#drops tongs on the floor in front of customer while it's so busy

[myl0veletters]

sometimes life gets so rough i feel like a cartoon character

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 6

Title: the eagle, the seagull, the crow, and the Brazilians

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.3k (whoops)

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: this one’s a bit of a slow burn (more so than the usual hehe), but I promise it gets better near the 2nd half! There’s not much drama in this chapter, but I think y/n deserves a bit of a break ya feel? Enjoy, my dudes

Previous///Next

Tonight is a special night because it’s ‘Create Your Own Onigiri’ night! Your boss decided to hold this small event to try something new and allow his customers to have some fun in the process. There are laminated onigiri instruction sheets on each of the tables as well as a small customized menu created for this event specifically. You helped him post a couple announcements on social media about the event a week prior to inform the public, and so far, things have been going smoothly.

Osamu is mainly in the kitchen prepping any ingredients for the customers and you’ve been standing at the register as usual. You are pleasantly surprised at how much everyone was enjoying making their own onigiris, and it seems like people of all ages were having fun.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!” You greet automatically with a bright smile as the front entrance slides open. A group of very physically fit men walk into the shop with large sports duffel bags slung across their shoulders. Despite the slightly intimidating aura the group gave off, one of the males walked inside with a young child hugging his arm. You scan over all of them briefly and your eyes widen as you make eye contact with Ushijima whom you just met a little over a week ago when the Shiratorizawa alumni visited.

You gave the tall volleyball player a small smile. “Hey, Ushijima-san! What brings you back so soon?”

“You assured me that I should bring my team, and we all wanted to participate in the event today,” Ushijima responded back. “My teammate, Romero-san, is not from Japan, so we wanted to find a restaurant with traditional food.”

“R-right…” You didn’t expect him to actually bring his team any time soon, but you’re still amused at how seriously he took your words from before. You can assume that the only foreigner in the group is the ‘Romero-san’ that Ushijima spoke of. There are probably hundreds of other restaurants the group could’ve gone to for a more cultural experience, so you’re a little giddy that he chose to come here. “Well, it’s good to see you again! I’d be more than happy to help your team have a good time here.”

To Ushijima’s left, another tall figure stood with a resting scowl. His gaze made its way to the kitchen where Osamu was and immediately lit up in recognition. Although, there might’ve been some confusion. “Miya-san, I didn’t know you worked here. Don’t you have practice right now?”

Your boss lets out a short laugh as he looks over his shoulder to look directly at the boy who spoke to him. “Wrong twin, Kageyama-san.”

“Ah.”

Kageyama looks down and glares at the floor mildly distressed at his mistake. There’s a part of you that wants to laugh at his reaction, so you do so internally. Suddenly, you feel someone staring at you, so your eyes shift over in that direction to a male with white hair and round eyes. His stature and overall mannerisms reminded you of a certain orange haired ball of sunshine, so you couldn’t help but stare back a bit longer than you intended. There was a sudden shift in his demeanor and his eyes narrowed at you.

“Why you staring? Is it ‘cause you’ve never seen a volleyball player my height? You’re impressed by the Hoshiumi Korai, right?” The boyish male lifted up his hands as if trying to intimidate you, but in your eyes, he seemed completely harmless.

With a sweet smile, you calmly reply back to his accusations. “Sorry about that. You just remind me of a good friend of mine. He also plays volleyball, and you’re both around the same height. I haven’t seen you play before, but I’m sure you’ve worked hard to get to where you are now regardless of your height, Hoshiumi-san.”

You know you’ve startled him with your kind and composed response when he freezes in place for a couple seconds before dropping his arms back to his sides abruptly and looking away to hide a small grin.

The last two people in the group, whom you assume are father and son, seem to be in their own worlds as they converse quietly. Now seems like a good time to let everyone get settled in, so you step away from the register and gesture for them to follow you. “ My name is (Surname) (Name). You guys can follow me! There’s a table over there that can fit all five of you. Then, I can explain how things are gonna work for today.”

Once the guys all settle in, you stand at the end of the table and point at one of the instruction sheets as well as the menu. “You can pick 2-3 ingredients for your onigiri! One of the ingredients will include meat or seafood and anything else can be a vegetable, seasoning, or both. All of the prices are written down on the menu and there are written instructions on how to make your own onigiri with pictures as guides. Feel free to call me over if you need clarifications. Any questions?”

Multiple heads shake at the same time. You pull out a tiny notepad and pen from your pocket and prepare to take orders. “Great! Then, what can I get for you guys?”

Romero lifts one of his arms to get everyone’s attention and begins to speak somewhat broken Japanese, “Order whatever! I will pay!”

After that declaration, you jot down all of the ingredients that the group orders including some refreshments. “Alrighty! We’ll set up all your ingredients soon on the counter. Once everything’s ready, there’ll be trays for you to take back to your table.”

You bow your head and stroll back behind the counter to relay the order to Osamu. As you’re helping set up some ingredients that don’t require any cooking, you notice that your boss frequently steals glances at the volleyball team with starstruck eyes and curiosity pokes at your mind. “What’s got you looking excited like a kid on Christmas?”

Osamu quickly turns around to face you while holding a spatula in one hand and tongs in the other. Leaning down to keep the conversation between the two of you, he unconsciously lifts both kitchen utensils up in the air with enthusiasm and flashes a childlike grin. “That’s Nicolas Romero! He’s a really famous world class volleyball player from Brazil. My brother and I used to watch him on TV all the time when we were younger, so it’s kind of crazy to see him in person!”

There’s a slight leap in your heart as you watch Osamu’s eyes brighten in joy but choose to ignore that strange feeling for the time being. “Now that you mention it, I think I saw a couple posters and billboards with his face on them when I was in Brazil.”

“I was really surprised when ‘Tsumu told me he was coming to Japan to play for the Schweiden Adlers. I never thought he’d come to my restaurant though!” Your boss is quite awestruck at the idea that such an important figure from his childhood was about to eat food that he cooks himself and it’s enough to elicit a giggle from you.

It’s not long before all the ingredients are set up on four large trays along with a couple beverages. You face the group of males and raise a hand next to your mouth. “Order’s ready for Romero-san!”

Romero stands up from his seat and pats his son on the head to stay put before gesturing at Kageyama to follow him. “Tobio, help me bring the food?”

“Of course, Romero-san!” The setter shoots up from his spot with a zealous expression and immediately follows behind his teammate like a baby duckling. When the two arrive in front of the counter, they give you a short thanks and take their trays back to their table. Osamu subtly glimpses at his childhood idol but quickly looks back down with a flustered expression when he notices you sending him a smirk of your own.

With everyone pretty much settled in, you decide to walk around to the other tables to see if anyone needs any assistance or if they have any questions. You return back to the register after a couple of minutes ready to sit down and take a quick break, but you notice a couple drinks sitting on the counter. The volleyball team must have forgotten to take them when they took their food. Since you didn’t have much to do at the moment, you decide to take the drinks to their table yourself.

With arms full of beverages, you walk up to the Adlers. “Hello, sorry to interrupt, but you left your drinks on the counter. I just thought I’d bring them for you.”

Romero takes the drinks from you and then distributes all of them to each person after sporting a grateful smile. “Ah, thank you!”

You’re about to walk away, but the sight before is almost too ridiculous for you to look elsewhere. All of the men are in the process of creating their onigiris, but each creation looks quite...interesting.

Ushijima’s onigiri is one very large globular rice ball, which distinctively resembles a volleyball, with a few sesame seeds sprinkled at the top. Hoshiumi’s onigiri almost looks like it’s about to explode with how much meat was piled inside the rice and probably would’ve fallen apart if he didn’t have it enclosed around both of his hands. Kageyama’s onigiri is of a decent size, but he must’ve put too much pressure when shaping the rice because it just looks like mush with obvious handprints. Romero is the only person at the table who was able to make a normal onigiri, but everyone seems to be enjoying their time so you don’t think Osamu needs to come over and help.

You finally look at the young child sitting next to his father and tilt your head in confusion when you notice that he’s not participating or eating anything his father made for him. With slight concern, you turn towards Romero. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is your son not fond of the food? I could offer some other ingredient options?”

“Oh, that’s okay. Everything is perfect!” Romero replies with a knowing look. “Rubens is just a little grumpy since he misses his mother. She met new friends at an onsen and they invited her out to go shopping today. Thank you for asking, though.”

After living in Brazil for a couple months, you were able to pick up on some Portuguese. You’re not in any way fluent yet, so when the older man briefly speaks to his son, you can only make out Romero asking Rubens if he wanted a different onigiri and that he needed to eat to be healthy. The boy’s pout deepens and just simply states that he was bored. Romero sends you an apologetic smile, and you just wave your hand to let him know that you understood.

A sudden idea pops into your head. “Romero-san, is your son allergic to anything? I have an idea to help Rubens enjoy himself more. Would you mind if I try to make your son something?”

“Go for it! My son does not have any allergies, but he does love pork!” Romero nods his head in approval.

You quickly make your way back behind the counter and peek over Osamu’s shoulder as he stands in front of the stove. “Hey boss, do you mind if I try to make something for Romero’s son?”

“Sure. I don’t think anyone needs any help or anything at the moment, so you’re free to do whatever you’d like,” Osamu replies nonchalantly and you tap his arm gratefully.

Situating yourself in front of the counter surrounded by ingredients, you momentarily think about what you want to do. You make the final decision to create two designs for the onigiris that you think Rubens might like. After washing your hands, you gather up all the ingredients you need and even snatch some extra pork from Osamu’s pan. After a couple minutes of putting together the onigiris, you place them on a plate and examine your creations.

The first onigiri resembles a simplified stegosaurus with meat substituting the spines of the dinosaur and some sesame seeds throughout the body for texture. The second onigiri is just a regular rice ball with pork and vegetables, but a couple irregularly shaped pieces of nori are scattered across the surface to resemble a dinosaur egg. Both onigiris lie on top of a small pile of bonito flakes to act as a nest.

You take the plate of food to where Rubens is sitting, a bit nervous since you aren’t sure how he’s going to react. Everyone else at the table just watches curiously as you place the onigiris in front of the young child and his eyes widen. He’s practically mesmerized by his dinosaur themed meal and even some of the other guys are impressed.

Rubens quickly turns towards his father and whispers into his ear. Romero chuckles and pats his son’s head lovingly before facing you. “My son wants to know how you did that. He absolutely loves it.”

A sigh of relief leaves your lips at your successful attempt at making the child happy. The only problem was that you were still in the middle of work, so you didn’t know if you could spend any more time here. Coincidentally, Osamu seemed to have overheard everything for the last couple minutes from his spot in the kitchen. “Hey, (Name)-san. If you wanna take a quick break and spend some time with the kid, I don’t think there would be any problem with it.”

You’re really grateful for Osamu’s leniency, but a part of you still feels bad as you turn to look at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to skip out on my job so suddenly.”

“Don’t worry about it. The boss said it’s all good.” Osamu gives you a reassuring smile and you take it as your cue to grab an extra chair off to the side and sit beside Rubens. You’re about to grab some rice to begin teaching the boy, but a slight tug on your sleeve makes you freeze in place. As you look to your side, you see Kageyama’s hand near your shoulder and there’s an intense look in his eyes.

“K-Kageyama-san, would you like to learn too?” You ask a bit surprised. Your bewilderment is replaced with amusement when he nods at you furiously and you almost laugh out loud at his excitement.

