#one of the first respondents was talking about the phones when they entered the burned club

[ppumeonae-bigvibe]

sugar, spice and everything nice!

↖ navigation: ateez masterlist || main masterlist 

pairing: pining! barista wooyoung x gn! customer reader

tags: when i was writing this i was thinking to myself, "hear me out -wooyoung as the local cafe barista who has a massive crush on you, him being so so delusional about it", and then i decided to roll with because i can write about that so please enjoy! <3

summary: wooyoung's a barista, you're a (his) regular and he thinks this is his chance at a cafe slow-burn romance.

word count: 1.6k words

+ 1

"what can i get started for you today?" wooyoung monotonously greets like clockwork, fingers hovered over the touchscreen.

"what would you recommend?" he lifts his eyes to meet your inquisitive ones. pointing to the chalkboard, wooyoung replied flippantly, "these are our cafe's specialties." your eyebrows furrowed, repeating, "i know. what would you recommend?"

he paused in his tracks, much like a dear in headlights, "uh..." his face burns from the focused stare you had pinned on him. unsure, he rambles, "everything's...delicious! my favorite is the latte paired with the apple crumble pie." this time round, wooyoung takes a proper look at you.

you're pretty cute, he observed, hands idly fiddling with the cloth tucked in the pocket of his apron.

"okay. i'll have that." he enters your (his) order, and hands you a receipt, directing you to the pickup counter as he prepares your items.

when he finally hands over your items, you sheepishly apologized, "sorry if i had troubled you earlier. i didn't know what to get since it is my first time here." wooyoung found it difficult to be mad, "oh...it's no problem at all. i can assure you that everything here is good."

"thanks so much, uhm...wooyoung." you glanced down at his nametag and then back up to express your gratitude. as you picked up your items, he nods and responds out of habit, "come by again!"

+ 2

wooyoung leans his weight against the counter, phone in his hand as he goes on about his day, "—yeah and i was saying...oh! wait."

his voice dies down when he hears the bell ring, thinking it was another customer. but as soon as his gaze lands on you, a confident smile replaces the nonchalant expression he once had.

"catch you in a bit, my favorite person is here." he ends the call, not bothering to hear his friend's complaint. you were one of his frequent customers, and also someone he's taken interest in. a little bit too much interest in though, ever since his first chance meeting with you. you have been coming in at least once or twice a week, and each time his heart soars when you're around.

"hey sweetheart, anything i can get for ya?" he props his head up with his hand, eyes never leaving you as you scrutinize the chalkboard menu, "sweetheart...is that a new nickname? i bet you call everyone sweetheart, right wooyoung?"

"nah, only for you." he assures, and he jumps when he sees the sides of your mouth twitch upwards—no doubt holding back a grin. you rattle off your order, something he also knew by heart. this special order wasn't written on the menu, but something he had went out of his way to make for you, lying about a "secret" menu that only a few people (read: only you) knew.

"do you want anything else to go with that order? for you, it's on the house!" he gestured to the pastries at the display shelf and you teased, "are you sure about that? you're going to make a loss at this rate."

true, he was always offering to gift you a free pastry with your drink. not that it mattered because he'd gladly cover the cost with his salary just to see you smile.

"of course not. there wasn't much business today." a lie.

"and also, who else is going to taste my efforts?" partly the truth.

"i want to give one to you to cheer you on." absolute truth.

you relented, shaking your head, "okay, okay. you can pick one for me." he nearly swoons at the sight of you beaming at him, "of course." wooyoung prepares your order—making small talk with you—his silly smile never once disappeared in your presence.

"here you go." he hands them over to you, nearly dropping the items when your fingers brushed over his to collect your order. "thanks a bunch! i'll get going."

"bye...see you again!" he precariously leans over the counter, neck craning as you walked off. he sighs dreamily before having a "reality check" when another customer not-so-subtly coughs a distance away from him.

"sorry, what can i get for you today?"

+ 3

wooyoung checks his appearance against the reflection of the fridge by the back of the store, donning his apron on before stepping out. almost immediately, butterflies erupted in his chest when he spots you typing away on your laptop.

"hey." he smoothly greets you. you were seated at your usual space near the counter, a cup of tea beside you.

seems like today was a "no-procrastination day", judging from how your teapot was completely close to empty.

you raised your eyes to meet his, "hello! did you just start work?" he excitedly nods, then schools his expression not a second later, "yeah. need a refill?" he juts out his chin and you sighed, "yeah. your colleague had boiled the water a couple of times for me already."

so you've been here for a while now, wooyoung chews the inside of his cheeks to hide a triumphant smile. moving automatically, he grabs the hot kettle, "don't worry, i'll reheat your teabag as many times as you request me to." you beamed at him, "that would be nice."

"anything for you."

the next few hours passed by in a flash, yet the constant reminder that you were still sat there a great encouragement for wooyoung as he pushes through the dinner rush. as the last bit of the dinner crowd titters away, wooyoung makes his way to stand behind the counter to rest, standing opposite you. the empty dinner plate on your left made him smile knowing you were being fed well by him.

"how's it going?"

you hummed, "not bad! i think i'll go home and rest for a bit before i pull an all-nighter to complete this manuscript." wooyoung makes a face, "again?" you hid your chuckles behind your palm, "what do you mean 'again'? i swear i don't stay up late often."

"everytime you come here and stay here for nearly the whole day, you're most definitely pulling an all-nighter." he holds up a finger, as if to prove a point. "and secondly, you're drinking tea. because if you chugged coffee the whole day you'd be holed up in the toilet instead of doing your work." flabbergast at his statement, you reached over to playfully whack him, "wooyoung! how could you!"

he laughs, shoulders shaking and hands clutched over his stomach, "it's the truth!" you pouted, "you're too much...you didn't have to announce it to the world!"

wooyoung easily balances your plate and teapot on one hand, "i'm gonna be closing up soon, in about 30 minutes. will you be...making a move?"

your eyes comically widened, "it's that late?" a flick of your wrist shows the time on your watch, an amused wooyoung watching you.

"yeah, it is. you might as well wait till i finish clearing up and i'll send you to a bus stop or subway station," he offered, hoping he didn't sound too eager. "oh! that would be nice of you actually. is it alright?" you clasped your hands in front of you, a sparkle lighting up your eyes.

"of course."

+ 4

"are you closing?"

wooyoung had his back facing the door and he holds back a groan from the question. of course we're closing, he grumbles, the neon sign is already switched off and...

his thoughts trailed off when he spots you sheepishly standing by the door.

"what are you doing here this late?" wooyoung blurts out and you rubbed your neck nervously, "i was...craving an ice americano and also a..."

"let me guess. an apple crumble pie?" he teases, pretending to think hard about it. "exactly that." you levelled your gaze to meet his, eyes twinkling. but not a moment later you shook your head, "but if you're closing i'll go—"

"how about i see what i can do for you?" the moment the sparkle in your eyes seemed to light up brighter, wooyoung thinks he'd better remember this moment for the rest of his life. he ushers you in, "you know, i realized you haven't been passing by here lately. i'm going to have to extend my working hours if you only appear at this time of the day. it's not good for my business."

"hey...! i've been busy, okay?" you huffed and wooyoung just laughs, "i'm kidding. business has been great too, since it's the holiday season more people have been coming in to try our limited time menu." he bustles around the counters, making your request all while you peered over to state at him.

you mused, "you don't sound happy about this good news." he smirked, playful tone lacing his words, "clearly, because i haven't been seeing you around." the oven dings behind him and he pulls out the tray.

"that doesn't look like an apple crumble." setting down the tray before you, he slides your drink up next to it as your confusion settled in.

"ice americano this late isn't good for your stomach. and we also ran out of apple pies so, i made you hot cocoa and reheated some of the milk bread i made just now."

a second passed and wooyoung was afraid he did something wrong. "is...it not to your liking? i should have—" "—no! no, i'm just touched that you'd go out of your way to do something like that."

wooyoung's triumphant smile stretched wide on his face, "then, please enjoy while i clean up the store."

in comfortable silence, you had your supper while he tidied up like clockwork: mopping the floors, putting away utensils, straightening tables and chairs and not to forget, glancing at you as you happily ate.

"how much is this?" you fished out your wallet and wooyoung was quick to grab it from you, "nuh uh. this one's on me. you don't owe me anything." arms coming to cross in front of you, you pouted, "fine, then how can i repay you?"

"let's go on a date. you can pay me back then."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[owl127]

support (M)

(Ao3)

Dawn had broken when Clarke woke up from a dreamless sleep. She had passed out before 8 p.m., exhausted, complaining about her ankle to an empty house and munching on doritos—though she would deny that last part if Lexa asked. Lexa was all about organic this and organic that in the past months. For the baby, she would justify stealing the perfectly fine hamburger from Clarke’s hand. Clarke yawned, feeling uncomfortable, and shuffled her way to the bathroom before her bladder got the best of her. Their daughter probably had Lexa’s affinity for sports, because she was for sure playing soccer with Clarke’s bladder.

She didn’t hear it at first, not with the sound of flushing and washing her hands. It was too early for any noises from neighbors, and the birds seemed to be having a lazy morning. But something unnamed tugged at her heart, something heavy and familiar, and Clarke made her way downstairs in her pajamas. Halfway down, she heard it clearly.

"Lexa?" she asked, and the muffled sobs stopped. At first, Clarke was angry. It wouldn’t be the first time Lexa had gone for drinks with her friends from the station and overdone it, trying to hide her drunkenness in the downstairs bathroom before filling their bedroom with the smell of alcohol. Clarke wobbled—as much as she would like to argue she simply walked—to the bathroom, expecting to find a drunk Lexa passed out in the shower.

"Lexa?" 

The sobbing stopped with both of Lexa’s hands on her mouth. She smelled like smoke, and Clarke almost gagged at the intensity of it. Lexa always showered after her shifts, especially if they had a call. But her hair was wet, so maybe she did shower, and the smell lingered. Clarke couldn’t kneel next to her, so she simply sat on the closed toilet, one hand on Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa didn’t meet her eyes.

"Honey?" Clarke tried, her heart heavier as she caught sight of bloodshot eyes. "Lexa, what happened?" She had never seen Lexa cry like this—not the body-wracking sobs that she was desperately trying to hide. "Lexa, please talk to me," Clarke asked, her own voice raw and tears pricking at her eyes. Lexa shook her head, and it only took Clarke the nearest suggestion of a hug as Lexa threw herself at her, sobbing on her shoulders.

Endless scenarios crossed Clarke’s mind: Someone had died on their call. Anya, Gus, Lincoln, someone dear to Lexa, or maybe someone was in the hospital right now—but that didn’t make sense. Lexa would be in the hospital and not breaking down on their bathroom floor. Maybe something happened to Indra? Clarke couldn’t imagine anything less than death to surrender Lexa to her knees like that.

"I’m sorry," Lexa said, her voice all scattered gravel. She coughed, turning her head away from Clarke. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay, babe." Clarke was already crying—damn her hormones—but seeing her wrecked wife made her feel things. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Lexa said, and immediately started crying again. "I just… I couldn’t…"

"It’s alright." Clarke pulled her back for another long hug, holding her wife as she sobbed. "Was there a call?" Lexa nodded, her damp tresses cold against Clarke’s neck.

Lexa had been through bad calls before. She had pulled corpses from burning houses and mangled bodies from crashed cars; what could have happened to reduce her to this sobbing mess?

Clarke gasped at the touch on her belly. Lexa’s shaking hands held firm but delicately against the bump there, which had grown steadily in the last trimester.

So that was the change.

Clarke sniffled. "Honey, do you want to talk about it?"

Lexa shook her head again, her fingers light and determined over Clarke’s belly. Clarke held her and let her cry, and they watched the sun rise from the small bathroom window. Clarke’s fingers played with Lexa’s hair, feeling it dry out as she touched it. When Clarke’s back started to protest, Lexa croaked in a tired voice, "It was a college party."

Clarke nodded, never stopping the caress on Lexa’s nape, her back, and her neck. Clarke touched any skin she could reach.

"Some idiot used a firework inside a club hosting a college party." Clarke’s heart accelerated. That must have made national news; she was passed out before it broke last night. "It spread too fast. We had to wait to get inside." Lexa swallowed a sob, and Clarke held her tighter. "There was only one exit. Hundreds of kids didn’t make it and choked on the smoke." Clarke’s throat was dry as she tried to swallow. "Some, some of them"—Lexa took a deep breath—"a lot of them thought there was an exit in the bathroom. There wasn’t. 

NThe bodies, they… they piled up. There were dozens in the bathroom."

Shit. Clarke needed some air.

"And…" Lexa cleared her throat, not starting at Clarke; not for a single moment did she look at her. "And when we could enter; their phones. Clarke." She finally met Clarke’s eyes, deep green blurred with red and pain. "Their phones wouldn't stop ringing. All their phones, in all those bodies, ringing, ringing…" Lexa bit her lip and shook her head. "There was a girl holding her phone and… and it had 117 missed calls from ‘Mom’." Clarke was sobbing along with Lexa, her arms shaking as she held her wife. God, Clarke needed to be Lexa’s support, but she also had her limit. 

Lexa had seen death countless times. But this had been the first time she had seen it as a mother. 

They cried in the bathroom together, amid the scent of putrified smoke and leftover pain. 

Clarke held her strong, heroic, and brave wife as she sobbed into her neck, touching her stomach to make a connection with their unborn daughter. 

That morning, the sun rose silently.  

