#it was meant to just be a fun thing I did after work on the train aaaaa

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

"That said, both Styles and his therapist have questioned why he cares quite so much about being likeable. This is one of the things he thought about a lot in his big pandemic reflection. In part, it's a choice, he explained. He recalled moving to London after The X Factor and hearing tales of petulant celebrities screaming because someone got their coffee order wrong and deciding to never be that guy, to never give someone a petty reason to bad-mouth him. But more recently he's come to worry that the drive for approval came from a more complex place, a place of caution, fear, control." "Styles said he often spent interviews terrified about saying the wrong thing until he stopped to question what abhorrent belief or bizarre opinion he was scared he'd accidentally reveal and realized he couldn't think of anything."

"And he thought about the cleanliness clauses in the contracts he used to sign, which would dictate that they would be null and void if he did anything supposedly unsavoury, and about how terrified that used to make him. And about when he signed his solo contract and learned that the ability to make music would not be affected by personal transgressions, he burst into tears, a reaction he still seemed shocked by, retelling it to me now, years later. "I felt free," he explained."

"When Styles began therapy about five years ago [so in 2017], he was reluctant initially, feeling it was a music industry cliché. "I thought it meant that you were broken," he said. "I wanted to be the one who could say I didn't need it." He returned to the home theme that has underpinned our conversation, explaining that therapy has allowed him to "open up rooms in himself" that he didn't know existed, allowed him to feel things more honestly, where before he had tended to"emotionally coast.""

"Recently Styles began to work through issues related to intimacy, dating, love. "For a long time, it felt like the only thing that was mine was my sex life. I felt so ashamed about it, ashamed at the idea of people even knowing that I was having sex, let alone who with," he said."

"You look back, especially now there's all the documentaries, like the Britney documentary, and you watch how people were abused in that way, by that system, especially women. You recall articles from not even five years ago, and you're like, I can't even believe that was written."

He has been thinking a lot recently about autonomy, ownership, privacy. About what he should be able to keep to himself, what he should be able to simply communicate through his music without follow-up questions or prying. Around the time of Fine Line, he faced scrutiny around his sexuality. People became incredulous that he wore dresses, waved Pride flags, and yet hadn't clarified with precision, publicly to a journalist or on social media, the specifics of who he'd slept with, how he defined. This expectation is, to him, bizarre, "outdated." "I've been really open with it with my friends, but that's my personal experience; it's mine," he said.

Despite the acceptance that some things could, should, have been different, he still feels lucky every day, he said, lucky to make music, lucky to do what he loves.

"You can't win music. It's not like Formula One," he said. "I was like, in my lifetime, there will be 10 more people who burst onto the scene in that way, and I'm only going to get further away from being the young thing. So, get comfortable with finding something else that makes you happy. I just found that so liberating."

"I just want to make stuff that is right, that is fun, in terms of the process, that I can be proud of for a long time, that my friends can be proud of, that my family can be proud of, that my kids will be proud of one day," he said.

““In lockdown, I started processing a lot of stuff that happened when I was in the band,” he said. He thought about the way he was encouraged to give so much of himself away, “to get people to engage with you, to like you.” He thought about the fact that no baby photos exist of him that aren’t on the internet (you give a bunch to an X Factor producer doing a piece on your backstory without much thought, and suddenly your childhood is online). He thought about the journalists asking questions, when he was still a teenager, about how many people he’d slept with and how, rather than telling them to go away, he would worry about how he could be coy without them leaving the room annoyed. “Why do I feel like I’m the one who has done something wrong?” he said to me.”

— Harry for Better Homes and Gardens Magazine

[deathbxnny]

May I request some headcanons about Victor, selika, Vander and Vi about caring and being with a S/O with ADHD.

Please and thank you

Arcane characters with an s/o that has ADHD. | Viktor, Sevika, Vander and Vi

Thank you for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: No spoilers for season 2, season 1 Viktor, established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He was the first to notice and accommodate to your ADHD, mainly as he knew what it's like to live with something that makes life a little harder in general.

Viktor is very patient and gentle with you when you're having a hard time focusing on tasks or are procrastinating on projects. He understands it just fine and works with you to find strategies that make everything a bit easier. Whether it's studying with you or helping you out on research papers, you both spend a lot of time together, to say the least.

You two enjoy working on your own things in eachothers presence, as it helps you get over your lack of motivation and gives you a chance to talk his ear off freely. Thankfully, he's good at multitasking when it comes to you. Some may think your talking is excessive, but he finds it cute.

Whenever you're a bit more fidgety than usual, he'll hold your hand or give you a reassuring smile, yet doesn't stop your body from regulating itself naturally.

Viktor takes your diagnosis as a simple fact, nothing that defines or undermines your ability to be his s/o. If you need a little help, then he's very clearly okay with that.

》SEVIKA

She doesn't initially understand the concept of ADHD and doesn't care much about it either. Sure, she gets that it affects your day to day life, but she was going to help you out with anything either way even without the diagnosis. So, in other words, she's ready to learn and do as you please.

Your fidgety nature was something she definitely had to get used to, as she mistook it as fear or nervousness rather often. This typically meant that she'll ask you if you're alright a lot or if there was someone bothering you. Over time, she learns to look past it and see it as a natural part of you. If you can't sit still, then she'll let you roam around whilst her eyes watch you closely.

Your endless ramblings and deep interests about the most nichest topics also needed some time for her, but what got her the most was your procrastination issues. She did get not want to do things at all, but she would still attempt to make work as fun as possible in her own way. She'll accompany you everywhere and take care of the heavy lifting.

When she said that she was loyal, she was definitely not kidding around. Your ADHD changes nothing about the way she views you, and so she doesn't make a big deal out of it either.

》VANDER

Probably the most patient and understanding of your ADHD and its symptoms by far. He sees them as a part of you in a good way and simply accepts them as they are.

Whenever you procrastinate on chores or work, he'll try and make it more enjoyable by either helping out or promising you a nice treat after. If it's really bad, though, he'll just do things himself to not stress you out about them too much.

He's the same with your lack of focus, although he sometimes does get concerned about you zoning out when things get serious. Vander will still find his own innovative ideas on making you focus when he needs you to.

He loves listening to you talk to him about the most random things possible, mainly as it shows him that you're comfortable enough with the care he gives you. He also just enjoys weighing in with his own opinions about the many various topics you bring forth at rapid speed.

Either way, he skillfully navigates your diagnosis with ease and doesn't ever let you feel like you're burdening him with it.

》VI

Well, she certainly may have outlandish ideas at times when it comes to working with your ADHD, but she definitely at least has the spirit for it!

Your natural fidgeting and inability to stay still gets interpreted in you just needing to power yourself out. This makes you often find yourself in front of a punching bag with an excited Vi telling you to go ahead and let it alllll out. Whether it works or not is up to you, but you appreciate the effort even after you had explain it wasn't that easy.

Vi will make it her mission to help you out on projects or with work whenever the procrastination gets too bad. She'll also help you out with simpler tasks when she can but will otherwise try to make things fun, at least.

You two enjoy rambling away with each other, and it is her favorite thing. You're both bad at focusing on one topic at a time, so your talks can go on for hours, which she loves very much.

Your diagnosis is just a part of you that she very much loves, even when it gets difficult at times. She never wants you to feel left out or liked less because of it and does her best to never let you think that.

[aebinspa]

meant to be

PAIRING: karina x y/n reader

SUMMARY: Your life couldn’t have been worse. You aspired to make a living as a photographer, but instead, you found yourself working in a fast-food restaurant alongside a colleague who rarely offered you any good company. Everything changed when the famous model Karina showed up at your workplace. After a few days, she managed to convince the editorial team to hire you as the photographer for her photoshoot. However, your career faced another threat when Karina pressured you to assist her with a strictly confidential operation.

GENRES: angst, lies, loneliness, we will face suffering in this life, but eventually, things will improve, and we will start over again and again, fluff at the end.

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i'm not cut out for writing long stories. i went crazy countless times while writing this one :)) i added a little bit every day and it made the story more confusing. the next five things I write will be fluff, no more angst for a while + thank you for all the support you have shown for what i wrote. i am extremely grateful and happy that someone was able to appreciate them!

Life didn't end when you lost all your friends because of bad choices, didn't know where to put your hands, or stopped recognizing yourself in what you did and said. Life didn't end when you turned twenty. At least that's what you told yourself every morning to convince yourself to get up, when even what had previously seemed sensible lost all meaning.

In the eyes of your parents and your old friends, you had remained imprinted as a sour girl, difficult to manage but who, beyond some character problems, had always shown herself willing to help. Never to be helped. Perhaps this had a powerful impact. In your daily life, no one asked how you were in the morning. Was it more difficult for others to reach out to you and always receive a refusal or was it more difficult for you now to be alone, without anyone? And yet loneliness had always been so dear to you; a space where you could truly be yourself.

After trying to attend political science university for a few months and failing the first exam, you soon realized that it wasn't for you. The only luck was having met a girl who, between one lesson and another, had introduced you to the world of photography.

In photography, you discover a kind of joy that you could share. Often others would ask you for photos and you, with a big smile, couldn't wait to take one. Of course, everything got complicated when you had to come to terms with reality. There was no longer just photography, you also had to think about earning some money.

That's how you ended up working at a fast food restaurant that was open all day and, with the constant fear of running out of money at any moment, you signed up for all the night shifts. Someone had set you up by telling you that they paid more, but only when your first paycheck arrived did you realize that your dear colleague only wanted to get rid of the difficult shifts.

That night, you and Sunwoo, the beloved colleague who had actually made fun of you a few years earlier, were at the counter of the fast food restaurant busy playing UNO. It was more than rare to see customers at two in the morning.

“UNO!” Sunwoo shouted at the top of his lungs. “Fuck you, asshole! I’m tired and you dare win my favorite card game!” you threw the remaining cards of the deck off the counter. Sunwoo huffed and, with an agile leap, got off the counter and went to retrieve the poor cards that were now lying on the floor that was far too clean for the hygiene standards of the place where you worked. “It’s the only card game you know how to play, Y/n”

It was cold outside. A cold that froze the bones. Your winter uniforms didn’t warm you enough and the heating had suddenly stopped working the day before. Sunwoo didn't let it show, but he hated working more than you did. He had a dream more ambitious than yours and unfortunately, every door was closed in his face. The fast food place where he worked with you was the daily confirmation that failure was a constant in his life. And you were experiencing the same situation first-hand.

Sometimes photography gave you work, but you couldn't eat from it. Small jobs are undoubtedly formative, but not appealing to the taste of those big companies that looked at your disastrous portfolio.

While Sunwoo began to sweep the clean floor, you, lost in your thoughts, froze, feelinglessly staring at the street you looked at every night. Suddenly, you saw a black limousine approaching, and, scared that someone important might be there, you shook Sunwoo’s arm and pointed to the car. His eyes widened as well.

But to your surprise, the first person to step out of the car was a man in a tuxedo who then proceeded to open the back door facing the fast-food restaurant. A girl of medium height came out, wearing a black dress that hugged her body in all the right places. When she was closer to the door, you immediately noticed, illuminated by the decadent lights of the place where you were, that she had heavy makeup on her face that beautifully framed her eyes.

The young raven-haired girl sat on the stool in front of the counter. Sunwoo was still speechless. He could only mutter a shy, unprofessional “Ah, hi,” to which the girl responded with a sweet smile. Her gaze shifted to you and you flinched.

“Can I order?” she reached out to grab the menu Sunwoo had sat on earlier. “I guess so.” “The menu with the fattest, greasiest, biggest sandwich you have, please.” Sunwoo snatched the menu out of her hands and shouted “Right away!”, disappearing into the kitchen and leaving you in front of the girl. Outside, you noticed her date glaring at you.

“Not many customers come by, do they?” “We don’t usually see anyone. That’s why your visit surprised us a lot” The girl laughed in a strangely loud way. Strange, I thought she was more composed. “God, please. We will be more or less the same age, don't be so formal,” she wiped her hands on her dress laughing, and then looked at you ready to shake your hand “I'm Karina. It’s a stage name. I model full-time."

You shook hands with her, apologizing for how cold and greasy it might feel. “Well, I… I work here.” The girl smiled at you. “And do you like working here?” “What?”

Sunwoo came with Karina’s order and placed it before her, avoiding her gaze. When he crossed yours, you noticed that the boy had red cheeks. I whispered something to you but you didn’t understand.

It’s been too long since someone asked you what it was like to live a life you no longer wanted. Your mouth dried up and you were unable to answer. Karina shrugged and began eating the sandwich undisturbed.

With her mouth still full from the bite she had just taken, the model opened up to speak. It was evident she was nothing like the stereotype of a typical model; her authenticity was refreshing. Feeling overwhelmed, you moved two stools away from the client, seeking a bit of distance as you listened, intrigued by her unique charm.

"You took those, didn’t you?" Karina found it difficult to eat that part, but she couldn’t help but examine the few decorations in the fast-food restaurant. "Ah, those pictures," you turned your entire body to look at them. "Yes, I took all of them. They’re from our customers who left a special tip." "Special tip?" Karina asked, intrigued. "Yes, for a change of $4, you receive a Polaroid and agree to have it displayed on this wall. It’s not worth much, though, because I’m required to take two pictures for the price of one."

"They are all very pretty. I know some people." "There are a lot of people passing by. Sometimes they tell you their story, take a picture, and then leave, never to return. It’s almost as if-" "Romantic, yes" Karina finished the sentence for you, to your great surprise.

The silence that was created afterward was strangely comfortable. For someone like you who was always uncomfortable when she met strangers, the situation was quite strange. Karina, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease as she was happily humming and chewing at the same time. When the crow finished eating, she got up from her stool, stretched her arms, and put ten euros on the counter.

"Please don't make me change." "Pardon?" "I would like one of those photos. I'm looking forward to experiencing this too." What enthusiasm!

You took the Polaroid and waited for the young woman to pose before taking the picture. Karina made a big heart with her arms and gave you a wink. She is truly a model… "Are you done?" "Done!"

Karina approached you, then stood behind you and waited for the Polaroid to be ready. When she was ready, the girl screamed full of joy. You smiled unconsciously. "I love it, thank you!" she leaned it delicately on the counter and then turned quickly towards you, continuing to talk. "Let’s take the other one! Let’s do it together. Where is that boy? Boy! Boy! Ehiii!" Sunwoo ran out of the kitchen alarmed. "What- what happened?" "Nothing, Sunwoo" You put your hand on your forehead. "Can you take a picture of us? So we can hang it there." Sunwoo looked for your eyes but you avoided him, unable to explain. At which the boy approached the polaroid and urged you to pose. Karina chose the same place where all the other clients had been, saying she would keep the theme, and invited you to place yourself next to her.

Karina was a little taller than you, maybe a few centimeters, but in your eyes there seemed to be a huge difference. You stood closer to her to form the heart and pretended a smile of convenience to allow Sunwoo to take this photo. The proximity to the model sent a bizarre sensation creeping along your spine. Intrigued, you paused to take a closer look at her. In that moment, when no one else was watching, the radiant smile she had worn so confidently faded entirely from her face. Her eyes, once sparkling with warmth, now seemed overshadowed by a deep, unsettling darkness that only amplified her presence. Without warning, the model turned her gaze toward you, her lips curving into a wide grin that revealed a perfect set of thirty-two gleaming teeth. A chill swept over you, wrapping around your body like an icy blanket, leaving you momentarily breathless and disoriented. What the fuck?

"You did such a great job, girls. It's rare for Y/n!" You woke up from the nightmare of falling and responded to Sunwoo with a raised middle finger. "Oh, she's got quite an attitude. I need to leave," Karina said, finally letting go of you after holding you tightly. That girl was beginning to stir strange feelings in you. "The photo turned out just fine. Let me sign it and put the date on it. Come on!" Sunwoo timidly passed the Polaroid to the girl and watched her do everything she said.

