#but still i KNOW i have not gotten notifications about 20+ new followers

[fiona-fififi]

Very uncomfortable with what I am finding in my followers list right now 😬

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Thank you for answering my ask about Mansk and how spider learns that information. i’ve been wanting to ask that question for months. How are you gonna change that in cabin?

Also, another question that I have is how does Quaritch fund himself in cabin like I know that he saved up all of his money while in the military and has the money that he got after Paz was killed but like has he honestly been going 13 years without a job? How was he able to build the cabin and support himself without a job since he was just following spider around the entire time? Because like he has an entire grocery store in his basement and he still gives money to the recalls when they bring gifts for spider.

We’ll have to see. It won’t be anything major. I’ll have to go back to re read and then I’ll just shift and add to the dialogue between Z, Spider and Quaritch a little. I probably won’t get to it until I’m back to working on Cabin. Currently I’m working on Visited on the Son but then my inbox started blowing up so now I’m taking a little break to answer questions.

Also before I get to your question I saw your other message and thank you for letting me know that you don’t get notifications when I go in to correct my fics. I felt bad sometimes because I would make a correction, re post, find another thing to correct and then have to repost it again. Only to find another thing to correct. I’d be like damn I really hope anyone who’s bookmarked this fic doesn’t get notifications when I do this because I am blowing up their inbox right now.

So for the cost breakdown. I made a huge list of everything the cabin would need with the average price of everything. First though is how much money Quaritch would have. I looked up a while ago what on average someone in Quaritch’s position would make. The answer is $200,000 a year. I aged him down a little from his canon age from fifties to forties. So let’s say he rose up the ranks quickly and earned his position by his early thirties. In ten years he’d have about 2 million saved up. In fifteen years it’d be 3 million. And then he got half a million from Paz’s death.

I won’t write out the entire list I made of price breakdowns for the cabin because that would be a lot. But I looked up average costs of things like solar panels, a new electrical system, a water collection system, new plumbing, appliances, and so on. He wouldn’t have to spend money on wood since he’s using the trees he cut down to build the cabin on, so the siding of the cabin and all the furniture he built himself is free. Also he’d save on money since he’s installing all these things himself. The prices I based my numbers off of include the cost of labor.

I think he’d spend good money on quality mattress so two of those would be around $2,000. I got average prices for things like a couch, rugs, curtains, living room chairs, but honestly I think he’d thrift all this stuff. I’ve gotten really high quality furniture from estate sales or people moving for either cheap or completely free. I set a budget for a new wardrobe for Spider at $1,000. Another $1000 for his books, school supplies, and art supplies.

And then theirs everything in the basement. I went to a bulk stores website and looked up things like canned goods, water, and toiletries. 2,000 cans of various fruits and vegetables would be a little over $2,000. 500 bottles of water would only be about $50. And then all the toiletries added together is $364.

The chickens, their coop and necessities is about $4,125. For the garden if he had 20 different varieties of fruit and vegetable seeds, with each packet being on average $5 that’s $100 for all of them. Times that by ten of each packet and that’s another $1000. Now if he got starter plants for all the fruit trees and bushes that adds up to about $1,500

The grand total for everything was $44,040. I just went ahead and rounded up to $50,000 to compensate for whatever I missed. I figured Quaritch would already own a lot of the tools he’d need for all of this but things break or he might need a special tool for something. And then one of the recoms would need to helicopter a lot of supplies to him and Quaritch would want to pay them for that. Even if I doubled the $50,000 to $100,000 that hardly makes a dent in his wealth.

As for how he lived for thirteen years, he’s probably only spending about $40,000 or less a year on cheap motels to stay in since he’s constantly moving around to follow Spider, food, gas for his car, and any other expenses that comes up like maintenance on said car, or the latest long range camera to take pictures of Spider. $40,000 ever year for thirteen years is $520,000

The grand total of all of this is $570,000. That’s the total settlement from Paz’s death, plus a little over a third of one year of his salary from when he did work. So yeah he’s definitely good on money.

Thanks for reaching out again! I had fun making this break down. 💞

[dredgen-dumbass]

Alright, considering this a test round bc testingcheats wouldn't work to give them a house that fits them all. Im going to restart with the same sims later and give y'all a full timeline then bc it was 2am and my typing is too incoherent to tolerate editing. cutoff for yall's sakes since I'm putting this in the main tag. I'm going to tag this destinythesims so y'all who are trying to keep up can.

When it started they all talked to each other immediately, except Drifter. He stood alone by the side of the road, thinking about food. Eris and Crow went in first, to read and watch sports respectively. Drifter got the first skill unlock by talking to Osiris, charisma, and Osiris immediately ran inside.

Everyone was reading. Zavala read a series of unfortunate events, until Eris hugged him, causing him to set it down so she could steal it. Before that she was reading LOTR, but I guess that didn't suit her tastes. When Zavala went to get a new book, everyone got the dislike notification over their heads.

Drifter tried to talk to Saladin about food and Saladin immediately walked off. He coped by doing pushups in the driveway before trying to restart the convo with Ikora. She leaves, Drifter follows, and as soon as Sloane is alone in the driveway, she starts doing situps.

Saladin thinks about Drifter while he takes a shit. ofc he does.

Crow seeks to improve the world. I tell you know, he will not. Remember that for later.

Sloane and Zavala hug. That actually makes sense.

"Genius lesson. Osiris is a genius." "Snob lesson. Osiris is a snob."

They all freeze behind a bus bench while Zavala and Drifter hug. Why the hell are they hugging. What kind of breakdown (or fake breakdown) would have to happen to make Zavala hug Drifter.

Crow makes scrambled eggs and bacon w/ the current goal of "have friends." He finishes making the food, doesn't eat it, and starts complaining about being hungry.

Drifter walks into the bathroom while Sloane is looking in the mirror, and starts talking about crabs. Ikora kicks them out, so Drifter goes to the kitchen and eats the half-eaten sandwich Eris left out. Once Ikora is out, Saladin washes a plate in the bathroom sink, supposedly to avoid Drifter.

Everything is fairly calm for a while. Drifter goes outside and takes a nap on a bus bench. Crow is still hungry from not eating the food he made, so he goes to make new food next to the made food.

He starts a fire.

Everyone freaks the fuck out, except Drifter, who is oblivious to it all, still asleep on his hobo bus bench. Crow doesn't put himself out. Osiris, Saladin, and Ikora just watch him. Eris, Zavala, and Sloane are outside, so they don't notice. When Sloane finally goes in, she walks right past Crow and rummages the fridge, gets food, and calmly walks back outside.

I finally intervened to make Crow put himself out. Once he does, they all go outside. Everyone screams in the driveway while Drifter sleeps peacefully ~20-30 ft away. Zavala notices the fire and suddenly everyone rushes in to extinguish it, like they didn't have the sense to without him mad about it. Ikora and Saladin put it out. But only outside.

Drifter finally wakes up, passes all of them on the street, goes in, sees the fire, goes out, and just stands in the back yard thinking about food until the fire gets to him. Saladin comes over to watch him burn and does not help. Eventually Zavala walked over, Saladin left, and I realized how late it had gotten and finally intervened again to put the whole fire out bc you can't save in a fire.

So that's where we've left off. I'm going to give them a proper house this time and see what happens. Also going to see if they'll get themselves jobs, or if I have to do that too. I'll reblogs this w/ a photo dump later, so stay tuned :)

I just had the hilarious thought of making a bunch of D2 characters with roughly their personalities in the Sims, forcing them to be roommates, and leaving the game idle to see what happens. any takers?

[stffed]

stop it. please - atsumu miya x male reader

warnings: angst, breakups, not being over your ex, long, vent fic, not proof read

a/n: my ex started messaging me today out of nowhere. we broke up amicably but she was very much the first person i could have loved so her talking to me while i’m still very hung up on her isn’t funky fresh for me because she has moved on happily (to her friend who had a crush on her while we were dating and vice versa). no i am not okay as i cried while writing this lol

you stared at the notification. reading his name made your heart ache. his name alone brought back the memories the two of you made all those months ago, during the happiest months of your life. you thought those months would never stop, hopeful that the following months would be filled with more happy times because he promised that they would continue, that each day together would be a happy day.

then he broke that promise. and your heart.

another notification popped up. your eyes were burning by now.

why was he messaging you now? you thought that he had forgotten about you, considering that you hadn’t talked since the new year and that was you wishing him a happy new year, with him responding back weakly. and even before that, the last time you talked was a few months ago, exactly two months after you had broken.

two months after you had gotten over him.

taking a deep breath, you unlocked your phone and looked at his message. it was a picture of osamu asleep, a shitty mustache drawn on him in what you think was permanent marker. the followup message was calling him the sleepy twin.

you chuckled to yourself. it was quite a funny picture. you text him back, something along the lines of wishing ‘samu sweet dreams, not really expecting a message back.

then not even two minutes later, you get another message.

atsumu: how have u been? i heard u started seeing someone else

you would have been surprised at atsumu knowing this, if it weren’t for the fact that osamu was one of your best friends. of course osamu couldn’t keep something like that from his brother (considering that you were one of his only friends and sources of information).

atsumu: i also got another boyfriend lol

that broke your heart.

twice in not even six months had atsumu miya broken your heart.

the man made you realise that maybe relationships at your age - the ripe old age of 20 - weren’t just temporary. he made you realise that if there was someone that you had feelings for, proper feelings that didn’t fade after a few weeks, they could make you see futures that you wouldn’t have even dreamed of. they could change the beliefs you had before, make you become someone different.

and then destroyed the dreams he had made you seen.

y/n: ye

y/n: we’ve been together for like a month. i liek him vvv much

you did like your new boyfriend, kuroo. he made you very happy and never failed to put a smile on your face. but he didn’t make you feel what atsumu made you feel.

you never grieved over your breakup. you were a big boy who doesn’t cry at trivial things like relationships or mufasa dying in the lion king. instead, you were just sad for a day or two and it was like to business as usual. maybe that was why you were getting so broken up over atsumu messaging you.

atsumu: cool

atsumu: send pics pls. i wanna see if he’s fit or not

another chuckle. he always knew how to put a smile on your face. so without thinking about it, you send the most recent picture you have of kuroo to atsumu. he responds almost immediately with a sweating emoji.

atsumu: hotti alert

y/n: i know bby

atsumu: but not as hot as my omi-omi

it took you a second to realise who he was talking about. and then it hit you like a sack of bricks.

y/n: KIYOOMI SAKUSA IS YOUR BOYF

y/n: WHAT THE FRICK

atsumu and sakusa had been close friends while the two of you dated. they were in the same volleyball team so it was understandable that they were friends. you just didn’t think that either of them would start dating.

atsumu: ye

atsumu: we got 2gether a few months after we broke up

oh. that hurt. that really fucking hurt.

not only did he acknowledge that the two of you broke up, but he was using it as a timestamp for his current relationship. and the pain only increased as he explained how sakusa had a crush on atsumu while the two of you dated and atsumu realised not long after he broke up with you that he had a crush on him as well.

you felt fucking horrible. while you were giving your all to atsumu, your whole heart and body, he was in the process of losing feelings for you. you were convinced that the two of you were going to be together for years so you left some fringe friends so you could spend more time with him but no. he was falling in love with his friends and breaking your heart.

and to make it all better, you were getting ready to say that you loved him. you had never felt this way about anyone else before. no one else had made you as happy as atsumu in your short five months together. you truly thought he was the one.

he clearly thought otherwise.

y/n: that’s pretty cool bro

y/n: i wanna be best man at the wedding lol

it was so hard to type with tears burning against your eyes. it was so hard with your heart thumping in your ears, stomach dropping to the floor. he continued messaging you as normal, talking about how sakusa helped him change so much. you could practically hear the happiness in his voice, as if he was talking about it next to you.

you just wished he would stop messaging you. you wished he would leave you alone. you wished you could grieve the death of your future with him.

you wished you had never fallen in love with him.

[channiebbang]

just listen, trust me.

synopsis: a misunderstanding drives jaemin away from the only person that he should've trusted. when reality slaps him in the face he feels miserable and tries to win his love back. or something of the sort lol

characters: Jaemin, Main Character, Jeno, and a bit of Haechan, Renjun, Chenle, Mark and Jisung.

pairing: boyfriend!jaemin x f.maincharacter

genre: angst angst angst and fluff

word count: 7k (fucking hell it's THAT long?) sorry lmao

warnings: none

author’s note: this took way too long to finish jfvamejgf but i really couldn't come up with a good enough ending. or more like i couldn't write down what i wanted to write lol but i finally finished it heheh i hope you like it and it satisfies the wait i made you go through lol 💛💛

the many things people told him echoed in his head. the dimmed lights of his studio room and the slow, low beat of the music not doing much to brighten up his mood.

she's being too friendly with that one friend of yours, don't you think?

he's warming up too much to her.

watch out, you wouldn't want someone to whisk her away from you, she is a bit naive, she could be affected too easily.

and it would all have fallen to deaf ears, because he was never one to let anyone talk about his personal life, only if one of his closest friends hadn't said something.

"jaem," jeno's voice made jaemin turn to his friend. jeno looked around to their other friends before figuring out they wouldn't let what he was going to say out of the circle.

"yeah," jaemin smiled at jeno, remnants of his laugher from what renjun was saying. jeno cleared his throat still unsure how to approach the topic.

as soon as the news reached his ears he had searched for his friend. he was unsure of the news but he figured jaemin could always ask y/n and they would solve things if it were to be lies. what jeno didn't know at the time was all the other stuff jaemin had heard.

"listen," jeno started, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, "i.. people are saying some stuff and i-," he cleared his throat again, in nervousness, "i thought i should let you know. i don't think they are true at all! but... one can never be too sure, right?" he asked, voice unsure as his eyes darted to meet jaemin's. the latter's brows furrowed in confusion, wondering what the hell jeno was talking about and he was just about to ask when he continued.

"in case it's wrong then you guys can always just clear it out but i heard this from someone close and thought i would let you know either ways," jeno's hand scratched his neck in nervousness.

"just fucking say it, oh my god," chenle huffed, impatient with the suspense the older was building up.

"i swear to god, if you say something like a joke," haechan warned, mark snorting.

"i'm serious, just," jeno groaned, wondering why he had to be the one to break the news.

"just tell me, jeno," jaemin smiled and jeno felt the already heavy load on his shoulder get 20 kgs heavier. he took a deep breath. all in one go, he thought, just like a band aid.

"y/n is cheating on you."

and jaemin's world fell apart.

everyone could have been wrong but jeno? could jeno be wrong too?

silence. total silence followed as jaemin's smile fell and his eyes stared ahead to jeno but not really.

he thought about y/n, thought if he could picture her doing anything like than and the answer came right away, even before he finished his thought. no. just no. she could never. but they always said it's the people you least expect it from. but y/n? she could never... right?

"what the fuck are you talking about?" it was mark who had spoken, the defensive tone evident in voice as he did nothing to mask it and jeno looked away from jaemin's eyes to the eldest.

"y/n could never, she's not like that," renjun chuckled drily, in disbelief.

"jeno, are you sure about this?" haechan raised a hand in front of him to assess the grave situation.

"that's what i said. i heard this from someone who's reliable, i can't say who, though."

jaemin cleared his throat catching everyone's attention. he gulped the lump in his throat before he looked around the group.

"i'll handle this, don't worry."

that was all he said but even if he sounded calm and collected, his eyes said a different story, and his clenched jaw showed a different side of the coin. and as much as they wanted to believe he would handle it with care with y/n, they saw the storm coming even before he did. because jaemin's eyes were on fire, he was aflame. and that uncertainty he had before had just been consumed with jeno's confirmation. jaemin's tipping point was reached. as he turned to walk away a hand grasped his arm.

"jaemin," it was jisung, jaemin waited for him to go on.

"she would never do that." was all he said.

the ding of his phone's notification brought him back from the memory. he reached out to his phone deciding this could no longer be avoided. he was determined enough. with these thoughts running in his head he dialed y/n's number and pressed the phone to his ear.

"hello? jaem?" she answered, and he sighed because how could she sound so angelic, and how was he supposed to confront her when he felt his heart tighten just by her voice. he sucked up the weakness he felt for her when she called out his name again.

"hey, where are you?" he asked softly, but no matter how much he tried to conceal it, the coldness in his voice seeped through.

"i'm at the cafe near my apartment with kyunhae," she giggled and at the mention of the name jaemin saw red. what the fuck was she doing with him?

"when will you be done? i need to talk to you," he deadpanned, voice colder than y/n had ever heard and she felt at alert right away. why was he talking like that?

"jaem?" wonder laced her voice as she silently asked what was up but jaemin said nothing.

"it's urgent," he specified and y/n had asked him to pick her up right away, sensing something was wrong. and jaemin was left confused to stare at his phone again.

how long are you gonna pretend you care about me? why are you doing me this dirty? why are you faking caring about me?

with those thoughts he had gotten up, whisked his jacket from behind his bedroom door and out of the house he was.

as he drove through the streets he tried to think again, he tried to figure out again if she could really have cheated on him. he was desperate for it to be a lie but then again, jeno had confirmed it, hadn't he?

could the girl that held him so tightly when they slept, cheat on him? could the girl he grew to love so much do this to him? how could she even think about it when she cried during children's movies, had ice cream cravings out of nowhere, cried in his arms, clinging to him when he had almost fainted from low blood pressure, helped him stand back on his feet whenever he was sick, babying him through the whole process. how could she cheat on him when she kissed him so softly, as if he was the most precious thing she had, when she held him so close as he murmured sweet nothings in her ears, when she looked at him with so much love when he smiled, when right as he laughed he would look over at her and she would be staring at him. her excuse? she loved seeing him happy. how could the same person that confessed her love for him in between shallow breaths, gasps and whines as he made her feel good be the same person to cheat. how could she make him feel so loved and so important if it was all fake.

it took him a total of twenty minutes to reach the cafe. he parked the car outside as he texted y/n he was out front. he waited for her leaned against the side of his car.

the door to the entrance to the cafe opened and y/n walked out first, face turned behind her as she laughed with kyunhae. jaemin's hands balled into fists as he watched the interaction, the anger swam in his veins as he watched y/n collide her fist against his in a fist bump before calling out a text me later.

y/n turned out front to jaemin and the way her eyes seemed to genuinely spark up in bright stars as soon she saw him had his heart clenching in pain. how long have you been mastering this act? how can you look this genuine?

"hi, handsome," she gushed as she pressed her chest to his, arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. jaemin gulped, eyes trained to her relaxed expression, eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips as she hugged him standing on her tippy toes. his arms shoot out out of habit as they went to wrap around her waist before his hands hovered over her frame. he couldn't do it. he couldn't pretend everything was okay.

as y/n didn't feel jaemin hug her back she pulled away slowly, her eyes looking up at him as her arms slowly fell away from him.

"jaem?" she softly called him and his eyes met hers, cold as ever. her hand raised to rest on his cheek in affection but before she could touch his skin, his fingers wrapped around her wrist and stopped her in her tracks. y/n's brows furrowed in confusion.

"let's go," he simply said as he stepped away and opened the passenger seat door for her, y/n looked at him for a few seconds more as he looked to the side and waited for her to get in, so she did.

the silence was eating y/n alive as she fidgeted with her fingers, suspecting something was wrong. she raked her brain, wondering if she did or said anything wrong but it all came empty.

"jaem?" she tentatively called for him. jaemin waited for a few seconds before he hummed in acknowledgement, but even that small sound seemed cold, colder than he had ever been.

"is something wrong?" she softly asked, hand reaching out to grasp his and intertwining their fingers before resting it on her lap. but as soon as the back of his hand rested against her jeans clad thigh he shook off her hand to grasp the wheel again.

she sat frozen, eyes trained where their hands were, her hand still in her lap the same way he had shook it off. what did i do so bad? she wondered.

"i'm driving," came his excuse but she knew something else was up. he had never rejected her touch like this.

"if something is wrong please tell me, i'll help you," she shook off the hurt before turning to him and sending a small smile, eyes pleading, but jaemin stared ahead, silent.

a few minutes later jaemin parked the car in his apartment building garage before swiftly getting out and waiting for y/n. it took her a few seconds before she was out too. they made their way to the elevators. the elevator came, they got in, and it went up to jaemin and his friend's apartment floor. all in silence.

jaemin walked in first, leaving the door open for y/n. as she closed the door behind her she made eye contact with jisung. the boy smiled warmly at the girl and stepped towards her.

"oh! didn't know you were coming over, want some?" he raised the hot pot of ramen, seemingly on the way to his room, and y/n smiled shaking her head as she took her shoes off.

"i ate, but thank you," she smiled warmly and jisung threw her a thumbs up before walking to his room and closing the door.

y/n walked into the apartment looking around for which way jaemin went before her eyes fell on his seated figure in the living room. everyone seemed to be in their own rooms apart from mark, who stood in the kitchen.

"hey," he waved, a warm smile on his lips before his eyes shifted jaemin and his smile dimmed a bit, y/n waved back.

she shuffled towards jaemin, still confused as to what happened.

"jaemin?" she called for him, his head snapped her way before he slowly stood up.

"do you have anything to tell me?" he asked and y/n thought hard and careful if she had forgotten anything but came up with nothing so she timidly shook her head, hands picking at the border of her tshirt. the one that belonged to jaemin.

"did i forget anything?" she murmured, head low as she felt guilty for forgetting something that affected him so much.

"you have nothing to tell me?" he repeated, a scoff following and y/n looked back up at him, her brows furrowed.

"okay, let me ask you this," he said, hands resting on his hips as he looked up at the ceiling. mark watched, debating whether he should leave or not, but then choosing against it, someone had to try and do damage control.

"what is kyunhae to you?" at the new question y/n's brows furrowed even more.

"jaem what are you reaching at?" she asked, confusion eating her alive. jaemin's eyes sent daggers her way and she realized that she never wanted to have that gaze on her ever again.

"answer my question; what. is. kyunhae. to. you?" he asked again, emphasizing his words. the agitation clear in his voice as he ran a hand through his hair. mark stepped into the living room area.

"jaemin, chill," he tried to calm the younger and prevent him from saying anything he would regret later. this wasn't how he thought jaemin would handle things.

"why can't she just answer?!" jaemin exclaimed. the more she delayed her answer the more anger rose in him. her lips quivered seeing a jaemin she had never seen. he had never talked to her like that, with so much hartred.

"he's just a friend! that's all! why are you asking me that!" she answered, her voice a notch higher as she felt attacked. the way he talked to her made her feel defensive. she had never felt attacked by him and she was scared, she didn't know what happened, why he was acting like that. but no matter how naive she was she wasn't stupid.

she heard what people said about her, she knew things reached jaemin's ears in the past and she had done everything in her power to show him he was the only person she loved, only person she cared about. that he was her everything, her all. she had gifted him with a matching promise ring, to reassure him that she was his, always will be. she had told him not to listen to anyone, only her. she loved him, she really did. that's why she always told him when she would be out with kyunhae, she wanted him to know that whenever he needed it she will drop him and come running to jaemin. because jaemin was her priority. she had told him about meeting him today too but jaemin had forgotten it seems.

"then why the fuck do i hear different things?" he all but screamed and y/n stood frozen on her spot, scared. he had never raised his voice at her, much less in the process of accusing her of anything.

"i swear jaem," her voice came out in a trembled whisper as jaemin breathed heavily, "none of it is true, i swear," she pleaded, her eyes stinging in desperation. she needed him to believe her.

"you're lying," he shook his head, an empty chuckle leaving his lips as he threw his head back in disbelief and anger, "you've been lying for who knows how long," he muttered and y/n's brows furrowed, offended.

"i have never lied to you," she breathed out, before she remembered mark standing nearby. she took two quick steps towards him, taking a hold of his hand softly, "jaem, let's talk about it in your room, okay? let's solve this," she pleaded as she softly pulled his hand but jaemin snatched his arm away from her.

"no," he shook his head, "we're gonna do it here, so you can't lie to me anymore," his voice rose as he pointed around him and y/n's eyes blurred in frustration and hurt. how could he be like this.

"jaem what has gotten into you?" she asked, voice a tremble as the first tears threatened to spill, "please, i don't want to lose you, let's calm down and talk about this," she pleaded again.

"if you didn't want to lose me you should've thought about it before you cheated on me!"

y/n felt her heart break at his words, she felt like he had pushed her off of a building, she felt like the ground was snatched from under her feet and she was left falling into the void. the emotion swam in her expression.

"what's going on?"

mark's head snapped towards renjun and haechan's figures as they stepped out of their rooms and into the living room, eyes widened in alarm shifting from y/n to jaemin and then to mark.

mark shook his head. the three looked at y/n, her emotions set on her face and they knew right away they had the whole situation wrong. jaemin had it wrong.

she didn't look alarmed, caught in the act or guilty, she looked down right betrayed, hurt, and deceived.

"i did nothing of the sort, jaemin," her voice came out offended, disbelief swimming in her tone.

"jaem," haechan walked in front of his friend, partially blocking y/n's view, "that's enough, calm down," he muttered lowly, only jaemin hearing him. jaemin shook his head as he pushed haechan away softly.

"no, i need to know why," he insisted, "why would you do that to me? why not just tell me?" he asked again.

"i didn't do anything! i understand you heard it somewhere but hell, jaemin, at least ask me before you assume the worst!" she exclaimed her arms raising and dropping by her sides.

"and you're still fucking lying to me!" he raised his voice again in exasperation.

"i have no reason to lie to you! why are you saying all this to me? how could i ever do that to you, jaem?" her voice grew quiet at the end, just the thought of his implications finally sending the tears tumbling down her cheeks. jaemin scoffed.

"exactly, how could you do that to me?! all i ever did was treat you with care, i always put you first!" he countered again, the vein in his neck popping.