“Oh! Me too! Me too!” Hoshiumi intervenes enthusiastically and even Ushijima seems to be interested. These guys sure were something else.

In the end, everyone in the group was watching as you demonstrated how to make different designs with the onigiri rice. Rubens finally succumbed to his hunger and began to eat his dinosaur meal, so you were left to attend to the grown up men who listened to you eagerly like school children, aside from Romero who needed to step outside to answer a call from his wife.

“Alright! Now that you have some of the basics down, why don’t you each try to make your own? Just to keep it simple, we’ll all choose a single design. Any ideas as to what you guys want to make?” There’s a brief silence as everyone tries to think of something doable. Suddenly, Ushijima lifts up his phone and an image of what you recognize to be Japan’s adorable volleyball mascot* is shown. You sweatdrop as Hoshiumi and Kageyama clap in agreement at the volleyball player’s obvious, yet adorable selection.

Other than having to give a few pointers to Hoshiumi and Ushijima, it seems like they were doing a pretty decent job at making the character. The one who was truly struggling was Kageyama. He was still putting too much pressure when molding the rice. As he continues to squeeze the rice excessively, you gently place your hands on top of his slender fingers.

“You’re putting too much force in your hands, Kageyama-san. Here, loosen your grip a bit and I can show you.” With that said, Kageyama lets go of his vice grip and allows you to guide his hands over the rice. The two of you stay like that for a couple more seconds until you successfully make a circular rice ball. As the male opens his palms upward with your hands still wrapped around his, his eyes sparkle in amazement.

Kageyama bows his head gratefully and when he looks back up at you, you’re taken aback by the amount of admiration flooding his expression. Your body stiffens when he quickly puts down the onigiri and clasps your hands between his. “Thank you, (Surname)-san!”

“N-No problem.” You feel a bit of heat creep up your cheeks with the way Kageyama was holding your hands so delicately.

The moment doesn’t last long, however, when you suddenly feel someone’s fingers graze the side of your face and a sticky feeling is left on your skin. When you look to see who the culprit is, your eyes fall on the youngest person at the table with one of the most terrified expressions you’ve ever witnessed. Almost immediately, Rubens starts apologizing in broken Japanese similar to the way his father has been speaking, “S-sorry! Sorry! Sorry!”

While you were busy working with Kageyama, Rubens had finished eating and wanted to make his own onigiri since he was still a bit hungry. He wanted to grab more rice from the bowl next to you but misjudged his movements and accidently touched your cheek with his sauce covered fingers. The child felt absolutely horrified and was afraid that you’d hate him for this.

Using a napkin, you wipe off as much as you can from your cheek and then proceed to lower yourself onto the ground to get to the child’s eye level. Mustering up your brightest smile, you try your best to reassure Rubens who looks like he’s about to cry. “Hey, hey! It’s okay, Rubens! I’m not mad.”

You spend the next couple minutes cooing at the sniffling young boy, and once you’re sure that Rubens is no longer going to cry, you sit back down on your chair. You lift up a ball of rice to gesture that you want to help him make an onigiri and he nods his head. You make a traditional triangular onigiri but place two rolled up bonito flakes for eyes and a piece of curved rice on top of the nori to make it look like a bearded face. There’s an almost immediate shift in the child’s mood when you point at the design and then to the empty chair next to him because you had made an onigiri that resembled his father.

Both of your laughs fill the air and the whole situation resembles a heartwarming scene from an anime. You were too distracted to notice the multiple pairs of eyes watching the scene in captivation. Once Rubens starts to eat again, you look up to see some lingering stares. “Is everything alright?”

Two stoic faces avoid your eyes by looking down, while Hoshiumi snaps out of his trance. The white haired male sits up a little straighter before addressing you. “Hey, you’re pretty good with kids, (Surname)-san!”

“I’ve had a couple babysitting jobs in the past. I’m not perfect with kids, but I did pick up a few things here and there,” you respond back shyly.

At this moment, Romero walks back into the shop while pocketing his phone. “Sorry to cut our time short, but I think my wife is coming back home soon. I should start heading out with Rubens. You guys can stay longer if you’d like.”

“That’s okay, Romero-san. I think we’re all ready to leave as well.” Kageyama lifted up his tray which spurred the rest of the other guys to do the same. As everyone helps out in cleaning up their area, you head back to the register to receive the payments for the meal from Romero.

The guys were now all ready to leave, but your boss quickly grabs their attention after taking a glance at a certain framed object on the shop’s wall. “Do you guys mind signing some autographs to put up in the shop?”

“Of course!” Romero exclaims. The rest of the team complies as well and they each sign a piece of paper that will most likely be displayed by tomorrow. Once that’s done, the team stands in front of the exit with their belongings. Rubens tugs at his father’s arms to get his attention and Romero bends down to listen to what the boy wants to say.

“What’s up?....Name?....Onigiri Miya…”

You can’t make out anything other than a few words, so you’re thrown completely off guard when Rubens suddenly jumps up from his spot and waves his arms wildly at you. “Bye-bye, Mrs. Miya!”

You don’t even hear any of the other males voice their goodbyes and leave the shop as blood rushes through your ears and your face flushes into deep crimson color. It seems like Osamu wasn’t spared either as his cheeks explode with heat at the implication. Both of you stand in awkward silence for a few seconds to calm your hearts until Osamu musters up the courage to glance at you first.

His expression shifts a little as he stares at your face. Osamu then points at your cheek. “Oh, (Name)-san. You still got a little something on your face.”

Momentarily forgetting about feeling flustered, you realize that you might not have gotten rid of all the sauce from when Ruben accidentally touched your cheek. “What? I thought I got it all off. Why didn’t anyone say anything?”

You attempt to wipe off the sauce remnants, but fail to do so each time because you don’t know where it is exactly. Osamu grabs a clean towel from the top shelf and slightly dampens it under the sink before standing in front of you again. “I got you.”

Osamu lifts up the towel and starts to wipe at your cheek softly. When your head starts moving too much, he brings up his other hand and places it gently on your neck to support it. There must have been a lot more sauce left than you expected because Osamu continues to hold you in place for a couple more seconds, his eyes never leaving your face. Unconsciously, your own eyes drift around his features and you can’t help but admit how handsome he looked at the moment.

“Oh, young love~”

Both you and Osamu flinch back when you hear one of the customers that are still in the room say their thoughts. When you glance at the table where the voice came from, you see an elderly couple smiling at you while holding hands with one another in a loving manner. The previous blush you had comes back in full force as you remember that the two of you were not alone and in a somewhat intimate position together.

“T-t-thanks, Osamu-san!” You stutter and almost trip over your own feet as you start walking towards the bathroom with hurried steps. “I’m j-just gonna...um...go to the bathroom really quick!”

As you rush away from Osamu, he just watches your back disappear behind the bathroom door. He stands in place quietly as he processes what had just happened and there’s a foreign feeling in his stomach that he can’t explain. He simply turns his back to the bathroom and rubs a hand to his cheek to hide the smile that threatens to creep onto his lips.

Leftovers

You’re currently laying on your couch comfortably surrounded by pillows and blankets while watching a movie on your laptop. Today was your day off from work, so you planned to stay in for the whole day and catch up on some alone time. As much as you want to focus on your movie, your mind starts to wander off.

About two days have passed since you met the Schweiden Adlers volleyball team at Onigiri Miya, but they were still on your mind. Based on the tidbits of information you’ve gathered from Osamu, Adlers and MSBY were rival teams. It almost makes you want to laugh at how different the two teams were in terms of their dynamics and personalities, so you hope to see them play against each other one day.

Suddenly, the ringing of your doorbell interrupts your thoughts and you pause your movie. You stand up and walk towards your door in confusion. You weren’t expecting anyone to visit, so you’re a bit weary as you look through the peephole.

As if the universe knew what you were thinking about before, you’re surprised to see Sakusa standing outside your door with his usual face mask. Swiftly unlocking the door, you pull it open and greet your curly haired acquaintance.

“Hey, Sakusa-san! What’s-” You stop speaking abruptly when you notice two large bags in the volleyball players arms and they look fairly heavy too. “Oh, wow. Are those...for me?”

Sakusa just nods his head and you quickly open your door wider to let him inside to place the bags down. You’re extremely curious as to what the contents were since both bags were covered by tissue paper, even more so because Sakusa was the one to bring them to you. He places both bags onto your coffee table and you’re about to ask what they were for, but he beats you to it.

“Congrats,” Sakusa states with his usual impassive expression but there’s a hint of softness to his tone.

At this time, you’re completely perplexed. “Congrats for what?”

“For graduating.” Sakusa’s reply causes your eyebrows to shoot up. “This is from the team.”

“Oh...” You’re left speechless for a moment as you try to understand the situation and once everything finally clicks, a warm feeling encompasses your heart. “Um...thank you.”

You gaze at the gifts bags for a bit longer with various emotions swirling through your eyes before talking again. “...did the team send you because we live in the same apartment building?”

“Yeah.” Sakusa let out a sigh which made you laugh a bit, but it didn’t sound like he was necessarily bothered by the task.

The male briefly checks his phone and gestures that he needs to leave soon. As Sakusa starts to make his way back to the front door, you follow with light steps to see him out. “Let everyone know that I really appreciate this when you see them again for practice!”

He nods in acknowledgement and the two of you exchange goodbyes before you finally lock the door as he walks away. Without a moment to lose, you rush over to the large bags sitting on your coffee table with anticipation. Just from the first glance, you can tell that there are multiple things piled up, so you’ll just have to take things out one by one.

After removing the tissue paper from the bag on the left first, you pull out something large and fluffy. In your hands is a huge teddy bear that’s wearing an MSBY jersey while holding a small note card that says “Congratulations on Graduation!”. You immediately know who it’s from because the bear’s multicolored fur resembles the colors of Bokuto’s hair. You give the bear a tight hug before placing it next to you on the couch.

The next thing you take out is a miniature set of hand lotions with a small bottle of pepper spray taped onto it. There’s a small note on the bottle that says “It’s dangerous walking home alone at night”. There’s no indication of who the gift giver is, but you know that Sakusa would be the only one to pick out these specific gifts. As you move the package to the side, another small piece of paper falls to the ground. It must have been stuck to the bottom of the hand lotion set. When you pick it up, there’s another note that says “Thanks for the soup”. Your smile widens. It seems like you had guessed correctly.

The last gift from the first bag is a beautiful mug with a sunrise design printed onto it. There’s a Brazilian flag sticking out of the mug, which makes it even more obvious that the gift was from your dear friend Hinata. When you push aside the flag, there’s a limited edition Bouncing Ball keychain inside the mug as well with a cute handwritten card that says “Congratulations, (Name)-san! We should hang out one day to play some beach volleyball like we did in Brazil!”. Your cheeks were starting to ache at how much you were smiling as you reread the note several more times.

You reach out to the remaining bag and pull away the tissue paper. Your nose is immediately assaulted by a pleasing floral fragrance and when you look inside, a large bouquet of flowers comes into your vision. Once the flowers are in your arms, you notice the note sticking out between the petals. Placing the flowers on your lap, you open the small folded piece of paper which says “Hey there, sweetheart. You should’ve let me know you were having such a big moment in your life! I would’ve done so much more, but for now, enjoy these flowers. The irises mean accomplishment and admiration. The peonies mean good luck. The daffodils mean new beginnings. Congrats on your win against school!” You’re quite touched by the amount of thought that went into this gift and based on the nickname, you can safely assume that this is Atsumu’s gift. You didn’t take him as a flower type of guy, but he’s always full of surprises. Nonetheless, you mentally note that you need to buy a nice vase to place these wonderful beauties in.

