it was the silky look of— admiration? That gave him away. 

Your cheeks heated, and your head dipped. All you could force out was a humble Thank You. 

“Where I’m from, we have this saying.” 

Miguel angles his breakfast snacks in your direction and you wordlessly take a small handful. 

Surprisingly, your usual train was a lot quieter this morning. Maybe it was due to school holidays season, but there was enough space for you and Miguel to both have a seat. Your journey so far had been non-stop chatter. 

“Más í an ceann í, beidh a fhios ag do chroí sula ndéanann tú.” [2] He reprises wisely. 

It wasn’t Spanish, and you knew Miguel spoke Irish (“That old bastard was only good for one thing.”), so the translation was pretty much lost on you. 

“Is that so?” You say with a hum and a crunch. 

Miguel is also crunching on some of his snack, palm covering his mouth as he chucks the small pebbles towards the back of his throat before he’s shaking his head. 

“Nope, that was a complete fucking lie. No such saying exists like that, I just made it up on the spot.” Miguel leaves room for you to let out a burst of laughter. “But, if it was a saying, I’d live by it like it was gospel.”

Shaking your head, you finish the portion of snacks that were in your mouth before you reply. 

“Maybe you should paten it then. Make sure no one else gets the chance in saying it’s the gospel they wrote.” 

“Maybe I should patent it…” Miguel echoes to himself with a deep laugh. “Yeah, maybe I should.” 

The both of you lull into a comfortable silence. The sort of silence you could fall into with a long time friend who was low maintenance, or a family member who you tolerated sharing the living room space with. It was the type of stilling that didn’t require speech but welcomed it if it came. Mornings with Miguel were the calm before the inevitable storm and the small pick-me-up that pushed you out of bed. 

But then as you pondered how he made you feel, you realise that you only knew Miguel within the context of your work commute. You’d only ever spoken to this man within the short time that you travelled to work; Never before, never after. Had you gotten just one train earlier or later — heck, one carriage — different that fateful day, it would have inevitably changed the course of your life and the starting foundation of the friendship (?). 

Life truly was funny in how it dealt it’s cards. 

“What does it mean anyways?” You ask with piqued interest. 

Miguel makes a WTF face, a face he made often, before he’s scrunching up his packet of finished snacks and dumping it within the blue convenience store bag he had. You recognise that everything he’d purchased was in Spanish. 

“What does what mean? Be more specific.” 

“Your fake saying you lied about.” 

Miguel turns his head to look at you, those deep insightful eyes of his analysing you, searching for something. You’re not sure if he found what he was looking for. Whether he did or not, you wouldn’t know. 

The man only turns forwards again and snorts. 

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head about it.” He concludes. “You wouldn’t want to know.” 

________________________________

[1]: Beautiful name for a beautiful lady 

[2]: If she’s the one, your heart will know before you do

[koenigami]

synopsis: that one time you accidentally lost ushijima in a mall on christmas. tags: fem!reader, fluff a/n: helloww sweet @ohtokki, your secret santa here! wishing you a wonderful time with your family and friends!<33 i really hope you like this little something i wrote for you and ushiwaka^^ it's actually my first time writing for him so i hope it's not too ooc ehe..

Like in a crammed can of sardines, people tried to navigate through the crowded streets and stores. Some of them looked for last minute gifts while others enjoyed the mesmerising decorations and lights ornamenting the city that seemed even brighter and more vivid once dusk fell. Watching some of the people rush down the halls of the mall you were currently strolling through, arms packed with packages and bags, wide and frantic eyes glancing from one shop window to another, you were more than relieved that Ushijima and you belonged to the second category of people.

“Wow, good thing we bought everything at - " Losing a nearly 6’4 tall boyfriend was hard. "Toshi?" But not impossible.

Especially in a crowded place like this one. With a deep sigh, you looked around, hopefully trying to spot Ushijima somewhere in your proximity though apparently it was not going to be that simple. A young man accidentally bumped into you. The pink gift bag he was carrying slipped out of his hand, though with a hectic hand gesture he managed to grasp it before it touched the floor. “I’m so sorry, Miss!” The teenager blushed and quickly bowed his head before scurrying off. 

Meanwhile somewhere in the same mall, Ushijima paced from one shop entrance to another, curiously peeking over other customers’ heads, shoulders slumping every time he did not spot you. The “E” in the corner of his phone display mocked him when he pulled it out of the pocket of his jacket, and it seemed like no store nearby offered free wifi for him to at least send you a quick message.

Of course he could have anticipated that the shopping centre would be this packed today, though when you had asked him to accompany you to get your favourite dessert from the patisserie that was supposed to be somewhere around here, Ushijima had not been able to decline. 

A soft tug on his pants pulled his attention away from his phone, and instead of a bright screen, he was gazing into big, teary eyes as a little girl shyly stared up at him, her height barely reaching up to his thigh. “Um, you’re ‘Shijima-san, right?” Had he not crouched down to her height, he would have probably not even been able to hear her question over the loud Christmas music that all of a sudden started playing in the background. 

“Yes.” He nodded, somehow not finding it in him to correct her mispronunciation of his name, and instead patiently waited for her to continue. “My Nii-chan always says you’re the coolest so- uh, will you help me find him and mommy?” There was a light shake in her small, gloved hands as she played with one of her dark pigtails, the glittery red bows in them sparkling with every movement of her head. 

A curt nod of his was enough to make the little girl smile as if he had just now shown her the entire world, and once he picked her up like she weighed nothing to place her on his shoulders, he indeed did show her an entirely different kind of world. Ushijima’s hands swallowed her much smaller ones, making sure that she was safely positioned and holding on tight. So this is what a giant’s view looks like, she thought, completely in awe about how she could truly see everything and everyone from up there. 

“Where was the last time you have been with your mom and brother?” He inquired and looked around for… not exactly sure who. A panicked looking mother? A similarly frantic looking boy? While at the same time trying to catch a glimpse of you amidst the people moving past him. 

“We wanted to buy cupcakes!” Her little legs dangled excitedly down the volleyball player’s borad shoulders while she explained that her mom was planning to buy mentioned cupcakes for her fourth birthday. “But then poof! Nii-chan and mommy were gone.” She gestured with her hands as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Poof, huh? Sounded pretty familiar to him when he thought about how you were one minute walking right beside him and the next- 

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and Ushijima carefully fished it out with one hand while the other made sure the girl on his shoulders would not fall over. 

“Hello? Toshi, where are you?” The sound of your voice eased the tension in his shoulders and he did not dare to budge from the spot that, thank god, provided him with some decent signal. 

The little girl on his shoulders involuntarily eavesdropped on the giant’s conversation since, with whoever he was talking to, the small gentle smile on his face made it obvious that talking to them made him clearly happy. 

“I’m on my way to the patisserie. There’s this girl I just met and she-” 

“But we have just been there? And what girl?” It was not a rare occurrence for Ushijima to get held up by fans, yet right now you really just wanted to get home as soon as possible. The crowded space and your missing boyfriend were slowly but surely getting to you and tiring you out so much that you could not help but sound a little snappy over the phone. Whatever fangirl he was dealing right now, he better- 

“Love, she’s four.” 

"Huh?" Oh. 

You loosened the woollen scarf around your neck once you heard your boyfriend’s breathy chuckle on the other end of the line, a light heat creeping up your neck out of sheer embarrassment. Manoeuvring your way through the slowly dissipating crowd, you listened attentively to Ushijima as he explained the little girl’s predicament as well as his current location to you. Since it seemed that you were not too far away from them, you agreed on meeting them at a flower shop in front of which they were currently standing.

“Was that your girlfriend?” The little girl asked curiously once Ushijima hung up, both his hands now securely resting back on her thighs. “Did she also get lost?” 

“You could say it like that. But she’ll get here soon and then we will go to look for your family together, alright?” 

“Yes! Thank you, Shijima-san!” She exclaimed gratefully, her arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug that made his heart swell. Remembering that she was now even taller than the giant himself, she figured that she could help him too find someone dear to him.  “So, what does she look like?” 

“Hm? Well, she’s wearing a long coat, a thick white scarf, she has long brown-” 

“Is she pretty?” 

Ushijima was a little taken aback by her question, since she made it sound as if an answer to it would be more helpful to pinpoint you than a detailed description of your appearance. Yet with a deep sigh and significant warmth in his eyes, he answered truthfully. “Yes, very so.” 

And somehow, as if satisfied with his answer, the little girl quietly looked ahead of herself and rested her chin on top of his head. With each passing minute, the mall got emptier, customers wrapped up their purchases before leaving, cash registers in certain shops looked less busy, and even an employee who was wearing a santa costume looked like he had finished his shift as he walked past Ushijima, waving kindly at the girl who happily reciprocated the gesture. 

“There!” The girl suddenly perked up after noticing a young woman hurry towards them with a fond smile on her face. 

And how could you not smile when the sight of your lover with such a sweet looking young girl perched on top of his shoulders was so endearing to you. You approached them finally and reached up to greet the girl with a light squeeze to her calf. 

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable over there. What’s your name, sweetheart?” 

“Chiyo!” She answered with a bright toothy grin before she fervently started to tell you about how she had gotten lost and found "Shijima-san".

Eventually, you made yourself on the way to the patisserie where you hoped to find Chiyo’s mother and brother, since it was the only place where you could get fresh pastries at this time of the day. By the way she clung to Ushijima, you could tell that she had warmed up to him pretty fast, and the same could be said about him. He looked so effortlessly handsome as he carried the child in a way that you would think he had never done anything else in his life. In a way that made you wonder what it would be like to have your own little gremlin sit on top of him and call him a “giant”. 

Warmth suddenly engulfed your left hand, and his rare physical display of affection astonished you a slightest bit. But as he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb stroking the back of it back and forth, he simply stated matter-of-factly. 

“Don’t want to lose you again.” 

Right, Mr. Shijima, you thought knowingly. Admitting that your short lived disappearance had made him feel uncomfortable and that going through the same dilemma would probably make him age a few months more- that was definitely not something he was going to admit today. 

However, when he had to put Chiyo back down and watch her run over to her Nii-chan, who coincidentally was the same young man who had earlier bumped into you, Ushijima had to admit that he was a little dejected about the fact that his adventure with the little girl was over so soon.    

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 15 | SR

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - As the summer begins, Spencer unexpectedly hits it off with a single mom he meets at the pool. The two of you separately try to navigate dating new people.

A/N - we’re just gonna let Spencer have a pseudo happy relationship for like a hot minute and let him realise he misses reader. This will not last forever, I promise.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - moody teenager, Spencer and reader both trying to move on, Spencer trying to flirt, mentions of past abusive relationship, divorce, drunk driving and prison time (none of which pertain to Spencer or reader), mentions of age gap between consenting adults, out of control kids, overwhelmed Luke and Garcia, dog vomit, use of the word “bitch” quite a lot, making out.

WC - 5.9k

Chapter 15 - Happier

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you,

But ain't nobody love you like I do.

Promise that I will not take it personal, baby,

If you're movin' on with someone new.

The BAU returned home from their case four days later and Luke called Spencer in regards to helping train his wayward dog. 

In those four days Spencer threw himself into summer activities with his daughters to stem his need for alcohol. 

On Monday the temperature skyrocketed suddenly, over ninety degrees which was unusual for Virginia. Even with the AC cranked up the house was like a sauna. So somewhat reluctantly he’d taken them to the local pool. 

And he got a whole lot more than he bargained for. 

Unsurprisingly the pool had been packed and he only managed to secure one deck chair but Lily and Daisy didn’t intend to sit with him anyway. 

He’d already slathered them in sunblock before they left the house but insisted on putting more on them when they arrived. 

Lily didn’t mind so much but Daisy fussed, uttering things like “god dad you’re so embarrassing” while he simply tried to stop her from burning in the sun. 

As soon as he was finished with them, they ran off towards the pool, leaving him alone on his sole deck chair. 

He rubbed some more sunblock on his face, arms and shins, the only skin exposed to the elements. He left his t-shirt on, not particularly enjoying the idea of being half naked around a packed pool full of strangers. 