"jaem, you're not listening to me, please, just listen to me," she pleaded a sob escaping her lips as she stepped closer t him, her hands grasping his cheeks in desperation for him to look at her eyes, to believe her, "i love you, i would never ever do anything like that, please trust me, let them all be, just trust me."

but jaemin took a hold of her hands and let them fall in between them.

"what if it's someone close to me that told me," he scoffed stepping away.

"jaemin don't," renjun interfered, standing in front of y/n, blocking her completely from jaemin's eyes.

"just go home y/n," jaemin shook his head as his fingers ran trough his hair and he turned away.

"yah, you're exaggerating," mark called him out and jaemin threw him a glance.

"then why bring me here? why do this in front of everyone when you could've done that when you met me, why this whole thing?" she asked quietly. she didn't know what she felt, she didn't know who this person in front of her even was.

she understood jaemin, she really did. hearing so many things from so many people must've played with his head, she understood it. but fucking hell she wished he had talked to her about it, about all of it. she wished he didn't lash out on her, she wished he had just remembered who she was and how much she loved him. she was a person too, wasn't she? she could get hurt too, right?

when jaemin didn't answer she hurriedly turned around, making her way to the door. she fleetingly saw the youngest two silently standing in front of their door at the commotion but she paid no mind to that. all she wanted was to go away. y/n felt so lost, so betrayed; why didn't he believe her? why didn't he just ask her?

"y/n wait-" haechan tried to call back the girl but she was already out of the door, quickly walking to the elevator and pressing repeatedly on the button.

"fucking hell jaem, is this how you planned to handle it? really?" renjun scolded the black haired guy. jaemin sat on the couch, head in his hands and eyes brimming with tears. suspiciously all their phones dinged one after the other. chenle and jisung looking at each other in confusion as they were the only ones to notice.

mark ran out of the apartment slowly coming to a stop in beside of y/n. she kept her head down, tears dripping on the floor from the tip of her nose as she sniffled.

"y/n," mark took a hold of her elbow, "wait for a second, you can't leave alone. it's late, I'll take you home, hmm?" he tried to persuade her softly, careful not to be too loud. but she shook her head.

"thank you, but i need to be alone," she whispered, her shoulder shaking as she took in a harsh breath. mark's eyes softened.

"let me call you an uber, at least?" he offered again, hand caressing her hair in affection but she shook her head again.

"I'll be okay," she muttered as the doors to the elevator dinged and opened. y/n took a step forward before coming to a stop when another pair of shoes came into her view, she stepped aside muttering a sorry.

"oh, y/n..?" jeno's voice was surprised, his phone held on his hand and his eyes wide. he looked at mark, who held the most disappointed look on his face, brows furrowed. jeno looked back at y/n in confusion.

she looked up at his voice and the sight of her wet cheeks, red nose and swollen eyes sent an alarm to jeno. his eyes widened as he stammered.

"fuck, y/n, I'm so sorry- i didn't know-" jeno was at a loss of words as realization dawned on y/n and she smiled bitterly.

"it's okay," she simply said as she walked into the elevator and waited for the doors to close.

-

jaemin looked up as mark and jeno walked into the apartment, just at the same time as jisung and chenle stumbled out of their rooms, phone grasping in their hands.

"hyung, you gotta see this," chenle shoved his phone into jaemin's face. the latter took in a deep breath, taking the phone from the younger.

"jaem," jeno muttered, eyes remorseful, "i'm so sorry," he solemnly muttered out, and jaemin furrowed his brows in confusion before looking at the screen of chenle's phone.

under the instagram picture, written in bold letters, the words "SHE SAID YES" and the small line underneath "thank you y/n for helping me make it even more memorable" were mocking him. and as jaemin ran his fingers through his hair for the nth time that evening and gripped his roots in a vice like grip, his eyes scanned the picture. the picture of kyunhee and who he assumed was his fiancé now. jaemin felt like the biggest idiot in the planet.

-

so as y/n helped kyunhee with the preparations of his engagement party with the biggest smile she could muster up, the happiness she painted on didn't quite reach her eyes. jaemin had tried again and again to contact her but y/n made it a point to ignore all his texts and all his calls, only using her phone when extremely needed.

she helped her dear friend through the whole process, never missing a beat to tell him and the lucky girl how proud she was of them both.

kyunhee felt guilty taking her help, so much so that y/n had screamed at him to not give her the pity look. she had explained that she needed the distraction and after much thought he let her handle whatever she wanted.

he told himself if he ever came face to face with jaemin he would've made him taste his fist, but he knew they would resolve their misunderstanding. of course they would, they loved each other infinitly after all.

y/n was surprised when two days after the break up her mother came knocking on her door. at first she had thought jaemin had called her and as soon as she was about to send her mother away, the older woman had told, "i knew something wasn't right, i could feel it." and so y/n had her dearest mother at her apartment, making sure she got the energy she needed and she ate well.

jaemin on the other hand was lost. completely lost. he beat himself up for how he had talked to y/n, he scolded himself for not having talked it out. he regretted not listening to her when she was asking for him to listen.

he tried calling her a thousand times. he tried texting her from the boys' phones and every time he would let a dry laugh out when she would reply "tell jaem i don't want to speak." he knew his girl knew him too well and he felt worse every time because how did he let go of her? what an idiot.

so it was with a heavy heart and jaw clenched in embarrassment that jaemin was standing in front of a building, waiting for the one he misunderstood. truth be told, he was nervous, for what he still didn't know but he had a hunch.

"jaemin," a voice pulled him out of his thoughts and jaemin turned to his right to come face to face with a poker face kyunhee. he cleared his voice, holding out his hand for a handshake.

"hey, i hope i didn't mess up your schedule, i can only imagine how busy you are," jaemin smiled a tight lipped smile. kyunhee stared at him for a second before deciding to be cooperative for y/n's sake. he grasped jaemin's hand and gave it a firm shake before letting go.

"you technically did," he sighed, jaemin's brows furrowed, a confused sound leaving his lips, "mess up my schedule. i had an appointment i had to cancel," kyunhee said, arms crossing over his chest. jaemin blinked for a few seconds before muttering a soft sorry in embarrassment. silence fell upon the two guys. kyunhee's eyes stayed put on jaemin's wavering ones. he could practically see the wheels turning in the black haired guy.

"what the hell are you guys doing?" kyunhee sighed then. jaemin's eyes snapped on him, eyes wide in alarm.

"i-i'm very sorry for misunderstanding your intentions. i really am," jaemin blabbed, kyunhee rolled his eyes.

"why are you apologizing to me when the person you should apologize to is somewhere else?" kyunhee asked as a matter of fact.

"she doesn't want to talk to me," jaemin whispered, eyes looking away and jaw clenching. kyunhee scoffed catching jaemin's attention again.

"yeah no shit she doesn't," the newly engaged one spat out and jaemin let out a humorless snicker, head nodding.

"you acted like a total dick to her, i don't even know how she hasn't blocked you yet," kyunhee shot again and jaemin listened, for he knew he deserved it. the former's eyes softened for a second at jaemin's obvious miserable eyes, before hardening again.

"oi, dickhead," he called jaemin, foot kicking at his shin, jaemin ducked to hold his shin out of instinct, eyes snapping up in despair.

"oi! what was that for?" he called.

"i won't tell you to go to her place and beg for forgiveness, because quite frankly, that's not going to work," kyunhee deadpanned and jaemin nodded, hanging to his every word.

"give her time, jaemin, she's hurt," he continued.

jaemin stared at the floor at his feet as he thought. guilt enveloping him in its arms as usual these days. he took a deep breath again and looked up at his girlfriend's friend, he offered a small smile.

"thank you, really," jaemin muttered, genuine gratefulness in his voice, "for holding her up, i know it should've been me but i'm glad she has a friend like you, i'm really sorry again."

"it's okay, don't worry about it. just think about what kind of pose you need to hold when you're begging on your knees for her forgiveness," kyunhee bit back in a lighter tone, feeling weird about all the formality. jaemin snorted the real smile in a while, grateful kyunhee got rid of the heavy serious air around them.

"congratulations on your engagement, by the way," jaemin clapped the side of kyunhee's arm and the latter thanked him, before a thought hit him and his eyes squinted as he looked at jaemin.

"uhhh why are you looking at me like that?" the black haired one asked, an unsure tone to his voice.

"you know what? why don't you..."

-

"the place looks so pretty!" y/n turned to her mother with a proud smile as the older woman looked around the engagement party venue with sparkling eyes, "you did a great job, love," she turned to y/n and lovingly caressed her face.

"thank you, mom," y/n giggled, her hand grasping her mom's as they made their way through the crowd.

the venue was decorated in hues of white and lilacs, the stage at the front of it was decorated with fresh flowers and thin branches giving it a very fresh look.

her eyes lit up when she saw her dear friend and his fiancé in the distance.

"let's go say hi to kyunhee," she told her mother as they made their way towards the couple.

-

it was thirty minutes later, when y/n was enjoying her time with a few friends and their families that the murmurs started.

at first y/n didn't pay any attention to it because who cares if a handsome guy was at the party, she was already taken. well. not anymore, but that didn't change the fact that her heart lay where jaemin was.

so imagine her surprise when she turned around to look around the place and her eyes fell on none other than the handsome guy everyone was talking about. na jaemin.

as soon as their eyes met y/n's head snapped towards kyunhee a few meters away, talking to another guest, and the piece of shit had the audacity to smile at her and throw a wink before returning his eyes to the guest.

jaemin slowly came to a stop beside her, back as straight as a wooden plank, shoulders tense. he threw a tight lipped smile around the few people surrounding him as he greeted them.

"jaemin dear?" y/n's mother's eyes sparked up in adoration and y/n smiled softly at the scene as her mom engulfed a chuckling jaemin in her arms, hands grasping his face softly as she gushed over him.

"how long it has been, love, how are you?" she asked and jaemin chuckled before patting her back and stood back up straight to look at her.

"too long, sorry i couldn't come to say hi sooner, i was stuck with all the assignments i pushed back," he apologized, ever the gentleman and y/n's eyes stung a bit as she blinked.

"ahh you study so well, but don't neglect your health," she smiled again as she hugged him tighter and jaemin nodded hugging her back. what he didn't expect was the words the older woman whispered in his ear as she pulled away.

"make things right, love, fight for each other," and she gave him the most loving smile as she said something about enjoying the evening and walked to a group of ladies.

jaemin's eyes fell on y/n and she looked away as jaemin stepped up beside her as she pulled away from the small group, saying something about getting a glass of prosecco.

she threw him a side glance as she stopped at the table.

"why are you following me," at the sound of her voice jaemin let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. his hand twitched to hold hers.

"i wanted some prosecco," he muttered and a small smile pulled at his lips when she blushed in embarrassment before nodding and moving away with the glass in her hand, jaemin doing the same. the two stood at the side in silence.

"y/n," jaemin called after a while and y/n hummed, her eyes trained to the live band, "i'm very sorry," he whispered. y/n stopped in the middle of taking a sip before detaching the glass from her lips.

"i don't want to talk about it, jaem," she muttered before taking the sip, finishing the content in the flute all in one go. jaemin's hand rested against the back of her waist in reflex.

"slow, you're gonna get dizzy," he muttered and y/n could hear the worry in his tone, and she hated it because how could he sound like that after all he had said.

there were a few things that put jaemin's worry at rest. that assured him that y/n was still is girl. he felt a small smile tug at his lips when she called him by his nickname, when she didn't push away his hand on her waist, his chest puffed out, and when she nodded at his words of worry he felt himself relax a bit.

"you're beautiful," he muttered loud enough for only y/n to hear as he took a sip of his prosecco, eyes set on her as she turned around with narrowed eyes, only to blush like crazy when her eyes met his. jaemin's eyes held an intimacy she couldn't hold right now. he let out a deep chuckle when her chest and neck set up in flames.

they stood there side by side as they watched the many couples dancing. jaemin's eyes would settle on her every few seconds, so much so that she could feel it every time.

"what are you two doing?" y/n's mother's voice made the couple's head snap to the side. y/n made sure a soft smile settled on her lips as her mother's friends followed her.

"who's this, y/n?" one of them asked, curious eyes settled onto jaemin, the latter giving a polite smile and a bow as he muttered his hellos. before y/n could answer, her mother chimed in.

"oh! this is jaemin, i told you about him! he's my daughter's boyfriend, such a gem, let me tell you. sweetest boy i ever met," she gushed, and y/n's panic stricken eyes met jaemin's smiling ones. her eyes narrowed at his pleased look.

"oh my, he's so gorgeous! you're absolutely stunning, dear!" one of the women smiled as she caressed his cheek and jaemin chuckled, muttering a thank you.

"well, what are you two doing here? go for a dance!" y/n's mother ushered as she pushed them to the clearing, where other couples were dancing.

y/n made to protest and push back but her words got swallowed up by the encouraging giggling of the older women as they stumbled upon the floor.

y/n looked at jaemin as he settled his prosecco flute on the tray of a passing waiter.

a few minutes later the two found themselves slowly swaying to the music. one of y/n's hands in jaemin's as his other hand rested against the middle of her back. his thumb brushed slowly in a comforting manner, so much so that y/n found herself stopping from leaning her head on his shoulder out of instict.

jaemin's eyes stayed on her features as hers looked anywhere but him. his heart hurt that she didn't want to even look at him, but he also understood. he had hurt her deeply, after all.

"y/n," he called, voice loud enough only for her to hear. she hummed in acknowledgment, "look at me," he tapped his thumb against her back and she reluctantly looked up at him.

"i'm sorry," he squeezed her hand, and she remained silent. she didn't know what to say. what do you say to sorry when you can't say it's okay? do you ignore it? do you say i heard you? do you just nod? what do you do?

people say sorry and expect everything to be fine, they say sorry when they know the answer is going to be it's okay. but, to y/n it wasn't okay, it couldn't be okay. she didn't know if it would be anytime soon or anything. all she knew was that she was hurt, extremely hurt. so she couldn't say it's okay.

she loved jaemin tremendously. so much so it was scary. she loved him so much her chest hurt sometimes, her lungs felt like giving out and her heart felt like squeezing the life out of it. it was painful how much she actually loved him. she felt like crying if she didn't ignore how much she actually loved him.

not because it was unhealthy, but because she knew she would give it all up for him. she couldn't dwell too much on the love she harbored for him, she just had to live with the knowledge that she loved him a lot. she knew if she tried to think about how much she loved him she would cry so much it would worry him. and she didn't know how she could ever explain that.

because how do you explain to someone you love them so much you want to cry because your heart hurts, it hurts so much because even your heart is too small to contain that much love. because you love everything about them, all of it. and you know how cheesy it is when people list out all the reasons why they love someone but your love is different; you can't pin point what exactly you love, you can't pin point what makes you happy about them, and you can't bring yourself to just find one physical attribute you love about them because that would be a lie, because that's not why you love them, and you can't say personality because as much as that's the closest thing as to why you love them, it's not quite there yet.

you just love them. the essence of what and who they are, with all their flaws and imperfections and all things perfect, it's just them entirely. it's their ability to smile when they're hurting, it's the way they make mistakes and they learn, the way they just are. and you can't explain it so you just accept it that when someone asks why you love them you'll just have to say a measly i love everything about them, and as cute as that sounds it's so basic and so underwhelming to what you actually feel but that's all that you're able to say.

so y/n stared at jaemin's eyes and her eyes stung and moistened up because she could feel her heart hurting, because she let herself actually feel how much she loved him. yes, he hurt her. yes, she was in pain. but the pain she felt from loving him was so much greater and so much more overwhelming.

jaemin was quick to softly push his hand on her back and encourage her to rest her head on his shoulder, knowing how much she hated crying in public. she gladly took the support, resting her forehead on his shoulder. he hushed her as his lips pressed against her hair.

"you hurt me," she said, and jaemin rested her hand clasped in his on his other shoulder, fingers squeezing hers, arm tightening around her back.

"i know, i'm so sorry, really, i'm so sorry, princess," he muttered, lips pressed to her hair.

"i felt like i lost everything," she started, voice trembling as she forced herself to not cry, "everything we build up, everything we went through, i felt like i lost all of it. i tried to care so much for you, i tried to show you how much i loved so hard, but i-" her voice choked, "-i felt like i lost it all, and you wouldn't even listen to me. i was so alone, i felt so alone," she continued, and jaemin's eyes stung as he listened to her, because that was all she needed; for him to listen to her.

he brought her hands behind his neck as he grasped her face in his hands and pulled her back to look her in the eyes. he sent her a soft smile as his thumbs caressed her cheeks.

"i'm so sorry i made you feel like that. i'm an absolute asshole,-" "yes you are," he chuckled as she interrupted him, "i will make it up to you. i swear, i will, please accept my apologies."

his lips downturned as she shook her head before his brows furrowed in confusion when she rested her head back on his shoulder and crossed her fingers at the back of his neck.

"make it up to me and maybe i will," she spoke softly and jaemin smiled fondly as he rest one arm around her waist and the other rose up to caress her head lovingly, and y/n's eyes closed at the action, a smile pulling at her lips.

"deal," he chuckled, before he smiled teasingly, "i'm surprised you didn't cry, you crybaby," he teased and she mutter a fuck you.

"why would i cry," she scoffed and jaemin laughed at her words.

after a beat of silence, "i read somewhere if you clench your butthole right when you're about to cry it stops the waterworks, guess it works."

and jaemin laughed loudly as she shook in his arms from her own laughter.

[songbirdstyles]

when the levee breaks

summary: you’re a waitress and harry is being stood up.

warnings: brief smut, angst, fluff, love at first sight <3 kind of

song inspo.: when the levee breaks - led zeppelin

word count: 9.5k

There’s always a particular vibe you get from people going on first dates.

It’s an easy one to notice and you and your coworkers love pointing it out - it’s an air of hope and romance, people arriving dressed their very best yet still holding some sort of awkwardness. It’s sweet, actually, and quite adorable and they’re always the nicest to you, needing to impress their date and make sure they know that they’re respectful. It’s the same reason they leave such a hefty tip - likely wanting to show they’re, at the very least, wealthy enough to tip 20% on a $100 tab and not have it hurt their pockets, or to prove that they respect waitresses enough to help you pay your rent. They’re always the tables you’re desperate to serve, not only for the tip they leave you but because you love getting a clue as to how the date goes, and most times it’s good. Once, you’d heard the guy’s date inquire about kids before their meals came, and they’d left barely minutes after paying their bill. Another time, a couple had arrived at 6 and hadn’t left until 11 on a Thursday night - nearly two hours after closing, and you’d nearly had to shoo them out the door when they weren’t going fast enough.

It varies often, but still - first date couples are your favourite, and when you see him walk up to the host stand, you know he’s another one.

The uncomfortableness is what tips you off, fiddling with one of the numerous rings on his finger as he leans back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting behind an elderly couple hoping to grab a table outdoors for some drinks. He’s dressed well, tucking a loose curl behind his ear and rolling up his sleeves and when he makes it up he’s confirming a reservation f’two, under th’name Harry Styles, please. And the girl at the host stand - the youngest host your boss has hired, you reckon, though you’d need to fact check it to be sure - picks up her pen and crosses his name out in the reservation book, a thick line running through his information and phone number before she’s grabbing a stack of menus (specials, wine, beer, and general, respectively) and telling him to follow me this way, sir as she leads him outside.

Well, you don’t see exactly where Brianna takes him before you remember the four waters that table 306 had asked for, and it’s not like you to get distracted like that by a customer - you’ve been a waitress for nearly three years since starting college and yet, no patron has ever caught your eye like Mr. Harry Styles. It’s a damn paradox, really - you only see attractive guys like him when they’re on dates and, by that point, they’re spoken for. There’s no room for you to mosey in and you wouldn’t do that to another girl, anyway, but still. You suppose it doesn’t matter (he looks wealthy enough to leave a good tip with or without a date, truthfully) but it still has you sighing as you grab four glasses, scooping ice into them and beginning to fill them with water.

Distraction is a bad look on a waitress, your manager had told you the last time you’d gotten distracted by a pretty girl and nearly dropped the plate of pasta you were holding. It makes your smile seem forced. And that was the first month you’d started working, before you’d realized that most customers treated the staff like objects to use to make themselves look or feel better - you’d seldom had to use her advice since then. But there’s a first - or second - time for everything, isn’t there? And he is your second time.

 --

 After you’ve delivered your waters, though, you’re made uncomfortably aware of the fact that Brianna had, indeed, seated Harry in your section. And it isn’t a bad thing, per se, except he is the most attractive man you’ve ever met and you can only imagine what his date is going to look like when they show up - probably dressed to the nines like he is, just a tad too fancy for an establishment like this and you’re sure you’ll feel insecure in your work-issued shirt and jeans but you suppose there’s nothing to do about it.

You try not to make it too obvious as you fix your hair, tying your ponytail higher up onto your head because it had been slipping down and you’re really not a huge fan of low ponytails. Normally you don’t mind but - sometimes the circumstances change. 

He’s at table 305, leaning over his phone, fingers drumming against the table when you walk over to him, clutching two coasters in your hands and he looks up at you with a smile as you approach. And it’s easy - giving the same introductory speech you’ve given thousands of times before, telling him your name and how I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. “Can I get you started with something to drink?” you question, eyes flickering inconspicuously to the empty seat across from him. He’d pulled it out slightly, angling it out towards the sidewalk in clear anticipation of when his date enters so she can gracefully sit down without having to make a fuss about pulling the chair out - so he’s a gentleman, and it only worsens your moral dilemma at the situation. 

“I’ll jus’ have a water, f’now,” he responds, smiling up at you and you nod, reaching down to rest one coaster in front of him and the other in front of the other seat. “M’waiting f’someone - then I’ll get somethin’ else.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, giving him a smile as if you had no idea he was waiting for someone when, in fact, you’d known the second he walked through the doors. Quickly your eyes dart up and down the sidewalk, checking to see if anyone’s walking with their sights set on your restaurant but there’s nobody - perhaps she’s late, or he’s early, but it’s not your place to speculate anyway. “I’ll be right out with that.”

And so you make your way back inside - you have to stop at table 303 because their daughter, so small her legs barely hang off the seat she’s sitting in, has finished her Coke and wants another and you take their dish of risotto balls with you, practically licked clean (in your opinion, they’re the best appetizers on the menu, and you’ve tried just about everything.) 301 got up, leaving nearly half a plate of polpo sitting there and a full untouched bottle of wine and you can recall them specifically declining your request to take their plates earlier, claiming they were still picking at it and clearly they changed their mind - but Brianna’s rushing out to clean everything up before you tell her to, and that’s good of her. She’s new - it’s always good to see the new workers doing well. You’ll tell your manager the next time you see her, you reckon, though you hope it’s not too soon. And then 306 waves you down, seconds away from screaming for you to notice them because the man wants some red pepper flakes to sprinkle onto his pizza and it all stacks up in your mind, but you just smile and nod and turn to rush inside before anyone else can flag you down.

You don’t notice Harry’s eyes on you, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

One Coke and one dish of red pepper flakes later and you’re returning to Harry’s table, resting his drink on his coaster. It’s barely been two minutes since he last requested the water and his initial look of hope and excitement hasn’t faded, even when his eyes flicker down to his phone as though to check for a notification when he thanks you for the water.

Oh, well. Dates are late all the time, and you don’t have time to ponder on it as 304 noisily stacks their plates on top of each other, and you swoop over to grab them before taking them inside. No, it certainly isn’t your place to wonder about the status of his date because you know that you’ve been late to dates too many times than you should’ve, what with classes and work and everything else you have to do in life. You barely have time to date anymore - when you’re not studying so late you can barely keep your eyes open you’re picking up shifts, working your ass off for a paycheck that goes straight to your landlord. You hardly even hang out with your friends anymore and you’re not sure if it’s a healthy sacrifice, giving up your friends to work and study and get far less sleep than the average 22 year old but you don’t quite have a choice, do you?

Maybe his date is in the same situation - you can’t fault her for it. It certainly makes her more relatable to you.

 --

 It’s been fifteen minutes and Harry still sits on his own, nails tapping against his phone screen, turning his head to glance up and down the sidewalk like you had before but there’s no one there to join him. Part of you feels bad as you rest a plate of mozzarella agnolotti in front of the two men at 302 and they dig into it like fucking heathens who haven’t eaten in months, and when you tell them to enjoy they call out thank you with their mouths full, bits of food flying onto the table, and you feel bad for when one of the hostesses has to clean it later.

It’s times like this that you’re thankful to be a waitress and not a host. Those times are few and far between, but they still come.

303 got their entrees and 304 has their check and you don’t have an excuse not to stop back at Harry’s table, even if feeling his eyes on you has your stomach turning and your face heating. Hopefully he can’t notice (and you have gotten fairly skilled at hiding your emotions with a wide smile that’s just about as fake as they come) and your prayers seem to answer themselves when you walk to his table, ducking beneath the umbrella that hangs above the two-top and meeting his eyes.

“You want a refill on that water?” You ask, motioning with a nod down towards his half-empty glass. It’s certainly not low enough to warrant bringing out the water pitcher but you’ll deal with the hassle - going table to table asking if they need refills and all the other shit you have to do because it seems discriminatory when you only offer it to one table. 

He looks up at his glass, tilting his head and screwing up his eyes as though he really needs time to decide whether he needs more water before shaking his head, curls flopping in front of his face as he pulls his glass closer to him. “S’alright.”

“Is your date running late?” And the second the words are out of your mouth you want to smack yourself - you know it’s unprofessional to comment like that especially when it’s that fucking obvious that you’re right. You may as well have asked him if the sky is blue, or if the time really is 6:15. Irrefutable facts are embarrassing to state aloud, especially when it would get you a stern talking to if your manager were to overhear.

But Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it, nor does he seem fazed by your sudden expression like you’d just bit into a lemon. In fact, he takes the comment in stride, resting his palms on the tabletop as he squints up at you - the sun shines behind you and you’re sure it’s in his eyes, and the fact that he took the sunny seat just adds another reason to consider him perfect. “Yeah, she is,” he confesses, twiddling with his rings again, and it’s nearly impossible not to drop your gaze to his fingers and watch him go. “But - y’know - she’s a nurse, an’ all that. Probably just had t’work late an’ forgot t’text. S’alright.”

You’re not sure what to say to that and for a second you stand there in silence as Harry taps his phone, surely checking to see if he’d received a text that hadn’t lit up his phone with the notification but there’s nothing except for the lockscreen - a blurry shot of a black and white cat, face close to the camera and tongue sticking out just so. Instead you clear your throat before saying, “I’ll go grab you some olives.”

“Olives?”

“Yeah - we give everyone assorted olives.” And suddenly, it sounds stupid, like giving your customers olives is something embarrassing when, in fact, it’s customary, but Harry’s looking at you with a certain curiosity, eyes bemused as if you’re entertaining him. “They’re actually quite good. I’m sure you’d like them.”

(In truth, you tried the olives once and had hated them, but you tell your customers that every single thing your restaurant offers is your favourite and the olives are no exception.)

“Oh.” Harry shrugs, then, leaning back in his seat as you duck back out from under his umbrella. “Well, if y’say so, m’sure I’ll like ‘em.”

You smile in agreement and there’s nothing left to add so you head towards the door, wiping your palms on your apron the second you’re inside. You’re sure you’ve had that exact conversation about olives of all things with ten other customers since you’ve worked here but it feels so different with him and it nearly scares you. There’s no reason you should feel so conflicted about a patron on a date who you’ve never met nor seen before but you suppose some things truly are unexplainable.

306 is ready for their check and as you grab a ramekin full of assorted olives you call to ask Brianna to print it out - there’s nobody at the door, anyway, and you need to find an empty dish for the olives, anyway. When you’ve got that and stashed the check in your apron you head back out and Harry’s sitting craning his neck glancing down the sidewalk and you hope, for his sake, that he’s right and she just got caught up at work. (And, for your own very selfish sake, you hope she doesn’t come.)

“I’ve got some olives for you,” you tell him, resting the two ramekins on the table in front of him and he glances down at them with an air of disgust that you most certainly relate to, and your face nearly splits open in a grin. “Well, they’re complimentary, anyway, so if you don’t like them, it’s not too big of a deal.”

“They look divine,” he says, and you know he’s lying but it still makes you smile. “I’ll tell y’how they are.”

“I’ll be waiting,” and that sounds like such a schoolgirl crush response and your face briefly tightens in a cringe before you walk off to 306, pulling their check out and depositing it on their table. None of them even drank their waters that they requested - assholes.

 --

 Holy shit.

You’re really feeling for Harry, now. There’s a new young couple sitting at 301 (certainly not on a first date, you’ll add), holding hands across the table and giggling loudly and they don’t break eye contact even when they place their wine order, and when your eyes flicker over to where Harry’s sitting he’s watching them with an expression that looks just a little like envy. The men at 302 lean over and share a kiss over their pasta and you wish it were socially acceptable to ask every single couple not to fucking look at each other until his date arrives because you can tell it’s killing him - and suddenly, you’re wishing you hadn’t manifested his date not showing up. You’d rather feel the slight tinge of jealousy at watching him woo a girl than feel your stomach turn with every minute that passes without someone taking a seat across from him.

You can practically see the hope leaving his body as a half hour goes by since he’d arrived and he’s still sitting alone, tapping his nails against the condensation that had formed against his glass of water, feet tapping the sidewalk beneath him. The olives sit untouched in their ramekin except for one lonely green out that sits, half eaten, in the empty one you’d given him and after you’ve finished grating parmesan cheese over 301’s calamari and bruschetta, you wrap the cheese back up in its napkin before making your way over to him, ducking beneath the umbrella and sending him a smile that he reciprocates, albeit smaller than it had been before.

“Do you want to put in an appetizer to be here when she arrives?” you ask, pulling your pad and pen out of your apron and watching as he glances down at the menu he clutches in his hands. You know what the answer’s going to be before you’ve even asked the question but it’s unbearable watching him sit doing nothing, and you’re sure he’s hungry. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to eat before a date though you’re not totally positive what kind of guy would - anyway, it’s easy realize he’s yearning for food by the way he’d been sucking on his straw just moments before when you’d been taking 301’s appetizer order, even though all that’s left in his glass are a few measly ice cubes.

“S’fine,” he insists. “I don’t want t’order somethin’ and then have her not like it - y’know?” And he trails his finger along the appetizer section of the menu as if to showcase the amount of options, chest rising and falling in a sigh. You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile as you shut your notepad and slide it and your pen into your apron, smoothing your palms over the front of it again.

“Yeah, I know.”

Then he pushes the olives away from him, ramekins sliding against the tabletop and you grin as you look down at them before glancing back up at him, raising your eyebrows with mock surprise. “I guess you didn’t like the olives, then.”

Harry shakes his head, bringing a hand up to wipe his hair out of his eyes and you almost want to recommend that he put his hair in a ponytail (it seems to get in the way of a lot of stuff for him) but, truthfully, you love seeing his hair down. It looks so soft and luscious and you’re sure it smells spectacular, though you’ll never truly know. “I hated them,” he confesses, and you miss the way his lips turn into a smile as you giggle, sticking the full ramekin into the empty one to make it easier to carry. “D’you seriously like ‘em? They’re horrid.”

You’re supposed to say yes, but you can’t lie to him - not when he’s already having a rough night. “I don’t like them, either,” you agree, scrunching your nose as you look down at the variously coloured olives in your hands. “But, according to my manager, I love everything at this restaurant.”

He laughs at that - a genuine one, too, tossing his head back so his hair falls off his shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. He’s contagious in every sense of the word and you’ve never met anyone like that - you’re smiling with him and feeling your heart break for him all at the same time and you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced it before. “Well, s’good t’know,” Harry says when he’s stopped laughing, swirling his straw around his glass so the ice cubes clink together. “I’ll take your advice wit’ a grain f’salt, shouldn’t I.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” you insist. “You’re special.” Your tone is teasing and to anyone listening in it’s clearly a joke but you gnaw on your tongue after the words are out anyway - he just smiles down at the table, scratching the surface with his nails.

“M’glad.” And your eyes scan the rest of your tables on instinct - 306 is up and there’s a stack of plates at 303 that you need to bring inside, but if it were up to you, you’d spend the rest of your day ducked into Harry’s umbrella, listening to him speak. But - well - you’re not being paid to talk to a pretty boy, most unfortunately, and you step out from under his covering to check out your other tables when - “Wait!”

You turn back around and Harry’s leaning back, holding his hand over his eyes to look at you and you take a step back over to him, bending down ever so slightly so you can hear him over the shitty music your boss insists on playing too loud to your outdoor guests. “Could I have a coke, please?” he questions, and you nod. “Thanks.”

Your other tables can wait - you scurry back inside, heading to the service station because you’d rather die than make him wait an extra second longer for his coke. Lauren - the other waitress on duty tonight - stands unwrapping a cheesecake to prepare for one of her tables and she looks at you with an arched eyebrow. “Who were you talking to?”

You shrug and you hope it isn’t painfully clear how your heartbeat thumps against your chest like a damn drum. “Just the guy at 305.”

“Oh.” Lauren pauses where she’s mixing the tupperware container of homemade whip cream to place on the cheesecake as you fill your glass with ice. “What’s his deal?”

“I think he’s being stood up,” you tell her.

 --

 Your suspicion is confirmed the next time you drop by Harry’s table, when he’s chugged his entire Coke and the rest of his water and he simply sits there, scrolling on his phone, and it’s like you can see how his battery has drained.

“Hey,” you call, voice soft as though you’re talking to a child, but you need to assess how upset he is about the situation before speaking in any other manner. You’d made the mistake before, started chatting too cheerfully to a lady being stood up and she’d shouted at you, called you a wench and a bastard and all other sorts of names you couldn’t recall before storming out, leaving a $20 for her three glasses of wine.

It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“Has she texted you?” you ask, motioning down towards his phone. It’s certainly not allowed to speak to customers in such a casual manner about things other than the menu and whether they’d like to split the check but nobody’s around to reprimand you for bending the rules a bit - why not? 

He shakes his head - it’s what you’d expected but your heart still aches for him and you wish you could reach out, perhaps give him a hug if he’d want it or listen to him rant about the situation. Anything to make him feel better. “S’okay,” he insists, and to his defense he can play the part well. Doesn’t seem entirely too torn up about it and he’s looking at you like you’re a friend rather than his waitress and it makes you feel comfortable. “But - f’you don’t mind - can I order an appetizer now?” You smile, already fishing for your notepad and your pen (a sparkly black one, just for the sake of being fun.) You’re glad he’s getting something and if his date happens to show up, she’d ought to eat whatever he chooses simply as an apology for being over a goddamn hour late. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite?”

The question takes you by surprise but you regain composure quickly, feeling your face and neck heat up because Harry’s staring at you as though you’re some sort of God - like you hold the answer to the meaning of life instead of the best thing on the menu and it makes you feel good. Appreciated. “I love the risotto balls,” you admit, shifting to stand next to him so you can trace your finger along the menu in his hands, pointing to the very first appetizer listed on the page. “And the shrimp and broccoli rabe is delicious.”

“I hope you’re not lying t’me.”

“I told you,” you begin, meeting his small smile with a wider one of your own and it achieves its desired effect - his spreads wider, and you wonder if he thinks that you’re as contagious as you consider him to be. “I’ll never lie to you.”

“And why’s that?”

He’s full of questions. “Because you’re a nice customer.” It’s sort of the truth, though you think you’d scare him away if you told him the full entire truth is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve laid eyes on in your life. “When some customers are assholes, I tell them to get the vongole - it’s horrible.”

He raises his eyebrows at that with another grin, resting his menu down on the table and gazing up at you with his full attention. “Well, I trust you. I’ll get the risotto balls, in tha’ case. An’ then - whenever she gets here, I’ll get something else.”

You murmur sounds good and you don’t have to write it down in your notepad to remember it. You’d nearly gotten carried away with the conversation, nearly forgotten that he’s being fucking stood up and probably doesn’t want you to flirt with him like an idiot because you’re sure acting like one. God, no other waitresses act like this with their customers and you really, truly never have before - yet it’s something about him. You can’t fucking help yourself.

You take his Coke to refill it - he doesn’t ask and you won’t charge him for it. He simply deserves it, and you think that’s reason enough to bring the glass back inside, fill it to the top with soda and deliver it back on top of his coaster the next time you go outside to make your rounds. Harry’s appreciative, naturally, and has no reason to question why you gave him another drink to begin with. For all he knows, your restaurant has free refills, and you’ll let him think that. There’s no reason to make him pay for another drink - he’s having a bad enough day already - even though, when you’d glanced down at the watch adorning his wrist as you’d given him his drink and seen that it’s Gucci. 

No amount of money can buy a first date, you suppose, and you hate yourself for thinking it. You’d give him a first date. A million, in fact. And it’ll never happen but you can certainly dream, and you hope it doesn’t show in your eyes as the men at 302 order a panna cotta and cheesecake for dessert - 301 is digging into their pizza, looking so hopelessly in love with each other, and you catch Harry looking at them again.

The risotto balls are ready for him when you’ve delivered the desserts to 302, and you grab the plate and a block of parmesan and head right out to him. His eyes are on you the moment you step out the door, gaze looking ravenous and he’s most certainly just excited for his appetizer but you still let his watchful eye make your stomach turn.

No parmesan cheese for him - well, that’s fine. You tuck the block under your arm and tell him to enjoy, and he tells you he most certainly will before digging in and it only confirms your suspicion that he was fucking starving. In fact, by the time you’ve finished chatting to 304 about how delicious their gamberetti pizza was, one of the balls on the plate is gone and he’s staring at the second one like a man dying of hunger, but he doesn’t touch it. Surely waiting for his date to arrive to feast on it while he can talk about how nervous he was that she wasn’t going to show up that he was even entertaining the flirtatious waitress.

Gentleman.

 --

 The next twenty minutes are a blur - 304 is up and two tables in Lauren’s section are, too, and you don’t have much else to do so you help Brianna clear and wipe and set them all. By the time you’ve finished and returned the hostess’s grateful smile 302 wants more drinks and a chocolate mousse to split, and you pick up their empty panna cotta and cheesecake dishes and rush them back inside. 301 decides they want their check and they look like they’ve gotten into some sort or argument and you’re almost glad - though you’re sure they’ll be too angry to leave a good tip, you’ll take it if it means it may make Harry feel a bit better about being alone.

It’s 8:15 PM the next time you risk a glance at your phone. Only forty five minutes until you close and there haven’t been any new table sat for the better half of twenty minutes and you pray it stays that way - or, at the very least, they go to Lauren’s section instead of yours. Brianna is clearing 301 (they got up and left in a hurry and, as you’d expected, your tip is a few measly dollars) and your other tables have no need for your assistance yet so you make a beeline to Harry’s table the second you get outside and he’s watching you, sad smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“How were the risotto balls?” you inquire, drumming your fingers against his table. It’s a silly question because anyone with eyes can see how he’d gobbled half of the appetizer up, the other still untouched in their bowl of sauce, ricotta lazily tossed on top of it. You’re sure it’s cold now but you don’t quite mind them when they’re chilly - may even taste better than having them sizzling hot. “Looks like you liked them.”

He nods, pushing the plate away from him as though he can’t stand to be near it. “It’s really good,” Harry tells you and pats himself firmly on the stomach twice to prove it. It’s a silly motion that brings a smile to your lips anyway and you really, truly can’t help it. “M’gonna save the other one f’when she gets here.”

Hope is a good thing to have, you decide, and he’s clearly still holding onto it. You’d never been stood up before but you’re sure you’d have given up on the idea of a first date long before he had and you applaud him internally for that - he’s patient and kind and understanding, you decide. Much more tolerant than anyone else you know would be in this sort of situation and it only adds to the growing desire you have for him, but you push it down - for the sake of professionalism. “Well, that’s nice,” you tell him and he smiles, the expression tight and complimentary. “Can I get you anything else?”

“M’good,” Harry says, “but - can y’show me where the bathroom is inside?” He motions with one swirling finger to the empty glasses in front of him and his grin looks rather embarrassed when he looks back up to you. “Think I drank m’drinks a bit too fast.”

You laugh out loud at that and if he notices that your giggling goes on for just a beat longer than  appropriate, he doesn’t acknowledge it and wow, don’t you feel like a damn schoolgirl with a crush. Laughing at his joke-that-wasn’t-a-joke and feeling your face burn up when you look at him and having your stomach turn when he stands up to follow you into the restaurant and holy hell, he’s tall. You feel embarrassed walking in with him behind you because you’re not sure what he’s looking at, and what if you have a stain on your jeans? Or the back of your shirt? He’s dressed so nice and your face is fucking flaming and you avoid eye contact with Lauren as you point him towards the restroom.

“Thanks, love,” he says, voice thick and heavy as he maneuvers through the indoor tables to get to the restroom and you send him off with a small wave - just a jerk of your hand - and the second he’s out of sight you wipe your palms on your apron again.

Lauren’s making a cappuccino and so you flock over to her, naturally. You can tell she just redid her ponytail because it sits higher on her head and you think you should do that too, so you pull your black scrunchie out of your hair and work on assembling it into a better ponytail.

“That’s the guy from 305, isn’t it?” she questions.

“The guy I took to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh - yeah.” You swallow, bending down to glance into the metal of the espresso machine to see your blurred reflection, making sure your ponytail is as smooth as possible before tying it up. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s nice.”

She hums softly, grabbing a small spoon and stirring the coffee once then twice before resting it inside the cup, already reaching for another cup to begin another. “Are you sure he’s being stood up?”

You scrunch up your nose, leaning back against the counter and tilting your head in slight confusion. “I’m pretty positive - he’s been here for, like, an hour and 15 minutes waiting for a girl and he’s still hopeful that she’s going to come.” And then you sigh, the noise overly dramatic and your coworker rolls her eyes. “Why?”

“He was checking you out, babe.”

You raise your eyebrows, head turning to the side so fast you swear you nearly get whiplash as you stare at Lauren. She simply stands, making her cappuccino as if she hadn’t just blew you away with her observation and you’re sure it meant nothing but it still has your heart thumping violently against your chest and you exhale. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Girl, I was watching - he was. His eyes never left your ass. He almost ran into the door, too.”

“You’re lying.” “Why would I lie? He’s cute, isn’t he? Aren’t you happy?”

“Laur, he’s being stood up. I know he is. He’s not focusing on my ass - he’s probably crying in the bathroom right now.”

She laughs at that, hooking her finger in the handles of the two cappuccinos, steam billowing from both of them like a fire. “Well, maybe he is being stood up, but - I swear to god - he’s into you.” And then she’s walking back down the aisle between tables to reach the front of the restaurant, headed out the door without another glance as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you and you stare after her, mouth agape and palms sweating and you wipe them on your apron once more.

 --

 Harry returns to his seat and, for a while, you don’t check on him.

He seems fine, anyway. Decently enough. Sure, his drinks are still empty  in front of him and he leaves that one risotto ball alone and, every so often, he glances up and down the sidewalk before bringing his gaze back down to his phone but it doesn’t quite look like he needs anything.

Anyway, it’s 8:30. Even if she shows up they wouldn’t be able to stay very long and, no matter what, he deserves a fulfilling first date. Maybe she did get caught at work and, when he leaves, they’ll laugh about it. Reschedule it for a different day where he picks her up from her house, and then who knows? Maybe they’ll go ice skating or see a movie. And this entire situation will be something they’ll laugh out and forget and they’ll probably get fucking married, with your luck.

You’d be happy for him, of course. And even though you’ll likely never speak to him again after he leaves for the night, you do want the best for him, though you think the best for him would be you and not some girl who stood him up with no text.

303 is gone after spending entirely too long sitting and chatting and you wave them off with a goodbye and a bright smile, grabbing their check just as Brianna runs out to begin clearing it off. Full glasses of water are dumped into the plants and you help her bring them inside before going to deposit the check - it’s a nice tip and you’re thankful. They’d been a kind enough table but sometimes those are the type to screw you over with the tip and you’re beyond glad they hadn’t - you’ve had a strange enough night without the added weight of no tip.

You head back outside with 302’s check and drop it at their table, returning their grateful smile with one of your own. There’s nowhere else to go or visit besides 305 and so you head over to him, ducking underneath his umbrella for what seems like the thousandth time that day and it’s then that you can see his face, ever so slightly crestfallen as he stares at his phone and your heart just about drops into your ass, and without a second thought you pull out the empty seat across from him and sit.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and you’re fairly certain you already know, but there’s no shame in inquiring further - his phone is clutched in his hand and he looks up at you before clearing his throat and that’s enough confirmation for you.

“She’s out wit’ her friends - they’re at a bar.” And, as if to prove it to you, he slides his phone across the table to you and you crane your neck to glance down at the screen and it’s an Instagram story - a boomerang of four girls clinking their drinks together, and you scrunch your nose. “She’s the one on the right.”

The one on the right is decently pretty - blonde hair straightened and falling down her back, drink spilling over the edges of her glass when she clicks it too enthusiastically with her friends. Her dress is tight and sparkly and nearly overpowers the entire story and you can already make your mind up about how you feel about her and, needless to say, it isn’t good.

“Oh.” You watch the boomerang for another couple of seconds before pushing his phone back over to him and he gives you a tight lipped grin. “I’m sorry, Harry. That really sucks.”

“S’alright.” He shrugs and you can tell it isn’t alright but you don’t say anything else until he adds, “I wasn’t tha’ into her, anyway. M’friend wanted to set us up. I guess she wasn’t really into it but - I wasn’t either. S’all fair.”

Your heart hurts for him - she wasn’t into it but you know he was and before you can think to stop yourself you reach over, resting your hand over his and holy shit. You shouldn’t do that. He can lie and say he doesn’t mind but you know he does and you’re still his fucking waitress - you shouldn’t touch him like you’ve known him any longer than two hours. Just as you go to pull away with a frenzied apology he’s turning his hand around so your palms are pressed together and then he squeezes your hand with a soft sigh and you’re nearly paralyzed at the motion.

It can’t be more than a few seconds that you two sit like that, his hand tight around yours and you can hardly breathe, heart thumping in your chest before he says, “What time d’you close?”

“Uh -” you clear your throat just as he releases your hand and you withdraw it immediately - your hands are sweating and you press them on the table. “We close at 9, but - I only have one more table, and they’re about to leave … so …”

“What else d’you have t’do?”

“All my closing stuff,” you begin, sticking up your fingers as you list each one. “I need to roll silverware, get ice, put the glasses away, take the trash from the bathroom. And then I’ll probably get something to eat.”

Harry nods, gazing almost wistfully into the night as though he’s some sort of philosopher and you lean in, waiting to hear whatever he has to say next - “Could y’eat with me when y’get your food? If y’don’t mind.” And it takes you a moment to react as he adds, “S’just - you’re nice t’talk to, an’ all tha’. But y’don’t have to.”

You swallow thickly, already feeling your stomach flipping and your knee jiggling and you nod - first a quick jerk of your head, up and down, and then faster. 302 is arranging their stuff to leave, grabbing their boxes and shoving their credit cards into their pockets and you wish you could tell them to get the hell out because you can’t start closing until they leave and now you really have a motivation to leave. “Yeah. That - that sounds good.”

It sounds more than good, in fact, and you don’t even care if you’re some sort of rebound to him in this moment - you’ll take it. You’ll eat your dinner with him and then whatever comes after - you don’t care. You just want tonight, or, at the very least, right now, and anything after that is simply a bonus and you’ll deal with it later because he wants to eat with you. He wants to hang out with you. He likes you, and maybe even in that way, too.

You’re standing up uncomfortably fast, nearly tripping over the seat you’d inhabited as you rub your palms together. “Well - um. My other table is getting ready to leave, so I’m gonna - gonna start doing my stuff.”

“Sounds good,” and he’s so casual with it that it sends heat blazing up your cheeks, and you turn to head back inside with a newly found skip in your step that’s too full of joy to be embarrassing.

Brianna’s already begun the silverware when you get inside - with only 2 tables left, there’s no need for her to stay, but you tell her that you’ll roll if she does the other closing duties and she accepts because she’s horrific at rolling silverware. They’re always loose and lumpy and too big or too small and none of you want to tell her because it’s easier to just make pretend like it’s your favorite closing duty to do - well, whatever. She’s gone downstairs to get a bucket of ice before she can ponder on your insistence and you settle in your seat, grabbing a knife and two forks and resting them in the middle of your linen to begin to roll.

You have the motion down nearly to an instinct and it gives you time to glance outside. Through the windows you can see just the side profile of Harry’s face, only slightly illuminated by his phone screen as his lips wrap around his straw, surely sucking on the dissolved ice cubes in one of his glasses and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest - you nearly drop a fork when you go to begin a new roll.

 --

 Your pasta is ready entirely too soon.

You’re finished rolling silverware and the ice is filled and the bathrooms are stocked and clean but you hadn’t emotionally prepared yourself enough to eat with him. But your fettuccine sits, steaming on the counter ready for you to pick up and you stab the ticket once you’ve confirmed it’s yours, grabbing the burning hot plate with your one hand and grabbing a spoon with the other.

You can still see Harry’s side profile when you peer out the window and he’s glancing around, eyes darting from the sidewalk to the door as though he’s waiting for you and you know you can’t keep him alone for another second, so you inhale a deep sigh and walk out the door, pasta in hand.

He just about perks up when he sees you, back straightening and dropping his phone onto the table. You swear he’s about to get up and pull the chair out for you, too, but you beat him to it - duck underneath the umbrella and rest your plate on the table, slipping into your chair with ease and a soft cough into your fist.

(You’re not sick - not in the slightest. It just alleviates your stress, you suppose. Eliminates some awkward silence.)

“Hey,” Harry says, elbows resting on the table so he can look at you in full and you can already feel your body flaming as you pick up your spoon, sifting it through the thick pasta on your plate. Alfredo - God, it’s your favorite. You’ve been trying to branch out and try more things on the menu but it always takes you back to your damn fettuccine alfredo. “I hope this isn’t weird.”

“It’s not weird,” you insist, collecting a spoonful of pasta and bringing it to your mouth. The smell is intoxicating and you pause when the spoon is just an inch from your mouth. “I’m sure you had a rough night.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat as you take a bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as though you’re pondering something important. “It wasn’t too rough,” he tells you, and you raise your eyebrows. “It would’ve been bad - but you helped.”

“Really?”

“Sure y’did.” You take another spoonful of fettuccine as he continues. “It sucks t’be stood up, but you were nice.”

“I could tell you were upset.”

“An’ you couldn’t tell you were makin’ it better?”

You think for a moment - think back on the countless interactions you’d had with the near-stranger sitting across from you, pulling the plate with one lone risotto ball over to him - and then shake your head. “I just thought you were being sweet.”

He laughs, reaching for his abandoned fork resting on the side of the plate and cutting in to the second risotto ball - you can tell how much he’d been longing to eat it simply from the expression on his face when he takes the first bite - with a shrug. “Sure I was,” and you laugh at that, ripping the piece of bread on the side of your plate and half and dipping it in the sauce, “but you must’ve realized I like you - didn’t you?”

“Well, I did think it was curious that you held my hand.”

“Y’did it first.”