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt2) | Leah Williamson

Leah, among other things, can be a bit of a distraction for your game… but just a bit. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: a short one for today,, thanks for all the love in the pt1 :( pt1 - pt3 my masterlist

It had been three days since Leah had received the Instagram notification. Every morning, she took a moment to think about whether it was a good idea to text you or not. So far, you had liked her latest post, and Leah was hoping to return the gesture, but unfortunately for her you hadn't posted anything new since your picture holding the Roland Garros trophy. Not even a story she could react to. Nothing. 

“So... how's it going?” her mother asked that afternoon. Leah had gone to visit her, finding herself with more free time now that the season had ended, not much to do aside from the occasional interview and events, nothing too physically demanding for her.

“Well, I have an interview with the BBC in a couple of days, so that's keeping me busy” Leah said, pacing around the dining room, her eyes wandering over the photographs on one of her mother’s many shelves.

“I'm not talking about work. I'm talking about your girl!” Amanda shouted from the kitchen.

"Stop calling her that. I still can't believe you embarrassed me in front of her” Leah retorted. Just then, something over the fireplace caught her attention. 

Right in the center, where her picture holding up the Euro usually was, now stood a small transparent box. Inside was your autographed tennis ball. Leah picked up the box and couldn't help but smile at the sight of your signature, along with a smiley face.

“Hey, leave that there” her mother scolded as she entered the dining room with the two plates of food for dinner. 

“This should be mine, I'm her fan,” Leah said, fiddling with the box in her hand.

“Did you help Y/N win her trophy?” her mother retorted.

“Well, I got you there in the first place” Leah defended herself, placing the box back in its spot.

"Too bad that gift was given to me. If you want a ball, ask her for it." Amanda teased.

“You're my mother. You should be nicer to me.” Leah countered, taking a seat. 

"Yes, I am your mother, but I didn't raise a coward," Amanda said with a teasing smile. “Now eat”

Leah bit her lip nervously as she stared at her phone screen. The chat with you was open, and a picture of the autographed ball at her mother’s house was ready to be sent.

God, why was she so nervous? She had captained the England women's team to their first major title in history, yet now she was afraid to send a simple message.

“Screw it,” she muttered, hitting send.

“My mom won't let me touch the ball you gave her.”

Leah panicked as soon as the text was sent and quickly locked her phone. She glanced at her watch, it was past eleven o’clock at night, and she didn’t even know where in the world you were right now. The best thing to do was to go to bed and try not to think about the message. Maybe, if she was lucky, you would read it and respond in the morning. 

Within half an hour Leah was in bed, with her ipad in her lap, checking emails. Suddenly, her phone vibrated.

She had tossed it onto the bed ten minutes ago, and now it was lost somewhere among the sheets and the pile of pillows she had. She rummaged around looking for the phone, but couldn't find it, that was until her foot got tangled in the sheets, causing her to tumble to the floor. That's when she saw her phone, on the edge of the bed, covered by a pillow.

Without bothering to get up from the floor, she grabbed the phone and smiled when she saw the notification: a message from you.

“Aww, I seriously thought she would give it to you.”

Would it be too intense if she responded immediately? 

Leah decided to go for it. “My mother is not that kind of mother,” she typed and sent the message, then relaxed as she saw you had immediately read it. The bubble with three dots appeared instantly, confirming you wanted to keep the conversation going.

"Ah, my mother is similar. I understand," you replied.

Leah was taken by surprise when the next message popped up.

“What are you doing at this hour?”

She realized she was still sprawled on the floor of her room. She got up, climbed back into bed, and opened the first streaming app she saw on her ipad, choosing an old movie she had been trying to watch for days. She took a picture, making sure to show only the ipad and part of the bed, then sent it to you.

“Watching something.”

Leah shook her head,feeling like a teenager sending things like that. It reminded her of what she used to do years ago. But she wanted to sound interesting to you. What would you think of her if you knew she was actually just checking emails and watching old football matches, trying to figure out if she could play like she used to?

"What about you? I don't even know what time zone you're in."

“I’m in Italy, just an hour difference :)”

“Italy?”

"Resting. Back to my workouts tomorrow."

"Oh, right. What’s next for you now? Berlin?"

This time Leah was surprised to see that your response was not a text, but a voice message. She hesitated before playing it, then hit the button and heard your voice.

“Wow look at you, you really are a fan,” you said in a teasing tone. Leah blushed immediately. She couldn't send you a voice message because she was sure she would get too nervous. Leah Williamson, the same woman who had spoken at the UN months ago, now felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

She took a deep breath and replied:

“Of course I am. I’ve watched almost all your matches since Wimbledon last year. I told you I was your fan when I met you. My mother made sure to emphasize that too.”

“I just thought it was to flatter me if I'm being honest... Not that I'm that self-centered, but it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”

Leah could tell you were walking during the last voice message; there was background noise. You obviously weren't in a room.

“Where are you at this hour?”

The next thing Leah received was a photo of a couple of tennis courts. From the angle and the small table with a glass of water, she deduced that you were sitting a few feet away from the courts.

“I thought you were training from tomorrow?”

"On grass. The grass court season starts soon. Now I was just playing with my racket.” You explained in the message. Leah didn't have a chance to respond before receiving another voice message from you. "But it's getting late now, and I need to rest up for tomorrow's training session. Say hi to your mom for me please." 

"Of course, have a good rest," Leah replied, understanding the importance of proper rest for training sessions, especially during the season.

Days had flown by since that chat, and Leah was getting antsy. She was really hoping you'd reach out first this time, just to ease her mind that she wasn't bothering you. But as she sat at Alex's place,  enjoying a glass of wine over dinner before going out, she couldn't help but feel a bit silly constantly checking her phone for a message that never came.

As far as Leah knew you had already arrived in Berlin for the upcoming Open, not because you told her, but because she'd seen some snapshots of you during training sessions thanks to some tennis websites she followed.

Leah didn't know it, but your mind was fully consumed by the upcoming tournament with Wimbledon just around the corner. It was the topic of discussion throughout your entire day: grass, Berlin, Wimbledon, Leah no, wait, focus on that WTA ranking.

"Ready?" Lucas, your coach, asked, checking his watch. It was the last day before the tournament started.

"Huh?" You looked up, putting your phone down.

Lucas gave you a concerned look. "You okay? You've seemed kinda spaced out for a few days now."

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Is something up? You look kinda off," Lucas took a seat next to you, his concern evident in his expression. “You're not hiding some injury from me?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine, just tired” you lied, standing up and glancing at your phone once more. Lucas caught your glance.

"Don't tell me there's a girl," he said, rubbing his temples.

"What?! No! Of course not!"

"God, I knew it. It's that Italian girl, isn't it? I saw you chatting with her at the hotel."

"That was a waitress, Lucas. I'm serious, there's no one," you said, grabbing your bag from the floor. "I've got my priorities straight."

"Good. What you have to worry about now is Berlin. Remember, Wimbledon's around the corner" said Lucas, standing up and grabbing his bag. "If you want, after that tournament, you can sleep with whoever you want, Italian or not. But for now, you must keep your eyes on the grass. Okay?"

"Okay"

The next morning, as you sat down for breakfast, Leah's face caught your eye while scrolling through your Instagram feed. She had posted some photos, seemingly from a night out. 

It struck you how you hadn't come across Leah until the Roland Garros final; she seemed like an incredible person. You had even done a quick Google search when you first started following her on Instagram, impressed by her contributions to her sport back home.

It wasn't your fault that your family never showed much interest in football, so it wasn't surprising that you couldn't recognize any of the people beside Leah in those pictures. In the final photo, Leah was wearing a top that exposed her abdomen, wow, with a hand from someone you didn't recognize resting on her waist.

“Hmm?” You quickly tapped on the tag on the other woman's body. Her Instagram profile revealed that she was a football player too. Leah was in many of her photos, often seen next to her or hugging her. 

“Hey, Y/N” Lucas intervened, taking the phone from your hand and turning off the screen. “I've been trying to get your attention for minutes, your match starts in an hour.”

You nodded your head. Lucas didn't seem to notice the tension in your jaw, you tended to be serious before matches, so it wasn't unusual.

As you warmed up on the court, your mind couldn't shake the thoughts about Leah.

"Who was that other woman?"

"It doesn't matter. Leah is just a fan, maybe a friend, not someone you're going to marry."

"Exactly. Whether she has a partner or not shouldn't affect anything."

"But I couldn't help but find her cute."

"She's undeniably beautiful."

"Focus on Wimbledon."

Despite the game starting, your mind continued its internal debate.

Your opponent secured the first game at 40-0. Now it was your turn to serve. Just as you tossed the ball into the air, a nagging thought intruded again.

“Does she have a girlfriend?”

The ball hit the net. An irritated sigh escaped your mouth, knowing you had to make this serve count, aiming to avoid a double fault.

Shaking off the distracting thought, you prepared for another attempt. Gazing ahead, you focused on your opponent's movements, determined to regain control of the match.

"Her mother played matchmaker when we met," you mumbled to yourself, the distraction causing you to miss the hit once more. This time, it sailed over the net but landed wide, giving your opponent an unexpected point.

Even your opponent seemed surprised by the unforced error you just made, giving her a point without any effort on her part.

"I need to find out who she is," you muttered under your breath, feeling the pressure with each lost point.

Your serve had enough power behind it this time, but your return lacked precision, sending the ball flying into the stands. As the ball sailed out, your opponent glanced at you in disbelief, clearly surprised by the unforced error you had just made.

"Wälti, that was her name," you murmured to yourself, the name lingering in your mind like a persistent echo. 

With the score now at 40-15, your opponent was on the verge of breaking your serve.

You needed to get rid of the doubt, but you couldn't leave the game, you weren't that crazy. But you could do something else, win the game in record time. Focus on winning to satisfy your curiosity and anxiety. You adjusted the gold chain that hung around your neck and took a deep breath. You had to hurry.

The match ended 0-2, with you taking the sets at 2-6 and 1-6. Your best result on grass.

"Where'd that come from?" Lucas asked once you were alone. "Since when is your backhand so killer on grass?" he wondered. "I've never seen you pull off moves like that on grass."

"Just got inspired," you said, tossing your visor aside and slumping into the chair. "Can I have my phone now?" Lucas hadn't given it back to you yet, not as a punishment, but because you'd asked him to keep it. 

Lucas handed it over, eyeing you. "You're keeping something from me," he noted, scratching his beard. "But if it's what's making you play like a champ, I'm all for it," he said, grinning.

You brushed off your coach's voice, fingers darting to your Instagram. With a few taps, you found Leah's chat, eager to shoot her a message.

"Heyyy! How was your night?" you typed, your leg bouncing with impatience. Though you needed to hit the shower, the excitement of hearing from Leah consumed you.

"Hope you're not feeling too rough today; starting the week hungover would be nasty," you added, fingers hovering over the screen in anticipation. But as the moments passed, there was still no response from Leah, leaving you hanging in suspense.

A cold shower seemed like the perfect remedy to clear your mind, and thankfully, it did the trick. Lucas egging you on for extra drills, especially to fine-tune your backhand, also helped to distract you.

By dinner, any hope of hearing back from Leah had evaporated. You were so disinterested that you didn't even bother bringing your phone along. It wasn't until nearly ten, when you reached for your phone to set the alarm, that you noticed Leah's message—a voice message.

"Hey, fancy hearing from you!" Leah's voice chimed in, carrying that distinctive lilt that hinted at a potential afternoon spent dozing off. You could practically imagine her, wrapped up in blankets, nursing a post-party hangover. "Yeah, went out with some friends. We were celebrating the end of my mate's long-distance thing. Was fun, until they started getting all soppy, reminding me I'm the last single one in the group."

A groan slipped out before she continued, "I may have had a bit too much to drink," she confessed with a sheepish chuckle.

Those messages had been sent around 4 pm, while you were deep into your training session.

The rest of the voice messages were sent after 7 pm.

"What the heck was up with your game today?!" came the first, followed by a chuckle "Just watched the highlights of your match. Seriously, what did that poor player do to deserve such a thrashing from you? She ain't an ex, is she?"

Then, a last voice message added, "Sorry if that sounded a bit too nosy. Just curious, you know?"

You chuckled, enjoying the sound of Leah's accent. It had this magical way of making you grin like an idiot, even when you were just staring at your phone screen.

But now, what really mattered was Leah's relationship status, she was single, confirmed without even having to pry. Knowing she was single now seemed like a game-changer. Suddenly, that whole thing with Wälti didn't matter anymore, Leah's path was crystal clear. Not that you were planning to make any moves to win her over; that was definitely not on your agenda, at least not for now.

“Remember, Wimbledon”

Oh… the other thing that hit you: Leah truly proved herself to be your fan. It blew your mind that someone recovering from a hangover would bother to watch highlights of your match just to chat about it later. She was the first person to do that, apart from your coach or family.

"Hey, I'm free tomorrow, at least from the matches. What do you think if I call you tomorrow?" you typed, feeling a rush of anticipation mingled with nerves as you crawled into bed.

Before closing your eyes, you couldn't resist checking your phone one last time. And there it was, Leah's response: "Sure, call me anytime tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you."

With a grin stretching across your face, you drifted into the most peaceful sleep you've had in ages, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement settling deep within you.

[arysbruv]

Can we be friends?

You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.

Pairings: suguru geto x f!reader

Warnings and whatnots: fake friendship, Geto still being mean. Geto low-key being jealous but denying it because it’s geto. Use of the term monkey (by geto ofc) Not proofread! Maybe will make a part 3? Geto being oblivious to his feelings.

Chapter 1: Are we still friends? <;- read first! Chapter 2: [currently reading] Chapter 3: sorry, not sorry Chapter 4: green looks good on you. Chapter 5: Runaway Chapter 6: Burn.