You thought that would be the last gift since you’ve already opened everything from the four MSBY players, but when you glance into the bag one more time, there are still two remaining boxes. They have the same wrapping, so you assume that they are from the same person. Taking both of them out carefully, you notice that the larger of the two boxes has a note that reads “I know you said you don’t normally eat sweets, so I tried my best not to add too much sugar”. Wondering what the card meant about sweets, you slowly open the lid and see two small cakes positioned next to each other with icing that spells out ‘Tiramisu’ and ‘Dark Chocolate’ on the respective cakes. Your mouth waters at the sight of the homemade desserts, but you restrain yourself because you were even more curious as to what might be in the other mystery box.

When you finally open the last remaining gift, there’s another note inside that says “It’s never too late to celebrate. Congrats, (Name)-san”. When you look underneath the note, your jaw drops as you let out a gasp. Inside was a gorgeous silver charm bracelet that was minimalistic enough for you to wear wherever you went. If the note wasn’t a big giveaway, the tiny onigiri charm attached to the bracelet convinced you that Osamu was the one who had given you these gifts.

The next couple of hours are spent finishing your movie with all of your gifts surrounding you. The inside of your room now smells like a mix of flowers and peachy lotion. The MSBY teddy bear is secured between your arms as you drink warm tea from your new mug while taking a bite out of each cake.

You’re not sure whether or not you want to jump up in happiness or simply cry from the overwhelming emotions, but either way, you’re glad to have met such amazing people the past couple months.

You couldn’t wait to get back to work.

Japan’s volleyball mascot: y’all know that volleyball mascot right? The one Ushijima loves to draw and the one that Hinata has shirt of

A/N: oof you made it! Can we all just give a moment of silence for Rubens for being the best boi? also another moment for the nice old lady at the end ;)

taglist: @kiyoo-omi​​

[n-ctarinenga]

Rose Coloured Boy [ luke hemmings ]

surfer!luke au | pt.2 [ read first ]| word count: 4,914 | masterlist

From the moment you opened your eyes, you knew something about the day was off.

It had been a couple days since you spent the night at Luke’s, Calum’s ‘special friend’ having not returned after your little message through his bedroom door.

You felt bad, but Calum assured you that everything was okay, her just being a bit embarrassed about the previous evenings. You did your best to believe him, but also made a mental note to be extra nice to her when Calum brought her to Michael’s dinner.

The lingering feeling that you had done something mean was definitely one of the things bothering you, but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why your mood was so up and down, nothing else obviously annoying you or giving you reason to think the day was gonna be bad.

That is, until you rolled out of bed and the bullshittery began.

It started with smaller things, not being able to find your favorite lipstick, misplacing your keys on the coffee table in the living room instead of on their usual hook beside the door, Calum having took the last of your jello cups before leaving for work himself, annoying things, but still, small annoying things.

Jumping out of the shower, you braid your hair over your shoulder to keep it out of the way, pulling your underwear, jeans and work shirt on before applying a small amount of make up to make you feel like you’d put in at least some effort for the day.

The second you walk out of the door with your bag over your shoulder, you feel like you should turn around and walk back inside again. The freak heatwave that showed up the day before doing nothing to make you happier as it felt like you instantly started sweating when you stepped out of your air conditioned apartment.

Plugging your headphones into your phone, forgetting to charge your airpods the night before, your usual casual steps today looked like an assault on the earth, your grumbling obvious to anyone who had crossed your path on the walk to work.

You expected the cool air of the cafe to make you feel better, but as you walked in and saw Ali behind the counter, you knew something was wrong.

Frowning as you walk behind the counter, you gently place a hand on her forearm as she rests on a stool beside the till.

“Everything okay hun?” You ask quietly, knowing her long enough to know that the sunny smile she shot to the customers wasn’t as full as you knew it to be.

“Not entirely.” She confesses, keeping an eye on a couple women in the corner to make sure they weren’t listening in, “this morning I got a call from my mom. Things aren't doing well with my brother and his ex wife, and it looks like the drama is finally on our doorstep." She spits bitterly. 

You'd been well aware of the situation Ali was talking about, having been her confidant for the last few months as the strenuous process of divorce meant her older brother was now living at home with their mom again, bringing his troubles with him. 

Sighing, you hug Ali and rest your head on her shoulder, letting her know you’re there for her. “You just say the word and I'll call Mali or Kaykay in to come help. I know how important your family is to you.” You tell her as you pull back.

This makes her smile, and you offer her a friendly grin as you pat her back before walking out the back to put your bag down. As you place your keys into your bag and hang it on the wall, you take a deep breath. What was bothering you obviously wasn’t serious if you couldn’t even figure out what it was, and at least you didn’t have to deal with the situation Ali did.

That is, until her brother's ex wife walked through the door before the lunch time rush. A few people were already trickling in, and as you saw her pass the shop window, you shot a look at Ali, nodding your head towards out the back in your silent way of telling her you’d deal with it this time.

You were nice to all the customers, for Mali's sake, but you couldn't find it in you to be nice to the woman in front of you after hearing all the pain she'd caused your friend's family.

You take her order and put it on the board while you finish up making a coffee for the customer before her, and call out their order and name as you place the coffee down on the bar beside the counter. 

Turning around to make her coffee, you hear someone calling for your attention as you put the next lot of coffee in to brew. 

Seeing her standing there as you turn around, you frown as she holds the cup you just placed down. 

"I ordered a latte with two sugars. This coffee is black." She says with disgust in her voice, and you fight the urge to cross your arms in front of you. 

"That's because it isn't your coffee, it's that gentleman's." You signal to the man standing off to the side, a regular who was obviously annoyed. 

"I didn't order black coffee and you gave me black coffee." She protests, to what you don't have a clue. 

"I haven't made your order yet, and that drink isn't yours, it's his. You weren't meant to get that one." You explain more slowly, hoping to get through to her. 

She rolls her eyes, pushing the cup over to your side of the bar. "Just make it again and get it right this time." 

You grit your teeth, your annoyance turning quickly towards being pissed off, and do your best to bite your tongue as you turn around, remaking the man's coffee instead of hers first, handing it to him with an apology, which he accepts with a sympathetic smile. 

You make her drink as quick as possible, quality not at the front of your mind as you throw the lid on and put it on the coffee bar, calling her order and name out like any other order and praying she finally leaves the cafe. 

As she does, Ali returns from out the back, thanking you and running the till while you get busy making the coffees for all the backed up lunch orders you now had. 

It's only around an hour before closing time that Ali gets a call from her mother, letting her know she needs to come home as soon as possible. 

Seeing the worry on her face, you push back your own frustrations of the day and tell her you'll close early, you still owing her for closing on her own a couple days prior. 

She gives you a big hug before she leaves, which helps your mood slightly as you remind yourself you only have a few customers to handle before you could go home. 

You manage to survive the last hour before spinning over the sign on the door, breathing a sigh of relief as you do. You take some extra time to clean up, sweeping up and wiping down the counters ready for the clean up and baking crews that would be in during the early hours to make all the food for the day. 

Your body ached and protested against the heat as you slid the roller door down in front of the glass front of the cafe, your back straining slightly as you bend down to lock it closed. 

The walk home sees you stomping most of the way back, but not with as much gusto as your walk in this morning. You could feel the fatigue of the day clinging onto every fiber of your being, the heat only amplifying your discomfort. 

Breathing a sigh of relief as you walk into your apartment, closing the door behind you, you smile slightly as you see Calum in the kitchen, a set of tongs in his hand as the smell of honey and soy marinated chicken wafted over to you. 

"You're a sight for sore eyes." You groan happily as you make your way over to the kitchen, dropping your bag on the way and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

You feel him laugh as you hug him, him patting your arm with his free hand as he turns what you now see as chicken kebabs in a frypan. 

"Rough day huh?" He asks. You just nod, letting go of him and leaning against the counter. 

"Go have a shower and relax a bit. These are still gonna take a while." He instructs, and you just throw out a salute to him as you walk towards the hallway, picking your bag up on the way and dropping it inside your bedroom door instead. 

You take a quick shower, annoyed to find you'd run out of shampoo, but happy to wash the sweat and grime of the day off your skin, wrapping a towel around yourself before making the short trip across the hallway from the bathroom to your bedroom. 

Taking note of the clothes sitting on the end of your bed, you realise Calum must have washed and dried the load of clothes you'd had sitting on your desk chair, and you thank your lucky stars for Calum Thomas Hood. 

You grab some underwear out of your dresser and pull it on, going through the pile and pulling out a pair of biker shorts you'd brought to be trendy, but ended up just wearing around the house, and frowned as your search for a shirt stalled as a bright yellow design on black fabric caught your eye. 

Pulling it out of the pile, you realize with slight horror that Calum had scooped up the shirt you were still yet to return to Luke as he grabbed the clothes from your chair. 

After waking up in his arms the morning after you stayed with him, your head was in too much of a spin to realise you were shoving his t-shirt into your bag as you got dressed for work, ending up bringing it with you to the cafe before finally realising where it was when you got home. Secretly, you had been wearing it to bed the last two nights as well, the smell of salt water and Luke's cologne helping you drift to sleep better than any white noise machine ever did. 

Pulling the shirt up to your face, tears spring to your eyes as you only smell laundry powder on the fabric, the calming smell that helped instantly ease you washed away. 

Truly feeling the meaning of "the straw that broke the camel's back", you feel every ounce of frustration and annoyance hit you at once, a choked sob coming out of your mouth as you let yourself sink to the floor, leaning your back up against your bed as the tears of frustration overwhelm you. 

You're not sure how long you sit there, but obviously it's long enough because sooner or later, Calum knocks on your door, opening it slowly when you don't respond. 

"Y/n….. Y/n/n dinner is ready." He calls, before stepping inside your room and seeing you sitting on the floor.

The sight in front of him is heartbreaking to him, knowing you for so long and knowing how much it took for you to get to this point. His eyebrows knitted in concern, he crouches down beside you, placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.

"Really, really rough day?" He asks, repeating his question from before. You do your best to answer him, but with your throat raw from the sobs that wracked your body, you settle for a nod instead. 

Calum sighs, not really knowing what to do. It was rare you ever got to this state, so he didn’t have much experience when it came to knowing how to cheer you up or pull you out of your feelings.

You dry your tears with the sleeve of a shirt you pull from your bed, not really caring about the tear stains soaking into the fabric as Calum puts a supportive hand on your knee. 

“I’m sorry you’re feeling like this. Do you wanna talk about it? Come out and have dinner?” He asks, and you shrug lightly.

“I’m sorry, I just wanna go to bed.” You say, quietly and tiredly. “Can you put my dinner in the fridge for me please?” You ask.

Calum nods, patting your knee before standing up again.

“You call me if you need anything, okay?” He asks, and you nod. He walks out, quietly shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone again to work through what you needed to.

Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself up, throwing back your blankets and crawling into the cocoon of your bed. You can already feel the tears soaking your pillow as you stare at the wall, matching glow in the dark stars covering it much like the ones you helped Luke put up in his bedroom.

Unknown to you, Calum hadn't moved from outside your door, worry weighing on his shoulders for easily one of his bestest friends.

He wracked his brain trying to think of what he could do. He needed help to help you. 

Taking his phone out of his pocket as he walks down the hallway back to the kitchen, Calum scrolls through his contact list, trying to figure out who to call. 