“Well, the technicalities don’t matter.”

It brings a grin to your face to hear Harry laugh at you, curls flopping in his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he chews on a particularly large bite of his risotto ball. Your pasta is already nearly gone (you’d vastly underestimated how hungry you were) and you scrape the sides of the plate with your bread, collecting all of the excess sauce on the dough. “Was feeling a bit guilty,” you confess, drumming your fingertips on the tabletop, and he tilts his head at you, “‘cause I was starting to feel a bit thankful you got stood up.”

For a moment you wonder if you’d said the wrong thing - if you’ve ruined this entire thing before it’s even started, because it’s an uncomfortably real risk -, but then he’s reaching out to rest his hand overtop of yours and your body overflows with relief. “I agree,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand, and you swallow. “Y’had me prayin’ she wasn’t going to show up.”

You smile, looking down at the table and your empty plate and his half eaten risotto ball that he’s already taking another bite of and it all seems so surreal - like you’re going to wake up in your bed an hour before your shift starts, cursing yourself out for creating such an immersive reality - but nothing about his touch on yours is fake. It’s all so spectacular - so real - and you exhale. “We’re closing in 5 minutes,” you tell him, and his eyebrows scrunch together like he’s seen something he regrets. “Reckon we should take this someplace else?” “Someplace else?”

Your stomach flips and you wonder for what feels like the millionth time this evening if you’d made a mistake - read him wrong - took things too far. It’s an unfortunate habit you have and you certainly wouldn’t be shocked if you’ve put your foot in it this early into the relationship - you’ll regret it, but you regret a lot of things. In a couple of weeks, you’ll forget about it, won’t you? You’ve done it before. But you simply shrug, motioning with your free hand to the empty tables among you both. “I live - um - a couple blocks up the road. If you want to come over. And - it’s fine if you don’t - just putting it out there.”

Harry stares at you, expression nearly blank, for a beat too long and you shift in your seat - but then there’s a smile stretching across his face, and he pushes his half-eaten risotto ball in towards the center of the table. “That sounds perfect,” he tells you, and your heart thumps in your chest once more.

 --

 For the record, you hadn’t anticipated having anyone over to your apartment tonight, and it shows.

There’s dirty dishes from the previous two days piled in the sink, shoes strewn all over the entryway and when you peer your head into the sitting room, your pajamas are strewn over the couch next the wine stain you’d spent hours trying to scrub out. Your face burns as you turn the lights on and Harry steps inside, head turning left and right as he examines your living space and you wish you’d cleaned up after yourself before you left for work - you’ve been meaning to do the dishes - why hadn’t you done them?

“It’s - um - not much,” you begin, shutting and locking the door firmly behind you and motioning with your arms to the entirety of your apartment. “And it’s kind of dirty. I just didn’t expect anyone to come here, or I would’ve fixed it up a bit.”

He smiles, peering at the photos adorning your walls. “Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he insists, bringing his finger up to trail along the high school graduation photo you’d taken with all of your friends until he spots you, smack in the middle, holding up your diploma with a wide grin - you don’t speak to half of the people in that photo anymore, but you love it. Love reminiscing on a time before college and work and rent, where you could just relax with your friends. “Y’look awfully pretty in this photo.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, clasping your hands behind your back as you watch Harry examine each photo. None of them are interesting enough to warrant his level of attention and you’re sure he’s simply trying to be polite but you still appreciate it - it’s nice to imagine that he has that much interest in a photo your mother had taken of you and your dog on a hike. “Do you want me to - to pour some wine or something?”

“That’s alright,” he says, turning around to face you and you glance up at him with a soft smile as he rests his hand on your shoulder, fingertips trailing up and down your arm and sending goosebumps popping up over your skin. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt like this about a boy and it’s making you fucking crazy, torn between wanting to wrap your arms around him or have him bend you over the counter - you can’t quite decide. 

“Alright.” You roll on the balls of your feet as Harry steps into your kitchen, leaning against the counter with an air of casual arrogance and adoration as he stares down at you. You pad into the kitchen behind him and press your palms to the countertop, lifting yourself up to sit beside him, and you hum softly. “Well - we could talk, then.”

“Y’wanna talk?”

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

He hums at that, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and you watch him, breath caught in your throat, as he pushes himself from the counter, doing nearly a full spin before landing directly in front of you and your knees part to allow him in between them like an instinct - your face heats as he pushes himself closer to you, thighs closing around his waist. “Y’seem nervous,” he says, palms pressing to the counter on either side of your body and you inhale a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I’m not nervous,” you tell him, even if it’s a little white lie. “I just haven’t done this in a while -” and that isn’t a lie in the slightest.

“Ah,” and then Harry nods like some sort of therapist, hands already dropping to your waist, fingertips scratching at zipper of your jeans as if testing the waters. “An’ you’re sure y’want this?”

“I’m positive - please, Harry, I really want this. Wanted this from - from the second I saw you.”

It’s all the approval he needs, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans with ease and you loop your arms around his neck, using him as leverage to lift your hips up and he pulls your jeans off and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up by your knees. The next step is your panties, so damp you can tell he feels it through the fabric when he pressed his fingers against you and your hips jerk into his hands, dropping your head into his shoulder as he exhales.

“I’ll go slow,” he tells you, voice low and raspy and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make it sound like that or if it just naturally happens - well, you can’t decide which one is hotter, truthfully. “Jus’ wanna make y’feel good, love.”

“Mhm,” you nod, gnawing on your bottom lip as Harry hooks two fingers in the crotch part of your panties, pulling them to the side and the cold air of your apartment hits your cunt in a way that has your breathing picking up and he pauses, fingers so dangerously close to where you need them. You know he’s going to ask if you’re okay - if you want him to stop - and you don’t, not by a fucking long shot, and you push your hips into his hand as way of answering his unasked question.

Harry takes the hint, of course. He isn’t stupid.

Two fingers circle your clit, spreading your moisture along the sensitive nub like he’s been wanting to do it all fucking night - there’s some sort of desperation to his movements that has your legs tightening around him, head burying further into his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around one of your thighs, hoisting it further up his waist. His breathing is hot against your head as his digits slide up and down your folds and you’re not sure if he’s attempting to tease you or not but, no matter, it’s working. You’re ready to get on your knees and beg for him if you need to, but just as the thought crosses your mind, his fingers dip down to slide in between your folds.

A soft moan emits from your throat as his hand smooths up and down your thigh, fingers dipping just barely into your cunt before pulling out - and he does it a few times, giving you a bit of what you want and then tearing it away and you whine, thrusting your hips into his hands and Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head before sliding his fingers inside of you. Two to start, just to ease you in, pushing them in slow and steady until you can feel his cool rings pressed against your pussy and you throw your head back with a moan.

He pauses, lip still between his teeth as he stares at you, your chest heaving beneath him and body fucking quivering in his gasp. “Tell me how it feels,” he breathes, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, and you swallow your desperate whine for him to move.

“Feels so good,” you murmur, smoothing your hands up and down his neck as he stares at you as though daring you to break his gaze. “Please, Har -”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me - with your fingers, Har, please - make me feel so good -” and just to top off your request you lean in, crashing your lips so violently against his that your teeth clash and tongues collide, and you can taste everything you’d served him that evening and holy hell it tastes delicious. Perhaps it’s just him, dropping your thigh against the table so he can grab onto the back of your neck and keep your face attached to his, lips parted and wild and dominant as he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in with a newfound vigor -

The levee breaks, then, with your lips mashed together, and you’re more than thankful for it.

[honeypiehotchner]

Aaron Hotchner || MASTERLIST

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key:

** = the fic contains smut! 18+ only please

🌻 = 1k notes (!!!!!! thank u 🥺)

🥂 = 2k notes (????!!!!!!! thank you omg)

✔️ = the fic is completed!

❤️‍🔥 = angst

🍄 = fluff

✨ = a personal fav of mine

🌈 = Autistic!Reader

Fics

The Gambit** ❤️‍🔥

Hotch x Fem!BAU Agent!Reader; in progress

Summary: Ten years after you first met Aaron Hotchner, you're placed on his team at the BAU. Ten years apart isn't nearly long enough to cool the hatred that began when you first met. In fact, it seems to have only gotten worse -- and the feeling is mutual.

General themes/warnings: enemies to lovers (these two HATE each other y'all), typical level of violence and cases for the show, depictions of panic attacks, eventual smut

intelligence & issues** 🥂✔️ ✨

Hotch x BAU Agent!Fem!Reader; Completed

Summary: You’ve been working for the BAU for almost a year now. You know how you feel about your supervisor, but you also know it’s a lost cause. When the next case the BAU is assigned takes the team to your hometown, will it bring the two of you closer, or rip you apart for good?

General themes/warnings: age gap (14 years), slight BDSM & Dom/sub undertones, eventual smut, SLOW BURN, lots of angst, soft!Hotch at times, sexual assault/rape cases, PTSD

Devil’s Backbone** ✔️❤️‍🔥

Unsub!Hotch x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Foyet murdered Haley and Jack. Hotch took Foyet’s life. He thought that would be enough. But it wasn’t. He needed more.

General themes/warnings: angst galore, major character death, very unkind Hotch (he is the unsub, after all), just basically don’t read unless you want to be hurt (I’m serious)

Unconventional** (formerly FSOAH)

Hotch x Fem!Reader AU; Officially discontinued, sorry lovelies!

Summary: You’re in your last semester of college and your senior project consists of a novel written in a genre you haven’t yet explored. Romance. There’s one small problem, though. You’ve never experienced romance before and the thought of true love kind of makes you want to gag. It’s partly because of your own issues, and partly because, well, guys your age just don’t do it for you. So what happens when you stumble into a meeting with an older guy who is willing to show you the ropes of romance, with no strings attached?

General themes/warnings: age gap (20ish years), BDSM, Dom/sub relationship, Daddy/Sir kink, somewhat of a sugar daddy relationship, smut is basically a plot point guys, minors DNI

Bye Bye, Baby // Don’t You (part two) // That’s When (part three) ❤️‍🔥🍄✔️

Hotch x Fem!Reader; Completed!

Summary: Hotch broke up with you and you run into each other four years later, only now you have a daughter who looks just like him.

Warnings: songfics, angst, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of puking, happy ending :))

One-shots

From oldest to newest

delicate 🌻 🍄

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars. Until he meets you at one.

General themes/warnings: age gap (give or take 20 years), songfic, tooth-rotting fluff, one scene of sexual harassment (but not graphic)

no body, no crime // part two** // vigilante shit (part three)**✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re the unsub and Hotch knows it, but he just can’t prove it. (Based on the song by Taylor Swift!)

General themes/warnings: songfic, not fluff but also not angst?, sensual in places, lots of smut in part 2 + 3!! 18+ only

winter love (all i want for christmas is you) ❤️‍🔥🍄🎄

Hotch x high school best friend!Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Hotch were best friends in high school, until he met Haley, and then graduated, leaving you all alone to finish high school and deal with the loss of your first love. Years later, you return home to Virginia to find Hotch is still around, and the two of you run into one another at your old coffee shop.

General themes/warnings: Christmas themed! Some angst, mutual pining, Hotch and Haley are divorced and Jack was never born (and it’s ~10k words you’re welcome)

satan’s waterfall** 🍄

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Period sex with Hotch...that’s it, that’s the fic.

General themes/warnings: shower sex, period sex, Daddy kink, “good girl”, slight size kink, y’all are newly married (but that’s not a big plot point bc it’s basically pwp)

down to earth ❤️‍🔥🍄

this was requested!

Hotch x GN!Reader (but he does call reader “Honey”)

Summary: You and Hotch are in the middle of a (stupid) argument when you flinch, raising your arms to block him, because you thought he was going to hit you.

General themes/warnings: angst, fluff, depiction of PTSD, mentions of past abuse

good girl**✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: You teased Hotch and his response was to fuck your face.

General themes/warnings: smut, facefucking, 18+ minors DNI, mentions of denial, mentions of spanking, Daddy kink, “good girl” “little one”

version of you ❤️‍🔥 🍄✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hotch helps you find the courage to end your abusive relationship for good.

General themes/warnings: depiction of an abusive relationship, domestic violence, angst, happy ending

sleepy** 🍄🌻✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sleepy sex with Aaron. That’s it. That’s the fic.

General themes/warnings: fluffy smut (obvi), cockwarming (while falling asleep)

you’re still a traitor ❤️‍🔥

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hotch didn’t cheat, but he betrayed you. (Based on “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo)

Warnings: all angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking, no happy ending (and no part 2 soz)

i’m hardwired differently 🍄✨🌈

Hotch x Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometimes your self-doubt gets the best of you, but Aaron is always there to hold you.

Warnings: small meltdown, anxious thoughts, established relationship

painfully professional ❤️‍🔥🍄🌻

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re a new agent at the BAU and everyone has warmed up to you except your boss. It’s tearing you apart, but you don’t know why.

Warnings: angst beginning, fluffy ending, mentions of being stood up on a date

i’ve been leaving you for months now ❤️‍🔥

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Aaron is the best you’ve ever had. And equally as painful. Which is what made it so hard to leave. (Songfic)

Warnings: all angst, like no fluff (unless you absolutely fuckin SQUINT)

leave your lover ❤️‍🔥

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Hotch should leave your lovers and be with one another. But he’ll never leave Haley.

Warnings: all angst, some fluff, no happy ending, mentions of nsfw things but nothing explicit, basically an affair (but not really?? depends on your own morals ig)

hard-headed 🍄

Hotch x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Hotch is hard-headed. But so are you.

Warnings: none! all fluff <3

halley’s comet 🍄

Hotch x Babysitter!Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve babysat Jack Hotchner for years, and slowly fallen in love with his dad (on accident).

Warnings: mostly fluff, some angst, very happy ending :))

last kiss ❤️‍🔥

Hotch x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: songfic based on “Last Kiss” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: angst angst angst, fluffy interludes, not a happy ending (soz)

i don’t even know my last name // part two

Hotch x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: songfic based on “Last Name” by Carrie Underwood

Warnings: angst, reckless/drunk Hotch, many mentions of alcohol, alluding to smut, fluff

forehead kisses that could mend any wound ✨🌈

Hotch x Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: You never know how to deal with death. Aaron helps you cope in healthy ways.

Warnings: angst and fluff, depiction of a meltdown, mentions of death/loss of a loved one

he’s different, he’s better 🍄

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: comparing your past relationship to your one with Hotch

Warnings: straight up FLUFF

better**

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: basically the smutty part 2 to the one shot above!

Warnings: straight up FILTH

“aren’t you going to thank me?”**

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: this was a prompt!

Warnings: smut <3 oral (f receiving)

long day 🌈

Hotch x Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: comforting Hotch after he’s had a long day :(

Warnings: none! very sfw

another man’s jeans**✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aaron used to date years ago, back when you both were too immature to know what you wanted -- but you knew you wanted each other. Now he’s working a case in the city where you live, and you want to have a little bit of fun ;))

Warnings: jealous!Hotch, smut ;) grinding, oral sex (f receiving), brief handjob, slight size kink, unprotected sex (use a condom irl for the love of GOD), dub-con (VERY slight, I think, but there are some moments where I can see it being questionable; just remember reader & Aaron used to be together, so this isn’t their first rodeo with each other, if you know what I mean)

memories ❤️‍🔥🍄

Hotch x Fem!Reader; for the ex I used he/him pronouns

Summary: Your ex broke up with you out of nowhere. Hotch comforts you, and even confesses something he’s been holding back for a long time.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, nothing else <3

recompense** ✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hotch forgot all about your date night. He makes it up to you, though.

Warnings: 18+ only pleaseeee y’all know the drill, slight sub!Hotch/dom!reader, light bondage, grinding, angst, MAYBE dubcon if you absolutely squint

faking it 🍄✨🌈

Hotch x Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re in a constant state of masking, of faking who you are, but Hotch doesn’t want you to hide anymore.

Warnings: sprinkles of angst, lots of fluff, many mentions of masking as an autistic person, one bed trope’

the open road** ✨

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue

gold star ❤️‍🔥🍄✨

Hotch x Teacher!Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not.

Warnings: angst! talks of parent death, therapy, bad parenting/emotional neglect, y’know the works. Lots of fluff tho to make up for it. And a happy ending!

baby, please come home** 🍄🎄

Beard!Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hotch has been overseas for three months and counting, and now it looks like he won’t be home in time for Christmas.

Warnings: mention of marriage, Hotch is a (playful) asshole, smut 18+ only pls minors dni!!!, unprotected p in v (wrap it irl pls i beg), oral (m and f receiving), sleepy sex, cockwarming, teasing

man after midnight

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: The team goes out for a New Year’s Eve party and it ends in the best way possible.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, teeth-rotting fluff

Will you be my Valentine?

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Each time a new member of the BAU figured out Hotch had feelings for you…and when he finally told you.

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff babes. It’s vile how cute this is

kiss her, you fool

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're in the middle of spring cleaning when Aaron calls and says he forgot something at your place (he didn't).

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff as usual

Juno

Hotch x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation

Headcanons/short blurbs

overprotective&comforting!Hotch after you have surgery 🍄

this was requested!

allll fluff :))

x fem!reader

perfect cozy sunday (weekend) with hotch** 🍄

this was requested!

mostly fluff with a teeny bit of smut at the end

x fem!reader

night routine with hotch 🍄

this was requested!

alllll fluff :))

x reader

no one knows you’re hotch’s girlfriend...and derek tries to flirt with you 🍄

this was requested!

all fluff :))

x fem!reader

coming out (daughter!reader) 🍄

totally self-indulgent :)

fluff!

adopted!daughter!reader

some mentions of anxiety, being too anxious to eat, but nothing graphic/major

beauty isn’t skin deep (comfort for eczema) 🍄

also totally self-indulgent

fluff!

x fem!reader

anxious thoughts, sad thoughts, and mentions of picking at your skin/bleeding

Last Updated: December 22nd, 2024

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

my body is a cage.

ObNeSummary: Y/N’s worst nightmare has become a reality. Her only saving grace is that she doesn’t have to do it alone. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,000+ [One Shot]

Warning: Feminist Issues, Adult/Mature Themes (NOT smut)

Y/N could feel her heart start racing faster as she studied the doctor’s office. Now she was starting to sweat as well. 

Her doctor were running late and that meant Y/N was stuck looking at the nondescript walls and smelling that sterile scent for 20 minutes. It felt like an hour. 

It was just a follow-up appointment. There was no bad news expected to be given. But that didn’t stop Y/N’s anxiety. 

Y/N finally gave up on trying to calm herself down through breathing and reached down to grab her cellphone out of her purse. 

There was a two text message notifications: one from her mom and one from Jason. 

She opened the one from Jason. 

– Good luck at your appointment today. Remember to breathe. 

Y/N smirked at the message. Jason knew how stressed out Y/N got for literally any type of doctor’s appointments. Even if it was just your usual checkup – like today – it caused her anxiety for some reason. 

Jason must’ve sent it right before passing out after patrol. 

Finally the doctor came in, making Y/N jump and almost drop her phone. She hid her scare well and quickly put her phone back into her purse. 

“Hi Y/N, so we finally got your blood work back,” she began. 

“Great. Will I be able to get a prescription and pick it up today?” Y/N asked quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. 

“So one of the many reasons we get blood drawn before prescribing this medication is to make sure you’re not pregnant before going on it.” Before Y/N could speak, she quickly added. “You’re test results came back positive.” 

Y/N’s mouth opened at the statement. 

Her mind was going a million miles a second, trying to process what the doctor has just told her. 

When was the last time she had her period?

Why did it feel 20 degrees hotter in here all of the sudden?

This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No. This really couldn’t be happening. She tried so, so hard to make sure this didn’t happen. This was her nightmare. This was her fucking nightmare coming to fucking life. 

By some miracle, the doctor didn’t smile with joy and exclaim a congratulations. She seemed to sense that Y/N was on the brink of having an anxiety attack. 

“I remember you saying you did’t intend on ever having any kids, so I’m sure this is a lot to process,” the doctor told her gently. “Why don’t we hold off on this medication – even if it’s just for a couple of days? Just give yourself a second to process and come up with a plan.” Then she gave Y/N an encouraging smile. “When you want to make another appointment, I’ll make sure reception squeezes you in. Alright?” 

Y/N couldn’t do anything but nod – and even that was far too delayed. 

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” The doctor asked softly. 

But Y/N shook her head. 

When Y/N got out of the doctor’s office and back on the streets of Gotham, she seemed to snap out of it a bit. 

Her ears weren’t ringing any longer and the cold, winter air was doing miracles. 

‘Get to Jason,’ Y/N’s heart suddenly screamed at her. 

And just like that, Y/N went into autopilot, grabbed a cab, and gave them her address. As she watched the buildings go by, Y/N’s mind was simultaneously thinking a million things and thinking nothing at all. It was almost a buzz. 

When she got back to her apartment, the TV was on but the volume was off. Sometimes Jason would watch it after patrol and hope it would bore him to sleep. But her giant, vigilante of a boyfriend wasn’t sleeping on the couch, so that meant he was in their bed. 

Y/N toed off her shoes, tossed her keys on the side table by the door, and hung her denim jacket – no, Jason’s denim jacket – on the coat rack. 

She slowly pushed the bedroom door open to find Jason passed out on his side. His arm was reached over to the other side of the bed as if his body had searched out for hers in his sleep and came up empty. 

Y/N tiptoed to the bed and carefully slid into the empty side of the bed. 

Jason stayed asleep, meaning he must’ve been really exhausted. Usually her presence would stir him, even if it was just for a few seconds. 

Sometimes Y/N would come in here when she got back from work and take a cat nap with him before getting started on dinner or leaving to work out. Sometimes she would just cuddle with him, he would wake up and sleepily ask about her day while bringing her into his – even when she told him to go back to sleep. 

Now Y/N laid on her side and watched him sleep. 

Even when he looked exhausted and various scars were scattered across his face, Jason Todd was beautiful. 

And when he was sleeping like this, he looked so young. Y/N wondered if that was how Jason always looked to Bruce: innocent, vulnerable, forever young.

Y/N reached forward shakily and brushed the white streak of his hair off his face. His hair was getting shaggier than usually allowed. She wondered if he’d ask her to cut it again or if he’d finally listen to her and go to a barber. 

“You run your hands through my hair and I’ll be putty in your hands,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed. 

Y/N froze and stopped her combing, her hands shooting back to her chest. 

Her silence and pause made Jason’s eyes squint open. 

Those blue eyes of his were always perception, especially when it came to the woman he loved with all his heart. And as soon as they locked with Y/Ns, they immediately knew that something was wrong. 

His brow wrinkled. “You OK?” His voice laced with worry and concern.

Suddenly… Y/N’s mind and body were given the chance to release the reaction they wanted to have since the news was broken.

Her bottom lip trembled a moment before tears burst from her eyes. 

And then Y/N was shoving her face into her boyfriend’s chest. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason consoled. “What happened? What’s going on?” 

But Y/N couldn’t even form words. She was fully hyperventilating. 

Her chest literally hurt as the sobs escaped. She was shaking as if it was freezing in the room, despite Jason’s body basically being her own personal furnace. And she felt like she was going to throw up at any second. 

Was that morning sickness? Or was the just good ol’ fashioned nausea?

Jason quickly realized he wasn’t going to get any verbal communication right now. So he just held her in his arms, letting her cry it out as he rubbed a hand up and down her back. 

But his mind was shuffling through all of the possibilities. 

Had someone hurt her? Did she get fired? Did a group of assholes catcall her on the way home? 

But none of those seemed like things that would upset Y/N in such a manner. 

“Breathe, Y/N. Take a deep breath,” he told her calmly as he kissed the top of her head. 

She barely gave a nod to show that she was trying to do what he advised. 

With her eyes wet and bloodshot from tears and her face swollen, Y/N finally pulled away from Jason’s chest so he could see her. 

“Deep breath,” he reminded her again gently. “Can you tell me what’s gotten you so upset? Can you do that for me?”

Y/N sniffled, really just to buy herself a second before she said it. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s body tensed. His eyes studied hers, looking for any sign that she was not being absolutely serious. 

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Jason muttered, now realizing why she’d had such a reaction. 

But then he quickly recovered, realizing that she still needed him because she was freaking the fuck out. Obviously. She just had a full-on panic attack in his arms. And she was probably moments away from possibly having another. 

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, look at me.”

She took in a deep breath and did as he asked. 

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to. OK?”

She just stared at him. 

“OK?” He asked again, making sure she understood what he was telling her. 

She nodded. 

“I don’t want it,” Y/N exhaled. 

The words came out on their own, like she had no control over them. 

Jason winced, not at her statement, but because she sounded so desperate and scared. 

He gave her a sympathetic look and cupped her cheek. “I know, Y/N. I know.” 

Then he brought her back into his arms, holding her protectively, as usual – but protecting her from something he never had to before. 

“I know how you feel about it. I’ve always did,” he told her softly. “Just try to relax. OK?”

She nodded. 

Jason didn’t try to fill the silence. He didn’t try to say comfort after comfort. His touch did more things for Y/N then he words ever did. She needed to be held, not lectured or verbally coddled.

After a few moments, he looked down at her. “We can order from your favorite place, OK? Have a little movie marathon or finish watching that show.”

She gave him a small, shy smile at that.

“Sound good,” he asked. 

She nodded again. 

———

30 minutes later, Jason was scrolling the internet, researching Planned Parenthood locations while waiting for their takeout to get there. 

Y/N, exhausted from her emotional and mental breakdown, had fallen asleep a few minutes after telling Jason the news. 

Jason figured the least he could do is take the logistical weight off Y/N’s shoulders. All of this was happening to her and it was his fault. He knew she’d never frame it that way, but that’s how he felt right now. And he’d do anything to make it easier for her. 