He brought a bag full of books, given his reading speed he’d need them to stay entertained while his kids played in the pool. 

He settled back in the chair, laying his head back and swinging his legs up, plucking out the first book. 

It was noisy and busy, patrons packed in like sardines in a tin. It wasn’t exactly the relaxing summer vacation he’d had planned. 

The sun was hot and heavy in the sky and he already felt the sweat gathering at his temples.  

Kids ran rampant screaming and yelling at one another while fathers bellowed to their children to behave. With the exception of the beach, this was probably the last place he ever wanted to be. 

He opened the book to the first page while glancing out at the pool. Lily and Daisy were together in the shallow end, Daisy holding her little sister's hand. 

It made his heart swell. The girls had their problems from time to time but on the whole they got on really well. Daisy was always protective of her younger sibling, even if Lily annoyed her sometimes. 

He looked back at his book and started to read, glancing up at the girls every few minutes to ensure they were still ok. 

About twenty minutes passed before he felt like he was being watched. 

He frowned to himself, those old FBI instincts never leaving him. He closed his book and turned to his left. Low and behold there was someone on the chair beside him watching him intently.

“Sorry,” she blushed a little as Spencer regarded her. “I was amazed how deep in concentration you were given everything going on.” 

“Right,” he smiled, nodding his head. “Guess I’m good at switching off outside stimuli.” 

She smiled at him, a really pretty smile in Spencer’s opinion. She had dark, almost black hair which was tied up off of her face and dazzling blue eyes. 

“Lucky you, I wish I could do that.” She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of her chair and Spencer found himself doing the same. “I’m Blair.” 

She held out her hand and Spencer shook it.

“Spencer.” He replied. 

“Which one is yours?” Blair nodded towards the pool. 

Spencer glanced around to see Daisy floating on her back in the water while her little sister spun herself around in circles, sending small waves crashing about. 

“The brunette in the red bathing suit and the little one with the curly hair spinning about.” He smiled at his girls. “Yours?” 

“Sitting on the edge, hasn’t taken his eyes off of your eldest.” She laughed. 

Spencer’s eyes gravitated towards a boy around Daisy’s age on the edge of the pool. His eyes, that looked just like his mothers, were staring directly at his daughter. 

He had a head of floppy dark hair, he looked to be tall even though he was sitting down. He awkwardly played with his hands in his lap whilst watching Daisy gracefully drift in the pool. 

“Maybe we’ll have to make an introduction.” Spencer laughed as he looked back at Blair. 

He did not miss the way her eyes glanced down to his left hand and he couldn’t help the way he returned the favour. 

“Single dad?” She asked with a slightly melancholy smile. 

“Yeah, me and their mom split up.” He nodded. “You?” 

“Cameron’s dad was…not a nice man.” She replied, pulling a face. 

Spencer could read between the lines. 

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.” Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“It’s ok. He’s not around anymore, hasn’t been for a long time.” She forced a smile and even if it wasn't genuine it was still so pretty. “We were going to go for ice cream after this. Maybe you and your girls want to join us? We could introduce Cameron and…”

“Daisy. And the little one is Lily.” 

“Cute names.” Blair smiled again and this time it was genuine. 

“Not my choice, but thanks.” He laughed dryly. “And yes to ice cream. I think it’s safe to say we would all really enjoy that.” 

“Great.” 

“Great.” Spencer repeated dumbly, getting a little lost in Blair's eyes. 

For the first time in a long time, Spencer felt something akin to decent. 

***

He and Blair spent the next hour talking about anything and everything, his bag of books long forgotten. 

She was the manager of an art gallery near DuPont circle, born and raised in the district. Her and her husband were high school sweethearts, marrying when they were just twenty two and having Cameron two years later. 

She explained as much as her ex having a temper which didn’t manifest until after Cameron was born. She described him as controlling and intimidating but Spencer could tell by the way she shrunk a little as she spoke about him that he’d been abusive. 

She said the last time she saw him was around the time Cameron turned ten, when he was being sentenced to prison time after a drunk driving incident where he’d killed two people. 

She’d sent divorce papers to his lawyer a month later. 

At thirty eight she was six years Spencer’s junior, but he’d always had a bit of a thing for a younger woman. It was certainly a pattern, both you and Maeve were younger than him which probably said all it needed to.

After a while, during a conversation about literature, Spencer felt a wet body suddenly wrapping around him from behind. 

“Daddy, I’m bored.” Lily threw her arms around his neck, cuddling into his back. 

“Hey pumpkin, where’s your sister?” He pulled her out from behind him and into his lap. 

Lily pointed over his shoulder to where Daisy was strolling towards them, a lanky young man at her side. 

He looked at Blair and they smiled at each other. 

“You make a friend, Daisy?” Spencer looked back at her. 

“Uh, yeah. This is Cam. This is my dad.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Daisy, Lily, this is Blair. Cameron’s mom. We were going to go for ice cream with them, how does that sound?” 

“Ice cream!” Lily screeched, wriggling in Spencer’s lap. 

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his giggling daughter. 

“Sure, why not?” Daisy shrugged like she couldn’t care less as did Cameron.

Typical teenagers, Spencer thought. 

He dried off Lily and had Daisy take her to the restrooms so they could both get changed. Cameron stayed as he hadn’t gone in the pool and didn’t have his wet clothes to change out of. 

Spencer and Blair packed up their things and once the girls were back they left their respective cars at the pool and walked the two blocks to the ice cream place. 

Daisy refused to sit with the adults and she and Cameron got their own table. Lily tried to sit with them too but her sister shooed her away. 

Pouting due to be shot down by Daisy, she grew clingy and snuggled right up to Spencer while she ate her ice cream. 

“Looks like they’re hitting it off.” Blair spoke between mouthfuls of her scoop, nodding towards the two teens. 

“Looks that way.” Spencer nodded, feeling Lily’s ice cream dripping onto his shorts. “Lil, sweetheart, be careful please.” 

“Sorry daddy.” She pouted. 

Spencer and Blair continued to chat while Lily sulked by her dads side and the teens kept to themselves. 

After a while Daisy appeared by their table, arms folded across her chest. 

“Can we go to the pool again tomorrow?” She asked him. 

“Can I assume Cameron is going to the pool tomorrow?” He teased her. 

“Dad shut up!” She huffed. “You’re so embarrassing.” 

“Was I going to be consulted?” Blair asked her son as he joined them. 

Cameron shrugged, looking equally the part of moody teenager as Daisy did. 

“I thought we were going to the Smithsonian tomorrow? There was that exhibit you wanted to look at.” Spencer asked his daughter. 

“No, that sounds lame.” She shook her head. 

“I don’t think it sounds lame.” Cameron nudged her arm gently. 

“No?” She smiled at him, practically giving him heart eyes. 

“Can we go too mom?” Cameron turned to Blair. 

“As long as they don’t mind the company, I don’t see why not.” Blair’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Spencer and Spencer smiled a little bashfully. 

“That would be great.” He nodded. 

“Gross, get a room.” Daisy scoffed, turning and skulking off again, Cameron close behind. 

“Please never grow up.” He whispered to Lily, placing a kiss on her head. 

“Ok daddy.” She nodded, mouth smeared with her mint choc chip. 

***

Spencer and Blair exchanged numbers before going their separate ways. On Tuesday the five of them met up at the Smithsonian. 

As was expected, Daisy and Cameron went on ahead while Spencer, Blair and Lily strolled behind them. 

Conversation with Blair flowed easily, as if he’d known her his whole life. They had a lot in common, including being single parents with issues towards their exes. 

Maybe she was exactly what Spencer needed. It was nice to talk to someone who understood him, who understood where he’d been. Blair took his mind off everything going on in his life, eased his troubles with her smile. 

They ended up spending the whole day together, it seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. As the kids were getting into their cars, Spencer and Blair hung back. 

“I had a really nice time today.” She smiled that easy smile at him and he reciprocated. 

“So did I.” He agreed.

“I wondered if maybe you’d be interested in doing something again. Maybe without the kids?” She shrugged shyly. 

“I would like that a lot.” He nodded. “The girls only go to their moms every other weekend but I can get a sitter.” 

“When were you thinking?” 

“As soon as humanly possible?” He confessed which made her laugh. 

“Eager?” She chuckled lightly, a sound Spencer really enjoyed. 

“Maybe a little.” He laughed too. “My friends have pretty demanding jobs though and they're out of state at the moment. The minute they’re back I can get one of them to sit the girls and I’d love to take you to dinner.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Blair nodded, stepping a little closer and placing a gentle kiss on Spencer’s cheek. “See you soon, Spencer.”

“You most certainly will.” He swallowed, watching her get into her car before he moved towards his own. 

He smiled the whole drive home. 

***

On Wednesday he and the girls stayed home. The temperature dropped a few degrees and they mostly played in the yard with Taco. 

On Thursday Daisy went to the mall with Meredith and Meredith’s mother so Spencer took Lily and Taco to the park. 

In the evening Luke called to tell him they’d arrived back from their case and arranged to come over on Friday to help with his dog problems. 

“One more thing,” Spencer said before Luke had a chance to hang up. 

“Shoot,” Luke replied. 

“I don’t suppose you and Garcia want some quality time with the girls tomorrow night do you?” 

“Sick of them already? Man, it's gonna be a long summer.” Luke laughed. 

“It’s not that.” Spencer chewed his lip. 

“Oh,” Luke read between the lines. “You and Y/N make up?” 

Spencer hated the way his chest tightened hearing your name and tried to ignore it. 

“Uh, not exactly.” He sighed. “I might have met someone else.” 

“Jeez, you’re like a woman magnet recently.” Luke laughed. “How are you finding these women?”

“I met her at the pool. She’s a single mom and she’s great, really great. We’ve hung out with the kids but I want to take her dinner.” 

“Sure, Garcia and I can come by and look after the girls.” 

“Or…” Spencer chewed his lip again. “They could come to your place?” 

There were a few moments of silence in which Luke was once again reading between the lines. 

“Right,” the older man started to laugh again. “Can’t bring a date home when you’ve got kids there. Got it.” 

“That makes me sound like an ass.” Spencer sighed. “But you know, on the off chance that’s on the cards…”

“They can come to my place. I’ve got the guest room so I’d they don’t mind sharing then it’s no issue for me.” 

“Have I told you that you are the best?” 

“Not lately, no.” Luke rolled his eyes. 

“Well, you are. Oh and please don’t tell anyone.” 

Luke chuckled to himself, shaking his head before he responded. 

“See you tomorrow, lover boy.” 

***

You stood on the curb outside of the restaurant, hugging your arms around your waist whilst thinking, not for the first time tonight, why am I doing this? 

It was your first official date with Sam, your old college friend and now you were here you didn’t know why. 

The two of you had been close in college and you’d always had a little crush on him. He was smart and handsome and charming but you’d always remained just friends. After college you’d lost touch. 

When you’d bumped into each other a few weeks ago you’d picked back up like no time had passed. You’d had dinner as friends, gotten coffee a few times but then he’d asked you out on a date. 

If you’d never met Spencer, going on a date with your college crush would have been like all your wildest dreams come true. But you had met Spencer, and along the way forgotten all about Sam. 

And now you were outside of the restaurant, looking in on him through the window, this was the last place in the world you wanted to be.

You liked Sam, there was still a spark between you. But he wasn’t Spencer. 

As you were considering turning and leaving, calling him and telling him you’d come down with something, he spotted you through the window. 

He waved at you and offered you that devilishly attractive smile and you waved back, trying to push down all thoughts of Spencer as you forced yourself inside. 

He stood as soon as you neared the table and pulled you into his strong arms. His musky cologne smelt delicious and for a moment you were able to cast Spencer Reid from your mind. 

“You look absolutely beautiful.” Sam beamed at you as he pulled away. 

“Thank you.” You blushed a little, smoothing down the front of your sunflower yellow sundress. 

Sam held your chair out for you and you slid into it, making yourself comfortable while he made his way to his own seat. 

“I ordered a bottle of Merlot, I hope that’s ok? I remember it being your favourite.” 