With your arms folded you waited for her comfortable finish. Karina approached the corkboard and put your Polaroid on it. He smiled at her and turned, heading for the exit.

"Y/n!" Hearing your name pronounced by the model, you turned to her with an interrogative look. "Tell me" "See you!" and ran off into the limo, leaving behind a trail of expensive perfume and a cheap Polaroid.

That night passed faster than expected and Sunwoo told you - with attached photos - how this fantastic Karina was one of the most popular models in recent years. Besides being beautiful, she was about to debut in the cinema world. The moon was full and the cold was more bitter than usual. An uncomfortable feeling was in your chest, but you let it pass.

While you were going to work the next day, you took some pictures at the illuminated windows of that night. One of the projects you had since moving to that city was to create a collection of photos showing nightlife, although it was difficult to call it "life", of the traders, workers, or people just going out for fun. But you didn’t have enough prestige and money.

When you arrived at work, you greeted Sunwoo coldly, who returned. You worked hard until three in the morning because, as you well know, on Saturday mornings there were waves of guys full of life coming back from bars where they had only drunk, or from discos in the area. You found it a good opportunity to take some pictures for your photo project.

In no time at all it was six o'clock. The sun was beginning to rise and the first rays of sunshine came through the large windows of the structure. You and Sunwoo were getting ready for the end of the shift, but the boy seemed particularly agitated so you told him to leave before you. You would have waited for the other girl to give her the keys and start the shift after. Sunwoo thanked you and ran away. You knew how much he cared about his passion.

The sound of the door creaking open cut through the stillness of the room, jolting you from your thoughts. You glanced at the clock on the wall, your brow furrowing as you noted it was already twenty minutes past the time your colleague was supposed to arrive. Just as you were about to call out, "You’re lat—" your words caught in your throat. Standing in the doorway was not your expected colleague, but the enigmatic man who had accompanied Karina the night before. He stood there, an air of mystery surrounding him, his presence both intriguing and unsettling as he caught your eye.

"How can I help you?" you asked, even though you were pressed for time and the only one in the room. "I was looking for you. It was lucky that I found you right away," the other person replied. You tightened your grip on the broom you had been pretending to sweep with just moments before. "For what purpose?" you inquired.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a crisp white card, sliding it across the table to you. You glanced down to see a neatly printed address alongside the name: Vogue, Karina’s Photoshoot. Confusion washed over you as you looked back up at him. "What does this mean?" you asked. He shifted uneasily, avoiding your gaze. "Miss Karina has requested that you oversee her new photoshoot," he explained, his tone heavy with discomfort. "The previous photographer was let go… rather abruptly. I expect you to be at the studio in two days."

Your hands shook as you faced a big opportunity. You nodded slowly, your mouth half open, unsure what to say. The man smiled and walked away, leaving you stunned. The broom fell from your hands and clattered to the floor. Your knees felt weak, and your mind went blank for a moment. You couldn’t think. You wondered how powerful Karina was and what she wanted from you.

The next day you showed up in the hall of the huge palace, waiting fearlessly for someone to come and call you. You had spent the night before reading and browsing photography books or looking at random palettes that could help you match any clothing you found on Karina.

A tall woman approached you slowly, her expression grim as she pointed to a location on the map she had just tossed at you. What a kindness… You quickly walked toward the meeting place and, upon finding the door, opened it carefully. Inside, a crew of about twenty people turned their curious gazes toward you, along with Karina and her manager.

You slowly approached your collaborators and thanked them timidly for their attention. "We will do everything that needs to be done and we will accomplish it together. All we should do is unite everyone’s ideas and give life to some of the most beautiful photos ever made" Karina, sitting in a velvet chair, put her hand in front of her and laughed candidly.

It didn’t take five hours to create everything that needed to be created. The ideas came from everyone like a river in full flow. Fill a room with artists who are also competitive people and you will get the exact personification of an erupting volcano. You were the Vesuvius and the fashion industry was your Pompeii. The next day you swore to finish the project so that you could go on with the production of the photos.

Karina, who should have been bored at least by having spent the day waiting for others to do their jobs, approached you with a remarkable delicacy and touched your shoulder. "Can you come over there?" Karina pointed to a closet nearby; it was her dressing room. "Uhm, sure" There was no reason to say no. You looked over your shoulder before entering the dressing room with the girl with the brown hair. It was the first time you saw her in a suit and all you could think about was how well she wore anything. It must be nice.

Karina invited you to sit in the two-seater chair with her. Hesitantly, you approached and sat face to face with the girl who flashed a smile revealing thirty-two teeth. "I brought you here because—" You interrupted her before she could finish. "Let’s say you fired the photographer from Vogue so I could come here." "An insignificant detail," she replied.

In Karina's eyes, you saw the same darkness you had observed a few days earlier. It made you hesitant to speak, fearing the words wouldn't come out right. "You must help me," she said. "Why should I?" you asked. Karina rose from her chair and stood in the middle of the room, her expression unreadable as she continued to gaze at you.

"You must. And if you don’t, I’ll take the only real opportunity you’ve got in your miserable life off your hands." "What’s the excuse?" the conversation seemed too much for you, so you immediately put yourself on defense. "You are a beautiful girl, you are good at what you do. I like your photos, I am sincere" "But?"

The frigid air enveloped the room, wrapping around you like an unwelcome shroud, making each breath feel laborious and strained. With every second that passed, a chilling sensation crept through your body, as if the very warmth within you was being siphoned away, leaving you increasingly vulnerable to the oppressive cold.

“You must photograph the emerging actress and model Yuna at a moment that could cause a scandal and ruin her career forever.” “This is fucking crazy,” you jumped up and approached Karina, who didn’t move an inch “I’m leaving, I don’t intend to keep this job and do whatever bullshit you came up with. I knew you were crazy, I understood it immediately"

Karina rolled her eyes, grabbed your arm, and pushed you into the seat. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m capable of destroying your present life and your future life. Be careful what you do. Listen to me and calm down” Karina’s hands were extremely cold but your gaze was even more icy.

“Speak then, cheap model” “It will all be anonymous. Become her friend and her photographer. You have one week. The clock runs out before the day you have to send the completed photoshoot to the Vogue editorial office” “It’s called blackmail” “It’s called seizing opportunities. You won’t get them again”

You looked away for a moment before getting up from your chair and moving back to the center of the room. You walked back and forth, occasionally glancing at Karina.

“They’ll kill me anyway when they realize it’s me” “Don’t worry,” Karina stood up to get closer to you, “We’ll use an external computer and no one will ever know” “A person will be involved, I don’t think I’m capable of it” “She won’t die” Karina had an amused grin on her face.

You thought back to Sunwoo and how he loved what he did like no one else. However, the most selfish part of you had surfaced. You wanted to pursue a career in photography, and you were unconcerned about the people who would be affected by your ambition. You would have done anything to make your dream a reality.

“I’m in” You held out your hand to Karina, surprised by your sudden change of heart. When Karina squeezed your hand you noticed it was as cold as yours. And that perhaps you were more similar than you could have imagined.

You never imagined that the next day you would find yourself taking pictures of the woman who had asked you to ruin the life of another model without remorse. You had discovered that all your collaborators considered Karina a sweet, kind, and always available girl, while in your eyes, every time you looked at her, you felt like you were looking at a monster.

Once the photoshoot was over and, therefore, the work you had to do for Vogue, you walked into the Karaoke where Karina had asked you to meet. The room was insolently small - maybe the girl liked everything smaller - and the nauseating smell made you immediately understand what kind of dump it was.

“Don’t you like it here?” asked Karina, who was cross-legged and munching on some chips, which she offered you and you refused. “It’s pretty disgusting” “It’s okay. We won’t be here long”

Karina took her Gianni Chiarini bag and pulled out three photos. One was of Yuna, the other of a girl you couldn’t identify, and in the last photo, there was you.

“What does that mean?” “Yuna is having an affair with this girl.” Karina touched the face print of the girl whose name you didn’t know with her painted nail and then continued. “In case you didn’t understand, your photo is there because I wanted to let you know that I had you followed a week before I showed up at your place of work by a trusted friend of mine.” “What?” you were visibly shocked. “Don’t worry, honey. I will only use the information I have on you if you don’t cooperate.” A disturbing smile made you doubt her sincerity.

“Why are you so mad at this girl?” “Because she can’t keep what’s hers.” “What does that mean translated…?” Karina huffed and put the photos back in her bag. “We grew up in this industry together. We achieved success together. And then she cheated on me.”

You were stunned. “All this just because he didn't hold your hand throughout the journey of your life? Are you crazy-” “She cheated on me countless times. She told my parents that I’m a lesbian, they haven’t spoken to me since that day. And to top it all off, she stopped me from working for a year, taking away the most important collaboration of my life”

You almost felt sorry, but you didn’t say anything. Her eyes radiated something else. Maybe she too was human and was simply tired.

“Become her new fuck buddy. Treat her well and then you can be sure that you’ll end up finding her making out with someone else. Take as many pictures as you can and you’ll be free forever” “I don’t- Who told you I like women?” “My dear friend” “God, fuck Karina” “Um, maybe this collaboration will lead to something good?”

You looked up in shock and found a rather smiling Karina. “Do you start talking about sex when you're done talking about revenge? You’re crazy.” “I can’t help it if revenge turns me on like crazy.” Karina slowly ran her tongue over her upper lip, while you looked at her with wide eyes.

“Are you really… My god, you do this to everyone?” “Everyone who? You’re probably the last woman in three years that I’ve found truly attractive!” You rested your face on the fist you’d created with your right hand.

“Do you feel lonely?” Karina looked at you intently and nodded, gently moving her head. “Me too. That’s why I’ll help you. I see reflected in your eyes the same sadness that I feel." That's what it was.

“Y/n” “Tell me” “Do a good job” “I’ll try”

Karina finished all the chips that were left on the table, while you looked at her intently and prayed that the day you would meet Yuna would never come.

Unexpectedly, you received a call the next day: a very familiar voice invited you to participate in a graphic project that involved twenty different photographers who would take pictures of Yuna during a typical month of hers at the beach. Fans are certainly crazy to buy this, but it's all for the career, right?

Your first encounter with Yuna was ordinary. Where normal means you were struck by how tall and beautiful she was, even though Karina had gotten you used to it well. Yuna walked over to you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Y/n, right? I saw some photos of your portfolio and I loved them. The way you capture what's around is extremely sincere. Thank you for accepting. I am eternally grateful”

Yuna was warm. You noticed it immediately. Her body temperature had nothing to do with Karina's. Yuna's smile, moreover, really showed a sincere kindness. The photos you took were delicate, beautiful, and… real. But you remembered what Karina had told you and quickly came to your senses.

You spent two days taking photographs for one of the most beloved women in the world - that's what the charts said - and on the last evening, Yuna and her manager dragged all twenty of you to a pub.

Yuna, clearly drunk, stood up on a chair and started screaming. “Thank you! You were amazing! This project will come out amazing. Now let’s get our glasses up, we have to celebrate!” As everyone downed a few glasses of beer, you noticed a familiar face looking sweetly at Yuna. It was her girlfriend. You asked the boy next to you to switch seats and, perhaps nodding his head, he permitted you.

"Hi, I'm Y/n" "Ah, nice to meet you, I'm Haseul! Yuna showed me your photos. They're beautiful, congratulations" How cute, I almost feel sorry for using her like that. "I see you're looking at Yuna with sweet eyes… Is there something underneath?" the little laugh you let out right after should have helped break the tension, but it only made it grow even more. Haseul wiped the sweat on her pants and then spoke to you.

"I love her more than anyone else in the world" Ah. "It must be nice to love someone" You ran a hand uncomfortably behind your neck. "It's nice to have someone by your side. We're almost always together. I only have her. After what Yuna went through last year, she's become even stronger" A strong curiosity grew in you.

"What happened to her?" "Her ex-girlfriend cheated on her, Yuna found out and told her parents to shoot her an arrow that would cause her the same pain" "That's not possible" "Plus Yuna lost a very important job with Saint Laurent. She spent sleepless nights because of Karin-" Haseul quickly covered her face with her hands.

"Karina. Are you sure it was her fault?" "Ask anyone you want. She lied to everyone and messed up half the plans of people here just to go out and cheat on her girlfriend. Everyone hates her. She's just a pretty face in this industry"

Your head started to spin, maybe from drinking too much alcohol. “I’m going to get some fresh air!” “Shall I accompany you?” “It doesn’t matter, thanks.”

Outside, on the side of an empty road, you threw up next to a dumpster. Karina had been lying to you. She was evil, she was crazy, and a total dickhead. Everyone knew it but you. Because you had been a normal person until the week before. You had seen the surface, never what was underneath.

You understood that Karina would treat you like Yuna. You understood that the only solution would be to refuse, but your career was at stake.

Yuna came out and walked over to you. “I’m sorry you found out. I know everything. Karina isn’t the only one who can spy on people without being accused.” “Do you know everything?” “From the stupid meeting at the fast food restaurant to the job opportunities she offered you. Her dear friend, aka her manager, is Shin Yuna here’s dearest friend.”

You looked into her eyes. “I’ll have to… No, hurt you. I don’t want to.” I wanted to, but now I don’t want to anymore. “It doesn’t matter. Do it.” “How could I?” Haseul came closer to the two of you. “You can’t hurt us. When you find someone in life who loves you, life has a whole different meaning.”

The cold suddenly hit you. And, strangely, you thought for a second that those two were crazy. “Yuna would lose her job,” you continued “But I will never lose the people I love. And anyway,” Yuna put her arm around Haseul’s waist, “I won’t be in this industry for long.”

Haseul looked you in the eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry.”

As you made your way home, your eyes caught the massive posters of Karina that adorned the streets yet, beneath your admiration, a swirl of conflicting emotions surged inside you; you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was not only a bit unpredictable but also a master of deception. Despite all that, you felt an undeniable urge to kiss her.

The karaoke seemed more rotten than usual. Karina didn’t seem to belong there at all. The last day, the decisive one, had now arrived. You sat down, like the last time, in front of the raven-haired girl.

“Hi, Y/n. I see you well. How are you?” “Better than you can imagine” “My ears only want to hear good news”

You took her usual bag of chips from her hands and started munching on them. “What do you think of your modeling job?” “I hate it” Karina, to your surprise, answered without even thinking for a second. “Why?” “There is no sincerity in what I do. But it is the only job that puts me in contact with hundreds of people a week. It makes me feel less alone”

You put the chips on the table and took out the incriminating photos. “Yuna and Haneul, as you asked me and here I have,” you took out the USB stick, “the murder weapon!” Karina looked at you with wide eyes. “Did you… Do it?” “Your charm won me over, unfortunately, I have to admit it” Even though You were ironic, Karina's cheeks turned pink.

Karina pulled out a computer without making eye contact with you. Then she ordered you to open it. In front of your eyes was a fairly famous site where you were supposed to upload incriminating photos of Yuna and Haseul.

“Y/n. I have to tell you something" As you wrote the description of the photos you would publish immediately after, you signaled Karina to continue.

“Maybe it's because I haven't felt someone's affection for a long time, maybe it's because I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore without crying but…” “After Karina, after” “You said…” “Let me talk”

Seeing Karina so vulnerable and with teary eyes made you feel guilty, but what you wanted to do you would have done without complaining. Karina, however, seemed ready to let go of everything, to take a decisive step.

“Karina, kiss me” “Why should I do that? Are you crazy?” “Last time you seemed intent on doing much more!” you raised your voice. “If I kiss you it’s only because I want to show you how I feel!”

