#but i guess they just waste their time a lot and i realized studying effective is so important

[adore-gregor]

study smart not hard (altough both is best actually) this saying is so true

[weebsinstash]

sorry if weird question but as a lil innocent bby I never smoked weed or did any drugs and I was wondering how did you start? where did you even source it in the first place, did you just happen to know a guy who had it or is there a secret store? spill the tea for us innocent bbys pls 🙏

Not a weird question, i can understand being curious and I do mention weed in my prompts every so often

Well first and foremost I wanna be a responsible 26 yo adult and say that, really, anything can be addictive. A lot of people don't realize addiction issues can even be genetically inherited, like it isnt JUST a battle of willpower, you can be biologically wired to get addicted to stuff easier, so weed definitely isn't as harmless as some people make it out to be if you already have a predisposition for bad impulse control. There have been studies, some pretty damning, suggesting smoking raises your risk of dementia, and of course there is COPD and weed can also negatively effect your stomach, as well as making you agitated. Different strains and THC/CBD percentages in weed can really change your high, too. There has been bud that gets me really giggly and happy and other kinds that made me HELLA paranoid and kind of strung out, so, it's not always a pleasant experience. It can also totally be your biology too, I knew a guy once who couldn't smoke at all because it would make him borderline hallucinate and it was extremely stressful for him

Like really to be blatantly honest with you, I'm a daily user to the point where I can have significant amounts and won't feel as "psychedelic" as I used to. Like you definitely build a tolerance after a while, but you can take a break for a while and it'll come back. But you can definitely fall into a trap where you smoke too much "trying to feel as high as you used to", chasing the memory of the fun feeling, and it just makes you tired and then you sleep and it's wasted, whereas for example when I went to watch Spiderverse in theaters, I stayed clean for a few days, just like 4 or 5, and when I smoked again it felt aweeeesome 😩❤️ like definitely, personal restraint can mean EVERYTHING with weed, for your tolerance, for your munchies, for how much you spend, you gotta find your limits and stick with em I guess

It's definitely sort of a time and place thing. I started smoking on my 17th birthday when my sister got me into it, and she was introduced to it by a boyfriend. It really does feel like it can be a matter of where you live or knowing the right person. For example one time after my mom and I had moved, we didn't have a hookup and we smelled weed on one of the mover's jackets and asked him in a really chill way if he knew where to get a hookup (it was him lmao, he was a dealer)

But anyways, it really depends on your state or country, but even if selling outright bud and flower isn't legal, sometimes selling THC products is. Like for example I'm in Minnesota and we have it medically legal (we're actually in the middle of implementing it being legalized recreationally) and I couldn't go to a smoke shop and buy bud yet, but I CAN buy synthetic weed and thc gummies. Also really cannot stress enough that you should really never touch synthetic drugs for anything; fake weed/spice has been proven to be especially bad, like, do not cheap out thinking you'll be safer with synthetic, it is arguably significantly more dangerous than the normal stuff.

Really cannot stress enough that this is a "check your local legislature before doing this" thing, but for example these are a brand of THC gummies that I bought in a smoke shop and can personally vouch for being able to get you high (thc is the high ingredient, CBD is the medical pain relieving ingredient) and they say you can purchase them online. I really am not sure where the law stands sometimes because it's like "oh we won't let you buy weed but we'll let you buy this processed product that contains the literal ingredient in weed that gets you high". Like for example that brand is Torch and when you go to their website they're also selling THC cartridges but they're also based in California so, do they only ship in California, is it safe country wide, you really have to do your own research for where you personally are

I would say maybe avoid ordering online because I just personally think that's a big risk unless you have confirmation it's ok where you're at. If you wanted me to give you my advice, I think a "surefire" way to find a hookup is to just go to a smokeshop and start up a conversation with someone. It can literally go "oh hey what do you buy that for?" "Oh I use it for pain, I don't like smoking weed and these gummies work good" "you know, if you think bud is too harsh on your throat, I got an edible guy--" like not even joking me and my mom went to buy screens the other week and we talked to this really nice girl for like over an hour and got her number cause she had all kinds of hookups and shes the one who recommended those gummies. A lot of dealers are selling weed as a side hustle and every customer they can get is good. It's good to have a plug you're loyal with but having options can be good in case anyone becomes unreliable or falls through or you find someone who sells for cheaper.

There are also multiple ways to, you know, do the deed. There's regular bud, which typically has to be ground up or cut up, and you can roll that into a blunt or use glass, which is my personal preference, I own some glass pipes and a bong, and I should mention I use smoking screens to avoid getting ash in my mouth but deadass, the vapors coming off of lighting that metal are probably Mucho No Bueno for my lungs so I've just been rawdoggin it, and there are also pens, like thc and cbd oil, and my recent method of preference is using an edabber pen and doing wax, which is a concentrate, although you can also do dabs with a glass rig and a butane torch but I got a thing against open flame haha

I think smoking weed is probably definitely less harmful than alcohol but it's probably a case by case thing as well as purely perspective. It can be fun as hell but you definitely have to watch yourself, and also, like, munchies can be fun, but it shouldn't be undersold how powerful munchies can be. I've literally eaten myself sick before. Eating becomes an activity in of itself and you'll have a full stomach and go "well I just ate something salty, now I want a sweet"

Anyways long answer is long but, yeah, my biggest piece of advice is, look at yourself as a person and try and figure out if it's even safe for you to try it, because if you have impulse control issues, someday down the like you may end up like me where you basically want to smoke before every activity to try and make that activity more fun and you wind up smoking so much you just need a nap, and when you wake up you're smoking again 😅 moderation is key!

[americangodstalk]

So for those of you who might be wondering about me and why I have been inactive, it is simple and short.

I had a breakdown when it came to American Gods and I decided to stop doing anything AG-related whatsoever. 

It was just a mix of everything. The show going to crap, the impossible task of managing an entire Wiki when you are one person - on top of that a student, not even a man with a stable job and life. Everybody promising to help but then nobody showing up except Christian fanatics. 

And there was a whole other set of realization. I realized I lacked too much knowledge to fully explain American Gods through articles on a website - I just got in this mess to point out fun little trivia and collect concept art and interviews, not to write analysis about each character, location and plot point. 

I realized frustratingly writing fanfics was just a bad way for me to approach the work. That instead of trying to pour my ideas into a work by someone else I should just let what this works inspire me blossom into its own, unique piece that is all mine.

I of course realized that if I kept working on the Wiki I would waste too much of my energy and lifetime when I had studies to go to, a family to take care of, a life to build (I am properly younger than you think).

But more importantly, I realized that working on the Wiki literaly broke my love and passion for American Gods, and it is something I did not want to happen so I stopped altogether. A Wiki is a place to dissect, analyze, classify everything. And this not only works against the novel itself, but against my own mindset. Trying to explain in an article the magic of AG literaly killed said magic. Especially when you are all alone, forced to protect and defend a Wiki you never asked to inherit, but feeling forced to do it because no one else steps in and no one else seems to care and everybody just jumps the ship.

Mind you I still guard it. Like some sort of vulture I circle around a Wiki whose heart has stopped beating - because like the librarian of some buried and forgotten archive, someone must preserve all the knowledge, all the pictures, all the work that has been built throughout decades. No matter how lacking, incomplete or wrong it is, someone must prevent it from all disappearing.

But I will not work on the Wiki anymore. I won’t write anymore article I won’t add any more picture. I can’t. Other people are still invited to, and free to, but it is not my job. I’ll just oversee, and then wait until someone worthy takes my place I guess? 

I need to reconnect with American Gods. With the book, with... with everything. I need to clean myself up of all the drama and all the adaptations and all the thing that were sent to me from outside, and just return to the time I was a kid reading the book in an unmoving car on the parking of some gigantic Ikea-like store in the middle of some sort of desert stuck between two urban zones. When all the “AG” fandom was just me, my book, a Wikipedia article and some fan art on DeviantArt. 

And then maybe I’ll return. I’ll return but only to do what I wanted to do originally, and only to do what pleases me. Share pictures of costumes, of concept art, of special effects. Ask questions about details. Make research. Look at earlier drafts, compare versions. And be inspired. 

It is a very warped phenomenon that I think a lot of people fall into: when you are inspired by a work, but given this work is so unique and so iconic you feel obliged to only express your work as some sort of fan-made content. When want to do something similar you don’t do it because you fear it will just be a lame copy or a rip-off, and so you just settle for some easy-made fanfics that ultimately leave you unsatisfied because it isn’t your characters or world. I rediscovered that I needed to just let myself be allowed to be inspired by a work, and to express the ideas I got through different, unique ways instead of just staying in a safe shadow. 

This post probably doesn’t make much sense, I am tired, I am worn-out, I am exhausted and my life is going to crap for a time - but I just wanted to inform you about the whole situation, keep you update, and just express some of those feelings I never talked about. 

Good night to you all. Or day, wherever you are.

[headaching]

because they're always sad, i give you domestic witty banter zukka fighting about the dishes after their first* kiss

Suddenly, Zuko pulls away from the kiss and whispers, “Wait.”

Fear courses Sokka’s veins as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Zuko glances at the sink in concern. He murmurs, “Are you really not gonna wash the cup?” Sokka rolls his eyes and tilts Zuko’s head to one side, pointing his worried stare toward the dining room.

Between sporadic kisses along Zuko’s jaw, Sokka observes, “You’re insane.”

When Zuko peels away and proclaims, “I’ll do it,” Sokka grabs his hand, effectively halting him.

“Hold on,” Sokka says, pulling Zuko toward him. Zuko sighs and plays with the collar of Sokka’s shirt. “If I wash the mug right now, will you go with me to the top secret surprise location?”

Zuko says, “You won’t give me any hints?” and pouts his lower lip. Sokka doesn’t hesitate to kiss it and shake his head solemnly. Zuko rolls his eyes, but concedes, “Fine.”

Victoriously, Sokka grins and lifts Zuko without warning. Zuko gasps and hisses, “Sokka!” but his legs hook around Sokka’s waist all the same. Sokka ignores him and walks Zuko farther into the kitchen. He sets him down on the countertop beside the sink and accepts the unamused glare waiting for him.

“What?” Sokka asks. “You never heard of sweeping someone off their feet?” He nudges Zuko’s cheek with his knuckle and Zuko swats at him.

“You’re not funny,” Zuko dismisses, but when Sokka leans in and places his hands on either side of the counter by Zuko’s hips, his legs easily accept Sokka’s torso.

“Good thing you’re not paying me to be funny,” Sokka says, and Zuko gives him a funny look.

“I’m not paying you at all.”

“You’re not?” Sokka asks, then kisses Zuko demonstratively, slow and delicate. By the time they pull away, his fingers have gravitated to Zuko’s hips, and Zuko’s to Sokka’s neck.

Zuko’s smile says, You’re stupid, one Sokka’s quite familiar with. “Smooth,” Zuko breathes and Sokka shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Go on,” Zuko says, pointing at the sink. “I’m not paying you to stand around.”

Sokka shakes his head, but he walked right into that one. “You’re the boss,” he replies, pulling his hands away from Zuko in defeat. Sokka separates himself from Zuko entirely to stand in front of the sink.

As Sokka wets the sponge and lathers it with dish soap, he notices Zuko’s fingers drumming steadily against the counter. “So…” he says, and Sokka waits for him to continue, but the only sound in the room is running water.

“So?” Sokka repeats and nudges Zuko’s leg with his hip.

After a shallow breath, Zuko asks, “What does this mean? For us?” Sokka can hear the apprehension in his voice, hesitant and quiet.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Zuko’s eyes fall to the ground and he repeats, “What do you want it to mean?”

Sokka sets the cup in the sink to point a soapy finger at Zuko, “I could do this all day, handsome.” Though Zuko’s scowling, Sokka celebrates the blush in his neck. Sokka inches his finger toward Zuko’s face, prompting him to push his arm away.

“Don’t,” Zuko whines and wipes his cheek, even though Sokka didn’t touch him. “I don’t want soap on my face,” he grumbles, and Sokka scoffs.

As he goes back to the task at hand, Sokka replies, “I thought you’d be into that since you have a hard on for bleach or whatever.” Zuko’s leg swings forward and jabs Sokka’s arm, only momentarily throwing him off balance. Sokka grins if only to himself as he rinses the dish for a final time. “Hand me a towel?” he asks when the water’s turned off.

Zuko doesn’t move, his indignant expression still fresh from the bleach comment. Sokka sighs and sets the cup on the counter, then occupies the space between Zuko’s legs once again. With a smirk, Sokka reaches into the drawer between Zuko’s knees and procures the towel himself. “I forgot,” Sokka murmurs, his voice low, “I’m on the job.”

Finally, Zuko’s stubbornness subsides as his fingers caress Sokka’s shoulders. “You didn’t answer my question,” Zuko points out, and Sokka sets the towel on the counter next to him to rest his palms on Zuko’s thighs.

“You didn’t, either,” Sokka counters.

Zuko huffs, “Sokka,” and throws him a serious look.

Sokka smiles just a little and presses into Zuko’s legs. “Zuko,” he says slowly, reveling in the quieting effect it seems to have on him. Sokka’s smile drifts away as a memory sparks his mind. “Do you remember what you said that night?” Sokka asks.

Zuko’s eyebrows furrow. “That night?”

“The night,” Sokka reiterates with a pointed look. “You know.” Zuko waves a hand in the air, indicating he remembers. He nods slowly.

“Yeah. I said a lot of things that night.” Zuko’s eyes fall past Sokka’s shoulder sheepishly. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“You said you weren’t ready,” Sokka explains, and his throat begins to close at the memory. “When you talked about dating someone, you said you weren’t ready.”

Zuko makes a funny noise resembling a laugh. He tugs Sokka closer, their lips a moment apart. “I was always ready for you,” he replies like it’s obvious, and to him it is, Sokka realizes. Tears sting his eyes as they did that night, but for completely different reasons.

“What do you mean?” Sokka hears himself ask, but mentally, he’s far away. I was always ready for you.

“Come on,” Zuko scoffs, accented by an eye roll. “Isn’t it obvious? Hasn’t it always been obvious?”

Oh. Everything stops. Then, it all falls into alignment, a straight line in Sokka’s brain.

Wildly, Sokka begins laughing, to Zuko’s confusion. “Yes,” he manages eventually, “it has always been obvious, hasn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Zuko, it’s been you since the day I met you.”

Across Zuko’s face, Sokka studies the array of emotions starting with joy and ending with shock. “What?” It sounds numb, unsure.

Sokka has to remind himself it’s okay to be honest now. “I thought you wouldn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to risk what we have, or make things difficult if—”

“But that’s what I thought,” Zuko interjects, and Sokka wishes he could know what he’s thinking. Sokka thinks he might be having an oh moment of his own. “Shit,” he whispers, and Sokka can’t help but smile.

“Yeah. Shit,” he repeats. Zuko’s hands leave Sokka’s back to hide his face in his arms as he groans, embarrassed.

“It’s been, like, two years,” Zuko says to the floor. Sokka’s hands are still on Zuko’s thighs, so when he turns his palms upward, he’s cradling Zuko’s hands. When Sokka’s thumbs caress Zuko’s skin, Zuko looks up from his hideaway with soft, affectionate eyes. “That’s so much wasted time,” he adds, his tone regretful.

Sokka’s fingers leave their resting glace to glide over Zuko’s shoulders and press into the muscles gently. “We have now,” Sokka replies hopefully, and tilts Zuko’s chin down with one hand. “Let’s not waste any more time,” he whispers, and Zuko’s lips are against his.

The kiss is delicate and encapsulates Sokka in safety, along with Zuko’s hands cupping his face. Zuko kisses him in quick succession a few times, then pulls away to touch their foreheads together. His eyes remain closed as he asks, “Is this really happening?”

Sokka exhales a fond breath and replies, “I hope so.”

Zuko’s eyes open and Sokka pulls away enough to look into them. He finds happiness, and maybe a little uncertainty, but he’s not worried. Sokka is confident he can fix that. Suddenly, Zuko takes a sharp breath and rolls his eyes. “So, that surprise location…” Sokka knows the suspense is killing him, but that’s part of the fun.

“Right. Ready to go?”

“I guess,” Zuko huffs, and uses Sokka’s shoulders to jump from the counter onto the floor.

When Zuko turns for the doorway, Sokka stops him with, “Wait.” When Zuko turns around, Sokka makes a show of picking up the cup and drying it with the towel. “My work here isn’t done.”

“Oh, right,” Zuko says, throwing his hands up. With the wrung out sponge, Sokka wipes the counter where Zuko was sitting.

“Gotta clean this since someone had his ass all over it,” Sokka says provokingly, then shakes his head in faux dismay.

“Shut up,” Zuko mumbles. Sokka puts the sponge, towel, and mug in their proper spots, then reports back to Zuko with his hands behind his back. Zuko claps sarcastically, if a clap can be sarcastic, and says, “Good job. That only took about—” He checks a pretend watch, “five times longer than it would’ve taken anyone else.”

Sokka’s pout is immediate. “Does that mean I don’t get a tip?” Zuko’s lips shrug to one side in consideration.

“I guess I’ll give you one,” he decides, then pecks Sokka on the lips. It’s far too fast for a tip in Sokka’s opinion, but before he can voice it, Zuko’s already running for the door.

His laugh is giddy and taunting, but Sokka isn’t far behind him. “Get back here!” he yells.

“Come get me!” is Zuko’s reply, and it’s on.

The sounds of thudding feet and unabashed laughter ring through their apartment like a song.

[esbozosmarie]

05.11.2021

I swear I thought it was Thursday, but not Friday at any point. Maybe it's because I am still working and have at least two hours more to go? Probably.

I had a surprising early morning tho it was not as productive as expected for the number of hours I was awake, but that makes you realize that is not the number of hours but of effectiveness. Always be aware of that!

This afternoon I had such a surprising, interesting exploratory interview. You know, when you start to do research on a topic and you don't find a lot of scientific literature about it, probably cause it has been slightly studied or isn't considered as relevant anymore?

I decided to email the author that most frequently appear in those papers and guess what? It came out it was a super useful interview and a very nice comfy conversation that I wasn't expecting at all. So I encourage anyone out there who is in the same position to try, cause sometimes you find kind people that are willing to help. Just, be extra kind and don't make people waste their time, that would be terrible.

MC

[asociallyawkwardteen]

FACE - Woosung/Sammy Kim - Drabble

Kim Woosung/Sammy Kim x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Word count: 2,5k

Summary: After a long semester of uni finally comes to an end, y/n and her friends are able to go out again and have fun. A fun night out turns into something very beautiful.

(Also I would like to apologize for any errors, english is not my first langugae so please have mercy on me ^^’)

~Hope you like it!

„Finally!!! We are done with all those stupid exams!!!” your friend Coco shouted once you got back to your apartment from Uni after having your last exam for this semester today.

“Hey, you do know that we have neighbors, right?” you giggled, hitting her in a playful way.

“Yeah, yeah, but aren’t you glad that we finally can relax?? We should celebrate it!”

“Of course I am glad, silly. So how do you want to celebrate surviving another semester?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet but I want to do it tonight! Otherwise it’s not as much of an celebration.”

“Sounds a lot like you want to go drinking, huh?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, “Maybe…”

“Okay so a girls night out it is?”

“Eeeeh…” she started hesitatingly, blushing a little

“what do you mean ‘eeeh’?”