“Wow, good memory.” You smiled a little nervously. 

“I never forgot a single thing about you.” He confessed, placing his napkin in his lap. “I had the biggest crush on you in college.” 

“You did?” Your mouth fell open. 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t exactly subtle.” He chuckled. 

“I honestly had no idea. I wish I had, because I also had a huge crush on you.” You felt your cheeks burning. 

“Well damn,” Sam laughed, shaking his head. “I guess we have a lot of lost time to make up for.” 

“I guess so.” You nodded as your wine was brought over. 

You perused your menus and soon ordered, and the two of you fell into comfortable conversation. That is until the topic of your dating history was brought up. 

Sam admitted he’d dated a lot but never managed to settle down. When he turned the question back to you, you took a large sip of wine as Spencer reentered your brain. 

“Honestly I haven’t really dated all that much. I was busy I guess. There was one guy, more recently, but it didn’t work out.” You chewed awkwardly on the inside of your cheek. 

“The professor?” 

“Huh?”

“You mentioned the professor you were working for, Reid? I noticed you got a little uncomfortable when you spoke about him and I wondered if there was a history.” Sam was smiling at you but you couldn’t return it. 

“Yeah that was him.” You took another sip of wine. “He was…complicated. Two kids, an ex-wife who he was most certainly still in love with even though he would pretend otherwise.” 

“Jeez,” Sam pulled a face. “That is complicated.” 

“Tell me about it.” You sighed.

“Well, I’m just about as uncomplicated as they come.” He shot you one of those smiles that always made your knees a little weak. 

“I like uncomplicated.” You smiled back. 

“And I like you.” He slid his hand across the table and threaded his fingers with your own. 

And when he touched you like that, Spencer was once again the furthest thing from your mind. 

***

Luke made some progress with Taco which was more than Spencer expected. After a few gruelling hours the dog was responding to the commands of sit and stay which was impressive if you asked Spencer. 

Luke told him it wouldn’t be easy, Taco wasn’t a puppy and therefore wouldn’t be as easy to train but Luke was certainly up to the challenge. 

When the evening rolled around Spencer got ready for his date and Luke took the girls and Taco back to his place where Penelope was meeting them. 

Spencer was strangely nervous as he got ready, but not necessarily in a good way. He remembered the excitement he felt on his first date with you and this was nothing like that. 

Perhaps he knew this wasn’t right. Deep down something was telling him he shouldn’t go ahead with this. His own mental health and his kids needed to be his priority, he needed to focus on bettering himself for the girls. 

But you’d made him realise just how lonely he was. And now he remembered what it was like to have someone he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone again. Even if it wasn’t you keeping him company. 

He pushed down his nerves and thoughts of you, it wasn’t conducive and therefore he didn’t need to be plagued by it. 

He finished getting ready, fighting his daily battle with his perpetually messy hair, before jumping in his car and heading out to meet Blair. 

***

The first stumbling block happened within a few minutes of sitting down in the restaurant when Blair asked him if he wanted to get a bottle of wine. 

He couldn’t very well admit to a woman whose husband was arrested for drunk driving that he was recovering from alcohol abuse. Instead he tried to talk his way out of it. 

“I’m driving so it’s probably best I don’t drink.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. 

“Ok, just a glass then?” She smiled at him and he melted a little, almost agreeing because a glass of wine really would help take the edge off. 

But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t. 

“You know, I’ve not been feeling a hundred percent today so I think I’m going to just stick to water. Please have whatever you want though.” He insisted, trying to deflect.

“Oh, we could have rescheduled.” She pulled a face. 

“It’s ok, I’m fine. I just don’t think alcohol would be a good idea.” That wasn’t a lie, alcohol would not be a good idea.

He felt like he dodged a bullet when she didn’t mention it any further. But the second stumbling block came after they had ordered their food.

“So I told you about my ex, you didn’t really tell me about yours.” She smiled sweetly, no idea the can of worms she was opening with that statement.

Spencer sipped his water, trying to pretend it was scotch but failed and was left disappointed.

“Uh, well, let’s see,” he took another sip. “We were married for thirteen years but for the last three of those, she was cheating on me.” He thought it best to just rip it off like a bandaid.

“Oh gosh,” Blair frowned around her wine glass. “That’s horrible.”

“I mean, it's nothing in comparison to what you’ve been through but yeah, it certainly wasn’t great.” 

“I figured something must have happened because you said the girls only see her every two weeks.”

“I tried to fight for full custody if I’m honest.” He shrugged with a sigh. “But she is still their mom.” 

“When did you split up, if you don’t mind me asking?” She swirled her wine around in her glass. 

“A little over a year ago. It’s been tough but my girls are resilient.” 

“And you?” Her eyes sparkled a little. 

Was he going to make the same mistake with you and lie about his feelings? He didn’t see the point if he was honest. He’d lied to you because he didn’t want to freak you out, to cause you to end things before they’d really begun. But if he scared off Blair he wasn’t sure it would be the end of the world. 

“Honestly, I’m still working through some stuff. It took me a long time to admit even to myself that I was hurt by what she did. I’m still processing my feelings, and if that’s not what you want to hear I’m sorry. But we were married for a long time and it is still kinda fresh.” He exhaled, took another sip of water.

“People think because they’re the ones who did the terrible thing that you should be glad to be rid of them.” She half-smiled. “As you’ve probably figured out, my ex was abusive and all my friends told me I should be happy to finally be out of that relationship. But they didn’t get it. No one does.

We had so many good times in the early years, he was so wonderful to me and I loved him so much. But then his job started getting on top of him and he started drinking and the alcohol made him angry. For the most part I was relieved that it was over but there’s still a part of me even now that misses him, misses…” she trailed off and swallowed but Spencer knew exactly what she wanted to say.

“You miss what you used to have.” He filled in the blanks. “I understand. Me and my ex had some really good times too and it’s hard to just forget all of that and hate her completely for what she did. She gave me Daisy and Lily and a part of me will always love her for that. People don’t understand though, not unless they’ve been there.” 

“Wow,” she smiled a little shakily. “It’s so nice to meet someone who gets it.” 

“It really is.” He agreed with his own smile. 

Spencer had in one capacity or another felt misunderstood his entire life. But the way Blair was looking at him made him feel seen for the first time. 

It allowed him to loosen up, to relax enough to enjoy his evening. He’d only ever wanted someone to understand and he felt like he finally found that in Blair. 

***

Luke Alvez leant against the kitchen counter, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. 

The sound of the two girls was more than enough, he didn’t need to witness what was going on as well. 

Penelope had been gone for twenty minutes to shower and in that time, all hell seemed to have broken loose. 

When she emerged from the bedroom, dressed in her brightly coloured pyjama bottoms and matching tank top, she froze in the doorway at the scene in front of her. 

Roxy was hiding away in the corner whilst Taco was being held rather precariously under Lily’s arm. She was spinning the poor dog around in circles, jumping up and down on Luke’s couch and scream-singing at the top of her lungs.

Daisy had her head in her phone, narrowly avoiding Lily jumping on her and Garcia could see the anger rising on the older girl's face. 

She looked over at Luke in the open plan kitchen and his closed eyes before storming towards him.

“I was gone for twenty minutes!” She slapped his bicep. “What did you do?”

“Me?” He opened his eyes and looked at his girlfriend. “I did nothing!” 

“Uncle Luke made hot cocoa!” Lily screeched. 

“Did he now?” Penelope frowned at him. “And how much sugar exactly did you put in it?” 

“Lots of sugar!” Lily squealed again. 

“I swear to god Lily if you hit me one more time!” Daisy spat her at her sister, looking up from her phone. 

“Daisy’s texting a boy!” Lily giggled.

Honestly, Taco had the patience of a saint because he didn’t seem at all disturbed by being bounced around the way he was. 

“I am not! Shut up!” Daisy growled. 

“Are too!” Lily replied, jumping off the couch and landing on the floor. “Daisy and Cameron sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” 

“Shut up you brat!” Daisy tossed her phone aside and got up, advancing on her sister. 

Luke suddenly jumped into action and crossed the room in barely three strides.

“Whoa!” He lightly placed his hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “Please don’t hurt your sister.” 

“She’s being a bitch!” Daisy huffed. 

“Hey now,” Penelope hurried over. “You do not use language like that.” 

“All my friends say it.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Daddy says it too!” Lily chimed in, thankfully putting Taco down and he scurried over to Roxy. “I heard him call mommy a bitch. What does it mean?” 

“It means-”

“Nothing.” Luke cut Daisy off. “It doesn’t mean anything. But we shouldn’t be saying it ok? It’s an adult word.” 

“Ok!” Lily shrugged, going back to jumping up and down. “I’m a rabbit!” 

“No you’re not you’re a bit-”

“Do not finish that sentence young lady.” Penelope snapped. She hated being strict but Luke was such a softy she often had to be the bad guy. “Girls enough of this. Daisy, you will not call your sister that word. In fact you will not call anyone that word. And Lily, if your sister is texting a boy leave her to it. She’s fourteen, she’s allowed to text a boy. I think. Does your dad know you’re texting a boy?” 

“Dads met him.” She shrugged, not exactly answering the question. “And he’s on a date with Blair, Cam’s mom right now.” 

“He’s…he’s…” she turned to Luke who was trying to shrink away. “You said he was out with JJ and Will?” 

“Uh…” Luke grabbed her hand and led her towards the kitchen. “He told me not to tell anyone.” 

“Even me?” She tried to keep her tone quiet. “How does Daisy know and I didn’t?” 

“She’s Reid’s kid, she’s as smart as a whip.” Luke whispered. 

“I thought he was…is he incapable of being single?” 

“I don’t know what’s going on with him to be honest. I’m kinda worried about him.” Luke admitted. 

“Me too.” Penelope pouted. 

“Give it back, you bitch!” Daisy yelled, garnering their attention.

“Daisy and Cameron sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N…OW!” Lily screamed.

Penelope and Luke ran back into the room to find Lily on the floor, violently sobbing and Daisy standing over her with a slightly smug look on her face.

“What did you do?” Garcia asked the older girl while Luke picked Lily up in his arms and cradled her. 

“She took my phone!” Daisy stamped her foot. 

“She pushed me!” Lily wailed. 

“It’s ok sweetheart, it’s ok. Let’s lie down.” Luke cooed as he carried her through to his guest room. 

“You do not push your sister, Daisy. You know that.” Penelope sighed. 

“She’s just such a bitch!” 

“For the love of all that is sparkly you have to stop saying that word.” Garcia groaned. “You get a time out, come on.” 

She took Daisy’s wrist in her hand and led her to Luke’s bedroom. She opened the door and motioned her inside.

“Phone,” she held out her hand. 

“No way.” Daisy scoffed. 

“Daisy Diana Reid, give me your phone right now before I call your father.” Penelope growled at the young girl. 

Daisy pulled a face, similar to her dad when he was upset. She let out a breath and placed the device in Penelope’s hand. 

“Thank you. Now go sit down and think about what you did.” Garcia closed the door on Daisy and padded back to the couch where she flopped down.

Luke emerged from the guest room a few minutes later alone and joined her. 

“I know we’ve only just started dating but can I say I don’t think I ever want kids.” He ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Right now I’m gonna have to agree with you.” Penelope nodded. 

Luke closed his eyes and took a moment to relish the quiet. But it was very short lived as soon there was a gagging sound coming from the corner of the room. 

Both of them looked over just in time to see Taco, the previous activities having caught up on him, vomit all over the carpet. 

“I’ll get the cleaning supplies.” Penelope sighed loudly, getting back to her feet. 

“I’ll call Reid.” 

***

“I had a really great time tonight.” Sam glanced at you with a smile as you walked side by side down the street towards your apartment. 

“I did too.” You nodded.

And it was true, you really did have a wonderful time with Sam. Conversation had flowed easily between the two of you, like it had back in college. 

So you didn’t have quite the same level of intellectual debate as you did with Spencer. At least Sam was your own age, even if that didn’t necessarily mean you had more in common. 