But all of the sudden, the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck suddenly stood on end. 

The next millisecond, he grabbed the nearest hidden gun, shot to his feet, and pointed it at the window. 

“Relax, Todd.”

“Demon Spawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” Jason lowered the gun. 

To Jason’s annoyance, Damian jumped down from the window and into the apartment, dressed in his full Robin uniform. 

“When you texted about covering your patrol tonight, father asked me to check on you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Liar. No, he didn’t.”

“So, why aren’t you on patrol?” 

“Y/N needed me.”

Damian’s body tensed. 

For as much of hard time as Damian gave Jason, he didn’t mind his girlfriend. However, the preteen would never admit to actually liking her or enjoying time spent with her. But the whole family saw it anyway. 

“Is she sick?” 

Jason just nodded, not really having the energy to compose a big lie. 

Then Damian caught sight of the laptop screen and saw what Jason had been researching. 

“Oh,” Damian blurted out without thinking. It was a very unusual reaction from him. He always had something to say.  

“Just…keep it to yourself, k?” Jason asked. 

The last thing he needed right now was Damian blabbing around about Y/N. 

But Damian nodded, not giving any further reaction to his discovery. 

———

“What’s Alfred the Cat doing here?” Y/N asked as she cradled the cat and walking into the kitchen the next morning. 

“Damian,” was all Jason provided.

Y/N laughed at his crypticness. “Did he need a cat sitter?”

Jason shook his head. “He came snooping when I told them I wasn’t going on patrol. And…Well, he’s Bruce’s kid, so you can imagine how quickly he put it together.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped when she realized what Jason was saying. 

“He brought some of human Alfred’s cookies for you, too.” Jason added quickly, maybe to soften the blow a bit. 

“That was sweet of him,” was all Y/N mumbled in return. 

“I think he was worried about you. Figured some cookies and cuddles from Alfred would make you feel better,” Jason explained. “Of course, he didn’t verbally express any of that because he’s emotionally constipated.”

Y/N managed to force a smirk at the joke. 

Silence filled the kitchen. 

“I made you an appointment today,” Jason told her gently. “Not that I’m trying to force you to do anything. You can cancel it if you want to. I was just trying to–”

“Thank you,” Y/N cut him off and dropped the cat to wrap Jason in a hug. “Thank you, Jason.” She repeated, mumbled this time, since her face was now buried in his chest. 

“Of course,” he told her before kissing her head. “Want some breakfast?”

He chuckled when he felt her nodding enthusiastically against him. 

“Your favorite?”

She nodded again. 

“You gonna let me go so I can make it?”

She shook her head no. 

“Alright, spider monkey, let’s do this.”

Y/N’s laughter filled the room as Jason somehow managed to maneuver her body so she was on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck. And she piggybacked around the kitchen with him as he made them breakfast. 

———

“Welp,” Y/N said bitterly as she looked at the building from across the street. “Don’t know how I wasn’t expecting this.”

Jason sighed as he watched too. 

There were a dozen people with picket signs. One said, “It’s a child, not a choice.” Another said, “Jesus loves you both.” One of the men had a megaphone. One woman held a box with figurines that inaccurately showed how far along the fetus would be when it’s aborted. 

“Wait here,” was all Jason said. 

“Wait, what? Jason! Jason, don’t!” Y/N hissed. 

But Jason was already halfway across the street. With the traffic and general noice of Gotham, Y/N could hear nothing. But it was clear that he was talking to him. 

“Oh, for christ’s sake,” Y/N sighed when she saw all of their faces shift to utter horror. Whatever he was saying to them had clearly terrified them. 

It only took a minute before Jason jogged back to her and offered his hand. 

“Come on,” he said encouragingly. 

“What the fuck did you just do?” She asked him. 

“I told them all of their names, social security numbers, and addresses,” Jason told her lightly. “Oh! And their top porn searched.” He gave them a glance. “And said if they even so much as looked at you, I would do what I wanted with that information."

“So…you threatened them.”

Jason tilted his head and shrugged innocently. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Jason…” she groaned. 

“I thought you would be proud. I didn’t use physical violence. I’m growing!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. 

But lo and behold, none of the protesters so much as faced their direction as they walked past. 

Y/N wondered how long it took Jason to memorize all that information. Did he ask Tim to hack street cameras and use face recognition to even find all of them? 

In the most messed up way, it warmed Y/N’s heart. It just showed a new angle of Jason’s protectiveness. Guess that was just another perk of dating a dangerous vigilante with too many connections and resources. 

Besides his little threat, Jason hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since they left the apartment – even now, as they sat in the waiting room. 

If he was anxious at all, he was doing a beautiful job of hiding it.

Y/N guessed that’s what happened when someone had the history of Jason. This was like a walk in the park for him.  

But when they called her name, Y/N looked at Jason with slight panic. 

“I can’t go with you. It’s against policy,” he told her softly. “But I’ll be right here when you get out. OK?”

She nodded. 

He must’ve learned that when he was doing all his research. 

“You good? Huh?” He whispered, keeping eye contact. 

She nodded again. 

“You’ll be fine,” then he kissed her. 

Just as Y/N reached the nurse, she turned to her boyfriend again. “I love you,” she mouthed to him. 

“I love you too,” he mouthed back. 

———

Y/N had been drained when they finally got back to their apartment. 

All she wanted was to take a nap with her boyfriend. 

A couple hours later, she had finally had the energy to stay awake. 

But neither of them had any interest in getting out of bed. So instead they stayed cuddled close.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked her. 

“Physically or mentally?” 

“Both.”

“Physically, fine mostly. Some cramping. They said that was normal. But my period is ten times worse.” Then she sighed. “Mentally…like…I’m in control. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. 

“And relieved. Fuck,” she half laughed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.” 

“I’m glad.”

Then Y/N smirked mischievously. “Are you sad you won’t see me wearing those stupid overalls with a baby bump,” then she dramatically fanned her hands, “as we have a montage of us painting a nursery?”

Jason laughed at that. “OK. Well I don’t live in a fucking Lifetime commercial.” Then he smirked. “I’ll take the overalls without the baby bump, though.” 

She giggled at that. 

“But it’s a real shame we couldn’t have a gender reveal party and burn down all of Gotham accidentally…” Jason thought aloud. 

Y/N tried to suppress a smile, “…you do realize the point of those parties is to reveal the baby’s gender and not to burn a city down, right?” 

“Well, fuck.” Jason played dumb. “The only appealing part of that was the arson.”

“It would’ve been funny to fuck with people, though.” Y/N’s eyes went distant as she thought about it. “Put in black balloons or just a rainbow assortment. And just see how everyone reacted.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jason sighed. 

“Why are traditions so stupid and embarrassing?”

They both laughed. 

“I’d have to suffer through a stupid baby shower. And then you’d get to come in at the very end and just wave at everyone. Men really got it made, huh? Just show up, and everyone applauds.” 

Jason laughed, knowing she was absolutely right. Enough of the Justice League had kids for him to know that was how it worked. 

“Like those videos where dads do their daughter’s hair and everyone loses their mind and praises him. But name one time a video has gone viral of a mom doing her kid’s hair.”

“The bar’s low,” he reminded Y/N. 

But then Jason watched Y/N’s smile fall from her face as she got lost in her head. 

“What?”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“What?” He gripped her chin. “Absolutely not.”

“I don’t feel bad. There’s no remorse,” Y/N mumbled with as her eyes zoned out. “All I feel is weight lifted off of me.”

“Hey,” his voice was low and serious. “Hey, look at me.” 

He waited for her to do what he asked. “You’re not a bad person. You hear me?” 

Then he started making himself angry with the thought that anyone would ever tell Y/N otherwise. 

“You know what a bad person looks like? Someone who doesn’t take having a child seriously. Someone who makes that decision half-assed, knowing they’re bringing a child into a toxic environment or that they can’t properly take care of them.”

Jason made himself calm down. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just proves that you did exactly what you knew was best.” 

She nodded, finally convinced by his words. 

Y/N reached forward and brushed some hair off his face. 

Jason was so god damn handsome. No wonder I got pregnant, she thought darkly. This is exactly how she got into this mess. It was hard just to keep her hands off of him. 

“If I ask you something, do you promise you’ll tell me the truth?” 

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll try my best.”

Her eyes twisted into something somber and afraid. 

“Do you really never want kids?” 

Jason should’ve expected this question at some point. 

Even though Y/N didn’t verbalize it, Jason knew that one of her biggest fear throughout all of this was that it would change their relationship. She was scared that he would resent her, that he would change his mind and beg her to keep it. 

Maybe it was her tone that was really the thing that caught him off guard. She sounded so scared of what he would say. 

Jason rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Not because he wanted to hide the truth by stopping her from staring into his eyes. He just wanted to make sure he collected al of this thoughts. She deserved a proper answer. 

“I never planned on being a father,” the statement was unwavering. “You know how my childhood went. And I see the same thing happening to kids all over Gotham today – some of them have it so much worse than I did.”

Y/N reached forward and placed her palm on his chest, right over his heart. Without thinking, his hand went to grip it. 

“But you would never be like that,” she assured him. “You’re a good man, Jason. I mean, just look at how you are with Damian – no matter how hard you try to hide your soft spot for that boy.”

“I know I can be a good father. Except before you were in my life, I didn’t know that.” 

If he were really tell the truth, he would tell Y/N that without her, there most likely wouldn’t even be a Jason Todd...only Red Hood. 

He looked away from the ceiling and back at her. “But that doesn’t want I want to be.” 

“So you can honestly say that you never want a family? Even if wasn’t with me?” 

“Y/N, look at my family,” Jason laughed. “None of us our related. Bruce is a mess of a father. His biological son was basically artificially inseminated. The butler is more like our grandma who raised us. All of them tried to take me down and imprison me at one point or another...”

He shook his head at the ridiculousness. “The point is that I know more than anyone that family can look like a million different things. And the perfect outline society has forced onto us doesn’t actually mean shit.”

He grinned. “My family is a group of vigilantes who don’t know how to quit.” His eyes softened. “And then there’s you. You’re my family, too. I don’t need add anything else for that to be true.” 

Y/N couldn’t help herself and she practically tackled him into a kiss. 

Jason gripped her waist and twisted them so she was straddling his waist, and his hands traced up and down the side of her ribcage. 

After their lips separate, Y/N looked down at him lovingly. 

She let a moment pass. 

“What if I changed my mind?”

“I think you and I both know you never will.”

“But what if I did?” She insisted. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N just wanted to challenge him. She wanted to go through all the scenarios her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. She needed answers to the hypothetical scenarios that would never come to be. 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she told him certainly. 

“I know, Y/N.”

She kissed him again. “Thank you for supporting me through all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he scoffed. “It’s my fault.” 

And he meant it. Most days, Jason had to convince himself he was worthy of her love. What kind of man would be lucky enough to have Y/N as their girl and not do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way?

“No, it wasn’t,” she corrected him seriously. “It was both of us.” 

“You can’t scare me away,” Jason told her. “Nothing is ever gonna stop me from loving you. Got it?”

She nodded. 

But before she could say anything more, Jason wrapped her in a heated kiss. 

He knew these questions were her anxiety manifesting itself. And Y/N had enough stress for today. So he’d turned off her mind with his touches. 

She deserved a break. 

-----------------

I don’t know how I managed to write yet another one of these fics. But I realized it was easier to give it a new twist since Jason Todd has a sense of humor and an edge that Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers do not. Also, he wasn’t raised in the 1930s. lol

Please, please, please let me know if you liked it!!!

If anyone is interested in movies on this topic, I highly recommend these:

Never Rarely Sometimes Always 

Unpregnant 

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

Obvious Child

[spookysmujer]

Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)

 “Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 

The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 

 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 

“Talk to him.” 

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 

“Mijo, listen..” 

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii @b3mybunnybaby  @angelxfics  @spookysbabymama @ladylj @vayagrxce @irenne-stans @boujee-bitches (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

[rosiehunterwolf]

CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS FREN 💖💖 you deserve it and so much more

If you're feeling up to it (DONT FEEL OBLIGATED DO U HEAR ME MY DEAR) movie verse Jay my beloved

asfljdlkj tysm Amour! I'm so glad to have you as part of my tumblr family, ur one of my best friends on here 💕✨

i really needed to write something movie!verse because I LOVE movie!verse and haven't written anything yet, so I was excited for this one

(@fabro-de-omres you've said in the past that you would love to read it if I wrote something movie!verse, so here's ✨content✨)

I'll chase you to the moon and back

Summary: When you’re in a secret ninja force and are your city’s primary protectors, pulling your weight is important.

Jay tries to be an asset to his team, but it’s difficult when he’s viewed as the scaredy-cat who cracks lame jokes. He loves his friends with all his heart, but sometimes it’s hard to know if they return those feelings.

Jay wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t.

Sometimes, Jay felt like he was a burden to the team.

He tried not to, he really did- he knew the others liked him and cared about him. But standing next to strong Cole, smart Zane, brave Kai, determined Nya, or warm-hearted Lloyd, it was difficult not to feel… inadequate.

It didn’t help that Cole hadn’t answered any of his recent texts.

It could be anything, Jay told himself as he stared down at the unread messages, resisting the urge to send another text. He could have an appointment he forgot to tell me about, or maybe he’s just not looking at his phone right now, or he simply doesn’t share my urgency to answer a text message so quickly. Cole had always been much more laid back about that, raising an eyebrow as Jay always scrambled to answer the text from his mom, or whoever had sent it this time.

But Cole was also Jay’s best friend. He knew he got anxious when someone left him unread for too long. Because of that, he had always been good about answering Jay’s texts quickly, even as the others still groaned about the earth ninja taking ages to respond to them.

For him to go an hour without responding was… concerning, to say the least.

Jay pushed the thoughts aside. He was probably just overthinking this, like he always was. Cole would get back to him soon. It wasn’t like he was ignoring him, or anything.

Maybe the others are up to something. He opened the group chat, but although there were usually a hundred notifications at any given time- he had learned that the hard way the first day he had joined, turning on his phone after school to a whopping 785 texts- it was empty now. The last text was from Lloyd, asking Kai to meet him at his locker before lunch.

Jay felt his heart rate spike. The lack of an argument between Kai and Nya in the last five minutes alone was worrying- because heaven forbid they actually talk things out in person, even if they literally lived one bedroom down from each other- and his mind quickly spiraled into possibilities. Had someone kidnapped them? Had their parents grounded them? Or maybe they had committed a crime and gotten thrown into jail. He wouldn’t put it past Kai and Nya to pull something dumb- Cole and Zane would go along with it, and Lloyd would never speak up enough to voice his disproval-

No, don’t be ridiculous, they wouldn’t commit a crime.

Well… Kai might. But the others would stop him.

What if they made a separate group chat without me?

No. His friends would never do that. They’d be more likely to commit that crime.

But the thought wouldn’t leave Jay’s brain, and before he knew it, he was sending a text in the group chat.

jaybird123: What r u guys up to? Wanna hang?

He immediately regretted it. What if he came off as too clingy? Too overbearing? They probably just wanted some time to themselves.

That didn’t sound quite right to Jay, but he stuffed his phone in his pocket, forcing the thought out of his mind.

He decided to go to the park- watching the people there always gave him good ideas for inventions. He was too late to catch a bus down there, but it wasn’t too far to walk.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced down.

thegreendragon: sorry jay, got plans 2nite. maybe tmrrw?

Jay tried to stop the pang of disappointment. Lloyd wouldn’t lie to him. The others probably were just busy. It was no big deal. Tomorrow, things would be back to normal.

A couple of blocks away, he caught the sounds of annoyed shouts, the kind that usually hinted towards the presence of-

He stopped, blinking, as a boy darted past the onlookers and into the shop.

Huh. Lloyd?

Starting towards the store his friend had vanished into, Jay peered through the window, looking for Lloyd-

Jay froze. Lloyd was standing with the others, animatedly babbling something to them as they watched him happily.

Jay shrunk back. They really had met up without him, and had lied about it, too. He wasn’t being paranoid- his friends just didn’t want him around.

For a moment, the shock left Jay floundering. He had no other friends. The other ninja were his entire livelihood. What was he meant to do now?

He quickly wiped at the tears pooling in his eyes. I’ll go home. My mom will know what to do.

He had the worst feeling that this was something that even his mom couldn’t fix, though.

About halfway home, a buzz in his pocket interrupted him from his stupor. Pulling out his phone, he saw there was a new message in the group chat.

rock’n’cole: hey jay, something just came up, can u meet us at the warehouse asap?

Jay just stared at his phone for a minute, debating whether to actually show up or not. After all, the others had ditched him, why shouldn’t he do the same? And he still felt hurt- he wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk to them yet. He really should just go home.

jaybird123: sure, i’ll be there in 20

Jay had never been good at holding grudges.

Thirty minutes later (he had ended up stalling a little bit just for the spite of it) he pushed through the doors of the warehouse. It was pitch black inside, and as he fumbled around for the lights, he couldn’t help but notice that no one else was there. It was stupid of me to come. They just abandoned me. Again.

Suddenly, the lights burst on, and the others were jumping out from behind the furniture, cheering and hugging him. Jay stumbled backward, taken aback. “What’s going on?”

Kai looked at him like he was crazy, gesturing widely at all the balloons and streamers that Jay could see now that the lights were on. “It’s a party, dumbass, what else do you think?”

“What for? It’s not my birthday!”

Nya scoffed, as if he had just told her that men lived on the moon. “Of course not, this is for your Ninja-versary!”

“My… what?”

“The anniversary of the day you first became a ninja, stupid!”

“Oh.” He blinked around at all the decor. “All this? Just for something as simple as that?”

Kai wasn’t the only one looking at him like he had sprouted a second head, now.

“Are you kidding?” Cole said. “We’re not going to skimp on celebrating the day one of our favorite people came into our lives.”

Jay blinked at him. “I…” I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

“Now, what are we waiting around for?” Cole threw an arm around Jay’s shoulders. “Let’s go get some cake!”

As the ninja hurried over to the table, squabbling over who would get which slice, Jay squashed between the middle of his big, loud, bickering family, he couldn’t have felt more at home.

[billiedeanhwrd]

as long as you are with me, there's no place i'd rather be

billie dean howard x fem!reader

summary: when your conservative parents kick you out for dating billie, she is more than happy to take you in🤍

warnings: age difference, mention of homophobic parents

word count: 1.7k

a/n: thank u sm for all the positive feedback on my last fic!! i'm still new to this and learning, but i'm having a lot of fun writing <3 i apologize for any grammar errors, as english is not my first language. i still hope you enjoy reading my new fic, i'd describe it as a comfort fic with lots of fluff!<33

gif credits to @honeybeawhore

billie was lying on her couch with a glass of her favorite rosé in one hand and a copy of one flew over the cuckoo's nest in the other. It had been a long and exhausting day at work and she really needed some quality time to herself.

the weather was terrible today, lucky for her and her crew that they shot everything inside today. billie could tell in the morning that a storm was coming, and now it was pouring rain.

the sound of the rain hitting the ground and the crackling of her fireplace created the perfect reading ambience. just as she was about to turn to a page in her book, her doorbell startled her. who the hell was standing in front of her mansion in this weather? at this time?

she checked the monitor connected to her security cameras that she had built in next to the front door only to see you completely soaked, and visibly freezing on her doorstep.

she unlocked the door as quickly as she could and ushered you inside. "y/n, what are you doing here?"

"i'm sorry this is the only place i could go", you managed to stutter out. you had been dating the medium for a few months now, but had never actually stayed over at her place. you were special to billie and she didn't want to risk ruining the connection between you two by going to fast. she wanted this relationship to be different from the ones she's had before, and given your rather big age difference, taking it slow seemed right to both of you.

"what hap-you know what that's not important right now, let's get you warmed and dried up first"

you followed your girlfriend into her luxurious gold-white themed bathroom and watched her as she searched for the softest towel she owned.

"here, feel free to take a hot shower first" she handed you a towel, "i'll lay out some comfortable clothes for you on the bed in the guest room, it's the room right next to this one." you nodded thankfully. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen, sweetheart" she smiled at you with that loving look in her coffee colored eyes that warmed your heart so much, you almost didn't need the shower.

you entered billie's guest bedroom feeling as if you'd just left a spa. the medium had a colossal collection of all kinds of sensual soaps, shampoos and moisturizers in her bathroom and you came out smelling like a scented candle. her guest bedroom was beautifully decorated, it was clear the older woman had great taste and invested a lot of time in the design of her home.

after drying yourself and putting on dry underwear, you glanced towards the bed. billie had laid out a baby blue burberry hoodie with matching sweatpants for you. you felt nervous thinking about wearing her clothes, especially these, not only because they were obviously expensive but also because you had seen her wear this before, you knew she liked this set and you were afraid of ruining it. all of your negative thoughts left your mind though when you carefully put on the comfortable clothes and let her sweet smell engulf you.

you treaded lightly down the stairs to the kitchen where billie was waiting for you with a freshly brewed cup of chamomile tea. she gestured for you to sit down on the high chair facing her at the countertop.

"you look cute in my clothes". you blushed. "thank you, billie, but you didn't have to give me something so costly, anything would've been alright"

"nonsense, darling" she replied, "only the best for you". she gently squeezed your hand. you looked at her like some kind of love-struck teenager, but before you could say anything, she spoke up again.

"now tell me, what caused you to walk through a storm all by yourself in the dark? you could've gotten hurt", the worried look in her eyes made your heart ache.

you looked down in embarrassment at your other hand, that wasn't covered by billie's, but placed in your lap. "my parents kicked me out". billie raised an eyebrow at you. "i know living with your parents in your late 20s isn't ideal, but i couldn't afford to move out yet" she nodded along, signaling you to continue.

"and i stupidly left my phone in the living room and when i got a new notification they saw my lockscreen...", billie tilted her head questioningly "what's your lockscreen, y/n?".

you were to shy to tell her, so you got your phone out of the hoodie's front pocket and slid it toward the medium. you heard billie chuckle,

"aww, since when am i your lockscreen, babygirl?"

you smiled sheepishly. "since that photo was taken"

your wallpaper was a picture of billie holding you close and kissing your cheek. it was taken at your first official date, she had brought you to disney land after you expressed your interest in going there and even if it might not be her thing, seeing the joy in your face and knowing she was responsible for it, made it totally worth it.

both of you looked so happy on that picture, it bewildered billie why anyone would get upset about it and you could tell, by the confused look on her face.

"i didn't tell my parents i was seeing you, they would've never approved... clearly", you explained. billie was about to ask if their issue was the age difference between you two, something she was still a little insecure about, when you continued speaking, "i knew they didn't accept gay people, but i never thought they'd set me out on the street... their own daughter", you swiped the tears away that had escaped your eyes. "i'm really sorry about showing up uninvited this late, but you were the only person i could and wanted to go to"

billie quickly made her way over to you from the other side of the countertop. "come here", you practically fell into her arms and she was more than ready to catch you, literally and metaphorically speaking.

you didn't know what exactly had set you off, telling the story about how you were suddenly homeless or the fact that for the first time in your life, you had someone you could really count on, who was there for you when you needed them and didn't make you feel like a burden for showing emotion, but you were sobbing in billie's arms. she didn't mind though, she held you close to her heart and let you cry your feelings out.

when your breathing slowed down and the crying subsided, she pressed a kiss on your head and tenderly took your face into her hands. "i'm so so sorry they did that to you, no one deserves to be abandoned by their own parents for loving someone", she softly swiped the remaining tears on your face away, "you can stay with me, as long as you want to, sweetheart"

your eyes lit up, "really? billie you don't have to let me live with you if it makes you uncomfortable just because you pity me...", you tried to argue

"i wouldn't offer if i was uncomfortable, darling, and i don't pity you, i care about you"

"okay" you reluctantly agreed, still unsure about living with her when you've never even spent the night together. billie could read you so well, she knew exactly what you were worried about.

"honey, this doesn't mean we stop taking this slow, okay? we don't have to do anything tonight or anytime you're not ready"

you nearly melted at her considerate words, "thank you, billie", you lovingly squeezed her in a quick hug.

"of course", she squeezed you back.

you yawned against her, which made billie chuckle and check her watch.

"it's already past midnight, what do you say we go to bed now, hm?" you nodded sleepily. "would you like to stay with me or sleep in the guest bedroom?" she asked kindly.

you thought about it for a second and then timidly replied, "i think i'd like to stay with you, if that's okay"

"it's more than okay, love"

billie stood up and grabbed your hand to guide you to her bedroom, which wasn't necessary , you'd follow her voluntarily anywhere but you definitely weren't complaining.

"wait for me in the bathroom, right there" she pointed behind you, "i'll bring you some comfy pajamas". billie swiftly entered the room in front of you, which you assumed was her bedroom and came out with a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. "i hope this okay", you nodded and made your way to the bathroom to change.

after changing out of billie's clothes into a new set of her clothes that luckily also smelled like her, you headed towards her bedroom. she was already waiting for you when you arrived, but you had to stop in your tracks to admire the view.

billie's exquisite taste in interior design was again displayed in her elegant, yet cosy looking bedroom, her cream colored walls matched perfectly with her blush colored king sized bed, armchair and lamps. but what captivated you the most was the woman in this resplendent room. billie was wearing a lacy, low cut, rose gold, satin pajama set, which made her look even more sexy and at the same time angelic than she usually did.

she patted the space beside her, eager for you to join her. you switched off the lights and climbed into her bed. billie was laying on her side, turned towards you and instinctively took you into her arms when you settled into the bed, you embraced the older woman and possessively placed your leg on top of hers.