You both were incredibly close. The intensity of the conversation had drawn you from the karaoke sofas, and now you stood face to face, the air feeling thick between you. Karina was the first to make a move. She reached behind your neck, gripped your hair tightly, and swallowed hard. You didn't want to initiate the kiss; you wanted her to take the lead. And that’s exactly what she did. Karina leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, but the kiss was tentative, almost shy. She clearly wanted you to respond, but you held back. The kiss ended before it truly began.

“Why?” she asked, embarrassed. You, in response, checked your phone and went back to finishing the article on the computer. You connected your phone to the computer and transferred the photos.

“What about the USB stick?” “I’ll give it to you as soon as I’m finished”

Five minutes passed before you closed the computer. The die was cast. And so is your life and Karina's. There was no turning back, in any way.

“Y/n?” “Done” “Good…” Karina grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around herself. You did the same.

“Why did you lie to me?” “What are you talking about, Y/n? “Tell me the truth. Haseul and Yuna told me everything. I also spoke to other colleagues. All the same version. You’re a liar, Karina.”

Karina looked back at you with a blank stare. “And what are you?” “That’s not the point.” Karina slammed her fist on the table. “From everything they told you, did you only understand that I’m a liar?” “How can I trust you, Karina?”

Karina hugged the blanket and started biting her nails. "You know when I'm lying. You can feel it. You know when I’m not natural. I understood immediately when we met that there was a different connection between us." “Do you say that to everyone?” “You’re not funny, Y/n!” Karina screamed and threw the bag of chips in your direction, making a mess in the room.

“It’s not funny to make fun of people. You used me.” “I didn’t!” “So what did you do, Karina? How would you call what you did?” “I tried to keep you as close as possible… I don’t have anyone. Yuna wanted to leave me and I had sex with someone else the next day! Our relationship was over.” “People can’t love you if you pretend to be someone else.” “Everyone abandoned me. They abandoned me when I pretended to be the sweet and kind Karina and when I was the real Karina!”

Karina seemed to have reached a point of no return, but you could do nothing but pity her. Now you just had to tell her your truth.

“Karina, listen to me. Yuna got what she got because she moved on and recognized that love can be found anywhere. Her career is worth a thousand times more than a career like yours that was built on pain. Just forget about this life. Start over again." “The only one I have is my manager. I have no ambitions, I have no love. I just wanted someone to feel the way I do.” “We all fight for something, Karina! I fight for photography and you’ve been fighting against yourself for too long!”

Karina seemed to be furious. “You don’t understand. I’ve been alone all my life! The only one who’s close to me is my manag-” “No, he’s Yuna’s informant. When he handed me the ticket for Vogue, I immediately understood that he was not on your side, Karina”

“Karina” “I hate you. Will you stop throwing the truth in my face? I know, damn, I know I’m alone. I've never gotten along well with anyone. But with you, I had a good time. Time never seemed to end. You’ll abandon me too. You all do the same when I show you how I am”

You turned the computer towards her. “Karina, I posted the photos. Look at them. First, breathe and then rationalize” Karina did as you said, too vulnerable to go against you.

When she saw the article with the photo of you she couldn’t say a word. She just asked you, in a weak voice, why you did it. “We can start over, Karina. They already had everything. In their eyes, I saw what was missing in ours. Rise from the ashes Karina or die forever, it would make more sense than continuing to pretend to live in someone else’s body”

You got up from the room, knowing that the news with the photo of you and Karina kissing would do more harm to her than to you. You shut the door behind you. You turned around. Outside you waited for Karina, hoping she would come out so you could comfort her. But that didn’t happen.

The news caused a scandal. The billboards with Karina disappeared, her role as the lead actress in that new movie was deleted and for more than a month, all anyone talked about was that photo. No one recognized your face; next to Karina, you looked quite bad. Yuna called you and guaranteed that your name and work would remain in the photo book. The Vogue photos were never published. You stuck them up, with Sunwoo’s help, in the fast food restaurant.

Sometimes someone stopped to observe them and Sunwoo took care of answering their questions. Very naturally, he said that Karina loved coming to this fast food restaurant - before it disappeared - and that you were her favorite.

Six months had gone by, yet the ache in your chest refused to fade, a constant reminder of the unresolved feelings haunting you. Each night, you lay alone in bed, tears soaking your pillow, knowing that no one would come to comfort you—and that no one would offer her the same kindness. In those haunting hours, you grappled with memories and regrets, feeling the weight of your sorrow pressing down on you like a heavy shroud.

“What a beautiful day! Life has never been so beautiful!” “Sunwoo, it’s just your first role in a stupid TV series” “A stupid TV series that you’ll watch!”

You and Sunwoo had become great workmates again. This time, you were the one who requested more hours, and Sunwoo, despite having found a second job, had decided to work alongside you in each of them.

Sometimes you look at the street illuminated by the street lamps. You hadn't been able to move on. After Yuna’s photobook came out, your name appeared on many other projects. You had started working with many more idols. But there was no one like her.

“Still thinking about it?” “My mind is occupied with her, Sunwoo” “You couldn’t contact her?” “No one has her number and no one has been close to her. At least I know she’s not dead” “Yeah…”

It was four in the morning on a random Thursday when a black car pulled up on the road and parked in front of the fast food restaurant. Sunwoo let out a scream and hid behind the counter. “Is that the police? What have you done, Y/n?” “Stop it, you idiot, and get the emergency number ready. You never know”

But a woman with blonde hair, no makeup, and wearing a sweatshirt that looked very expensive, stepped out of the car. At first, you and Sunwoo couldn’t figure out who she was, you could only guess that she was extremely attractive from the way she walked.

When the first light from the fast food restaurant hit her face, Karina revealed herself to you with a shy smile. “Sunwoo…” she waved at the boy. “And well… Y/n… How are you doing?”

Sunwoo let out another scream. This time you did the same. Then you started to cry, unable to control your emotions. Karina threw herself at you and hugged you with teary eyes. After you both calmed down, Sunwoo fried you two large portions of fries and left the place for a moment, pretending to have received a call.

“Y/n. I look at you…” “Terribly, terribly” “Yes, well. You’ve lost weight” You squeezed her hands tightly. Warm tears fell onto Karina's white hands.

“Sorry” “Stop it, it’s okay. Look at me” Karina took your face in her hands and forced you to look at her. Then she continued to speak. “It had to be this way. I was reborn from the ashes, okay? But I want you to do the same. Let’s help each other. We’ve been alone for too long and…”

Karina stopped to look at the road, her eyes shining. “I missed you. The real you is so annoying, sexy, and cute at the same time. I'm happy to hear you're well."

Karina then looked back at you and looked at the palms of your hands. “Come with me. I'm full of money. Let's run away from here, let's go where no one knows us" "Karina" "It doesn't matter if you tell me now. You destroyed my previous life though! I expect you to pick up the broken pieces and put them back together"

She made you laugh and you thanked fate for having met her. You gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Karina looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you just kissing me back?” “Karina, there’s a time for everything” “You know, Y/n, I have a few things I need to tell you about myself. Did you know that I especially love dark chocolate and hate milk chocolate?”

“Karina,” you stood up from the stool and locked your eyes with his. "Tell me, Y/n" “We have all the time to learn to love each other” “And we have all the time to learn to live”

Sunwoo burst into the fast food restaurant, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. He couldn’t contain his excitement as he shared the incredible news: he had secured a role in a film directed by a renowned filmmaker. The moment was electric, filled with laughter and heartfelt congratulations as you both celebrated his achievement. Before leaving this familiar place, you and Karina decided to capture the memory with a photo at the very spot where your journey had begun. As the camera clicked, you were acutely aware that this moment marked a turning point. You stood there, smiling and cherishing the memory, knowing deep down that you were ready to embrace the future and leave the past behind, resolutely moving forward without looking back.

[cumikering]

Barista Keegan x reader

4.8k | fluff The barista at your campus library had the prettiest icy blues, striking against his black leather jacket

It was ten minutes to your next lecture. You gathered your laptop and notes off the table and took the last sip of your coffee – bland now because the ice had melted.

On your way out, you placed the dirty glass on the counter as you mumbled a thanks. The barista, always the same one with the prominent blue eyes, turned from the machine and nodded wordlessly over his shoulder.

The class was always slow, but the coffee helped you to not doze off. Besides, you had something to look forward to after. Outside the lecture hall, your best friend waved at you with a grin. You couldn’t help but return it. She linked arms with you and headed to the parking lot.

“I think I’m getting this,” Monty said as she held her phone out, showing you the birthday dress for her dinner the coming month. She’d been looking forward to the trip to the boutique for her dress fitting.

“Oh, that’s a lovely colour!” you gushed, admiring the pinkish champagne fabric. She would look gorgeous in it.

As you climbed into the front seat of her car, you stalled as you saw the barista again. It was your first time seeing him without his signature apron, but it wasn’t hard to recognise his jet-black hair and sharp jaw. He zipped up his leather jacket and swung his leg over his bike before looking up. The eye contact made your heart stop, but you quickly snapped your gaze away and strapped yourself in.

Monty chuckled, following your previous line of sight. “Is that the barista from the library?”

Out the windshield, he tipped his chin up slightly to fasten his helmet. It was enough for you to catch a glimpse of the movement of his thick neck. He leaned in, looking impressively built grasping the handlebar of his black motorbike as it came to life with a rumble. With the back of his boot, he flipped the kickstand up and rode away.

“I knew you always had a thing for bikers,” she teased.

You waved your hand dismissively, the heat creeping up your neck.

“Well, I was asking if you’d like a dress in a matching shade?”

“Of course! I have time this weekend, I can find-”             

“Great, because I was thinking you can try on some dresses with me too.” She beamed, starting her car. “The sooner the better, right?”

The outing lasted longer than expected - the both of you had too much fun trying on all the cute dresses. While Monty settled with her initial choice, you found a simple one in a complimentary shade. After dinner and a movie, she dropped you home close to 11. Unfortunately, it meant you had more schoolwork to do the next day to make up for it.

Last semester, the university got the library revamped with an atrium and a coffee shop. You’d made it a habit to study there, and inadvertently saw the barista a lot. You didn’t mean to. It was not your fault he worked there on the days you came in.

You usually came between classes, but that Friday was an exception. When you found yourself heading to the library after your only class, you told yourself it was because the atmosphere was less depressing than your cramped studio apartment. It didn’t hurt that the drinks were good.

Definitely not because of the handsome and tattooed barista with his pretty eyes. Or that his voice was ridiculously silky like he was purring when he repeated your order at the register. Did he always sound like that, or was it just his library voice?

“One iced caramel latte,” he called in a gentle tone.

From across the room, you made your way to the counter. When you looked up, he smiled at you.

Despite his deadpan tone and sharp eyes, it wasn’t that he was unfriendly. He was always polite, but it was your first time seeing him really smile – like he meant to.

You flashed him a smile in return as the butterflies stirred in your belly, but averted your gaze down to his nametag. Keegan R. Obviously still the same since you first saw it those months ago.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. You grabbed your drink and hurried back to your table.

You weren’t there to see him – wasn’t trying to. It wasn’t your fault he worked there, was it?

As you sipped between the pages of your textbook, you looked up to the darkening sky, the clouds swirling. The trees swayed in the wind before the first drop of rain splattered on the tall glass ceiling.

It looked like the rain would last a while. You pulled out your earbuds, preferring the pitter patter of the rain and powered through your essay. Thankfully, you weren’t stuck somewhere unpleasant, and you had almost two hours until the library closed. Surely the rain would have passed by then.

Wrong.

When a figure approached you, the rain had barely slowed.

“Just a heads up, dear, we close in 15 minutes,” the librarian said, always with the polite smile.

“Right. Okay.“

“Diana, mind if I lock up today? I’ll have to wait the rain out anyway,” Keegan chimed from his counter.

“Oh, sure,” she answered and looked back at you. “Well, you can stay longer then.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

As the last few students left the building, you thought it was Diana approaching your table once more, but it was Keegan instead.

“Would you like anything else to drink? On the house.”

“Sorry?”

“I get a free drink for each shift. I figured I’d make you something since you come here a lot.”

You didn’t know what to make of the fact that he noticed, but you smiled. “Dealer’s choice? Whatever’s convenient for you.”

You looked up when Diana bade her goodbyes to Keegan and dropped her keys off on the counter, leaving the both of you in the building. You supposed it was time for a break. You packed your books aside and pulled up a gameplay video of your latest obsession.

“One iced Franken-latte.” Keegan placed two cups on the table. “Or two. It didn’t fit in one glass.”

“A what?”

“Frankenstein latte. I’ve never tried it, but my coworker always makes it after his shift.”

So it wasn’t his library voice. His voice was that honeyed for no reason.

You tried to bite down your grin. “One for you then.”

“Why not.” He shrugged, blue eyes wondering to your laptop screen. “Is that A Way Out?”

“Yes! Have you played?”

He pulled out the chair next to you. “My roommate absolutely sucks at games so not more than an hour unfortunately. Have you?”

You shook your head. “Got no console,” you said, reaching for the cup. “Well, thanks for this.”

He hummed and followed suit after you took a sip of the unsuspecting latte.

You didn’t want to be rude, but your brows couldn’t help but knit. Your wary gaze slid to him. Was this a prank?

Keegan turned to you with a deadpan expression before sighing. “That tastes terrible.” He placed the cup back on the table. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have trusted Kick and his fruity, salted caramel toothpaste.”

You laughed. “What the hell is in this?”

“A dash of every syrup.” He got up, heat colouring his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. He swears it’s the best, but I’m not sure what he smokes anymore these days.” He gathered your cups and made his way behind the counter.

You followed him, still chuckling as he dumped the cursed lattes in the sink.

“Could I make you something else?” he called behind his shoulder.

“That’s fine.” You looked out the window. “I think the rain won’t last much longer anyway.”

He turned to you, seemingly wounded by the rejection. “I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose. I do hope that wouldn’t stop you from coming back.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be back, of course,” you reassured. “At least we can say we’ve tried every syrup.”

His shoulders relaxed as he gave you a small smile. As he cleaned his station for closing, you leaned against the wooden counter and asked what he’d been playing on his console. You discussed your favourite games and upcoming releases, finding that you both had a common taste in games.

You made him laugh. The way the deep rumble from his chest made you bite your lip, it was just as well he had his back to you. At least he wouldn’t catch you staring at his muscles casually flexing as he wiped down the already-spotless stainless-steel counters.

“All done now,” he announced, taking one last look at his work. He reached behind to remove his apron before excusing himself to the back of the house.

You almost didn’t notice the rain had stopped to a mere trickle. You, too, retreated to your table to pack your laptop. Embarrassment flared at how much you enjoyed looking at him and his tattooed arms. You could only do it from across the room, so how could anyone blame you for being greedy when you could stand so close? But you weren’t supposed to be admiring him any more than you already did whenever you studied, yet there you were, fuelling your aimless infatuation.

Moments after, he joined you at the door, now clad in his leather jacket and backpack, his shiny black helmet in hand.

“Thanks again for the drink,” you said as he locked up. “Keegan,” you added, albeit a little too late for it to sound natural.

He turned to you with a sparkle in his vibrant blue eyes. “You’re welcome. I promise to make you something better next time.”

You only realised now he was a few inches taller than you. You smiled before shifting your gaze to your feet and nodded.

“Where did you park?”

“I’m walking home.”

“Do you want a ride?” he asked, not missing a beat.

Keegan rode slow the few minutes to your apartment. He wore his backpack in reverse and said you could hold onto its straps - out of courtesy you hoped. He’d been too nice with the drink and ride, but at least your place was on his way to his, so you didn’t feel too bad.

You thanked him in front of your building, earning you a nod. Or maybe more, who knew, he had his helmet on. With that, you turned, chewing on your lip. The flutters were more than just from the thrill of the ride.

Being so close to him, you couldn’t help but inhale him in the breeze.  The sweet earthiness of leather, robust coffee, a hint of sweat, and a dash of smoke and gasoline somewhere in there. The scent would haunt you for a little longer.