He walked you to your door like a gentleman and you turned to face him on the street. He was smiling down at you, eyes sparkling. 

“Would I completely blow my chances of a second date if I kissed you?” He asked somewhat shyly. 

“I’d say it would greatly increase your chances of a second date if you were to kiss me.” You smiled. 

“Oh thank god.” He chuckled, his nerves melting away. 

He stepped closer to you and cupped your face before drawing you in for a tender kiss. It was nice. But it was missing the kind of passion you had with Spencer. 

It wasn’t frantic and demanding like Spencer's kisses. It didn’t make your knees buckle or the air leave your lungs. 

It was nice. But it wasn’t the same. 

Sam pulled back and he was smiling brightly at you, you tried your best to return it. 

“I have waited so long to do that.” He laughed. 

“I hope it was worth the wait.” 

“Most definitely.” 

You looked over your shoulder at your building before looking back at him, knowing what you were about to say was an utterly stupid idea. But you said it nonetheless.

“My roommates are out. Do you wanna come inside?” 

It didn’t take someone with Spencer’s IQ to figure out what you meant and judging by the look on Sam’s face he knew exactly what you were getting at. 

“I would love that. But are you sure?” 

In response you simply took hold of his hand and led him up the stairs of your building. You were determined to get Spencer out of your head no matter the cost. 

***

After dinner, Spencer held the door of the restaurant open for Blair to exit first and she thanked him with a smile. 

They stepped out onto the street and she turned to him. 

“I never do this.” She laughed lightly. “I never go on dates.” 

“Yeah,” he rolled his lips between his teeth, remembering telling you the same. 

“Say, I don’t want to be too forward but I’ve been single a long time so I’m just going to go for it. I would really like to kiss you.” She blushed at her own words and Spencer thought it was incredibly endearing. 

“I would also very much like to kiss you.” He agreed, moving closer and cupping her face. 

He kissed her and she melted against him, gasping a little at the sensation in which Spencer took the initiative to guide his tongue into her mouth. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close while he deepened the kiss. And he tried not to think about you. 

By the time the kiss broke they were both panting slightly and she was smiling at him, eyes sparkling. 

“My kids are staying with their uncle tonight,” he blurted out. “So I have a free house. If it’s not too bold of me to say.” 

“It is kind of bold.” She laughed. “But I like it.” 

He smiled and kissed her again, hoping if he took her home he would banish all thoughts of you aside. But as he kissed her, his phone started to ring. 

He pulled back reluctantly and offered Blair an apologetic smile, pulling the device from his pocket and seeing Luke’s name on the screen. 

“Sorry I should get this, it could be about my girls.” 

“Of course, go ahead.” She nodded and Spencer took a few steps away before answering the phone. 

“Is everything ok?” He instantly went into panic mode. 

“Uh, not exactly.” Luke sighed. “Lily was hopped up on sugar and annoying Daisy. Daisy kept calling her a…b-i-t-c-h and then she pushed Lily and now Lily won’t stop crying. And your dog was sick everywhere.” 

Spencer exhaled sharply, closing his eyes as he let the information wash over him. 

“I’ll be right there.” He grumbled. 

“Sorry man. We tried.” 

“See you soon.” Spencer sighed again, hanging up the phone, moving back towards Blair. “I’m so sorry, my kids have gone rogue. Can we have a rain check?” 

“Sure and don’t worry about it. One’s hard enough as a single parent, I can’t imagine having two.” 

“It’s like having one, only ten times as hard.” He laughed dryly. “I’ll call you.”

He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and watched as she headed down the street to hail a cab. Soon he was turning in the opposite direction and speed walking towards his car. 

Was it too much to ask just to have one night to himself? He loved his girls, more than anything else in the world, but sometimes they made his life harder than he ever could have prepared for. 

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @ssa-uglywhore27 @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @foxy-eva @kbakery @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @angelicasworld

[oddclan-askblog]

Ocean Expedition

Raaf regarded his peer in horror,"You said we were only gonna fish a little."

"We are, we are,"Huemmo gave him a shy smile as he tossed a massive bait bag overboard,"uh we're gonna fish for wale anyway."

"The pack is moving in."Klem stood at the front of the boat, spear in tallon, eyeing a dark set of fins in the distance. They spliced through the churning water with alarming speed headed strait for the boat.

Raaf scrambled for the rope tethering them to certain death. He pulled to no avail, the bait bag was as heavy as he was. Raaf turned to the drone furious,"You told me you found a sardine shawl we could hunt! We're not prepared for large game, Vitur will be furious with me when we get back!"

Huemmo gently nudged him aside and shrugged,"Look it was only a little white lie to get your dad off my back." The drone handed Raaf a bronze trident and a brown robe,"Klem and I have done this a dozen times, it's fun you'll see."

Taking the spear in one talon and throwing the coarse fabric over himself with the other Raaf still felt cold. The cloak did little to take the edge off of the brisk morning air as the sun broke the horizon.

"Get ready." Klemok joined the two of them on the starboard side. He also had a trident though its blade was iron and its oak handle ornately decorated...with sark scales.

Raaf fussed arround with his feathers trying to take his mind off of Huemmo,"Why do drones have to be so frustrating?" He grumbled to himself.

"Being headstrong is good most of the time." Klemok chimed making his older brother jump,"Huem says determination is part of what makes him attractive, perdorming acts of strength show off his bravado and leadership potential...or something like that."

"Huh. Doesnt seem very attractive, Asi and Vitur are both determined but their not reckless about it." Raaf fiddled absentmindedly with his hoop earring,"Vitur is too cautious if anything and Asi doesnt do much besides cook I dont think."

"Ya but their old though, they couldnt wrestle a baby Elum if they wanted."

"Youd be surprised. How many sark have you killed? You both hunt big fish often?" Raaf tapped at the scale, its sharp edge bit into his finger and he yelped.

"Careful, they're sharp."

"No kidding," it was a mild scratch but annoying all the same.

"I've only nabbed the three I got these scales from." The younger mud puffed up with pride," The first one was hard but the other two were pretty easy. This'll be my first time taking on a wale, Huemmo thinks me ready for it." He shrugged.

"I hope you are cause I'm not." Raaf's feathers stood on end as he realized the wales were nearly on top of them. Huemo stepped on the spool of roap and locked both of his massive paws arround the bait line. A shadow slithered from the depths towards the boat. Pink stained fangs long as a mudokon forearm broke the surface entrapping the fishnet. Huemmo lurched forward catching himself against the rim of their boat as he strained to keep the line.

Klem struck first, aiming over the ravinouse fangs, Raaf thought he missed. Until the fish spat the meat out and lurched backwards in pain. It's giant bulbous eye struck through by the iron blade. He took aim to finish the thrashing beast off and released his spear.

Black and white blubber smacked the side of their boat as the wale shoved them away with its tail. Raaf and Klem fell backwards as they were sent spinning away from the pack. Several minutes passed before the vessel steadied out. Raaf pulled himself up into a sitting position and peered unsteadily over the rim. Two Kill'r Wale's were floating lifeless among the still waters, abandoned by their pack. His blade pierced the eye of a small pup, Raaf swore under his breath, it was too young to die. He felt numb as Klemek's cries shattered the stillness of the moment. The bait and line were long gone in the ruddy water. Huemmo nowhere to be found, they had lost their drone.

[darkeralmond]

In The Spotlight

TREVOR ZEGRAS X OC

October Series

synopsis: trevor meets hayden after the game and they hang out, the next day the band has to meet with aubrey to talk about a new album

warnings: language

word count: 2.8k

Fans poured out of the Honda Center arena happy with the 4 - 1 Ducks win. I stayed inside with Mal, Alex, and Wes as I anxiously awaited Trevor to come out and greet us. I would have some doubtful thoughts here and there such as, “What if he doesn’t show up?”

Mal rested her hand on my shoulder, “I’m sure he will.” She looked around, people still everywhere. “Just stay alert for people screaming ‘Oh my God! It’s Trevor Zegras’! That’s how we know he’s close by.”

I rolled my eyes as I tried my hardest to stop the smile that threatened to break through. It didn’t help that my cheeks now flushed with bright red heat against my already pale skin. “How will he even be able to find me through this crowd of people? There’s like at least tens of thousands of people here.”

Wes then looked behind me and smiled, “Like that.”

I turned around at the squeals that broke through the crowd. Before I could grasp what was happening, a sweaty casually dressed Trevor Zegras emerged through the valley of fans in awe around him. Some asked for pictures, some asked for autographs, and the others were too stunned by his presence to do anything.

My heart rate rapidly sped up as either a pit formed in my stomach or the butterflies had come back. His sky-blue eyes were fixated on me as a smile grew on his face. “Hayden Clarke,” he said, both enthusiasm and a New York accent slipping from his voice. “It’s so nice to see you again after all this time.”

A nervous smile made itself present on my face as he went in for the hug. Oh, okay! I thought as he wrapped his arms around me. As I embraced him, two things stood out to me. The first thing was our height distance. The last time I went to the doctor’s office in February, the nurse told me I stood at 5’4 and 3/4 — which is oddly specific. Since then I’ve assumed that I’ve grown to be about 5’5. Trevor stood at around 6’0, at least according to Google, and he looked it. Compared to me, at least.

I let go of the embrace and tucked some blonde strands of hair behind my ear. “It’s nice to see you again, Trevor,” I bashfully said. I struggled to maintain eye contact with him due to how sheepish he made me feel. “Have you met my band mates?” I asked him.

He shook his head and glanced over my shoulder before letting out a chuckle, “And I don’t think I will be.” My eyebrows furrowed as I turned around and found that the three of them had vanished. Those fuckers! I turned back to Trevor and forced a laugh, masking my aggravation with them. “Looks like I get to know you more now. Did you drive here?”

“Uh, Alex did actually. We all pretty much carpool together since we live together.” I shoved my hands in my hoodie pockets while looking up at him. His expression had soften compared to him earlier on the ice.

“Well, since your friends abandoned you… would you like me to give you a ride home?” My eyes grew as wide as they could. He’s already offering me a ride home? Is he trying to be prince charming?

My mom told me to never get into cars with men I’ve never met before. She didn’t want me to pop up missing, but I have Life 360 now, so what’s the worse that can happen? “Yes, please,” I answered.

Now we had to get through the mass of fans that crowded around us, shouting and taking pictures. I squeezed closer to him as I wrapped my arm around his, letting him lead us out to where ever he parked his car at. It had to be in some player reserved area, especially with the traffic coming out of the Honda Center.

Somehow, we lost the crowd of adoring fans which felt like a sigh of relief. “I haven’t seen a crowd like that since Miami!” I laughed as I glanced up at him. I still hadn’t let go of him, it felt comforting in a way. Maybe even a bit secure.

“It always feels like I’m in a pack of sardines when I’m near that exit,” he joked. “I should’ve told you to meet me by the locker room.”

I shrugged, “I don’t even know the lay out of the arena like that. Though it was one of the venues offered to us.”

Trevor dug in his sweatpants pocket and grabbed his keys from there. “Why didn’t you?” he asked as he unlocked the car.

My arm slowly let go of his as I made my way to the passenger seat of the car. “Because we were already performing at SDSU’s amphitheater. There was really no reason to go there and then drive an hour to Anaheim.”

Trevor chuckled as he answered, “Well, so I could see you guys perform obviously.”

“Should’ve just come to the SDSU one then,” I replied in a snarky tone.

His hand flew over his chest as his mouth popped open in a comedic way. I laughed looking at the obvious fake offense on his face. “You’re really mean you know that!” He then started the car up and began backing out of his parking spot. He placed his hand on the head of the passenger seat as he turned back to guide himself.

That was really attractive for no reason I could explain. He noticed before I was able to catch myself staring at him the entire time he did this with my jaw slacked. He smirked as he put the car into drive, facing forward again. “You also have a staring problem.”

“I thought you said I was talented,” I bit back. Bickering was the only way of flirting I could perfect.

“There’s a lot of things I’ve said about you,” he replied. “Mean, talented, surprisingly funny, and really pretty.”

That caught me off guard, I looked back at him with my eyes wide. “What?”