“How about…”

“Wait! You want to ask the cute guy from our history class out, don’t you??” you said wiggling your eyebrows at her

“Heyy!” she punched your arm, “what I was going to say was: we could gather a few of our friends… and maaaaybe also hajoon…” she got quieter during the end mumbling the last word.

You grinned. “Well you can invite some people I guess, still don’t have a lot of friends that aren’t also yours here” you smiled a little embarrassed at yourself hearing that coming out of your mouth after being here for already one and a half year.

“Oh just not too many please… I’d like to still keep the circle small tonight.” you added

“Sure thing she said, sitting down on the couch and already looking through her phone for the right people”

Some time passed and you used it well by taking a nap, seemed like the best idea since you’re probably gonna be out the whole night. However, your peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by Coco barging in your room exclaiming that she finally had the perfect selection of people.

You mumbled a half awake “Shoot” and nuzzled your head back into your pillow.

“Okay so, since we want a rather small group this time, I made sure that I selected them very carefully!” She listed a few of your friend group to which you just nodded to, still half asleep.

“And-I-also-might-have-asked-Hajoon-if-he-was-free-and-he-is-joining-us!!” She quickly spat out hiding her face in her hands squealing like a little kid.

You grinned at her, “glad you finally had the guts to ask him out!”

“That’s not all thought, I thought that since I would be a little occupied with hajoon tonight I though I would invite someone for you too! BUT- Please don’t hit me now okay!”

You slowly opened your eyes looking at her kinda pissed already. “And who would that someone be?”

“Sammy…” she mumbled

“HUH?!?!” now it was really over with your beauty sleep, you shot up in your bed looking at her in disbelief. “Sammy?, you… mean Sammy Kim?? Your freind from highschool, who I had nothing but awkward interaction with since I met him last year?” 

“Awkward Interactions?” she giggled, “ if that’s what you call love at first sight but no clue how to handle it, yeah sure you guys had some AwKwArD InTeRaCtIoNs. And now don’t act like I didn’t realize how you two were looking at each other that night, plus how often you too hung out to sTuDy.”

“No No No, he really helped me out with my photography project back then, and you promised me that we would never speak of that night again!” Just as you finished your sentence Coco’s phone made a ding. She opened it and grinned once again.

“Oh come on you both have the hots for each other but your are both to scared to admit it and I like the effect you have on each other, you both are like creative chargers for one another. I’ve yet to see you procrastinate when he is around and you have heard his music improving yourself, do you think that comes just out of nowhere? Huh? Whatever he just texted that he is coming tonight so this discussion is over!”

You looked at her with wide eyes and your heart skipping a beat. You definitely have a crush on Sammy and yeah maybe that happened the first time you met him BUT you were just never really the relationship type of girl, plus you didn’t plan on staying in Korea after Uni so you didn’t want to get to attached to something/someone plus you liked things the way they were up until said night. New Years Eve Party to be exact. You and Coco had a party at the Apartment and most of your friends were wasted at 1am already and Sammy and You also had quite a bit to drink, one thing led to another and you only remember waking up next to him in your bed, all cuddled up together with and hunch of what could have happened. Luckily you two were up before everyone else thinking nobody noticed but of course Coco knew the second she looked at you once she woke up. Sammy had to leave quickly that day because of some issues with brother, who wanted to visit him on New Year’s. Ever since than you two tried to keep it casual by not addressing it at all and kind of ignoring each other and your feelings for one another a bit. Until now apparently.

You sighed falling back into your cozy bed once Coco left your room.

~Time skip~

You pushed the thoughts of the night ahead to the side -mostly for Coco since she was worried that you were actually mad at her.

To proof her wrong you put on a smile and you two started to get ready together while blasting music and starting to pre drink a bit. It felt so good though to finally have the time to go out with some friends again after all that studying and stress with exams, just getting ready with your roommate was already so much fun.

Soon your uber came and you were on your way to the club where Coco told the others to meet you. You saw Sammy already when from the car, and your heart stopped a beat. He was just leaning against the wall, headphones in and on his phone. You took a second to admire him before the car came to a spot where you guys could get out. Coco saw him as well form where you two were and tried to scare him since he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, but she failed.

You greeted Sammy with a warm hug, thinking that he would probably feel your fast heartbeat but you always hugged him to say hello and you didn’t want to make things more weird. To your surprise you could feel his heartbeat as well, which weirdly calmed you down a bit.

You too still kept a bit of a distance for now just making things seem “casual”, clearly aware of the tension between the two of you. You got a table at your favorite club and soon drinks started to flow. Your group had an awesome time dancing, drinking, catching up and just enjoying your freedom for now

The DJ was great and constantly playing what you wanted, a couple hours went by and your friend group started to get smaller, one after the other leaving with someone they flirted with for about half an hour. Oh and Coco was all tangled up with Hajoon just as you both expected. You didn’t care about all of that too much just enjoying yourself on the dance floor and chatting a bit with Sammy while still continuously ordering drinks.

Of course some dudes tried to hit on you especially while you were dancing, overflowing with confidence but you just told them to get lost, you were really not interested in any of them. You were really just here to have fun but as you caught a glimpse of the way Sammy was watching your every move you smiled a bit to yourself.

You both were a bit buzzed by now, it being around 1:30am and most of your friends, well actually all of them already gone. The club was still buzzing and you were in no way ready to leave yet, neither was Sammy. It may seem a bit boring to just stand at a table watching a girl dance for hours, only taking breaks to pee or take another shot, not for him tho. Watching your body float over that dancefloor, never missing a single beat, smiling with closed eyes. And every time you were sick of a song you made your way over to him smiling with sparkling eyes in which he could get lost in forever. Every time you would come over you two had a shot or two and every time you went back on the dancefloor you tried to convince him to come with you. He came with once or twice, wanting to stay there with you the whole night just being weightless together but he knew that if he kept dancing with you and already being a bit drunk, he would want more and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with that so he stayed at the table.

At around 3am your feet started to hurt from all the dancing in your heels and you were feeling pretty dizzy, still not wanting to stop dirinking. Sammy knew by the way you came back to him that you were ready to leave and get some food somewhere.

“Sammy…! Wanna grab a bite somewhere?!” you shouted in his ear hoping he would understand with all the loud music and people talking.

To be completely honest he didn’t understand anything over the loud music and his own spinning head but he knew what you wanted so he just nodded and you two left. Once you stepped out of the club you both took a deep breath an looked at each other for a second. In this moment the only thing you wanted to do was kiss him, get lost in his touch and never wake up from it again but instead you just smiled at him and repeatedly said that you were hungry.

Sammy was in the same position, he knew that soon he would not be able to contain himself if you keep looking at him with those intense eyes of yours. He laughed at you being a whiny baby and took your hand to lead you to your guys’ favorite 4am drunk-food place. You both knew that he initially just wanted to yank you a bit in the direction you had to go yet you kept walking hands interlocked up until you got to the food place. It just felt so natural that none of you wanted to let go, so you kept it that way for a few moments longer.

You two kept chatting a bit while enjoying your food. For the few other people in the restaurant you two just looked like a regular couple acting all cute together, feeding each other and giggling while still ordering a few drinks. The owner of the restaurant actually thought you two were so cute that she gave you another soju-bottle for free, “For the lovebirds” she said as she put a the bottle down and winked at you.

You looked at each other with big eyes and you started to giggle since you were still pretty drunk. You took the soju with you and left the restaurant after paying. You were not ready to leave one another yet but you remember that Sammy had that great view from his apartment rooftop so you went there, on the way your hands found each other again and you just walked in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

You set up everything and settled down on the roof with your soju and a blanket just starring into nothing. Soon the two of you were cuddled up listening to each other’s breath.

You sighed “I missed this, you know?”

“Missed what?” he tried playing dumb

“This.. you… us..” you mumbled into his chest trying to hide your blushing

“Me too” he said while running his hands through your hair.

You lifted your head to look at him in the dim light just taking in his features bit by bit. He just smiled at you, slowly closing his eyes, like a cat would do. Carefully you sat up a bit and firmly pressed your lips on his. He smiled into the kiss. It was a very sweet delicate kiss, maybe even innocent, savoring every little moment of a innocent yet so powerful love. You two dragged the kiss as long as your lungs would allow it, after that you quickly nuzzled your head into his warm chest again.

“We should head inside it’s really getting cold and I don’t want you to get sick…” he softly whispered

You nodded and you packed your things to move into the apartment. It was so much warmer and just as cozy as you remembered it. You let out a yawn, stretching your body, Sammy saw his chance and wrapped his arms around you from behind burring his head in your neck. “Tired?” he asked softly.

“yeah… a bit…”

“then let’s go to bed then, shall we?” he asked while already heading towards the bedroom. He gave you his favorite shirt and shorts to sleep in, knowing you would have asked for them sooner or later, also he loved the way they looked on you. You excused yourself to the bathroom to change.

Once you locked the door behind you, you started to freak out silently a bit but on the other hand, everything just felt so right, Your bodies and minds just fit perfectly together and you were kind of mad at yourself for wanting to cut this awesome connection after it got a bit more serious. You washed you face, changed into the clothes he gave you and took a deep breath before heading back to the bedroom.

Sammy was already all cuddled up and his room looked even more comfortable with the delicate fairy-lights you gifted him last Christmas. You crawled next to him getting comfortable. He gave you another soft kiss, but you wanted more. You started to intensify it to which he gave in, you were hungry for him the whole night already so you were more than eager letting your hand slowly travel over his body an to the hem of his boxers but suddenly he grabbed your hand. A bit perplex you broke the kiss and looked at him confused.

“did... did I do something wrong?” you asked quietly “Do you not want to?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong y/n…” he gave you a peck “It’s just, the last time we did it too quickly and lost each other for a few months… And I don’t want to lose you… this... us again... is… is it okay if we just fall asleep in each other’s arms for now?”

You started to tear up a bit at his words, this was the first time he actually told you how he really felt -probably a bit because of the alcohol too but you didn’t mind that- and it made you realize how you felt as well, so you nodded stealing one last kiss before cuddling up with him and slowly drifting of to sleep while listening to his heartbeat.

~To be continued~

[srivsblk]

strange theories to keep the boys away | george weasley;

summary: after you created a “strange theory” to find a date for the Yule Ball and have fun, George Weasley, your best friend Ron’s brother, is sure that he’s the right guy;

warnings: —;

—

“What are you doing?” asked Ron Weasley sitting right in front of me.

The library had never been this noisy. All the students arrived with the intention of studying for those few subjects in which the professors continued to give homework and inevitably ended up talking about the Yule Ball.

“What do you mean what am I doing?” I asked looking at him confused. “Studying.”

“Well, everyone is talking about the Yule Ball,” Ron shrugged while Harry sat next to him. “You probably already have a date.”

I sighed and placed the quill on the table, paying my attention to Ron. “Actually, no,” I said observing Ron's expression, which went from calm to shock. “Oh, don’t look at me like that!”

“You- You don’t have a date!” Ron exclaimed wide-eyed pointing at me. “How?”

“High expectations regarding boys, I guess,” I shrugged looking around the room. “I mean, it's not like nobody asked me.”

“Did you know it?” I heard Ron asking Harry in a whisper receiving a simple ‘no’ as an answer.

“Have you seen Hermione, by any chance?” I asked frowning and still looking around. “I thought she was with you two.”

Harry shrugged. “Actually, we thought she was with you.”

I nodded with my brows furrowed and realized that Hermione was probably somewhere around the castle talking about her beloved S.P.E.W. Although Hermione remained my best friend and the only one I could talk to about women's issues, lately I found myself spending more time with Harry and Ron. And when I needed Hermione, I went to the library hoping to find her and sometimes failing. For this reason, I had now spent so much time in the library and alone that I had finished my homework and devoted myself to taking notes on future topics.

“How much time did you spend in the library?” asked Ron observing the open page of the Potions book in front of me. “I'm pretty sure Snape hasn't explained those things yet!”

“Well, long enough to be able to say I’m ahead of the schedule.”

“Ahead?” Ron said shocked. “Blimey, Y/N, either Hermione has infected you or you are terribly bored!”

“Thanks, Ron, coming from you it's a real compliment!” I said sarcastically. “And how's the date you don't have because you're too chicken to ask someone to come to the Yule Ball with you?”

Ron, visibly offended in his pride, was about to argue but was suddenly cut off.

“Yes, Ron! How's your date?”

Turning slightly I noticed that Fred and George Weasley were behind me and had probably overheard the last part of the conversation. Being one of Ron's best friends and having spent a lot of time at his home, seeing Fred and George was nothing new. In fact, in the last year I was sometimes surprised not to see them more often, but Ron kept repeating that they had become suspicious since we arrived at Hogwarts. As Fred sat on my left and George on my right, Ron rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I thought you two were busy.” Ron muttered looking between the twins.

“Exactly,” Fred said smirking. “We were.”

“But a little break doesn't kill anyone,” continued George who was mirroring his brother’s expression. Meanwhile, Harry had a smirk on his face and was exchanging amused glances with me.

“Oh, me and my date are perfectly fine,” Ron said with a forced smile, “but let’s talk about Y/N who still doesn't have a date!”

I looked at him tilting my head confused. “I think you didn't listen to me, Ronald,” I sighed. “It was a choice!”

“I can’t believe you,” Ron said shaking his head. “Nobody goes alone to the Yule Ball by choice!”

“What do you mean?” asked Fred curious.

I sighed and turned to Fred explaining myself. “Someone has already asked me to go to the Yule Ball with them and I refused saying I already had a date.” I calmly said before glancing at Ron who was shaking his head. “However, it's a good choice I've made this past week and I have no second thoughts.”

“I still don't understand it!” groaned Ron frustrated. “From what other guys say you are one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts and even Malfoy would not care about your house and social status to go to the Yule Ball with you. You're wasting your luck, Y/N!”

“What is your choice based on?” asked Harry over Ron’s muttered words.

I looked at him and noticed that he was genuinely curious and so I started telling him what I kept telling myself every day. “The guys who asked me to go to the Yule Ball with them were from Durmstrang. I have nothing against them but... I mean, I didn't know them enough! You know how sad it is to go to the Yule Ball with one of them and spend a boring evening or discover that maybe they are like Karkaroff! I have decided that I will go with a person with whom I know I can have a pleasant evening. Besides, I'm not afraid to go alone.”

I caught my breath after my words and took the time to observe the reactions of the other boys. Harry struggled to understand my reasoning, but Ron had given up as soon as he heard the news and was waiting with his arms folded for a reaction as exaggerated as his. Fred, however, looked at me confused and George, who had listened carefully to my words, was thinking hard about something.

After twenty seconds of pure silence, Ron decided to interrupt the confusion. “Blimey, Y/N, there is no need to make up strange theories to keep the boys away.”

Ron's words sparked a deep rage that caused my body temperature to rise dramatically. My cheeks were probably tinged red with anger because I noticed Harry looking at me worriedly as if I was going to explode. Ron, however, did not notice the effect of his words. He had behaved like this with Harry before the first task, with Hermione more than once and now with me too. I had enough. With all the anger still inside, I got up from my chair causing a noise that attracted the attention of some people in the room and quickly collected my books. I took the bag and looking at Ron with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, I left. At that moment even Hagrid could have mistaken me for an angry dragon. Keep the boys away. How dare he? He knew me well and I would have accepted such words coming from Pansy Parkinson or Draco Malfoy, but not from Ronald Weasley. Was he jealous? Well, it wasn't my fault that he hadn't found the courage to ask Hermione to be his date! Yet it was not a plausible enough excuse to blame me for not accepting two proposals!

“Y/N!” I heard a voice calling me, which made me turn around and stop.

George Weasley had probably run from the library to follow me and was slightly out of breath. His hair slightly longer than last year was disheveled due to running. His bag was about to fall off his shoulder and there was a slight flush on his cheeks. After waiting for him to say something, I looked at him confused.

“What is it, George?” I asked in a kinder tone, regretting the brusque behavior of before. “Listen, if it’s about Ron-”

“Ron?” he asked frowning. “No, nothing about Ron, love! I just had to ask you something.”

I shrugged. “Go on, then.”

He looked around and was struggling to find the right words, but nonetheless he took a deep breath and became serious. “You and I. The Yule Ball. Together.”

George tried not to show his insecurity and was waiting for an answer from me, but he probably noticed my confusion because soon after he started to move his mouth looking for the right words, perhaps afraid of having said something wrong.

“Are you asking me to be your date, George?” I asked slowly understanding.

“Only if you want to!” he said hopeful adjusting the bag on his shoulder. “And don't think it's pity or something. I want to take you to the Yule Ball.”

I watched George closely and noticed small details that I had always overlooked in recent years. George had become a handsome boy and his fame as a prankster had made him known throughout the school. But I only knew him as Ron's brother who had always been nice to me, even defending me from some bad Slytherin pranks. “Yes,” I said satisfied of my choice. “I'll go to the Yule Ball with you!”

The expression on George's face went from nervous to relieved and enthusiastic in less than a second. He kissed me on the cheek and ran away screaming through the halls as if he had won an important Quidditch match. The place where George left the kiss on my cheek was warm and when I touched it I suddenly smiled. Then I turned and continued walking - this time more slowly and cheerfully - towards the common room.

What happened in the following days was a succession of events and voices that created a sort of pause between the moment when George had asked me to go to the Yule Ball and the evening that everyone was waiting for.

Although Hermione was shocked when I told her that same evening that I had accepted George's proposal, she told me that she should actually have foreseen it. However, she told me that I hadn't chosen badly since at least with George I was sure I could have fun. As for her date, Hermione had finally told me that she had agreed to go with Victor Krum and that he wasn't as bad as everyone thought. George, on the other hand, kept an impassive attitude when he met me with Harry and Ron. He had only told Fred and Lee Jordan that I was his date, as only Ginny and Hermione had heard from me. Harry and Ron had not suspected anything, although they had known that I had finally found a date. Apparently, neither Ron nor I wanted to resume that discussion because he was merely commenting on the Yule Ball matters with Harry. Just a few days before the event, I discovered that my two best friends were planning to bring the Patil twins to the Yule Ball. I thought it was a choice to save themselves from the inevitable loneliness, but I never told them. Hermione still didn't talk about her date in front of Ron and she preferred to avoid any conversation about the Ball.

“Who is he?” asked Ron two days before the Yule Ball while playing chess with Harry.

I sighed closing the book I was reading and looked at him. “No need to keep asking, Ron! You'll see him in two days.”

However, even though I kept refusing, Ron was so curious about my date's name that he repeated the names of all male Hogwarts students from our year and up. Still, it was interesting how he skipped his twin brothers, probably sure that neither George nor Fred saw me as a real girl.

On Christmas day, just after waking up and opening the presents, Hermione and I met Harry and Ron and went to breakfast together. Although the general excitement for the Yule Ball, we decided to spend the morning in the Gryffindor tower, where everyone enjoyed their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch. The afternoon passed quickly between walks on the grounds of Hogwarts and snow fights. Hermione and I watched Harry and the other Weasleys having snow fights, while Hermione occasionally sneaked a glance at the smiles George and I exchanged. Around five, Hermione checked the time and took my arm as she rose from the ground. Apparently it was already late and we had to get ready for the evening.

“What, you need three hours?” said Ron, looking at Hermione incredulously, and being hit by George with a snowball. “Who’re you two going with?” he yelled after me and Hermione, but she just waved while I smiled at George and shook my head. Then we disappeared up the stone steps into the castle.