After two steps, he called, “H-Hey- uh, hold on.“

Keegan couldn’t believe it. He got your number.

Never mind that he stumbled over his words when he asked. It didn’t help that the wind had tousled your hair making you even more adorable. But you smiled so sweetly when you handed his phone back to him and he had your number.

For months, each week you’d come to the library two out of the four days he worked. Of course he noticed. You’d pick the table in the far corner and study with your earphones on. You were always a little shy, never meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds each time. No matter, it meant he had more time to look at your pretty face up close, because otherwise he could only steal glances from afar.

In his last year of engineering degree, he had far fewer classes and could work more hours. But when he studied behind the counter, it didn’t feel as lonely with you there across the room.

But you were always just that to him: a muse, a fantasy, a distant company. He didn’t know any more than your name. He didn’t know what you studied, if you had a boyfriend… He didn’t even want to smile nor acknowledge this - what if he got too attached?

But that Thursday when you tore your gaze away from his in the parking lot, something shifted. Maybe he wasn’t just a dude who made your coffee after all.

So on Friday the next day when you unexpectantly came, Keegan couldn’t hold back his excitement. You usually came on Tuesday and Thursday, he assumed between classes. It was just his luck you stayed until closing so he could make a complimentary drink for his favourite customer. Baristas did that all the time, right?

However, in the flurry, he didn’t think through Kick’s recipe. He’d always been skeptical, but why else would his colleague make it so often? He should have listened to his guts because it was repulsive. But you laughed, and- oh God, you were so pretty. And you liked the games he liked? It was unbelievable.

So with his back to you, he scrubbed and scrubbed the counters as you chatted until his arms ached. He didn’t want to turn to you and look creepy with his uncontainable grin. Would he ever get another chance to talk to you like this again?

He spent his entire weekend itching to say something to you, but he couldn’t figure out what to text and therefore was forced to wait until you’d drop by the library again. He didn’t see you on Monday, as he’d expected. But when Tuesday afternoon came around, the buzz in him intensified. Any minute now.

When you approached the glass door, he busied himself, not wanting to look like a puppy with its wet nose against the window as its tail wagged. But when you said hello, he whipped to you so fast, the grin already on his face.

“Hi. What can I get you today?”

You smiled, maybe even laughed a little. Did his voice crack?

Your gaze dropped to the summer menu. “One pink lemonade, please.”

He tapped on the tablet. “My treat. To make up for the other day.”

“Oh, no. You can’t do that-“

He turned to the fridge. “Coming right up.”

You placed the bills into the tip jar instead.

On your way to your next class, you placed the dirty cup on the counter. “Thanks, Keegan. See you around.”

He made his way to you and cleared his throat. “I can give you a ride home on Thursday if you want,” he said, remembering last week when he saw you at the parking lot. “I’ll bring my old helmet you can wear.”

“Oh, you’ve been too nice. Thanks so much, but I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I really don’t mind, but that’s only if you want to.”

You smiled. “If you say so.”

When your lecture ended that Thursday, Keegan was already waiting with a tumbler of lemonade and two helmets. You came out with a girl next to you, radiant as you chatted with her. She’d come to the library a few times with you to get her caramel macchiato with oat milk.

You did a double take, but your smile widened when your pretty eyes met his. You were supposed to meet him at the library, but he’d taken the liberty to surprise you instead. You introduced him to your friend Montana who didn’t bother to hide the knowing look she shot your way.

It only made his stomach flip. Was he being too obvious?

In front of his bike, you waved goodbye at Montana as she drove off. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea riding in the summer, a fact he’d never mulled over until he stood there as you sipped your ice cold lemonade. He gulped.

With a small laugh, you offered the last half of the drink, which he gladly chugged. It was just what he needed.

He handed you his old helmet, deep red - his first one. It was perfectly functional, albeit scuffed up from all the times he carelessly dropped it onto the grating pavement, or knocked it over tables and chairs over the years.

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

He zipped his jacket up. “No. Why?”

“You want to get something to eat?”

He smiled. “We can go anywhere.”

Keegan picked his favourite burger joint, the one at the pier. You chatted as you ate, and as pretty as the ocean was outside, the air conditioning indoors was too comfortable to pass up on. You shared another serving of fries, and he wished the table was smaller so he could be closer to you.

Why did it feel so good being around you? There was no awkward silence even when no words were exchanged. The quiet was easy; on his brain too, because he’d never been the chattiest in the room. You exuded serenity, the kind that gave him a dash of nervousness that kept his stomach tossing in delight. He couldn’t look away - he wanted to lean in closer and closer.

You insisted on paying, and with a pleased smile, he let you. It would simply be an excuse to return the favour with more drinks.

Later when you hopped on his bike, he didn’t expect for your arms to wrap around his waist. His breath hitched. Was this really happening? Surely, you only did this for safety purposes. He shouldn’t be reading that much into it. Although it would be embarrassing if you could feel his heartbeat going crazy if you leaned in any longer.

When you got off his bike in front of your building, he turned to you and popped his visor up.

You took the helmet off and handed it back to him. “Thanks for today, Keegan.”

“You’re welcome.” He took it with a grin. “I had fun.”

You smiled. “Me too.”

“I was wondering… If you’d like to come over and play A Way Out tomorrow? Alex should be home too. We can get pizza for dinner after.” He was glad his face was covered because he could have sworn he was beet red under it. “Only if you have time, of course.”

You averted your eyes, but your smile only brightened. “I’d like that.”

“Then you keep this. For tomorrow.” He held out the helmet towards you.

And so it became a routine.

Some days, Keegan would wait with a drink in his tumbler in front of your lecture hall before heading to his own class. Once a week, you’d make him sandwiches for lunch and drop them off at the library. Sometimes you’d do schoolwork there together.

He tried to not make it obvious that every now and then he’d linger around to spend a little more time with you, be it to grab a bite or to simply give you a ride home – something he always did when your schedules allowed anyway. But on Fridays, you always came over to his place to game.

Not only was co-op gaming with you insanely fun, he also guided you on how to play some of his favourite single-player games. The way you’d laugh in delight, he could listen to you all day. And he did, sitting next to you watching you play. This was more his thing anyway: enjoying your presence without having to always talk.

Ajax, who was reserved (if he wasn’t, Keegan wouldn’t have been close friends with him since high school, let alone be his flatmate), didn’t take long to warm up to you either. While he was quiet at the first pizza dinner, he lingered whenever he emerged out of his room, standing by the couch munching on his potato chips as he nodded approvingly at each shot you got. Soon, he would wedge himself next to Keegan to cheer you on and hype you up.

You’d turn to him with a proud smile. Yeah, he could sit there next to you all day.

Meanwhile, something had been brewing in Keegan’s mind. He’d been wanting to take you to the helmet shop too pick out something you like, but he was worried it was too forward, too much of a commitment. What if you got the wrong idea? Well, evidently, he did want to articulate that idea, but what if he scared you away instead? He hadn’t even held your hand.

And so he did what he did best: be patient and wait. He’d rather be sure you were comfortable with him than rush into things and ruin any chance he had with you. No matter how subtle, you would give him signs, right?

The last Saturday before Monty’s birthday, you went out for ice cream with her before going to her final fitting. When she suggested dinner afterwards, you told her you’d made plans with Keegan.

“So what’s going on with you and him?” she asked as she smoothed down her dress, smiling teasingly through the large full length mirror.

“Nothing.”

“He’ll be your plus one at my dinner, right?” She twisted, inspecting the dress on her.

“What? No! He doesn’t see me like that.” You swatted your hand. “We’re just friends,” you trailed off, trying to not slump in your seat.

“He definitely likes you! Why else would you be out with him on Saturday night?”

“He doesn’t. He… He never makes a move.” Your gaze dropped to the ground.

Monty marched to you and gripped you by the shoulders. “Oh my God! How is waiting outside your lecture hall with a freshly made drink only to give you a ride home not a move?”

“But…”

“I would have believed if you told me he didn’t have the muscles to smile, until I saw him with you.” She shook her head. “The poor guy. Put him out of his misery already!”

When Keegan picked you up for dinner from the boutique, Montana was all smiles while you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze.

“Is something the matter?” he asked, handing you the helmet.

You shook your head, fastening the strap.

You’d tell him when you were ready, and he could be patient. But at the taco place as he stared at you staring at your hands under the table – it was uncharacteristic of him, the silence grated against him. Did he do something?

“Did I-“

“Keegan,” you started at the same time, eyes flicking to him before dropping back.

“Yes?” he asked hopefully.

“Would you want to come to Monty’s dinner with me?”

He grinned, relieved. “Of course, yes. It would be my pleasure.”

As if the tension had melted, you were your normal self again, giggly and warm. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but you held his gaze longer than usual. He liked it. He loved looking into your pretty eyes. He scooted his seat closer to the table, letting his foot rest against yours. You didn’t move away.

For dessert, he got you a churro from the food truck nearby. His stomach flipped when your fingers brushed his when he handed it to you.

On the way to yours, at the red light – oh, he’d been aching to do this for weeks - he finally plucked up the courage to squeeze his hand over yours as you held onto his waist. You held on tighter. He liked to think you smiled behind him, the shy kind perhaps. You always looked adorable with it.

Over the next week, you sat a little closer to him – maybe only an inch or two, but it didn’t elude him. You didn’t look away nearly as much as you used to either. He liked that you were finally comfortable enough with him.

In a burst of confidence, he grasped your hand as he walked you to class. It made his heart flutter whenever you’d look up at him with a smile like that. You walked closer to him, your other hand clasped over his tattooed arm. He bit down his grin.

Before Keegan knew it, it was Montana’s birthday.

That evening, in front of the bathroom mirror, he brushed his fingers through his hair and leaned in, inspecting his handiwork. Was it supposed to look this way? He hadn’t had to style his hair in such a long time (his helmet wouldn’t have allowed it).

“Dude, you look fine, I swear,” Ajax called from the couch. “She already likes you anyway.”

He stood in front of the doorway facing his roommate, voice hopeful. “Are you sure?”

He did a once over as Keegan smoothed down his crisp black button down and dark jeans. Freshly shaved, he’d also put on some cologne for the occasion.

“Affirmative. Just go already!” He slipped past him, slamming the bathroom door behind him. “I’ve been holding my piss in for half an hour!”

He laughed and bade his goodbye, not forgetting to pick up the keys on the table. Ajax had told him to drive his car for the night, an offer he gratefully took.

At your door, Keegan shifted his weight as he, once more, examined his boots, his hands shoved in his pockets. When you opened the door, his greeting wedged in his throat.

“You’re-“ His eyes scanned down your outfit, letting out an inaudible ‘wow’. “You’re gorgeous.”

You were stunning in your peach dress, the shade complementing your skin. You’d done your hair too, pretty in your heels and glossy lips.

You smiled, reaching to place a hand on his forearm. “Thank you. You look really nice yourself.”

At the venue, Montana lit up when she saw you, but clasped her hand over her laughter when she registered the large gift you carried. She donned a sequin dress, the shade similar to yours. You embraced and gushed over each other’s outfit before her attention turned to the Hello Kitty plushie you cradled. She wore a pink helmet and a matching racing suit - you told him she was a Formula One fan. He smiled. It was endearing how much you adored each other.

Montana had assigned her boyfriend, Troy, and you to sit next to her, with Keegan by your side. She would have liked the Hello Kitty to get her own seat at the table too, alas, she didn’t RSVP and had to sit among the other gifts. As you chatted with the neighbouring guests at dinner, your hand on his thigh comforted him. He didn’t usually like large gatherings, especially one where he didn’t know most of the attendants, but you didn’t make him feel left out as you included him in the conversation. His hand enveloped yours in appreciation as he tried to hide his smile behind his glass.

After dessert, the ladies got up to dance to the upbeat music. You and your girls laughed on the dancefloor, enjoying yourselves. He couldn’t help the grin that bloomed on his face. Did you always look that beautiful?

Focused on you, he didn’t realise Montana had made her way to him.

“Go dance with her.”

Keegan chuckled. He didn’t know how to dance.

“Come on, don’t make her wait too long now.” She walked away, shooting a teasing smile over her shoulder.

He let out a small laugh as he pushed his chair back. If he had to embarrass himself, you were the only one he wanted to do it for. As he approached, your girls stepped away with a giggle, making you frown in confusion.

At the sight of him, you relaxed.

“Would you like to dance with me?”

You nodded, your smile widening.

He took a step in, tentatively resting his hands on your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and started swaying. He followed, careful to not step on your toes, but honestly, he was content to bask in the proximity and simply stare into your eyes like so.

Just as he thought the electronic music wasn’t ideal, the song abruptly changed into something slower. You laughed. Montana couldn’t have been more obvious with this, huh?

Your thumb brushed the nape of his neck, sending tingles down his spine. With a shaky breath, he leaned in, forehead resting against yours before shutting his eyes. This close, he could smell you – sweet and soft.

Were his palms sweating? Probably, but he couldn’t tell with the way they fitted perfectly on your waist.

You rested your cheek on his shoulder, but must have felt his heartbeat picking up because you looked up at him with an amused look.

His icy blues were already on you, tender yet intense. “Can I kiss you?”

Your brilliant smile was all the answer he needed. Against your lips, he sighed deeply as his fingers curled over your waist, wanting to stay in the moment longer. You seemed to feel the same, your arms wrapping tighter around him as you pressed your body against his.

When you pulled away, he chuckled in awe while you looked away.

He tilted your face up to him, thumb brushing over your cheek. “We should get you your own helmet.”

“I’d like that,” your murmured against his smile.

Masterlist Tinder Keegan Neighbour Keegan Werewolf Keegan

Happy birthday to @operationdeadbolt my first ever Keegan simp friend!! You’re such a cutie bundle of sunshine. I adore the way you love so much, so generously, gushing over the things you like. Talking to you always makes me smile, and you inspire me to keep enjoying life, to be grateful. You gave me the moon and I always think of you when I see it

Thank you for reminding me there is joy to be found everywhere. I hope happiness and resilience are always with you every step of the way. Here’s to many more times we’re going to crush on cod dudes <3

[hannieehaee]

hi can i req ff that “really nice guy to everyone but you” thank youu

them being really nice guy to everyone but you

content: sort of enemies to lovers implied, not angsty at all, implied repressed crush, etc.

wc: 651

a/n: i've never heard this concept before so im assuming its some sort of repressed crush type of thing(?) sorry if i got it wrong</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's petty and stubborn, so this game could last forever to him. he'd want to be very obvious in his niceness towards other people in front of you whilst just completely disrespecting your existence. it'd give him satisfaction when he'd see you fume at him. maybe it was something he needed to externalize to understand why it pleased him so much.

jeonghan -

god you're the biggest target to his pranks and teasing. wont leave you alone ever. he just finds so much entertainment out of making you miserable. unlike with other people where he'll prank them half the time and be a caring angel the other half, you just get a demon out of him 24/7.

joshua -

he's a cocky bastard in your presence. he's the perfect gentleman to everyone else but you never really get to see that side of him. what's worse is that he'll only ever smile at you when he know's he's getting under your skin, and it's always a smile of satisfaction.

jun -

he would not have even meant to be mean to you right off the bat but somehow things ended up like this. so now he's just kind of a dick around you whilst being his easygoing self with everyone else. you're mean in return so it kind of works out.

soonyoung -

he'd slip up sometimes, lost in staring at you in the midst of what was supposed to be some weirdly mean interaction between you. you'd probably know that he liked you beneath all the rudeness, but it'd be fun to play around with him.

wonwoo -

he'd drive you insane with how soft and sweet he is with everyone other than you. you'd feel dejected at first, but at some point you'd treat him exactly the same. this would either lead to sone amazing slowburn between you or someone being killed off the friend group. no in between.

jihoon -

it'd be easy for him to be perceived as mean by you. he didn't even have to try, he was just a little dismissive by nature anyways. he'd never actually be too outwardly mean, but he'd be able to get away with it the most.

seokmin -

it'd be obvious to everyone that he didn't mean it. he could never be mean a day of his life. he'd try very hard to make it seem like he didn't like you, but he'd snap out of it sooner or later, making amends and treating you as nicely as he did everyone else.

mingyu -

he'd be cocky as hell around you, giving you snide remarks left and right. he just loved when you'd fight back, insulting him twice as hard and even attempting to go after his gigantic physique.

minghao -

it'd bug you how obvious he'd make it. he'd give you a dirty look one second and the next he'd be hugging someone as he greeted them. it'd piss you off, but the mere reaction from you would just get him to amp it up even more.

seungkwan -

when you realized this special mean treatment was reserved for you only, a war would start between you. it'd become a battle to see who could be meanest to the other. it'd be painfully obvious to everyone else that you liked each other behind all that meanness.

vernon -

he's just so annoyingly indifferent around you, it'd drive you crazy. he's not even mean, he just ignores you .... except when you're not looking. all his friends would know the truth, but he'd keep the act up in front of you.

chan -

would be weirdly standoffish and a show off in front of you just to piss you off. knows all your pet peeves and ticks and takes advantage of that. classic example of trying to get your attention by being rude and basking in it even if its only ever to tell him he's annoying and a loser.