“I would dumb not to shoot my shot with you.” He glanced over at me, stopping at a stop light. He looked over at me, the red light being the only thing illuminating his face in the dark. “I tried to at your first gig, but you wouldn’t give up on caring that speaker back to the truck.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t have you do that. That’s how I met Aubrey and got us our record deal.” I glanced down at his phone which was plugged into the car and then back up at him. “I need your phone to put my address into, unless you already know where I live and avidly stalk me without my knowledge.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trevor said as he put in his passcode and gave the phone to me. The light flickered green and Trevor stepped on the gas pedal. “You might as well put your number in there as well.”

A smile cracked on my face as a giggle slipped out. He was such a smooth talker, it made me want to scream. I put the address into Waze, the directions immediately popping up on the car’s screen, then did as he told me to. I put my number into his phone before placing it in the cup holder.

“Is there anything you want me to get you to eat before I drop you off?” he asked, again glancing over at me with his bedroom eyes.

“Uh,” I hummed. “There’s an In-and-Out burger near my house. I only had popcorn at the game.”

“Thank God, Hay. I’m starving,” Trevor said as he turned in the direction the app told him to. I’m already Hay to him? That’s cute.

🎶

After I came home from hanging out with Trevor, I couldn’t sleep. Nothing happened like a kiss or anything, but the tension was unreal and that was only the first hang out. He wanted to meet again at Pearson Park on Sunday with Jamie and Mal. I agreed without any hesitation, especially since Mal would kill me if I ruined her opportunity to meet another Ducks player.

Now it was the afternoon and I sat on the couch, scrolling through Twitter. There were posts left and right about Trevor and I during and after the game. People were now speculating a possible relationship between us, which I now wouldn’t be opposed to.

One of the posts was from someone with a Trevor Zegras profile picture. They posted a picture they took of their TV screen showing my phone which said ‘Meet me after the game!’ and Trevor responding to it. The caption said:

THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE!!!’

When I went onto Instagram, an Anaheim Ducks fanpage posted the same thing except it was the highlight and with the announcers. One of the guys said, “And there’s Hayden Clarke, lead singer of Pink Slip, shooting her shot with Zegras right there.”

“Technically he shot his shot first when he did that interview with Gina,” the other one responded.

It was kind of funny to see how viral this has already gone, and we haven’t even done anything.

Wes came out of his room with his burrito blanket wrapped around him. He yawned loudly before announcing his presence, “Good morning.” He had bags under his eyes and his hair was an absolute mess. I beamed at him and nodded my head, “Good morning!”

“Uh oh,” Wes laughed. “What did you and Trevor get into?”

I rolled my eyes with red cheeks and got up from the couch. I watched as Wes grabbed a mug from the cabinet and placed it beneath the coffee machine. “Nothing! I promise!” I pulled myself onto the counter and swayed my feet. “We just got food last night and we talked. He’s really sweet.”

“Is he boyfriend material?” Wes asked as the machine dispensed coffee for him.

“Okay. One, don’t ever say ‘boyfriend material’ again. Two, yes he is!” I chirped. “He said I was pretty and he did that sexy thing that guys do when they back out of parking spots and —” I heard my phone begin to ring, cutting my off from my talk about Trevor. Disappointment swept across Wes’s features as he was intrigued to hear more about my night with Trevor. I checked who was calling and saw it was Aubrey. I picked up the phone and put it up to my ear. “Hey, Aubrey. What's up?” I answered.

“Hey, Hayden!” she responded, “Is there any time I can see you all later today at the studio?” Wes leaned against the island next to me as he listened in on Aubrey and I’s conversation. He took a long sip of his black coffee.

I put the phone on speaker before I replied, “Uh, yeah! Alex and Mal get back around 2.” Mal and Alex were early birds unlike Wes and I, so they had gotten up early to get brunch. “It’s only Wes and I right now.”

“Hi, Aubrey!” Wes said to her.

“Hi, Wes!” she replied, I could hear the smile on her face. She always had one. “I should be free around then. I’ll give you a call if anything changes,” Aubrey said.

With that, I said bye and hung up the phone. Wes pulled himself up on the counter and said, “I wonder if she’s gonna talk about Trevor.” He then gasped and playfully hit me, “What if she says you two should date for publicity?”

“Who said it would be for publicity?” I shrugged my shoulders while smiling.

“Don’t tell me you’re already falling for him,” he said with a chuckle.

I placed a finger over my lips and simply shushed him. I snagged the mug from his hands and took a swig. The bitter hot coffee made my nose crinkle as the boiling liquid ran down my throat. “This stuff is poison. I don’t know how you can drink plain black coffee.”

🎶

We entered Hillister at 2:03 PM and made our way to the control room where we found Aubrey glued to her phone like a screenager. She sat on the rolly chair while on her phone. She perked her head up like a dog when we entered the room. “Hey, guys! Sit down! I have stuff to talk about.” She gestured us to a couch that would she still believed would fit all of us — which it never did.

I crammed in between Mal and Wes. “Okay, we need to talk about new music.” She clasped her hands together and leaned toward us. “You guys haven’t released an album since last year, let alone a single. The fans are expecting stuff from you guys. Especially you, Hayden.”

“Me?” I asked.

“Yes!” Aubrey exclaimed. “There’s so much buzz about you and Trevor. It’s all I’ve seen on my feed. Which good job by the way, he’s a cutie.” Mal nudged me with her elbow and cooed as I rolled my eyes, though I struggled to hide my smile. “I’m gonna call up Kayla and see if I can get her down here sometime this week to discuss ideas,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

Kayla was older than all of us, but younger than Aubrey. I loved her songwriting abilities. Not only was she was good, but it gave us less work to do. That was sort of the problem though. The music didn’t feel authentic when performing. I just equivalated it to performing a cover of a song no one knows.

“Uh, Aubrey?” I spoke up and shifted in my spot again. She perked her head up and let out a hum. “Could we try something new…?”

“Oh, you want someone else?” Aubrey tilted her head to the side slightly, her phone lowering as she looked at me. “I can find someone with a new sound, it’ll probably just take about 2 weeks instead of this one.”

I shook my head. “No. I, uh,” I stuttered and looked over at Alex and Mal who were looking at me just as confused as Aubrey. “I was wondering kind of wondering if we could, maybe, start writing our own music.”

“Huh?!” Alex asked aloud, his eyebrows knitted together. I could hear the loud slap he had received on his arm from Mal due to his verbal shock.

If you would’ve suggested to me a year ago writing music for ourselves, I would’ve said no. I was, and still am, sort of embarrassed by the stuff I came up with growing up. I also wasn’t the type of person to suddenly change my mind especially on stuff this big, but something about writing our own music just made sense. It’s why I wanted to form a band in the first place. “Are you sure, Hayden?” she asked.

I looked over at the three of them before answering, “Yes. I just feel it would really challenge us as a band and make our music feel more personal. It’s a better way for us to connect with our fanbase.”

She placed her phone down on her lap and nodded her head, “Uh, yeah! If you guys think you can do it. I would love it, but let’s get into details,” Aubrey said as she adjusted her position in her own seat. “I want to be able to have everything recorded by the end of November, mid December at the latest. I want something to put out by Spring of next year.” She spun around and grabbed her keyboard from the empty chair next to her and wrote down the requirements. At least a 10 track album, something to do with love as it could really promote sales.

She also wanted us to go on tour again, but she said logistics of that would be determined around spring when the album is planned to drop. She wanted it to be bigger and better than the previous tour we had over the summer.

“Hayden,” Aubrey placed both her hands down on the clipboard and again stared right at me. “I believe you will be America’s next punk pop princess, this band will be remembered for decades to come.”

[bitletsanddrabbles]

WIP Why The Heck Not

So I got off the plane after an eight hour flight to discover there was a Thomas/Guy travel thing going on this month. Clearly I had to put my recent experience to work! Now that I've cleared the jet lag…and can mostly breathe again…and have all of my medical appointments out of the way…the month's almost over.

Typical.

But hey, I have the first couple of scenes done, and if I post the first one, I'll at least have started posting it before the deadline, right? Right. That's how these things work.

This, then, is the first scene of the most recent SURPRISE edition of the Poly!Thomas Modern AU. Chris and Richard will only be mentions in this one, I'm afraid, as they stayed in York.

For the record, first class seats are one of the few things my parents didn't splurge on for our trip.

We all know why it didn't happen.

We all agree that not tossing out an extra three grand was a sensible choice.

…we all kind of regret it anyway…

…)@#(*@))#$ economy….

-

“Well, hello there, Handsome. Is this seat taken?” Thomas started at the voice, half turning and nearly knocking his laptop off of his lap with his elbow. After he steadied the machine, he turned back to the man next to him, his face still a picture of shock. “Guy! What are you doing here? We can’t even check in for another four hours.” The actor gave him a bemused look, taking the seat next to him, apparently on the assumption that it was not, in fact, taken. Fortunately, it wasn’t. “This from the man who caught a six am flight from Edinburgh so he wouldn’t miss a five forty-five flight out of Heathrow?” Thomas scowled a little at that, shutting his laptop down and tucking it away. “You know how flights get delayed, and I certainly wasn’t taking the train! My luck there’d have been a bridge out or a flock of sheep asleep on the tracks or something. You were just coming from York.” “Trains from York can run into problems as easily as trains from Edinburgh,” Guy shrugged. “Besides, I thought if you were going to spend the entire day at the airport, you might like some company.” “Yes, well,” Thomas couldn’t help but grin at that. “I suppose you’ve got me there.” He leaned back in the less-than-comfortable chair he was occupying and asked, “How was the trip down, then?” “Not bad. The train was only five minutes late.” Ignoring the implied ‘I told you so’, Thomas snorted. “Typical.” “How was your flight?” Thomas thought about it a moment, then shrugged. “About the same. The person checking luggage said my cabin bag was an acceptable size, then the stewardess turned around and told me it was too big and I had to put it in the hold. The gate on the boarding pass was wrong, so I had to run down to a different one and get on a shuttle with a bunch of complaining Americans.” He shook his head at the memory. ‘Packed in like sardines’ they’d said. Yes, it was standing room only, but at least they weren’t all pressed up against each other! He’d dealt with worse. “The flight itself wasn’t that bad, I suppose. Fifteen minutes delayed and economy, but at least the people in front of me left their seats up.” “Thank goodness.” Guy had some horror stories about long economy flights behind people with reclined seats. He and Thomas had agreed that the one thing they were absolutely allowed to splurge on was first class seating. If all they could afford for a rental on the other end was a VW Beetle, so be it! Thomas would walk if it meant not flying economy long distance! “And then it took us forever to land and all of the Americans had to scramble for their connecting flight,” he left his own ‘I told you so’ unspoken, “and as I was coming this way I heard something about a canceled flight to…I think it was Inverness? Anyway, some of those poor sods were going to have to spend the night. But I made it up here without a problem and the woman over there,” he gestured vaguely, “told me where to go and when we could check in. And here we are.” “Here we are indeed,” Guy agreed. He checked his watch. “Well, since we have several hours to kill, what say we find a place to get food? I’ve only had a slice of toast to eat, and I’m guessing you didn’t exactly have a full Scottish breakfast before heading down?” “I had two pieces of complimentary shortbread,” Thomas informed him. It had, admittedly, been good shortbread, and the hotel staff had provided him with a decent cup of tea, but it was not his usual amount of breakfast. “I was just thinking it was about time to wander down to the M&S on the ground floor and grab something.” Despite having just sat down, it took no further prompting to get Guy back on his feet. “I’ll agree with that. And while we walk, you can tell me all about this birthday party Sybil begged you into going to. Did it go well?” Thomas laughed, nearly falling back into his chair. “Fifteen future aristocrats, none of them over the age of nine mind, running around a five star hotel? It was an unmitigated disaster.” Guy gave him a knowing look. “And from your grin, you loved every second of it.” “You know it.”