It had taken three hours to prepare both me and Hermione. She had been having some problems with her bushy hair as I kept pacing the room, trying not to panic. Hermione, as soon as she noticed my nervousness, tried to calm me down ("Oh, George is a great guy, Y/N! You'll definitely have fun.") and she helped me put on my dress. Looking in the mirror I had never felt this way. Suddenly, Christmas at Hogwarts took on another meaning. I looked at Hermione smiling and we finally headed for the Great Hall.

Arriving at the Great Hall Hermione left me with a hug and walked over to Krum. I peered around looking for George or at least Harry and Ron so as not to feel completely alone. Finally, after a few moments, I found George talking animatedly with Fred, who had a splendid Angelina beside him. As I walked towards them, Angelina said something to George making him turn in my direction and he finally noticed me. My smile widened further and I saw it was the same for George. He walked away from Fred and Angelina and arrived in front of me.

“You’re-” George couldn’t find the words while looking at me. “Merlin, Y/N, you’re wonderful!”

“You're not bad too, George!” I smiled taking his arm. “I've spent the last three hours preparing myself and I'm not going to lie, I'm nervous.”

“Well, no need to be nervous, love,” said George smirking. “It will be an unforgettable evening, trust me!”

“Oh, I trust you,” I said looking around. “Why are they all looking in our direction?”

George shrugged smirking. “Actually, they’re looking at me. They always do like this when they see me, don't worry!”

I laughed and held his arm tighter. “For a moment I had forgotten that you are the funny one.”

“Never forget that, love,” said George closer to my ear as we entered the Great Hall.

I noticed that Harry was nervous next to one of the Patil twins and Hermione was talking to Krum smiling. Many people needed more than a glance to recognize Hermione Granger, but I smiled at her as she did the same when she noticed me not far from her.

The first part of the evening passed quickly between laughter and an exquisite dinner. Fred kept throwing jokes at Angelina who pretended to be angry for a while and then laughed with the others. George and I had relaxed so much that being this close after a while felt more natural. He kept one arm on my chair and I squeezed his hand when he complimented me. When dinner was over and the Champions started dancing with their dates, George kept holding my hand before smiling at me and taking me to the dance floor. We may not have been the best dancers, but dancing with George just made me happy. After more dances together, George and I walked off the dance floor laughing and, noticing Harry and Ron near a table, we walked over to them.

“Why aren’t you two dancing?” I asked frowning and still holding George’s hand.

“We’re bored.” Ron muttered looking between me and George and trying to change the topic. “So you two-”

“What?” I asked curious.

“Nothing,” shrugged Ron sighing. “I didn't know you had a crush on George. That’s all.”

“I-” I tried to find the right words but felt my cheeks flush. “What are you talking about?”

“And you, George,” Ron said narrowing his eyes at George. “I didn't know you were interested in my best friend! Because that's what Y/N is, a sort of sister.”

As my cheeks became more and more red, I felt George boil in anger beside me at Ron's tone. “Well, Ron, maybe she is your sister, but not mine.”

“Whatever,” mumbled Ron sulky. “However, you remain two traitors. You haven't even told me anything about it.”

Harry stood next to Ron watching the scene. He was too smart to criticize us and agree with Ron, but he was too afraid of losing his best friend again to go against him. So I realized that Ron's only intention was to ruin the evening for all his best friends just because he didn't get what he wanted so much.

“You know, I had enough, Ron,” I said firmly looking at him. “Just because you can't have the best night of your life because of your bad mood doesn't mean you have to ruin my night too! For once I'm having fun and you ruin everything. I can’t accept it, I'm sorry.”

I walked away from my two friends and George with my heart pounding with anger. I didn't want to ruin anyone's evening, so my goal was to go outside and get some air and then find George and continue the wonderful evening. I noticed that the air outside was too cold for how I was dressed, so I sat on a sheltered bench observing the people around me. I recognized a fifth year girl walking with a boy from Durmstrang, and a seventh year couple sitting on a bench not far from me.

“Excuse me, is this seat occupied?” asked someone and turning around I found George smirking. As soon as I shook my head, George sat down beside me.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled feeling guilty. “I had a wonderful evening with you and I feel I ruined it by talking to Ron.”

George slightly smiled and took my hand in his. “If anything you made this evening better by silencing Ron in less than two minutes!”

I laughed and looked at him. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“Well, no,” said George frowning. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

��For what?”

“You deserve someone like Diggory or Krum, and instead you end up with George Weasley, the prankster,” George shrugged looking down.

“I like George Weasley,” I smiled holding his hand. “I don't think I would have had more fun with Diggory or Krum tonight. Or any other night.”

George looked at me smirking. “So did you have fun?”

I laughed nodding. The couple of seventh year students looked at us for a second before turning around. “I had a wonderful evening and you, George,” I pointed a finger towards him. “you were wonderful.”

George stared at me without saying anything for a few seconds. He had a satisfied smile on his face and his eyes were moving from my eyes to my lips. Suddenly he brought his face close to mine and kissed me. It was a small kiss and it didn't last long. But it had stayed on my lips like a tattoo on someone's skin. A golden but small tattoo. I noticed that George's cheeks had turned red to his ears covered in long hair and he seemed eager to have a reaction from me. But all I did was get closer and kiss him more deeply than before. It didn't matter if it was cold and winter or if anyone could see George and Y/N kissing in the courtyard. It was something I wanted to do instinctively when I never did anything instinctively. After years of rational choices, kissing George Weasley was instinctive.

“Do you want to go back to the Great Hall?” George asked after the kiss. “Let's dance a little more and then I'll take you back to the common room.”

I nodded standing up still holding his hand. “What a night,” I said smiling and shaking my head.

“And you haven't seen anything yet, love,” said George walking and hugging me. “George Weasley can do better! Ask me for the moon and I'll bring you the entire galaxy. We still have time, after all!”

And that was true. We still had time. We were young and free and at the start of something which we would later call love. But in that moment it was still too soon. Two young students not knowing what is that feeling when you hang from the lips of the person you like and wait for their proposal or opinion, when you think that no sad moment can ever get over this happy moment. Because that person is your happy moment. And George Weasley became all of my moments.

[marjansmarwani]

we won the cosmic lottery

2.1k || ao3

When Mya convinces Carlos to try speed dating on what would otherwise be a lonely Valentine’s Day, he’s pretty sure it’s going to be a disaster. Until a man who manages to light up his world with one look slides into the seat before him, that is. Suddenly he’s feeling a lot more optimistic.

Or, Tarlos Alternate First Meeting: Speed Dating Edition

I wrote fluff again and I am probably more surprised than you are. 

But I found this prompt from @madamewriterofwrongs in my inbox from several months ago and figured why not write a Valentine’s Day fic and try to stretch those fluff muscles again. Beta’d by @officereyes 💕 

-----------

As bad ideas went, Carlos was pretty sure this was one. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“What, you had other hot plans for Valentine’s Day?” Mya asked him, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him over her drink. 

“No,” Carlos admitted, “but that doesn’t mean this was the correct alternative.” 

“Why not? You’ll waste an hour of your life, talk to some people, come out with some good stories if nothing else. I think it sounds like the perfect alternative to spending the night home alone with Netflix.” 

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he told her, tipping his glass to her before taking another drink.

“I have tried it Carlos, far too many times. You have too - that’s why we’re here.” 

“To get a look at Austin’s future serial killers?” 

Mya rolled her eyes at him before lightly smacking his arm with her clutch, “No, Officer Buzzkill. We’re here for a chance to maybe meet Mr. or Ms. Right.” 

Carlos twisted on his stool to survey the crowd gathered in the reserved section of the bar. He typically didn’t like to make assumptions without at least trying to get to know someone first, but he could honestly say that none of the men in the crowd even gave him the slightest glimmer of hope for the evening. He should have stayed home. 

He turned back to Mya with a dubious expression and she rolled her eyes again, “Lighten up Carlos, at the very least it can’t hurt.”

Carlos cast a glance back to one guy who was leering at him from the other side of the room and grimaced, “I’m not too sure about that.” 

His partner opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone grabbing a microphone and calling the crowd to attention. 

“Good evening lonely hearts!” the host said once the din of the crowd had died down. Carlos shot Mya a look but she ignored him. 

“We’re going to get started here in a few minutes,” the host continued, “but before we start moving I just wanted to go over the specifics. Upon checking in you were given a bracelet. These are to help with the logistics. If you received a red bracelet you will be taking a seat at any of the open tables. If you got a pink one you will be rotating between the tables.”

Carlos glanced down at his wrist to see a red bracelet sitting there. Mya held up her own wrist to show another red one, “Looks like we both get to have people come to us tonight.” 

Carlos chuckled at her before turning his attention back to the host, who was still explaining the rules. 

“When the bell dings, you will rotate to the table to your right. You will have 3 minutes with each potential suitor and when the bell rings, you will move to the next one. Make sure that you write down their number and check yes or no before you part on the card provided - that’s how we will be pairing you! At the end of the evening we will be comparing all the lists and you will receive a list of the names and contact info of any suitors you mutually matched with to the email provided. After that, the ball is in your court! So make sure you make the most of these three minutes; it could be the time you find your soulmate!” 

The room filled with polite clapping and Carlos turned again to Mya, “You can’t be serious.” 

“Lighten up Reyes,” she said with a wink, “you wouldn’t want to scare your potential soulmate away.” 

“Fine, I’ll ‘lighten up’. But if one of these creeps murders me to make a skin suit, I’m holding you personally responsible.” 

“I don’t believe in ghosts so your threats have no effect on me.” 

There were several more things he wanted to say to his partner, but he was interrupted by the sound of the host telling them all to head to their respective areas. As they went to stand up, Mya reached out to touch his arm, “it’s going to be fine Carlos, really. You’ve got this; try to have some fun for once.” 

Her tone and expression were much more gentle than before and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, “Thanks Mya,” he replied with a grateful smile. “Now go find Ms. Right.” 

She matched his smile and with a wave, she was gone. Carlos took another steady breath and headed to the guy’s section of the room, taking a seat at one of the tables. He pulled the card out of his jacket pocket and picked up one of the pencils waiting on the table, twirling it through his fingers anxiously. And when the first contender of the night slid into the seat before him he forced on a warm smile and held out his hand in greeting. Mya was right, he had this. 

--------

7 dates later he was less sure he had this. 

They hadn’t all been creeps, per se (though numbers 2 and 6 definitely had been) but they also hadn’t done anything to elicit any kind of spark in Carlos. They had been nice enough and reasonably good looking, but Carlos had decided a long time ago that good enough wasn’t worth the effort. If he was going to try and make a go of something with someone, they had to be someone who made him feel something. It had to be worth the risk. 

He was contemplating his abysmal luck when the next guy slid into the chair across from him. Carlos looked up and all coherent thoughts fled his head. This guy was... gorgeous was the only word Carlos could come up with that did him justice. Everything about him was perfect and Carlos couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He eventually noticed the extended hand in what he sincerely hoped was a normal amount of time and took it, still studying him as he blurted out the first thought that came to mind: “I didn’t see you here before.” 

He definitely hadn’t been here when things were starting, Carlos would have noticed him in a crowd, he was absolutely sure about that. The other man smiled sheepishly, “yeah, I got here a bit late. I was trying to convince myself to actually come. My friends had to practically push me in the door.” 

Carlos chuckled, “My friend had to pretty much drag me here with her. Are your friends here?” 

“They’re at a bar down the street for ‘moral support’,” he responded with an eye roll, but a fond expression. 

“That’s so helpful.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

They both laughed again before Carlos suddenly realized they had yet to even exchange names, “I’m Carlos, by the way.” 

“TK, nice to meet you.” 

“That’s an interesting name. Does it stand for something?” 

TK grinned at him coyly, “It does, but that’s at least a level 4 backstory, and we’re barely at level one.” 

Carlos grinned back, feeling the quip come easily despite the butterflies definitely fluttering in his stomach, “Well, we’ve got some time to work on that. Personally though I recommend we skip over levels 1 and 2, those are mundane at best.” 

TK’s green eyes lit up as he laughed. The sound sent a shock through Carlos’s entire body and in that moment, Carlos decided he had been wrong. He owed Mya an apology: this had been an excellent idea after all. 

-----

His three minutes with TK had not been nearly long enough. When the bell had dinged he had nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been so absorbed in their conversation he hadn't noticed the passage of time. It felt like they had been talking all night, but also as if they had barely begun to talk at all. 

TK gave him an apologetic smile as he stood from his chair, “I guess that’s my cue. It was really nice talking to you though, Carlos.”

“Yeah, you too,” he responded. He hesitated for a moment as he studied the other man. In only three minutes he had felt more of a connection with TK than he had with people he had dated for weeks. Maybe it was that they were both first responders, maybe it was something else, but he wasn’t ready to let this go. So many things were mysteries, but Carlos knew one thing for sure: if he let TK walk away from him tonight, he might just end up regretting it for the rest of his life. 

“Would you maybe like to catch up when we’re done here? Maybe get a drink, talk some more?” 

TK paused mid-stride, raising an eyebrow, “You still have two more dates left, how do you know you won’t want to spend the evening with them instead?” 

“Call it intuition.” 

He could call it intuition or blind hope or desperation if he wanted, Carlos really didn’t care. He just knew in his gut that it was right, that TK was someone he needed to get to know more. TK was still considering him, and Carlos anxiously awaited his verdict. This was so far outside of his comfort zone and he was pretty sure that if TK turned him down he was going to head back to his condo tonight and not leave for at least two days, too buried in embarrassment and shame to face the outside world. But this felt worth the risk; he just hoped he hadn’t read these feelings wrong. 

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime passing in the moment of a breath, TK smiled. “I’d like that,” he said, “I guess bachelors 9 and 10 are out of luck for both of us then.” 

“Try to let them down easy.” 

TK laughed again, squeezing his shoulder as he walked away, “As long as you promise to do the same—getting turned down by you would be a tough pill to swallow, Carlos. Try to break their hearts gently.”  

-------

Carlos was still feeling the euphoria of TK’s smile 10 minutes later when a figure slid into the seat next to him at the bar. He turned eagerly, ready to see TK’s eyes again and felt disappointment, followed by instant guilt, when it wasn’t TK but Mya occupying the seat next to him. 

“Well that was a waste of time,” she declared as she slumped forward onto the bar, “you were right. I shouldn’t have dragged you here, I’m sorry. Wanna go get tacos at that truck you love to drown our sorrows?” 

“Actually,” Carlos began, but their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone calling his same from behind them. They turned in tandem and Carlos felt his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of TK, who was looking between him and Mya. 

“Hey Carlos, I just wanted to see if you were ready for that drink yet. If you’re not we can...” 

Mya interrupted before TK could finish his sentence, “I was just leaving, actually. I’m Mya, by the way—Carlos’s partner and friend.” 

TK turned his gorgeous smile on her and held out a hand, “TK Strand, nice to meet you.” 

“TK’s a firefighter,” Carlos told Mya, biting back a smile as she raised an eyebrow and TK nodded, “I’m with the 126.”

“Well, TK Strand with the 126, take good care of my partner here. He’s pretty special.” 

“I’ve already gotten that feeling,” TK agreed, giving Carlos another grin that he felt straight through to his soul. 

Mya smirked as she stood from her seat, looking between them as she pulled out her keys, “I’d say have a good rest of the night, but I think that’s already a given. I’ll see you on Monday Carlos, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” 

Mya shrugged as she started to walk away, “I’m sure I’ll think of something.” 

“Text me when you get home!” he called after her. 

“Yes mom!” she called back as she reached the door. Before she opened it to head out into the Austin night she turned one more time and shot him a smile and a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes fondly, but nodded. Then she was gone and he turned all of his attention to the man beside him. He was grinning too and Carlos was starting to get the feeling that he might never get used to the things that smile did to him.  

TK slid into Mya’s abandoned seat and leaned closer to him, “So where do we start?” 

Carlos smiled back and waved down the bartender to get drinks for them. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but he had a feeling wherever it was would be the beginning of something great. He turned and caught TK’s eyes again, savoring the warmth that emanated from them. 

Tonight may have started out feeling like a mistake, but he was starting to think it may have actually been more like fate. 

[whumpcollector]

Lucas Pt.8: The gladiator and the Captain

Hey everyone. Here I am, back at it again with Lucas. There’s a bit of character introduction and set up coming so hopefully ya’ll don’t mind the slower pace. Hope you all enjoy.

CW: Mentions of vomiting

Lucas knelt over a bucket, dry heaving and choking as his stomach churned. Sweat poured down his forehead, his body shaking as another wave of nausea washed over him.

“I am so sorry Lucas,” Jawad said, kneeling beside the boy and patting his back. “I didn’t think you would take to the tincture this poorly...”

Lucas tried to respond, but any attempt at speaking was shut down as another dry heave hit him. Nothing came up, what little food Lucas had in his stomach had long since been expelled. All he could do now was wait for things to pass. 

Jawad signed, walking over to his desk and picking up his journal. He scribbled in the pages, shaking his head slightly. He turned back to Lucas. “Do you at least feel like your magic has returned?”

Lucas took his head out of the bucket, holding up a shaky hand and trying to bring forth a flame. Nothing manifested and Lucas had to abandon his attempt as another wave hit him.

“I suppose that's a no then.”

It had been a couple of days since Lucas had first awoken. He had not left Jawad’s tent, the doctor insisting that Lucas remain so he could monitor his recovery. There had been no issues, by all accounts he was healing like any normal person would. Lucas didn’t know how he felt about that. It was good that nothing bad was happening, but it was also...strange. He was used to any injuries he had healing in a few hours at most. The need for bandages, the bleeding, the soreness that came from healing muscle, it all felt unnatural. 

He didn’t care to think about whether or not he would need to get used to it.

At last the nausea faded and Lucas was able to pull himself to his feet. He was still shaky, having to brace himself against the table to avoid falling over. Jawad gently grabbed onto his arm, guiding him over to the bed and letting him sit down. He handed Lucas a bowl of water, letting him rinse out his mouth. 

“Thank you.” Lucas said, bowing his head slightly. Jawad had so far not been partial to the more overt displays of submission that Captain Edwin had drilled into Lucas. Anything more than an appreciative thanks was dismissed as being ‘unnecessary’. Lucas was grateful that so far these mistakes had gone unpunished.

“No thanks needed Lucas, least of all because I just poisoned you…” Jawad trailed, flipping through his journal some more. “Hmmm, perhaps another potion might work...if only I had something more reliable than my old mentor’s theories.” He turned to Lucas. “Are you certain there is nothing you might know that could lead us in the right direction?”

Lucas thought for a moment, racking his brain before a memory stuck out. “When I was with my old masters I was given a sort of potion once. It, um, it sort of helped my magic after I had used it a lot.”

Jawad’s eyes lit up and he walked over to Lucas, sitting down next to him and focusing on him intently. “What do you remember about it? Taste, texture, smell.” 

Lucas tried to recall what he could. Everything before his time with Captain Edwin felt fuzzy, like he was trying to look at it through thick fog. “Um, it was thick...I think? Yes it was a thick liquid and…” Lucas trailed off, trying to remember anything else. “I think...it burned when I drank it.”

Jawad nodded, writing in his journal before responding. “Do you know what it was called? Or where your...old master,” he frowned at the word, “purchased it?” 

Lucas shook his head. “No.”

“Any specific taste, any...side effects of the potion?”

“N-no.”

“Do you remember what color it was?”

“It...no.”

“Did it have a particular smell?”

“It...it smelled...sweet?”