His mom? She'd have good advice, but you were a private person who probably wouldn't want your roommates mom knowing all your issues. Mali? Another good option, but also your boss. 

Calum scrolled through his phone with a frown until his eyes caught the name of the perfect person for the situation. 

Hitting call, it only takes two rings before Luke picks up his phone. 

"Gday, how's it going?" Luke answers, and Calum lets out a sigh of relief. 

"Uh, not good mate. Do you have a minute?" 

"Yeah, of course. What's wrong?" Luke asks, worry evidently growing in his voice. 

Calum quickly glances down the hall to make sure your door is still shut, lowing his tone so he's sure you couldn't hear him. 

"I went into y/n's room a minute ago to tell her dinner was ready, but when I walked in she was crying her eyes out. I know she had a rough day and I asked her if she wanted to talk, but she isn't even coming out of her room for dinner." He explains. 

On the other end of the line, Luke feels his heart drop, worry washing over him as the image Calum described made his chest ache. 

Before even thinking about it, Luke is getting off his couch, grabbing his hoodie, wallet and keys before walking out the door. 

"I'm on my way over. Thanks for calling me mate." Luke assures Calum, still on the phone with him as he locks his door behind him. 

Calum sighs in relief, both men saying their goodbyes before hanging up. 

As instructed, Calum puts your food away in the fridge, settling down in the living room for his own dinner with his girlfriend on facetime, feeling a lot better knowing Luke was on his way. 

While you and Calum were close, Calum knew that there was something on a completely different level between you and Luke. Beyond the mutual feelings you were both oblivious to, there was also an unspoken connection you two shared that people around you could pick out from a mile away, Luke and yourself joking more than once that you were actually soul mates.

Sometimes, it was hard not to believe. 

Luke is convinced he hasn't skated so fast in his life as he stands outside your apartment door, breath coming in short bursts as he texts Calum to let him in. 

Inside, Calum sees the text notification at the top of his screen, excusing himself from his girlfriend and his food to jog to the door, opening it with a smile and pulling Luke into a quick hug before pulling back. 

"She's still in her room." Calum lets him know, giving him a pat on the back. 

Luke nods his thanks, gently walking down the hallway before stopping outside your door. 

Taking a deep breath, he knocks once, three times, then twice. 

You frown as you hear the all too familiar knocking pattern on your door, dragging your hands under your eyes to wipe away your tears as you roll over, facing the door that slowly opens to reveal the man that makes your heart burst. 

"Luke?" You question, your voice worn from emotion as you sit up slightly, resting on your elbows. 

No matter how much Luke tried to mentally prepare himself, it felt like he could never ready his heart to see your tear stained cheeks and frowning face meet his. 

Before Luke could even say hello, a disappointed look crosses your face as you will your voice not to break. 

"You should go hang out with Calum." You say, laying down again and pulling your blanket up to your chin as you roll over again. 

You assume Luke has done as he's told as you head your bedroom door shut, but you're proven wrong when you hear his wallet and keys kit your desk, the bed dipping behind you as you feel him sit down. 

"You know I'm not gonna leave you alone while you're like this." Luke states, quietly but affirmatively. 

You wish you could respond to him, fight for your point, anything, but the energy to do so escapes you completely. 

Looking down at you as you stare at the wall again, he tries to think of the best thing to do to help you. He knew you weren't much of an emotionally verbal person, so asking if you wanted to talk probably wouldn't get him an answer he would be satisfied with. 

Glancing around, he stands up, and you feel the warmth of his body leave the space behind you. You hear him move around the room, walking from one side to the other, before the slide of vinyl against paper, soon followed by the opening notes of the 1975's first album, one of your all time favourites. 

Your bed dips behind you again as Luke sits down, but this time you feel the covers lifting too. You feel an aching feeling in your chest as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer to him as his head rests behind yours, the sensation of his breath light on your neck. 

 Still without the energy to speak, you instead move your arm from where it rested beside your head to lay it over the top of his, giving his hand a squeeze as you laid in his arms. 

You lose track of time as the tears start to slow, drying on your face and pillowcase as you find yourself sinking into Luke, his steady breathing helping you level out your own. 

After a while, you feel like your body has awoken again, suddenly regaining feeling of your fingers, your toes. You know you look a sight, but slowly you roll over in his arms, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around him. 

"Thank you." You say quietly, barely loud enough for him to hear. 

With your head against his chest, Luke knows you can hear his heartbeat race faster, happy to hear you finally speak again, and the feeling of having you curled into him. 

Luke would happily spend the rest of his life in this position with you, but instead he leans forward, one hand on the side of your face as he presses a kiss to the top of your head before pulling back, using his hand to hold your face to look at him. 

"Do you think you could handle having something to eat?" He asks, hand still trailing patterns onto your back. 

You think for a moment before nodding, feeling the absence of food as you're reminded of its existence. 

Luke kisses your head again before sliding out of your bed, slowly pulling you upright with him. It takes a moment for you to feel comfortable on your feet again, holding onto Luke's hand for stability. 

Noticing you were wearing his shirt, Luke smiles to himself as you squeeze his hand, sniffling slightly. 

"You go wash your face, make yourself feel better, and I'll heat up your dinner, okay?" He instructs, and you nod as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. 

Splitting up, you walk across the hall to your bathroom as Luke heads into the kitchen, noticing Calum must have gone to bed a while ago. 

While you wet a washcloth to dab at your face, you try not to look at the state of your reflection, knowing it would probably only make you feel worse. As you take a deep breath, you can hear the microwave in the kitchen come to life, and you look to the ceiling as you thank whatever higher power gifted someone like Luke into your life. 

Your heart ached as you thought of the man in the next room, but you pushed the thoughts aside as to not start off a new wave of tears. 

Tidying yourself up, you twist your hair into a braid to keep the most part of your hair out of your face, dabbing on a small amount of moisturizer to help out your reddened skin before you walk out of the bathroom. 

The smell of the food hits you instantly, and your mouth waters as you walk down the hallway, steps quiet as you notice Calum's door shut and light off, his slight snore being able to be heard from the hall.

As you turn into the kitchen, you see Luke placing a single plate onto the table, loaded with white rice and chicken kebabs that Calum had put aside for you.

"Bon appetite." Luke smiles as he sees you walk in, pulling your seat out for you. 

You feel yourself smile for the first time tonight, and sit down, letting him push you into the table, but frowning again as you notice you're about to eat alone. 

"Grab you a plate, I can't eat all of this myself, and I know you're hungry too." You insist. 

Luke hesitates for a moment, before walking over to a cabinet and pulling a plate out for himself. When he places it down beside you, you load a solid half of your food onto his plate. 

Sitting down together, you eat in peaceful silence, thankful for Calum's cooking skill and the man sitting beside you. 

You and Luke wash and dry the dishes together after your meal, and as he hangs the dish towel back on the front of the stove, you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his back as you squeeze him tightly. 

"Thank you. For everything." 

Luke squeezes your hands that link in front of him before you let go, letting him turn around and lean on the counter as he faces you. 

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and you think for a moment before speaking. 

"Better. A lot better. Not so tired, not so hungry, not so sad. Today just… was shitty times a thousand til you showed up." You laugh lightly. "How about you?" 

Luke smiles as he raises his eyebrow slightly. "Good, not tired, not hungry, very happy to help." He replies. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Luke's board beside your own at the front door, and you tilt your head slightly before looking back to him. 

"Did you skate over here?" You ask, and he smiles again as he looks down to the floor with a nod. 

You feel a sense of pride at this news, feeling good that he was finally comfortable enough to travel distance on his board. 

"Hey," he says, head popping up to look at you as an idea strikes him, "do you wanna go for a skate? Get some fresh air?" He asks. 

You feel a large and genuine smile cover your face at his question, and nod furiously, a wave of joy washing over you at just the thought. 

You grab your shoes from the rack beside the door and plant yourself down beside it, tying your laces while Luke does the same, lightly knocking you with his knee on his way down, making you laugh. 

Doing up your laces, you sit back for a moment as you wait for Luke to finish doing his, and in that moment, you feel everything around you start to slow. 

You feel your heart beating harder than it did before, as you focus on the man beside you, the small grin lingering on his face, loose curls falling over his forehead, how close his body sits next to yours. 

The nights previous events flash through your mind, remembering how he knew exactly the way to comfort you without even knowing what was going on, how your bodies fit perfectly together as you laid in your bed, sitting beside him at dinner and stealing a glance at him any chance you could get, how he kissed your head and made you feel calm, protected, loved. 

You loved him. You truly, deeply loved him. 

"Luke?" You say quietly, just enough to get his attention and before you can catch yourself as you start to hear your racing heart in your own ears. 

Hearing you say his name, his head pops up, his eyes looking straight into yours. You feel like all the air has left the room, as your impromptu decision makes your hands start to shake. 

Sitting with his knee touching yours, your shoulders close together, your eyes flick down to his lips for barely a moment, before you carefully place your hand on the side of his face, gently holding it as you lean towards him, and connect your lips to his. 

Time stops altogether for you as you feel the shock of the situation stun Luke, before his hands make their way to your face, holding you like the most delicate thing on earth as he kisses you back, a breath he's been holding for years finally leaving his lungs. 

White hot heat runs through your skin everywhere you feel his touch, and as you pull back only the slightest distance to allow you both a breath, you can't help but think you could easily spend the rest of your life drowning in him. 

Your hand falling to the side of his neck, you lean your forehead against his as your eyes flicker open, his blue eyes reminding you of the ocean he so adored, but as they looked back at you, they held more adoration than you had ever seen him feel towards the sea. 

"Hi." He says quietly, pressing a shorter, but none less intense kiss to your lips. 

Smiling into it, you pull back just enough to let out a small laugh. 

"Hey." You smile back, reattaching your lips and letting your hand tangle in the hair falling over the back of his neck while one of his moved to your waist to pull you closer. 

"Fucking finally!!" 

You nearly headbutt Luke as the loud voice behind you scares you out of your skin, your instant reaction to spin around and fall back into his chest as you see Calum standing in the hallway with a huge grin on his face. 

"Jesus, Calum!" You yell, your heart pounding out of your chest for a different reason now. 

Luke lays his head on your shoulder, and you can feel him laughing behind you as his arms wrap around you, holding you as you start to calm down. 

"Sorry, sorry, ruined the moment, leaving now." Calum says, hands flying up in self defense as he steps into the kitchen. 

Covering your face with your hands, you let out a deep sigh as you hear the fridge open and close before you drop your hands and see Calum walking back out, heading towards his room and walking backward as he holds a caprisun and his thumbs up in your direction. 

"Love you guys, I was never here, support you fully!" He calls, slowly closing his door before shutting it completely. 

Looking over your shoulder, you see Luke sighing before meeting your gaze. 

"I think that went well." He says, a playful smile on his facing making you both burst into laughter. 

You shake your head as you climb to your feet, offering your hand to Luke, which he accepts, pulling himself up. 

As you dust yourself off, he grabs your boards, handing yours to you before opening the door. 

You nod your thanks to him as you grab your lanyard from the hook beside the door, pulling it shut and locking it behind you. 

"Hey y/n?" Luke asks, catching your attention. 

Turning around, he catches your face, a grin on his own as he gently pulls you closer. 

As your lips meet his, you feel a chill run up your spine, your hands coming up to ball into the side of his hoodie. 