[wumblr]

The Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum holds thousands of “A-bomb Drawings by Survivors,” which describe the artists’ own experiences of the atomic bombing. These drawings and paintings, most of which were collected in 1974, 1975 and 2002, are records of the atomic bombing by Hiroshima citizens. They are precious testimonies that illustrate the devastation that nuclear weapons hold in store for human beings. We also have a series called “The Hiroshima We Miss,” a collection of paintings that depicts Hiroshima City and its citizens’ lifestyles before the atomic bombing.

1: "I saw a horrible scene on the edge of the road. Corpses were packed into a cistern like sardines. Another corpse lying on them was badly blistered. Around the cistern were several corpses of people who had gathered hoping to escape to the water. The corpses were red like boiled octopus and so badly burned their gender was unrecognizable."

2: "The young girl said, "Are you looking for someone?" That was how I knew she was alive. I saw that her wristwatch was biting into her skin and tried to loosen it, but when I touched the skin on her hand, it slipped off, so I could do nothing for her. At least I wanted to get her out of the sun, but there was no grass, no tree, nothing but broken bricks. She was immobile and helpless under the broiling sun."

3: "The drowned bodies were swollen like balloons, their gender undeterminable. They floated in the water completely naked, their skin dyed multiple colors. Prevented by the fallen Honkawa Bridge from drifting downstream, they piled up there. The Motoyasu River, however, had no structure to prevent the bodies from drifting toward Ujina."

Fallout: The Hiroshima Cover-up and the Reporter Who Revealed It to the World

Just days after the United States decimated Hiroshima and Nagasaki with nuclear bombs, the Japanese surrendered unconditionally. But even before the surrender, the US government and military had begun a secret propaganda and information suppression campaign to hide the devastating nature of these experimental weapons. The cover-up intensified as Occupation forces closed the atomic cities to Allied reporters, preventing leaks about the horrific long-term effects of radiation which would kill thousands during the months after the blast. For nearly a year the cover-up worked—until New Yorker journalist John Hersey got into Hiroshima and managed to report the truth to the world.

[adamgant]

Healthy Trader Joes Shopping List

Healthy Trader Joe’s Shopping List https://ift.tt/bnBCMaO Sharing some of my favorite healthy products from Trader Joe’s! Hi friends! How are ya? I hope you’re having an amazing day! I have some calls this morning, and then am getting a massage… can’t.wait. For today’s post, I wanted to share some of my favorite healthy finds from Trader Joe’s! During the time-that-shall-not-be-named, the Pilot did all of our grocery shopping because he was “out in the world” and the girls and I were at home. We also got a lot of grocery delivery from Whole Foods and Thrive Market. It kind of stuck around for years after that, until I realized that I actually love grocery shopping and had missed it. So now, we alternate, since we both like going to the store in person — you find so many more fun things that way! Trader Joe’s has some amazing things, and here are some of my favorite healthier finds. While I believe that ALL foods should fit into your lifestyle, this is a list of things that have less ingredients and offer more on the nutritional front (with a few of the soul-hugging must-haves in here, too). Here’s the list! Healthy Trader Joe’s Shopping List PRODUCE/COLD: – Organic fruit: we go for berries, bananas, grapes, apples, and anything seasonal and exciting, like cherries, melon, stone fruits, or rambutan – Organic veggies: sweet potatoes, zucchini, celery, carrots, bell peppers, squash – Edamame – Root vegetable hash – Cold-pressed green juice – Mirepoix (makes soups and casseroles SO easy) – Onions, garlic, and ginger – Medjool dates – Organic guacamole – Salsa! We love their pico and their Salsa Especial BEANS, SPICES, PANTRY STAPLES: – ALL organic beans: each week, I get white beans, kidney beans, black beans, and garbanzo beans – Organic chicken broth – Organic jasmine rice – Organic pasta from Italy – ALL the spices! We love their oregano, basil, thyme, rosemary, garlic powder, and Everything But the Bagel seasoning – Canned tuna, sardines, anchovies – Almond butter – Organic peanut butter – Organic raspberry or strawberry preserves – Chocolate chips – Maple syrup – Oatmeal – Canned tomatoes – Olives – Artichokes BARS + SNACKS: – Date and Chocolate bars – Trail mix – Chomps jerky – Organic dried fruit and fruit leather DAIRY + EGGS: – Kerrygold unsalted butter – Almond milk – Full fat organic Greek yogurt – Organic cheese sticks – Raw or aged cheeses; their parm is amazing – Organic pasture-raised eggs (I prefer the Vital Farms eggs from Whole Foods but these work in a pinch) FROZEN + SWEET TREATS: – Hold the cone! Vegan mini ice creams. These are SO good and the perfect size for a sweet bite – Gone Bananas or Gone Berry Crazy ; fruit simply covered in chocolate and frozen! – Organic frozen berries mix; perfect for smoothies – Cauliflower rice; love this for soups, smoothies, and scrambles – Almond flour chocolate chip cookies mix BREAD + TORTILLAS: – Corn tortillas – Sourdough bread for sandwiches – A sweet treat! They often have gluten-free dessert options with fairly simple ingredients MEAT: – We typically get all of our meat from Butcher Box and Whole Foods, but I do like Trader Joe’s organic chicken thighs and organic deli meat I think that’s it! I just wrote that list off the top of my head with things we always buy! Do you have any Trader Joe’s faves? Where do you get most of your groceries? Here’s a list of my Favorite Trader Joe’s products. Have a great day and I’ll see ya soon! xoxo Gina For more healthy meal ideas and recipes, download my free meal plan and recipe pack for busy friends! They’re all quick and healthy meals you can make in a snap. The post Healthy Trader Joe’s Shopping List appeared first on The Fitnessista. via The Fitnessista https://ift.tt/lSzK674 March 05, 2024 at 12:55PM

[sebastianjameswrites]

Nuri spiced sardines in olive oil

“Seriously, are you still watching that?!”, my partner, Haley, asks. “It's been 3 hours and you're still watching canned sardine reviews?!”

“Tin reviews”, I replied,

Pre-Covid, tinned sardines were definitely not an exciting lunch idea to me. In 2018, I thoroughly enjoyed plump, charcoal grilled sardines on the southern coast of Spain, but frankly, chomping down on a dozen shiny, little, cold, oily fish was never an appetising idea. We had plenty of fresh seafood growing up in New Zealand that, I guess tinned fish wasn't something we ate much of at all. We had tinned tuna, but that really is about it. I didn't have my first tuna melt until Haley made me one on one of our early dates. A simple combination which I was weary about at first, quickly became a staple. 

Nowadays, as I spend plenty of time online, and some time outside in the real world, it's becoming clearer that more people are grasping the great idea of cheap and easy omega-3 fatty acids -- sardines! There are “Tin of the month” clubs, YouTube channels, TikTok accounts and Discord groups which all revolve directly around the ever growing tinned fish cult (or is it a fad? , maybe a chat for another day). Today, sardines and other tins of preserved seafood are something I keep an eye out for in every little market I walk by. I went to a few Asian supermarkets last week and found plenty of options. Sometimes hidden gems, entire walls of tinned seafood ( 1kg tins of fried dace??, maybe next time, thanks )). 

After an unsuccessful hunt for this particular brand around my current home of Vancouver BC, I turned to Dan at Rainbow Tomato Garden. The largest selection of tinned seafood IN THE WORLD should have what I need. A few days of adding tins, removing tins, reading reviews and calculating funds, I eagerly placed an order for a box of mixed tins, including a little stack of NURI brand. This Portugal based company is known to produce excellent tinned sardines, and have a history of tinning a superior product. Their website quotes them to be “the only company that remains faithful to the traditional method throughout its production.” Since 1920 they have been pumping out tins using their homemade secret recipes. A short wait after shipping, a USPS box of goodness was on my doorstep.

After seeing so much talk and hype online about the Nuri Spiced Sardines in Olive Oil i decided to give one a rip for myself. 

The brand has simple and recognizable packaging, paper wrapper over a tin. Something about it being my first tin of Nuri made me want to keep the wrapper, such a simple but fond memory. Right at the crack of the tin, I knew these were going to be great. The “someone just opened a tin of dines” smell was there, but extremely subtle. It almost smelt like very light pickle brine. Definitely not an unpleasant smell, which sardines often get such a bad reputation for. Peeling back the lid revealed 3 chunky boys, shimmering in the olive oil. The fish were packed tightly enough to be touching, but were firm to the touch. Firm enough for me to easily grab the middle one out with chopsticks, with little damage. The skin on all the fish was already very damaged, with large parts missing. What little skin there was, was falling off the flesh once removed from the oil. Less or broken skin is not something I'm complaining about. Less skin means less scales! No one likes eating scales.

Half a fish for the first bite; these are damn delicious. A savoury, slightly salty taste and the firm bite to go with. A complete surprise to how subtle the flavour is. Really a delight and far less “fishy” than most people would expect. The cartilage in the spine had completely dissolved into the fish and had become soft, not bringing any noticeable crunch. The trio of sardines came packed with one slice of carrot, one slice of pickle, one little red chilli, part of a dried bay leaf and a clove. A classic combination to bring subtle heat and flavour to the oil and meat. You can see the workers at the Nuri factory hand packing the ingredients in this Youtube Video. Onto the operating table for the second oily boi; I removed the spine and ate that separately (my favourite part). Once the fish was on a plate I could really notice the colours in the meat, varying from white to a dark purple pink. The deeper the colour, the stronger the flavour. The oil kept a nice shine on everything and had a very light olive flavour. It had a light yellow colour that was still clear and glossy even after all this time marinating the fish. I personally love an olive oil tin over a soya oil tin. The carrot and pickle went down next, neither of which tasted like pickle or carrot. The flavour of both must get leached into the oil by the time it gets out to us consumers. The lucky last sardine went down on simple salted saltines with a bit more hot sauce. Adding the crackers to the table obviously makes for more texture, but it also creates more of a vessel for the extra hot sauce I was drizzling on top. I haven't been able to find a bottle of the famous Salsa Espinaler locally yet, which I have read is perfect on all fish, but I have a few more artisanal stores to check out before I resort to buying online. The heat was subtle, to put it subtly. One little chilli adds little to no mouth buzz sensation. The Nuri Extra spiced uses 3 chillies per tin, so I will have to test that tin to see if they have some real spice and mouth feel. 

Two saltines and three fish. Not a meal I used to go out of my way to have, but today was a healthy and highly enjoyable lunch. These sardines could easily be broken up and put on top of a salad, used as a “sardine melt” or lightly floured and then fried in their own oil. My next tin of Nuri spiced, i'm going to use this beer batter recipe: Beer Battered ‘Dines. 

When a store in my hometown starts to stock Nuri brand, I will be first in line ready to pick up a stack of tins. I would love to have the spiced sardines in olive oil as my “go to tin”, I mean, who wouldn't?  I recommend these to any non-sardine eater, someone who is looking to try their first tin, or to impress someone on a first date! The subtleness would be an ideal way to ease someone into the flavour rather than starting them off with Oskars Surstromming. Do yourself a favour, find a local supplier of Nuri, pick up a tin and give it a crack!

Tin Rating - 4/5

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Distressed V

*Author’s note: sorry it’s a bit late! It’s been a hectic day 😘

You tried to dress as slowly as possible while also secretly listening to Colson’s phone conversation. You could only pick up dribs and drabs but he sounded pissed.

Is that because of the person on the other end of the line or because we were interrupted? You couldn’t help but think to yourself.

Your mind began to wonder about what could’ve been. Would you have kissed? Would you have done more than that? Would it lead somewhere? Does he do this with every woman he meets?

You push that last thought away. It’s no secret that Colson has a reputation. How can you blame a guy who looks like? Sex gods don’t stay virgins for long, from what you’ve heard.

You find yourself in the same position you were in while you were in the bathroom. The only difference this time is that there is an actual reason for you to be nervous to face him. Your mind raced at all the possible things you could say to each other. Things you could say.

Hey, I’ve been in love with you since I was 16, want to run away together and make cute, blue eyed babies? Not exactly a turn on.

You take a deep breath and open the door only to run smack into Colson standing on the other side, his hand half raised to knock on your door. He places his large hands on your waist to steady you and the smell of his lingering cologne hits you like a truck.