"goodnight, billie" you whispered before sleep was able to consume you. "goodnight, honey" she whispered back.

you nuzzled her neck affectionately and placed your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat. the storm was still going strong outside and you were overwhelmed with love and gratitude for your girlfriend. ending the day cuddled up in her bed was not something you expected. Sure, today started off horribly, but at the end of the day, you were safe and warm, next to someone who really cared for you, and you wouldn't want to exchange that for anything in the world.

[vale-studies-ir]

Hello lovely people!

It seems that life made me take a leave of absence from tumblr. Thanks to all of you who have continued to interact with my page! I'm sorry if I've missed any messages or questions in the time that I've been away. I'm back now and I'll continue to share my journey with you all...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In order to be able to keep moving forward, I think it's important to accept the past and move on. Accept any of the difficulties that happened, and see them as moments you've gone through that have made you stronger. My way of accepting and turning over a new page will be through this post.

I haven't shared too much information about my studies and how they've been going. My studyblr was very new, and I was using it more as a means for motivation by seeing all the wonderful things people in the community were doing. Little by little, I started to make posts of my own.

So let me formally introduce myself and share my ongoing journey...

My name is Valentina, I go by Vale for short. I jumped from graduating from my BA in International Relations and Political Science in the Spring of 2018 to starting my PhD studies in International Relations the Fall semester of that same year. No break, very smart... I know. That's only just the beginning. I'm not sure how it works abroad, but here doctoral students usually go through most of their studies being funded by a graduate assistantship. This pays tuition and provides a stipend through working as a TA (graduate teaching assistant). Of course they vary across universities and departments. When I was applying to the PhD program, one of my professors advised me not to accept if I was not given funding. There are only a limited number of spots that are given to incoming students each year that will be accepted as a TA.

In March of 2018 I received notification that I was accepted into the PhD program in International Relations at my university, however, the department could not guarantee funding for me. This put me at a loss, and I spend months wondering where this was going and what I would do. Because I'm an immigrant in the US, though I've been living here practically my whole life, I didn't have too many options. My mobility is constrained.. my access to scholarships is constrained (even though I may qualify for them in terms of academics and merit, migration status trumps over all of it). I was lost, to say the least. My family can't afford to have paid for this program or a Master's program out of pocket, and I am not able to take out student loans even if I wanted to.

Regardless of this all, I still attended the incoming graduate student orientation; which surprised the outgoing graduate program director. She did not think I would show up, considering the whole funding predicament. She and the new GPD told me that they would try to find something for me. On the first day of class, I showed up, still not knowing what would become of this situation. Not knowing if I would actually get to start the semester or not. We are usually given a week to pay tuition - because of status, I am considered an international student so my tuition came out to nearly $10,000 for three courses. That day, out of nowhere, I was told that the dean of our school (School of International and Public Affairs) was looking for a graduate assistant for new projects that he wanted to work on. In the span of a few hours, I ended up interviewing with him, being told that they would let me know because there was another student they were considering, and later being called and told that I got the position. I was ecstatic. I called my parents in tears. This was actually happening; I was actually going to be able to start my PhD.

It all happened so fast. It all seemed so exciting. The dean seemed very enthusiastic and pleased that I would be working with him. Things eventually took a turn for the worst...

Transitioning into graduate school itself is extremely difficult. Many graduate students find themselves experiencing heightened stress and strain on their mental health. I did not give myself the space to transition into graduate school without the added stress of being a doctoral student, without the added expectations. On top of that, the dean had not had a graduate assistant before. This was new for him too. The expectations of me were blurred and my contract would only last for a year to be considered for possible renewal (the typical TA contract in my original department lasts 4 years), this led to disaster. I needed this position to continue to fund my studies, so I needed to make sure that I was on top of my work expectations. Because these expectations were unclear, the dean's secretary took advantage. It seems they were short staffed, and I was given administrative tasks that did not belong to me. I was made to come in to the office for strictly 20 hours a week. (Our contract states that we work up to 20 hours a week). If I was ever sick and missed a day, that would be added onto the hours for the next week. So if I missed a day where I was supposed to be in the office for 5 hours, I'd have to be there for 25 hours the following week. A breach in the contract, I know - but who was I, a lowly student, against the dean? This office (a shared space) was not a place where a person could focus on studying. There were students coming in and out, loud conversations occurring, and having to see if the actual student employee in charge of taking phone calls was at their desk - if not, I would have to man the phone. While I was doing administrative tasks for the dean's secretary, the dean was having me create themed presentations and CO-LECTURE with him. Me, a person who had been an undergraduate student only months earlier. I had to create these presentations from scratch and know all of the material. All of my focus had to be on this. My performance in my own classes and mental health declined quickly. I could not focus, I could not get my reading assignments done, I felt unprepared. I felt like a failure.

After a year, I realized that it was not worth to have my tuition paid for if I could not focus on my classes and was set up for failure. It took a lot, but ultimately I turned down the contract renewal. Here comes the fun part. My GPA dropped tremendously. I graduated Magna Cume Laude just a year before. I developed depression and didn't realize it; to the point where a friend practically made me go to counseling. The office manager at my actual department knew what I was going through. I had shared a lot of my experience with her. She advocated for me. Because of this, I was told that there was a student who had been awarded an assistantship for the incoming Fall 2019 semester, but had decided not to take it. The contract was going to be made for me instead, for not 4 but for 5 years since I had only come in with a BA degree. When they ran it through the associate dean's office... it was denied. My GPA was lower than the threshold. A LOT lower. I was told by the GPD - the same woman who had just started her position that said she would help me, the woman that had gone on maternity leave during that whole year after she started meaning she was not aware of the situation - that I should really take my studies more seriously. She received a very long email from me and apologized afterwards, to say the least. Nothing could be done.

I had no funding, only savings and ended up working Full Time in Fall of 2019 in order to try to pay for 1 course, that costed me a little over $3,000. Somehow, even though I strongly considered it, I managed not to drop out. By this time, the majority of the courses I had taken before had INs - incomplete grades. Two of them had automatically turned into Fs. Things were not okay.

I got a bit of a mental break during that Fall semester. I worked in a friendly environment. The office manager pulled some strings and let me work as an office assistant there... so I was still at my department, but working as staff. It was a little awkward. I'm eternally grateful to her, she became a close friend. And because of her, someone at another department got word that there was a graduate student who needed funding.

This office manager was good friends with a recently graduated phd student from our department who is now working for a different center in the university. Because she was part of my department, many of my current colleagues know her, and are good friends with her. We spoke, I rushed to get my GPA up to the 3.0 threshold and with the help of my professor's I was able to be awarded an assistantship with that center. I started in December of 2019.

Again, I was ecstatic. Things were looking up. When I went in for the first time, I immediately felt a huge difference. It was a smaller, more homey place; and a lovely environment to be in. The people there were sweet and caring. I've gotten along with the few professors I've had the chance of meeting and working with.

Where did it start going downhill? The professor that recommended me (graduate from my home department) continuously requested that I work with her. Her reason being that I got along better with her (something that I was not aware of). Because she considered herself as my friend, professional lines were horribly blurred. I found myself doing additional work for her as a "favor for a friend." She then started having us meet multiple times a week for hours - distracting from the time I needed to actually get work done. This center does not cap classes - I've had to grade for up to 400 students in one semester. The meetings she scheduled were incredibly unproductive, and I found myself having to take extra time to get the grading done. Again, my own studies were effected. The past academic year went on like this. I ended up assisting in creating a new course and new assignments from scratch.

Later I noticed that something was wrong. I was doing way more work than stipulated by my contract. She was giving me access to her courses that I was not assigned to grade for. Instead of assisting for one course in the semester (the one with the highest enrollment), I was assisting for three. This was constantly under the guise of 'friendship'. How was I supposed to reject my 'friend'? When I tried to draw professional boundaries, I was met with resistance.

My mental health declined again in the fall and I missed a few of her scheduled meetings (meetings which she said were NOT mandatory). Because of this, she decided to throw me under the bus with the director and making it seem as if I was not actually working - when I was addressing students' needs and getting grades in. This worsened in the Spring. With the help of my counselor I finally got the courage to communicate with her. Albeit through text, because she's the type of person that does not allow you to get a word in during conversation.

"On that note, there’s something I’ve wanted to talk about. I’ve been struggling with concentration and fatigue. This is something that I’ve been working on with my doctor to try to find solutions. I’ve noticed that being in Zoom meetings in general where there’s casual conversation makes it exceptionally difficult for me to focus on what I’m trying to get done. This has been problematic in the work zoom meetings. You probably have noticed I seem really quiet, that is because I’m trying my hardest to focus.

I need to be able to focus during the time I’m assigned to work as a GA. Otherwise, I must take more time to complete tasks that normally wouldn’t take up that long or just wait until the weekends to finish them. That is conflicting as I have set that time to work on class assignments and my own projects. So in the end I end up falling behind and not working well because my productivity levels are being affected."

She seemed to understand me and be supportive. Then I noticed coldness, and condescending passive aggressive texts from her part.

I realized that I could not do this any longer. I could not allow myself to continuously be taken advantage of. Both of the people I've worked for were aware of my vulnerable situation due to migration status. They both knew that it was not easy for me to pay for my studies through any other means. My studies depended on these people, and if they 'liked' me. They abused and absorbed my time to the extent that my studies suffered tremendously.

But I finally stood up for myself. I spoke with the director and she affirmed that my concerns were valid. Time and time again she assured me that my studies should always come first. She supported me. I will no longer be assigned to work with this person.

I finally feel heard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been 3 years since I started my program. A lot has happened in this time. I have a lot of catching up to do this summer if I want to stay on track and take my comprehensive exams by the end of the year. But someone finally heard me, acknowledged the wrongdoings and helped me.

Don't let people walk over you and take advantage of you. I'm learning this the hard way.

Speak your truth.

[babiemingoo]

lollipop boy || jeon wonwoo

summary: greaser!wonwoo is only kind of your friend when he comes up with a stupid (but brilliant) plan to piss off your ex boyfriend and test just what person you claim to have become

genre: greaser!wonwoo, suggestive? || wc: 2.6k

a/n: this is actually a snippet of my next series I have planned, so I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

This was awkward.

As you sat there, thumbs twiddling mindlessly in an attempt of a distraction from the tension, you couldn’t escape how awkward of a situation you were in. When your friend Sien had texted that she was running late but someone should already be there waiting, you had hoped with every cell of your being that the someone wasn’t Wonwoo. But when you opened the front door of the diner nestled in the middle of your hometown, the only member of your newfound “friend group��� that had arrived on time was, of course, Wonwoo. 

The diner was classic, with a neon sign hanging above the milkshake bar and a worn down jukebox near the corner window looking like it had survived every teenager in your town since the 1940s. The color scheme of red, white and gray made the boy wrapped in a shiny black leather jacket look even more so out of place than he already was. He never seemed to care, though, always sat in the exact same spot on a Wednesday afternoon, flipping through his auto vehicle magazine with a lollipop between his lips while his friends bustled about excitedly. Except, his friends were late, and now it was just the two of you together despite the fact that you had spoken more less 20 words to him since you met.

If silently sitting across the said boy wasn’t awkward enough, the diner was pretty dead for a Wednesday when most people your age tended to trickle in - except for, with your luck, your ex boyfriend. Him and your old friend group were huddled about in the opposite end of the diner, next to the jukebox that you knew they liked to hang around to play their favorite 70s songs while they loitered. None of them seemed to have noticed your arrival apart from the boy that you used to spend every Wednesday holding hands with. Now you two side glance at each other, looking away in the split millisecond when your eyes meet and pretend like it didn’t happen. You repeat the action probably five times before a deep voice pulls you out of the routine, “So much for hating his guts, huh?”

Wonwoo’s still skimming his eyes through the words printed next to a picture of a motorcycle in the magazine, but you know he was the one that had just spoken to you. “What are you talking about?” You question him, feigning ignorance. His deep chuckle cuts through the air as you observe the candy he has wrapped in his fingers, just an inch away from his mouth so he’s able to voice out his thoughts. One thing you had noticed about Wonwoo was that he always had a lollipop with him. Sometimes it was green, or purple, or even blue; but today it was his classic red shade. His usual soda was always red, all the candy he bought at the liquor store was red, and the chapstick that he would pull out every now and then was that of the same color and flavor; the one you have realized to be his favorite. Cherry.

“You tell everyone how much you hate him for what he did to you, but you keep making love eyes at him,” The boy across from you states in a tone that you’re sure is dripping with arrogance. “Not surprised though. I told Sien that you would run back to rich boy the first chance you got.”

You scoff at the audacity he had. The two of you may have been in the same friend group, and you’ve come to have a soft spot for a few of them - like Sien and Jun - but Wonwoo speaks as if he has a right to judge you or any of your past. Wonwoo was the only one out of the group of greasers that you felt hadn’t really taken to you and you’re certain it’s because of your old friends and boyfriend that he hated so much. Every part of you itched to prove him wrong about every assumption he had made about your life. “I’m not going to run back to him!” You say to him with determination, in a low voice. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, Wonwoo closes the magazine. He quickly folds the corner of the page he was on to not lose his spot, shuts it, and pulls the lollipop out of his mouth again before saying, “Everytime we meet up at a spot and he’s around, you both make puppy eyes at each other like you’ll run into each other’s arms in a flower field and sing love songs. Even I can’t ignore it and I make it a point to half ignore everyone. Just admit you want to make your boy toy miss you, get your job done and go back to your perfect little life. Don’t drag my friends into this.” The way his voice comes out is laced with venom and you feel it. You always had a hunch that Wonwoo held dislike for you rather than indifference, but this is the first you’re hearing of his theory that you’re just using your new friend group to prove something to your ex. 

“I’m sorry if the guy I was with for three years and had to break up with a few weeks ago still holds a little part of my heart,” You retort with sass. “But I’m not going to go back to him. What he did was so completely fucked up and even if I’ve been with him for that long I have more self worth, I know that I deserve more-”

Ding.

It was a bad habit of yours to leave your ringer on. A habit that had got you written up in class more times than you can count, one that got you caught during friend gatherings when you and Seungkwan were trying to sneakily talk behind the other boys’ backs. And now, it was a habit that had you caught up with Wonwoo. The brightness of your phone screen was almost mocking in the way that it illuminated the notification you had just gotten from your ex boyfriend standing across the room, letters sewed together in a text that said, ‘hey can we talk?’

You catch the text message in the corner of your eye and Wonwoo does, too. He laughs; a deep chuckle of satisfaction that matches his tone when he says, “Preppy boy is calling. Shouldn’t you go kiss and make up?”

It’s silent for a beat. Wonwoo is infuriating in the way that he’s never gone easy on you, even the first day you had met, Sien bringing you to their table with tears streaming down your face and his first sentence to you had been a tease. He’s infuriating in the way now that he’s fully expecting you to turn around and head in your ex’s direction to talk. He’s infuriating in the way that you consider actually doing it.

“Well?” He questions, head nodding towards the man who used to occupy all your time and all your thoughts. Instinctively you turn around and make eye contact with him for the sixth time that day and his eyes are pleading, waiting. Waiting. Just like you had been sitting, waiting for him all those days and weeks while he had been running around, betraying you, lying to you- 

“Aren’t you going to go talk to your lover boy?”

“No.”

The answer leaves your lips before he can even finish his question. Truthfully you were hoping Wonwoo would look impressed, or a little surprised in the least. He doesn’t. All he offers you is a smug grin as his tongue peaks out of lips, lapping at the red lollipop a few times before he speaks, “Bullshit.”

You want to counter his cockiness but he beats you to it, adding, “Don’t string it on, sweetheart. The others will get here and then you’ll have to explain just how weak you are for your ex in front of all of them. I won’t say anything to them; you can do that yourself later. Just go back to your preppies where you’d rather be.”

Sweetheart? Weak? Where you’d rather be? Gosh, the nerve Wonwoo always had with you. You roll your eyes before crossing your arms at him, vision narrowing, “I’m not going to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to him. He fucked me over and now we’re done.”

“Really?” He questions with his eyebrows raised, but you know he’s mocking you. The boy wants to test you because he still thinks he knows you and that all his assumptions of you are right.

You want to prove him wrong. “Yup! I hate him and I don’t want anything to do with him. If I could make him see that him and I are completely done, I would.” The tone of your voice made every word come out with conviction. You wanted to make it a point that you think - no - you knew that you were done with your ex. Whatever the two of you had was completely finished after how he had mistreated you and your heart, and you needed to show that to Wonwoo. You need to show that to yourself. You wanted to prove him and everyone else who doubted you, wrong.

Ding.

Another notification. Another text message. Another attempt of your ex trying to crawl back into your life, your heart, the letters on your phone screen now fitting together to create your name in question. From the corner of your eye you can see his gaze; no longer pleading but begging. He wants to talk. The deepest, darkest depths of your heart will you to get up and listen. Your brain says to stay put. Another chuckle from Wonwoo.

“You sure you’re done with him?”

With gritted teeth, you harshly grab your phone and flip it upside down so the screen can’t mock you anymore. “I’m sure.”

Wonwoo finally looks just the slightest impressed by your reaction. But not convinced - not at all. Strangely, he gets up, says nothing as he walks around the table and sits next to you before facing you with a glint in his eye. His lollipop is wrapped around his mouth until he pulls it out again to say, “Prove it.”

This day is a bunch of firsts. The first time you’ve had a conversation with Wonwoo (albeit a negative one, but still), the first time you’ve gotten heated since you found out what your ex had done, and the first time you’ve ever seen Wonwoo so up close. Your eyes follow the creases of his lips, across his laugh lines which are - surprisingly - fairly prominent, past his nose and cheekbones and to his eyes, small but fierce and shaped in a way that has you wondering if you would’ve enjoyed looking at them under different circumstances. You try not to get yourself too caught up in the intricacies of his features and distract yourself by countering, “Prove what?”

“Put your money where your mouth is. You said that if you were able to make him see that you two were done, you’d do it. You said you don’t want to go back to him, then prove it.” The leather of his jacket squeaks a little when he shrugs.

“Wha- How am I supposed to-”

“Kiss me,” His tone is so casual in the way he says it, like every other word that he’s ever targeted at you hasn’t been spoken with condescending undertones and haughty implications. You want to keep your sassy facade but you begin to gape at him like a fish out of water, gasping for some sort of clarity on the situation. There is no way he could be seriously asking this of you when the two of you had barely established a frenemies relationship. In fact, it was more of the enemies than it is friends.

He smirks at the way you’re caught off guard (because he’s a little shit) and repeats himself while scooting closer, “You don’t have to, but as a guy I’ll tell you - if I saw the girl who used to be my everything kissing another guy after I had texted her asking to talk to her? I think I’d get the hint.”

You can’t help the way the cogs in your head turn together to make sense of what he says, even if it’s a bit out of left field. Technically, you did say that you would show your ex he no longer had a chance with you, if you were able to do so. You wonder if doing such a thing like kissing Wonwoo would give the boy across the room a big old fuck you like he deserved. Your gaze travels to the said boy, who’s eyes have changed to hold something of confusion and wonder. Was he confused at why Wonwoo had come to sit next to you? In an attempt to support or debunk your hypothesis, you scoot closer to Wonwoo, your hand finding it’s way against his jean clad knee where the frayed rips let you two meet skin to skin. 

The emotions behind your ex’s eyes shift. They’re shocked now; angry. Hurt. Those were the same feelings you felt all those weeks ago when the world came crashing down at your shoulders and your relationship went with it.

You take your attention and put it back on Wonwoo, who’s breath you can feel against your face with how impossibly close you two have gotten. He’s smirking again. Similar to moments ago when your eyes scanned over his face, his gaze begins to do the same to you; memorizing the dip of your cupid’s bow and the tip of your nose. 

The boy lets out a breath when his eyes find their way up, meeting yours. Hand on your waist. Head tilting, “Kiss me,” He repeats.

You lean forward. Your lips touch. He might have just meant a peck, just to get your ex riled up. But the way your lips fit together implied so, so much more than a peck. They move together, slotting against each other in a way that would’ve convinced anyone in the room that you two have been captivated by each other with adoration and nothing but. The thought of how mad your ex probably is begins to get buried in the back of your mind when you start to focus on him, Wonwoo, and the way that he feels. The way his right hand pulls you just the slightest bit closer even if there’s no more room. The way his left hand reaches behind your neck to cradle you in place like he wants the two of you to keep kissing for hours.

All thoughts of everything else that had been going on in your life begins to dissipate in your head as you get caught up in him. In this moment you only think one thing: Wonwoo. Wonwoo Wonwoo Wonwoo. Wonwoo in his leather jacket, Wonwoo on his motorcycle, Wonwoo holding his magazine, Wonwoo looking at you, Wonwoo holding you- It’s funny, because earlier today you were dreading Wonwoo. Now it seems like your subconscious craves him, head leaning forward as if he was going anywhere. You want to remember this; even if the future version of yourself is going to pretend like you didn’t enjoy it. So your tunnel vision goes completely there to his lips, his kiss. You make sure to note the way he tastes just so you can brand him and this kiss with it for the rest of your life. You’ll make sure to associate this taste with him forever so that every time you have another lick of it you’re reminded of this day that Jeon Wonwoo stole your breath straight out of your mouth. You memorize what your taste buds feel when you kiss him. Cherry.

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track three

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indiana was sure she’d never had a longer Monday in her life, and Tuesday wasn’t looking any better. Her lecture droned on and she did everything she could to stay engaged, from downing the rest of her water bottle to doodling on the side of her notes. 

Just as her professor started to move into the brachial plexus, she saw a small message notification appear in the top right corner of her laptop screen. A text, from Grayson.

Wyd? :)

It took all her power not to scoff in the middle of the room. The fact that he’d actually sent her a ‘wyd’ was almost too much.

learning, what’s it to yah

She scrolled to catch up with her professor, trying to keep up.

I’m bored

You want a vanilla oatmilk latte later, right?

Or did I not remember that right

Triple texter, of course. She typed out a quick shhh, unless you can teach me about the brachial plexus I gotta pay attention. I’ll text you when I’m out and turned back to her notes, scribbling out the diagram that her professor was drawing on the board.

But she still smiled when she got a p sure you just made that up but okay :) from him. 

Lecture sped up after that, her professor moving much too quickly through the nerves and innervations of muscles within the plexus that she could barely wrap her head around. She was going to have to review all of it again to even begin to fully understand. At least it wasn’t chemistry like it had been last semester - anatomy she could handle because at least it was interesting. Before she knew it she was closing her notebook and laptop, throwing them in her bag and heading out the door in a bid to get to the hospital faster. 

Little did she know, Grayson was waiting in line at Jet’s already, having come to the city much earlier than he needed to, toe of his Air Force One tapping on the tile as his nerves ran wild. He caught his reflection in one of the windows and paused to double check himself, just like he had that afternoon in his mom’s hallway, looking in the mirror that was hanging on the wall. Ethan had caught him in the act, and he knew it wouldn’t slip past him. 

“Alright, spill. You’re being sus.” Ethan’s words were garbled by the PB&J  in his mouth, but it still made Grayson panic a bit.

“Am not.”

“Cut the shit Gray, you only wear belts when you’re trying to impress somebody and I highly doubt you’re trying to woo over the kids. What’s her name?”

“I hate you.” 

“Interesting name.” That earned him a middle finger.

“Indiana.”

“Actual interesting name. She cute?”

“Very. And smart. And funny too. Good with kids.”

“And tick tick tick go the soulmate boxes. You gonna try to make a move?”

“We’ve talked one time bro. That’d be bold.”

“Yeah, and you’re you.You fall in love when somebody blinks at you right. Case made. Let me know when the wedding is.”

Grayson didn’t have a comeback for that, so he just huffed a bit and let out a “fuck off” before he turned to head for city an hour before he needed to. 

“Next… Next.” 

He pulled his head up, realizing the line had disappeared in front of him. He moved up to the counter, hoping he’d remembered her order right since she’d yet to answer him again.

“Can I do a large dark roast, and a large vanilla oatmilk latte please?”

Down the line, a man with an impressive beard and large gauges perked up as Grayson put his card into the reader. 

“Wouldn’t happen to be for Indiana Cross would it?” 

He wasn’t sure what the right answer was, so he just went with the truth. “Yeah, actually it is.”

Based on the way that the man squinted his eyes at him, Grayson realized it was apparently very much the wrong answer. 

“And you are?” He asked.

“Grayson.”

“Grayson.” He repeated, obviously waiting for an elaboration.

“I uh… I volunteer with her at the hospital?”

Right answer. The man relaxed, going back to making coffee with a nod. He tried to run through the possibilities while he waited for the drinks. Brother? Probably not. Ex-boyfriend? Possibly. 

“She’s a good egg, used to work here before school got to be too much. You’re lucky to have a friend like her,” he said after passing over the drinks. 

Protective manager. Not what he expected, but he understood. He had a feeling it wasn’t just him who had gotten attached so quickly.

“Yeah, yeah I am for sure. Thanks, have a great day.”

“You too…” he trailed off, waiting. He didn’t know if he’d forgotten his name already or just didn’t want to admit he remembered it.  

“Grayson.”

“Right. I’m Patrick. See you around.” 

“Yeah man, see you.” 

Grayson headed out the door, balancing one cup on top of the other so he could text her quickly. 

You at the hosp yet?

no, I’m not at the ‘hosp’ haha I’m walking there now

You didn’t text me when you got out of class

I’m hurt

boo hoo

:(

Lemme just 

Throw this coffee away real quick

hey hey now those are fighting words

oh shit I never texted you about the coffee, but you were right, vanilla oatmilk latte

I’ll give you a pass this time since you were learning about the brachial whatever

You’re lucky im awesome and remembered

wow

the most awesome

love to see it

just wait outside of jets, I’ll be there in a minute

Okay :)

He did as she asked, moving out of the steady stream of people that were on the sidewalk to watch people who passed, waiting for her. Every time he saw a head of blonde hair he perked up, until finally he recognized her moving towards him. She was dressed more casually than on Sunday, with a baggy crewneck on with her jeans and Air Force Ones. 