Jawad hummed to himself, flipping through the pages of his journal rapidly. After a seemingly unsuccessful search he stood up and walked over to his table, sifting through several thick tomes and other journals. Lucas watched apprehensively, shrinking back as the doctor became more and more frustrated with his search. After what must have been at least half an hour Jawad slammed the book he was holding onto the table, causing Lucas to flinch.

“Well, there are at least a dozen theoretical,” he spat the word out like it tasted of ash, “concoctions and tinctures that help restore the use of magic and share some similarities with what you described, but without any more details I can’t determine which, if any, of the ones in my records match the one you were given.” He pinched his forehead. “Much less if any of them work.”

Lucas bowed his head. “I-I’m sorry for not being of any help, a-and for wasting your time.”

Jawad sighed, walking back over to Lucas, patting the boy on his shoulder. “It's not your fault.” He turned away, crossing his arms and placing a hand on his chin. “Perhaps it's time you introduce yourself to the others in camp. From what I can tell your recovery is coming along fine, and I imagine you’d want to get out of this tent by now.”

Lucas swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He had been dreading this, being forced to serve the others in the camp. Jawad had been easy to satisfy so far, and he was just getting used to how to address and act around him. Now he would have to learn all over again, with people likely far less forgiving than Jawad was. 

Still, it wasn’t up to him who he did and did not serve.

Jawad must have taken Lucas’s silence as agreement, which it was in a way, and beckoned Lucas to follow him out of the tent. Lucas complied, walking out from under the tent flaps and into the camp itself. He squinted at the sun, the bright light hurting his eyes after so long in relatively dim conditions. 

“Ah, Lucas. I see you are on your feet now. That is good news.”

Lucas turned to see Mehrzad approaching him, saber slung over his shoulder and helmet held at his side. He was the only person Lucas had really seen over the past few days, often bringing Jawad food or supplies he requested. He didn’t really talk to Lucas, usually only staying around long enough to drop off what he needed to and say a few parting words to his husband. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking Lucas up and down.”You seem a bit pale.”

“I am afraid that would be my fault.” Jawad said. “The solution I made had some...unfortunate side effects.”

Mehrzad let out a hearty laugh. “Ah, I see you’ve been on the receiving end of my dear husband’s ‘experiments’. I remember one time when he tried to brew something for stomach pain. I wa-”

“I’M certain Lucas doesn’t wish to hear the, well, gory details of that...” Jawad trailed off with a chuckle. “Why don’t you show Lucas around the camp? I need to convince Jon to let me acquire another batch of ingredients. I’m not sure what they are yet, but I don’t imagine they will be cheap.”

Jawad walked off, healing towards a large tent towards the center of camp. Lucas guessed that was where Captain Jonathon was. Lucas hoped he wouldn’t get too mad at Jawad’s request. Jawad shouldn’t have to get in trouble for his sake.

And Lucas didn’t want the doctor to have any reason to vent his frustrations. 

Mehrzad clapped Lucas on the back, causing the boy to flinch slightly.“Well, looks like you are stuck with me for a while. Come, give you the tour.”

Lucas followed dutifully behind Mehrzad as he was led through the camp, head bowed and trailing by a couple of feet. The camp was large, with close to two dozen tents standing and numerous people milling around.

“Most of the people here are temporary hires, we call them ‘temps’. They usually only stick around for a few contracts or long enough to make it to a major city before leaving. You don’t need to worry too much about getting to know them, they’ll be replaced before you can get to remembering their names.”

Lucas grimaced at that. So many different people to get used to serving properly and he’d just have to relearn everything again later. Avoiding mistakes would be impossible. He looked around at some of the passing people. All of them looked imposing. Well built, big (or at least bigger than him), and...violent. A beating from any one of them wouldn’t be fun.

He decided not to think about what it would be like if they chose to gang up.

Lucas was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Mehrzad had stopped walking. The two bumped into each other and Lucas sprung back, shying away and waiting for the reprimand. Mehrzad simply stared at him, confusion on his face. After a few moments of awkward silence, Mehrzad finally spoke.

“Are you alright Lucas?”

Lucas looked up meekly, scanning Merhzad’s face for any sign of displeasure. “Um...yes I am sir. S-sorry sir.”

“Apology accepted?” He cocked his head, studying Lucas before humming to himself. “Perhaps we should rest for a moment, come sit with me.”

Mehrzad sat on a nearby fallen log, gesturing for Lucas to join him. Lucas obeyed and took a seat on the log, just close enough that he wasn’t being disrespectful but not too close for his own comfort. Mehrzad had seemed merciful thus far and Lucas felt like the man would be willing to give this one liberty. The lack of any reprimand confirmed his guess and Lucas let himself relax just a tad.

“So, Lucas, how are you feeling? You seem to be in much better shape, my husband’s experiments aside.”

“Oh. I’m feeling alright. Jawad says that my healing is going normally.” 

“That is good news.” Mehrzad reached into one of his greaves and pulled out a small dagger. Lucas tensed, eyeing the weapon warily, but the man simply began to use the tip to clean beneath his fingernails. “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you traveling with that caravan for? From what I can tell you weren’t exactly there of your own desire.” He turned to Lucas, a playful smile on his face. “Am I in the presence of some dangerous killer?”

Lucas looked down at his hands, memories of the attack flooding mind. Scenes of bloody fields and butchered corpses. He felt his throat tighten and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The bloodstained face of Harold flashed in his eyes and Lucas shook his head harshly, banishing the image before he had the chance to think about it. 

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to.” Mehrzad said softly. 

Lucas’ head snapped up at Mehrzad’s words. The man had a concerned look on his face, eyebrows narrowed and lips formed into a small frown. Lucas swallowed thickly. “I was a performer for, for two of the men at the caravan.”

“A performer eh?” Mehrzad raised an eyebrow at the answer. “It's a difficult job, pleasing a crowd, isn’t it? You run yourself ragged putting on a show, put everything you have into it only for the slightest mistake to turn everyone against you.”

Lucas looked at the man taken somewhat aback. “Y-yes. It was difficult. My master Harold always made me do better after each performance.”

“Ah, yes. Always have to make it bigger, flashier, more impressive. First you’re fighting a single man, then you’re shoved into a pit filled with a dozen hyenas and given nothing more than a broken spear.” He shook his head, almost as if reminiscing. “I was a gladiator back in my homeland, a rather good one if I may say. Sometimes I can still hear the roar of the crowd in my ears.”

Lucas didn’t know if he should say anything. The two lapsed into an awkward silence as Lucas contemplated possible responses. Mehrzad coughed, fiddling with his dagger before placing it back into his greave. 

“What's it like, using magic?” 

Lucas started slightly, looking at Mehrzad and frowning. How would he describe it? 

“It...hurts.” Merhzad raised an eyebrow but didn’t commnet. “It hurts when I try to use it, like, like I'm lighting a fire inside of my body that burns me. The more I try to do, the hotter it is and if I do too much it...it hurts a lot more.” He paused, looking down at his hands and running his fingers along the leylines. “But, it also feels natural, like it's something I’m supposed to do. Without I...I feel wrong. Like, like I can’t blink or, or move my fingers.” 

Lucas sniffled. “I don’t like it.”

Lucas was crying. He hadn’t realized he was until a tear landed on the back of his hand. A shaky breath left him and he wiped at his eyes, trying to regain his composure as best he could. An arm wrapped around his shoulders and he turned to see Mehrzad looking at him sympathetically.

“I can’t imagine what that feels like, losing something so...integral to who you are.” He handed Lucas a small piece of cloth and let home clean off his face. “But don’t worry. You will get your magic back. Jawad, for all of his eccentricities, is brilliant. Whatever the solution is to your problem, he will find it. I assure you.”

Lucas nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The pair sat together as Lucas gathered himself. Close to an hour passed and Mehrzad stood up, stretching his back and gathering his gear.

“I must go, Lucas. I have a contract soon and I am to meet the others for a briefing. You take care of yourself alright?”

With that Mehrzad left, and Lucas was left alone. A sense of unease filled him. What should he do? He wasn’t given any orders or instructions. Was he just supposed to...wander around until someone told him to do something? 

Lucas stood in place for a few moments before deciding to do just that. He looked around and decided to walk towards the center of the camp. As he moved he took in his surroundings trying to notice any major landmarks he might be told to go to. As he searched he noticed a woman working at what looked like a giant cauldron. She was busy skinning what looked like a deer. A cook perhaps. 

Lucas decided to ask if she was in need of help. Kitchen work was easy and he was decent at it. He probably wouldn’t do anything that warranted punishment. 

Not that she would need a reason if she wanted to hurt him. 

He started walking towards the woman when he heard someone call out to him.

“HEY! Who the hell are you?”

Lucas turned to see a lean man walking towards him. He stood straight, bowing his head as the man approached. “Haven’t seen you around before. You a new hire?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes sir, my name is Lucas. I am here to serve at your command.”

The man released an eyebrow. “What, really?” He fiddled with the scabbard on his hip before producing a dirtied sword. “You uh, you gonna clean this then?”

Lucas deflated, so much for kitchen work. Still, an order was an order. “Of course sir, if that is what you desire.”

“Shit, well, have at it then.” He dropped the sword into Lucas’s arms. 

Lucas grasped the sword carefully, making sure to avoid the blade. He noticed the man walking away and called out after him. “Um, sir, do you know where I could find a rag?”

“Fuck if I know kid, you figure it out.”

Oh. Lucas looked down at the sword, and then at his surroundings. He didn’t see anywhere that might have something to clean with. Maybe he could ask someone. He noticed a woman walking by and tried to talk to her.

“Excuse me ma’am cou-”

“Piss off asshole, I'm not in the mood for chatter.”

She didn’t even look at him as she walked away. Lucas deflated further, looking down at the sword. He needed to get it cleaned soon. If he took too long the owner might get angry. Moving to a nearby fallen log to sit on Lucas began to rub at the sword with his shirt.

The work was slow, with most of the grime coating the blade taking considerable effort to work out. His shirt quickly became stained, with black and brown splotches dotting the area he used to wipe the blade. Just as he was about to finish a group of three other people walked up to him, dirty equipment in hand.

“Hey you, you the kid whose cleaning kit?”

Lucas looked up and nodded meekly. “Yes sir, I am here to serve at your command.”

“Damn, well here, clean this would ya?”

All three of them dumped their equipment at Lucas’ feet before walking off, leaving Lucas with a much larger workload. He sighed, his shoulder slumping at the sight of the pile. Dejectedly he placed the sword against the log he was sitting on and got to work cleaning off a breastplate.

News about his services spread throughout the camp, and before long Lucas had a barrack’s worth of arms and armor waiting for him to clean. After a few pieces Lucas just decided to strip his shirt off, using as much of the fabric as he could. It was long and exhausting work, with the last pieces being cleaned close to sundown. His arms ached from the rubbing and sweat poured down his face. As he hunched over the particularly filthy spear a shadow loomed over him. He sighed internally, something else to clean.

“Um, Lucas. What are you doing?”

Lucas looked up to see Captain Jonathon standing in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“I am cleaning this equipment, Captain Jonathan.”

“Uh-huh. Why exactly?”

“Because I was told to, Captain Jonathan.”

“Did you...want to clean all this equipment?”

“I am more than happy to serve, Captain Jonathan.”

“Uh-huuuhhh. And you are using your shirt to clean because…?

“I could not find a rag, Captain Jonathon.”

The captain looked down at him like he had sprouted a second head. Lucas squirmed under his gaze, unsure if he had done something to upset the man. 

“How...how long have you been cleaning this stuff kid?”

“Um...since midday I believe Captain Jonathon.”

The captain exhaled, placing a hand on his face and shaking his head. “Ok. For the record, don’t go around cleaning everyone's kit alright? Don’t need any of these bastards getting lazier.”

Lucas nodded, quickly dropping the weapon and starting to pull his shirt back on.

“Don’t put that thing on!” Lucas’ eyes shot up to see Jonathon staring at him like he had just stuck his hand into a fire. “It’s covered in dirt and grease, what th- Cathrai above, what's wrong with you?”

Lucas inhaled sharply, dropping the shirt and then falling to his knees, head bowed. “Im-I’m sorry Captain Jonathan. I-I did not mean to upset you.”

Lucas waited, trembling as he heard the man approach. He screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a blow to land. Instead he felt a hand lay gently on his shoulder, and looked up to see the captain kneeling down to look at him.

“Hey kid, it's alright. Didn’t mean to snap at you. It's been a long day for both of us. Why don’t you go get cleaned up?” He pointed towards a nearby river. “Go take a bath. I’ll get you some new clothes and make sure Annya saves you some stew.”

Lucas paused for a moment before nodding eagerly. “Yes, Captain Jonathon. Th-thank you for your kindness.”

 “No problem kid.” Jonathan stood up, taking the shirt with him and walking away. After a few steps he turned. “Oh and uh, don’t call me ‘Captain Jonathon’, all the time. I imagine it gets a bit tiring .”

“Yes Ca-, yes sir. Sorry sir.”

Jonathan nodded and walked away. Lucas watched him for a few moments before making his way towards the river. It was a fair way away from any of the tents, far enough to give some privacy. Lucas undressed himself and walked into the water. It was cold, but once he was able to wash away the muck and grime that had built up on his skin he felt much better. 

After he finished cleaning himself Lucas sank down into the water slightly, letting himself relax. When was the last time he had been allowed to bathe in private? Or without a time limit? He honestly couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, he was allowed to now. He sank lower, resting his chin just above the waterline. He shouldn’t stay too long. He didn’t want Jonathon to think he was lazy or taking advantage of the man’s generosity. He let himself languish for another minute before pulling himself from the water. The air was cold against his wet skin but he didn’t mind. He hadn't felt this clean in...years probably.

Jonathon was sitting on a tree stump a short distance from the river. His back was to the water, a gesture that Lucas appreciated greatly. The man was carving at a piece of wood with a small knife, whistling a tune that Lucas didn’t recognize. He stopped when he heard Lucas’ footsteps, turning around and picking up a shirt he had laid across his lap. 

“You look better kid, here, new shirt for you.”

Lucas took the shirt and pulled it on. It was big, the fabric hung loosely off of his body, but it was clean and warm. “Thank you, sir.”

“No problem kid. I’ll see about getting you some nicer pants too, those things look a little thin.” 

“Thank you, sir.”

Jonathan nodded and gestured for Lucas to follow him. The two walked back to the camp, heading towards the center. Several small groups of mercenaries were sitting around a large bonfire, talking and laughing over bowls of food. Lucas saw the lady from earlier, Annya he figured, doling out stew from the cauldron, a small line forming in front of her. 

“Take a seat Lucas, I’ll go get us dinner.”

Lucas nodded and sat down on a box placed towards the fringes of the bonfire. Jonathan walked towards the lady, nodding to a few of the mercenaries he passed. Some nodded back, others offered salutes, one asked for the captain to join him and his friends at a game of dice. Jonathon declined and walked up to the cauldron, taking his place in line behind the others. 

Lucas watched him, trying to get a read on the man. He seemed well liked by most of the people in the camp. That was a good sign, well liked people don’t tend to dish out beatings for no reason. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt. It was well made, probably the nicest piece of clothing Lucas had ever worn. He was surprised it was wasted on him.  

The captain returned with two large bowls of stew, sitting next to Lucas and handing him one of them. “I had Annya give us the big bowls. Perks of being captain.” He pulled a spoon from one of his pockets and handed it to Lucas. “Eat up, you did a lot of work today. More than your share.”

Lucas took the spoon and dug into the meal. It was as good as always. He had been fortunate enough to be allowed meals every day so far, probably to help along his recovery. He hoped that things wouldn’t change too soon, though he had a sinking feeling that they would once he finished healing. 

“Annyas a blessing. Before we picked her up we didn’t have anyone who could cook. We ate what preserved crap we could carry and whatever we managed to hunt or forage.” Jonathan shook his head. “Once when we were low on supplies all we had to eat was raw grain and mushrooms for days. I don’t think I've come closer to being killed by my own men.”

The captain tilted his head back, draining the last of the broth from his bowl and placing it on the ground. He turned to Lucas, a serious expression on his face. Lucas paused, placing the bowl in his lap and waiting for the captain to speak.

Jonathan pulled out a small metal medallion shaped like a crown. “You see this? This is the emblem of the Crownsmen - that's the name of our company if you didn’t guess. Everyone who works for me has one, and it serves as a symbol of our unity and camaraderie, of our code. One very important tenant of that code is fairness, everyone pulls their fair share, no more no less.” He pocketed the medallion. “Now you aren’t a crownsman, but you are a guest in our camp, which means that applies to you too.”

Lucas gulped and bowed his head. “O-of course sir. I am more than willing to do whatever you order.”

Jonathan shook his head. “No, no. Probably could have phrased that better...” He muttered to himself quietly before turning his attention back to Lucas. “Anyways that's not what I meant. It's been less than a week since we pulled you half dead from the site of a massacre and today you spent the better part of 10 hours cleaning a barrack’s worth of kit. That is far and away beyond what I consider a fair share of work. You’re on your feet now so I’ll probably have you help around the camp a bit but any work you do comes from me. Anyone else tries to order you around you tell them to fuck off alright?”

Lucas nodded, it made sense that the captain of the camp would be the only one allowed to give him orders. At least that meant he would only need to learn how to please one person now.

“Good, now get some sleep. It’s late and you must be exhausted.” Jonathan stood up and began to walk away before turning around. “Oh, and if anyone tries to give you too much shit you let me know. I don’t tolerate infighting.”

“Yes sir, of course.”

Jonathan nodded and left. Lucas watched him for a moment before picking his bowl back up. Fatigue was starting to hit him hard and he could barely muster the energy to finish his food and walk back to Jawad's tent. It was empty, the doctor was likely taking care of something. Lucas was too tired to wonder what. He crawled into the cot he had been using and let himself drift away. 

So far, this place didn’t seem too bad.

Tags: @haro-whumps @ladygwennn @dramaticcollapse @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @brutal-nemesis @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @inpainandsuffering

[paper-cloud]

i. the crushing weight of what happens next

part of "(there will be a) tomorrow"

fandom: prospect (2018) characters: ezra, cee rating: T words count: ~3K context: post-canon general warnings/tags: see series masterlist warnings/tags for this chapter: ezra's pov. angst. not graphic descriptions of wounds, blood and amputated limbs. mentions of minor characters' death. (probably very) inaccurate but anyways vague descriptions of medical treatments and post-anesthesia symptoms. taglist: @ravensmutty @buttercup--bee @thegreenkid (again, thank you all for your interest and encouragement! :3) @krissology @ezrasarm @bonktime (please forgive my nerve, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you'll explicitly ask me to! just thought about someone else who might be interested and you guys are AMAZINGLY talented and inspiring "prospect"/ezra writers. it's not my intention to waste precious moments of your time! 🤡

[SERIES MASTERLIST] [MAIN MASTERLIST]

He'd have thought it was almost ironic – opening his eyes to the light only to see nothing. To feel pain.

He'd have laughed about it, most likely. A bit later, he'd have acknowledged it was a reasonably fair compromise; for him and any other wretch that'd ever dared play dice with darkness and miraculously made it out alive.

And in the very end he'd come to laugh at himself, too.

He knows the drill. Someone who trades their own life with the contract of the highest bidder doesn't see the universe in black and white, let alone is in a position to draw the hypothetical line between the two of them.

Must be an even more wicked universe than he's ever cared about, then.

At least, that's where the struggle of opening his eyes made him stumble upon; when a blade of light thrust through that hint of a gap he'd pushed himself to create in the middle, resonating through the dark coils of unconsciousness like a harsh, unforgiving bell.