God, you should have done this years ago. 

taglist: @spicycal​ @softbabiestan​ @irwinkitten​ @mrandleer​ @smalla-than-a-bugg​ @candidcal​ @lukeskisses​ 

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Appearances (Tom Hiddleston one shot)

Hello, this is for @babylevines 4k challenge. It didn’t go as long as I planned nor did it go exactly where I planned but I had fun with it. 

Tom Hiddleston x ofc, warnings: None, Rating: everyone. 

~~~~~~<3

Rena pushed the wild curl back off her sweaty forehead with the side of her arm as she set the hollow rod on the steel stabilizing frame in front of her. Her assistant, Matthew’s dark skin gleamed under the warm florescent lights as he pushed the tip of the rod into the red hot furnace and began rotating it, slow and steady.

Even with the studio doors open wide and the large fan on the ceiling rotating slowly, there was little relief from the heat and Rena’s pale skin was flushed with it. They were almost done however. The design they were working on was done by Matthew and this was their one scaled down practice before he had to execute it himself with an assistant of his own as his last project for his art degree.

He rolled the cart back and Rena snagged the hot pipe off the rack and set the end on a rack some feet away, supporting the end just above the red hot orb of molten glass. She rotated it as she blew into the end and slowly the orange blob at the end expanded.

Behind her, Matthew set out rods of blue tinted glass on a steel table where he stabilized them before fetching a small container of crushed blue glass and a torch. It was quite for once in the studio and if it wasn’t for the furnaces running, it would have been silent. The furnaces run most of the day almost every day. Between the two of them and any guests renting shop space at any given time, it was more efficient to leave them fired up.

Rena was busy blowing the last of thirteen clear glass bubbles and so when Matthew called out, “Loki’s here!” She could only glance up to the man who at the moment looked only vaguely like the character Matthew insisted on calling him by.

“Has she eaten today? Or you for that matter?” Tom asked, scratching at the stubble on his chin for a moment as he always did coming into the studio when the furnaces were running. He’d once told her when she asked why that it was the heat and humidity mixed that simply made him break out into a sweat instantly. Somehow that resulted in his chin having an itch when stepping inside.

It warmed her heart that he asked after Matthew as well as her. He was a good man, a kind man and she couldn’t even begin to guess what she had done to be blessed enough to have him in her life. Somehow, she caught his eye and her obsessive work schedule hadn’t sent him running. Yet.  

His curls were dyed dark for his latest project and allowed to grow out. It was a look while only slightly reminiscent of Matthew’s favorite role, Rena was fond of. The dark color of his hair often left his skin looking cool and his lack of a tan at the moment didn’t help. The harshness of the look was lessened by the smile on his face and the flush that quickly climbed his cheeks as he moved into the hot room.

“I grabbed some Subway earlier. I don’t think Miss Rena’s left all day. I threw a bottle of water at her an hour ago but it’s still sitting in the reject bin.”

“Why’s it in the reject bin?” Tom absently asked, coming closer to examine Matthew’s work. The young man had talent and even in the few short months Tom had been hanging around the studio he had been able to watch as his art grew and evolved. Glassblowing was an art so outside of Tom’s frame of reference that he seemed to never grow bored watching them work.

“That’s where it landed.” Rena answered, picking up the rod with the glass ball now about the size of Tom’s head and whipping it through the air as if it was some staff and not a steel pip with a ball of still soft glass that would leave extensive burns behind if she made one wrong move. With each whip of the pole, the ball shifted and contorted just a little more into a raindrop.

Tom nodded, as if that made sense while he watched Matthew melt the ends of the thin clear rods and dip them in the powdered blue glass. Before the torch was turned back on to melt the powder he asked, “So you’ve not eaten?”

“I had breakfast. Got caught up making a castle around lunch and forgot. I had a sandwich about an hour ago though.”

Tom walked, chuckling at her meager excuse for a dinner toward her while carefully watching his step. He’d learned early on that the studio was a minefield on some days with shattered glass and broken projects left on the ground in a fit of frustration.

She was a vision to him. Her tank-top was soaked through in places with a mixture of sweat and the water she often dumped over herself throughout the days. Her dark wavy hair was pulled back into a messy bun that somehow still looked just as it should be. The dark blue paint on her nails glittered in the light as set the rod down on a flat work table with the glass hanging off the edge. She rolled the rod and grabbed a soaked bundle of newspaper.

“Can I help?” Tom asked, rather than saying what he really wanted to say which was that she was more beautiful in her element than any of her stunning creations though he could never understand how that was possible.

“Roll the rod?” And so he did as he watched her run the dripping newspaper under the bubble, refining its shape ever so slightly. Each time she pulled the paper away embers glowed where the paper burned away but she was unconcerned and though Tom had seen this before, it always amazed him that the glass was crystal clear and not marred by ash. This was her element and she was bending the glass to her will.

When she told him to stop, he held the rod steady. By now, the thin glass orb was cooling and becoming stiff though still far too hot to handle with bare hands alone. With one hand on the rod, she handed him a pair of thick leather mitts.

“Oh, Loki’s playing catcher today?” Matthew called from where he was shutting down the furnaces. With all the pieces fabricated and it getting late, there wasn’t a reason to keep them burning. Tomorrow they would assemble the pieces once the glass was cool “Dude, don’t drop it.”

Without much of a choice in the matter, Tom was directed to the end of the rod where he couched down with tan leather mittens covering his hands, reaching up almost to his elbows. He’d seen Matthew and Rena do this countless times but he was terrified of mucking it up and dropping the fragile bubble just the same.

He watched as Rena grabbed a pair of large tongs from a bucket of hot water and ran their tips around the base of the bubble, where it narrowed and connected to the pipe before asking, “Ready?”

“Not really, no.” Tom answered in all seriousness only to have Matthew laugh from across the room. This was a terrible idea, he was sure of it.

She picked up a chunk of wood and with a solid whack, it clanked on the side of the rod once. There was a crack that filled the air and in an instant one very hot, very thin bubble of glass fell into his hands and he let out a breath.

“Come on.” Rena was up and leading him toward the annealing ovens in the back. She was moving quickly and he was struggling to keep up. It was like she forgot that he was carrying a glass orb that was dangerously hot and that if he dropped it there would be a mess of shattered glass on the ground rather like the one to the left he almost stepped in.

Matthew had the oven door open as Rena veered to the side and shut down the main lights. Tom carefully set the glass orb inside as if it was a bomb primed to explode with the slightest nudge.

“Miss Rena, we need to make Loki a tesseract.” Matthew grinned like it was a completely original idea. Yet Tom had to smile because if they made him a glass tesseract he was sure it would be a breathtaking piece of artwork far better than any prop he had used with Marvel.

“Let’s get you graduated first.” Rena laughed and the sound was music to Tom’s ears as it danced around the concrete studio, seeming to fill the space.

It amazed him the beauty that could be found in the simple concrete room with the dull gray walls and floors. The first time he had been here, it was early in the morning and he was picking up a gift for his sister that their mother had commissioned. The studio had seemed so cold when Matthew took him inside. The furnaces had been off and the lights turned off. Only the light from outside streamed into the room and the overcast sky hadn’t done their studio any benefits ascetically though he soon learned how much the cool days were valued.

But then he heard her chuckle in delight as she pulled something out of the large oven that must have turned out just as she wanted and everything about the room seemed to change in his eyes. It was as if creative fairies were drawn to the sound of her laugh and danced around the room, bringing it to life as Matthew powered on furnaces and their warm glow added light to the room.

Now, it didn’t matter how early he visited the studio. It didn’t matter if the furnaces hadn’t been lite in days. There was nothing that could banish the warmth he found in the studio. It didn’t matter because now he knew that this was where her creativity lived, where she took glass and twisted and shaped it to her will.

As Matthew climbed the rather rickety ladder that lived near the ceiling window, Rena went to the large shop sink and turned on the tap. It was Matthew’s job to climb the ladder and open and close the custom ceiling window as needed. That window, Rena had once told Tom, did more to vent the heat that builds up in the shop than the large doors that were left open all day regardless of the weather outside.

Tom watched as Rena ended her day as she always did- by shoving her head under the cool stream of the water until she felt the day had been rinsed from her. Tom couldn’t do that- the way the water streamed down her face would have caused him to pull his head out from under the stream. Rena however remained under the stream until her hair was soaked through and she felt like all the sweat was rinsed from it, than longer still.

She scrubbed at her arms, neck, chest and shoulders, washing away the sweat from the day. It wasn’t a replacement for a shower but left her feeling human enough to leave the studio. She blindly turned the water off before wiping it from her face.

Tom couldn’t say if she knew that he watched her, mesmerized by her end of day routine. Matthew noticed and sat midway down the ladder with a small smile. With a shake of his head, he came the rest of the way down to take his own place at the sink, running cool water over his own dark mass of tightly packed curls.

“I’ll lock up.” He mumbled from under the stream of water leaving Tom amazed he hadn’t choked on any water in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping outside of the studio was always refreshing but today was a bit cooler than normal. They walked hand in hand down the winding path through the garden. Tom told her of his day, of the interviewers who wanted to pry into if he was dating anyone and he dodged. They hadn’t been public yet and thus far had been careful to keep their relationship, young as it is, private in order to allow what was between them to grow unhindered by the public eye.

Once on the street, her hand slipped from his as it so often did. This time however, Tom was quick to snatch it back up. “Rena?”

“Yes, Tom?”

“It’s dangerous out there.” She laughed at him though he was going to great measures to school his face.

“Yes, the crickets are mighty aggressive this time of year.”

“They are. I’d feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

“Someone will see us.” Rena bit her lip and looked down. “And I look a fright.”

“Let them see us. Let them know that a beautiful artist has captured my heart and my soul with her stunning beauty.”

“What will they say about you?” Rena motioned to herself, wet hair quickly drying to a frizzy mass of waves and sweat mixed with water causing her shirt to cling to her back. “I look like shit. They’ll talk about how terrible it is for you to-”

“You look beautiful. A creative vision in the night. The fantasy I hadn’t known I was looking for and now can’t imagine my world without.” He couldn’t keep his face straight and this time when she laughed at him, he joined her. He was being over the top, knowing that though he meant every word of it, she found such grand words beyond her. In truth, they made her nervous, she was an artist not a poet and worried she’d never be able to tell Tom just how much she truly cared for him already.

She stepped away and he stepped toward her, wrapping his arm around the small of her back as if he couldn’t feel the lingering dampness. “You are so full of shit.” Laughing, she slapped his chest before looking around and making sure no one was watching them. “There’s a guy with a big ass camera.”

Tom looked behind him. “So there is.” Yet he didn’t let go.

“They’ll get pictures.”

“Are you ashamed of me?” He asked softly, knowing or perhaps hoping that she wasn’t. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, drawing them up in a peaceful smile as he gazed down at her.

“No- but I look like a mess. Tom, what will they say? Be serious.”

Slowly, he leaned down and brought his face closer to hers. “They’ll say how damn happy I look.” His whispered words left his soft lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

“They’ll say I don’t deserve you.” She mumbled into his lips as they moved just a hair closer, teasing her with the breath of a kiss.

“It is I who doesn’t deserve you.” He answered before removing her ability to debate her point further. The kiss was soft, sweet and full of love not yet given proper voice though it grew by the day within their hearts just the same.

Come morning, the gossip rags would feature their pictures on the front page and talk of Tom finding himself a normal girl and sweeping her off her feet. The world would see their love filled kisses and pictures of Tom slipping into her front door in the night paired with him spotted leaving in the morning, disheveled and wearing what looked to be the same suit after sharing a kiss on the doorstep. There was no doubt that the internet’s boyfriend had found himself a girlfriend.