Your eyes widen at the text you had received last night. After the whole ordeal yesterday, you had quickly collapsed on your bed and fell asleep, not bothering to change your clothes or check your phone.

What a big mistake.

Your fingers hover over the screen as you read the text message over and over again. It was real. You weren’t dreaming.

You needed to respond.

y/n : hii, sorry I didn’t see your message last night.

y/n : yeah I’m free today at like 2-3 pm. why?

You breath out a sigh, as you put your phone down, thoughts racing through your head faster than an F1 car.

The sound of your notification rings through the room, causing you to quickly seize your phone.

Suguru ���� : meet me at the cafe at 2:30.

Suguru 💔 : I need to talk to you about something.

You weren’t sure what to do. You quickly answer, agreeing. You flop onto your bed, eyes staring onto the ceiling on top of you. Confusion filling you.

What the hell did he want from you?

Insufferable. Annoying. Wasn’t that what he called you? He didn’t want to be near you anymore right? Then, why was he randomly messaging you to meet him.

It all confused you. You punch your bed, frustrated. You didn’t know what to do. Did you really want to meet him again, alone? He said meet him, not him and his friends, meaning he would be alone.

You grimace and grumble, why does he have to be so damn confusing! You sit up, rereading the message again.

2:30 in the afternoon.

You sigh, standing up, stretching your body.

Annoyance replaces the frustration as you realise what you had just agreed to.

What in the world did you get yourself into?

~

You enter the cafe, hands fidgeting on your bag. You scout out the long black-haired man.

You eventually spot him near the corner, reading a book. Blood rushes to your face as you observe him. You curse your body for having a reaction to seeing him like that. Yet, it made sense.

He looked well-groomed today. His hair tied back into a man bun neatly, one strand freed and covering part of his face. He was entranced by the book, not bothering to look up at you, who was staring at him from the door.

“It’s rude to stare.” He suddenly voices out, pulling you out of your catatonic state. You look away, embarrassed for getting caught staring.

Right. He was still an asshole.

He looks up, closing his book and putting it on the coffee table in front of him. He gestures for you to sit in front of him, which you hesitantly agree to. Like normal, his eyes carried no emotion. It was impossible to read him and understand what was going in that head of his.

“What’d you call me here for?” You say, taking a seat in front of him. Your tone civil as you try your hardest to hide your still prominent feelings for him.

He gives you a smirk. Ugh! Was he trying to lead you on?

“I think we both know that we aren’t exactly on the best of terms.” He says, leaning in front. “So, I want to fix that and befriend you again.”

Huh.

He wanted to befriend you… again. Did you hear that right?

You stare dumbfounded at him. Was he being serious.?You purse your lips, looking at him uncertainly.

“Why do you randomly want to be friends with me again?” You say quietly, unsure of what he was getting at. Surely, there was something that he needed.

“Look, I uh… I think it would be better for us to be friends again. You’re a good girl, and I think that you’re a nice friend. Thus, I don’t want to have to lose you because I made a mistake with my words months ago.” He says. “Besides, Shoko needs another female friend.”

You continue to stare at him. What he said made sense, and this was definitely an optimal chance to get back into the friend group, but something felt off.

“But… You don’t like me in general.” You state plainly, tilting your head at the man in front of you.

His eyes widen as he hears you say that, his mouth opens slightly, before he quickly closes it. To be completely honest, he never thought you would be so blunt on pointing out his faults and disdains. It was true he didn’t really fancy your presence but he thought he kept it secretive enough. Not to mention, he thought you would accept his friendship in a heartbeat with no issue. Isn’t that what you wanted? To be close to him?

You stare at him expectantly. You know you had hit the nail as he stayed silent after your statement. Yet, to know that he actually didn’t like you, it hurt.

“I can’t say that you’re entirely wrong but…” He leads, the first few words already stinging your heart. You didn’t know why you thought wanted he would reject your words and say that you were wrong. You should’ve known better than that.. “I think it’s better for the whole class that we at least pretend to be friends. Shoko and Satoru desperately miss you for some reason.”

You stay silent, the words ringing through your head before you finally process it after a few seconds. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“So… can we be friends?” He asks, looking you in the face, the look that always caused you to blush.

“Fine by me.” You say, standing up, trying to quickly leave the cafe before it became obvious on the fact that you still somehow had a crush on that curse eater.

He, thankfully, let you leave.

~

You stood outside of class, staring at the door. It was the first day of school after agreeing to be friends although fake with Suguru Geto.

You know you had to enter soon, but the prospect of seeing him again and having to talk to him was nerve-wrecking.

“Why are you staring at the door?”

You jump at the sudden voice, turning back to see the man you were trying to avoid behind you. He looked at you weirdly, tilting his head.

“I- I was just thinking…” You say, looking in front indignantly.

He raises an eyebrow at you before opening the door, ushering you inside.

Satoru and Shoko were already in the classroom. They smile at the both of you and wave you over to sit with them. You, gratefully, take a seat beside Shoko. As per usual, you stay quiet, listening to them talk and squabble. You started zoning out as their discussion continued on.

“Well, what do you think y/n?” The mention of your name snaps you back to reality. You look at Shoko who had called you.

“I’m sorry- I was blurred out, what did you say?”

“Since the school break is happening soon, we wanted to go on a roadtrip around Japan. Though, it’s either that or we do something else. So… what do you want to do?” Shoko explains.

“Come on y/n, say yes to the roadtrip! I’ll even pay for all your expenses!” Satoru adds on, giving you a pleading look. You smile at him.

“Sure… I wouldn’t mind.”

Satoru gives you the widest grin before hugging you. You laugh at him, accepting the hug. You glance at Shoko who rolls her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips.

You live in that moment for a while. Not realising how Suguru was staring at your enveloped figure. Something inside him burned as he watched Satoru hold you in a tight hug. He shakes away the thought. It must be because Satoru is holding you. Satoru is his best friend, why would he want his best friend holding a filthy monkey?

The road trip was planned and scheduled. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of belonging. The plan was to sleepover at Suguru’s old house and leave early the next day. That was the reason you stood in front of Suguru’s house, your trunk in hand. You tapped nervously on the hard leather cover of the trunk as you waited for someone to open the door. Satoru and Shoko were already there as they were used to going to his house. You, were not.

The door opens, Suguru standing in front of you. Your breath hitches as you see him.

He looked beautiful. His hair down and in a comfortable black sweatshirt. His eyes looked tired but it was obvious he had been smiling as his laugh lines looked more obvious than usual.

“Oh. You’re here.” He says.

You give him a small smile. He stands to the side, letting you in. Before you could even take a look around, he grabs your shoulder, pulling you near. Your eyes widen as you feel his hand grabbing you back.

“Listen. I know we’re ‘friends’ and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t exactly like you. So, don’t get any wrong ideas okay? We’re just friends.” He says sternly, looking down at your face. His eyes softening for a second as he took a proper look at your face. He had never seen it that close before. He had to admit you were pretty but no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not you, not after everything he had said.

You pull away from him, failing to notice how his eyes saddened as you remove yourself from him. Why did he feel that way? He didn’t like you.

“I get it man. We’re friends. I’m fine with that.” You say, glaring at him.

“Good.” He says, ignoring you as he brings you up the stairs to his room where Shoko and Satoru played UNO on the floor.

“y/n! You’re lateeee” Satoru drawls out, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. You agree, sitting beside him as you watch him and Shoko play a game of UNO. Satoru, getting increasingly frustrated with losing, not knowing Shoko had been secretly passing you cards to hide.

“This game is rigged!” Satoru shouts out after his 11th time losing. “Let’s do something else!”

You laugh, nodding at him. Suguru’s hand twitching as he hears your laugh. He keeps quiet.

You all decided to watch a movie before falling asleep soon on the floor. It had been ages since you had this much fun. As you stare into the ceiling, the world around starts getting darker before eventually you fall into a deep slumber.

~

You awoke to the sound of something moving, you open your eyes, catching a shadow of man walking towards the door before closing it. You sit up, feeling curious on who had left the room. Your throat felt dry.

You needed a drink.

That was your reasoning. Surely there was no other reason for you to follow a shadow that was most definitely Suguru downstairs to the kitchen. You were just thirsty.

You quietly head down the stairs, catching a glimpse of Suguru at the counter of his kitchen, drink in hand. He looked so… broken.

Maybe you didn’t need a drink.

“I know you’re there.” He says.

Nevermind, you did need a drink.

“My throat… I wanted a drink…” You say softly, showing yourself. He looks at you, his eyes showing the distinct look of sadness.

He nods, pushing the jug of water near you and grabbing a cup for you. You poured the water in and took a sip. The air of awkwardness surrounding the both of you as you both stood drinking water.

“Are… Are you alright?” You ask, breaking the silence. He keeps quiet, taking a sip.

“I’m fine.” He says solemnly after a while. You knew better to fight him about it.

After a while, you left to go back to sleep, leaving Suguru all alone downstairs.

It enraged him. Why did you leave him? Why did you stop showing him affection? You were supposed to like him, not ignore him! You… You and your stupid laugh. The laugh that only happened near him but never because of him. The sincere smile that you gave others but not him.

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair, why did they get it but not him?

He hated it.

He hated you.

He didn’t like you. No, you were supposed to like him. That’s how it was supposed to work.

You had to like him. He wanted your attention, your affection, your love. He wanted your all.

So, why weren’t you giving it to him?

Why were you making him give his to you?

part 3

[duffslut]

Why'd you only call me when you're high? *2*

Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Part *One* of this story.

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 1001

Warnings: Angst!

The day dawned and your body was exactly the same way Izzy had laid it on the bed last night, you didn't know what time you had finally fallen asleep, but you had the feeling that you slept for a very short time. You sat up in bed and rested your back against the headboard, feeling a sharp pain in your head that made you let out a groan. You had no intention of getting up, your body seemed to be stuck to the sheets, you reached over to the desk and grabbed a cigarette.

The day was clear but cold and you felt relieved it was sunday and you didn't have to go to work in the state you were in. You took a drag on your cigarette and let the smoke slowly come out of your nose, your phone rang but you were too lazy to answer it, you heard it ring until the call went to voicemail.

"Hey, mhm... I don't know if you're awake yet but, Izzy told me about last night, he's feeling really bad I think you guys should talk."

And suddenly you remembered. Izzy had come to your house last night, you talked too much, told him you loved him and he just left. The memories came rushing back, making your head hurt even more, and a boiling anger took over you. You answered the phone before Duff hung up.

"You can tell your stupid friend that he has no right to feel bad and that meeting him was the worst thing I ever did in my life!"

You hung up the phone, slamming it down hard. How typical of Izzy, to send his friend to deliver a message for him. What a coward. You said to yourself mentally, trying your best to hate him, you knew that declaring yourself might not happen as expected, but you never imagined that Izzy could be so cold to you, leaving you alone without even an answer.

You walked around the room not knowing what to do, your whole like was such a mess. You were on your third cigarette, still wearing your pajamas when your doorbell rang.

You threw your cigarette butt in the ashtray and went to answer it, wondering who would disturb you on a sunday morning.

- No! - You screamed and closed the door immediately when you saw who was standing behind it.

- Y/n Please! - You heard Izzy say, knocking on the door again. - Please just give me a chance!

You covered your mouth with both hands, and let your body fall to the ground, feeling your throat hurt and your eyes burn, you were about to start crying. Why was he there? Wasn't it enough to humiliate you last night? To leave you alone and drunk after you had just told him you loved him? You remained silent, maybe he would give up and leave.

Minutes passed and the knocking on the door finally stopped, you got up and opened it to check if he had really gone. As soon as you opened it, a warm hand touched your face and Izzy kissed you, on impulse, you responded, with tears running down your cheeks, but then you returned to your senses and pushed him away slowly.

- Why are you doing this, Izzy? - You asked, genuinely confused, why was he there?

Izzy didn't take his eyes off yours, he entered your room and closed the door without looking back, a mixture of feelings ran through your body, and you had to sit down. Izzy seemed embarrassed but at the same time restless, he didn't move or say anything for a few moments.

- I'm sorry. - Was the first thing he said.

- Don't apologize for not loving me back Izzy. - You spoke quietly, not having the courage to look him in the eyes.

You felt his confused stare at you.

- Y/n, I never imagined I could have someone like you. - He said, you kept your head down while Izzy walked to the other couch and sat down. - I never imagined that you could want to have anything with me.

You listened to his words, still unable to understand where he was going with this, he waited for an answer for a while, but you didn't say anything.

- I tried to distract myself by going to parties, drinking like a drunkard and doing drugs, but you were always on my mind, so much so that I always ended up calling you. - You looked up. - I always called you because you were the one I really wanted, it was always you, Y/n.

Izzy sighed, you didn't know what to think.

- Why didn't you say anything yesterday? - It was the only answer you could think of.

- I was taken by surprise, I was too nervous, I was too drunk and I said things I would never have said to you, if you knew how much I wanted to hurt myself for making you cry... Leaving you alone in that bed was more painful for me than for you Y/n, believe me, I was so disgusted when I realized you were right, that I actually used you.

- Please don't talk about yourself like that. - You said.

- It's what I deserve, because I loved you and didn't treated you like I should have, and now I've lost you forever.

- You loved me? - You asked.

- I've always did, and I think I always will.

You finally let out the air that had been trapped in your lungs since Izzy had started talking, he loved you! Seeing him being so intimate and sincere with you made you realize that you could never hate him, not even if you wanted to.

- I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry, for everything. -Izzy said getting up and heading to the door.

It took you a few seconds to get up and run to him.

- Izzy! - He turned around and you threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. - Stay.

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

Warning: sensitive topics like physical and mental abuse.

For a better understanding of these two, you can also read the other short stories in the John Price Masterlist.