She noticed him a moment after he saw her, so by the time she laid eyes on him he was beaming, putting his phone away and moving towards her. 

“A large? You spoil me,” she teased, taking the cup from him gratefully. It was delicious as always, but she was more focused on his outfit – a tight black long sleeve shirt tucked into a pair of nice maroon pants, a large belt buckle resting on his waist. 

“We match,” he grinned, pointing a toe out to show off his shoes. It was about the only thing that matched – she felt frumpy next to him in her comfy clothes that she wore to class. Even her Air Forces were dingy compared to his, dull and dirty.

“Uh huh, right. I didn’t know that our first joint Buddies meeting was a fashion show, give a girl some warning next time, will yah?” 

“Oh shut up, you look cute.” 

Her eyebrows went up as she looked down at herself, then back at him. He threw her back the same look of disbelief.

“Did I stutter?” He asked, practically daring her to argue with him. She just blushed and shook her head, taking a drink of her coffee as they started towards Frazier. They walked shoulder to shoulder and Indiana was grateful – it was fractionally less common in the colder months, but she always got her fair share of cat calls on the streets. After getting to know him, she didn’t find Grayson even slightly intimidating anymore, but she still had the image of him on that bench, broad and serious, and she knew it was no coincidence that everyone fell silent with him beside her. 

It was a new feeling, having to hold herself back. She’d never had the urge to wrap her arms around someone walking next to her, reach out and hold onto their arm, even just reach down to hold their hand. It made her giddy and skeptical at the same time as she tried to distract herself, watching the cars drive by, honking at each other. 

“Where’d you go?” Grayson hummed, bumping her just barely and pulling her out of her head. Her heart swelled a bit hearing her signature phrase fall so easily from his lips, which seemed much pinker than she’d last remembered as he took a sip of his coffee and waited for her answer. A few moments later he quirked an eyebrow – a very well-manicured eyebrow. Did he get those waxed? She resisted the urge to reach up and smooth down her own that she knew were bushy and definitely not as nice as his.

“Indiana. You good?” He tried again, 

“Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah I’m good, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I was just checkin on you. Do we have a plan for this meeting or do you normally just go with the flow?”

“Depends on the mood she’s in. I’ve got some stuff in my bag – cards, my school stuff cause she likes to help me study sometimes. Other times she just likes to play 20 questions or hang out and talk. You’ll be the new shiny toy, so prepare for a bunch of questions. Especially about your teeth earrings.” 

He balked as they got to the doors, following her quick steps into the lobby.

“I’m sorry my what?” 

“It’s not everyday someone has diamonds in their teeth sir.”

“Okay but they aren’t teeth earrings, give me some fucking credit.”

“Definitely teeth earrings.”

“Jewels.”

“Teeth. Earrings. Oh my god, I’m gonna introduce you as teeth earring guy.” Her laughter filled the elevator as they stepped in.

“Oh god,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the side of the little box as it moved up to the second floor. Indiana gave her most mischievous grin when the doors opened, walking quickly through the halls. It took Grayson a minute to realize that she was trying to beat him to Bekah’s room and he sped up his steps, trying to keep it casual as he passed rooms of kids and families, walking as fast as he could without full on running down the hall. They didn’t see the nurses laughing at their antics, but they didn’t care. Indiana side stepped into Bekah’s room abruptly, so fast that Grayson almost knocked her over trying to stop behind her. 

Bekah was up walking around in a hoodie and leggings, and when she turned she immediately pointed over Indiana’s shoulder.

“Teeth earring guy!” 

They couldn’t help it – they both busted out laughing, Indiana grabbing onto his shoulder to keep herself from falling over. When they finally got it together he spoke up first.

“My name is actually Grayson, but you can call me teeth earring guy if you wanna.”

“I’m Bekah Newcomb. Mandatory intro spiel, I’m 15, stage 3 leukemia. My parents aren’t pieces of shit, they just work a lot so they’re never here. No siblings because why mess with perfection. Any questions?” 

Indiana bit her tongue – she had forgotten about the spiel, forgotten that it was Bekah’s favorite way to test new people, make them uncomfortable. Her eyes flickered over to Grayson, but he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Only one, but it’s very important. You ready?”

“Hit me with it,” she said, anxiously waiting. 

“Is cereal a soup?” 

Indiana couldn’t have planned a better intro for the two of them – they bonded so quickly right there before her eyes, debating the constituting factors of soup, and it had her melting to see him interacting so easily with the girl who meant so much to her. Bekah didn’t even attempt to put up her usual front, just laughed and joked with him as if she’d known him for years. The hours flew by, games of war and BS passing the time as Bekah sat at the top of her bed and Indiana and Grayson sat at the end of it, knees touching as they resisted the urge to peek at each-others cards. 

The only hiccup came when Bekah got her meds at 7, but she put on her best show for Grayson, managing to keep her stomach settled enough to avoid puking. It was the most fun visit either of them had had in a while, and Bekah fought her drowsiness until visiting hours were over at 8. Indiana had to be the voice of reason, starting the goodbyes before the nurses came to kick them out.

“Are you both coming back on Thursday?” Bekah called out as they headed for the door. 

“Hell yeah we are. Want us to bring anything?” Grayson grinned.

Indiana liked the sound of us.

“Cereal, so we can test our theories.” 

“You got it. See yah Thursday Beks.”

“See yah Thursday, Earrings.” 

His laugh was so loud that the nurses at the desk peeked their heads around to see what was happening – but they were smiling up at the two of them as they signed out and started down the hallway they’d come up. 

As soon as they cleared the ocean hallway, Grayson turned to her.

“Was that okay? Like was that good?” There was genuine concern in his voice, and Indiana had to bite back a laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am.”

“Grayson she loved it. She loved you. I haven’t seen her smile that big since she’s come in for this round of treatment. Were you worried about that?” She didn’t stop herself from reaching out and holding onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly as they stopped walking. 

“A little,” he admitted, relaxing under her touch.

“You’re a natural, I told you that. I promise you did great, I wouldn’t bullshit you.” 

He stopped walking for a minute, and there was an intensity in his gaze that had her stomach fluttering.

She didn’t know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t for him to say “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Now?” Stupid answer.

“Well, it is dinner time. But if you aren’t hungry I could wait a while. Or if you don’t want to go, that’s totally okay, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything just cause we’re doing this together and we share a buddy and-”

“I want to go to dinner,” she cut him off, and he could see the hesitation on her face.

“I sense a but coming…”

“But -”

His heart sank a bit - he’d fallen into the trap he always managed to get himself into, falling too quickly, making his move too fast. But it was natural to be next to her, to talk to her, to have her hand stay on his shoulder. He liked the feeling of her there, the sound of her laughter and the brightness of her smile, and he couldn’t quite hold himself back it seemed. It made the rejection he knew he was about to get hurt even worse. 

“But, I have to study tonight,” she sighed, and there was a genuineness to it that had him breathing a bit easier. She actually seemed disappointed, and the hope he felt rose up again.

“Oh yeah, the biceps whatever thing, that shit sounded complicated.”

“The brachial plexus, but A for effort,” she teased. “No but seriously, I gotta get that shit down or I’m gonna forget everything she said about it today. But I really do wanna go to dinner, I’m not blowing you off.” She rushed through her reassurances, dropping her arm and starting to walk again, towards the stairs this time.

“I believe you. How about Thursday, after we hang with Beks?” 

“Yeah, I can do Thursday!”

“Gang.” Fuck. He’d been doing pretty well at hiding all the slang he’d picked up in LA.

“Did you… what?”

“Nothing, pretend you didn’t hear that. Thursday sounds great. Oh, before I forget, can you bring some non-dairy milk with you when you come?”

She paused for a minute, looking up at him from a few stairs below like he’d grown another head.

“You want me to bring milk… non-dairy milk… to dinner.”

“No! No no, for the cereal! I just have a long drive and I don’t want it to get all gross and hot on the way, and since you walked I figure you live close by. I can venmo you for it.”

“Oh! Yeah, I can bring some, you don’t have to venmo me for it, no biggie.”

“Okay cool. Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t ask you to bring milk on a da- to dinner. Bring it to dinner. That would be… weird.” His cheeks burned hotter than he realized they could. The fact that he’d almost slipped and said date had embarrassment and panic coursing through every inch of his body, and he could already hear the way Ethan was going to laugh when he told him the story later. 

Of course Indiana heard it, but the way he was blushing to his ears had her pretending she didn’t.

“Thursday it is then,” she grinned, opening the door of the stairwell and holding it until Grayson passed through. The massive windows of the lobby were painted indigo, washed out a bit by the city lights but dark nonetheless. 

“Damn it’s dark,” he muttered. Even though it was beginning to get dark earlier now with autumn on the horizon, it was still much dimmer than he was used to.

“It’s supposed to storm the rest of the week, probably just the clouds,” she shrugged. She looked small for the first time to him, headed towards the doors.

“Can I drive you home? It’s really dark out.” The words came out before he could think them over - that seemed to be the effect she had on him. 

“Oh, it’s okay! I only live like three blocks from here, by the time you get your car I’ll probably be home,” she reassured him with a smile.

“Can I walk you then? I don’t like the idea of you walking out there in the dark by yourself.”

She paused at the door, and he half expected her to turn and remind him that she was very much capable of walking herself. But she surprised him, as she always seemed to do.

“Yeah, yeah that would be really nice actually. If you don’t care.” 

“No, I’d love to. You ready?”

She nodded and pushed the doors open, hair blowing back in the wind as she walked outside. The temperature had dropped significantly, the true sign of a storm coming through just as she’d suggested.

He took his spot beside her, shortening his strides so he didn’t stray too far from her, standing tall and broad. Indiana felt small next to him, but in a good way for once. It was even more comforting than earlier, and she took slower steps than she usually did, trying to draw it out as long as possible. She tried to convince herself it was because she wanted to procrastinate studying, didn’t want to have to tackle her notes, but in reality she knew it was because she didn’t want the night to end. 

It was a comfortable kind of quiet, the bustle of the city streets creating the perfect background noise as they weaved down the sidewalks. Indiana felt like if anyone looked at them they’d be able to see the little bubble of nervous energy surrounding the two of them - it had her feeling like she was back in middle school, giddy because the cute boy looked at her for two seconds.

Much too quickly, her apartment building appeared, tall and imposing in the dark.

“This is me.”

“Damn, that really was a short walk.”

For once, she wished it had been longer.

“Thanks again for walking me.”

“Yeah, yeah no problem, anytime. Um… have a good night.” He could hear the awkwardness in his tone, felt like it was palpable in the city air.

“Goodnight Grayson. Drive safe.”

“Goodnight Indiana. Sleep safe.”

That earned him his new favorite smile, but only for a moment before she disappeared into the lobby.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Bro, will you fucking focus?” 

There were few things that annoyed Grayson more than his brother taking too long to finish his reps on the equipment, but that day he’d become his own pet peeve. In his head, distracted, constantly checking his phone - and Ethan was beyond annoyed.

“Alright, out with it. The fuck is goin on in there?” Ethan smacked Grayson’s head lightly, concern starting to overpower the annoyance. 

“It’s nothing, let’s just finish this shit before it rains again,” he huffed, moving to the single pull up bar that he’d built last year and starting his reps. The sky was a dreary gray, the cold of autumn starting to come in and clinging to everything it touched.

It wasn’t nothing. Actually, it was much much more than that, and Ethan knew it too, but he didn’t pry. Yet. He did his best to keep his brother focused for the rest of their Wednesday work out, encouraging him to get more reps, to push a bit harder. It didn’t seem to clear his head at all, and Ethan held his tongue for a few more hours, waited until they were both showered, in fresh clothes and in the kitchen making lunch for him to finally ask again.

“Is it the girl? Indiana?”

Grayson didn’t answer, but the look that he threw Ethan from his spot in front of the stove told him enough.

“What’d she say? Lemme see.” 

He passed his phone over, moving back to stir soup he was making as Ethan read the message. Grayson remembered exactly what it said, even if his twin didn’t mumble it out as he read.

“Hey, about dinner tomorrow. Turns out my sister and brother in law are moving out of my place (finally) because Charlie got a new photography deal and I promised I would help them move :( but we could do dinner on Saturday night if that works for you still? If not it’s okay. What’s wrong with that?” Ethan asked.

“She doesn’t wanna have dinner,” Grayson muttered, watching the soup spin in the pot as he stirred.

“That is so not what that means. Is this seriously what you’ve been pouting about all morning?” Ethan had to bite back his laugh. He hadn’t seen his brother this in his head about something in a while, and he didn’t want to make him feel stupid for being worried. “If she didn’t want to have dinner, she wouldn’t have asked about Saturday.” 

“How do you know? You haven’t even met her.” 

“Cause I’ve had a girlfriend for two years. You just learn what they mean in their texts even if they don’t say it.” 

The last thing Grayson needed in that moment was a reminder that his brother was in a very loving relationship, but he let it slide. Eden had come into their lives a few years back, a fireball of take-no-shit and feminine power unlike either of them had ever seen. It was a learning curve, and Ethan was determined to ace the test. Grayson was glad that he had - she’d become a sister to him, and she brought fun and laughter to their life out in California. 

“Call Eden, see what she thinks,” Grayson said, scooping soup out into bowls for the two of them. Ethan did as he asked, pulling up facetime and letting it ring through until she appeared on the screen, wide smile bright against her tanned skin, California sun bright in the background. 

“Hey baby! What’s up?”

“Grayson’s having girl problems.”

“Oooo I love girl problems, hand him over,” she teased, still beaming when Ethan passed over his phone. 

“Alright hit me with it, what’s the tea?” 

Grayson tried to give her the short version of how he and Indiana had met, but he found himself elaborating with each detail that he remembered, from every word of the text down to the way she said goodbye the last time he’d seen her, only the night before. It felt like longer than that. 

Eden was quiet for a moment after he finally finished the story, but by her coy smile he knew she was just trying to figure out how to word everything correctly. 

“Okay, so first off, just to clear things up, she’s not blowing you off.”

He wanted to believe her, desperately, but the doubt must have still been obvious on his face, because she rolled her eyes before she launched into her explanation.

“She texted you today instead of tomorrow, which probably means as soon as she found out she told you. That’s a good sign. She’s nervous too, that’s why she said ‘if not it’s okay’, cause she’s trying to give you an out if you want it.”

He very much didn’t want an out. He actually wanted an in.

“The fact that she reached out at all shows that she cares, and she’s trying to set up another time which definitely means she’s interested. Most girls would just wait to see if you would set up another one, that’s what I would have done. Tested to see if you were invested. But if she’s willing to do it, that means she must be pretty sure of you. Or totally oblivious to the fact that you like her. Either way, you’re in good shape.” 

“Who said I like her?” He muttered, getting a barking laugh out of both members of his audience.

He let them fall into conversation without him, the quick catch up of their day that they’d been doing lately since they were on opposite sides of the country. It was hard for Ethan, but he managed it well, with plenty of sappy texts and nightly facetimes that would have Grayson gagging but secretly wishing he had someone to talk to like that.

He wondered what Indiana was like on facetime while he ate his soup. He wondered what her favorite color was, why she took oatmilk in her coffee instead of regular, what her class schedule was. Wondered what time she woke up on the mornings when she could sleep in, what she’d want to do on a real date, what her room looked like. He never realized how much mental space he had for someone other than himself or Ethan, and he found himself obsessing the smallest things, trying to ignore the butterflies it brought to his stomach.

Ethan didn’t help once he finished his call and started devouring his luke-warm bowl of veggie soup.

“Bro you’re in deep, I can tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this attached this quick before.” 

“There’s just something about her dude. It’s scaring me a little honestly. I’ve never felt like this about anybody, and I’ve literally only seen her twice. I mean, I barely even know her, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Is that weird?” 

Ethan thought of about twenty comebacks that he could have used, but he bit them back. He could feel his twin’s anxiety, and he wasn’t about to add to it.

“Nah man. It’s not weird. It’s intense, but it’s not weird. And hey, if she ends up being the one someday it’ll make a cute story. You hear all sorts of people say they fell in love the first time they saw their person, who says that couldn’t be you, yah know? But hey, I gotta meet her before you go proposing or some shit.” He bumped his shoulder with a smile, turning back to his bowl of soup so Grayson didn’t feel like he had to respond right away.

He thought on it for a minute, trying to process everything his brother had just laid out on the table. And then he pulled his phone out, clicked on his new favorite thread to check, and typed out his reply.

Saturday date it is

See you tomorrow :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Indiana Cross was never late. In fact, she was usually a minimum 10 of minutes early. But one too many outfits changes had slowed her down and she was cutting it too close for comfort - so close that when she looked out and saw the rain had started up again, she contemplated just running out into it and getting drenched instead of trying to make it back upstairs to get her umbrella. 

She peered out into the street through the lobby doors, trying to decide if the drops would be enough to ruin her outfit, when something caught her eye. 

A hand, waving quite cutely at her through the glass. 

Grayson was outside, massive black umbrella over his head and a wide smile on his face as he walked up to the doors, waiting for her. He hadn’t said anything about coming to pick her up, but her heart fluttered at the sight of him anyways - she’d seen him just a few days ago, on Thursday, where they’d sat on Bekah’s bed again and ate cereal and laughed and joked. But it felt like it had been forever, and with the added stress of moving Charlie and Devin out, and the hard goodbye that she didn’t want to admit was hard, she hadn’t really relaxed since she’d last seen him. 

He made sure there wasn’t a gap between the awning and his umbrella so she could duck under it without getting wet. As soon as she was under she made her move, if you could even call it that, and wrapped her hands around his bicep, trying not to gawk at how big it was. Instead, she looked up at him and scrunched her nose.

“Hi.”

“Hi there,” he beamed, and she could see the excitement in every single one of his features. “Figured I could walk you. You ready?”

She nodded, holding on to him as they started to walk down the sidewalks. His slow Jersey pace mixed with her short legs and quick New Yorker steps kept them perfectly in sync as they dodged puddles and soaked up the feeling of being together again. 

The conversation flowed as easily as ever, Grayson asking her how moving Charlie out went, if she was sad to have her sister so far away. They talked about Cameron going to school in South Carolina, and how he and Ethan couldn’t spend more than a week apart without going crazy. She talked about school, the assignments she had lined up for the week, the exam she had already started studying for even though it was next Friday. Every time they got to a puddle that was too big for both of them to walk around he guided her to the dry part, walking lightly through the water so he didn’t splash her. 

They got to the hospital much too quickly, and she let go of his arm reluctantly so he could pull the umbrella down and shake off the excess water before they made it in. Grayson led the way up the stairs and onto the unit, waving at the kids he saw, giving Andre a high five as he passed and asking the nurses how their shift was going. Indiana couldn’t help but notice the way the younger nurses - actually, all the nurses, seemed to be watching his every move, blushing and smiling at him as he passed.

She fought the urge to reach out and hold his hand, walking just a bit closer to him so their arms brushed against each other as they moved. It sent electricity through every nerve ending on her body, and she got so caught up in it that she almost forgot to stop him before they made it to Bekah’s room.

“Hey, one thing. I know we’re going on a date later, but let’s not have any… like us stuff, while we’re here. I don’t want Bekah to feel like a third wheel or anything, cause we’re here for her. Deal?” 

“Deal.” There was a prideful look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t have time to analyze it before she stepped into the room. 

Bekah was in her bed, curled up under the blankets on her side. Her head was wrapped in a light blue scarf - something her mom had brought her a few days prior, sweatshirts pulled down over her hands as she shivered. 

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he froze at his spot by the curtain. She looked sick, actually sick, for the first time, and it brought on a wave of memories and emotion that he wasn’t quite prepared for.

Indiana didn’t blink. 

“Hey you. How are you feeling?” Her tone was soft, soothing as she moved to her bedside and laid a hand on Bekah’s shoulder, starting to rub against her cold skin.

“S’ cold,” Bekah mumbled, burrowing down further, so far that Indiana could only see her brown eyes and the dark skin of her forehead.

“Want me to go see if I can get you another blanket?”

She nodded weakly, resting her head back on the pillow as Indiana stood up and moved over to Grayson.

“You okay in here by yourself for a minute?”

Grayson nodded, half to answer and half to convince himself. She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she disappeared out the door. He stood there in silence for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets, unsure of what to do.

Bekah peaked her head out just enough for her mouth to be visible before she spoke. 

“I’m not contagious, Earrings, you can come over here.”

The tension in his shoulders released and he walked over, sitting down as gently as he could on the edge of the bed.

“You’re weird,” Bekah said, eyes still closed. He panicked a bit, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Yeah? Why am I weird.”

“You don’t like being around sick people, but you’re volunteering at a kids hospital. Weird.” 

“I don’t think anyone likes seeing people sick,” he murmured, trying to word everything very carefully.

“Indiana likes being around sick people because she likes to help. I think you like to help too but it makes you uncomfortable.”

There was no malice in her tone, but it still made him let out a dry laugh.

“You’re an observant one, aren’t you.” 

“Not much else for me to do in here but watch people. But seriously, why’d you sign up to make yourself uncomfortable? Did someone tell you to?”

“Yeah, kinda. Someone told me if I could help that I should.”

“Your mom?”

“My dad actually,” he corrected quietly, toying with his fingers. Anytime he said his name out loud, no matter the form it took - dad, father, Sean - it was like he could feel it in his heart, a little tug on the original wound, a finger picking at a scab that wasn’t quite formed yet. 

“I’ll have to thank him for that some time. I like having you around, no matter how awkward you are.”

“Well thanks Beks.”

He was saved from his devolving thoughts by a very excited Indiana coming back into the room with not one, but three blankets stacked in her arms. 

“I declare it movie night,” she said, passing both of them their own blanket and rummaging for a remote, pulling up Emperor's New Groove before settling down into a chair on the other side of the bed. Grayson pulled one up so he could sit back, and without the distraction of conversation Bekah was out within the first 15 minutes, breaths deep despite the winces that she couldn’t hide. Indiana just ran a comforting hand over her arm until she lulled down further, tired muscles finally relaxing.

“She’s gonna be out the rest of the night, we might as well let her rest. You ready to go?” She asked after another twenty minutes, a bit of excitement returning to her eyes. 

He nodded, moving to fix Bekah’s blanket over top of her one last time before he clicked the TV off and left her to sleep. 

As soon as they signed out, he couldn’t hold back his questions.

“Is she getting worse? It seems like she’s getting worse.”

“Not necessarily. Chemo is weird like that sometimes, sometimes she’ll have good days with her meds, sometimes she’ll have bad ones. It’s just her body trying to fight for and against her at the same time. Exhausting, I would imagine. But she’s okay.”

“She doesn’t seem okay,” he said, looking back down the hallway before they went through the first set of doors.

“Hey.” He turned back to her, noted for a moment that her eyes were the same color as the painted jellyfish on the wall behind her. It grounded him somehow. “Don’t carry all this out here with you, it’ll wear you down. She’s in good hands, she’s sleeping, she’s safe. They’re doing everything they can for her, you’ve gotta trust in that.”

He knew that sometimes it didn’t matter how much they did, but he kept that to himself. 

“You want me to compartmentalize.” 

“A little bit, yes. It’s the only way you can survive something like this, trust me.” 

He did. And he knew she was right. So he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, let himself let go for a moment and breathe a bit easier. Without a hesitation, he reached a hand out for hers as soon as he opened his eyes, linking his fingers with hers. 

“Okay. Let’s go on a date then.” 

“Let’s go on a date,” she repeated, squeezing her tiny hand against his as they started down the hallway again. 

He’d hatched a whole plan, ran the whole thing by both Ethan and Eden. They were going to get dinner at a little vegan food truck that he had made sure would be close by, walk the High Line for the last hour that it was open, and finish off with a late night coffee from Jets. 

“Do I get to know the details of this date?” She asked while he opened the umbrella up outside and offered him her arm, almost as if she knew he was running through the itinerary in his head for the entire walk.

“Nope, you’re just along for the ride.” He grinned, trying to keep his confidence up as he started walking down the sidewalk.

For the first block, everything was fine. The rain picked up slightly, but nothing too bad, and it only made her hold onto him a bit tighter, leaning into him to avoid getting wet. He reveled in the feeling, holding himself back from leaning over and kissing her forehead. 

The second block, things got a bit worse. The wind began to howl, thunder booming so loud above them that they both jumped. It seemed to shake the buildings around them a bit, and Grayson bit his lip, scrambling to think of what they would do if it got worse.

By the third block, all hell broke loose. The rain was coming down in sideways sheets, soaking their shoes and pants as Grayson tried to angle the umbrella and keep Indiana dry. It worked for approximately two seconds before the wind inverted the umbrella, leaving them both entirely exposed. 

“Sorry, fuck, sorry!” He yelled over the roar of the rain, trying desperately to fix it as their shirts became heavy and wet. Their hair stuck to their foreheads, and when he pushed his back he saw that Indiana was laughing, laughing so hard that she leaned back slightly, clutching her stomach.

“C’mon, c’mon!” She grabbed his hand, dragging him along as they ran through the downpour. He followed her blindly, holding tight to her slippery hand as she weaved them through umbrellas and past people huddled under stoops. 

When she pulled him into the lobby of her apartment building they were both laughing, breathless and giddy, so loud that a few people turned to look at them.

They didn’t notice.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Grayson laughed, reaching out to rest a hand on her quivering cheek. He was cold too, but he didn’t care. He hoped the blush he got out of her warmed her up a bit. “Not to invite myself up or anything, but do you care if I get dried off?”