~~~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @dangertoozmanykids101, @alexakeyloveloki, @0-0-0-0-0-0-0-7, @theoneanna, @bambamwolf87, @j-u-s-t-4, @wegingerangelica, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @michelegurl

[muddy-stereo]

Hat Armor

mudsaw

“Phew! I’m beat…” A young boy said as he leaned on his mop, wiping his forehead. He looked up and out the window, the sound of pelting rain grabbing his attention, “Ugh…It’s been raining all day! I hope it’ll stop soon…I don’t exactly…want to fly in the rain…” He looked at the floor, there were a couple of smudges on the floor from patrons entering the shop earlier. The boy sighed “And I’m tired of cleaning up all the mud and water that THEY bring in…” He straightened up and dipped the mop back into the bucket of water, he then lifted the mop and placed it in the wringer and pulled the lever, wringing the mop of all the water. The Boy quickly stood up as he felt a couple of drops of dirty water hit his face “Ugh…wonderful…” he quickly wiped his face with his glove and continued to clean the floor. “Oh man,…it’s gonna feel so good to shower after this!” He picked up the pace and began humming a cheery tune. It had been a busy day, but he always liked working there. It was such a weird shop, with weird customers, who would buy weird things! Mainly potions and spells, they were treated as novelties by some but others would use them seriously, it was strange. His boss was equally as weird but he wasn’t so bad. His face is a bit off putting at first, kind of like being forced to stare at an old man with a lazy eye, but after a while, he grew to accept what he looked like and it no longer bothered him, in fact, it was normal. Besides, he had agreed to hire him in his time of need, even though he had no need for an employee so he didn’t have it in him to scrutinize his boss.

“Chance darling~?” The voice of his boss interrupted his thoughts “Let’s pick up the pace dear! It’s almost time for you to go home!” “Yes, sir Mr. Smiley Sir!” Chance answered back. “Ah, and don’t forget today is payday! Besides your money I’ll let you pick out a potion today for free!” Chance quickly perked up after he heard the last part. “Y-Yes, sir!” He quickly scrambled to clean up the remaining smudges all while grinning really hard to himself. “I can’t believe I forgot that today is payday!” He finally stopped and looked around inspecting his work. “Mwah~! Everything is spic and span!” He turned to the sound of beaded curtains opening, it was his boss Smiley. “All right dear, time to finish up~!” Smiley said as he floated to the front of the shop. “HEY! HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT??” Chance pointed at his boss who was floating a couple of inches from the floor. “Hmm?” Smiley looked to where Chance was pointing “Ah that!” He then proceeded to turn off the lights in and around the shop “Well, I didn’t want to walk on the floor that you just cleaned. So I took a little sip of a flight potion! It’ll wear off eventually!” He then flipped the sign on the door, locked the door and drew the curtains all while floating gracefully through the air. The bottoms of his feet left behind little sparkles that disappeared behind him. He looked back at Chance, his mouth hanging open, he smiled “You…seem surprised…for one who can already fly naturally that is…” Chance snapped out of his trance “Huh? Oh well, I just think it’s really cool! And I can’t really fly naturally….it’s all thanks to my broom!” Smiley gave him a thoughtful look “Your broom huh? Are you really certain about that?” Chance cocked his head and look at him questionably “Huh? What do you mean by that? I’ve always been able to fly because of my broom!” Smiley’s turned and looked away “Yes…of course, you have…” Chance stared at his boss unsure of what he was getting at when he noticed he was starting to fall slowly to the ground “Hey boss! The potion! It’s wearing out!” Smiley quickly snapped out of his thoughts and looked down “Ah! Thank you for that!” He quickly floated back to the beaded curtains “A-anyway, finish up in here and make your way to the back room asap dear!” “Oh uh yes sir!” Chance rolled the bucket to the broom closet and drained all the dirty water into the drainage “I wonder what he was thinking about…” he wrung the mop one last time and placed in the empty bucket. He then locked the broom closet and made his way towards the back room.

Chance stepped through the curtains “Hey boss?” he asked as he looked for Smiley “Over here deary~!” He was at his desk writing the check for Chance. “Annnnd…done!” He dotted the last line on the check and handed it to Chance “Here you are love~!” Chance grabbed the check and looked at it, it was a check for $920. “Hehe! Sweet! Thank you so much, sir!” Smiley then stood up from his desk and headed towards the closet “No problem deary~! Now come with me.” Chance obediently followed Smiley. They stopped at the closet’s entrance, Smiley pulled out a key with a little Calavera on it from his pocket, placed it in the lock releasing it and opened the door. He stepped inside the closet and flipped the switch beside the door, the fluorescent lights turned on one by one illuminating the large closet. Smiley looked back at Chance and smiled, his face was full of amazement and wonder~! He had seen the closet plenty of times but it was always so satisfying to see him so amazed. Even his paychecks could never make him smile that hard. Smiley then gestured with his arm “Well, go ahead~!” Chance literally hopped up and down in place “Hehehe~! Thank you thank you~!” He then darted past Smiley and started looking around the area, looking at all the potions on the cabinets and shelves and so on. Smiley shook his head and chuckled “Take your time dear! But not too long!” He then looked at the clock right outside the closet “I don’t want you going home really late dear~!” “I won’t be long~!” Chance answered back. Smiley then grabbed a seat and set it next to the closet door. He sat down and sighed “What a day…it hasn’t been this busy in a long time…”

“Oh gosh~! What should I get? What I should I get?” Chance said to himself as he glanced all over. His eyes stopped on a clear potion “Okay that was an invisibility potion but I already tried that two weeks ago…” His eyes then settled on a baby blue potion “That’s a shrinking potion! but it…was not such a good idea…I didn’t think mice would be so mean!” He then spotted three potions in a row “Okay…those are a love potion, a sleeping potion, and a luck potion…I could just buy those at a discount…” Chance jumped up and down repeatedly “Ugh! I can’t choose!” He quickly stopped when he felt himself bump into a potion, knocking it off the shelf “Oh nonononono~!” He quickly got it before it could fall to it’s shattering doom “Phew~!” Chance sighed as he placed the potion back in its place.“Okay…I need to be more careful and more studious~!” He then turned and eyed a couple potions, he carefully took the labels in his hand and read the description “‘This potion grants you the ability to float’ This must be what my boss used! But I can already fly so I’m good!” He looked at another potion next to it “'This potion turns you INTO A DRAGON??’ Eesh! I think I’ll pass on that one…” He continued on to the next potion “'This potion allows you to glow in the dark’ Hmm…..That’s silly! But…it might be fun? Maybe some other time…” Chance sighed and leaned back “Hmm….none of these potions are really doing it for me…” He then turned and looked at the adjacent cabinet “Maybe there’s something here…” He scanned the bottles, curiously, none of them had any labels on them what so ever.

“I don’t mean to rush you deary, but it’s getting rather late and I don’t want you going home so late~!” Chance jumped startled after hearing Smiley’s voice “Oh! Uh..okay, sir! Sorry, sir!” He turned back to the bottles with no labels. “So weird…why don’t they have labels…” He finally stopped on a bottle that was glowing with a white-blue light, inside were sparkles that glowed even more brilliantly! “Ohh~! This one is pretty! I wonder what it does…” He stared at it for a good long while, it was so beautiful, he couldn’t describe it’s beauty. “I think I’ll take this one~!”

Chance stepped out of the closet and saw his boss passed out on the chair, he gently shook him awake “Psst! Hey, boss~! I’m done picking out my potion~!” Smiley let out a startled snore “Eh? Wha-?” He looked at Chance who had finally stepped out of the closet, he let out a yawn “Ah~! Chance my dear! Are you all set?” “Yeah, I found a potion! But…” he then showed the potion to Smiley “It has no tag or label…” Smiley took the potion and inspected it “Ah yes! There’s actually an entire section of potions and spells that I have not labeled yet because I have yet to test its effects on any living specimens….” Chance tensed up a little “You mean…you don’t even know what that potion does?” Smiley looked up and saw the worried expression on his face “Oh well, this particular potion that you picked; I do know what it does! It’s the other ones that I have no idea what they do…I must’ve just forgotten to label this one….” Chance breathed a sigh of relief “Okay so what does it do?” Smiley got up and started walking towards the cauldron “This is actually not a potion but rather a spell! It’s a protection spell to be precise!” He then handed the bottle back to Chance as he started digging out equipment next to the cauldron. Chance opened the bottle and sniffed it. “Mmm~! It smells really pleasant!” He then leaned his head back and took a sip of the potion. Smiley continued rummaging through the cabinets “Yes it certainly smells nice! Just be sure not drink any, it’s not a consumable!” Chance eye’s widened, he quickly spit the potion back into the bottle. “Ugh….so you can’t drink it?” Chance said with his tongue hanging out. “No, It is a spell, it’s meant to be cast, not consumed.” Chance eyed the bottle questionably “So…it’s a protection spell….it should go on my body right?” Smiley stood up wearing a pair of massive rubber gloves while holding some blacksmith tongs “Actually….this spell is for your clothing…” Chance cocked his head “My clothes? How would that help? Why would I want to protect my clothes?” Smiley handed him a pair of welding goggles “Go fetch your hat and I’ll demonstrate!” Chance took the goggles and placed them on his head “My hat? Uh..okay..”

Chance quickly went back to the front of the shop and picked up his hat hanging from a hat rack, he quickly grabbed his broom while he was at it and made his way back to the back room. Smiley was fixing a welding mask to his head. “Tell me Chance, do you like video games?” Chance smiled “You bet I do!” Smiley chuckled “Well, you know how in some games you can buy and equip your character with various clothing or armor and it will grant the character numerous effects? Like one piece of equipment can increase defense while another piece of equipment can grant fire immunity? And so on and so forth!” Chance nodded at everything “Yeah! yeah! I do that all the time in some games!” “Well, this potion is the same! It goes on your clothing and it will grant you protection!” Smiley reached out with his hand “The bottle please!” Chance handed him the bottle “All right! Goggles on! This is very bright!” Chance quickly placed the goggles over his eyes while Smiley lowered his mask. He then grabbed the bottle with the tongs, he then slowly poured the spell bottle in the cauldron. The cauldron let out an intense white light, the goggles weren’t enough to truly block out the light as he shielded his face. He slowly removed his hands from his face and looked around, everything was whitewashed. There was not a hint of color anywhere. Everything was washed in a white light! Smiley placed the empty bottle down “Chance! Your hat! It’s going in there!” Chance snapped out of his thoughts “Huh? What? Will it be okay?” Chance asked a little worried. “Of course it will! But we have to hurry!” “Uhh..okay…” Chance handed him the hat. Smiley grabbed with the tongs and positioned it over the cauldron “All right, be ready it’s going to flash again!” “Okay!” Smiley then slowly inserted the hat into the cauldron the solution flashed and sparked with a powerful white light. Chance once again had to shield his eyes as the goggles were not enough to stop the blinding light. He slowly opened his eyes and squinted as much as he could past the light. The solution in the cauldron started to go down as it was steadily being absorbed by the hat itself. Finally, the bright light began to diminish “All right you can take off your goggles now!” Chance eagerly took off his goggles and peeked into the cauldron. Smiley then slowly pulled out his hat, it was glowing like a hot iron over fire except it was completely white and glowing brightly! Smiley then placed the hat into a separate cauldron of water. The hat let out steam and smoke and white brilliant sparks. Chance bit his nails a little, worried about his hat. Smiley finally pulled it out of the water and set the glowing hat on a nearby table. Smiley then removed his mask