Prof!Price as he's standing in front of his window, a hand inside the pocket of his work pants and the other with a glass full of bourbon, just like his mind, full of thoughts.

His appearance was horrible, or at least he thought. His tie was loose around his neck; the shirt was open with a few buttons, giving a glimpse of his hairy chest. Dark circles below his tired blue eyes, product of the sleepless night he's having.

John found himself haunted by a relentless nightmare.

A nightmare of his father.

His abusive father.

He doesn't like to talk about his hometown or his relatives. Coming from a family of abusers, he wasn't proud of showing off the monsters he's related to. John didn't bring a friend to his home, didn't bring his first girlfriend or his first love to his parents so they could meet them, afraid of what others would think about. Afraid of what his family could do to them.

As long as people focus on the present or the future and step by step forcing to change for something better, he doesn't care about the rest.

But, when a monster from his past comes to haunt him, is over.

Yesterday, John could barely teach the students, let alone get to his classroom. His attitude was distant and cold with everyone. Today, he was getting ready for work, but he couldn't even step outside of the door without his mind taking over that demon haunting him. So he decided to stay at home and drink something to burn the feeling he had on his chest.

With a sigh, his orbs glanced up to the moon. Bright and beautiful, pure and calm. Just like his lover.

"John," that beautiful angelic voice was heard from behind him, as if the thought of her face was a call for her to be there. John knew she would've appeared at any moment. Coming from his lack of interest to his phone, it has to be full of missed calls and messages from work and other people, including her. Having a spare key to his apartment was obvious she would have come and seen him.

John didn't turn his back. Instead, he just raised his glass, taking another sip, feeling the burning sensation running down his throat.

She stepped closer to him, entering his room illuminated with only the essence of the moon. As she got closer, she saw the almost empty bottle in his nightstand accompanied by the ashtray with the remains of a rothschild cigar finished a few hours ago.

She goes to his left, taking in his appearance and profile. His work clothes are wrinkled and half done. His cheeks are a little rosy behind his beard — the beard she loves so much—, showing signs of the alcohol doing its effect and tired eyes refusing to look at her.

Still, he looks so handsome.

When Price didn't respond to her messages today and the day before, her mind instantly was clouded with questions. Was he busy? Why yesterday he did not stay at the end of the class like he always does? Or worse... did something happened to him?

The mental battle she had was endless, machining trying to find an answer to why he is behaving like that, not answering her calls or texts. She thought about everything.

But when she saw he didn't come to class today and heard one of the superiors saying, "It's strange, the professor from literature is absent. He never does that." That's when she knew something was wrong.

She couldn't ask them what had happened with her professor.

What happened with her lover.

That's why she's here now. In his apartment.

"John... is everything okay? Why didn't you come to the university today?"

"Didn't want to." Said Price as he lifted his glass, ready to take the final drink and feel the burning sensation to match with the one he has on his chest, but she was faster and took away his glass.

"Stop drinking and tell me what happened Joh-..." The words died in her mouth, long forgotten as she saw the look in his eyes. It was sadness. Agony.

Worry began to appear in her face as she saw his eyes with a heavy emotion.

Professor John Price is known for being a man with so much charisma and confidence. Everything, he does it with passion. His demeanor is so professional and serious that you can't help but fall in love with him (as she did). He takes over the control of his emotions, so it is not common to see him showing them.

So when she's finally here and saw her lover with torment and agony in his eyes, she started to feel pain too, because she's never experienced that expression from John Price.

"John? What's wrong?"

When he didn't respond, she put the glass on his nightstand and took his hand in hers. "Let's sit on the bed, come on."

The two of them sat down on his bed, never leaving their hands. The feeling of her skin with him was like a beautiful flower in the middle of the storm he was feeling inside.

She looked at him in his eyes. She knows he doesn't like to talk about his emotions, but he needs to know she's there for him the same way he's always there for her.

She lifted his hand slowly and started to kiss it slowly. "I'm here." She said between kisses. "You can tell me, or just stay silent, but I'm here. I will always be."

John's eyes never left her actions as she continued to give him little kisses on his hand.

She's so precious.

"I had a nightmare." She stopped and slowly looked up at him. She didn't say anything and just waited until he decided to continue again, giving him the space and time necessary.

"My father was... was an abuser. He abused my mother physically and mentally. My mother wasn't abusive as he was, but sometimes she took her anger out on me, giving me a couple of bruises." He looked for a second at their intertwined hands, noticing how she started to caress him with her thumb.

"She wasn't like that when I was young. It was just years of pent-up frustration and anger that my father was acting this way. She found me as a way to let out everything she felt. I always tried to defend her when my father started to hit her, but that only came worse to me."

He took a sigh, letting the tension of the shoulders disappear but still visible. "I ran away from them. I moved to this city when I was almost an adult and stayed with a distant family of my mother who somehow knew about my situation."

"So the nightmare was about..."

"Yes. About my mom... About him, my dad."

Price looks at her. He noticed the little frown she had on her forehead and her eyes visible with worry. This time, he took her delicate hands and kissed it softly, trying to ease her face and feelings.

"Oh my God, John. Why didn't you tell me anything? I don't... I don't know what to say." She let go of his hands and gave him a hug.

John puts her in an embrace. Hugging her and feeling her warmth radiating from her body like delicate waves, calming the tempest he had in his heart.

He lets go of her and takes her hands again. "I won't be like the other partners you had. You will not meet most of my family members, just a very few. I don't want you associating with them in any way, so we're not going to my hometown and spending the holidays with them. It's just me and sometimes my distant family." He said, looking at her beautiful eyes.

John's former partners were always telling him how cold he was because he didn't want them to meet his family, saying that he didn't care or liked them enough to finally make things official. Of course, he didn't tell them about his situation because he didn't want any pity or even though they were partners, he didn't feel comfortable enough.

But with her, everything's different.

She feels like home to him.

Like peace.

Like heaven.

She puts one of her hands on his cheek, looking at him with so much love. "Promise me to not hide yourself when you're in pain. It's unfair that we laughed together, but you cried alone."

Price lets out a beautiful laugh, the first one he made in these two days. "Did you just quote a phrase of one of the books I gave you?"

She laughs too, feeling relieved her lover is smiling again. "I figured you'd understand the line I'm going for. The point is, please don't distance yourself from me, John. I was really worried and I couldn't ask the other professors if they knew because..."

"I know... I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

She shakes her head with a little smile plastered on her face. "It doesn't matter. The only thing is that I know you're here and you told me everything."

He just stares at her with the familiar feeling creeping up his veins. Love.

Fuck.

He truly doesn't deserve her.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

This was such a vague idea, lmao. I didn't know how to write it, but I hope you guys like it.

I apologize for any mistakes or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated. 🫶

[ur-not-reddie]

When The Day Is Dead

“Hey, Eds.” Richie greets with a grin, leaning on the lockers that are placed next to Eddie’s. 

“”Hey,” Eddie says distractedly as he shoves books into his locker, swapping them out for others. 

“Got any plans for tonight?” Richie asks, smile still upon his lips. 

“Umm, I don’t think so.” Eddie hums in thought, closing his locker. “Why? Do you want to hang out tonight or something?” Eddie smiles as equally as wide as Richie. 

“Yeah,” Richie nods. “Look, I know your mom doesn’t ‘believe’ in Halloween or whatever, but I wanted to invite you to the pumpkin patch. My parents and I are going and I really want you to come.” 

Eddie’s insides nearly burst into flames. Going to a pumpkin patch with a boy he’s been in love with since he can remember? He’d be an idiot to pass this up. 

“I’d love to,” Eddie nods, lips hurting from smiling so much. “But what will I tell my mom?” Eddie’s smile fades at the thought of her. 

“Just tell her that you’re hanging out with all of us. Big movie night or somethin’.” 

“Okay,” Eddie’s smile returns. Eddie whips out his phone and types a quick message to his mother, Sonia responding shortly after. She doesn’t seem to suspect a thing and that fills Eddie glee. 

The bell rings, signaling that the last class is starting. The two decide to meet at Richie’s car after school. The last class felt like a drag to both of them. Both boys are eager to meet and head to the pumpkin patch. 

When class ends, Eddie nearly books it to Richie’s car after, not wanting to waste any time. He makes it before Richie, testing to see if the car is unlocked - it is. He gives a soft, evil giggle and gets in the passenger side of the car. He props his feet on the dash and leans back into the seat with a pleased sigh. Only a few moments later, Richie arrives. 

“Ready to go, Eds?” Richie asks as he starts the car. 

“Aren’t your parents coming too?” Eddie asks, setting his feet on the floor, putting his seatbelt on. 

“Well…” Richie sighs. “I kind of lied. They’re not coming, it’s just us.” Richie explains, keeping his eyes on the steering wheel while Eddie stays silent. Little does Richie know, Eddie’s heart is practically pounding out of his chest. “I hope that’s okay.” Richie says softly. 

“Of course it’s okay,” Eddie can’t help but blush, knowing his cheeks are burning bright red. “I don’t mind. I think it’ll be fun.” he smiles widely, his eyes glowing. 

“Okay,” Richie can’t help but giggle, butterflies swarming in his stomach. 

The drive there wasn’t too terribly long, or maybe it was and the two were busy talking to even notice the distance. As they arrive, Eddie is taken away by all the pumpkins surrounding them. 

“Woah,” he gasps, spinning in a slow circle to take everything in. “I haven’t seen so many pumpkins in my life!” 

Richie laughs at Eddie’s reaction, wanting so badly to kiss him at this moment. It takes everything in him to refrain. Instead, he breathes out in a dreamy manner, looking at Eddie adoringly. 

“What do you want to do first? Pumpkins? Corn maze? Hay ride?” Richie lists off. Eddie’s eyes go wide at all the options. 

“Can we do the corn maze?” Eddie bounces on his heels. 

“Haunted or regular?” Richie asks. Eddie nearly death glares at him as he already knows the answer.  “Regular it is!” Richie chuckles and starts to lead the way. God, does he wish he could hold Eddie’s hand right now. The temptation of it is nearly unbearable. The two enter the maze, finding their way pretty easily until Richie gets them all twisted about. 

“Wait,” Richie says as he turns around slowly. “I think we go this way.” he points to the left. Eddie sighs. 

“Richie, dumbass, we just came from that way.” 

“No, we came from this way.” Richie motions confidently towards the right. Eddie rubs his temples as he takes another deep exhale. 

“Just let me lead the way,” Eddie says as he walks ahead of Richie. 

“You’re going to make us more lost!” Richie shouts as he catches up to Eddie. 

“You were the one that got us lost!” Eddie turns around to face Richie, looking up at him. “We were doing fine and now-“ Eddie cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Fine. You lead the way.” 

“Gladly,” Richie puffs out his chest, cheesy grin playing on his lips. “Follow me, Eds! I’ll get us out of here, easy peasy.” 

“Okay,” Eddie gives a soft giggle as he now follows Richie knowing he’ll turn them in circles over and over. Eddie lets it happen until he can’t take it anymore. 

“Okay, you’ve led us in the wrong direction every time, listen to what I say!” Eddie huffs, crossing his arms, Richie finding him completely adorable. 

The two continue on, bickering and playfully bantering. Eventually, they exit the maze an hour later. 

“We made it!” Richie cheers, fist pumping the air. 

“Fucking finally,” Eddie groans, throwing his head back. “Can we pick pumpkins now?” he looks at Richie, a wide smile now painted on his lips. 

“Yes,” Richie nods. Him and Eddie walk slowly towards that field of pumpkins, them laughing during conversation. 

“Which one do I pick?” Eddie asks as his eyes scan all the pumpkins before him. 

“Whichever you want. Short and fat, tall and skinny. Tall and fat or short and skinny. It’s all up to you, Eds.” Eddie looks around some more before spotting the perfect one.  

“Oh! I want this one!”

“This one’s mine!”

They both speak simultaneously, grabbing for the same pumpkin, hands brushing against each other. 

“Oh,” Eddie burns bright red. “You can have it.” he says sheepishly as he pulls his hand away. 

“No,” Richie smiles, picking up the pumpkin and handing it to Eddie. “She’s all yours.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, grabbing the pumpkin, cheeks still flushed. 

“Yeah, of course!” Richie says in a cheery tone. “You've never been before and I want you to have the best pumpkin.” 

Eddie hugs the pumpkin close, following Richie around until he spots one that he likes. They go to the booth and pay, the two fighting over who pays and who doesn’t. Richie, before Eddie can get any money out, pays for both of the pumpkins. 

“I hate you,” Eddie tries to say seriously, but fails. 

“Oh, you love me, Eds.” Richie laughs, only half-joking. He hopes deep down Eddie loves him in the way he loves Eddie. 

“I do,” Eddie mutters softly. It’s not a lie. He’s in love with Richie. 

The night begins to fall and the two decide to walk back to the car and head home to Richie’s house. Eddie loves Richie’s house. His parents are so sweet and loving and caring. He could spend eternity there and never get tired. It’s his happy place; his safe haven. 

“We’re homeeee!” Richie marches inside, holding his pumpkin in the air. Eddie follows after him. 

“Hi, boys!” Maggie greets as she walks out from the kitchen. “How was it?” 

“It was amazing,” Eddie chirps. “I had so much fun. We even did the corn maze!" he sets his pumpkin on the ground. 

“And how was that?” she asks again, a warm smile on her lips. 

“We…” Eddie tries to find the right words. “We eventually made it.” he gives a soft laugh. 

“Well I’m glad you two had a good time. I set out all your pumpkin carving supplies outside if you want to carve them.” 