A skilled mariner over silky rivers of natural redundancy and rapids of professional edges, Ezra is a man who can appreciate a sharp wit when he recognizes one.

That was too much even for him.

Floundering in between a blinding whiteness and a black hole that wasn't even completely black, but permeated by a thick, suffocating haze that filled every ghost haunting his mind with its stench. With the color of diabolically lush leaves.

Forest— spores— poison— death.

It hadn't been enough to let him dangle in apnea above a roaring vortex of lifeless emerald; take him away from the grey flow whose elusiveness he'd come to appreciate more than he'd ever hated to endure its chaos— from the bubble built on the routine series of one last jobs that, in the end, never really were.

There'd been a moment when, from the higher parts of the room, his pupils tumbled down, tripping over a patch of green discreetly lurking in a corner.

He almost threw up.

It had taken him a while to clear out the misty grit clotted in his corneas— focus on white walls, light wood paneling... a harmless seedling in a pot.

He'd breathed heavily, deeply. He sure hadn't got much relief from it. Still, he'd been able to hear its sound, louder than he'd ever heard it before, the musical, cooling mesh of oxygen particles in and out of his lungs almost begging his fingers to be touched.

Oxygen.

Fresh air.

Had he been less sore – less convinced it was just the residual effects of anesthesia pulling pranks on him –, he would have burst out laughing. Even more so if some poor soul of the medical staff nearby would have called for reinforcements from the other side of the space station before storming into his room.

He'd be laughing now, too. The best he can manage is sitting on his bed, leaning his back on the headboard – which is what he's struggling to do right now— and well, sometimes the room lighting still slightly bothers him. Of course, with all the painkillers and antibiotics they've given him, he wouldn't feel like the wound on his stomach is swallowing the entire arsenal of stitches and bandages.

He just wouldn't like her to get the wrong idea.

He blinks several times, like a man who no longer trusts his eyes. How can he, when they're burning like that, in such a different fire from the one from days before – damp and flickering? For reasons he can imagine, she seems to be faltering. Totally beyond his comprehension, he could swear she's smiling at him. Something inside his ribcage creaks oddly, while the curve of his chest arches upward.

"Birdie."

It's just a huff of breath, weak and hoarse, yet scratches his throat all the same, in a way that its walls feel studded with rock spurs. Actually, Ezra doesn't remember talking since they left the Green behind – which, being him, is saying something – and it's like an eternity has passed since their pod docked up there.

The nurse who let her into his room has just left and Cee sinks her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. She's still smiling— just the faded shadow of a smile, now that he takes a better look at her.

"How's your wound?"

It sounds a lot less plain than he expected.

She hasn't moved towards him any further, and for now she's not showing any hints at wanting to. In her irises, Ezra recognizes thumping stars and cerulean clouds, all clustered in the black circle cut by the large porthole next to his bed. All before catching the thin mist veiling them. As if she did want to reach those stars, let herself get carried away by those streams of bluish dust, but she had no idea how or what to do there.

He looks down, the borders of the bandages over his abdomen slightly raised under his black short-sleeved tee. He clears his throat.

"S'healin' nicely", he says, with a deliberate lightheartedness that costs him a sharp, bizarre inflection in his voice. He closes his eyes soon after, tilting his head condescendingly. "That's how the nurse feels about it, anyway... S'not like I can feel much more right now."

This reminds him of those vacuous moments between brief, chaotic waking states and delirious dreams. When he'd managed to reconnect some essential key points scattered around in the talks of surgeons and nurses; the weariness he felt from simply gathering he was on a space station due to enter the orbit of Mesos in three cycles and something standard hours. All while his only solid reference point – the only indisputable proof he was still alive – was the sequence of beeps chirped by the medical monitor perched nearby. Constant, not monotonous. Friendly, even. Sometimes, he actually comes to miss it.

"A trust fall to the extreme, I'd guess", he snorts, a sly laugh as weak and heavy as the words trudging out of his mouth. As the whole rest of him.

Whatever answer she's considering, Cee freezes it in a quick purse of her lips – maybe a nod, but for his own good he'd rather be doubtful. Then she starts looking around.

There's a chair under the board firmly anchored to the opposite wall – probably a desk or something he's never needed to test, whatsoever. She grabs it and puts it next to his bed. She sits down, bringing her legs to her chest, squeezing them in her arms.

Waiting for what, Ezra has no idea, and he's afraid she doesn't have any, either.

He doesn't speak, though, nor does he encourage her to do the same. Her pearly gaze roams steadily but unhurriedly from him to somewhere beyond him, her nose buried in the gap between her knees. He studies her carefully, two purple crescents above her cheeks, a few hair strands swinging down her face without her wiping them out. The nights she's slept through haven't been any more peaceful than his.

Trust, he recalls in the meantime.

It sure brings an odd taste to his mouth. Something close to sweaty spacesuits, grimy paths and gone-off ration bars. A single word for two human beings forced to share the same air filter for days; that, and the image of a dead body left to rot miles behind and the desperate commitment not to end up in the same way.

His gaze just happens to trip over his right side, taking in the deflated sleeve over the emptiness that saved his life. When he lifts it back to the girl, meeting her eyes just before they can flutter away, he realizes they were both looking at the same spot. And he realizes something else— something he's already understood, yet not quite.

There is no tube binding them now.

"Why d'you do it?", he mumbles a split second later, almost like somehow the thread of his question has immediately knotted to the one of his previous thought.

He huffs. He shouldn't even have asked her, in all honesty. Seeing her like this, at least he should have put it in another way, danced around it, it's not like he’s never been good at stalling, after all—

"Comin' back", Ezra says instead, and when he swallows, he mainly does it to send his heart back down his throat. If he'd died without being given the last chance to be this straightforward on this matter, he would have probably kicked his ass all the way to the other side. 

This time, Cee doesn't avoid his gaze. He shouldn't be surprised by how collected she looks, given the calmness she handled his infected arm with and then told him about when she used to slip into Jata Bhalu carcasses. But he can't help it when he thinks she can't be much older now than what she was then.

He watches her breathing in, wobbling her pupils here and there, seemingly considering his words. She's not afraid, not any more than what she seemed to be when she walked into his room. Maybe she's just better than him at playing pretend – but this, he can't tell whether it's more of a good than a bad thing. Especially for her.

One thing he can tell is that she's not the same girl who pointed a trembling gun at him before running away into the woods. He knows she's not afraid.

He knows...

So is it the hunter's instinct he has to blame if he feels she is?

"Guess I've seen too much death on that forsaken moon to just... turn my back on one I can help– one I can do something about."

If he was standing in front of an entire mountain crumbling down into the ocean, he wouldn't hear its sound. ‘Wouldn't even be the worst he deserves. She did hesitate before adding the last few words, but Ezra refuses to believe she did that because she was afraid of hurting him. He may be a wretch, but not a fool.

Kevva, for a man who's always managed to untwist himself from far tougher situations with the tangles of his tongue alone, he's sure having a deal of trouble – and he wishes he could put all the blame on his current physical condition.

There is no word he doesn't have to weigh carefully now, to prevent it from taking too sharp edges once out of his lips. He may float around it forever. But once he's let her go without saying anything, he'll hardly find the courage to look within himself again, more than after any other job that hardened his hands with calluses and tarnished his eyes with blood.

He doesn't know for sure. In fact, everything he was sure to know – about the turning direction of the universe and the one of the wheels in his head – has already collapsed in front of him, tracing a flaming tail. An unforgiving meteor following a trajectory far beyond his grasp.

He just knows silence scares him, in a way that a wrong word will never do again. It terrifies him. More than as a talkative person, as a castaway on a hostile moon for too many cycles to keep their count – with the only company of a mute. Silence is green; the green of the most poisonous pollen, lethal in his brain just like toxic spores enveloped in his lungs. The green of snake scales ready to stand and scratch his flesh until liquid crimson pours out of it.

And at the end of the day, this is the only fucking thing he can tell himself to know without having his guts churning and chest heaving a beat later.

"Stop looking at me like that."

It's more of an exhausted prayer than an annoyed remark. Ezra blinks, stunned by the sudden return from the shapeless stream of his thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like you're looking for the words to thank me", Cee settles back into her chair and this time she lets one leg touch the floor, "Tell me you owe me, and you– you're sorry about what you did."

Ezra sniffles. "Would it be bad?" 

"No, it—". She closes her eyes for a moment, clenching her jaw. "Just no good", she breathes out, calmer.

And the discordant note in those words conjures up ghosts not yet vague enough for Ezra to be able to tolerate them without something twinging inside him— like a violent flutter of wings. Voices groping their way up ravels of compromises. Damon, deep in the forest. Himself, with the mercenaries in the Queen's Lair. Cee, days before that. After he—

She's right— those words she hasn't said yet, but whose shadow he feels looming every time he catches her wetting her lips.

Some things just can't be split evenly.

"This is not the Green", she states, suddenly more confident but no less exhausted. "If you're going to hang around just because you need to, once we reach Mesos¹ you'd better be on your way."

Ezra doesn't interrupt her. A faded echo starts making its way into his ears. A former prospecting partner, many years ago. An easy job on a forgettable Fringe moon.

Gems don't have an expiration date. Deals do. Strike 'em if you need to, get rid of them as soon as you can. Unless you care to dig a quicker way to your grave.

He didn't pay attention to it, then. He'd thought it was just the empty rhetoric prospectors drop absentmindedly to fill the time between an unrewarding digging and the next. All the more so under the rickety advice of a couple too many.

His eyes still wide open, hands shaky, he merely reciprocated the awkward bottle lift of his partner, whom he didn't know more than the meanders of that quarry. A toast to a faceless future – a nothingness still more reassuring than what was all around and behind them. Not to the darkness of the cave, basically unbreakable if only for the red halo thrown by the twinkles of sharp, sinister Prystines². Not even to the two poor bastards that had set out with them, ending up skewered a few hundred paces behind – one by mistake, the other to return the favor of saving him from the clutches of a furious Aiu³.

Like an idiot.

Several contracts later preventing him from missing a beat in front of similar hiccups, the logic of that statement no longer sounds so absurd to Ezra. Luckily for him, Cee understood it long before him.

"I was just lookin' for the words to tell ya you'll be better off without me—"

Half a truth. Half a heartbeat. After all, she isn't the only one of them who knows how to sell it.

He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes half-closed, a sly grin baring a couple of his upper teeth. It would almost be intimidating, except that the glint hitting them doesn't quite match the dying one in his eyes.

"—But you beat me to it", he finishes, and he sounds like he's about to fall asleep.

He slowly turns his head away, looks through the porthole. His gaze clutches to the passing asteroids outside, distant nebulae spraying the sidereal black with hues of purple, blue, red— then green, again. A climbing plant squeezing him from the inside, discomfort starts creeping on him an inch of his body – what's left of it – at a time.

He doesn't want her to think he's angry at her, and it's the only concrete foothold emerging from the fluid, magmatic chaos in his mind.

How could he be, when she came back to get him?

She didn't have to.

She doesn't have to be here, either...

"I'm sorry", she suddenly blurts out.

He meets her eyes again, a mix of bewilderment and disapproval shading his own. He shakes his head.

"Don't."

"I just—". She starts fiddling with the extra fabric created by the folds of her sweatpants. Then she sighs deeply. "I have no idea what I'm gonna do now."

He snorts. "Not that it's s'pposed to make you feel any better, but... neither do I."

He doesn't have a hazy helmet choking the glimmer in his eyes, an air filter breaking some frequencies in his voice— maybe just those making him sound sincere, while saving those trapping him into the swamp of self-loathing.

He was nothing but honest when he told her the rules of the game on the Green. When he openly admitted he was a killer, and when he assured her he wouldn't trade her for the Sater's Aurelac. And she's always seemed to believe him, maybe for that kind of desperate inertia that washes over people when they need something to cling to. Whatever the case, Ezra can only hope she wants to believe him now. But she doesn't speak, and for a moment his fear of not saying enough overcomes that of crossing her boundaries.

"But w—", he immediately bites his tongue, "—you still have three cycles to figure things out. Someone up here will be able to help you. Even so, please know you'll always have my most sincere gratitude."

The effort of lining up all those words and so few pauses to catch his breath casts a thick fog over his ears. His eyes suddenly hurt again and he finds himself squinting.

What happens next, he just records it, hardly managing to follow each cause-effect relationship. A series of events softly raining on him without making a noise, while he can quite imagine them to be way more prolonged in time. Cee leaning towards the lighting panel on the wall, sliding her finger counterclockwise, and the white coating the walls turning less painfully bright; her getting up, walking away, dwelling just before the door. "I'll come to check on you tomorrow", she says, sniffling.

She tilts her head, holding his gaze in her watery one for an agonizingly slow while – Please, don't ask me why.

He blinks once – Of course.

Then, the automatic door is once again engulfed by the wall, closing behind her with a metallic rustle.

Tomorrow.

His heart is taken by a spiraling jolt that leaves an empty cave behind. When it falls back into place, Ezra finds something has tripped in there, shapeless and quivering like the nucleus of a newborn star.

Hope, terror and everything that lies in between. 

___________________

NOTES:

1) Mesos — Invented planet. Its only raison d'être is that "mésos" in Greek means "middle" and my intent was to frame this story in a moment of transition (after those of movies) for both Ezra and Cee. 2) Prystines — Invented kind of crystals. They're implied to be huge, red and very sharp, thus endangering the path through the cave. 3) Aiu — Invented predator, ideally a big feline.

A/N:

Yeah, uhm... at this point, if someone was ever to give me any kind of feedback, constructive criticism or random thought, I think I'd just melt into a puddle for the attention alone. And to all those who came all the way down here, your bravery shall not be forgotten. ♥️✨

In my defense, it's (almost) all P**** P*****'s fault & of his habit of taking orphans under his wing from one planet to another.

I know people in the fandom generally tend to make Ezra and Cee go along straight away after the movie, so this will be a slightly different take on things, I guess... But even if I don't know if I'll keep this series going atm (life & maturity exam suck), a final reconciliation is definitely on the way. ;)

Oh, and any beta reader that should feel like helping me out for when I'll have the next chapters ready is warmly welcomed! My DMs are always open and I swear I don't bite! :3

[silverloreley]

What a delusion...

I was cautiously optimistic about Wandavision before it came out. I thought it could lead me to reconnect a bit with the MCU (I intentionally skipped a lot of movies and disliked every one I saw after AoU, with a small exception for Black Panther and Dr Strange, not to mention I never finished Endgame, so...).

Dear, I was wrong.

I started watching it with some interest after seeing the trailer on tv, I have been a long-time fan of Bewitched and I hoped for something on that line, a lighthearted fantasy Wanda concocted to deal with the loss, only for someone to get in and help her get out of it and cope in a more reasonable way because they needed her or something, or maybe because she was an Avenger who went missing and people wondered what happened to her and if what she was doing could be dangerous (a reasonable belief, I may add, given her precedents...), a thing like that. And it sort of was like that, except it wasn’t?

And, okay, I was biased from my own high expectations, I wished for things that weren’t there and Marvel would have never given me (full and well-thought plot, emotions, exploration of magic in the MCU and so forth), but I didn’t think they could mess up so bad. The finale in particular was a train wreck.

Why introduce new characters (and bring back Darcy) if they are of no consequence in the final showdown? I guess they needed to introduce White Vision (even though I can’t fathom why...) plus make an origin story for the powers of Monica (to whom I had no prior attachment since I didn’t see Captain Marvel but I grew quickly fond of her here), but what else? We didn’t get to see her abilities or her coming to terms with them (which would have been great and possible if she had been introduced to the plot earlier) or anything. Nor it made me hope to see her again because I am back to be uninterested in anything Marvel after this mess. The fact they gave us the twins only to take them away like that and in the after credits make them call for mom made me irrationally angry on top of the rest. I won’t even mention the whole Quicksilver matter because it was plain stupid to cause all that hype for nothing.

I don’t really understand how could they ruin it so badly, especially after how good ep8 had been in comparison to the rest. Meh.

To cite @lucianalight, how can we consider Wanda a hero after that? Even leaving out what she did before (she was pardoned for her AoU actions by joining the Avengers and fixing what she’s done as much as she could and we don’t know how many lives she saved before CW happened, so I give her the benefit of doubt that she redeemed herself a bit there), but now we saw she kept the town trapped even after she realized what she did! Agatha may have wanted to take her powers but she had a point in saying “heroes don’t torture”, and then what did Wanda do afterwards? Condamned Agatha, who could have been a great teacher to her, maybe a good friend in due time, to live a shallow life as a brainwashed dimwit?! WHY? Agatha had a point. Multiple points, if we take the hints the Scarlet Witch would be the one who destroys the Multiverse. In a way, Agatha was trying to prevent that by taking the power she saw, a win-win situation at the expenses of Wanda, I’ll give you that, but ultimately not that villainous.

I guess that what I’m trying to say is: why couldn’t the plot be more coherent with the idea Wanda was a hero AND with the MCU in general?

But, hey, Marvel sucks at anything but special effects and I don’t know why I had hopes for this show. Just like I don’t have any more hopes for the Loki series (which is a pity because I wished so bad for Tom Hiddleston to reprise the role on his own terms with some creativity freedom that could take Loki back to the Shakesperean anti-hero from his early days I love so much, but clearly Marvel doesn’t know what a precious resource they have, blame on them).

(And here I realize I elaborated a rewriting of WandaVision so I’ll put it under a read more because it wasn’t the original point of this post, lol)

Would it have been too hard to make the first episode and half as they were, then introduce Monica as they did but without a whole town hostage and more like, I don’t know, a magic red coocoon the size of the house in the middle of a simple town that alarmed a lot of people? Maybe with people being sucked in for a few hours from time to time and with no memories of it, except for the transmission of the “episodes” on a magically appeared channel in the town’s tv.

And then Monica, who tried to get in and was sent out, would recognize Agatha as someone from “outside” too and try to figure out what was going on. Cue Monica and Agatha both trying to “wake” Wanda each in their own way but Monica, who understands Wanda’s grief a little better than Agatha, would be the one to breach out Wanda’s on a feelings-level while Agatha, being more interested in Wanda’s powers would try to see the full extent of them.

Here I had two ideas: Agatha is a gray-character who just wants to study another witch, maybe to figure her out or to have a student after centuries alone. Or Villain Agatha who wants to unleash chaos magic to the greatest extend possible to get her own gain, maybe to exploit the twins who were spawned from pure magic, or, as it was speculated, she’s allied with Mephisto who wants the kids for his own nefarious scheme.

Either way, Wanda has to face Agatha. First scenario: Agatha realizes Wanda is the Scarlet Witch and offers to teach her a proper way of magic, perhaps to avoid the destruction of the Universe the Darkholme (I hope I got the name right) predicts, with Monica, who is finding her own powers and dealt with her grief along with Wanda, convinces Wanda it’s a good idea. Second case: Agatha kidnaps the boys and sends them to Mephisto, Wanda and Monica fight her but the boys are lost in the Multiverse and Wanda has to teach herself magic to find them again.

About Vision, the fact he was an illusion and Wanda didn’t steal the corpse to revive it was the only good point of the plot, their goodbye was very emotional and I liked it enough to think it could have stayed the same, but the boys were born through Chaos magic so they woulndn’t disappear. In the grey!Agatha scenario, they would stay with Wanda in the cottage while she learns magic (we could have had a cool scene with her playing with the kids while her astral projection studies magic, like in the post-credit scene), only to be kidnapped mysteriously when she turns for a second.