“Good job Chance~!” Chance wasn’t too sure what he was being complimented on but it didn’t matter. He stared at his glowing hat. Over time the hat ceased glowing and it looked as ordinary as ever like it was never dipped into a magical cauldron. Chance turned to Smiley “Uh..may I?” Smiley nodded “You may!” Chance quickly grabbed the hat and placed it on his head, it felt the same as ever. “It doesn’t feel any different…” Smiley put the tongs and gloves away “Really? Well, why don’t you step outside and see?” Chance looked at Smiley “Outside? Really?” Smiley nodded. Chance opened the back door but quickly stopped when he saw the rain. “Aw man, it’s still raining! Do you have an umbrella?” Smiley shook his head “There is no need! Just step outside and see!” Chance sighed and stepped outside as he closed his eyes and braced himself for the droplets of rain to hit him. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at his arms “Did it stop raining?” He then looked up as he heard little splashes of water hit something invisible on top of him. “Whoa! What? What’s this?” Smiley chuckled from the door “That’s the protection spell working it’s magic!” Chance looked around him in awe. His hat was creating an invisible barrier bubble. The only way you could tell it was there was because of the rain droplets hitting it on the outside. “Whoa! This is so cool!” Chance then grabbed his hat “I wonder…” He then removed his hat and quickly regretted as the barrier disappeared and he was pelted with the cold rain. “Ah!” He quickly placed the hat back on and barrier reappeared “Wow…this is amazing!” Smiley chuckled once again “Well I’m glad you like it!” Chance then turned back to smiley, the barrier turning along with him “So…what else does it protect against?” Smiley placed a hand on his chin “Well….remember how I said that most of those spells in the closet don’t have labels because I don’t know their effects?” Chance nodded “Well it’s the same with the protection spell. It’s a protection spell at face value but I don’t know to what extent it will protect you…I guess you’ll have to test it for me!” Chance frowned at him “So you want me to put myself in danger?” “ I didn’t say that! Just….if you ever feel like you’re in danger….put your hat on! Think of it as… a good luck charm that will protect you wherever you go!” Chance looked down a bit “Yeah I guess…” Smiley then extended his hand “I can always remove the spell if you don’t like it…” Chance then straightened up and grabbed his hat “Uh no! It’s okay! I really do like this! It’s just…I can’t shake the feeling that all of a sudden I am in danger….” Smiley looked up at the sky “I understand…if you want…I can escort you home at least.” Chance perked up again “Is it that late already?? I’m so sorry….” Smiley then handed him his broom and began locking the door behind him. “It’s all right, it’s no trouble.” He then grabbed the small potion bottle from his necklace, popped it open, and drank it whole. He then began to float off the ground. “Are you quite ready?” Chance hopped on his broom “Ready! I’ll race you!” He then took off at high speed into the stormy night sky. “You’re on!” Smiley then took after him hot on his tail.

Chance gently landed on his front door and Smiley landed right behind him. He then turned to Smiley. “Well, thanks for taking me home!” “Not a problem dear~! I’ll see you in two days so have a good weekend!” Smiley said as he turned to leave “Ah wait!” Chance quickly went over to him, gave him a tight hug, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek! “Thank you so much!” Smiley’s eyes widened, he returned the hug and blushed “You’re welcome…now go on get inside~!” Chance giggled and skipped inside “Bye!” Chance said as he closed the door behind him. Smiley waved, he then turned around and took off flying. He placed his hand over his cheek where Chance had kissed him and blushed. “Good kid! He just needs to ask better questions…”

-End-

[17-imagines]

[scenario] [request] miscommunication

5: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”   33: “Please don’t do this.”  (i cried while writing this keke enjoy~) 

Title: miscommunication

Member: jihoon ft. seungcheol, got7′s jaebum & jackson

Genre: angst w a happy ending

Word Count: 1792

“Jihoon, get up. It’s our turn to get breakfast.” Seungcheol shakes the fellow member awake vigorously, making Jihoon grumble curses and swat weakly at Seungcheol’s hand.

“(F/N)’s working today.”

“All the more reason not to get up,” Jihoon mumbles, sitting up anyway. Seungcheol pats down his bedhead and shrugs, tossing Jihoon a pair of jeans nearby.

“If you miss her so much, why break her heart?” Seungcheol sits at the foot of Jihoon’s bed, waiting patiently as the other changes out of his sweats.

“I don’t have time for her,” Jihoon replies defensively, “Being in a relationship with an idol means doing everything in secret, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

“You didn’t tell her that,” Seungcheol inquires, bending to tie his shoe. “Instead, you told her you didn’t love her.”

“So what? It makes no difference.” Jihoon sighs, getting up to dig through a drawer. He removes his favorite hat - your favorite hat. He pulls it over his bedhead and stares down at the ground. “She’d hate me either way.”

The walk over to the cafe you worked at was silent, Seungcheol tapping away at his cell phone while Jihoon sulked behind him.

The cafe was warm, as per usual, and smelled of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee. Jihoon takes in a deep breath before following after Seungcheol, who hands the cashier the list of items needed.

“This’ll take a while. Take a seat and relax, alright?” She smiles at the two of them and disappears into the back, calling out orders.

The door to the cafe bursts open, revealing a disheveled, familiar figure.

“I’m so sorry I’m late… Again.”

Oblivious to the duo sitting at a nearby table, you hop over the counter and into the backroom, where you set down your things and quickly tie on your apron.

Your boss approaches you, a gentle smile on her face. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I know it’s been hard for you lately.” She hands you a large bag filled with pastries, and gestures for you to follow her.

“Just give them that for now, I need to brew the drinks.” You nod and approach the duo conversing about mixtapes, nearly dropping the bag at the sight of them.

“Oh, um…” You set the bag of food on their table and greet them quietly, before walking away.

“Wait, (F/N)!” Seungcheol calls, and you turn with a grimace. There’s a noticeable look of sadness in your eyes, and Jihoon can’t bring himself to look into them. “Come back, I - we, haven’t talked for a while.”

You walk towards the table, eyes focused on the shiny tiled floor. “I don’t really… Look presentable today.”

“It’s fine,” Seungcheol smiles gently, “She looks fine, right Ji?”

“U-uh, yeah, perfe - I mean, fine, totally fine.” You glance at him, for the first time in weeks, and it breaks your heart. Heavy and dark beneath his eyes are two eyebags, and his normally pink lips are dry and parched.

You then notice the hat he’s wearing, the hat he wore most often because you told him you liked the way it looked on him. He always told you it looked better on you.

You bite back a sad smile and at the sound of your name being called by your boss, you turn away and go back towards the counter.

“What’d you do that for?” Jihoon complains, rubbing his face with his hands. “I wasn’t ready for that at all.”

“I just wanted to confirm something,” Seungcheol shrugs, leaning back. “That sweater looks familiar, doesn’t it?”

“What are you talking -” Jihoon steals a glance your way, not failing to notice the redness in your eyes and the bags beneath them, but also recognizing the hoodie hugging your figure. “Oh. That’s where it was.”

“You two deserve each other,” Seungcheol smiles, leaning forward to tap Jihoon’s hat, “But you’re both too stupid to talk it out.”

“Shut up, Cheol.”

The door rings open again, prompting your boss and you to greet the new customer. They walk proudly up to the register, a bright smile on their face, hair styled messily over one side of their forehead.

“Jackson, are you lost? JYP is another 30 minutes from here.” You cross your arms at the sight of the male, whose bright grin doesn’t falter.

“I just wanted my daily dose of you,” he pouts, leaning against the counter with his elbows, resting his head atop his hands. “You look well.”

It takes all the strength within you not to reach over and hit him over the head with the doughnut tongs. You take a deep breath and purse your lips, using your eyes to gesture towards the table nearby, staring at the two of you, awestruck.

“Oh. My. God,” he says in full-blown English, then switches back, “Is that…” You nod, taking a tray full of drinks and placing it into a bag. “The audacity!” He whispers loudly, straightening up.

“Anyway,” he more than yells, shoving his hands into his pocket. “The usual?”

You turn to the display of pastries and fill a box with a dozen doughnuts, seven flavors catered to the respective members, and the leftover glazed ones for their staff. He hands you a bill, and smirks.

“Keep the change, cutie.” You make a face at him and he laughs heartily, waving at your boss who finishes loading the dozen of drinks ordered by the two other boys into a bag.

“Don’t overwork yourself, Jackson.” He makes a happy noise and turns away, two hands on his box of doughnuts, using his bum to nudge the door open.

“See you at dinner, sweetcheeks.” He blows you a kiss and you swat it away, rolling your eyes.

“Only if you’re paying, Jackson.”

He shoots you a thumbs up and disappears into a company van, which zips away down the street in the direction of the JYP building. Your boss nudges you and hands you the heavy bag of sealed drinks, grinning.

“You and GOT7’s Jackson?”

-

“Ji? Jihoon?” Seungcheol waves a hand in front of Jihoon’s face, who slaps it away viciously. “Jesus, what the hell’s gotten into you?” Seungcheol follows Jihoon’s line of sight to the cash register, where a swanky Jackson Wang leans, making passes at you.

Jihoon’s fists are clenched, a string of mumbled curses exiting his mouth in one breath. Seungcheol looks at him, amused.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous? Holy hell, Ji, you look like a serial killer.” Jihoon shoots Seungcheol a sharp glare, tearing his gaze from the Hong Kong native to stare down at the table.

“So what if I am?” He grumbles, pulling down on his sleeves, distracting himself from the disastrous scene in front of him. He’s almost relieved when he hears the door jingle open again, signaling the GOT7’s member exit, but freezes at the words he utters: ‘See you at dinner, sweetcheeks.’

Seungcheol tenses when Jihoon unclenches his fists, a wave of despair washing over him. The remaining bit of happiness in Jihoon’s eyes fade, and he looks as empty as ever. Seungcheol knows he has to do something.

An unusually submissive Jihoon carries the bundle of food back to the dorm without so much as a complaint, and locks himself in his studio once he finishes his food.

Seungcheol settles down onto the living room couch while the other boys argue over Mario Kart 8, violently abusing each other’s turns by tickling one another, jabbing each other’s sides, and singing loudly until one eventually gives up.

He should regulate, but he has business to take care of.

[11:31 AM] Seungcheol: hey hyung

[11:32 AM] Jaebum: hey. what’s up?

[11:32 AM] Seungcheol: could u do me a favor?? find out where jackson’s going for dinner 2nite

[11:33 AM] Jaebum: uh… weird, but k.

Seungcheol thanks the heavens for keeping the older male’s number after their special stage together, and messily writes the address given onto a piece of paper he slips beneath Jihoon’s studio door.

Jihoon arrives at the address Seungcheol provides him with, his stomach in a knot, head spinning, and chest aching. He spots the familiar color of his old sweater, and nearly bolts towards you, the fastest he’s ever moved voluntarily.

“Whoa -” You yelp, surprised at the sudden approach, and then you realize - it’s Jihoon. “Uh…”

“Please don’t do this.” His eyes are desperate, sad, and dull, nothing like the Jihoon who spent long nights in his studio, snug beside you, listening to his new creations while showering you with kisses.