Richie and Eddie make their way to the back door, turning on the porch light as he does so. They set their pumpkins on the back table, stab them with knives and take out the guts. Richie grabs some of the seeds and goo, raises it above his hand up, acting as if he’s going to throw it at Eddie.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Eddie screeches. 

“Oh, or what?” Richie asks playfully.

“I’ll knock your teeth to the back of your throat, bitch.” Eddie threatens. Richie can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll knock your teeth to the back of your throat, bitch.” Richie mocks. 

“Get out of here,” Eddie nudges Richie with his shoulder. The two goof around, deciding to carve out silly faces. Wentworth comes out with two small candles and Maggie with two steaming mugs. 

“Cider for you, and cider for you.” she says as she hands them the mugs. 

“Let’s light these!” Richie says enthusiastically placing a candle in his pumpkin and burning it, Eddie copying his actions. 

Maggie and Wentworth stay outside for a minute to enjoy the glow of the pumpkins and the company of the boys. It was only a few moments later that the parents go back inside. Richie and Eddie stand there in comfortable silence for some time until Richie breaks it. 

“Eds?” Richie asks seriously. 

“Hmm?” Eddie hums in question. 

“I have to tell you something…” Richie pauses. “Something important.”

“You can tell me anything.” Eddie says sincerely, turning his head to look at Richie, only the glow of the candles in the pumpkins lighting up Richie’s face. Another long pause. 

“I… I like you.” Richie finally says. “A lot and I have for a really long time.” 

“You do?” Eddie asks, complete shock washing over him. Richie bites his lip and nods. 

“Well…” Eddie says bashfully. “I like you too.” he bats his eyes. 

There’s nothing more that can be said before they start kissing. Lips crashing against each other in a passionate kiss yet somewhat tender. The kiss lingers for quite some time, the two unable to get enough of each other. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Richie says breathlessly. 

“Me too,” Eddie admits. “Now do it again.”

-

happy halloween <3

[mxsqerxde]

wrote a little soriku fic about their first meeting :) under the cut

nulla i. dearly beloved chapter

riku hated having to go run errands with his mother. it wasn’t often, but whenever she brought him out with her, she was constantly scolding him. be quiet, don’t touch anything, sit here and wait for me to finish, he felt more like a nuisance than a helper. he almost preferred when he was at home with his nanny, a bitter old lady who kept him glued to the dining table to study for hours on various subjects to prepare for when he’d finally start school. the only reason he was even here was because his nanny called sick— something or other about her having a real bad cough— so his mother begrudgingly took him with her while she ran around town to make preparations for one of the events that she and his father hosted.

this part of the trip took them to a bakery— one he knew was small, but very favored by the locals, judging by how his mother had raved about it on a phone call with an associate. the inside smelled like fresh bread and sugar, making riku feel hungry all of a sudden; all he had eaten that day was a few pieces of toast and about a quarter of his mom’s coffee, since she’d swallowed most of it down before declaring that the order was wrong, scoffing and declaring that the teenage barista that made her drink had butchered it.

holding riku’s hand, his mother pulled him up to the counter and began talking to the very pretty woman behind it. he stared at her for a few moments, fascinated by her presence. there were very few adults he’d met who didn’t share similarities with his parents: professional, cold, and with achingly high expectations, but this lady seemed so different it was almost strange, with her fond smile and warm voice. she even said hi to him, which made him sputter, which made his mother scold a small "hello" out of him. he tried his best not to look at her, after that.

his endeavor in looking at everything else led him to find someone else to stare at, seated at a table for two, scribbling away at a piece of paper with a red crayon. he was a boy, about riku’s age, but unlike him, he had tanned skin, brown hair, and a weird sort of sparkle in his eyes. it only took a moment for the boy to notice riku’s intense gaze, to which he responded with a big grin, brighter than the sun, before he hopped out of his seat.

he was walking towards him, riku realized. he turned away, but by the time he’d done so, the boy was by his side.

“hi,” riku’s cheeks burned as the boy spoke to him. “i’m sora. do you wanna color with me?”

the lady behind the counter peered at the two of them, and riku noticed that she and the boy— sora— had identical sunshine grins. that must make her his mom, in that case. “aw, look at you two,” she turns to riku’s mother, and his gut starts twisting. “why don’t we let them go play for a little while, mrs. taira? this consultation may run long, so it’d be a shame for him to just stand there the whole time.”

riku’s mother scrutinizes him, then sora. there’s a long pause, and though there’s a disapproving look in her eyes, she gives them an okay.

“behave yourself.”

with that, the two adults begin talking once again, and with newfound vigor, sora grabs riku’s hand, tugging him towards the door. “come on, let’s go outside!”

riku let himself be dragged out the door, almost jumping out of his skin when he hears sora’s mom shout a be home before the streetlights turn on, okay? as they enter onto the sidewalk.

this is the first time he’s ever been out alone before— or at least, out without his mom, or dad, or nanny. he’d never even asked, thinking he was too young. sora seemed like a natural at this, though, never letting go of riku’s hand as he walked a few paces ahead.

“i forgot to ask,” sora says, looking back at riku. “what was your name, again?”

“it’s riku.”

“alright then, riku! we’re going to the park. have you ever played swords?”

as they walked together, riku pondered the question. he’d just started the fencing classes his mother put him in earlier this year, but he didn’t think that qualified as playing swords. so, he shook his head, and sora grinned.

“that’s okay,” sora pulls him across the street. “i’ll go easy on you.”

riku doesn’t really go to the park, so seeing it is foreign. he doesn’t spend too much time focusing on it, though, because sora pulls him past the monkey bars and swings and past a bundle of trees to a small clearing, with nothing but a small pile of wooden swords. sora picks up two of the swords, before tossing one at riku. instinctively, his hand snaps up to catch it, and the gleam in sora’s eyes shine just a little brighter.

getting ready to start, sora gives a very simple rundown of how playing works. pretty much… they’re supposed to attack each other with the swords until someone has to tap out or until someone is caught unable to defend themselves.

“okay, okay… go!”

it’s only a couple of minutes before sora is on his back, his sword clattering a few feet away from him. riku’s about to help him up, but sora springs up, that big smile brighter than the sun still on his face despite his stumble, yelling out an again! riku wins every time, but without fail, sora hops up and demands they go again. there’s one time where, when sora’s just a little ahead, riku’s strike back hits just a bit too hard and sora tumbles onto the ground. unlike the other times, he hops up with scraped knees and a bruised elbow, and riku’s blood runs cold. sora’s going to hate him now, for being too rough. too harsh.

except, sora looks up at the sky, before grinning at riku. “we should probably go back, now. mama said to be back before the lights turned on.”

sora dumps his wooden sword back on the pile, and riku follows suit, keeping in step to the smaller boy, though he keeps glancing at the bleeding spots on sora’s body. finally, he turns to ask about them.

“your scrapes,” riku asks, “they don’t hurt?”

“my scrapes?” sora kicks his feet out a little further, seemingly to look at the abrased skin. “nah. just stings a little.”

“sorry— for hitting you too hard.”

“it’s fine!” there’s that smile again. it never ceases to make riku’s insides twist, but not in a bad way. “i’ve been hurt worse. like this one time, when my dad took me to the park…”

the rest of the walk home is sora talking, and riku listening. he talks about his family— his mom, the owner of the bakery, his dad, a fisherman, and his grandma, and how his last name, griffith, comes from his dad, but he thinks his mom’s last name is cooler. he talks about things he likes, like swimming, and playing swords, and he talks about the adventure picture books he’s learning how to read, and how he wants to go on an adventure someday. he even says that riku can come with him, and riku says maybe, though he knows that his mother would never, ever agree.

they’re at the bakery just as the streetlights turn on, and the slight chill of the night vanishes with the warmth of the shop, and riku’s tummy grumbles again at the smell of food. his mother is on the phone, no doubt talking to some clients or coworkers, while sora’s mom is packing up some baked goods in boxes. when she sees the two, she tilts her head at them, her lips pursing. “sora, dear, did you fall again?”

“sorry,” sora sighs, though he doesn’t sound very apologetic. “i just tripped! no biggie.”

riku doesn’t point out that sora was lying because he’s too busy noticing his mother squinting at sora. her features are tightly neutral, but riku can tell there’s disgust in her eyes. sora goes back behind the counter, where his mom decorates his knees and elbow with bandaids of various sizes and patterns.

riku’s mother hangs up the phone, putting it back in the pockets of her pencil skirt before grabbing the box, decorated light yellow and blue in a way that reminds riku of the seashore. at the same time, sora comes back around the counter, grabbing both of riku’s hands.

“we should play again, sometime!” he squeezes his hands, and riku’s face starts burning again.

sora’s mom gasps and claps her hands together, turning to riku’s mother. “oh, they should! what do you think?”

riku’s mother eyes sora, before shaking her head. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea. after all, riku has to prepare for the upcoming school year.”

“oh, come on,” sora’s mom says, “kids his age need to socialize! it’s very important for proper development, you know.”

riku half expects his mother to scoff out another rejection, grab riku’s hand and leave, but at under the dual attack of puppy eyes coming from both sora and his mother, she sighs. “fine, i suppose.”

“perfect!” sora’s mother smiles. “let’s keep in touch, then.”

finally, riku’s hand is taken by his mother, and he’s pulled towards the door, but he’s shuffling his feet so that he can look behind him, and even as he passed the door, he continued to stare at sora through the window, until he disappeared from riku’s line of vision. riku hated having to go run errands with his mother. he hated it, but perhaps this time wasn’t so bad.

[depravedsafehaven]

So what if my dom had just done something around the house. I don't know, let's say thoroughly cleaned the kitchen.

Enter me, sub that means oh so well, but boy do I need some disciplining. When I go in the kitchen to pour myself a drink, I spill a bit and I don't bother cleaning it up. It's just a spill after all. When my dom goes in the kitchen later and sees the spill, they are besides themself with anger. Normally, this would barely bother them. Maybe a few playful slaps on my ass, sure. But maybe my dom's been stressed at work the last couple of weeks. And this was their last straw.

They immediately come and find me, maybe to make matters worse, I just happened to be sipping on my drink. Just sitting on the sofa, scrolling on my phone. I look up and I see the look on their face, I recognise it. I know I'm in trouble, and I'm racking my brain for any terrible offense I could've done. But I can't think of anything. As soon as I've put my drink down, they storm over to me, and plant a firm slap across my face.

I want to ask what this is about, but I don't get the chance. They already have their hand tangled in my hair and are dragging me to the kitchen. Finally in the kitchen, they bend me over the spill but keeping my face just barely out of the liquid by pulling my hair tightly. "What is the meaning of this?" It comes out as a growl from them. It takes me a while to realise they are talking about the spill, that's how minor it is. "Seriously? Fucking hell it's just a spill! I'll clean it up if you let me go." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I'm being pushed to a wall, their hand now squeezing around my throat. "If it was that easy to clean it up, why didn't you do it as soon as it happened, fucking cunt?" And although it's hard to get any words out with the hand around my neck, I manage to croak out an apology. My dom doesn't care. It's too late for all that.

They push me back over the counter, this time my face is full in the liquid of my drink. I gasp for breath, and the sweet scent of whatever soft drink is on the counter enters my nose. I feel my dom pull down my trousers and my panties and I hear them undo their belt. I try to get up, to get away. The punishment I know I'm about to receive is way too harsh for the crime. My dom stops with their belt and pins my wrists behind my back with one hand. They bend down over my back, and pull my hair so that my right ear is close to their mouth. "Listen here, you bitch. I'm going to bruise your ass with my belt and after that, I'm going to fuck your ass. If you take the belt like a good girl, I'll fuck your face first so you don't have to take me in the ass dry. Understood?". I can't get any words out, so I just nod. They let my hair go and my head falls on to the counter. I hear the belt go through the loops of their jeans. "Don't make me restrain you." Is their final warning before the first strike lands.

I try to move as little as possible, though I can't stop the squirming all together. Luckily, my dom is forgiving when giving out punishment. They know the guilt of having done something wrong and the punishment itself is hard to deal with. And they don't expect me to lay completely still. After every strike, I say the words "thank you, may I please have another?" My dom knows I don't want another, not during a punishment. Not when I'm sobbing like this. But I know this response has been taught to me, it's how they want me to verbally respond.

After 20, 25 slaps? I hear the belt drop. I don't dare say a word, dare move an inch. My ass feels like it's on fire, my legs are burning from the position I've been in. I feel my dom's hand on my back, at first I flinch. But then I realise they are just stroking me. They are giving me comfort before we move on. The comfort doesn't last nearly long enough for me. Their hand is in my hair again and I'm being pulled upright and spun around. But what I see does reassure me. Although my punishment is not over, the look in my dom's eyes has softened. But they keep the same tone, same treatment as before.

"Well, since you were very good taking the belt. I'm going to fuck your face, let you make my cock nice and wet. So it will make fucking your ass a lot better for you, how does that sound?" They raise an eyebrow, almost challenging me to back-talk them now. But I knew better. "Thank you. That sounds very good." I say as I sink to my knees. I make quick work of opening their jeans and moving their underwear out of the way. One deep breath in before I place my mouth on their cock. Only for a few seconds do I get to set the pace. Before I know it, they have their hands on my head and are thrusting in my throat. They start gentle, but quickly pick up the pace. Their cock making me gag almost the whole way through. Again tears are forming in my eyes. And I take their cock as good as I can. Every now and then, I sneak a look up at them. Their eyes are locked on me, determined. But I can hear a moan or two escape their lips every once in a while.