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 3

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Flirting, still a little awkwardness, blindfold, sensory deprivation, foreplay, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: Your day out with Zach gets more intense at every turn. Notes: Hopefully you're all enjoying the prolonged date as much as we -- and they -- are! (As always, chapter gifs are for the vibes, not to physically describe the characters.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

It isn't hard for anyone who sees you during the rest of the day to spot the dreamy couple out on a date. The older woman who shows you to your table at the restaurant Zach picked out for dinner gives you a wink in agreement that he's an absolute cutie pie and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine and a candle for your table despite none of the others having one set out.

He had chosen a restaurant that was more local than tourist and had been thrilled when there was no formal dress code. Eager to sit down with you after so much walking and talk about more of anything and everything that has been the topics of the day. “So how did you start out singing?” He asks curiously.

“My elementary school had a chorus.” It might be the first time in hours you haven’t been holding hands, but you’re still smiling as you sit side by side with your wine watching the sun set. “I stuck with it because I was a kid and it was fun, then the dance lessons got added, and then as I got older I realized that I also liked theater. It became a combination.”

“So you were a theatre kid.” He nods in understanding. He hadn’t been, but he had been friends with some and understood the passion of performing even if he didn’t have it.

“That’s how I ended up in New York.” You tell him, expression twisting into something like regret. “Just another small town kid convinced they could be the next Broadway star. Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“But you tried.” He reminds you, leaning against your shoulder and wishing he could take away the sadness. “Some people never try.”

“I go between thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, and wondering why I ever bothered at all.” With that offer of support there, you lean against his shoulder in turn and shrug gently. “It is what it is, I guess. But…how did you start cooking?”

Zach sighs softly, knowing that it would eventually come up. “Actually, I just started cooking a few years ago.” He admits.

“You did?” That surprises you enough to turn your head and look at him more fully. “So it’s just at natural talent, then?”

“I guess?” He shrugs slightly. “I got a job working in a kitchen. Saved my life.” He tells you. “Threw myself into it and experimented as much as I could and read everything I could get my hands on.”

“So you stumbled into your calling.” There is something else there, something he doesn’t want to tell you, so you don’t push. “That’s wonderful, though. Some people never find what they’re meant to do in their whole lives.”

“It helps with my anxiety.” He admits with a self deprecating grin. “So I decided that it was the best thing for me. One day I’d like to have a restaurant. One that I can plan every detail, down to free meals for the homeless.”

“I love that.” Without hesitation, the idea is not only a kind one but one you can tell means a great deal to him. “Some places have a system where you can pay for meals for others in advance, too. System like that can be used to pay for extra supplies so no one ever has to be turned away.”

“That would be amazing.” He’s had benefited from that kind of system before, but not often. And he knows how uplifting a good, hot meal can be when you are down.

"You can make it happen." Something in your gut tells you that he can and he will, and even though you have no stake in it, you can't help but feel proud of him for that.

“I’m hoping.” He flashes you a grateful grin. Even your confidence in him sounds so sure when he’s always wondered if he can succeed. “The club on the ship has given me so many ideas.”

"I've been eating your ideas," you remind him with a grin. "And they're fantastic. You're really good, Zach. Any place would be lucky to have you and any team would be lucky to have you lead them."

“What about you?” He asks. “This has to be a stepping stone for you. I’ve already heard from the crew that you might have some head hunters after you.” One of the passengers was apparently connected in the music industry and had been in to the club several nights.

"If I do, that's news to me." Whatever murmurings Zach has heard, you haven't. But you would be lying if you claimed not to be curious. "I don't know, honestly. I think I would rather be a headliner in a little club than wave a rose in a Broadway chorus for the rest of my life. But the chances of either are relatively slim." You take a sip of your wine and offer him a smile, shrugging one shoulder. "In my dreams I'm getting top billing in the biggest musicals and you're running the most popular restaurant in the country. Ultimate New York City power couple."

“That sounds amazing.” Zach chuckles. “Actually, running this style club, I think it would work in New York.” He tells you. “A dinner club.”

"I know it's something that you see in retirement communities in Florida, but I have always loved dinner theater." His laugh is sweet and deep and rolls through you like a wave of joy. "This club is such a great gig for people like us."

“Yes it is, but imagine….” He sighs softly. “Creating a headliner show like you would see in Vegas, right in New York and pairing it with a daily changing menu like we do here.”

"New York would love a show like that." It sounds so doable when he says it. Like a dream you could reach for and pluck out of the sky.

“It would be sold out.” He agrees, flashing a hopeful smile. “One day, maybe if I had the right singer to run the show side of things.”

"I guess you're going to have to get to know some singers then, aren't you?" His bright smile is reflected right back at him, teasing as always but it's because part of you can't dare to dream this big for yourself. Only for him.

“I will.” He nods and shrugs. “Maybe hold auditions or something. Singing for your supper?”

"That's what most of us do." You agree, not wanting your smile to flicker at all even if the memories sting. "Sometimes literally."

Zach catches the change, the dimming of the light in your eyes and he knows that he’s touched on a sensitive topic for you. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “I think I gravitated towards cooking because I knew if I was making food for others, I would not have that gnawing ache of hunger ever again.” He licks his lips. “Food insecurity, the therapist called it.”

Your heart sinks, chest tightening, and you nod as you slip your hand back into his. "I wish I was more surprised to find out that more than a few of us have been there. But a job like ours...with guaranteed housing and meals and a way to save money for months at a time? It makes sense that it would attract people who have had it hard."

Of course you would be understanding. His eyes close as he nods, feeling a little choked up by the compassion in your voice and the understanding in your touch. “Absolutely. And I hate that you’ve had a moments bad luck.” He murmurs. “You deserve so much.”

"So do you." You squeeze his hand gently. "Bad luck doesn't make us bad people."

“Not at all.” His hand slips from yours and his arm wraps around your shoulders protectively. “Now - before we start choking up, what do you want to try?” He wants this date to be nothing but a lovely moment for you and he tries to steer the conversation to more positive thoughts.

Without saying another word about it, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and refocus on the menu in his hands. They have enough tourists in town that the menu from this restaurant has one-sentence item descriptions in English that simply tell non-Greek speakers the main ingredients of each dish. A quick glance around you shows you that everything here seems to be served family style, and you settle in Zach's side again happily.

"How does this sound?" You ask, pointing out the special. Gamopilafo. The menu says, with Arnáki Stamnagathi. "Greek risotto with lamb and vegetables?"

“That sounds amazing.” Zach groans happily and nods. “Do you want to get that and something else?” He doesn’t want you to share with him if you are just trying to make the bill cheaper, he can afford paying for dinner.

"It looks like it's family style? Maybe we can get another side dish to go with it so we can try more?" You shrug slightly, knowing that food was just a topic of some stress for both of you. "Sharing sounds nice. But not if you don't want to."

“I’m not opposed to sharing at all.” He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose to yours. “I’ll share anything with you.”

"Promises, promises." It's too tempting to have him close and not indulge in another kiss, but you keep it short and chaste in case Zach isn't too into public displays of affection. The half dozen or so kisses that you have shared today have been relatively private so you want to respect that for him.

Zach smiles, beams really. “What else do you want, baby?” The term of endearment slips out, but he doesn’t try to take it back or apologize. Feeling like it’s just the natural next step of this amazing day.

While the honest answer is him, that isn't what he's asking so you pull yourself out of the dirty thoughts you've been having on and off all damn day and look back down at the menu. In the top section there is something that lists cheese, fruit, bread, and flavored local olive oil, so you point that out. "Cretan charcuterie plate to start?"

“I think that’s a good idea.” Zach agrees and smiles at you. “We can see if we can come up with our own ideas for a board.”

"We'll have enough menu ideas for three new restaurants if we let our imaginations wander." Which is not a bad thing at all, but it does have both of you grinning when the waitress comes over to take your order.

Zach orders for the both of you, checking in with his eyes to make sure that it’s everything you want and hands the menu over with a pleasant smile for the waitress. Enjoying the knowing glances she shoots between the two of you. “I think that she thinks we are newlyweds or something.” He confesses quietly when she walks away. “What do you think?”

“Maybe.” Don’t be so you, you remind yourself for the hundredth time in your head. “I don’t know how many people come around here being cuddly on a fantastic day-long first date.”

“It has been fantastic, hasn’t it?” He muses, reminding himself that neither one of you has walked away or even been upset today. Not really.

“I think so.” There are clearly more things to talk about in your future, but today has left you optimistic that that future could exist. “I’m glad you do, too.”

“So, what’s your favorite type of wine?” He asks. “With charcuterie? Are you a white wine or sangria girl?”

“I’m a whatever wine you serve me kind of girl,” you tell him with an amused laugh. “But I do love sangria. There are very few things that aren’t made better with a glass of sangria or a margarita.”

“A margarita; huh?” He smirks. “Salt on the rim or sugar?”

“Depends on the flavor.” After all, your palate isn’t nonexistent, it’s just uneducated. “But usually salt.”

“A watermelon margarita is my favorite.” He admits. “Salt and sugar on the rim.”

“Salt and sugar?” That has you raising an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”

“It’s delicious.” He chuckles. “Goes with a hamburger or ribs. Drinks just like water.”

“That sounds incredible.” It sounds absolutely mouthwatering, actually, and you crack a grin. “Maybe I’m just really hungry.”

“Next crew party why don’t we do sliders and margaritas?” He offers. “I think you’d love it.”

“It sounds amazing.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But I would also eat an old sneaker if it came out of your kitchen, so just know I’m always here for your food.”

“So boil shoe leather.” He pretends to make a note and laughs when you shove him playfully.

“You boil shoe leather and I’ll sing scales off key. Our worst work night ever.”

Zach throws his head back and laughs. The deep, belly laugh of a man who is completely convinced that it possible could happen and finds it up-roaringly funny. “You’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” He doesn’t need to know that a musical lyric sprung to mind instantly. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve been thinking it for an hour or more now. But you do hope he knows that the absolute affection shining in your eyes is honest and real.

He hums, not exactly able to take a compliment as well as he can give one. Instead he clinks his wine glass against yours. “To being perfect together.” He offers with a smile.

Neither of you take compliments well, you note with a smile, but drink deeply from your glass and enjoy a private smile that he unknowingly completed the thought of the song lyric in your head. “I know you’re supposed to wait until the end of the date to say it,” you set down your glass, thank the waitress when she brings over the first course, and restart your thought after a few seconds. “But I really think we should do this again.”

Zach’s heart leaps at your comment, happy that you have said that. “Well, of course we should.” He agrees, winking at you as he starts to dip a crusty piece of bread into the seasoned olive oil. “But I was thinking maybe we spend a little more time together on the ship when we can?”

"We could always skip the crew parties now and then to have time to ourselves." Following suit, you dive into the cheese board along with him. The cured olives and soft cheese are calling your name. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

“I mainly go to the crew parties to see you.” Zach confesses with a shy smile, offering you the dipped bread after he’s spread a bit of goat’s cheese on top of it.

"I–" Your eyes drop, your whole face heats, and you clear your throat before offering him an olive that you have stuffed with a pinch of soft sheep's milk cheese. "I go to the crew parties to see you."

Zach snorts and shakes his head. “We are pathetic.” He teases. “Mooning over each other and not even aware of it until Shane makes you take me a drink.”

"He tried to tell me," you admit after trying the bite that Zach made for you. Like everything else he's ever fed you, it's perfect. "I just...didn't really think I had a shot."

“He would always talk about you.” He huffs. “Making that crush I was suffering under nearly unbearable.” He smirks. “I guess he was hoping to push me into making a move.”

“And when you didn’t, he pushed me instead.” Which is a very Shane thing to do, really. He’s always been a little bit too cocky for his own good. “He’s like my big brother. So it makes perfect sense that he would meddle endlessly.”

“He basically adopted me once we became roommates.” Zach agrees. “He’s a good guy with a surprisingly big heart.”

“It took him a while to get there,” you acknowledge, not quite knowing how much of Shane’s story he had shared with Zach. “But now that he has? He’ll be damned if he doesn’t help everyone that he can.”

“Yeah.” Zach nods. “From what he’s told me, he’s completely different than when he was first sent away.”

“He showed me a picture once. Oh how he dresses and everything back then.” Just keeping the topic about appearance is lighthearted. That way you don’t dip too far into past seriousness. “Even if that was the only thing that changed, he really is a completely different guy now.”

“Jet black hair.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Dude has amazing hair now. I’m a little jealous of it.” Shane still has earrings, but he’s no longer sporting the goth edge he had back in his younger years.

“Do you ever think about growing yours out?” Zach still has short-trimmed hair that is probably a cinch to take care of, but he might look great with it longer.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn it long.” He admits, rubbing his hand up the back of his head. “Since high school.” He snorts. “But I’ve not given it a lot of thought, honestly. Why? You think it would look good longer?” He asks, curious about your preferences. Everyone has them, it’s like preferring clean shaven over a beard.

“I caught myself wondering once if your hair was curly when it grows out,” you admit, clearing your throat a little from being flustered. Admitting that you’ve wondered and daydreamed about him is a big step to your mind.

“Yeah?” A slow, pleased grin starts to stretch across his face as he turns back towards you again. “Daydreaming about running your fingers through my hair?”

“Maybe.” The huff in your voice is pure embarrassment, though you’re glad that he seems to like the idea rather than being weirded out by it.

“Then I have to confess something…” he drops his voice down to a whisper like it’s a secret. “I really love when the hairdresser runs her fingers through my hair when cutting it.”

It feels like a far more visceral tease than you’ve been giving him, and you can practically feel how soft his shirt hair is when your eyes flick up to it. “Noted,” you manage to huff out a second later, banishing the mental image of Zach beneath you as you card your fingers through growing curls.

He smirks and winks at you when you manage to look at him again, finding it incredibly empowering to know that you are on the same level as he is. Both of you wanting so much, but being too shy to reach for it. Someone will have to make a move, but right now, he’s enjoying the flirting and bantering.

Neither of you seem to care much that it takes longer to make bites out of your appetizer if you hold hands, enjoying the small show of intimacy more than anything else. You're loathe to give up that connection now that you have it.

Zach enjoys sharing with you. Often making bites for you to try, and he smiles every time you groan in pleasure.

“Just because I have no idea how to cook anything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it,” you insist, and you’re laughing together when your waitress brings out your shared entree. The large and shallow bowl is obviously meant to be shared but is beautifully arranged — vegetables bringing color with the creamy risotto-like grains and tantalizingly seared and roasted lamb.