And maybe my take shows I would have liked more friendship between Wanda and Monica, and maybe I think Agnes’ potential and all the implication of her very existence were wasted, maybe I would have given people the cameo we were expecting with Strange showing up at the cottage with a “you need to learn things properly if you want to save your kids and not destroy the multiverse by accident”, and so on.

[jiikyu]

Taste of Marigolds In Bloom

Herb of the Sun — Or Marigold was often used during the Middle Ages as a love charm. Carrying one of these brightly colored flowers was thought to bring love.

Though be warned for they are also poisonous.

Chapter II. Fate has lead you down a path of hardships, you should be grateful to have found someone so faithful to stay by your side.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

All characters are 18+

Yandere!Mirio x Fem!Reader(AΩβ)

Y/N = Your Name

F/N = Your Full Name

E/C = Eye Color

H/C = Hair Color

Warnings: Yandere / Unhealthy Behavior / Delusions

First Chapter Here❦ Next Chapter Here❦

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

Turning the last page ends as another disappointment.

The blank sheet staring back at Mirio leaves a seed of uneasiness to sow and grow. He ignores it. Instead blue eyes fall to the soft glow of the clock on the nightstand of his bedroom. The digital numbers a leering reminder that he should be asleep.

2:34 AM

The Alpha nonchalantly flips the book to a close, letting the pages flutter together softly before falling shut. Pushing the U.A. Yearbook aside a tired sigh leaves him as he leans across the surface of the desk, scarred forearms resting against the cool polished wood. Mirio had been unsuccessful at finding you amongst the pictures of the past.

And he had been so eager too.

The way back to the hero dorms the blond all but shouts a rapid ‘Hello’ followed in-session by a ‘See you later!’ to a rather startled Tamaki. Once home, Mirio rummages through the back of his closet for the albums and — Nothing. It just really put a damper on his mood.

He just wanted to see your smile.

Only a handful of hours have passed since your meeting and, well... He hadn’t quite been the same since. The light flutter of his heart had yet to cease.

Even as he told Aizawa about the incident with Eri it just wouldn’t stop beating.

Mirio kind of hopes it never does.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

A week.

A full week drags by without Mirio catching so much as a glimpse of you. But it’s okay, it would take a lot more then a measly few days to shake his faith.

And when it does finally happen, oh boy, is he stopped dead in his tracks. Deep pools of blue glue to you the moment you fall into his peripheral vision.

To Mirio — When the butterfly kisses return they only validate the swirl of thoughts and emotions that have refused to leave him since your meeting. Swarming his chest just as they had when he first saw you. Protecting Eri. Wings knocking against his ribs in a sickly sweet kind of way.

Thoughts that maybe, just maybe, the two of you had been meant to cross paths.

He spots you seated in a corner of the open U.A. library. Seated by a window the sun bathes your H/C locks in a warm glow, deep into a textbook with a scribble filled notebook by your side. So preoccupied you don’t even notice his staring. It’s all becoming very clear to him how important your studies — How important heroism is to you.

To someone of the untrained eye it probably wouldn’t have been obvious, but he takes notice. Had seen the way you, a small quirkless Omega, protected Eri... Something about it all had stolen his breath away.

But it hadn’t ended at that.

A single tear.

Never before has Mirio been overtaken with the desire to sweep someone off their feet. Never before has he been consumed by the need to run his thumb over someones cheek, catching any tears that dare to spill further. Instead, the Alpha did the only other thing he could’ve, used his scent to calm an Omega. And you had responded.

All of this has been on loop in his head for the past week and here you were sitting alone in the study, in the flesh.

There’s no time to waste, he’s wasted so much already.

“Y/N!”

When your eyes leave the block of text you had been oh so concentrated on you’re met with warm oceanic irises.

“Mirio-?”

You barely have time to register the blur of a waving hand before you realize the blond has already taken the unoccupied seat to your left. He’s fast!

You probably look dumbfounded, E/C eyes wide but you’re quick to collect yourself. But actually, you’re happy to see the enthusiastic blond again.

“I was wondering if I would get see you again, this school is enormous.” His voice is just as lively as you remember and that signature aroma of ocean with the faintest hint of citrus reaches you again.

It’s oddly welcoming.

“Yeah it’s a maze here, I’m still getting used to it myself.” You’re ashamed to admit that you’ve gotten lost more than once already.

“You know, Eri told me how nice you had been to her. Just the other day she asked me if I had seen you at school.” You notice a change in his expression, the smile never leaves him, it’s so slight you’re not even sure it happened at all. “She’s awfully shy and for good reason, the poor girl has been through more than most. So she struggles to open up with people but, I guess she really took a liking to you and I just want to emphasize how important that is.”

And how much that means to me.

The image of timid Eri asking about you is enough to melt your heart and the fact that you were able to leave an impression sends you over the moon. And it shows when a shaky warm smile overtakes you. “Thank you for telling me. Please tell her I said hi, that she’s very brave and that — I miss her too.”

Your smile has Mirios heart doing flips and he has to remind himself to take a breath. If his head wasn’t screwed on he’d probably lose it!

“Don’t worry, you can trust me to pass on the message.” The chuckle that escapes the Alpha rumbles in his chest, large hand running through his sunshine blond locks when he says. “Hey who knows, maybe one day you’ll see her again and you can tell her yourself.”

“Yeah maybe.”

“Wait — Come to think of it, what grade are you in Y/N?”

You pause from your thoughts. “Senior, why?”

“Senior? I’m just surprised is all, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on campus before.” Or the acceptable way of saying: You’re not in any of his yearbooks.

“Oh, that’s because I transferred from Tagara this year.”

Ah. Of course! It clicks and he wants to scold himself at his own foolishness.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why the sudden transfer? You know, since this is your last year.” Mirios voice is one of genuine curiosity.

...

You fidget with the pencil at your fingertips, unsure how to answer. The conversations between the two of you so far have only been positive experiences. You might even go as far to say that his words have helped uproot some of your insecurities, though the roots are dug deep and no one single conversation could ever undue the years of self doubt tying you down.

But this man, who radiates like a beacon of hope, is someone you could see yourself trusting — And before you know it the words you were unable to find escape on their own accord.

“To be honest U.A. has always been my dream school. I knew I never stood a chance without a quirk... But every year I would submit a request for a transfer and every year it would be declined.” You’re not sure what it is that compels you to open up with someone you would basically consider a stranger. Maybe it’s the dusty library air getting to you or maybe it’s the way Mirio looks at you with complete and utter focus.

You’re not sure.

“Then they opened up a business course that was attainable for people like me.” You remember opening up the letter and the tears of happiness that blurred your vision. Even now, sitting in the U.A. Library it’s still so unreal.

“It’s cheesy but... I like to think it was fate that sent me that Acceptance Letter.” One last shot at a dream.

Fate.

Mirio’s starting to believe it was fate as well.

“I think so too.”

His words break you yet again.

This time you’re not surprised to see that sincere smile, when you’re so used to facing judgment.

Mirio has yet to falter. Not once.

And your pulse drums loudly against your ears for reasons other than fear.

∘◦ ✿ ◦∘

One day you just sort of realize it.

That with Mirio around life feels a lot more fast-paced. It’s a speed you haven’t quite adjusted to yet, but if you’re being honest with yourself it’s a change that is growing on you. Growing on you fast as weeds.

Maybe that was just a side effect of being around someone so earnest and gentle.

After the first time you two ran into each other you had exchanged numbers and slowly but surely Mirio was becoming a constant in your life.

You had learned a lot about him.

One very key thing being that he had his quirk stolen.

[nevtelenwriting]

You Can Be a Hero

Gen: Shinsou Hitoshi & Dadzawa Aizawa

Rating: Teen?

Just a one-shot that’s part headcanon, part of a longer character-study fic I’m fiddling with for my favorite goth son Shinsou (one sided pining after Aizawa if you squint, Shinsou you poor disaster gay)

How Shinsou started training with Aizawa

--

“You were good at the festival.”

Shinsou nearly trips over himself in surprise. He’d been on his way home for the day, head down and ignoring yet another long series of meaningful looks from his schoolmates down the hallway. Being in a school of people with the best of the best of quirks meant less looked at him with fear; though not all. At this point it was just aggravating, a tired rhetoric he’d spent his school years shrugging off.

However, those days following the festival he’d noticed an uptick of people seeing his power as less…villainous. No one called it good yet, though. That was fine. He knew he had an uphill battle to fight, he’d known ever since this quirk manifested.

Shinsou never expected a hero to scout after him, not while he was still in General and a first year, so hearing the low timbre of Eraserhead behind him just about made him swallow his tongue in shock.

Shinsou whips around on his heel to look dead at the greatest role model he’s ever known, leaning casually against the outside wall of Shinsou's homeroom. He’s never been this close to Eraserhead despite being in the same school. He's larger than life itself, both as casual looking as a man could be yet swallowed by an air of competency and intimidation. Thankfully those awful bandages were gone from the infamous attack at USJ. He appeared fully recovered from an attack that would have killed any hero lesser than Eraserhead.

Shinsou knows what Eraserhead was capable of. Everyone else idolizes All Might--not that Shinsou didn't also see his goodness--but Shinsou’s idol has always been Eraserhead.

Another reason he resents the kids in class 1-A; they had the incomparable gift of having the greatest underground hero of all time teaching them, and no one seemed to notice or care. He doubts any of them even knew without being told who Aizawa was.

Aizawa stares at him levelly, not betraying any reaction as he mused, “Didn’t expect you to be someone easily snuck up on.”

“What can I say,” Shinsou retorts quickly, more reflex than anything, “I guess I’m not as good as the best stealth hero in the world.”

“Japan, sure,” Aizawa replies just as effortless, and if he could see his mouth beyond his capture scarf Shinsou thought he might be smirking, “Not sure about the whole world.”

Shinsou’s convinced now he’s dreaming, because there is no way in any universe he’s quipping with his idol. Shinsou isn’t that lucky, he’s not blessed.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, regards Eraserhead quietly. He goes back to that first jarring statement as he mutters, “You don’t have to say that. I wasn’t good enough to advance.”

“No, you weren’t.” Aizawa agrees, neither condescending nor placating. “Your grasp on your quirk is rudimentary, but decent. I doubt you’ve had any formal training?”

“Not a lot of people signing up to help the guy that can make you stand on your head,” Shinsou drawls, a level of bitterness in his words.

“So you use your quirk whenever you please then.” Aizawa says softly, also matter-of-fact, no hint of condemnation but also no question about it. “You know that’s against school rules.”

Shinsou grimaces but doesn’t reply. He wouldn’t apologize for using his quirk. He had to practice, and he never made anyone do anything bad. It was easier to be left alone when he could get people to do it himself, and he also needed to learn how to strength his abilities if he ever hoped to succeed.

“I don’t need a lecture,” Shinsou finally decides on. “If I plan on joining your course I need to take what I can get.”

“I’m not here to lecture.”

“Then you’re here to feel sorry for me.” Shinsou says flatly, albeit a little too quickly.

Aizawa stares at him, too quiet, and Shinsou hates how he’s talked to him. Aizawa probably thinks he’s petulant, ungrateful for the sparse moments he’s been granted here just being acknowledged by his hero.

“You’re very careful about closed-ended statements. Usually you use open-ended ones.”

Shinsou nearly flinches. No one had ever caught that before. The thing was his quirk wasn’t activated by questions, specifically, but responses to his statements. He couldn’t explain what it was, but he could feel the difference in the way he phrased his words, how some statements opened his mind and left room for the invisible tendrils reaching out, ready to latch onto the first to bite down and pull them in. Questions were the easiest way to create that space, and that’s how he wrote out the trigger for his quirk on paper. It meant that people only hesitated when they heard the lilt of a question his voice. Had Aizawa figured out it wasn’t so literal?

Shinsou would usually feign ignorance here. He’d remark how strange that was, but this is Aizawa. He deserved the respect of his honesty.

“I didn’t want you to worry about talking to me.”

Aizawa absorbs this, brows twitching a little together as he considers the weight of that awfully vulnerable admission. Shinsou wishes he could take it back the moment it left his mouth.

“That doesn’t concern me. I doubt you’d abuse your quirk that way.”

Shinsou stares at him, loss for words and at a loss for why Eraserhead was wasting his time with him here. If he doesn’t care, then…

“So why are you here?” Shinsou asks, testing the waters in more than one way.

Aizawa doesn’t hesitate, “I wanted to talk to you about your courses. Come with me for a moment.”

Shinsou almost balks, but Aizawa has already pushed away from the wall, hands in his pockets as he meanders down the hall. Shinsou follows after him.

“Your quirk could have many applications in pro work, but the best is obviously apprehension and de-escalation. How complex of an action can you make someone do?” Aizawa fills the silence as they walk to the Hero classes wing, and Shinsou is again, jarringly, lost for words. He’s always been articulate, and he supposes that it was necessary for his quirk to work. He was still in shock Aizawa was talking to him, though, asking him about his abilities, that his head still reeled on why instead of answering his logical questions.

“Um,” Shinsou starts eloquently, “Not really anything complex. Simple actions, one at a time. Like making someone start or stop something.”

“Time limit?”

“Not sure.”

“Longest control then.”

Shinsou scratches his cheek, “Longest so far has been the cavalry battle. But I was able to actively keep renewing the hold whenever I gave new directions.”

“I see. What about distance?”

“Distance effects it, but I don’t know exactly. I can feel the hold strain when someone gets further away from me.”

“So you really haven’t tested limits yet.”

Shinsou frowns at the back of Aizawa’s mussy black hair. He’s hunched over a little, but still taller than Shinsou, with broader shoulders. He clears his throat.

“Again, don’t have volunteers lining up to dance like a monkey, you know?” Shinsou offers, another open-ended statement, and maybe a bit of a test. Aizawa couldn’t erase his quirk with his back turned.  

He did sometimes have volunteers, but less dance like a monkey and more, well…fetishistic. Which was great, because he was fucking fifteen and barely thinking about anything like that yet, let alone something so…controlling. Shinsou grimaces to himself.

Aizawa chuckles, “Actually, I do.”

Shinsou doesn’t have a reply to that as they reach his classroom. He gestures to one of the seats but Shinsou doesn’t take it. Aizawa leans against his podium instead, head in his hand regarding him with those tired eyes.

Shinsou takes in the classroom and tastes the little bit of that resentment again. It’s nothing remarkable, looks exactly the same as his own homeroom, but the fact he’s here, so near yet so far, makes his chest clench with anger. He wants to be here so desperately but everything was working again him. It’s not the first time he’s been tempted to try his luck at another school, but distance, cost, and no guarantee he’d succeed there either, kept him here. 

As if reading his mind, though it wasn’t hard to read his face Shinsou was sure, Aizawa asks, “Do you still want to be in a hero course?”

Shinsou answers immediately, “More than anything.”

“Hm.” Aizawa looks him up and down, then says, “Even if we did make concessions about your quirk, you’d never pass a physical. Heroes need to have more than one trick, and you’re useless against robots, a natural disaster, and multiple villains at once.”

Shinsou bristled, hands shoving into his pockets and mutters, “Why did you bring me here? This feels an awful lot like you’re rubbing what I can’t have into my nose.”

“I don’t do that. I’m telling you why you’re not here, and what you need to fix if you want a chance of getting in.”

“This school doesn’t care,” Shinsou snaps, “Doesn’t matter how good my quirk is.”

“Which is why you’ll need to work harder,” Aizawa explains, no room for further argument. “It’s not fair, but you need to make yourself irreplaceable. So here’s what we’re going to do. Work with me the next few days. Let me assess where you’re at and how to make you hero-course worthy.”

Shinsou process that slowly. Pieces together that blatant implication. Realizes that Eraserhead isn’t kidding.

“Wait, you…are you joking?” He has to ask, because it’s impossible he means it.

“I don’t joke.”

Shinsou nearly sputters out, “You want to train me?”

Aizawa arches a brow, “Assess, I said. See if you’ve got enough potential. Then yes, if all goes well, I want to train you. I feel our styles would match well, so it’s only logical to pass on what I know to someone who is like me. We need more heroes that don’t rely on self-focused quirks.”

Aizawa explains it practically, matter-of-fact as if there weren’t a million obstacles in the way, a million ways Shinsou could fail--or worse, fail him.

Shinsou swallows hard, “And you think that can be me?”

“Of course,” Aizawa says flatly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Shinsou thinks he might have died. There’s no way his idol, his role-model, the one person who made him believe he could be a hero, was looking at him like this, seeing his potential, his worth, his ability to do good, and decided he was worth the time and energy.

Logistics win out in favor of the shock, or worse, the vain hope that Eraserhead was serious.

“How? You have a class.”

“They’re on internships starting tomorrow.” Aizawa straightens up, fishes out set of paperwork. He hands it over to Shinsou to read. At the top states “Internship Application”. Aizawa keeps talking while he gawks at the form.

“If you’re fine with it, I’ll talk with your teachers and give you a pass on your classes for the next three days. You’ll be entering the hero course late, so you’ll have a lot of catching up to do. First-year internships are among them. So I’ll take you on under my agency, and you intern with me for the next three days. It’s one less thing to worry about, and I get to assess your limitations and potential.”

Shinsou’s jaw has definitely droped, and Aizawa has a lilt of humor in his voice this time when he says, “You’ll catch flies that way.”

Shinsou snaps his jaw shut. He swallows, and asks, finally, the question that’s been burning since Eraserhead first told him he did good at the festival.

“Why?”

Aizawa blinks, “Why?”

“Yeah, why.” Shinsou gains a little more strength, “Why me? Why bother? You have twenty potential heroes in your class. I’m in General, you said yourself I’m weak. I have little hope of getting in without a lot of time and a lot of effort. So why the hell are you bothering?”

Aizawa scoffs, studying him with narrowed eyes that promptly shuts Shinsou up. He should have bitten his tongue. He should have been grateful.

But nothing has ever come easy for Shinsou. There was always another shoe waiting to drop, the bad to every moment of good. No one saw Shinsou’s potential, not to being a hero. People saw him as villainous, terrifying, avoided at all costs. Even those heroes at the sports festival could do nothing against UA’s requirements. So why was Aizawa bothering? What did Aizawa want from him? Nothing came without a cost, Shinsou knew this, and he had to understand before diving too deep into a too-good-to-be-true fantasy.

“You think you’re the first person that had to fight to get here? The first one people called villain?” Aizawa arches a brow, the weight of those words sitting heavy in the room.

Shinsou stares at him with slowly widening eyes, and realizes. Understands.

“You?”

Aizawa sighs and rubs at his eye, the one with the scar and Shinsou wonders about the damage there. “Yeah, me. I was in General first, too. Got a hell of a quirk for a villain too, don’t I? Could screw with All Might himself. The tests were different back then though, I was able to sign away a lot more of the limitations so I could get in. Tests are harder now, which means they’ve become more unfair to those that deserve to be here. So that means we need to bend the rules.”

Shinsou snaps his hanging mouth shut. He should have realized it, but…but the shock is warring with the realization that Aizawa, Eraserhead, understands him. He’d been here beside him, called a villain, fought to be a hero. He wasn’t alone. God, he wasn’t fucking alone.

Shinsou is still swallowing back the vibration in his chest that Eraserhead thinks he deserves to be here when he catches up on what he’s been saying.

God, he refuses to fucking cry.