I don't know how long I've been on my knees. All I know is that my throat feels raw when my dom pulls their cock out and pulls me back to my feet. Instead of grabbing me by the hair, they grip my arm tightly and pull me towards the bedroom. Once there, I am pushed on the bed. Even the soft pressure of the bed on my ass makes me hiss, but I don't complain, not now. My dom ruthlessly flips me over and puts me in doggy position. And without any warning, I can feel the pressure of their cock at my asshole. They enter gently, but once they bottom out, the pace is fast and hard. The spit from the face-fucking definitely helps a bit, but not enough. Not as much as actual lube would've. And although I'm not complaining, I can't help the sobs. I do my best to stifle my crying by doing so in a pillow. My dom sees this and pulls the pillow away from me. "No no sweetheart. Let me hear every noise you make. Let me hear you cry for me." Hearing that, makes me just cry even harder from relief. After what feels like an endless relent, I feel my dom quickening the pace. They're close. Not long after that, I hear them warn me before I feel them filling me up. They stay in me for a few seconds longer than necessary before pulling out.

As soon as I feel them pull out, I fall to the bed, letting the rest of my tears come out. I hear my dom leave to the kitchen, only to quickly return with a glass of water of water which they put on the bedside table. They join me in bed and take me in their arms. Telling me how good I took my punishment, how good I am.

I'm happy

[k-writer1998]

Through Your Eyes (2/3)

w.c: a little over 2k

***should be out of my slump now so the next chapter shouldn't take as long... maybe ^^;

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

My eyes shot open as pain burned along my skin, tracing the cracks that run along it. Quiet groans of pain spill from my lips, it was as if a thousand needles were piercing my chest. My agony was only greeted by my reality as pieces of my heart now littered my bed. Once my breathing became even and I was able to move with the least amount of pain, I reached for my phone. Instead, my hand bumped into something bulkier and I remembered the events of last night.

After spilling my deepest secret, talking to y/n became a lot easier and the weird air we had around us seemed to dissipate. By the end of the night the pitcher was nearly empty and I had only just finished my first glass. Thankfully y/n had enough of her wits about her but as we walked back I still ended up being her crutch. When we arrived, I led her to the door but before I could leave she grabbed my sleeve as she took a second to focus as she stood there staring at me for a few moments.

“Wait, a second. You still need your surprise,” she stated while digging in her tote before pulling out something bulky.

“You’re giving me a camera?”

“I’d never give away Sensei like that! It’s only a loan. I’m giving you homework. I’ll be busy for most of tomorrow so I want you to take pictures and we can meet up in the evening.”

“Is this exploitation or free labor?”

“You’re so funny Seungmin,” she laughs heartily as her hand slams into my back. “I’m more selective than that.”

With such an aggressive wake up call, the idea of staying in bed was rather tempting but the fact I’d be left with my thoughts wasn’t. Just imagining what kind of rabbit hole I’d fall into was enough to force myself to get ready and head out. With no real destination in mind, I wandered the area nearby as I aimlessly took photos of anything that caught my eye. A waiting dog, tree branches swaying in the wind, people setting up shop for the day, etc. As my feet took me wherever they wished, I thought back to the owner of this camera. Y/n isn’t an uncomfortable presence but she was definitely something else. It felt… normal being around her and it felt nice to feel that again. Playing along to her requests wasn’t bad, it at least made sure my last days weren’t spent being miserable.

By the time I arrived back at my room, the fatigue of being forced awake finally hit me and I crashed. When my eyes opened again it was dark out. Groggily pulling myself from bed to satiate the twisting hunger now forming in my stomach, I was greeted by the sound of y/n’s cheerful chatter as the kitchen came into view. Ah, she did say she would come find me in the evening… what time was it anyways?

“Oh, look there he is now,” Granny Jeong responded as I entered the doorway.

“He must have had a busier day than me but it’s okay because that means I got to spend more time with you,” y/n sweetly replied to the older woman.

Granny Jeong wished us both good night but not before giving us a playful wink that sent a blush burning across y/n’s face. The girl sputtered after the older lady’s figure before groaning and letting her head hit the table.

“What time is it?”

“It’s eight… oh god, she already has some weird idea going through her mind.”

“Aren’t all older ladies like that? It's harmless. When did you get here anyways?” Y/n continued to grumble to herself for a few more moments before responding.

“An hour ago. Rough day?”

“It was only supposed to be a nap… my bad.”

She gave me a nonchalant shrug as I continued to figure out what to eat. Moving about, I felt bad for being the only one eating so I offered to make her some instant ramen alongside my own that I found in the cupboard.

“I had dinner with my manager. If I had known, I would’ve grabbed something for you.”

“Just asked because it’s weird to be the only one eating.”

“Aww, how cute of you. Should I eat too so you don’t feel lonely?”

I just rolled my eyes at her teasing and told her to wait a second as I let the water boil. Grabbing the camera, I head back and hand it to her. Y/n’s eyes lit up at the sight and quickly reached out to take it. She became preoccupied with the photos as we fell into a comfortable silence. The short moment of peace sadly caught flames as another wave of pain flowed down the cracks on my skin once again. The flares have never happened so close together but things only get worse the closer to the end you get. I thought I hid the agony well but feeling her touch on my shoulder made me flinch from the pain searing the entirety of my skin.

“How about I take over?”

“How did you-”

“Let’s just call this your reward for finishing your homework.”

She gave me a warm smile that I couldn’t refuse, that and the fact the pain grew more debilitating with each passing second. I attempted to sit at the table but y/n clicked her tongue at me before helping me to my room, much to my protest but her bullheadedness won out. By the time the pain eased y/n had returned with the finished food.

“And I made some nice crunchy pajeon as a side because I’m so amazing,” she boasted.

“Sorry, You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Why are you apologizing for your reward?”

“You’re good at that,” I comment as I take a seat on the floor. “Making people not feel guilty for receiving help, I mean.”

“My friend was a lot more stubborn than you with getting help when he was sick so I had to get creative, but it’s not like you have control of your fits. I’d much prefer to hear a thank you anyways.”

“Well thanks.”

After a few bites, under her expectant gaze, I complimented the simple dish which made her already bright smile bigger. With that happy grin of hers she continued to scroll through the camera and I grew a bit curious.

“Why did you have me take pictures anyways?”

“The pictures someone takes actually say a lot about them. All of the subconscious choices made actually tell me who you are.”

“Wow, so you have a psychology degree now?” I joke.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not a science, more just assumptions I make myself and I’m at least… seventy-eight percent right most times?”

“So then what do my photos tell you about me?”

“Well for one, you keep things at an arm’s distance. You are neither too close or too far from the subject most times as if you are keeping a polite distance but that most likely applies to a lot of your real life relationships too. That mixed with how much light you always have in each photo; you are a kind and warm person.”

“You got all of that after knowing me for barely two days and from random photos I took? You think too kindly of me.”

“Again, it’s just my own beliefs but I think they hold some truth. Even if it was for your own purposes, you still agreed to my dumb friendship plan, right?”

“So you agree it’s stupid?” I tease, cracking a half smile.

“Shut up,” she chuckles with a shake of her head.

“Okay so I guess we can count that as kindness, any evidence to back up your claim of me keeping people at a distance?”

“Aside from the fact you chose to spend your last days secluded from everyone who cares about you?”

“Well if you ever get bored of photography, with your psychoanalyzing skills, you can be a therapist.”

“Ha. ha. You’re so funny.” she replied, matching my sarcasm. “Well. Now that I’ve collected your homework, I should leave the patient to rest, even if you just woke up from a “nap”. I’ll clean up then head out.”

“Hey, hey. I’ll clean up since it’s technically my mess.”

“Then I’ll help you since cleaning with help makes things go faster.”

“Are you always such a busy body?”

“Yup, but I’m especially pushy towards the people I care about.” 

With an unnecessary wink to punctuate her statement, she disappeared through the door frame with all the dishes. After we finished cleaning up, I walked her out but as I handed y/n her camera, she shook her head.

“Keep it for now. When we hang out I hope there will be memorable things you want to capture. I like how you take photos, the world is a lot prettier in your eyes.”

Leaving me with a mysterious smile, she disappeared through the gate and I just stared down at the camera. The days slowly began to tick away as I followed y/n on her whims and adventures. Aimless wandering, trying little hole-in-the-wall restaurants, enjoying each other’s company, and capturing little moments behind our lens. Sadly with those enjoyable moments, it only moved me closer to my end and it became more and more draining to be out on top of the increased fits of pain.

“Seungmin, are you sure you’ll make it to the beach okay?”

“I really want to see the sunset.”

She frowned but helped me up nonetheless, it was unavoidable that y/n saw my fits with how much time we spent together so her concern wasn’t unwarranted. Luckily a short walk down the road wouldn’t hurt any more than laying in bed would. As we made our way out of the room, in all of our movement a light clattering greeted our ears. Confused, y/n bent down to pick up what had fallen and curiously examined the red almost crystal looking shard. It took her a beat longer to realize what it was before she looked at me a bit flustered. With a tired smile I shook my head and the tension eased from her shoulders slightly, it was her first time seeing a fragment after all.

“Could you grab me the wooden box on the desk?”

As she handed me the box, I threw the fragment in with the other identical looking pieces that filled the small container. A strange feeling came over me as I now practically held my heart in my hands. Tucking it under my arm, we continued on our way until we were sitting by the water’s edge watching the waves run up the shore and barely miss the tips of our shoes. The silence that once felt so heavy now blew as light as the wind as we both stared off at the sky in our own thoughts and just like that first night, I spoke up first.

“Don’t you want to know the results of our bet?”

“Is it dumb of me to say that the photo doesn’t matter anymore?”

“After you literally fought tooth and nail to keep it?”

“I'll let you in on a secret. Photos aren't the things that spark inspiration, it's the people in it. The bet was actually counterintuitive. If we become friends, the photo is no longer needed since the muse is now part of my life.”

“How scheming, you really played your cards right.”

“I may have been scheming but I was always genuine from the start.”

“I know. You don’t have it in you to use people, you’re too nice.”

“And you say I psychoanalyze people,” she jokingly stated before adding “I have one hell of a way to make friends, am I right?”

“Like you said, artists all got a screw loose somewhere.”

We shared a quiet laugh together before I reached over her, I grabbed the camera she brought along and pointed the lens at us. Confused, she looked at me as if I was the crazy one and I just tugged her closer until I head lightly bumped against each other. I can’t really see how we look but this should be good. Click.

“As friends we should have at least one photo together,” I state as I smile at her.

[romac-and-cheese]

DUNGEONS AND DIRECTORATES

Entry 1: HELLO? CAN I SPEAK WITH YOUR MANAGER?

(Profile pic by Vitaly S. Alexius)

___

The air was bitingly cold, as usual. I struggled to run through the snow. Just a moment ago, I had caught sight of Seven entering an old office building. I didn't know where my other 'compatriots' were, but nevermind them. I had to reach Seven!

Zee had just stepped into the manager's office when I reached the building. I clung to the doorway, struggling to catch my breath.

"Capt- I mean, Seven!" I corrected myself, "I must speak with you! Immediately!"

"IF YOU NEED SOMETHING, ASK MY ASSISTANT!" Seven called from the office before slamming the door shut.

To the side, two green lenses slid into view. Pilot was behind a desk, typing rapidly on a keyboard while somehow balancing three phones against his head.

"Y-"

"OOOOOOOONE MOMENT!" Pilot shouted, before pushing a button on one of the old phone receivers, then frantically scribbling something on a piece of paper, all while STILL tapping away at the keyboard.

"This is-"

"SHHH!" Pilot held up a finger, "Uhuh? Mhm?" He spoke into one of the phones, "Sorry, I'm NOT INTERVESTED!" He slammed a different one back onto the reciever. "Your Call is Important to Us, Please Hold." He spoke with a nigh perfect American accent into the third.

This was ridiculous. Why was I waiting on him? I would try to talk to Seven myself, but I had no doubt that zee's lackey would be ordered to manhandle me. He might possibly even throw me out the window. Sure, we were on the ground floor, but broken glass is dangerous! And I didn't want to be thrown.

"Wut are youuu HERE for?" Pilot finally asked, waggling a finger at me.

"I must speak with Seven!"

"Zee's most divine, opulent excellency is busy. Have a nice day!" Pilot waved me off.

"What?! Seven is not busy!" I argued across desk.

"Bup-bup-bup!" Pilot silenced me as he picked one of the phones back up. He then proceeded to go into a long sales pitch for trash can lids as an effective and cheap pie-tin alternative.

I stamped my foot in anger. I HAD to speak with Seven... But it seemed I would first need to distract zeer contemptible second-in-command.

"Pilot!" I shouted, and the man went dead-still. He slowly, eerily turned his head to look at me. I realized that I had gotten ahead of myself. I had no lie prepared.

"There's, ah..."

The green goggles were unwavering, bug-like... There was no telling what went on behind them.

"There's a fire!" I lied, "And all the, ah...puppies and kitties in the building are going to be burned down! Unless you save them!"

Pilot turned to look out the giant, broken glass windows.

"I sees no fire." He muttered.

"It's, ah..." Damnit! This is when having Snippy around would have come in handy. I was loathe to admit it, but that man was much better at improv than I.

"I'll be right back." I left.

___

"PILOT!" I shouted, "There's the fire!" I pointed at the building in view which now had smoke pouring from it's windows.

"Oh noes!!!" Pilot lept up from his seat.

"Yes! There are baby cats and dogs in there! They need your help!" I goaded him on.

"I'll save those cool cats from their melty demise!" Pilot shouted as he lept over the desk in one swift movement, then began to sprint towards the burning building at a frightening pace.

Seeing how quick he was made me think twice about my plan- but no! I had to act now! I steeled myself and marched through the office door.

"Seven!" I called.