“Many blessings.” She is smiling at both of you as she puts the food down between you. “Happy marriage to young love.”

“Thank you.” Zach doesn’t correct her, beaming instead and bringing up your hand and kissing the back of it. If they believe that you are newlyweds, who are you to disclaim it?

Seeing him go with the assumption instead of correcting the woman makes your heart swell. There is something deeply soft and intimate about the gesture and you’re sure you must look so deeply entranced by your date that protesting wouldn’t do any good anyway.

“Soulmates?” The older woman asks, looking at the two of you with the pride of a grandmother.

Zach bites his lip, unsure of how to answer that, so he just wings it. “What do you think?” He asks, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

"Very." The woman agrees, and with another proud smile she clasps both of your shoulders and heads off again to the kitchen with the purpose and speed of someone off to share vital gossip.

Zach smiles at you. “Well, I guess that makes us official.” He hums. “What do you think?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Want to be my girlfriend? Or should we jump straight to soulmate and wife?” He asks. “We’ve already gotten approval here.”

"It might be a little dramatic to show back up to the ship married." And yet you're grinning. You're absolutely beaming at him in a way that can't possibly be contained and for the first time today you don't want it to be. "But I love the sound of girlfriend."

“I’m sure we wouldn’t have been the first couple to have done that.” He doesn’t take offense to you ignoring the remark about soulmates. He’s seen you without sleeves enough to know that you don’t have his tattoo. You can’t be his soulmate, but he is drawn to you like he’s never been to another woman. “But girlfriend sounds perfect to me too.”

"I'm not one of those people that swears soulmates are the only possible relationship," you explain, as the two of you rearrange your little table to share your entree comfortably. The waitress had also brought you fresh drinks so the little table is loaded down with tantalizing options. "My parents aren't soulmates and they've been happily married for almost forty years. It's a great thing, but I always thought choosing your person yourself was more important than anything else."

“Interesting.” Zach is impressed and he nods. “I know that soulmates aren’t everything, but my parents were.” He tells you, smiling a little sadly. “They were probably the best relationship I’ve ever seen.”

"We both had good role models for healthy relationships. That's far more rare than it should be, I think." You note the past tense in his words but don't push, instead watching as he carefully serves the meal onto the two smaller plates you were given.

The lamb smells amazing and Zach is already drooling, imagining what he could make. “Are you ready to give me ideas?” He teases as he looks up from finishing plating.

"Dinner ideas?" You raise an eyebrow at him and pick up your fork, feeling bold with the help of the waitress who broke the ice and managed to make you Zach's girlfriend with a touch of cute teasing. "Or dirty ideas?"

“I accept all ideas.” Zach promises, his voice dipping down slightly, turning sensual.

"Fuck." Even just a quiet groan of frustration from you is enough to let him know exactly where you're at. Every single time he kisses you, you're convinced that you're going to soak through your shorts, and you no longer care if he knows it or not.

“I’ve been thinking about something.” Zach starts, forking up a bite of the risotto and trying it with a groan of approval.

"Tell me." There have been a few more serious topics touched on today without delving too deep, but you have faith that whatever it is that's on his mind won't be bad.

“We don’t have to be back on the ship until tomorrow morning.” The club is closed for the night while in port since the majority of the passengers are on shore. “What do you think about not going back tonight?”

"Like...find a little hotel?" Your fork is halfway to your mouth when you meet his eyes, seeing that there is the same spark of desire there as in your own. "That would certainly be more comfortable than using one of our bunks after we kick our roommate out," you agree, letting a grin crawl across your face.

“We don’t have to.” He stresses, not wanting you to feel like he expects to spend the night with you.

"I know." But you shrug with just a touch of guilt. "And if you want to wait that's totally fine. But...I definitely want to."

“I want to.” He is quick to reassure you of that. “I really want to. I just—” he bandied about for the right words. “Didn’t want to come off as pushy.”

"Pushy is normally my problem." you promise him. "The other part of Shane's whole 'be less you' advice was not rolling up to our first date and telling you we would make beautiful children." It's still of a hell of a way to come on strong so you laugh it off, but it's true all the same. "You've been anything but pushy, baby."

“You would have beautiful babies with Shrek.” He snorts, shaking his head. “My genes would have nothing to do with it.”

"Don't count yourself out." The grin on your face slides sideways and the two of you dig into your dinner in earnest. "Those curls of yours on a little baby? Cuties."

He blushes slightly, imagining how a baby with you would look. It’s a fantasy that he never even imagined being able to consider just a few years ago. “Only because of you. And most babies are cuties anyway.”

“They are.” That’s just a fact as far as you’re concerned. The two of you continue to eat for another minute or so before your mind catches up with all the possible consequences of that topic coming up and you almost stutter as you reach for your wine glass. “I’m—I’m on birth control, though,” you point out. Like he might think you’re trying to baby trap him on the first date just because you think babies are cute. “That’s…like I want kids eventually but I’m not crazy about it.”

This is happening. Zach swallows a bite of the deliciously fragrant and juicy lamb so he doesn’t choke. “Good. I mean, I would still want to wear a- birth control shouldn’t just be on you.” He tells you. “I’m clean, but I- it’s always good to- you know, uh, be safe.”

“I’m clean too, and if you feel more comfortable with a condom that’s totally fine, I just—” Who knows if more wine is actually a good idea at this point but you take about gulp out of nerves. “I didn’t want you to think I had any motivation for…you know…tonight, other than really liking you.”

He has to laugh at that, reaching for your hand and winking at you. “You’re focusing on your career. I don’t think that your grand plan is to be knocked up by the chef of the club you headline your first contract out.” He promises.

“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly.” And yet? A part of you is certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that if it happened you could be such a happy little family.

He smirks slightly and reaches over to brush off a tiny bit of sauce on the edge of your mouth. “So we both know where we stand.” He hums. “Let’s just relax and enjoy where our night takes us.”

******

With the sun set and your meal finished, an intimacy has settled over you and Zach as you sip your coffee together and listen to the busy streets of Knossos bustle with tourists and nightlife. Normally you would be part of that. You would be out with friends or searching out a feeling to get lost in — but today has been so thorough in proving that you can simply get lost in Zach that you don’t want to stray. Everything you could possibly want for your night is right here next to you. And it’s a type of calming feeling that you don’t know you’ve ever felt with another person before.

“That was probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Zach rubs his stomach appreciatively and looks over at you. “Lamb on the menu for the club?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You’ll eat anything he cooks anyway. But having it be a special memory between the two of you? That’s worth bragging about. “With those whipped carrots you made yesterday? Oh my god.”

“You liked those?” He grins, loving feedback as much as the next person and if it comes from you it makes it even sweeter. “I’ve been thinking about making it a soufflé and putting a topping on it. Similar to a sweet potato soufflé? What do you think? Too much?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve never had a soufflé before.”

“You’ve never had a sweet potato casserole?” His eyes widen. “You’re shitting me?”

You shrug weakly, yet can’t help but laugh at how strong his reaction is. “My dad hates sweet potatoes,” you explain between giggles. “We basically ate like toddlers in my house forever, because he only liked four or five foods.”

“Wow.” He chuckles. “So I know what I’m making you tomorrow.” He grins. “Roasted chicken with sweet potato soufflé, creamed spinach and a fresh cranberry compote.”

“We just ate.” Sure, your tone is complaining, but the teasing is clear and sparkling in your eyes. “Why do you have to make me hungry all over again?”

Laughing, he leans over slightly to pull his wallet out to pay. Having cash is something of a safety net to him, although he’s proud of the shiny credit card with a low limit as he builds his credit back up. Offers have started coming for pre-approval of credit limits, but he’s resisted getting one so far. He pays this card off every month like clockwork. “I’ll let you sleep it off first.” He promises.

A different woman comes out with your check and a small folded bag. She smiles when she sees Zach ready to pay, and hands you the bag. “Congratulations,” she explains in a thick but clear accent. “From my grandparents. They’re very flattered you chose their restaurant for your honeymoon.”

Zach immediately feels guilty. “No— nothing is necessary.” He promises, shaking his head. “We are happy to be here. The food was amazing.”

"It's just a few cookies," she promises, apparently charmed by the display of manners. "And we're always glad to have kind guests."

“Everyone here has been wonderful.” Zach smiles as he hands over his card. “Now we just need to find a hotel with people as wonderful.”

"You don't have a place to stay already?" The bill is easily and silently settled with the exchange of a few bills between them and the woman points down the beach to a three-story white building on the edge of the beach. "Dite is a beautiful hotel. Small. But very nice. And you will see the perfect sunrise in your room."

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asks, turning towards you. “I think it sounds just about perfect, if they have a room available.”

“Small sounds perfect.” In fact, after the bustle of the ship, it sounds like a small relief. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“I will call for you.” She offers. “Family.”

“That would be wonderful.” You look to Zach for confirmation. “The hotel is my treat. I promise.”

He huffs, frowning slightly at the notion of you paying and there is a grin on the woman’s face as she nods in approval. “I will go call right now and let them know you are coming.” She beams before scampering off.

“It’s okay.” Sensing a bit of hurt pride that you dismiss as typically male, you lean over and kiss Zach’s cheek. “You can buy our breakfast.”

He can’t tell you that it’s because he somehow still looks at someone paying for something – even if it benefits them – as a handout. That is way too deep for this date and probably means he needs to schedule a visit with the VA therapist next time he’s in New York. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He hums.

It only takes a few minutes for the younger waitress to return, and when she does she is smiling broadly. To Zach she hands a slip with the name and address of the hotel. “They’re getting your room ready now,” she tells you both gladly.

“Thank you.” He smiles. “For everything.”

“Our pleasure.” She assures him, and trots off again after saying good night.

He turns towards you and gives you a searching look. “Are you ready?”

"Absolutely." Considering you can see the hotel from here, you don't mind walking. A stroll through the streets of the ancient city, hand in hand with your newly minted boyfriend? It sounds perfect to you.

Zach scoots out of the seat and holds out his hand to you. “Then let’s walk off this amazing dinner.”

The roads and the beach stretch on longer than you anticipate but the walk is welcome. You're most quiet, enjoying each other's company without the need to fill the air with idle conversation. You take in the city around you and the overwhelming number of tourists. The hustle and the bustle is beautiful, but something about the fact that you can be comfortable in the quiet with Zach brings and unexpected extra layer of intimacy to the night.

Walking hand in hand is intimate, serene. He doesn’t feel the need to make excuses or fill the silence, he just enjoys the way the smiles seem to be just for you as a couple, coming from others who pass you on the streets.

The hotel is clean and bright, and the extended family of the folks who owned the restaurant are as sweet as can be when you check in. They’ve put you in a top floor room facing the ocean and promise you it’s their best, and you and Zach take the stairs up after thanking them once more.

“I feel bad.” Zach muses. “They think we are on our honeymoon.”

“First dates can be just as special as honeymoons, right?” You offer as you make your way down the hall to your room. “I checked their rates online and it was the same as what we paid. So they’re not giving us big discounts or anything. If they had, I would have said something.”

“Good.” He feels better about that and his stomach twists in nervous anticipation. You both had stopped in a little shop where he had purchased a small box of condoms. They feel heavy in his pocket.

“Hey.” The leaden heaviness sits between you as you unlock the door to your room and push it open. Before you even make a move to step inside, you settle your hand on Zach’s arm and offer him a soft, reassuring smile. “Just because we want to doesn’t mean we have to tonight, okay? We can decide to just hang out and cuddle and sleep beside each other and it will still be perfect.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks seriously, trying not to look disappointed, because he doesn’t want that to pressure you.

“Not at all.” You’re quick to assure him of that, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “You just seem…nervous? I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”

“Afraid of disappointing you.” He admits with a small huff of amusement at himself as he flashes you a grin. “It’s been a while for me.”

"Then I'm flattered you would choose me to be the one to break that dry spell with." It really is a vote of confidence from him, and you won't take that for granted. Despite the fact that you don't understand how in the hell anyone has ever let him go, you're glad to be the person that is here and ready to see all of the potential he has as a partner.

“I would be fucking crazy not to.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Baby you are gorgeous and kind, and everything I don’t deserve.”

"Hey now." You shake your head as you shut the door behind the two of you, flipping the lock and feeling the shiver of anticipation roll through you. But still, hearing him put himself down is the last thing you're comfortable with and when you turn back to Zach you slide your hands up his arms gently. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, what makes you think you get to?"

“Habit.” He admits, biting his lip and reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “I’m working on it.”

"I'm here to remind you how incredible you are anytime you need." A strong support system means everything, you learned that the hard way. And you're more than happy to be that for Zach.

“Thanks.” There’s a bit gratefulness and quite a bit of amazement in his eyes as he looks at you. “You are absolutely amazing, you know that?” He asks. “You take my breath away.”

Your hands creep up his arms, sliding around his neck so your fingers can sink into his short, soft hair. "I'd be happy to do that for you literally, if you'd like."

“How would you do that?” He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to hear what you have in mind.

The hum that leaves your lips as you press your body against his is full of promise. "I'd start at the top and work my way down, of course," you tell him, bringing Zach down to meet your lips for a searing kiss.

He can’t help but groan, a grown man melting against you, but he’s already weak in the knees from the passion in just this one kiss. The sense of complete rightness that washes over him as his own arms band around you tighter and he starts to give back to you.

None of the kisses you had shared yet today had been allowed to be this deep. You were in public. You were sharing space with other people. And this is so intensely intimate. It would have felt wrong just to let other people see your naked heart out there on your sleeve. But when it is just the two of you locked safely away in the privacy of a hotel room? You would be a puddle at his feet if it weren’t for the uncanny strength of him holding you tight against his chest.

It’s not hard for his body to respond instantly. He’s already lived most of the day in a state of arousal just being around you. But with the length of your body pressed against his and your tongue coaxing his further into your mouth? He is rock hard and aching. Groaning slightly as he turns both of you towards where the bed should be based on the split second examination of the room earlier.

And just like that you feel ignited. The press of his body against yours as he steers you blindly through around the room is an errant spark that seems to catch on every inch of you. With one hand your fingers card and tug in his hair, nails grazing over his scalp. With the other you pull his shoulders to keep him impossibly close — feeling like you’ll forget to breathe if you stop sharing gasps with him between kisses.

You taste like sweet wine and cream. A perfect combination when mixed with something that is just…you. He can’t describe it, but it’s warm and earthy.

The backs of your legs bump against the bed frame, almost toppling you over and making you hang onto Zach all the more tightly, giggling into the kiss. “Oops,” You can’t help but laugh at how deeply uncoordinated it was, even as out of breath as you are. “Weak knees aren’t very stable, apparently.”

“Then we should lay down.” Zach suggests, grinning against your lips and starting to crouch down.

It doesn’t exactly take convincing. Not when every single time he’s kissed you today has turned you a soaking wet, needy mess. The fact that you finally get to do something about it is exhilarating and relieving all at once. “Hell yes,” you agree, nearly hauling him into the bed with you when you try to kiss him and move at the same time.

He laughs when you both nearly topple over, flopping down on your sides in a move that is not nearly as graceful as he had planned in his mind. “Eager?” He asks. Sliding his hand down your side to your ass.

“Oh, absolutely.” You smirk, but shift your leg ever so slightly so your thigh presses against the front of his shorts. “Just as much as you are.”

“Baby, have you looked in the mirror?” Zach groans, twitching under the pressure. “You’re a complete knockout and fucking sweet as pie.”

“As long as you like what you see, the mirror doesn’t matter.” What you see and what he sees looking at you will never be quite the same, so as long as he likes the version of you that he sees, you’re fine with it.

Zach doesn’t say anything else, he just slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours softly.

It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture that you melt deeper into the mattress. For that one moment there are no thoughts at all left in your head. It’s just Zach and the possibilities.