“Ji, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t leave me behind, (F/N) - I’m sorry, so sorry I lied to you - I love you so much. I don’t deserve you in the slightest, but please… Don’t make me part of your past.” His voice falters towards the end, and by the time he knows it, he’s tearing up.

Hot tears stream down his cheeks, and he feels so angry - angry because he let you go, and angry because it’s his fault you’re going to leave him behind.

“Jihoon.” He refuses to look at you, despite you calling his name, forcing you to step forward and wrap your arms around his crying, broken figure. Your eyes sting and well up with tears as he wraps his arms around you as well, wet tears soaking into your - his, sweater.

“Jihoon, I was never planning to.”

“Huh?” He pulls away from your embrace to wipe away his tears, then he reaches towards you to wipe away yours as well. He then realizes he crossed a line, and his hand retreats back to his side.

“I’m assuming you think I’m here to go on a date with Jackson?” He grumbles incoherently and averts his eyes, so you take it as a yes. “Jackson and I are just friends, Ji. He’s just like that. It can be a bit extreme, but it’s nothing more. Besides, I spent the last month thinking about… You.”

“Oh, wait - so you’re not…” He glances back at you, your cheeks a lovely pink and fingers fiddling with each other nervously.

“No, I’m not but um… Jihoon, did you really mean what you said just now? You… Love me?”

“I meant every last bit, (F/N). I never stopped loving you.”

A wave of relief washes over you, tears threatening to spill over once more as Jihoon pulls you close to him, warmth enveloping you. “I love you too, Ji, I missed you so much…”

“I missed you too - god, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He pulls away from the hug and caresses your cheeks, eyes full of love and admiration, his whole being rejuvenated. 

He doesn’t say a word, and instead leans forward, slightly chapped lips meeting yours.

[jiveammunition]

Reaper76Week - Day 5 - Here Comes the Sun (G)

Title: Here Comes the Sun Pairing: Reaper76 Rating: General Tags: Fluff, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Police Summary:

Before he even has a moment to register what he's saying and put a stop to it, his mouth drops a bomb that takes the both of them by surprise.  

“I can play guitar. If you're okay with it, I can fill in. I'm off Tuesday.”

Day 5 of Reaper76Week - “Over the Airwaves”

Also on AO3 here: Here Comes the Sun

Gabriel catches Jack looking utterly despondent one morning, brows furrowed and a very uncharacteristic frown on his face. He's staring at his phone, and whatever seems to have upset him must be serious, given how Jack doesn't even seem to notice he had a new customer.

“Why the long face?” Gabriel asks as he lets the door swing quiet shut behind him.

“Oh!” Jack gasps, visibly startled by Gabriel's sudden presence in the store. He hastily straightens up off from where he's leaning over the counter and tries to put on a smile. “Good Morning, Gabriel.”

It's only been a few months, but it's long enough to know the differences in Jack's expressions. Jack is giving him a fake, customer service smile, and that doesn't sit well at all with him. Gabriel frowns.

“Did something happen?” he asks again. Daily routine moves his body to fetch a set of tongs and a tray, and Gabriel catches himself unconsciously browsing the shelves for his breakfast as he continues to talk with Jack.

“You could say that, yeah,” Jack sighs. The fake smile drops off his face and he looks down at his phone with a gloomy expression on his face before putting it away. He finishes organizing the tray of macarons that had previously sat temporarily forgotten in front of him and sets it in its proper place inside the refrigerated display case.

“Wanna tell me about it?” Gabriel goes with a western omelette breakfast quiche — which he convinced Jack to start making after being scolded for choosing a croissant for 4 days in a row just to spite Jack after he realized Jack was intentionally hiding his favorite sour cream and chives scones from him — this morning, and hands the tray and tongs over.

Jack shrugs noncommittally at first, as he pops the quiche into the small toaster oven beside the coffee machine, and it's only after he gets Gabriel's coffee that he actually answers.

“So you know how I have Family Fundays now?”

Gabriel nods, eyes briefly glancing over to the corner of the bakery near the cafe area where a low stage is located — made significantly less conspicuous by the standing baskets of baguettes and other easily-moved displays of baked goods — and recalling the chalkboard sign outside advertising story hours and other family-friendly entertainment on Tuesday nights at the bakery.

“Well, I originally had my buddy Lúcio scheduled to come in and do a puppet show, but-” Jack began, taking the now-warmed and toasted quiche from the oven.

“Wait,  the Lúcio? That really famous DJ?” Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. The implication that Jack knows someone so famous — and had him do something so local and small, to boot — surprised him so much he had to stop and recount his coins before handing it over to Jack.

“Yeah, that Lúcio. He and I have been friends for almost 10 years now. We met on the internet,” Jack replied, tone nonchalant as if he were talking about something so mundane as the weather. “Anyway, he said he was gonna be in town Tuesday, offered to come visit me and do a puppet show for the kids. But something came up so now he can't make it, and I don't have anything lined up to replace him.”

A dispirited sigh falls from Jack's lips as he hands Gabriel back his change in bills and slides the tray of coffee, quiche, and the scone he didn't order but knows better than to protest about. And damn if the sadness on Jack's face didn't tug at Gabriel's heartstrings.

Before he even has a moment to register what he's saying and put a stop to it, his mouth drops a bomb that takes the both of them by surprise.

“I can play guitar. If you're okay with it, I can fill in. I'm off Tuesday.”

“Really?!” The way Jack's face lights up immediately drives the nail into the proverbial coffin. Even if there had been a chance for Gabriel to take his words back, there was no possible way on earth for him to do it now. He couldn't bear to make Jack upset again.

“Yeah, I mean, I'm a little rusty, but so long as you don't ask me to play something too difficult or something like  Wonderwall , it should be okay.”

“Oh man, that'd be great! You're a lifesaver, Gabriel! Thank you so much!” Jack's smile beams so brightly that Gabriel can feel his insides melting from how warm he feels.

“Yeah, no problem,” he replies coolly.

Except, there is a problem. Two problems. Two very big problems that come to mind the second he sits down in the cafe area. He tries not to scream when he bites into the quiche — partially from the realization, and partially from his own stupidity at not letting the very very hot pastry cool down a little first.

“Jesse, I'm gonna need my guitar back,” Gabriel says as he approaches Jesse’s desk.

“Huh?” Jesse looks up at him as if he'd grown two heads. “Boss, you sold it to me, remember? ‘Less you plan on giving my money back…”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Will you let me borrow my-  your  guitar? I need for about a week and I'll give it right back.”

Still looking at him with a raised eyebrow, Jesse replies, “Yeah, sure. I'll bring it in tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I owe you,” Gabriel replies. He tries to get away before Jesse decides to ask any questions, but only makes it two steps before Jesse speaks up again.

“Whacha needin’ it for anyway? Planning on serenading someone with it?” he laughs.

Gabriel frowns. “No. Jack's act for Tuesday night bailed on him, and I offered to help him out.”

"By playing guitar?” There's a beat of silence before the confused expression on Jesse's face changes to one of revelation. “Jack, as in the bakery owner, Jack? Boy howdy, boss, you really  are  planning on serenading him! How romanti-”

Before Jesse even has a chance to finish that word, Gabriel lifts the hat off of Jesse's head and jams it into his face. “I'm not serenading anyone. I'm just helping him out of a tight spot. Got it?”

Jesse nods his head in affirmation from beneath the hat, giving a thumbs up and a muffled, “Gotcha, boss.”

With that taken care of, Gabriel goes to Ana's office, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

“Ana, I need Tuesday off,” Gabriel says, clasping his together in a way that can't be misinterpreted as anything but begging, “I'll take traffic duty for a week and babysit Fareeha for a weekend if you let me have it off.  Please .”

Ana raises an eyebrow, clearly curious as to why Gabriel would make such a sudden request. Rather than ask, however, she merely replies with, “Make it two weekends and you've got Tuesday off.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Gabriel fights the urge to pump his fist happily as he walks back out of the office.

He later realizes, when he looks at the calendar stuck to the front of his fridge at home, why exactly it was so easy to get Ana agree to let him have the day off.

...he was already scheduled to have off that day. He hadn't been lying when he told Jack he had the day off, but self-doubt and his own paranoia had landed him with traffic duty and two weekends of babysitting.

Oh well.

Sure enough, Jesse makes good on his word, and Gabriel spends the next several days practicing on his old acoustic guitar to prepare and reacquaint himself with the hobby he had dedicated so many years of his teenage life to.

The notes, the chords, hand positions and movements come back to him just as naturally as a duck takes to swimming. When he sits down in the chair on the tiny stage inside of Jack's Bakery, he finds his nerves as steady and as calm as ever. Countless eyes and smiling faces look up at him, waiting eagerly for his song to start, but only one pair of stormy blues really matter to Gabriel.

Briefly, he locks gazes with Jack, who’s watching him from behind the counter, smiling fondly at him, and he feels his heart skip a beat at the brief moment of eye contact. Jack gives an encouraging nod at him, and Gabriel takes a deep breath before smiling back at the children's faces in the front row and strums his first note.

“ Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter… ” he begins to sing.

For the next few hours, Gabriel sings a mix of oldies but goodies, and some of the newer songs that the children were familiar with and could sing along to. Inwardly, he thanked Fareeha for indirectly enlightening him on current music, as the smiles on the numerous faces in the bakery brought a happiness and excitement he hadn't felt in years since he stopped playing the guitar.

Occasionally, movement will catch the corner of his eye and he spots Jack going about his business in the bakery. Sometimes Jack moves to the beat of the music, sometimes he dances along with an over-excited child whose parents are too immersed in Gabriel’s song to help expend the extra energy, and sometimes — the thing Gabriel loves seeing him do the most — Jack will quietly sing along when he thinks everyone is too busy watching Gabriel to notice.

But Gabriel notices, perhaps a bit too much, and each and every time he spots Jack around the store, he feels the rhythm of his heart stutter just a little bit faster.

Gabriel's performance ends around 8 o’clock, when the families all start heading home for bedtime. Some of them stop by on their way out to chat and thank Gabriel for his wonderful performance, others express their gratitude for the things Gabriel has helped them with while on-duty. Nevertheless, the smiles on their faces speak well enough about Gabriel's performance that he almost feels like picking up the guitar again.

“That was really wonderful,” Jack comments as he tosses away a few lingering bits of trash from the floor and flips the sign on the door from Open to Closed. “Thank you again for helping me out, I really appreciate it.”

The warm smile on Jack's face sparks a heat in the tips of Gabriel's ears and he tries to keep his voice as level as possible when he replies with, “Ah, it was nothing. I had fun and I'm glad I could help.” He slings the guitar to his back and out of the way so he can help rearrange the chairs to how they should look, but only manages to orient two before Jack stops him.

“No, I really do mean it.  Thank you ,” he smiles as he fetches something from behind the register and walks back over to Gabriel. “Here, as thanks.”

Gabriel can already tell from sight alone what it is Jack plans on giving him, and he immediately holds up a hand to refuse the envelope and the check inside it. “Nope. You don't need to thank me.  Seriously ,” he he repeats, “I was happy to do it.”

“But I need to pay you back somehow. You did me a favor, and it wouldn't feel right paying you with stuff I sometimes give you for free anyway,” Jack protests, frowning.

“You don't have to pay me back anything, Jack.”

“But-!”

Knowing Jack isn't likely to give up, Gabriel thinks for a moment before he comes up with a solution.

“Okay, fine. I know how you can pay me back,” he says, smirking.

“How?”

‘ By going on a date with me ,’ his heart wants him to say.

“Sing along with me next time.”