"AH, ENGIE!" Seven responded from where zee was reclined in a chair, legs resting on the manager's desk, "HOW GOES PROJECT 'TURN ZEE MOON INTO AN INSIDE-OUT DONUT'?"

"What? I don't know what you're talking about. Now listen to me!" I pulled out a map and held it up, "I have uncovered something dreadful!"

"OHO?" Seven replied interestedly from zeer chair.

I pointed at the map,

"The recent gravitational anomaly caused pieces of the dead zone to fall into the city," I tapped one spot highlighted in yellow, "We are here," I circled the multiple purple spots on the map, "And these are the misplaced deadzones I have discovered!" (-and some that Snippy had reported, but that was extraneous info)

"We must leave this part of the city before we get boxed in by dead zones!" I finished.

"HMMMM." Seven arched zee's fingers, leaning forward in zeer seat, "AN INTRIGUING PROPOSAL."

I lowered the map, anxiously. There was no doubt in my mind that we would all perish if we were trapped by the deadzones... Even if Seven's luck were to extend to those near zee, there was no telling what would happen if we got separated -and that had been happening a lot as of late.

"OKAY!" Seven finally announced. I let out the breath I was holding.

"HOWEVER!" Zee stood up and gingerly took the map from me, "WE MUST FIRST CHART A COURSE! AND I KNOW JUST HOW TO DO IT..."

From above the top edge of the map, purple lenses peered at me, piercing like needles into the very fabric of my being.

"...AND YOU ARE GOING TO HELP :) "

[atomicpaintercandy]

SMG4 Cyber World

Chapter 1: The decision

—————————————

Before we start the story I just want to make sure somethings. 

This is a au created by me. This happened in a cyberpunk vibe world.

English isn’t my first language so I might do a lot of mistakes.

I wrote it a long time ago so it probably won’t fit with new episodes.

And it contains the ship SMG34 and more (Gæ)

Tw: Sexual themes, R@pe, Murd3r (prb),  Bad language, Blood, Violence.

So it’s for a mature audience (like 14+)

Good reading everyone!

———————————————————————————————

3rd person pov:

14/04/XX 19:39

 Smg4 and Meggy were on the bridge of DigitalReality, the most famous city in the whole ring.

They seem to have a serious talk about something.

💙-Are you sure you want to join the authorities, Meggy?

🧡-Yes Smg4, this city really needs some people to take cares of all the illegalities who’s here.

💙-But you know like me how dangerous this is to work with the police. 

🧡-I know 4..

💙-And all of our friends do illegal things, are you going to denounce them?

🧡-I don’t know.. I don’t think I will.. I mean, they.. WE aren’t in excess about our “crimes”.

💙-Bob literally burned a Sushi restaurant because his delivery arrived with two minutes late.

🧡-*sigh* Listen 4, I don’t want to enter the debate right now.. Just know that I will not  denounce you except if you exceed the limits.

💙-And what is the limits?

🧡-...

 Meggy staid silent for a few minutes, she didn’t know what was the “limits” she was talking about.

She could never denounce her friends but she couldn’t let them doing horrors. 

She gets interrupted in her mind by the smoke of the cigarette of 4 right in her face.

🧡-ARRRGG 4, I HATE THAT, AND YOU KNOW IT.

💙-Sooo? What’s the “limits”?

🧡-I don’t know 4.. there’s a lot of things I can’t respond you.

💙-I guess..

 Smg4 finish his cigarette and crush it in the ledge of the bride.

💙-Well, I hope we gonna see each other yet, but not during your work hours.

 They shared a laugh and leaved, each one in an opposite direction.

———————————————

14/04/XX 20:03

 Smg4 arrived at his apartment (546 boulevard of endings), this wasn’t a very warm place, rather the opposite actually, there were only 3 pieces, a bath room, a bedroom and the kitchen and the living room was two pieces in one.

There was a big window in the living room showing the ugly streets were 4 lived, the walls weren’t very thick so he could easily hearing the traffic or his neighbor begin her husband to stop hitting her.

Smg4 directly went to his bedroom without eating anything, he throw himself on his bed and took his phone who was on his pocket.

(The phones in this AU are like normal phones but the screen is totally transparent so you can see the screen on both sides).

He saw that he received a message of one of his friends, Saiko.

——————————————————————

            20:05           67%

  🌸Saiko🌸

🩷-So? She still wants to work with the police?

💙-Yea

🩷-WHAT?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO CONVINCE HER TO NOT JOIN THEM

💙-I know..

🩷-DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?! ITS LIKE SHE SIGNED HER DEATH SENTENCE

💙-I know Saiko

🩷-WHY WE LET YOU CONVINCE HER? YOU SUCK AT IT

💙-Saiko don’t need to blame me even if we had the most convincing arguments possible she would still want to join those MF

🩷-THATS WILL BE YOUR FAULT IF SHE GET KILL

——————————————————————

 Smg4 put his phone away and looks at the stains on his roof.

He knew that Saiko said things she wasn’t thinking but it’s still painful to hear that you are the reason your friend will die, because yeah, Meggy will die, when you get in the “good” side you rarely live long.

He need something to change his mind, so he took his phone and continue the series he was watching (Robot bubblegum ep12 seasons4).

After some times he was slowly drifted to sleep when he gets a message.

——————————————————————

            20:57            23%

              💀SMG3💀

💜-Hi dude you’re awake?

💙-Yup

💜-Can we talk a bit? Im out of series to watch

💙-If you want

💜-Sooo how was the talk with Meggy?

💙-She still wants to join the police side

💜-Shit man.. I’m sorry..

💙-Its cool I couldn’t do anything anyways

💜-Why you couldn’t?

💙-Because she was very determined about being a policewoman and you know how is she when she is determined

💜-Yea it’s true..

 They didn’t sends messages for minutes who seems to be an eternity.

💜-Any name of series I could watch?

💙-Idk if you gonna like

💜-Tell me pls I couldn’t live another night without any show to watch

💙-Well Im watchin a series name “Robot bubblegum”

💜-Isn’t that a kids show?

💙-Noooooooo..?

💜-Smg4 even in message you suck at lying

💙-Shush

💜-Nuh uh

💙->:(

💜-You gonna come to the tuna?

💙-Idk if I want to see Saiko

💜-She’s not goin to kill you dtw I talked to her and she told me that she was feeling really bad about what she said

💙-How do you know she told me smt? I thought you didn’t know what Meggy decided 

💜-Yeah well I ask to Saiko if you responded to her

💙-So why you ask me?

💜-I wanted to talk to you

 Smg4 stay online a moment but didn’t answer anything, after some times, he putted away his phone and finally fell asleep.

            —————

The tuna is the name of the lair where the crew sees each other, it’s the cave of the sushi restaurant Bob burned a year ago, but now it have all the modern comfort, electricity, sofas, a tv and even a billard.

———————————————————————————————

The end of the chap1

Code color:

💙 = Smg4 

💜 = Smg3

🧡 = Meggy

🩷 = Saiko

(Sorry if you’re color blind)

[legolasghosty]

Well, I wrote a little holiday gift for @michelangelinden, who brought it to my attention the other day that I never actually posted it, I just sent them the doc. So... here it is I suppose?

This is a part of the Willie Dance Teacher AU(I say as if I've talked about it enough for that to actually mean anything to anyone). The only other posted fic in this au can be read here, but it's not really connected to the events of this one.

Word count - 2.1k Rating - G Warnings - a bit of implied past transphobia, but it's like one sentence.

Alex takes a deep breath and climbs out of his car, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. The building itself doesn’t look scary. Just a large, off-white building with the logo above the glass front doors. The inside probably looks the same as it did online: large, open rooms with wooden floors and mirrors lining one wall. It’s definitely not terrifying enough to warrant his racing heartbeat. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out. The Gay Agenda group chat he has with his friends is lighting up.

Julie Bean - Good luck Alex!!!!!! 

Candy Queen - Get in there, Mercer!

Reginald Molina - Have fun Lexi!

Guitar Boy - You got this man!

Alex chuckles at his friends’ enthusiasm. You’d think it was them heading for their first dance class in over a decade, not him. He sends back a heart emoji, then heads for the front door. He can do this. It’s not a big deal. This isn’t going to be like when he was a kid.

He’s hit with the usual wave of artificially cooled air as he enters the lobby. The mid-September breeze outside isn’t as hot as it is in the summer, but it’s still a relief to get out of it. He glances around for a door marked Studio 4, which is where the intro email he received the week before said his class would be. But the only studio door he sees is marked Center Studio, and the halls go off in both directions.

“Know where you’re going?” a voice asks.

Alex turns to see a cheerful, dark-haired woman behind the receptionist's desk. He shrugs sheepishly. “Umm, I’m looking for Studio 4?” he offers.

“Oh, you’re in Willie’s adults class,” she says, nodding in understanding. “You’re gonna take a left here, then go most of the way down. It’ll be on your right.”

“Okay, thanks,” Alex responds, giving her a grateful smile.

“No problem, you’ll love Willie, he’s great,” she says.

Alex certainly hopes so. His last dance teacher was… not great. He turns down the hall the woman indicated and quickly reaches his studio. He takes another deep breath. Reminds himself that he wants to be here. That he likes dancing. That he can get the heck out of here and never come back if this goes poorly. It’s going to be fine. Hopefully even fun.

When he enters the room, he finds about what he’d expected. Honey-colored wooden flooring, light gray walls, one covered in mirrors, and a rough circle of folding chairs set up in the middle. Alex is early, but there’s a few people already in the room. A pair of older women are seated in the circle, along with a man in his early 30’s who keeps checking his phone. The only other person in the room is a guy with long, dark hair pulled back in a bun standing in the corner and fiddling with a large speaker.

Everyone else seems to have kept their stuff with them, so he sets his backpack on the floor. Alex hesitantly takes a seat and pulls out his phone. A few more messages have come in from his friends since he checked it outside.

Bobistro - Just breathe dude. You’re gonna do great.

Flynnagain - and we’ll burn the place down if they do anything stupid

Candy Queen - What the girlfriend said.

Bobistro - … Go have fun Alex. You love dancing. It’s gonna be fine.

Alex chuckles and flips over to his solitaire app to kill time while he waits for class to start. More people trickle in around him, filling most of the chairs. Once the large clock on the wall hits 4 o'clock, the guy who’d been working on the speaker joined the circle.

“Hey everybody, I’m Willie, and welcome to the studio,” he says, giving them a wide grin. “Since most of you are new to taking classes here, I figured we’d start with some introductions.” 

Alex resists the urge to groan, icebreakers are hard. He never knows what to say.

“I know, I know,” Willie continues, raising his hands in surrender, “fancy intros are overrated and everything. But I’d like to at least know people’s names and pronouns. And if you have any pets, I would also like to know about them.”

Okay, that doesn’t seem too bad. Alex could talk about his cat for hours.

“I’ll start,” Willie adds, dropping down to sit cross-legged on the floor. “Hi, I’m Willie, my pronouns are he and they, and I have a very dramatic grey kitten named Glisandra.”

Alex feels a bit of the tension leave his shoulders as the next person starts talking. Willie is trans too. They’re open about it with their students. Alex isn’t really planning on mentioning that he wasn’t born a boy to anyone here, but it’s a relief to know that he won’t be totally alone if it does come up. And none of the other students seem weirded out by Willie using multiple sets of pronouns, so… 

He pushes down the memories of the last time he was in dance class, back in middle school. No need to remind himself of that.

“I’m Carol,” one of the older women who beat Alex here starts, pulling him back to the present. “My pronouns are… she/her?” She glances over at Willie who nods encouragingly. “Okay, good, I’m new to introducing myself that way,” she continues with a chuckle. “Oh, and I have a very old black lab named Finch.”

The woman beside Carol is Ruth, who uses she/her pronouns as well and doesn’t have any pets, though Carol protests that she might as well be a co-parent to Finch. Everyone laughs at that. Then there’s Sharon and Chris, a newly married couple who have two parakeets named Chico and Blue. After them is the middle-aged man Alex saw when he got here, Jason. He doesn’t have any pets, but does mention a 7-year-old daughter. Then is a guy in probably his mid-60s named Greg, who seems to have a whole collection of animals living on his property.

And then it’s Alex’s turn. “Hey, I’m Alex, I use he/him pronouns, and I have a grey and white cat named Cucumber.”

“Hey, another cat person!” Willie cheers, reaching over to offer Alex a fist bump. 

Alex is startled by the enthusiasm but returns the gesture. The woman on his other side(Mandy, she/her, no pets) starts talking but Alex remains focused on Willie. He’d been a bit busy freaking out before to really notice, but Willie is… really pretty. He’s still sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as they listen to their students. They aren’t really doing anything, but the light in his eyes and the easiness of his smile and the way a few strands of hair have escaped his bun to frame their face…

“I guess that makes me last,” chuckles the tiny woman beside Willie. “I’m Sandy, she/her, and I have a turtle named Dierdra.”

“Nice!” Willie exclaims, climbing easily to his feet. “Lovely to meet you all. Now let’s get to why we’re actually here.”

They go over some basic dance classroom etiquette and language, most of which Alex recognizes from his old ballet classes. The dress code isn’t nearly as strict though. He wonders if that’s just because it’s an adult class, or if that’s a policy the studio uses for all their classes. Or maybe it’s just a Willie thing. Either way, Alex is glad that the only requirements are not to wear anything too tight or that you could trip over.

“Last thing, this class is for you guys,” Willie says. “So if there’s something you really want to learn, let me know and I’ll try to make it work. Alternatively, if you have any injuries or medical issues or anything that makes certain movements hard, come tell me. We can modify stuff as needed so that everyone can do things safely. Sound good?”