He follows you, body half covering yours as he lets the kiss deepen slightly. Not too much, but he squeezes your ass gently as he grinds into you.

The roll of his hips earns him a moan, and he swallows it up eagerly so you give him another and hitch one leg up to let him get closer.

He presses deeper into you, slotting his hips between yours as you open up and he gasps into your mouth when his hard cock presses against the heat of your core.

The heat in your belly flares hotter, wicking all the way Down your limbs, and you whimper again because you have no prayer of a coherent sentence or even word in that moment. There’s horny and eager then there’s whatever the hell you are as you grind your hips against his to beg for more.

It’s juvenile, but grinding against you over clothes while he kisses you is the height of eroticism right now. He groans into your mouth before breaking away, wanting to taste every inch of your skin.

He trails kisses along your jaw and throat, making your back arch and stealing your breath all over again. While he begins to travel south you tug at his shirt, trying to tear the damn thing off while your whole body aches for him.

Zach smiles against your skin, cutting his eyes up at you playfully. “You’re too impatient” he teases, pulling away. “Think I’ll blindfold you.”

You pout instantly, but the idea is intriguing enough that you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do I get to see you eventually?”

“Eventually.” He smirks, loving that you are going along with his little idea. “That way you can accurately judge how good I am.”

“I can’t judge your skills with my eyes open?” Delighted to have found him not so very vanilla after all, you let the hand you still have in his hair tug in his curls and grin when he moans.

“You might be overwhelmed by my good looks.” He chuckles and shakes his head. One of the things that made him suggest this is his tattoo. He didn’t want to have a ton of questions about it right now. This wasn’t the time for remembering the past, but enjoying the present.

“Is this a ‘hands off’ situation, too? Or can I at least still touch you?” There are plenty of things you’re willing to try out that you already know you enjoy that people might consider out of the ordinary, but the first time with a new partner you want to feel them in every way.

“You can touch me.” He promises. “I’m just feeling a little shy right now.” He jokes playfully, winking at you. “Don’t want you to get too scared.”

“You have nothing you need to be shy about, but I fully respect having a few hang ups. I’ve got plenty, too.” Reluctantly as you are to take your hands off of him, you reach for your belt instead — or rather, the long sash of fabric that you tied through your belt loops today because you thought it looked a little cuter than a standard belt. “Use this.”

“Are you sure?” He takes the fabric from your hands and holds it up to his eyes playfully.

“I trust you.” You trust him somehow inherently. As though it were as simple as trusting yourself. In a way that sticks in your chest and warms through you like hot cocoa in winter.

He watches you for a moment after pulling the scarf down from his face, “Okay.” He agrees. “I just want this to be something we never forget.”

“I can already guarantee I will never forget any part of today,” you promise him, shivering slightly with anticipation as he settles your former belt gently over your eyes.

He ties it firmly, but not too tight. If you need it off, all you need to do is slip it up your forehead or pull it down. The point of this is to be fun, to explore without judgement and he can’t do that if you are uncomfortable. “Hopefully that’s a good thing and it doesn’t go into your ‘worst dates’ catalog.” He jokes before he slides his hands down to the edge of your shirt to push it up your stomach and drop a kiss right above your belly button.

With every small touch now heightened, your skin tingles with the scrap of his calloused fingers and press of the feather-light kiss. “I don’t fuck on the first date unless it’s a really fucking good date.”

“Me either.” Zach smirks against your skin before he decides to nip your side slightly, laughing quietly when you jump and gasp at the grazing of his teeth. Instead of working down, he decides to work up and nuzzles just under the band of your bra.

One hand blindly makes its way to his shoulder again, grasping the thick cords of muscle there and reminding you just how powerful this broad man is that is being so tender and playful with you. At this point it’s Zach’s game — to explore and to pleasure and to discover — and every point of contact between you is a spark catching fire.

It takes just a second to discover that your bra hooks in the front, to Zach's utter delight, making it easy to unbind your breasts and capture a nipple in his mouth before your shirt is even off or your straps slid down your arms.

The heat and pressure of Zach’s mouth feels boiling even on this warm night, sending you gasping and cursing as you grip his shoulder tighter. If you get any wetter your shorts might outright dissolve, but he would probably consider that a bragging right.

Zach groans against your nipple, loving the little arch to your back, pushing your breast to his mouth more. Offering yourself up.

There is no steady rhythm to any of it as Zach works to take you apart piece by piece. He has a method in his madness, surely, but you are breathless and moaning as he reduces you to a human puddle on the bedsheets. While you can’t see him like this you can definitely feel him, and your hands tug at his shirt again to get that luscious skin-on-skin sensation as he starts to travel down your body.

He takes his time, learning the sensitive spots on your body and enjoying every soft sound he pulls out of your mouth. Until he is dragging your shorts down your legs.

It’s about fucking time says the impatient voice in your head as you squirm in the bed and lift your hips to help him move things along. He’s consented to take his shirt off, at least, so that warmth that rolls off of him in waves can seep directly into your bones. You whimper as the cool breeze of exposure hits your overheated cunt, dripping with need and aching for attention.

“Fuck, you look so pretty right now.” Zach groans at the sight of your wet lips, hair trimmed and manicured. You either were hoping that the night would end this way, or you were very meticulous about your grooming. He’s kind of hoping for the former even though he wouldn’t care if you had done anything. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”

“Tease.” You whine, trying to sound huffy but only succeeding in strangling another moan when his breath ghosts over your swollen pussy. Even with his hands caressing your thighs, you’re squirming.

It’s been a long goddamn time since Zach has had a pussy in his face, but he loves the musky scent of your wet sex. Making him twitch and groan as he slowly spreads your lips wide for him to drag his tongue up your folds for that first, tantalizing lick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” With your back arching and your fingers tight in his hair, it’s so easy to lose yourself to one little taste.

He makes a sound of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your clit and comes back for another pass. This time starting lower and letting his tongue tease your entrance before sliding higher.

If you weren’t blindfolded already you might have cum just from the sight of him. His lips and tongue explore while his hands keep you steady, holding you in place so the buck of your hips doesn’t unseat him before he can really get going.

He absorbs your sound, your taste. The very essence of your being, feasted on as he slowly and thoroughly licks through you like a meal he is savoring.

It’s a stunning combination of thorough exploration and eager enthusiasm that has you writing and moaning his name so quickly. You could have had a date yesterday and everything about tonight would already be better. Zach seems somehow to know exactly what you like without asking, reading your signals perfectly air pushing you higher and higher until his name is the only word on your lips.

Zach is completely entranced by the way you respond to his touch, never having a lover he feels so in-sync with. It’s like he’s touched you a million times before rather than just these last few minutes.

The whole world has stopped existing around you. It's just you and Zach and this bed and every new height of pleasure that he keeps building you to. The press of his hands on your hips, the deep push of his tongue, the sharp half-scrape of his teeth near your clit that he's discovered makes you gasp and moan.

“Cum for me baby.” He pulls away to gasp his plea, the need to see you fall apart about to rupture in his veins and make him go mad. His grip tightening on your hips and he dives back into your cunt with the desperation of a man starved that’s reached his oasis.

You don't have to tell me twice, you would say if you could swim through the thick mire of bliss to tease him. Instead, and much more true to the moment, you let out a sobbing moan and beg for just a little bit more to send you over the edge.

He hears the unspoken plea in your whimpers and opens his mouth wider to just devour you. Burying himself into your pussy where his nose is blocked by your mound as he pushes you over the edge and if he died in this moment, he would die blissfully happy.

Your back arches fiercely one more time, lifting your shoulders off the bed as you hit that sharp crest that explodes into your climax. All of your muscles tense and curses spill freely, interspersed with his name and moans entirely without words – until that crest becomes altogether too much, the thread mercifully snaps, and you fall back on the mattress an utterly satisfied puddle.

Zach is slow to pull his mouth away. Savoring the little tremors that race through your thighs and makes your pussy clench against his chin as he laps at your juices one last time before he lifts his head with a groan of satisfaction. “And just think, we’ve only started.” He hums playfully, knowing that the night has just begun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[gothamite-rambler]

The Outlaws helping out Harley

Harley spent the last hour and a half recounting to the Outlaws the harrowing experiences Joker had put her through—his manipulation, the various forms of abuse, how he let her come perilously close to death numerous times, and how he always twisted things to make her feel like it was her fault.

Harley (concluding her story): After finally escapin' and acceptin' that Joker never truly loved me, I thought maybe this whole redemption thing could work. And, well, it has. That’s probably all I want to say about it.

She sighed contentedly, leaning back in her chair. The reaction from the Outlaws was stunned silence mixed with horror. Artemis even covered her mouth, struggling to find the right words.

Roy (speaking first): He threw you out of a window because you explained a joke?

Harley (coolly): Yeah. Fucked up, I know.

Bizarro (disgusted): He didn’t leave you in a vat of acid and not escape? He is good man!

Harley: Tell me about it. He’s dead to me now, stuck up at Arkham and always schemin' his next escape. I heard Slade gave him a serious beatin' a few weeks back. Caramel, I’d say.

Jason (checking his gun’s ammo): You mean karma.

Harley: Oh, right. Sorry. I said that a lot with Joker, too, for the smallest things.

Artemis (struggling to restrain her anger): Yeah, you mentioned the ice cream cake incident. Hey, Harley, we appreciate you opening up. It takes a lot of courage, and I’m glad you feel comfortable here with us.

Harley: No problem! When I started this group therapy, I wanted it to be a safe space for everyone to share what’s been botherin' 'em. I trust all of you. So, who's next?

Artemis sent a quick message to Jason, Roy, and Bizarro, receiving a thumbs-up in reply.

Artemis: We need to put a pause on this. There's something urgent we have to handle—someone awful we’ve dealt with before. We're going to pay him a visit.

Harley (crossing her legs, intrigued): Kill or no kill? I want you to be honest; that’s how my street therapy works.

Roy (checking his phone for the right response): No kill. That would be way too easy. He needs to live and suffer. While we’re gone, can you watch Lian?

Harley (perking up): I can watch her? Yes! We’re goin' to have so much fun together! Sorry for bein' so energetic; I’ve always loved kids. You guys do ya thing, and I’ll hang out with Lian. Then we can get… whatever you want. My treat!

Jason sighed and covered his face at her over enthusiastic response.

Jason (in his head): Oh my God, she's so hurt.

Artemis (nodding in agreement with Jason's reaction): Yeah, I get it.

Bizarro (sincere): Harley? You're... not our friend. I don’t want you to know that. Okay?

Harley (smiling, understanding what he meant): I needed to hear that. Thanks, pals.

Wiping her eyes, Harley got up and headed to Lian’s room to let her know they were going to spend the day together. Meanwhile, Roy prepared for their trip to Arkham.

Roy: We can be there in about thirty minutes.

Artemis: Jason, just checking—are you okay with this?

Jason: I’ll probably stay outside and keep watch because I will kill him if I see him. I want you to shoot him though, the leg at least. I had no idea he did... that much awful shit to her. He just keeps getting worse.

Artemis: It’s like the worst of Zeus mixed with Apollo. Let’s hurry before she catches on—she is not paying for our food either! Hera, I’m going to snap his penis like a twig.

Roy: Fair enough... Not sure how you're going to pull that off, but fair.

Artemis (cracking her knuckles): Oh, I’ll find a way.

The group moved quickly, just as Harley was leaving Lian's room, holding her hand and leading her to the living room.

Harley: So, it’s about dogs in Australia?

Lian: Yeah! It’s really cute, but heads up—Bluey and Bandit are sisters, not brothers. It’ll make sense when we start watching it.

Harley shrugged and sat down on the couch with Lian, pulling up Disney Plus on the television.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 38

Manny awoke slowly and groggily, the lack of sleep already hitting him. But his body decided it was time to be awake, and he couldn't refuse no matter how much he wanted to. At the very least, he could reach over and hold his wonderful wife tightly so they can suffer through this together.

Sadly, for him, Camila was nowhere to be found on this bed, no matter where Manny reached or how far. He peeked his eye open to confirm said suspicions. With a groan, Manny slowly got out of bed and went to search for Camila, already having a suspicion of where to find her.

Groggily, he left their room to make his way to the computer room, where Camila was already sat at the desk, typing away search after search in a mad rush for answers.

"Please tell me you got some sleep," Manny begged.

"Of course I did," Camila said numbly. "I passed out in the woods, remember? You helped carry me in."

"I meant after." Manny made his way over and put his hands on Camila's shoulders.

"Don't think you can use your magic fingers on me right now," Camila told him, slapping his hands away. "I'm too focused on my work."

"And what's your work?"

"Figuring out there's a way we can fake Vee's birth records legally."

"...You're trying to figure out a way to legally break the law?"

"Yes."

"And how's that going?"

"TERRIBLY!" Camila yanked out the keyboard and chucked it at the wall. "I hate this!"

"Camila--"

"No! I hate it!" She got out of her chair and started stomping around the room. "I can't believe that I have to break the law for this to work! The most we had to worry about was whether or not you would survive treatment. At first, when you got better, I thought that was the last of our problems, but then the universe said, 'NOPE! Here's a little girl who needs a home and can't be legally adoopted into yours! HAVE FUN DEALING WITH THAT!'"

"Camila!" Manny grabbed Camila by the shoulders, this time making sure his grip is tight so she can't push him away this time. "Take. A. Breath."

"I can't!" Camila shrieked, which was quickly followed up with a sob. "I can't...It's all too much...Too much to do with no clear idea of how to do it right..."

"I know." Manny pulled her in for a hug, letting Camila cry into his shoulder. "I know..."

"Why...?" Camila sobbed. "Why does it feel like our family is cursed...?"

"It's not cursed."

"You got sick and almost died, we're unable to give a poor girl a home, and there's a witch sleeping on our couch! An actual witch! Seems pretty cursed to me!"

"That isn't a curse. It's...character," Manny tried to explain. "It's what makes us more of a unique family than we already are. And when it's all finally over, which it will be, we'll all look back at this and laugh."

"How can you be so sure?" Camila asked, pulling away just enough to look at his face.

"Because you're freaking out," Manny confessed. "And I'm just trying to help you feel better. Even if it means painting a pleasant picture to get your mind off the insanity. Just for a bit."

"...When you think we'll start laughing at it?"

"I'm guessing...at a barbecue."

"A barbecue?"

"Yeah, I'm teaching Vee how to work the grill, and she's being super grateful for this nice, bonding moment. I tell her, 'That's good. Your mother and I worked very hard to get you something like this.' She'll asked how bad was it, I'll tell her there was a freak out or two, and we'll all just chuckle over how we blew a small issue out of proportion."

"It's not really a small issue."

"Well, right now, it isn't. But in the future, when this is all solved, it'll definitely seem like it. As do most things that feel huge in the moment."

Camila hummed in thought. "By any chance, do you think that witch will be there?"

"Probably," Manny said with a shrug. "Most likely so she can steal a burger or two."

"Over my dead body."

Manny chuckled. "You see? We're laughing already?"

"I...guess we are." Camila breathed out a sigh. "Thank you..."

"Don't mention it. Now, how about you call in work for work today. Even if it means asking someone to cover for you. You clearly need more time to rest."

"Yeah...I do. I'm so tired, it's making me loopy to the point where I swear I'm smelling eggs for...whatever reason."

"Huh..." Manny sniffed the air. "That's weird. So do...I..."

Both his and Camila's eyes widen at a horrible thought. Someone's cooking in their home, and it's neither of them.

In a flash, they both rush out of the room to investigate.

[jessicas-pi]

Also because I'm totally predictable, Kanera in a investigating the existence of paranormal creatures/beings au? But only if it sounds fun, otherwise feel free to skip it! I won't be offended at all

ok SO I am still working on the first ask you sent but I got ran over with the steamroller of inspiration on this one so i'm doing it first! pay no mind to the fact that this is three months late

---

Kanan was, by far, the worst fey-hunter the world had ever seen.