“Woah, easy there honey,” he chuckles, flashing you the most stunning crooked smile. He drops his hands but he doesn’t step back like you’d expected. “I’m really sorry to do this but I have another show tonight and I have to… do a few things before it but I was wondering if you’d come to my show tonight? Your experience was sort of…interrupted last night.” Colson’s eyes darken and you feel his body heat rise by a few degrees.

“I would love to come to your show. Unfortunately there’s a little issue with me getting my hands on some tickets so close to the concert,” you tease.

“It’s ok, I know a guy,” he winks at you and you laugh. A genuine, carefree laugh.

After sorting out a few minor details about getting to the concert and what time to expect your ride, you stand at the front door of the building seeing Colson out.

“Ok, 8 o’clock, right here. I’ll send one of my best body guards to pick you up and he will not leave your side all evening, I promise,” Colson explains to you as you make your way outside.

“Wow, I’ve never had my own personal body guard. Will he have a code name for me?” You ask all excitedly.

“I hate to break it to you love but you’re not the president,” Colson laughs, booping your nose adorably.

“Wait, so you’re saying I’ll have someone following me ALL night and he’s not even going to call me by a cool nickname?”

“Well he’s not going to follow you all night,” Colson draws out the last word, almost seductively.

You’re way to awkward to initiate a hug or anything but luckily for you Colson is very comfortable with showing affection.

I wonder why? Your conscience bitterly remarks.

Before you can overthink anymore, Colson places a soft kiss against your cheek and grins at your shocked expression. He waves goodbye from the bottom of the stairs before climbing into his car. You walk all the way back upstairs to your apartment with the goofiest smile adorning your face.

You decide once you’re in your apartment to call Sarah as you notice several missed calls from her. You tell her exactly what happened.

“Oh my god, Y/N! I’m such a terrible friend. I should’ve been there with you,” Sarah exclaims in pure shock. “I have no idea how we got separated in the first place. I tried looking for you but we were all so packed together like sardines, I couldn’t make my way through the crowd. I can’t believe that was you that Machine Gun Kelly was yelling out to! You must’ve been terrified?”

You try your best to calm her down and reassure her but she’s still not convinced there’s nothing she couldn’t have done to prevent what had happened.

“So…what’s he like?” She whispers into the phone as if someone is listening to the conversation. You immediately know who she’s dying to talk about.

“He’s pretty incredible. There’s something about him that makes me feel so safe.”

“Be careful, ok? I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

You talk on the phone for another hour. The rest of the conversation is her asking about the incident and her apologising for getting separated and for her not calling to check-in on you. She just assumed you’d hooked up with someone and you’d call her in the morning.

Once you’re off the phone you check the time and realise there’s still another 6 hours before your driver/body guard picks you up. You potter around your apartment aimlessly. Half cleaning, half fidgeting. There’s a knock at the door and you check the time again. 4:30.

Maybe Colson’s back to finish what he half started this morning?

Your chest swells with hope but your tummy knots with nerves. You open the door slowly and your heart feels like it may burst out of your chest as you’re greeted by a sinister smile.

“Hey pretty lady, I think we got interrupted,” he breathes and pushes his way into your apartment.

You try to run but he grabs you by your hair and slams you to the ground. The last thing you see before you pass out is his muddy boots moving towards you, then everything goes black.

Part 6

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Seven

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: working a full time job + part time job tutoring english + applying for scholarships + still having free time left is a lot harder than i thought it would be. which is my way of saying this chapter should've been done a week ago lol.

i call this my goodbye chapter b/c goodbyes are made.

***

As Nesta brings the last of her things into the cabin, Azriel takes the last of his stuff out.

Standing beside Cassian, Nesta watches Azriel shut the trunk over the final box of his belongings. With all the extra stuff he stole from the cabin, it almost seemed like everything wouldn’t fit into his tiny car, but here he is. Ready to go.

He dusts off his leather jacket and approaches her and Cassian. “This is goodbye,” he says, coming to a stop before them.

Nesta once thought this would be the happiest day of her life, second to her wedding day. She should have predicted that her rightful joy would be extinguished by sentimentality.

Cassian claps Azriel on the shoulder, the two brothers having already said their goodbyes in private. Still, Nesta can see a little sorrow in Cassian’s eyes, as if he also got too used to having Az around all the time.

Azriel, the dick, reveals nothing through his eyes. Neither does Nesta.

The two of them look at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then he comes in to hug her. Nesta hugs him back, arms crossing around his broad back, but it has the same stiffness as two Barbie dolls being made to kiss each other.

When Azriel tries to pull away, Nesta clutches him to her with surprising strength. “I know about the picture,” she says lowly in his ear.

“Too late to take it back now.” She might feel him smile on top of her hair.

Nesta lets go of Azriel swiftly, having had enough physical contact with him to last a year. “Drive safe, so Elain can find you in one piece,” she orders.

Azriel grimaces at that, reminded of what waits for him in Velaris. Whatever Elain decides to give him, it’ll probably be deserved.

“I’ll get going then.” Az starts backing away, and Nesta hears Cassian sniffle. She looks toward her boyfriend in concern, but he circles his huge arms around her shoulders and pulls her back to his chest before she can catch him getting teary-eyed.

They watch Azriel get in his car and drive away. Nesta waves until the car disappears fully into the thickness of the surrounding trees, waves until her arms are too tired to keep going.

Once Az is gone, she turns in Cassian’s embrace and jumps up into his arms. Her legs hook around his hips and his hands fit themselves under her thighs. She smiles and tells him, “Let’s go home.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves sitting in the silence of the kitchen. It’s the quiet of a house adjusting to a missing person, and Azriel’s absence is tangible.

Cassian is the first to break the silence. “Do you think he’s past city limits by now?” he asks as he stirs his coffee.

“No.��� Nesta turns the page of her book, focused on reading. “Not if he stopped by Gwyn’s before leaving.”

She hears Cassian stop stirring. “What does that mean?” he says.

Nesta looks up at him and shrugs. “It means he probably wants to say goodbye to her.”

***

“One charge of assault, one for battery, and one huge lawsuit against my company,” Rhys reads aloud from the file in front of him.

Cassian waves a hand in dismissal. “Just make it go away like you always do.”

Rhysand’s near-violet eyes narrow with barely restrained rage. “Cassian. You shattered an employee’s hand.”

“Hey, O’Connell.” Cassian strolled up to him early last Monday morning. The underground parking lot was near empty at this hour, since most workers wouldn’t come in until nine. “How was the rest of your weekend?”

O’Connell looked up from getting his bag out of his car, clearly surprised to see Cassian willingly make small talk with him. “It was good,” he answered lightly. “You left Velaris early, though.”

“Yeah, about that.” Cassian came to a stop by O’Connell’s car and held out his hand, catching the car door before it could be shut. “I had to take my girlfriend home.”

O’Connell looked confused, but nodded along. “That’s nice. Can you—?” He gestured at the car door, indicating to Cassian to let go.

Cassian didn’t. “What hand did you use?”

“Excuse me?”

“When you touched her,” Cassian clarified. “What hand did you use when you touched her?”

O’Connell’s look of confusion morphed into one of contempt. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

“Nesta Archeron.” Cassian straightened up, hand tightening over the top of the car door. “Your old college friend.” Realization dawned across O’Connell’s face, but he still hadn’t answered Cassian’s question.

“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll have to take my pick.” Cassian clicked his tongue in disappointment. “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” He snatched up O’Connell’s left hand, and in a flash O’Connell was pressed up against the car, his hand pinned to the doorframe.

“Hey, wait, what are you—” O’Connell protested.

The sound of a car door slamming shut on a hand was louder than Cassian expected. It was the crunch of bones and muscle followed by immediate screaming.

“It could have been worse,” Cassian said flatly over O’Connell’s cries of pain. “It could have been your tongue, since you like talking shit so much.”

Cassian blinks out of the memory. “So what if I did?” he shrugs in response to Rhys.

“You are a member of my inner circle,” Rhysand fumes. “Keith O’Connell is a respected figure in our industry and a higher up from Vanserra and Co., and the head of our Milan outpost, but you saw fit to take out justice on him without asking me first.”

“You had nothing to do with it.”

“That is not up to you!” Rhysand jabs a finger at Cassian. “What will our shareholders think when they hear about this? What will the board members say?”

Cassian is starting to get irritated now. “They won’t find out, because you won’t tell them,” he says firmly. “We both know you’ve covered up worse things to fit your agenda, but it’s a problem if I don’t want a creepy bastard working under my jurisdiction?”

Having learned most of his business tricks from his father, Rhys is no perfectly clean CEO himself. He would’ve done far worse to O’Connell if it was Feyre in Nesta’s place, and he would have ended it all with a speech about how abusers and their sympathizers have no place at Night Court Inc.

The thought only inflames Cassian more; maybe he’s still riding off the anger of O’Connell making Nesta cry.

Tempering his feelings, he tells Rhys, “When you’re done shutting O’Connell up,” because Rhys would do it no matter how angry he pretended to be, “make sure Nesta never finds out about this.”

Rhys sits back in his chair, a bitter smirk pulling at his mouth. “Afraid she’ll be horrified of what a brute her sweet boyfriend is?”

Cassian nearly snorts at the image of Nesta recoiling at a broken hand. She’d probably call him weak for not shoving O’Connell into a ravine. “No,” he answers tiredly. “It’s not violence that offends her, but if she finds out it was in her name… I don’t want to put that on her shoulders.” Which is a shame, because in any other situation Nesta would love to hear about the unfortunate circumstances that led to O’Connell quitting his job.

Rhys lets loose a long sigh. “Damn, you both scare me.” After a few moments, he asks, “Now what are we going to do about Milan?”

***

Life after moving in with Cassian passes by quickly, and before Nesta knows it, she’s completed her second year of law school.

As for the boys who were some of her first friends and drinking companions, back when Nesta barely knew the definition of a friend—today they complete their final year of law school.

Nesta fans herself with the pamphlet she was handed at the beginning of the graduation ceremony, trying to stop the harsh morning sun from melting the makeup off her face. The audience is packed like sardines onto one huge field, and the announcer on stage hasn’t even reached the last names that start with D. Eris, Justinian, and Isaac are all near the bottom of the alphabet.

“Do we really need to be here today?” Nesta murmurs to Emerie, squirming in her metal foldout chair.

Sitting at her right, Emerie throws her a scolding look. “Don’t be like that. We’re never going to see these guys again.”

Nesta sincerely doubts that, considering how none of the guys are moving more than a few hours away. But her uterus is raising hell right now, even though her new meds have put a stop to her periods. Paired with the ache in her back from these terrible chairs, she’s about to call it quits and go straight home.

“Nesta!”

She whips her head to the left, finding Elain striding through the row of chairs to reach the empty seat beside her.

Like watching the Red Sea part, everyone in the row pulls their feet back and makes themselves as small as possible so Elain can have a clear walkway.

Nesta moves the purse she used to save Elain’s seat aside, and Elain drops her butt onto the little foldout chair like it’s a throne.

“A little warm for an outdoor ceremony, don’t you think?” Elain fans her face.

“You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know,” Nesta says.

“Eris made me. I haven’t talked to him since I broke up with his brother, but I think he wants to look like he has a lot of friends here.”

“Yeah, that checks out,” Emerie mutters from Nesta’s other side.

Elain seems to take notice of Emerie for the first time, and her Southern charm turns on like a switch. “Oh my, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Elain introduces herself and Emerie does the same, smiling and nodding politely, and Nesta can’t even decide if she likes this crossover because she’s too busy massaging her aching abdomen.

A string of “Excuse me, sorry!”s go up in the row they’re sitting in, and a moment later a familiar face plops down on the chair to Emerie’s right.

Gwyn leans over Emerie and holds a bottle of Advil out to Nesta. “This is all I could find in my car, babe.”

Nesta releases a sigh of relief and snatches the bottle. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

Elain’s gaze moves to the medicine, then to Gwyn. “You must be Gwyn.” She offers a smile. “I’m Nesta’s sister, Elain.”