“You think I can be a hero?” Shinsou asks, and it sounds so stupid, so small, so much like when he’d asked his parents back when things were happy.

Aizawa watches him intensely, and says, “Absolutely. So. See you here tomorrow?”

Shinsou nods vigorously, and Aizawa’s eyes crinkle in the corners with a hidden smile.

“Good. Get rest, you’re in for a long three days.”

Fuck, Shinsou couldn’t wait.

[winryofresembool]

Caleo fic: It’s all about the name

Chapter 6 (aka final ch)

Summary: Calypso is a barista at a coffee shop and one day she gets a customer who refuses to give her his real name. At first he seems really annoying but eventually Calypso finds out not all is what it looks like on the surface. (Coffee shop AU!)

a/n: Woop, finally it's time to finish this fic! It took way longer than I anticipated but hey, I'm still pretty happy I did it.

Thank you once again everyone who has supported me both here and on ao3, and special thanks goes to @caldez for the headcanons because without you this fic wouldn't exist!

Once more, I hope you guys enjoy, and please leave a comment if you like this! And keep your eyes open for a twlitf update soon enough because I am continuing to work on it again tomorrow! I've missed that universe a lot.

Words: 1700+

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: some slight *ahem* implications (just implications though)

previous chapter / AO3

...

A few weeks later, Leo was leaning against the familiar counter again while he was watching Calypso work. For once he didn’t interrupt her, instead quietly waiting for her to stop her work for the day so he could tell her what he had in his mind. Well, not entirely quietly; his fingers were tapping impatiently against the smooth surface, and eventually Calypso decided that she needed to ask him to stop because she could see some of the other customers giving him dirty looks. Not that she could call him a customer anymore; after the day when Leo had finally revealed his name and she had asked him out, they had been on several dates and things were going pretty well between them.

At first Calypso had been worried that she had been too fast in her decision to ask him out, but after a while she had realized that Leo’s company was exactly what she needed. Not because she /needed/ to have a boyfriend, but because his company made her happy. They could talk about anything and everything between the earth and sky, they had a lot of fun even when they were bickering about whether blueberry cake was better than strawberry cake - which wasn’t a feeling she had known in the past - and most importantly, they understood each other. Both were loners who had some bad experiences with people who were important to them and both were trying to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives. And despite the mischievous surface, Calypso already knew that Leo was someone she could trust to keep his word. She could see it from for example the way he interacted with his work ‘family’ (Calypso had caught Leo calling Georgie his sister the other day when she had quickly dropped by at the garage), how dedicated he was in achieving his goals and how he still showed up at the coffee shop almost every day despite being busy.

“Leonidas,” Calypso had managed to make Leo confess his full first name and now she used it every time she wanted to chastise him. “You may be my boyfriend now…” The b-word made Leo grin widely. “... But I’m still going to have to ask you to try to be quieter because some of our customers don’t like the drumming.”

“Sunshine, not the Leonidas! That’s so cruel,” Leo fake complained. “I was just deep in my thoughts and you know I can’t help it with my random movements while I’m thinking…”

“Fine, then,” Calypso gave in. “What were you thinking?”

“How shiny your hair looks in this light…” Leo said with a low voice.

“Leo… please leave that talk to my off hours,” Calypso scolded him but couldn’t help but blush a bit.

“Okay, Coffee Princess,” he said but suddenly got more serious. “Listen, I do have some actual news for you. I just don’t want to tell it right now that you’re working.”

Calypso checked the clock. “Then you’re going to have to wait maybe 15 more minutes because I still need to take care of a few things once we have closed.”

“No problem. I can wait because Patience is my middle name,” Leo claimed.

“Leonidas Patience Valdez?” Calypso eyed him suspiciously. “Soon you’ll tell me that actually your name is Theophrastus Bombastus or something like that.”

That gave Leo a new idea. “Ooh, should we start a new game? Guess my middle name?” he asked enthusiastically.

“No,” Calypso said immediately. “I think we’ve had enough name games for a while. But maybe some other time.” Her mouth twitched a bit as she said that.

“Oh, alright,” Leo hid his disappointment quickly. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be waiting for you outside once you’re done.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon. And hey, just to be clear: I wouldn’t care even if your name really was Bad Boy Supreme. You’re still my weird but pretty great boyfriend.” Calypso smiled at him before he raised from his spot and waved her a goodbye.

... A bit later, Calypso joined Leo by a car he had recently obtained. It wasn’t the newest or fanciest but Leo had worked hard to make it function and even Jo had admitted he had done a great job with it. After getting the car Leo had taken a habit to drop Calypso to her apartment after her workshift so they had some extra time to talk - and more - which in Calypso’s opinion was a pretty sweet gesture, even if the make out sessions inside the small car sometimes got a little uncomfortable.

“So, what did you want to tell me?” Calypso asked when she was fastening her seatbelt.

“What… what would you say about working at Waystation?” Leo wanted to know, looking at the road instead of her.

“Huh? Cars aren’t exactly my area of expertise,” Calypso noted, wondering where he was going with his question.

“No, I don’t mean the car side,” he responded, shaking his head a little. “You do know that Emmie has a flower shop in the building as well, right? The thing is, she is getting closer to her retirement and an extra hand wouldn’t hurt her. I know you like gardening, and who knows, you might learn a thing or two from her. She knows a /lot/, trust me. You’ve told me you don’t really like it at the coffee shop so when I heard her talking about hiring someone to Jo… I was like, I gotta let Calie know about this.”

“So… did you already tell her I could be interested?” Calypso asked.

“No, because I didn’t know how you would feel about it. I think it’s better if you contact her personally; Emmie isn’t the kind of person who hires someone just because she happens to be her employee’s girlfriend,” Leo stated, and based on the earlier stories Calypso had heard of her, she could easily imagine that he was right.

“Yeah. That makes sense.” Calypso nodded. “I wouldn’t want to be hired for that reason anyway.”

“You already have a lot of experience in customer service and you’re interested in flowers and stuff so I feel like you could have a good chance,” Leo said, glancing at her briefly. “I mean… if you want to, of course! I don’t know for sure…”

“I’d love to!” Calypso exclaimed before Leo had time to finish his sentence. “At this point anything beats making a thousand cups of coffee per day. And, well, I suppose getting to see a certain someone during the breaks would be an added bonus,” she added sneakily. “I will make sure to contact her soon. Thanks for letting me know!”

“You’re welcome,” Leo replied. “I’ll have my thumbs up for you, babe.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t quite all, though,” Leo said after a while. “I’ve told you about my friend Piper, right? Well, she sings in a band and she knows a lot of people who play and study music as well… They have a gig nearby tomorrow evening and as it happens, I’m not working then so if you happen to have time… would you like to go and see them? And maybe we can meet with Piper and the others afterwards? I just thought, you once said you had enjoyed singing and playing but you had to stop… Well, maybe this could be your chance to get reacquainted with music. She could probably give you some tips too.”

“Do you think she would be OK with it? I mean, helping me out?” Calypso inquired.

“Oh, for sure!” Leo reassured her. “To be honest, she has been quite curious about you ever since I told her I have a girlfriend - it’s almost like she doesn’t actually believe I have one - so I bet she’d be excited to meet you.”

“Um, there’s one small thing, though…” Calypso noted. “You know Reyna, my coworker? From what I’ve gathered, she used to have a major crush on a guy named Jason, who coincidentally is now dating a girl named Piper. And I’m quite sure we are talking about the same Piper now because it’s not that common a name. Maybe I should ask Reyna first how she feels about me hanging out with her before I promise anything...”

“Ouch… Yeah, maybe you should. I don’t wanna cause issues between you and your friend.” Leo agreed.

“But hey, thanks for asking.” Calypso briefly lowered her left hand on Leo’s right one that was resting on the gear stick. “I’d like to meet your friends at some point, for sure. And I’ve never been to a concert so I would definitely love to see one!”

“You’ve never been to a concert?” Leo asked, looking surprised.

“No,” Calypso shrugged. “That was another one of those things that was a waste of time according to my father. But hey, there’s no one to stop me now!”

“That’s my girl. And I can promise that if you decide to go, you would have a decent company too.” Leo grinned at her.

“Hmmm… I still need to be convinced about that…” Calypso teased him. She wondered when she had become someone who flirts and jokes but she assumed that was the effect of the ‘Bad Boy Supreme’.

“Oh, I will convince you, alright,” Leo promised. Calypso couldn’t help but blush when she thought about the implications behind his words.

“OK, as long as we make it to my place first.”

A comfortable silence fell between the couple as Calypso took in everything they had just discussed. The more she thought about it, the more clearly she saw what she wanted to do with her future. She’d save money at a place that she was quite positive she would prefer over the coffee shop, hopefully find a way to get reacquainted with music - maybe with Piper’s help, maybe some other way - and eventually start studying whatever she felt passionate about. Maybe certain things would take a while to happen, but she was on the right path, and why would she have to rush anywhere when she had people like Leo by her side?

[jalapeno-princess]

Better Together

Tutor Mark X Reader

Genre: Fluff with a hint of angst

Word count: 5.3k

Summary: You’ve been fooling around with your marine biology tutor for a few months. The two of you have more than friendly feelings for one another but you both are too afraid to confess your love in fear of things not working out. However, when one of Mark’s friends take an interest in you, that’s when the truth comes out.

“You know, for someone who claims to miss me, it’s pretty hard to get a hold of you nowadays.” The fake hurt tone in your best friend’s voice made you giggle, but he was right. It’s been over two weeks since you last saw BamBam and he’s been trying to plan something for the two of you to do for the last week but you’ve always been so busy. It wasn’t like you were avoiding him, you just had so much on your plate from both work and school that you didn’t really have time to be social as of right now. 

“Hey, I said I was sorry about that but you know how I get whenever it comes to my grades. I need at least a 3.8 to get in to the national honor society. Once we go on spring break, I’m all yours.” The two of you were currently drinking coffee at one of your favorite cafes in between class. When you found out your first class had been cancelled, you were quick with reaching out to the older boy and see what he was doing. A smile was quick to rise on your cheeks when he said he was willing to ditch class in order to spend time with you and although you were against skipping a class, you missed your best friend. 

“So, how’s your marine biology class by the way? The last time we talked about it, you had a borderline D. I know you took my advice and went to tutoring for it last semester, I still can’t believe you’re taking another marine biology class this semester after barely passing last semester. It’s like you love putting yourself through stress—or it’s because a certain marine science major just so happens to be tutoring you—don’t look at me like that. I know exactly why you retook that stupid class, it’s because Mark Tuan is the TA. I’m not stupid, there’s no way you went from a D to an A in less than two months by studying alone. You’re probably sucking his dick—Ow! What was that for? I’m totally supportive of you fucking your tutor. Not only do you get good grades, but you get your back blown out too—that’s it. I’m going back to class.” 

When he stood up and began to playfully gather his things, you reached over and took his notebook from his hand while motioning for him to sit back down. “Will you keep it down? The entire coffee shop doesn’t need to know of my business and besides—I’m not sleeping with anybody—well—it’s not what you think. I’m not hooking up with him just to get good grades.” 

BamBam looked at you in curiosity before leaning forward and placing his chin on top of his hands. One thing you both loved and hated about BamBam, was how nosy he could be. He was one of the biggest blabber mouths on campus. If there was a rumor going around campus, you could bet that he was one of the first people to hear about it and to spread it throughout school. Although you enjoyed being in the know with the juiciest drama there was going on at your university, you never wanted to be the next hot topic. Which is why you were afraid of the fact that he was completely aware of your little affair with Mark Tuan. 

“So what exactly are you doing with him then? Are the two of you dating? I feel insulted! We tell each other everything. As your best friend, I would have expected you to tell me that you got in to a relationship and with Mark out of all people. I can’t believe you’ve been blowing me off to waste your time with your boyfriend—“

“He’s not my boyfriend, we’re not dating. Okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but there’s nothing to tell. He’s been tutoring me since last semester, that part is true. But I didn’t sign up for marine 462 just so he could help me out again. I wouldn’t suffer through another science class just to have him tutor me again. I’m taking five classes this semester, remember? On top of working full-time so I’m sorry for being so MIA but I promise when my schedule clears up, we’ll do something.” 

A frustrated sigh fell from your lips before you took a sip of your caramel macchiato. You hated lying to your best friend, especially because like he said; the two of you told each other everything. BamBam informed you on every single thing that went on in his life and for the most part, you did the same. However, your love life was nobody’s business but you and the person you were involved with. As much as you wanted to update BamBam on your relationship status, you didn’t even know what to classify exactly what was going on between you and Mark anyway. 

You were more than just friends, but less than lovers and you couldn’t really consider yourselves friends with benefits either. Sure, the two of you casually hooked up in your free time, but it was more than just sex for you both. Mark was a very shy and soft spoken person to people he wasn’t all too familiar with, but you were one of the few lucky people to know what he was really like. Mark Tuan in more or less words was a very outgoing, patient, kind-hearted, hardworking and surprisingly hilarious individual. 

You loved being around him and you loved the effect he had on you. The older boy never failed to make you laugh and smile with his corny science pick up lines and when the two of you were alone, it seemed as if he always needed to be touching you. However, you had no problem with that. Intimacy was something you really enjoyed. You just didn’t know what to make of the lingering stares and the passionate kisses that happened even when the two of you weren’t having sex. 

There were a few occasions where you had caught Mark staring at you with so much adoration in his eyes; so you knew he had to have some sort of feelings for you. You had a hard time understanding why he had yet to act on it. Both you and the older boy have been at this for almost four months, if he wanted to be with you wouldn’t he have made things official by now? The vibration that came from your phone broke you out of your thoughts and you didn’t even try to stop the grin that grew on your face when you noticed who was trying to get in touch with you.

MT: Hey, are you busy right now? I really want to see you—and maybe kiss a little—okay maybe more than just a little. 3:15 p.m.

You: Never too busy for you. Wanna meet me at my place in fifteen? 3:16 p.m.

You: Just kissing? 3:16 p.m.

MT: Oh no, more. Definitely more. Sounds like a plan. See you soon. 3:17 p.m.

Since you were so deep in your excitement, you failed to witness that BamBam was analyzing your newly delighted expression and a smirk rose on his face when he came to realization of why your cheeks were pink. He was sure that if he were to reach over and place his palm against your face that it would be warm. Even if you told him that there was nothing on between you and Mark, he knew you like the back of his hand. You and BamBam have been friends long enough for him to know that you were interested in someone. 

“Let me guess, lover boy is texting you. He’s asking you to ditch me so that he can rearrange your guts. It’s fine, you can go. Honestly I’d do the same.” 

Your eyes widened at his words and you ripped off a piece of your scone and threw it at his chest. “Asshole. It’s nobody—really. I’m serious. But I do have to leave, I have class in twenty—“

“You and I both know you’re done for the day. There’s no point in lying to me y/n, I know your schedule by heart. Go get some dick, and tell Mark I said hi.” No matter how much of a pain in the ass BamBam could be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t your favorite person. Well, other than the boy who owned your heart. It took you two months to accept it, but you were in love with Mark. 

It wasn’t surprising, most of your time was spent with your charming science tutor. When he wasn’t teaching you or buried balls deep inside of you, the two of you would be doing a lot of domestic things together. You’d find yourself doing things with Mark that most couples would do; watching movies together, baking different desserts that you saw on the food network, allowing him to sit in between your legs as he played video games and there were a couple times he even went grocery shopping with you. He also had a habit of complementing you almost every single day on your looks, your personality, your outfit, your choice in music and your cooking. 

There were times you found yourself contemplating on telling him how you felt, but you were afraid of ruining things one the L word was thrown in there. You made a beeline towards your apartment with the intent of changing your clothes and making yourself a bit more presentable for Mark before he arrived. Although he made it aware that he didn’t really care what you wore only because it would end up on the floor anyway, you couldn’t help but want to look good for him. 

Once you made it inside, you placed your bag on top of the kitchen counter and headed in to your room. As you began looking through your closet, you heard a knock on the door and silently cursed yourself at the thought of Mark already being there. “Just a minute, I’ll be right there.” You threw a pair of shorts and one of Mark’s shirts that he left at your place the last time he slept over. That was another thing that confused you. You and Mark weren’t strangers to sleeping over at each other’s places. Sure, if the two of you hooked up, you’d end up staying the night and vice versa. But there were days he’d ask to hang out and he’d end up staying the night. 

He had quite a few of his things scattered throughout your apartment and from an outsider’s point of view, it would look as if you had a boyfriend. If only that was the case. You took a quick look through the peephole before opening the door and when you saw him, your heart rate increased. As soon as you opened the door, he gave you no time to prepare yourself before he practically threw his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks gently as he licked and sucked on your bottom lip and playfully brought it in between his teeth. He maneuvered the two of you forward so that he could close the door, and quickly deepened the kiss. 

After a few moments of your tongues battling for dominance while his hands roamed around your body, you pulled away to catch your breath and tiptoed so that you could place your forward against his. 

“Hi.” 

He let out a soft giggle and stole a quick kiss from the corner of your mouth. “Hey. I missed you.” You rolled your eyes in disbelief. 

“You saw me last night.” Mark was the only person you have been seeing these days. You were grateful that he was tutoring you and that the two of you had an excuse to meet each other, even if most “tutoring sessions” ended up in sex. The older boy was like a breath of fresh air; your own little hideaway from adulting. Even if he was about to turn twenty-seven years old, he never failed to act like a little kid. 

“Yeah, but that was last night. As much as I really want to take this to the bedroom and find my way in between these pretty thighs of yours, you have a midterm coming up and there’s no way I’m letting you fail.” You released a frustrated sigh and gave him an adorable pout. Mark had the biggest soft spot for you and you knew just how much your cuteness had an effect on him. He would do anything you asked him to, unless it interfered with your education. That was the only time he put anything before getting to love on your body.

“But Mark—you said kissing.” He cupped your cheek and began to caress his thumb right above your Cupid’s bow. “Don’t worry, there will be plenty of kissing. Trust me, I’ve been thinking about these pretty lips all day today. However, you’ll only get a kiss whenever you get a question right.” 

Right as the complaint was about to fall from your lips, Mark smashed his mouth against yours and gave you a rough, sloppy kiss. “I know you’ll do just fine on this test y/n—“

“Then why do we have to study right now? I have a week until the midterm Mark. Making out for a couple of minutes won’t hurt my grade.” His laughter filled the room at your persistence and as much as you were upset with the idea of science, you found yourself laughing along with him. Mark had one of the most contagious, high pitched laughs and it had to be one of your favorite sounds. You did whatever you could to be the reason behind the beautiful noise. 

“I could’ve sworn I was the horny one between us. When did you get so sexually aroused? Not that I’m complaining, I am all for it, it’s extremely sexy—ow! I don’t understand why you’re not rough like this in bed—you’re going to have to study for the exam on your own if you keep this up my little sea urchin.” 

The older boy had a tendency to call you marine animals instead of an actual pet name and you couldn’t help but think that there was a reason behind it. Although there were times he called you baby, whether it was during sex or if it just happened to fall from his lips, he never really used the term with you. You felt that if he were to call you a term of endearment, then your relationship would only get more complicated. 

“Fine! Whatever. But we won’t study for long, I’ve already had a rough day. The last thing I need is to drive myself insane trying to instill information about sea-level rise and coral bleaching in to my brain. And you better be generous with these kisses. None of those pecks from last time.” He beamed at you before getting himself settled down at your dining table and taking out some flash cards he prepared for you. 

“A swell is pure energy. True or false?” You took a few seconds to think hard about the question before responding. 