He considered that an accomplishment.

After all, if he could manage to lose every thread, disappear every clue, and snuff out each hint of an otherworldly presence, and people still kept bringing him tips on possible fey... well, that meant his glamour was working, then, didn't it?

The fact was, it had become a dangerous world for Fair Folk like himself. It hadn't always been that way. A thousand Earth-years ago, the wicked fey had been banished from the Winter Court, and the peaceful members of the Unseelie race had flourished. For much of his youth, Kanan had lived with his adopted mother in the Winter Court, making occasional sojourns into the human realm—missions of mercy, lending their extraordinary help to the ordinary humans who most needed it.

Then, the Dark Unseelie returned, and bathed the Winter Court in blood. Kanan had barely escaped with his life. He tried, first, looking for safety in the Summer Court, but unlike the Unseelie—who needed no prompting to act, whether for good or evil—the Seelie operated on the strict principle of tit-for-tat. And the Summer and Winter courts had been feuding since the death of the only king they shared, with plenty of bad blood on either side.

Needless to say, the Seelie were not inclined to foster a pathetic, half-dead Unseelie whelp.

Especially not when it would earn them the wrath of the new Emperor of the Winter Court.

So, Kanan did the only thing he could—he left his Name far behind, and he did his best to lose himself in the indulgences and dissipations the human race had to offer.

For ten years, that was his life.

Then, he met Hera, and everything changed.

She'd pulled him out of a pit of despair he hadn't known he'd fallen into. She brought light and hope back into his miserable existence. She gave him a new life.

She also stubbornly refused to believe in the Fair Folk.

And she was married to one of them!

But nothing could convince her. Not Kanan's inability to tell lies. Not the many encounters with people who looked a little wrong—strange patterns on their skin, or ears that were too pointed, or teeth that were too sharp. Not the neighborhood kid who slept on their couch sometimes, a boy with eyes that were paranormally blue and an instinctual aversion to telling anyone his real name.

Even the fact that said boy vanished into the mists one eerie morning—with no clue left behind except a cryptically-worded note that implied he would be attempting to contact the Fair Folk—left her dubious at best.

"There has to be a rational explanation for this," she insisted, swinging her flashlight back and forth through the trees. "He can't have vanished into thin air. He just can't have. That's not how this works."

"It's exactly how this works," Kanan replied grimly, working hard to keep down his panic as he marched through the woods a pace ahead of her. "Ezra's been taken by the Fair Folk."

Hera frowned. "I don't believe it."

Kanan shook his head at her persistent doubt and proceeded onwards.

The fact was, whether the fey who had taken the kid belonged to the Summer Court or the Winter Court—it didn't matter. Ezra's life could be in danger in either place. Kanan could only hope to find the divide in the misty veil that separated the realms from each other, go in after him, and maybe—maybe—bring him home safely. And that was only if Ezra hadn't eaten anything, accepted any gifts, thanked anyone, or made any binding agreements.

"There!" Hera cried out suddenly, flashing her light at the ground ten feet ahead. "Footprints!"

She broke into a sprint, following their path, and Kanan darted after her. After all, there was a chance they weren't too late—they might be able to get to Ezra before he encountered any fey.

A strange feeling prickled up his spine, the only warning he had before they burst into a small clearing in the woods. He skidded to a stop and snagged Hera's arm, yanking her backwards, before she could go any farther.

"Kanan, what—"

Hera broke off as she saw the thing Kanan had feared most.

The tracks ended abruptly—with no trace of where Ezra could have gone—on the border of a circle of mushrooms.

"So," Kanan said grimly. "Believe me now?"

---

part one || part two || part three

[fuumiku]

Mickbell Tomas it seems I’ve grown quite fond of you you come to me as a long lost friend whom I once picked apples with in papa’s orchard

I headcanon his nose scrunches up and he bites his tongue sometimes when he’s reallyyy laughing… And he’ll snort sometimes of course. Free serotonin. Yk I connected the dots recently that since my twst 2nd top fave is Ruggie it was truly only a matter of time before the Mickbell brainrot got to me. Little "shhh-shh-shhh" laughs please and thank you

[nerdie-faerie]

Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart

[vimbry]

I kinda feel like there's this weird pushback around people asserting their boundaries online sometimes and I don't really know why. if someone says they don't like a single person liking a large amount of their posts in a short time for whatever reason, a dozen others go, "well I like it when people do that, so everyone is welcome to spam like me". if someone says they don't consider being mutuals to necessarily mean being friends, a dozen others go, "reminder that if we've even glanced at each other even once then we're the bestest friends ever and you can talk to me any time!"

it's not like, morally wrong for people to have preferences for how they'd like others to treat them, and it's strange to try and fight to be the most accommodating kindest nicest doormat ever. I guess the dumb discourse around, you know, colour palette/pose theft or whatever, has made people have more knee-jerk reactions to having an actually reasonable boundary.

[nought-shall-go-ill]

My belated piece for the @jilymicrofics January prompts. Day 15: “effort”.

Lily Evans is nine years old when she first considers it must be a lot of effort being her friend. 

She doesn’t have many. Not like Petunia. She’s bright; her teachers like her. And it’s not as if the kids are mean. But it’s hard to befriend the girl who is in and out seeing “specialists”. And she starts to fall behind: doesn’t know who the newest bands are or what the latest hand-clapping games might be. 

And then there’s the “weird stuff”. Her parents tell her not to do it, but it’s the only thing that keeps Esther and Margot around. 

Besides, she loves “the weird stuff” and that doesn’t take any effort at all. 

***

Two months into their friendship, Lily asks Sev if it’s an effort to like her, to be her friend. He scoffs and says something like “being around you is effortless”. To prove his point, he conjures a flower from a single blade of grass, handing it to her. 

She smiles, a big toothy grin that shows off her missing molars. She loves that about their friendship. They don’t have to hold back. They can practise their “weird stuff” — their magic, she learns — without a care in the world. 

But, if she’s honest with herself, there’s some things that do take effort with Sev. His foul temper. His disdain for anything Muggle related. His tendency to (as Petunia says) put her up on a pedestal. 

It’s not much, but it’s a lot of effort for a 10 year old. 

***

Sev says it won’t take much effort at all to make friends at Hogwarts, but Sev is wrong. 

The other girls in Lily’s dorm all seem to know each other. They all support the same quidditch team and fancy all the same pureblood popstars. It takes a lot of effort — a lot of studying hair braiding and potions for perfumes — to keep up with them at all. 

They let her sit with them as an acknowledgment of her efforts. Even offer to paint her nails or “sleekease” her hair from time to time. But they always choose each other first. Always sit with one of the other girls in class and forget to fetch her for dinner. 

Lily would put in a lot less effort if only she could see more of Sev. 

***

When Lily returns from her first year, she discovers it’s a lot of effort to exist back home too. 

Her parents are kind, emphatically so, but they understand so little of what she talks about that she finds herself having to dumb down more and more of what she says. And then there’s the war. She can hardly mention that, can she? Her parents would withdraw her immediately if they knew. And then she’d have to put in a huge amount of effort trying to fit in in a world where she doesn’t below.

Instead, she finds herself editing her words carefully, making sure they understand and stay on the right side of awe. 

It’s a lot of bloody effort, and Petunia still hates her.

***

By third year, Lily discerns that having enemies takes a lot less effort than having friends. 

She’s still editing herself for her dorm mates, trying to fit in as best she can — even when they can’t seem to give her the time of day. Yet she finds it so easy to speak her mind to those pesky boys.

James Potter and Sirius Black: they’re the worst of them. The ones whose pranks border on cruel and who she will happily call out on their loutish hypocrisy. 

It doesn’t take much effort, because in their odd sort of way, they seem to see her as an equal. They hold back when she warns them. Sometimes they even stop all together. It feels easy to interact with them even though they aren’t anything close to friends at all. 

And it feels good, putting in some effort for those who are unable to stand up for themselves. 

***

Eventually, her efforts pay off and Lily finds a group of Muggleborn friends across Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. 

They’re not close friends. They will never make the effort to track down her son or remember her much after the war. But they are her friends, nonetheless, and they share cigarettes with her and let her borrow vinyls over the holidays. 

One girl in particular is fond of her. A small mouse of a girl named Mary from the year below who is a crack hand at Arithmancy and says she fancies Remus Lupin. 

It doesn’t take much to be friends with Mary and the others at all, but then Mary is attacked and it’s just all too much effort again. 

Some of the group stay friends with Lily, but they’re wary at best. They say her friendship with Sev makes them question her values. She can’t say she blames them. 

And just like that she learns it’s even more effort to keep friends than make them. 

***

In the midst of everything, Lily learns that it’s definitely less effort attracting “male friends” in her fifth year of school. 

Of course, they’re not really friends. Or, rather, that’s not what they want to be. Not in the end.

They make the effort to get to know her, of course. Tell her fun jokes and make empty promises about the things they will do. As friends, just friends, they say. 

But then they always lean in for a kiss or give her ultimatums that she can’t morally abide by. 

Some of them refuse to take the hint too. Telling her they fancy other “broads” in one breath and then saying she’s “leading them on” in the next. 

It’s a lot of bloody effort not to hex their bollocks off. A lot.

But it all pales in comparison to the effort she puts in in the final months of her friendship with Sev. 

He’s fouler than ever. Grumpier. Terser. She wants with all her mite to blame the Gryffindor boys. Their teasing has gotten too much. He has every right to be suspicious of their fellow students. 

But that doesn’t excuse the rhetoric she catches when he thinks she’s not listening. It doesn’t excuse the people he’s started to hang around when he’s not with her. 

It wouldn’t take much effort not to be friends with them. The Slytherins are awful, no doubt about it. But not all of them are baby Death Eaters. Not all of them spew hate like it’s graffiti on a bathroom wall. 

But Sev wants the power of their friendship. And it’s taking too much effort to convince her friends otherwise. It’s taking too much effort to convince herself otherwise. Let alone him. He doesn’t listen. Not anymore.

It’s a relief then — in many ways — when it finally happens. When he stops making the effort to have a half facade of decency in front of her. 

It feels like a weight off her shoulders. It feels effortless really not being his friend. And she can’t even muster the effort to miss him much. 

***

Even with Sev gone, making friends doesn’t get any easier. Most of those she has at school leave after OWLs and the ones left behind are fair weather at best. 

Lily tries her best — in defiance of her ex-best friend’s beliefs — to immerse herself in the Muggle world, getting a job at the local pub in the summer before her sixth year. 

But it’s even more effort than being in the Wizarding world. 

Later, when she’s just words in an obituary, Lily will be described as “popular”, “outgoing” but that’s not how she feels at the Cokeworth Arms. She’s awkward and conscious of all her tiny mistakes, and the barmaids clock her as “different” straight away. She knows even less how to talk to Muggles now than she did as a child, and despite her efforts (her religious watches of Top of the Pops and careful inspections of Jackie magazine) the girls don’t even become casual friends. 

She still makes the effort anyway. Tries to crack jokes to make them laugh and talk to them about the goings on in their lives. It’s a lot, and they barely reply, but it’s a lot less effort than what she has to put up with at home. 

***

Being sisters with Petunia is like avoiding spikes while walking on eggshells. They’ve never really gotten on well, at least, not since Sev came into the picture, but Lily, for the sake of her parents (for the sake of the little bit of family she has left) has always tried to be cordial with Petunia, even when her sister is most cruel and belittling towards her. 

It takes effort for Lily to hold her tongue, to not show Petunia a piece of her mind for all the scathing remarks she makes. And sometimes she finds the effort slipping, and she laughs when Petunia does something stupid or makes a mistake. 

Most of the time though, it’s an exhausting tightrope maintaining civility, and it comes as a relief when Petunia announces her decision to move to London when she turns 18. 

It is almost effortless for Lily to see her off.

***

Becoming friends with them, to Lily’s surprise, is effortless. Despite everything she’s ever thought about them, they accept her entirely for who she is — so much so that even she starts to too. 

She can’t remember who she befriends first, or if in a strange sort of way, she befriends them all at the same time. Remus from extended Prefect duties. Peter from gobstones in the Great Hall. Sirius through a shared seat in Transfiguration. And James through their Potions partnership, their shared concern for Remus, the way they’re often the last ones left in the common room.

It is effortless to start hanging out with them, to laugh at their jokes and cry at their heartaches. And their friendship gives her gumption, the confidence to call out the bullshit she sees from the Slytherins and even the hypocrisy of some of her remaining Muggleborn friends.

Of course, they aren’t perfect. They’ve grown from the bullies they were, it’s true — but Sirius still has his vicious streak, James his ego, Remus is cowardice, Peter his fickleness. Yet Lily finds there’s so much effort looking for perfection. And she’s just happy that, after 17 years, she has friendships as easy as this. 

***

What surprises Lily most though, is how effortless it is to fall for him, and then, subsequently how effortless it is to be with him. 

He talks a lot, and she finds that she can too, finally discussing her passions without worrying about any efforts needed to please anyone. 

He teaches her how to ride a broom and she tells him all about the Muggle world, and neither mind the effort it takes for each to learn. 

And when they finally go public — after months of shared moments in secret — it feels effortless to fit by his side, just like it feels effortless to be the head girl to his head boy, two warriors in the war. 

In that final year of school, with James Potter by her side — despite the war on, despite the many people who would wish her dead (not all of them death eaters), despite taking the hardest exams of her school days — life has never been easier. It’s almost effortless.

***

Once she leaves Hogwarts for good, Lily soon learns that effortlessness is short lived. 

James and her have their first “proper” fight a couple of months in. He wants to take a mission that seems near suicidal, and it takes all the effort she can muster not to beg him to stay. He goes, and she cries all evening. He promises he’ll make the effort to understand next time. 

Then there’s all the little things he does when they start living together. The forgetting to shut the toilet lid. The socks all over the hallway. The way he leaves little romantic notes in the biscuit tin and how she is too scientific to write equally eloquent ones in return. It’s a lot of effort living with another person. 

Staying cordial with Petunia is another effort too. One that eventually isn’t even enough anymore. The last time she sees her sister is at the latter’s wedding, during which Petunia's husband takes every opportunity to criticise James and Tuney avoids Lily at every turn. Petunia doesn’t even make the effort to come to her wedding. 

It’s ok. If anything it’s a weight off her mind. Most of Lily’s efforts go on the war anyway. She puts her all into the Order. Facilitating medical care. Concocting potions for the injured. Taking some of the most perilous missions to save her friends and loved ones. And in those tiny moments of victory, the efforts seem worth it. 

And in the midst of war and effort, Lily has the happiest time of her life. The most fulfilling time of her life. Life with James may not be as easy as it was at school, but his cooling presence, the laughter he brings to the room, makes all their efforts to maintain the relationship (and then the marriage) worth it. Life with the Order may not be sunshine and daisies, but the friendships it brings, the bonds it forges and the world they just might bring about makes it worth it.

And then he comes along. And he’s tiny and wonderful and loud and he doesn’t sleep, and he coughs up his milk too often, and it takes so so so much effort to look after him, but he’s worth it all. He’s worth all the effort she can muster. 

So, when they find out about the prophecy, the life destined for him, Lily doesn’t even question the efforts needed to keep him safe. She knows she will do it. He is worth it. Their little family is worth it. 

And though life may be far from perfect, Lily finally learns at 20 years of age that life may always take effort, but that there are some things, some people — Harry, James, the Order, maybe even herself — who are worth all the effort she can give. 

[phagodyke]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[mochasucculent]

One of my 2024 goals has been to animate more so here's some quick thangs

[nomaishuttle]

one thing abt my family is we ARE going to pretend my papaw is an ancient proto-human man whos been alive since the big bang even tho hes objectively not old. Hes like 60