Gwyn’s eyes widen imperceptibly, and Nesta realizes she should have warned Gwyn that Elain would be here.

Going off how Gwyn’s been acting the last few weeks, Nesta can only assume that she influenced Azriel’s final decision to move away, whether directly or indirectly. Nesta doesn’t even know much about what happened between the two of them during their weird sex deal, considering that she and Gwyn promised to never discuss such horrible things with each other.

All Nesta knows is that Azriel is Gwyn’s closest male friend, and close friends that have also slept together probably don’t want to bump into each other’s exes without warning.

“Are you here to see Eris graduate, too?” Elain asks.

Gwyn looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Who? Oh—no, I’m just here so we can drive to brunch together after.” Her voice gets quieter with each word, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nice to meet you,” she adds in a murmur, her face a furious shade of red. She quickly looks forward at the stage as if the graduation ceremony is the most fascinating thing ever.

Elain doesn’t note the odd behavior, instead refocusing on the Advil pills that Nesta pops into her mouth and swallows dry. “Are you still hurting?” Elain says, furrowing her thin brows. “I thought you got that problem fixed.”

Nesta tries not to snort as she accepts the bottle of water that Emerie wordlessly passes her. “You can’t ‘fix’ endometriosis, Elain. That’s not how it works.”

“Oh. Well how was I supposed to know that?”

Nesta slides unamused hooded eyes to her sister. Before she can retort anything, Emerie elbows her hard. “Look, it’s Isaac!”

She refocuses on the ceremony, cheering and clapping half-heartedly as Isaac takes the stage. It’s not that she doesn’t care about her study buddies; it’s just that she feels like shit right now.

Justinian follows suit a few minutes later, grinning and waving when he spies Emerie cheering for him. Gwyn is distracted on her phone through all of it.

The Advil has finally started to kick in when Nesta murmurs to Elain, “How is Azriel adjusting to being back in the city?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Elain answers innocently. “I haven’t seen much of him since he returned.”

“Just spill it,” Nesta says. “Azriel wouldn’t tell me anything, so I’m assuming he’s humiliated about it.”

Elain sighs, delicately pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “He came to me to talk. I heard him out, and then we went back to his apartment for coffee, and then I took my fabric scissors and cut out the crotch from all his pants.”

Nesta raises a brow. “All of them?”

“All of them.”

Nesta shrugs, turning back to face the stage. “It’s good enough. I could have done worse.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not me, isn’t it?” Elain snips.

Nesta won’t say it, but she supposes she is a little happy for Elain. In fact, she thinks this might be the first time Elain has stood up for herself instead of letting Nesta handle it.

After the ceremony is over, Emerie goes off to congratulate Isaac and Justinian. Gwyn follows so she can get away from Elain, and Nesta, being sweaty and overstimulated and more than ready to leave, settles for waving her arms and grinning at the boys from across the field.

She’s about to say goodbye to Elain and make a beeline for the parking lot when she spots a head of shining red hair approaching her. No—make that two heads.

Eris looked unbearably snooty as he received his degree, likely smug with the fact that he has a comfortable job at a family friend’s corporate law firm lined up for him after he passes the Bar. Nesta admits that she’s a little disappointed in him: after all his talk of working hard and being the smartest person in the room, he ended up riding his father’s coattails to a disgustingly high salary. But maybe that is hard work for him, considering that there was such a ruckus in the Vanserra family when he chose to go into law instead of business.

As for Lucien… Well, Nesta really has no idea what the kid does, but she knows he looks good, better than the last time she saw him. An early summer tan makes him glow in comparison to his brother, while lean forearms are revealed under the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt. He looks comfortable in a way he wasn’t at Thanksgiving all those months ago.

Even with his ex standing just a few feet away.

“Elain,” Lucien greets her with a foxlike smile.

Elain rolls her eyes in response and turns to Eris. “Congratulations on graduating, hun. Now that we’re even, kindly delete my number from your phone and never call me again.”

Even? Nesta raises a brow, wondering what that could possibly mean.

“I take it this is goodbye?” Eris tells her.

“I’m already leaving,” Elain says sweetly. She blows a kiss at Eris, then Nesta. “Feel better soon,” she chirps at her, before striding away in her pastel pink heels.

Very jealous of Elain getting to escape before she can, Nesta calls after her, “Hot date to catch?” She’s wearing the signature perfume she usually does when meeting with a man.

Elain tosses over her shoulder, “Something like that.” Her purse swings as she disappears around a corner to the parking lot.

Nesta watches her go with envy, and when she turns back she finds Eris already looking at her. Meanwhile, Lucien still has his eyes glued to the spot where Elain disappeared.

“You feel sick?” Eris asks her.

“No thank you, I have a boyfriend,” Nesta replies on instinct.

Eris scoffs once in indignation, then twice. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says with disbelief. “I can care about my friends, you know.”

“You want her,” Lucien mutters.

Nesta’s eyes snap to Lucien, who seems to be acknowledging her presence for the first time today. “And what do you want?” She tilts her head at him, intrigued at having a new playmate. He’s less predictable than Eris, at the very least.

Lucien looks at her and offers a sheepish smile. “Nothing you can give me.”

Eris rolls his eyes at the both of them, clearly regretting bringing his brother along with him. “I’m already bored of this conversation,” he laments. “I’m out; the D.A. is here and I want to say hi. Find me when you’re done, punk.” Eris bonks Lucien on the head with his rolled up diploma and starts walking away, only pausing to extend a mocking bow to Nesta. “We’re not over yet, Archeron,” he calls as he leaves.

Now it’s Nesta’s and Lucien’s turn to roll their eyes.

With only the two of them left, Nesta feels obliged to ask awkwardly, “So… how’ve you been?”

Lucien’s gaze slides to her. “I didn’t know you were Elain’s sister,” he says.

She huffs a laugh. “I didn’t know you were her ex at first, either. Does it matter?”

Lucien’s mouth turns down in thought, but he doesn’t answer her question. “I’m doing good,” he says in response to her former question instead. “I’ve been living the nomad life, traveling around with friends, roadtripping in a van.”

But would you come home for Elain? Nesta can’t help but wonder.

She didn’t know Lucien had dated Elain until after her first meeting with him, but even then it had been something of a throwaway detail. Elain dates lots of guys, and falls in love with even more of them. She seemed to barely remember Lucien’s name when Nesta first brought it up in front of her.

But for some inexplicable reason, Nesta genuinely likes Lucien. A part of her recognizes something similar in a part of him, and it makes her sad to imagine him being stuck on a girl who won’t think about him twice.

“Take my advice,” Nesta tells him bluntly, “and move on if you haven’t yet. Staring after Elain when she already broke up with you will get you nowhere.” Elain isn’t the type to ever look back, and she never falls for the same man twice.

Lucien just looks at Nesta with a blank face. “I broke up with her,” he says.

Nesta’s mouth falls open.

“And,” he adds, “I was staring at her ass.” He starts walking backwards to his brother, giving Nesta an innocent grin as he leaves. “It was nice meeting again. See you in another six months.”

Nesta is dumbfounded watching him go, not knowing what to do with this new knowledge. As far as she knows, no one has ever broken up with Elain except for Azriel—and that ended in Az losing all of his pants.

It only occurs to Nesta that she shouldn’t have let Lucien get away with that ass comment when Emerie and Gwyn suddenly appear at her side, each of them interlocking an arm with hers. “You feeling better?” Emerie inquires cheerfully. “Ready to go?”

Nesta nods slowly, forcefully putting Lucien Vanserra and his too-sly demeanor out of her mind. He isn’t her problem right now. Summer is already here with a vengeance, and she’ll only have so much free time with the people she loves most. So she chooses to focus only on them.

Tugging her friends closer and squeezing their arms, Nesta asks, “Where are we eating?”

***

a/n: this needs sooo much more editing lol i could have done a lot more with this chapter if i wasn’t constantly tired and pressed for free time. sorry y’all :/

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes@readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99 @mystic-bibliophile

[floralfloyd]

Sentimental Journey

This is a little something I wrote for @mercurygray 's Blind Dates Event. It really gave me the chance to play around with an idea for an OC I've had in my head for a while now. I hope you all like it and I hope to write more for and about Ellis in the future! Enjoy!

The atmosphere was set with smoke as a big brass band played everything from Glenn Miller to Vera Lynn. It was a wonder on just how much cigarettes it took to create the screen that cloaked the dance hall, some wisps curling as they left the lips of its creator's others swirled before creating one big blanket in the air.

Forest Green shoes tapped along with the beat, she had always loved ‘Tampico’, its upbeat tempo and fun lyrics were always something to make people smile, especially in the desperate times of war. As a dainty hand grasped the glass of sherry that lay almost forgotten in front of her, Ellis couldn't help but imagine June Christy singing along.

Every Friday night, Ellis White caught the 18:30 bus from Aldbourne to nearby Swindon. She loved the dance hall, it was frequent for the brunette before war broke out to go dancing with her lover but after he had been shipped out to fight in Dunkirk, Ellis sent him a dear John letter. The young Land Girl's heart had been broken the moment she had found out he had been seeing others behind her back.

Tonight was busier than usual, the hall tightly packed like a tin of Sardines. The American's had arrived in all their triumph, fighting fit and ready to join the war. Her tiny village became overrun as men were billeted with locals, including her own though, she couldn't deny it was nice to have some company each evening at dinner.

Local girls had clung themselves to the arms of any GI that so much as asked them to dance, local boys since long forgotten.

The frosted glass raised to her Ruby red lips gave all but a sip of the liquid before she had realized it was empty. Standing, she pushed her way through the crowd toward the bar at the back. Her small stature made it harder for her to be seen but only made the girl more determined to get past.

Hiking herself onto the barstool, Ellis swung her legs around so she could face the bar. The skirt of her apple green dress swished as she did so. It was a contrast to her dirt-covered overalls and Wellington boots she wore day in, day out when working in the fields.

"A half measure of sherry, please Michael" she spoke to the barman as he stood before her. Ellis had been so many times that she knew the staff all by first names.

Her attention turned to the band as they started playing Doris Day's 'Sentimental Journey', a slower song than the one they played before. Ellis had always loved the song, it was sweet but whenever it came on, she was forever left to listen not dance.

A tap on her shoulder brought her from her thoughts. Stood before her was the most breath-taking man she had ever seen, brown eyes that held both an intriguing glint and cheeky mirth, framed by floppy brown hair that was just dying for hands to be run through.

No. Stop it, Ellis. She thought as she shook herself from her thoughts before she raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow at the soldier before her, urging him to speak.

"What's a pretty bird like you doing all alone in a joint like this?" The man before her asked as he spoke a little louder so he could be heard over the music.

Bird? Last she checked she didn't have wings. These Yanks certainly had a way with words.

"You sure do know how to charm a girl, soldier. I just happen to be without a dance partner, so I thought I'd enjoy some quality alcohol and the music that comes with" Her voice was soft, like cotton candy but with an added rasp from the years of smoking cigarettes.

It seemed her words had definitely been what the doe-eyed GI was wanting to hear as he offered Ellis his khaki-clad arm and sweet smile.

"Well, we wouldn't want such a pretty gal to miss out on one of the best dances of the night. Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor?"

She couldn't deny, he was smooth, very smooth, not just with his words but with the way he would flirt. Her cheeks were sure to be the same color as her lips and with a nod, she was being pulled towards the wooden dance floor.

"May I get the name of the Fred Astaire who has just swept me off my feet?" Ellis asked as swayed gently to the song, letting herself be lead to the beat, her crystal eyes never leaving the deep brown eyes of her suitor.

She was suddenly dipped towards the floor, her grasp tightly on the jacket of the smirking man above her.

"George, George Luz" his voice matched her previous softness before he placed a soft kiss upon her rosy lips.

Pairing: George Luz x Ellis White (OFC)

Word Count: 833 Words

Notes: A little drabble introducing Ellis to the world. If anyone would like to be added to my Band of Brothers writing taglist, let me know. Also, my requests are open for business.