“True.”

“Nope. It’s false. Come on y/n, that was so easy. I’ll give you a kiss for effort though.” He leaned over and gave you a quick peck before flipping over the next card. “What is the cause of erosion?”

“Soil compaction, low organic matter, loss of soil structure, poor internal drainage, salinisation and soil acidity problems.” He hummed softly before reaching over once against to place another kiss on your lips; a few seconds longer this time. 

“Good job, let’s keep going.” Throughout the entire study session, Mark rewarded you with quite a few kisses, whether or not you even got the answer right. There wasn’t much either of you had to worry about though. You got thirty out of thirty-three questions correct. As much as you hated science, marine biology to be exact, you were very grateful to have had sign up for the class in the first place since it was what led you to meeting the devastatingly handsome man sitting in front of you. 

Once Mark felt like you had enough studying for the day, the two of you moved over to the couch and turned on the television. He pulled you on to his lap before you could take a seat next to him and wrapped his arms protectively around your waist. Being in this position with Mark wasn’t unfamiliar to you. Mark loved cuddling. You were quick to learn of that just a few days after the first time you stumbled in to bed together. It felt as if it was just yesterday that you went to ask Mark for help after your professor returned your quiz about paleo climate and he was happy to help. You didn’t think that less than a month after he began tutoring you that you’d find yourself writhing underneath him, begging for him to do anything to soothe the burning sensation between your legs. You smiled softly to yourself at the memory and snuggled up closer to his chest while he left a soft kiss against your temple. 

When he began to scroll through Netflix, it was then that you remembered the question you were asked just a few hours ago in your literature class by one of your fellow classmates. 

“Hey Mark?” He hummed in curiosity against your neck and you couldn’t help but snicker at how ticklish it felt. “Are you free Saturday night? Jinyoung asked me to go watch Planet of The Apes with him and I remember you saying something about wanting to see it.” 

When you felt Mark tense up against your back, you couldn’t help but feel as if something was wrong. Jinyoung was a close friend of Mark’s, you actually met him a few times through the older boy and he was nothing short of a gentleman to you. It also so happened that you had him in your first period and the two of you never really talked to each-other other than asking each other how your days were going. Today was the first time he actually asked you something other than what you had for breakfast and you felt as if he was inviting you with the idea of going with the rest of their group of friends. 

“Jinyoung asked you to go see a movie with him? When was this? Why? You guys aren’t even friends.” You were quick to pick up on how his whole demeanor changed when you brought Jinyoung up but you didn’t understand why. 

“He asked me in AP today if I wanted to go watch Planet of the Apes with him—why do you look so upset?” Seeing his brows furrow and his jaw clench made you even more confused but you couldn’t help to think that there was a chance that Mark was jealous. But why would he be jealous of Jinyoung inviting you to see a movie with him. For all you knew, he asked you because he didn’t have anyone else to go with; but why wouldn’t he have asked Mark? You were sure the two of them probably talked about things like this. 

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. So what did you tell him?” You shrugged before tracing your fingers along his brows. 

“I told him I’d ask you first and then I’d let him know.” The sarcastic chuckle that came from the back of Mark’s throat sent chills down your spine. You hardly ever seen Mark mad. The only time you’ve seen him pissed off was when one of the students reported him to your professor for giving him a D on the final. Being a TA, sometimes the professor would allow Mark to correct essays and tests. That student wasn’t all too happy with the way Mark graded his paper and you remembered how furious Mark was when the professor called him in to his office and told him of the news. 

How could you forget? Mark took all his anger out on you in bed that night and you couldn’t walk for the rest of the week once he was finished with you. Luckily the professor went over the student’s exam himself and actually gave the student an F for it instead. Although it was hot seeing Mark getting all riled up, you hated the idea of something getting under his skin and bothering him for the rest of the day. You decided you were going to use this information to try and pry his feelings for you out of him. However, you were afraid of the outcome not being that of your favor but you didn’t care at this point anymore. 

“Good. You’re going to watch that movie with me—not stupid Park Jinyoung.” The last part came out as a murmur but you heard it nonetheless and butterflies began growing in your tummy when you came to terms with the idea of Mark being jealous. It was cute, he was cute and you were madly in love with him. 

“What’s wrong with Jinyoung? He’s a nice guy and I thought you guys were friends. I don’t see anything wrong with going to watch a movie with him—“

“You’re mine! Park Jinyoung knows exactly what you mean to me and just how much I love you yet here he is trying to ask my girl on a date—oh shit. Shit, shit, shit—y/n—“ it was too late. His angry rant turned in to a love confession and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot at the entire thing. Mark finally admitted his love for you and he even referred to you as his girl. Was all of this really happening right now? It felt too good to be true. There was no way he was in love with you even if deep down something told you that the older boy had some kind of feelings for you but love? He couldn’t be in love with you? If he loved you, the two of you would’ve been together a long time ago but he had yet to make things official. 

He was quick to try and lift you off of his lap and you were sure he was going to make a run for it to prevent him from making an even bigger fool out of himself and to prevent you from asking him anymore questions. However, the warm feeling of your lips against his caught his attention and he found himself smiling against your mouth. God, did he love you. He would kiss you for the rest of his life if he could. 

“Y/n—“

“I love you too. I’m in love with you too. I have been for a while now. I just never thought there was a chance that you’d ever reciprocate my feelings so I kept them to myself. No matter how badly I wanted to be yours. I was content with being whatever it is that we are, but I couldn’t help but desire more. I wanted you. All of you. I wanted to make things official between us but you seemed okay to continue fooling around with me so I didn’t say anything—“

“For someone who has a 3.7 g.p.a right now, you’re not all that bright. You know words were never my forte baby—real quick, can I just say how much I love calling you that? Baby. MY baby. You’re MY baby! Understand that? My baby, not Jinyoung’s! Or anybody else’s! I can’t believe he had the audacity to ask you out to a movie knowing that you and I have something. Well, since the cat is out of the bag, I guess I’ll probably explain it all.” 

He brought his hand up to the crown of your head and began running his fingers through your hair. Your heart fluttered with the way he was looking at you; as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. You could get used to this. 

“When you came to me that day, with your hair thrown in to a messy bun wearing nothing but that three sizes too big of a clothing item you call a hoodie when really it was like a tent for you and asked me to help you out, I was over the moon. I’ve seen you walk in and out of class so many times and I found myself developing a little crush on you at the time. You—you don’t understand how beautiful you are do you? You are otherworldly y/n—such a beautiful being. My pretty girl. I can’t take my eyes off of you, it’s physically impossible. But it goes beyond your beauty; although I mean this when I say you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on and I’m sure your golden-hearted personality adds to it. You’re such a selfless and caring person. I’ve seen you help others while you yourself was struggling and I admire that about you. You’re also very hardworking and dedicated in all that you do. There were so many times I found myself wanting to confess my love for you, but just like you I was afraid of you not reciprocating my same feelings. But babe, even if I didn’t outright tell you how I feel, you should’ve known by my actions that I’m crazy for you.” 

He grabbed your hand and began playing with your fingers; a habit you noticed he did every now and then if he had a lot on his mind and needed a distraction. “I don’t let just anyone meet my family let’s just put that out there. Especially someone who I considered a casual fuck.” 

You playfully shoved his shoulder at the memory of meeting the Tuan family. Over two months ago, Mark had asked you if you wanted to go with him to a party and without hesitation, you agreed. You loved going anywhere Mark went; no matter where it was. That’s how you found yourself in arcades and pc rooms every now and then but it didn’t bother you. 

A part of you regretted not asking him about the type of party it was going to be and since you are both in college, you assumed it was going to be a college party. However, when you walked in to a house with Moana decorations scattered throughout the living room and the backyard, you knew you were in deep shit. But the Tuan family were very kind and friendly; his mom wouldn’t stop complementing you and his dad told you a few embarrassing stories from Mark’s childhood that made your insides hurt from all the laughing you did. His nieces also grew very fond of you and continuously asked you about your relationship with their favorite uncle Mark. All in all it was a great day and you couldn’t help but giggle every time one of Mark’s family members asked who you were. 

“I told them you were my girlfriend when you weren’t around. My parents really liked you. In fact my mom won’t stop asking me to bring you over. Oh and to continue the very long list of things that I do for you that I would never do for anyone else, I let you choose the movies; even if I don’t necessarily agree with some of your choices. Like, who in their right minds would sit through three hours watching a nun babysit a bunch of kids and sing songs every five minutes—“ you crossed your arms in disappointment and gave Mark an adorable frown. 

“Hey! I thought you said you like the sound of music—“

“Yeah, yeah it grew on me. Probably because we’ve watched it so many damn times, but that’s besides the point. Anyways, I share my food with you; I wouldn’t even share popcorn with my brother let alone half of a pizza with you. I would never miss out on any class unless I wasn’t feeling well enough to attend but I’ve found myself ditching a couple of my classes in order to spend time with you. I even let you sit in my video game chair y/n. That right there should’ve been proof on it’s own. You know how protective I am over my video games. They’re my babies, well—other than you now. But yeah. I’d do anything for you. I love seeing that breathtaking smile of yours and I love being the reason behind it.” 

You were sure your heart was about to combust the longer he went in to detail about the love he had for you. Although you knew Mark was never a man of words but of actions, it was nice hearing him explain his feelings for you that you weren’t able to pick up on. You couldn’t wait to finally tell BamBam about your newly found relationship with Mark. You knew your best friend would never let you live it down especially after he confronted you about it only for you to shut him down. 

“Were you always this cheesy?” He giggled at your question and shook his head in disagreement. 

“No. Definitely not. You make me soft—well I mean you make me very hard most of the time but yeah, I get all sappy when it comes to you. I think when I noticed myself caring about your happiness and well-being, that’s when I realized we were more than just your typical friends with benefits. I wanted to love you and make love to you. I wanted to fuck you then take you on a romantic picnic at the beach or some shit. You’re really special you know that? You make this pathetic heart of mine really happy. I love you y/n. More than I can fathom in to words.” 

You beamed up at him before placing a gentle kiss on his nose. “I love you too. So, so much. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me and continue to do for me Mark. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” After a few minutes of relinquishing in your love for each other, Mark wrapped his arms around your thighs and stood up, abruptly taking you with him while heading towards your room. “What are you doing Mark—“

“Well the plan is to do you, for the rest of the day. I’d like to celebrate our relationship and eat your pretty little pussy out as a reward for finally telling you how I feel. Now, either you stop talking since you’re ruining the sensual atmosphere, or I’ll give you a reason not to talk with my cock down your throat—yup face fucking it is. On your knees baby, it’s going to be a long day.”

[rigelmejo]

fyi if anyone besides me IS trying out the Listening Reading Method - I have some tips you can read if you want (or feel free to ignore):

you should see significant progress within 30 hours. If you started as an absolute beginner, did what the guide suggests beforehand (learned some common words like a few hundred, looked at a pronunciation guide, looked at a basic grammar summary), then you should see SOME progress. If after 30 hours you don’t see any - you might be doing it wrong (or its not a method that works for you in which case don’t feel u need to waste ur time on it when other stuff might help you more). (http://users.bestweb.net/~siom/martian_mountain/!%20L-R%20the%20most%20important%20passages.htm)

Someone did L R Method as an absolute beginner in Italian (they already knew french, english). They took tests - were A1 when they started L R Method. They did about 30 hours of L R Method. They took a test again and scored B1. So 30 hours should see SIGNIFICANT progress for a language reasonably close to yours, and SOME clear progress I’d imagine even if it’s a less common language (even some gains from absolute beginner to A1-A2 would be solid and noticeable). (https://forum.language-learners.org/viewtopic.php?f=15&t=1721&p=99415#p99415)

Someone tried to L R Method mandarin as a proof of concept. So they only did several hours, and used The Little Prince (which is much simpler writing/language than the L R Method article recommends using). This is their results: “I tried Mandarin LR as a proof of concept a while ago. I used "The Little Prince", and did a few hours. The first couple of hours were exhausting and I was usually lost; by the end, I was associating quite a few characters with their sounds, occasionally understanding sentences in real time as I read along (knowing what parts corresponded) of up to 7 characters or so, etc. Again, this was a small handful of hours, as an effectively zero-beginner; I know some Kanji, but my active Mandarin vocabulary was probably in the single digits... I think this was after I'd studied tones/Mandarin phonology relatively intensively, but I don't recall for certain.” So - within a handful of hours, someone saw language improvement in Mandarin as a total beginner (http://how-to-learn-any-language.com/forum/forum_posts.asp?TID=38593)

I personally have been trying L R Method as a beginner-intermediate ish learner. What I noticed: without a parallel text (so just using english text for step 3) I improved listening comprehension of words I already partly knew (through reading) FIRST. I also picked up some new words, but listening comprehension of words I knew improved most noticeably the first 10ish hours I did L R Method. Using Pleco’s dictation tool for step 3 (so instead of english text, I use chinese text where the english definition auto-pops up as the audio reads each word), or using a parallel text (so chinese and english visible at same time), both VASTLY improved how many new words I pick up per session. For me at least, seeing the chinese text to keep my place in the audio, and seeing easier what audio matches to what english definition, lets me learn new words faster. Since I waste much less effort trying to just keep the text/audio matched up. 

So if the effort of matching up text is draining to you (like it is to me), I recommend: getting an audiobook and chinese text that match as closely as possible. And getting either a parallel text, or using Pleco’s dictation tool in the Reader, or something similar (Pleco’s dictation tool is a lot like using a word by word chinese/english translated text). 

Step 2 seems very useful for: giving you context prior to step 3, practicing reading comprehension and reading speed, listening practice with the chinese(target language) spelling visible, and reinforcing what’s learned in prior step 3′s. 

Step 3 does seem useful the more you repeat it (I’m just lazy).

Test yourself by trying to LISTEN ONLY every once in a while. You should be noticing some improvements in your listening comprehension - the audiobook chapters you should follow more parts, a show without subtitles you might recognize more dialogue, etc. If your listening comprehension itself is not improving to some noticeable degree after 10+ hours of L R Method you may either be doing L R Method wrong, or its just not useful for you.

To see considerable progress in language abilities, it may take 50-100 hours. Or even 100-300. The article linked above, the person who does L R Method (aYa) would usually do at least 30 hours, then 50-100 for a language - eventually also doing step 4 shadowing, step 5 translating back and forth. For less-closely related languages, people mention having done it for a few hundred hours. So do NOT expect total beginner to Fluent in 30 hours. I simply mean, you should expect noticeable progress after some X milestones. After a dozen or so hours you should be able to start recognizing word boundaries with ease, some short phrases. If you’re not a total-beginner, but beginner-intermediate like me, then you should start notice much BETTER listening comprehension of words you already half-knew from reading within a few dozen hours. Then after 30-50, maybe some dialogue understanding, some common words regularly understood, etc. Again - test yourself with Listening-Only every once in a while to see if you’re actually making any progress. Also to see if you wanna ‘alter’ the L R Method to suit your needs better. Maybe you’ll find a way to do it that works better for you.

For ABSOLUTE beginners, especially in languages very different from their own, at the beginning stages simply using sentences with audio may be easier. To perhaps learn a few hundred to thousand common words first - and/or using translations that are word BY word translation right under the target language word. To help with getting used to the grammar, all the new common words, the sounds etc. So materials like Assimil probably do this - Spoonfed Chinese anki deck with its audio/text does this, Nukemarine’s LLJ audio/text deck does this, Japanese Core 2k with its audio/text does this, etc. Clozemaster app might even be a nice beginner transition tool...

For the L R Method steps - really READ them and understand what they mean. Step 3 is NOT watching a target language audio movie with english subs. It is trying to comprehend all of the audio, glancing at the translation JUST to fill in the gaps for parts you can’t manage to comprehend (so for looking up words here and there). While you’re supposed to ‘follow along’ with the translation text, you do NOT tune out the audio. The audio should be your main focus, keeping in line with the translation text is so you can REFERENCE it when you hear a word/phrase/sentence you don’t fully comprehend. And I am guessing step 3 is suggested to be done multiple times so that each time you need the translation less.

 L R Method works best with very vocabulary rich, long texts. If you use a simple text, or a short one (3 hours of audio for example), there’s only so much you’ll be able to learn from it. For example The Little Prince only has a vocabulary of 2000-3000 unique words, 1200ish hanzi in it - so even if you learned it entirely, repeating it over and over, that’s not a lot of info. Particularly if you don’t plan to repeat things, it’s probably going to serve your time better to pick rich vocabulary long texts (so you can pick up tons of words just through one pass through the book, and if you choose to repeat the book, pick up tons more words, before you start running into the rarely used words which will be harder to pick up). 

I am mentioning all this, because I saw someone who did L R method for mandarin for hundreds of hours, and does not have natural listening yet - so cannot follow a new audiobook listening-only, cannot follow a show listening-only. Considering that people have demonstrated they made some progress in 5-10 hours for Mandarin, and 30 hours for Italian, then 300 hours in Mandarin might be able to make more progress. I’ve done maybe 20-30 hours of L R Method so far, and already find I can now listen to at Least the audiobook of the book I’m L R Method-ing now without the text, and follow the main scenes fine. With simpler audio, if I have a visual cue (like acting scenes, or pictures) I find I can follow the main idea much easier than I could before. So I just think... if you are seeing very little noticeable progress after 30-50 hours, the method may not be giving you benefits as quickly as you might want a study method to show improvements. I think if something isn’t giving you some improvement after X effort, you don’t need to stick with it if something else helps you more.

Other factors that may affect this: 

I had some reading basis before I started L R Method. This might have helped me as far as how fast a rate L R Method is helping my progress. For an example: when I simply do step 2 ON ITS OWN I see improvements - because it helps me read through a chapter as fast as the audio, matches audio to the spelling I might already know, and I already can understand enough when reading at that speed to follow the general plot (so step 2 gives me context and increased plot understanding). Therefore, when I do step 3, I can really primarily put my attention on learning to recognize the SOUND of what I already understood - and on learning a few new keywords I already JUST saw and realized I didn’t know. Basically I can use L R Method to quickly pinpoint areas I’m weaker in, while practicing what I can already do. A total beginner won’t have the ‘practice what they already know’ benefit. (Genuinely though step 2 is helping my reading SO much and I know that’s in part due to my current reading comprehension level).

Also I have seen an example of someone who did L R Method while already B2 in Italian - he was aiming for C1. He noticed less drastic improvement after 40 hours - he did still notice some, like easier listening comprehension for shows and conversations. But he did not reach C1 listening/reading skills. So from this we see: L R Method might help you improve faster if you start off with more you still need to learn (which makes sense, since as the words you need to learn get rarer you will run into them less frequently in L R Method). Also, the gap from B2-C1 may be bigger than the gap from A1-B1? Also what I took from his example, is repeating step 3 multiple times becomes MORE important as you’re more intermediate-advanced. I would guess because you probably have less frequently occurring words/grammar to learn, so repeating content WITH those things in it is a way to get more exposure (whereas just going over it once then moving on is Not going to expose you to it much). Also step 3, if you really look away from the transcript for most of it, allows you to really practice listening comprehension. Also shadowing/translating, steps 4 and 5, may be of more benefit to an intermediate-advanced learner. Since shadowing may be doable for them now, and translation may be doable (and hone in on skills more). So... I would guess either the gap you have to bridge as an intermediate-advanced learner is bigger, and/or you just need to do more challenging aspects of L R Method to get similar frequency of benefits you would’ve saw at the beginning stages.