She rolled her eyes at him, just taking his hand and leading him over to the elevator. 

Unfortunately, a perfectly dry woman in her 40’s stepped on with them, and all it took was the sound of the water dripping off their clothes onto the tile for them to both break into a fit of giggles, Grayson’s mouth going wide in a silent cackle that had Indiana having to cover her own to keep from being too loud. She felt like a middle schooler getting scolded in the back of class until they made it to her floor, stepping past the woman with a muttered ‘sorry’ and wide smiles. They stared at each other until the doors closed, and then they were laughing again, holding onto each other’s shoulders as they tried to make it down the hallway and breathe at the same time. 

Grayson was wiping tears by the time they got to her door, still giggling to himself as he started to shiver, his clothes getting colder by the minute. He took his shoes off outside the door, not wanting to track even more water inside as she opened the door

Her apartment was a bit warmer than the hallway, a welcoming and simple space with a small kitchen to the left and a cozy living room in front of him. Without realizing that he had even done it consciously, he had imagined her in a place just like this, with the big windows on the other side of the room covered in rain. 

“Nice place,” he murmured.

“It’s no house, but it’s nice enough,” she teased. “Let me see if Devin left anything here that you can wear, hold on.” 

She disappeared into a room on the right and he made his way into the living room, showing himself around. The picture frames on the top shelf caught his eye for a moment, and he smiled at how cute she looked as a baby, how beautiful she looked in her dress with her sister beside her. The woman holding her hands in the last one looked just like her, and he was about to ask when he felt Indiana behind him.

“That’s my mom. Nicole.”

“She seems like a great mom.”

“Yeah, she was.” 

Grayson froze. Fuck. 

“Shit, Indy, I’m sorry I-”

She put a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. But let’s not talk about it tonight, yeah?”

He nodded, trying to swallow down his guilt. He knew what it felt like to have that sprung on you without a warning, and he wished he could pull the words back out of the air, back out of her mind. 

“Try these.” She passed him a pair of pajama pants. “I’m still looking for a shirt, I might have something that’s big enough for you. There’s a bathroom in my room if you wanna change in there.” 

“I can just go shirtless for a while, it’s no big deal,” he reassured her. Her eyes went wide for a moment, and he saw her swallow.

“Okay. I’m gonna change now.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until you’re done.”

They stared at each other for a minute before Indiana finally moved, going into her room to start rummaging through her own clothes. She changed faster than she ever had, throwing on a pair of leggings and a crewneck with some comfy fuzzy socks before she was back in the living room.

“All yours. Um, do you want anything specific for dinner? I haven’t gone to the store in a while, and I would feel bad making somebody deliver in this weather,” she mumbled. 

“Well, I’m vegan, but don’t worry if you don’t have anything, I can make it till I get home.”

In all honesty, he was starving, but he wasn’t about to end the date early because of a lack of plant based meal choices. 

“I’ll see what I have, go change so I can put your clothes in the dryer with mine.”

He did as she asked, moving into her room. It was similar to the living room - white bedding, simplistic artwork in wooden frames on the walls. But above her bed were an assortment of vinyls, and he actually gasped when he saw the one in the middle.

“You listen to Cudi?!” He yelled, running back into the living room. Indiana was in the kitchen with a cucumber in her hands, but he made her jump so hard that she almost dropped it.

“Yeah, do you?”

“I fucking love Cudi dude, he’s the best artist of all time. I can’t believe you listen to him too.” 

“Do I not give off Cudi vibes,” she laughed, putting the words in air quotes.

“No, you definitely do not.”

“What vibes do I give off then? Or do I not wanna know.”

“You don’t wanna know,” he grinned, flinching when she raised the cucumber like she was going to throw it.

“Go change Gray.”

He went back in, headed to her bathroom. It was much darker than the rest of the house, with a dark gray shower curtain adorned with wildflowers. He locked the door and stripped down quickly - his underwear were still damp, but he wasn’t about to go commando, especially if he was gonna risk having to hide a boner later. He had no idea how far the night was going to go, but he wanted to be ready for anything.

Standing there in the mirror in his boxers, he contemplated it for a minute, and then pulled a very 2016 Grayson move of dropping to the floor and doing a quick set of push ups so that his bare arms were a bit more swollen than they had been. 

He pulled the pants on, groaning a bit at how long they were, and how tight they clung to his ass. Worried that he’d spent too long in the bathroom he picked up his wet clothes and headed back to the living room with the ends of his pants rolled up three times so he didn’t trip on them.

“You didn’t tell me Devin was a fucking giant dude! How tall is that mans?” 

“He’s 6’5”,” Indiana laughed from somewhere he couldn’t see her, popping up with a loaf of bread and putting it on the counter. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, so much tanned skin stretched over thick bands of muscle that it had her mouth dry. She swallowed again before she spoke. “Just sit those down, I can put them in the dryer.” “I can do it, are yours already in there?” 

“Yeah, it’s over there.” She smiled and pointed to the doors in the hallway. He put them in and turned it on before he finally made it to the kitchen and saw the assortment on the counter. But she wasn’t looking at the food anymore - her eyes were all for him, and he felt himself fall nervous under her gaze again. 

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute.”

“Oh yeah, these pants are what do it for you huh?” He gave her a little spin just to make her laugh.

“Did I stutter?” She tilted her head to the side just barely, and it took all his self control not to lean in and kiss her right then. Instead, he just shook the thought from his head and stood close enough to where her shoulder was against his arm. 

“What’re we workin’ with?”

“Well. I’ve got apples, a few grapes, jelly, some lettuce, bread, peanut butter, a sweet potato and crackers. Sorry.” She was sheepish, and he just shook his head at her with a frown.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You trust my PB&J making abilities?” 

“That depends entirely on if you cut it into triangles or squares.” 

“Oh c’mon, it’s triangles all day,” he scoffed, getting a laugh out of her that had him floating. 

“Then yes, I approve. Do you care if I study while you make them? I just have a few things to go over.”

“Do whatever you gotta do,” he reassured her, moving to open the bread while she went back to her backpack. She was back quickly, with a stack of flashcards in her hands. 

“Here,” he cleared her a spot on the counter next to where he was working. “Sit up here, teach me some stuff.”

“It’s just vocab stuff, nothing interesting.” 

“Just say it outloud, maybe I’ll learn something.”

And so she did, laughing at the way his brows would furrow and the incredulous look he’d give her when it was a particularly long word. He took his time on the sandwiches, moving to cut up two apples and split the rest of the grapes between the two plates that he found after looking through the cabinets. 

He cleared his throat and held out the plate on the palm of his hand. “Bon appetit madam.”

“Why thank you,” she giggled, sitting her cards down and taking it from him gratefully. She stayed perched on the counter and he leaned back against the fridge, taking his own plate in his hands. She complimented the food as she ate, wiggling slightly in the cutest way. Finally, she spoke up.

“Since we’re here, do I get to know what the actual date plan was?”

“Nah, I’m saving that shit for the future,” he smiled, taking the last bite of his sandwich. Even he had to admit it was good despite the slightly stale bread.

“Oh the future huh?” 

“Yeah. Like next week.” 

“I’ll pencil you into my planner then,” she grinned, tossing a few grapes into her mouth. 

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not.”

“It’s not. Writing everything down keeps me sane I think.”

“Hey, organization is sexy,” he laughed, biting down on an apple slice. 

“Good to know.” Her words were a bit muddled around the bite she had in her mouth, and Grayson put his empty plate aside, content to sit and watch her finish her meal. It was so easy to be around her, and he didn’t second guess anything he did or said - he hadn’t realized until her how much he altered himself around everyone he met.

“10 outta 10 PB&J, I’m impressed,” she smiled at him, moving her plate to the side after a moment. He couldn’t help but notice the tiny bit of jelly clinging to her cheek, purple and sticky against her skin.

“You’ve got a little - here,” he stepped up to her, reaching a hand out and running his thumb over it to get it off. But he didn’t let go - not when she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, just like the jellyfish on the walls, and then he watched her look at his lips once before he leaned in. 

She tasted sweet, lips soft against his. They were both hesitant, not sure of how far to take it. Short and sweet, they separated and looked at each other. He felt like he could float away when she brought a hand up to his hair and pulled him back in for another. He moved a hand to the counter for leverage, leaning into her as she smiled against him.

“You taste like apples,” she whispered, and then they were both laughing like they had been all night, cheeks and stomachs sore in the best way.

“C’mon you, what do you wanna do with the rest of our date night?”

“We could finish Emperor’s New Groove?” She poised. 

He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her off the counter as she squealed, sitting her on her feet and taking her hand, headed to the living room. Ten minutes later and he was leaned back on the couch, feet up on the coffee table so she could curl up against his bare chest under the blanket while she scrolled through the film, trying to find where they left off.

He hoped that she’d undershoot it - anything to keep them right there, in each other's arms; bliss, as the storm raged on outside.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Delivery Boy ~ PJM [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count:1.9K

↬↬↬Genre: Fluffy, crack?

↬↬↬Pairing: Park Jimin x Actress!Reader

↬↬↬A/N: I’m sorry it’s so short hun!! but I hope this is to your liking! sorry it’s late, tumblr is deleting everything in my drafts for some weird reason

It had been so long since you'd had a day to yourself you'd almost forgotten what it was like, you were so rushed off your feet there was never any time to yourself. 

"You have a meeting with Dispatch at 10, then at 12 we'll all go for lunch before heading down to a press conference and from there it's-"

"Straight on a plane to London, I know." You didn't mean for your words to come out stressed and annoyed but it was how you felt. Your personal assistant had gone over the schedule with you four times already and you'd only been awake for twenty minutes. 

"Can you get me some water?" She left the room and you dove towards your phone to call your boyfriend - Jimin - you'd missed your regular skype date the night before. Shit. He wasn't answering which meant he'd already left on his flight to Paris and you'd missed him once again. 

"I'm coming in!" You heard a stylist yell from outside your hotel room door, instead of waiting for her, you headed into the bathroom to have a long hot shower. The thought of missing Jimin was getting to you, you'd missed each other all week if it wasn't you that was busy it was him. His voice sounded through his voicemail and you smiled as you heard it for the first time in days, you missed him. 

"It's Y/n, sorry about last night. I know I promised I'd be there but I got in from promotions and passed out in bed. Call me when you land, I love you." You hung up the phone and turned towards the shower. The water was steaming so you stripped out of your clothes and got under the showerhead, closing your eyes and just letting it all relax you. Letting the water melt away all your worries and stress that you had with your new movie promotions, once all of it was over you and Jimin could go back to how things were. Sneaking around but actually being able to see one another without being so busy you didn't have a second to breathe.

I'll be watching the press conference...wear something blue for me? xx You giggled down at your phone screen and told the stylist you wanted to wear something blue instead of the red dress she had selected. It had always been this way whenever you were away from Jimin, he'd ask you to wear a specific item of clothing or colour so he would know it was just for him. While you would ask him to do silly things on stage or in interviews to make you laugh, it was cute. 

"Any reason we're wearing blue today?" Your manager teased looking up from her phone, it was filled to the brim with all of your schedules and it was practically glued to her hand. 

"No reason." She knew you were lying, she was the only one out of your time that knew of your relationship with Jimin and that was only because she'd caught you both once. Jimin had snuck by to come and see you on set and you were in your changing room together, nothing was happening you were just making out on the sofa when she decided to walk in on you.

"Blue always looks amazing on you, it compliments your skin tone amazingly." You smiled at the newest makeup artist, she was a trainee that you had picked out of a list of twenty. She was inexperienced but no one was going to get anywhere in life if someone didn't give them a chance, someone took a chance on you and now you were a huge movie star. 

 The press conference had dragged on so long you thought you'd gotten stuck in some alternate universe where for some reason time moved slower.

"I'm ready for a week-long nap and then a week-long of eating nothing but junk food." You grumbled as you walked through the airport, you were walking with the newest makeup artist - Claire - who was laughing along with you. You were dressed in a big fluffy coat, with a mask and sunglasses to help hide your face from cameras. You looked drained and your manager didn't want people to see that since you were her number one star and 'always had to look your best.' 

"I'm serious, I'm so tired I think I might sleep for a month instead," She agreed with you as you linked arms and walked towards the terminal together. Over the last week of her being with you, she'd been nothing but kind towards you and you had grown close, so close in fact that you were roommates at your next destination but, it was your manager's idea and you knew it was to keep you from constantly calling Jimin.

"All passengers boarding to flight 166, this is the final call for flight 166." You sighed as you turned off your phone, there was still nothing from Jimin, he was supposed to call before your flight but the only notifications you had was your twitter going off with notifications about your arrival at Seoul Airport and how you were flying to your new destination now. Sometimes you wished your plans would work alongside Jimin's and you would end up together somehow but it was never meant to happen. 

Your manager's squealing voice was what woke you up when the plan was due to land, you buckled up and stared at her from across the aisle, 

"What did I miss?" You yawned at Claire who had been watching your manager the entire time, 

"Not sure, she was yelling down her phone for most of the flight, but we're here." You looked out of the window to see not Heathrow Airport but Paris-Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. 

"Did we catch the wrong plane, is that her problem?" You asked pulling down the blinds when the stewardess gave you a funny look, Claire shrugged her shoulder and you both watched you, manager until you landed. 

"We're in Paris..." You said to her once you were standing outside the airport, cameras were flashing everywhere and you smiled at them while waving and trying to look like you had expected this.

"Well spotted," Your manager was starting to seem too happy for someone who had just spent a nine-hour flight complaining the entire time.

"We have to go to your hotel, smile and wave." You did as you were told and got into the black sports range rover that was waiting for you and you decided not to press her for answers. You didn't want to spoil her unusually good mood by playing 20 questions with her. 

"Ah Miss Y/l/n," Your name was like magic to Jimin's ears, he looked up from his phone as soon as he heard it. He was walking through the hotel lobby to go to the dining room with the boys when he heard your name. His eyes locked onto the side of your head and took in your features, even after a nine-hour flight you still looked amazing to him, dressed in grey sweatpants with your hair tied back you still looked irresistible to him. 

"Oh my god, is that?" You followed Claire's gaze to see Jimin staring at you and every bone in your body wanted to drop your bag and sprint over to him bringing him into a hug never to let go again but you knew you were being watched. A small smile filled your face as you made eye contact with him across the room, he waved his hand and you waved back until your manager started pulling you in the direction of the elevator. Now you knew why she'd given you a roommate, it was to stop you and Jimin from being together at night, she wasn't trying to be nasty about it but if it ever got out that you and he were dating it would ruin everything in yours and his job.

"You know him?!" Your stylist asked once the doors shut, you were alone with her, your manager and your suitcases. 

"They're friends, really close in fact. I'll call up manager Sejin and arrange a meal for you both." Your eyes widened and your heart began to beat faster, was this her way of giving you her blessing? 

"That's so exciting, you guys would make the cutest power couple though." You laughed it off with Claire and both walked out onto your floor to find your bedroom for the next couple of days. Paris was supposed to be packed full of things for you to do, starting and ending with promotions with little to no free time to explore.

Knock, Knock, Knock. 

"Please be the food I'm starving." You groaned looking at Claire who was in the bathroom applying a clay mask to her face, you'd decided on having a pamper night together while watching some cheesy French romance movies that you'd found on the TV. 

"Me too." She whined, you jumped up from the bed and walked over to the door expecting it to be a pizza man but when you opened the door you were met by Jimin he threw one arm around your waist and held his other hand at the back of your head bringing you into a passionate kiss in the doorway. Everything around you melted away as yo started making out with him, your hands tangled into his blonde locks and you whimpered as he pushed your back into the wall beside the door, he kicked the door shut and began kissing down your neck. 

"Was it the food- Oh my god!" You both jumped apart and stared at Claire who was no looking anywhere but at you and Jimin. 

"Shit! Sorry! I forgot- I was just I erm...Jimin this is Claire, Claire this is Jimin." You looked at Jimin who was a bright red colour, his usual calm persona was faded away and he was a stuttering mess around you and her. 

"Good morning," You stared at him as he started repeating good morning over and over again as if it was the only English he knew which wasn't true since you'd been dating for a year now and he was fluent in it. 

"Jimin baby," You giggled pointing over at the window to point out that it was night time and he groaned hiding his head in your shoulder as you and Claire started to laugh softly at him. 

"I think I better leave you alone for the night, I'll go find one of the hairstylists." She winked at you, promising you before she left that she wouldn't say a word to anyone.

"Good morning?" He groaned as you reminded him and he walked you over to the bed laying you down and resuming the passionate makeout session that had started this mess in the first place. 

"Good morning." You started laughing but he pinned your wrists down to the bed and you knew he meant business then. He began kiss you once more and you kissed him back, eyes fluttering shut and arms wrapping around his neck when the doorbell to your hotel room rang. 

"That'll be food." You whispered telling him to go and hide in the bathroom until the delivery boy had left. 

"He wasn't as nice as my last delivery boy," You whined feeding Jimin a slice of pizza as you sat across from him, 

"My last delivery boy gave me this huge kiss, nothing can ever compare to...Maybe if I try a new hotel-" You were cut off by another kiss from Jimin and you giggled happily. You were content with this night, this perfectly chill night in together as you watched movies and ate pizza while cuddling, nothing would ever beat this. 

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @fan-ati--c​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @taestannie​

[lnarizakis]

E-GIRL: CRUEL INTERNET

IRLS 3

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1.7K WORDS | WITH KOZUME , KUROO , SUNA | SWEARING

Upon seeing Kuroo at the gate of his house, Kenma’s face scrunched up in contempt, which was something you couldn’t see, as you stood behind him, your hand in his. The both of you remained silent, with only Kuroo’s devious smirk silently telling Kenma he was here to prevent anything from happening. Not on his watch.

To answer his own question, Kuroo let out an “Ah!” as he took a good look at your pretty face, walking closer to the two of you. “You’re that beautiful streamer that everyone’s been talking about. ‘Junk-Thirteen,’ if I’m not mistaken.” You warmed to his words that dared to sweeten more than honey. He was suave in not only his personality but also his appearance, clad in a suit and tie that brags of his successful career.

“It’s Junkie,” you corrected him, “But everyone calls me Junk. It’s an internet alias.” In front of you, Kenma watched Kuroo’s toothy grin with cold eyes as he guided you into his home. Kuroo followed the both of you, remembering how Kenma once told him he was welcome anytime.

Kenma led you (and Kuroo) into his living room, where he sat you down to prepare something for (the both of) you to drink. You declined out of politeness, as the two of you had just finished eating not too long ago, but he insisted. Kenma left you alone with Kuroo in the living room.

It was an awkward silence, but it seemed to ease up as Kuroo told you that he was a fan. A smile grew on your face, thanking him.

“She’s quite shy, despite her awfully lewd actions on camera,” he thought to himself, as he shifted positions underneath the kotatsu. His leg grazed against yours, to which he muttered a quick apology when he watched your eyes drift downwards in the sudden contact.

“So, you’re a fan,” you started, wanting to break the silence between you two, “How was my stream a few nights ago? I feel like it was much less… intense, if you could call it that, than the usual, you know?” You kept that soft smile on your face, which made Kuroo think once again if he was speaking to the same person he thought about every night after watching your live stream.

His face was nothing more than blank; only awkward undertones at most. As only a new fan, he was rendered with nothing to say, other than “Ah, it was good. I enjoyed it—”

“I liked it, really. It was definitely something different from what you’ve done before, but it was still hot, nonetheless.” Kuroo turned around to see Kenma with a tray of drinks for everyone to share. He turned back to see your smiling face, evidently taking a liking to what Kenma told you more than you did with what he said.

As Kenma sat down, Kuroo and he exchanged that sneaky glance of “Oh, I will win.” It was unlike them to be competitive with each other, especially with a girl, and the both of them knew it. With this foreign competitive glint in Kenma’s eyes, Kuroo knew that if he were to go against him any further, it would cause a rift in their friendship…

… but you were just oh, so hot. Neither of them could resist it.

“So, Kenma, Junkie—”

“You can call me (Y/N),” you interjected. Kuroo raised an eyebrow at the sudden revelation of your name; it was so casual, and both he and Kenma were to brush it off like it was information they should have known. He smiled, knowing that you were comfortable with the both of them to get rid of the alias that covered the most basic part of yourself.

“(Y/N), how was your date together?” Kuroo asked, agitating Kenma. His question sounded like something you’ve heard before. It was on the night after your last stream, when you were planning for this day. He asked you if this “seeing someone” was to be a date or something, to which you responded similarly as you did now.

“A date? I guess you could call it that. I don’t know; it was a collaboration of sorts.”

“What do you mean?” Kuroo asked for clarification, and to dampen Kenma’s small mound of pride. He placed a hand on his thigh and the other around his drink, from which he took a long swig. Kenma stayed still; Kuroo would say that Kenma was sweating bullets, but he was dry-skinned. He was, instead, sweating fear of rejection.

Before you answered, you did the same. “Well, I mean, we were discussing co-hosting a stream together— you know, like, playing a game together on a stream.”

“Ah, I see. Well, from what I thought, it seemed like you would have wanted to get together with Kenma. You know, since you called him out with that one Tweet and everything,” Kuroo said. He brought up a point which brought you to a dead end: from the looks of it, you were the one who set up the “date” in the first place. He typed up a naughty comment on your stream, you responded to it, and yet you were rejecting the notion of a date.

If he had to be honest with himself, Kenma had to agree with Kuroo. Though, he never outrightly said so. “Well, Kuroo, this would have been a really good first date— we actually would have gotten together, like what you said— if you weren’t here.” He sided with you, and at the same time included dirty underlying themes in his words.

Kuroo didn’t know what to feel. Hurt, that his friend didn’t want him here? Proud, maybe, that he was being bold with you? In any case, Kenma’s words felt like a knife stabbed in his back. Kuroo placed a hand over his heart, as if it was pierced. “Ah, Kenma, your words hurt me.”

Kenma’s hostility remained in him. “My bad, I guess.” You tried to stifle your laughter, but the hand over your mouth gave way to Kuroo side-eyeing you as his own pride dampened. It truly felt like he was dealing with a double-edged sword.

You checked the time on your phone. It was getting late. “Ah, Kenma, Kuroo, it was very nice to meet you, but I should head home before it gets too dark.” You stood up, and both men did the same. Kenma followed your movements, as Kuroo stayed still.

“Let me let you out; it’s only proper for me to do so as the host,” he told you. You complied. It was a comfortable silence as the two of you maneuvered your way to the front door.

At the gate of his home, you turned to Kenma once more before leaving. “Thank you for having me over,” you told him.

“No, thank you for being here. I loved having you over.” Kenma couldn’t remember a time when he was being cheesier— yet so incredibly honest— than this. “You have my number, right?” You nodded, and told him you would text him once you’ve arrived home safely. Then, he watched your retreating figure grow smaller and smaller against the sunset.

He went back inside to wait for your text. Kuroo sat at the kotatsu, doing something on his phone. He made his own seat at the kotatsu, and asked him what all of that was about.

Kuroo asked Kenma what he meant.

“You know exactly what I meant.” Bitter words spilt from Kenma’s mouth, a stark contrast from Kuroo’s own sweetness when he spoke with you. The frown on Kenma’s face ran deeper, and it almost reminded Kuroo of Kenma’s exasperated faces from their high school volleyball days. Though, now was no time to reminisce about their past, for this was a conversation that was to shake the future of their friendship.

“Yeah, I do,” Kuroo admitted, “You’re really protective of (Y/N), Kenma, and for what? You hardly know her. Like, you want her all to yourself.”

“I don’t know. She’s just… irresistible.”

“I mean, I get it, man. You like her. She probably likes you back, who knows? But you really didn’t have to go out of your way to slaughter me like that. Embarrassed the hell out of me to make you look better. Shit, maybe you embarrassed her too.”

Kenma rolled his eyes. “Are you mad with me or something?”

“No, no, I’m not. I’m just saying you’re doing the most for her, when all she wants to get out of this is probably just a few followers from your side. Toxic as I can make it out to be, really,” Kuroo replied, finishing his drink. His legs grew sweaty underneath the kotatsu— whether it was from the sheer anxiety he felt of losing his closest friendship or the heat of the kotatsu, he wasn’t sure. He removed his legs from underneath.

“Why else, though, would she want to talk to me, out of all people? I mean, my comment on her stream was so dirty. She wouldn’t answer me unless she was horny, of all reasons!” Kenma said.

“Maybe she was looking for a friends-with-benefits type deal,” Kuroo suggested, adding in a little snicker. Kenma groaned, growing tired of Kuroo. He asked him to leave his house, which Kuroo did, promptly.

Before he left, Kuroo said over his shoulder, “Stay mad, Kenma! It’ll only bite you in the ass later.” He was blocked on almost every social media by Kenma.

Several days later, Suna came home from volleyball practice to see a Tweet by you that made his blood run cold.

@JUNK13 [9:20 PM] : going live with @kodzuken in 10 minutes! we’re going to play among us together <3

Another notification popped up on his phone that was from his friend Osamu. He was privately opening his restaurant for the night to gather everyone from their high school together for a small reunion. Suna, angry with whoever this Twitter user kodzuken was, declined the offer.

He received another text message from Osamu seconds later asking why. Suna just said he couldn’t go. Personal reasons.

He was just too addicted to you, and he knew this was sure to cause a problem.

@wansseul @shirasusgf @ay-leon @sadkaashistan @lcaita @hidden-wheels @tris-does-stuff @waitforitillwritemywayout @kozukth @denkis-slut @moncymonce @osamusamusamu @princessmidas @creativedogs @hnpriscilla @fantasiesofdreams @b4byama @akaasht | italicized: can’t tag