It takes a second for everyone to realize he asked a question, but they all nod. Willie’s face splits into that wide grin again. They have a really pretty smile.

“Sweet, let’s warm up then,” Willie declares. “I’m sure you’re all sick of sitting here listening to me.”

That gets a chuckle out of Alex and some of his new classmates as they get up and move their chairs and bags to the edge of the room. Willie has them line up and turns on the music for a warm-up. The movements aren’t too complex or fast, so Alex finds himself able to follow along just fine. Willie is probably going simple on purpose since they don’t know anyone’s skill levels. It feels great though, waking up some of the muscles that Alex hasn’t used in years.

After the warm-up, Willie guides them all over to one wall to go across the floor. It’s more fun than Alex is expecting, the upbeat music providing a steady rhythm to skip and jump to. Willie calls encouragement and corrections as they go across. He’s so positive and full of life, and it’s infectious. Alex can’t fully remember why he was so worried about this.

They move into learning a simple combination and Alex takes the opportunity to watch his classmates a bit. A few of them clearly used to dance, and Sandy is definitely pretty active, but most of the class doesn’t seem to have any previous experience, or at least nothing recent. Alex wonders where he would fit in that lineup to someone else. People would probably guess he knows nothing. He wasn’t the worst dancer when he was a kid, but that was years ago. And he hadn’t been taking classes as a boy then.

He shifts his focus to Willie as they break into groups and take turns running the combination. The guy can’t be more than 25, which seems a bit young for a teacher, but Willie is clearly in his element. In between groups, they’ll point out little things to focus on and highlight what the group did a good job on. They’re always the first to applaud when a group finishes, even if no one did that well.

Carol questions them about it after she mixes up some of the steps. “Why the clapping if we sucked?” she asks, chuckling as she reaches for her water.

“Cause you tried,” Willie responds immediately. “We all suck at stuff, that’s just life. That’s how we learn. But you got up there and tried, and that’s worthy of applause.”

It’s a practiced answer. Clearly it’s something Willie has put a lot of thought into. Alex thinks back to his old teachers, who would glare down at them for a single misstep and only granted ‘Good job’s after recitals. Willie’s way seems a lot better. Maybe Willie had teachers like his when they were younger and wanted to be different. Or maybe Willie has always had amazing and supportive instructors.

Alex realizes he wants to know which it is. He wants to know things about Willie, about their history and what he likes and dislikes and what makes them laugh. He wants to know where they think of as home and what their favorite movie is and what he likes to do outside of dancing. Huh.

(He also really wants to meet their kitten, Glisandra, but that’s no surprise. Alex loves meeting other people’s cats.)

Willie leads them through some light yoga and stretching at the end of class as a cool-down. Alex takes a deep breath as he leans into his lunge. His ribs don’t feel as tense as they usually do. His heart rate is higher than usual, but that’s because of the exercise, not his anxiety. His limbs don’t feel so heavy. He feels… good. Relaxed. 

Huh, that’s not a common one.

“Alright, great job,” Willie says, straightening and giving them all another wide grin. “I will see you all next week, and I’m free for a bit if anyone has questions or concerns. Thank you dancers.”

Alex returns their smile, then heads over to where he left his backpack. He takes a long drink of water and heads for the door.

“Great work today, Alex,” Willie calls as he passes.

“Thanks, you’re a great teacher,” Alex responds, turning and smiling at the instructor.

Willie bows dramatically. “I live to serve,” he says.

Alex laughs. “See you next week, Willie.”

“See ya!”

Alex heads out to his car, waving goodbye to the receptionist on his way out. Once he’s in his car, he checks his phone. There’s a whole bunch of messages from his friends asking about how his class was.

Alex - Class was great! Teacher is cool! Headed home. <3

He pulls out of the parking lot and heads back toward the apartment he shares with Luke and Reggie. He’s really looking forward to class next week.

[king-minyard]

[ID: Several comments about social blunders people have made. I'm combining screenshots from multiple reblogs. In order,

Spicyratt: Once I told a teenage boy we were going to the executer after his court hearing I meant exit interviewer

leo 🌘: one time i tried to ask a customer if they wanted a receipt and i looked them in the eye and said "do you want me." i cried afterwards

🐌: as a server there was a group entering and i said "i'll come right on y'all" instead of be right with y'all 😭😭😭

Kelsey: A customer once said to me "thank you, have a nice day!" and i went to say "no problem, thank you" and just ended up saying "no thanks to you"

Hardo: I wished a customer a nice weekend even though it was tuesday

<3: once a customer thanked me and i couldn't decide between 'no worries' and 'no problem' so i yelled "no worms!" as they were walking away 😭😭

Sam: One time someone's total came to $4 and I said "that'll be 4 o'clock"

ZOEY <3: One time I was greeting a customer and I accidentally said "hi welcome home" bc [because] I wanted to go home so badly

🌙✨: One time I answered the phone at the vet clinic "hi, this is animals.... I'm sorry.... Please hold..." and then sat in silence instead of holding

ellie s: asked a patient before surgery if he was diabetic and he said no and i said "you will be" ??????

emmabritton892: When I worked at McDonald's instead of telling the customer their total I panicked and said "mmhmm get ready"

⭐🌙MoonStruck🌙⭐: This man asked me where mens boxer briefs were while carrying a lot of stuff and I responded with "sure can I hold it"

Angela Basset: One time someone held a door open for me, and I meant to say "Thank you" but instead I looked them in the eyes and said "Door"

kaine (summrs version): i was working drivethru and thought about if i did magic and when somebody pulled up i just said "check this out" and rang them up and did nothing

crowley's bentley: when i was working at Khol's i tried to ask if they wanted a bag and their receipt but I just shouted "want?" at their face rlly [really] loudly. i resigned

Yudi: I have a lisp and instead of saying hi to a customer I accidentally shouted "HARGH" at her and she went to another register

Meg🦊: Had a passenger order Tito's on one of my flights. Instead of asking single or double i confidently asked "single or tingle?"

kenzie: One time when I was working at chipotle somebody asked for lettuce and i just stuck my whole hand in the guac and didn't say a word for some reason

Nyx: I looked at a bug on the register and didn't realize an old man was standing on the other side, and I aggressively said "be gone with your bad self"

🪐: on multiple occasions, instead of saying 'have a lovely day' I'd say 'havely havely have'

@a-little-bit-bored: told a table here is your porn salad, it was supposed to be prawn and corn salad

@jamgatess: I once was reading the caller ID when answering the phone (name was Curtis) and instead of saying "how many I help you" I said "thanks for calling, how may I hurt you?" / I cried afterwards

@snackerston: Forgot the word for aroma to describe varieties of product, so I immediately substituted "flavor." Customer looked horrified and fled. Realized I was talking about bleach.

@racehill: Not me, but my friend's first job was at a deli. He looks very large and intimidating, but is actually a big softy. One of his first days he meant to say, "how would you like that [sliced or cut]" and instead said "how would you like that, slut?"

@jelly-terror: I once told a customer a cake had cocklate gash

@asliverofyou: While working at Little Caesar's someone placed an order on the phone and when they said thank you I tried to say "you're welcome" and "no problem" and I just said "you're problem"

@the-stars-never-stop-burning: I worked at a barbecue restaurant and at the end of every transaction we had to offer white or wheat bread before shouting "next guest in line!". There were a few times where I shouted "BREAD" and felt like crying every single time

@picklepals: Asked someone if they wanted ass water when i meant ice water. Also frequently asked if people wanted sour cream in their hot chocolate (whipped cream). Frequently.

@erenalias: I have so many of these actually. One time a customer called and I said I was gonna put him on hold and this dude tells me "no the fuck I'm not". Idk what I was thinking cause I immediately went "Too bad!" In my customer service voice and just transferred the line to my manager

@malum-malus: Once when I was a barista, I called out an order at the bar but got stuck between "hot cocoa" and "hot chocolate" and literally just yelled "hot cock!"

@mrsholmez: One time a guy called to place a pick up order and I could not understand him when he said his name and we were really busy so I wrote "Horse." I sent it back to the kitchen before I hung up and heard the kitchen guys go "WHO THE FUCK IS HORSE?" and I was laughing so hard I had to hang up on him. Turns out his name was Forrest. I think about him every day.

End ID.]

my favorite customer service slip ups

[sangyeonsmuse]

LIP GLOSS & SECRETS OF SUMMER | Eric Sohn

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Full Chapter Log

🐚 PAIRING: Surfer Eric x oc

🐚 GENRE | college au| summer love | slow burn| mature topics | strangers to lovers | minor love triangle

🐚 SUMMARY | Upon arriving at her new university Park Naokei finds herself falling into a world of chaos as drama unfolds with her new found friends. By the time summer break arrives newfound feelings and crushes spark amists the summer fun. Slowly our oc finds herself trapped between the likes of two guys and it all started with her occasional swimming lessons from the one and only Eric Sohn.

🐚WORD COUNT | 1.1k

🐚 important details ; Nzeka Park (neh- zeh- ka) is our main character. known as Nezza by those she calls friends while her close family calls her NeNe . Her father passed away when she was fifteen leaving her with her stepmother who she believes absolutely hates her guts. The girl has two younger siblings, both boys with the youngest being four his name is Aiki short for aikime while the oldest being eight his name was Juni, she also has an older sister named Kiome that moved away to America when she turned eighteen. Park Naokei is twenty and has a huge scar on the back of her thigh from an accident her family had long ago when she was only 5. Though she doesn't know how to swim, She's in love with the ocean and has been fascinated by it since she was a child.

authors notes: this is a multipart series with more that 20+ parts, there are few mature topics like death mentions and slight angst topics. Other than that this series is full of somer vibes and playful moments between our characters. For those reading thank you so much for coming along this ride even if at some point you stop reading.

Of course Eric had been happy that their team still brought home the victory despite the events occurring before the event, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. The girl he helped, the girl that now had his lucky towel in her clutches, and he had no idea who she was.

Pulling him from his thoughts, his friends Sunwoo and Juyeon enter his dorm as they always did before plopping down onto his couch.

"If it isn't the school lifeguard.'' Juyeon teases earning a chuckle from Sunwoo and a shake of the head from Eric, who had a slight smile on his face.

"Funny.'' he responds before pushing Juyeons legs off of his coffee table and plopping down on the couch opposite of him.

"I think it's bad enough half the girls here have their eyes on you, but now that they know you're saving girls now i know they'll have fun with that one.'' Sunwoo chimes in as he scrolled through his phone watching the countless stories and videos from yesterday's incident.

"I couldn't just let her sink to the bottom, my body just reacted.'' he shrugs

"I have to admit though she was pretty cute whoever she is.'' Juyeon adds in as he took the phone from Sunwoo and eyed the photo that was taken of her by one of soyeons friends moments after she had pushed her into the pool.

"Neither of you know her either?'' Eric asks, a slight hint of hope in his tone as his gaze shifts back and forth between the two.

"Why are you interested in her?" Juyeon smirks as he watches the latter roll his eyes at his sudden pestering.

"She has my towel.''

"The lucky towel?'' Both his friends' eyes widened at the mention of the girl having his lucky towel. He never let anyone touch it, not since it was given to him by his grandfather.

"What other towel would I be talking about?''

"Sorry to break it to you but yesterday was my first time even seeing her.'' Juyeon says apologetically leaving only sunwoo.

"Yeah, I've never seen her before until yesterday. I mean maybe ask Wooyoung? She was hanging out with one of his friends before Soyeon pushed her, so maybe they know who she is?" Sunwoo adds with a shrug

"Yeosang also seems to know her. Or i mean you could...you could always ask Sooah?'' Eric immediately cringed at the mention of sooahs name.

The previous school year

✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚

(Blue indicates a flashback)

"Are you really going to confess to her? What if she rejects you and it ruins the friendship?''

"Hyunjae stop adding even more things for him to think about, he's been putting it off for a year now.'' Kevin scolds their friend before resting his hand on Eric's shoulder.

"Just ask her, I mean you two get along really well, who knows what'll happen, there can be something there.''

"You're right.'' Eric scratches the back of his head sheepishly. He was never really one to get like this, when it came to getting good grades, or swimming or being with his friends it was never complicated, but here he was preparing to confess to a girl he had been friends with since senior year in high school and he felt more nerves than he ever had in his entire life.

"I'm sure that Sooah will feel the same, i've seen the way you two look at each other.'' Sunwoo adds further trying to help his friend regain his confidence.

That was all he needed for him to finally stop stalling and leave the rest of them in his dormitory. As he quickly made his way down the stairs of his building he tried to think of reassuring thoughts. The same thing he would do when he swam or simply sat near the water because he needed an escape. As he made his way out of the building he took his usual stone pathway that he would take whenever he would meet her at her dormitory. He had finally calmed himself down enough to reassure himself that he could do it, but as he grew closer to her building he spotted two figures leaning up against a car in the school parking lot.

Im Sooah, the girl he had liked for over two years now was kissing someone else, that someone else was Jeong Jinsoul.

That day eric had done something he had felt guilty for from the moment he made the call

"Hello netizens I think I have some information that'll give you the scandal of the year.''

When the news spread and the photos of her and Jinsoul out at the lake behind the uni spread then everything seemed to fall apart for Sooah. Every girl in school grew distant from her and Jinsoul had broken off her and Sooahs secret relationship. Her parents forced her to stay away from her and out of pure guilt Eric began to grow distant to her. She had the rest of her year ruined and it was all because of him. All because he couldn't accept the fact that she could never be with him. And he was the only one that had known what he had done.

Dont hate Eric for this yall he made a selfish mistake 🙂‍↔️

[waywardxrhea]

Part Forty-Three: We're in the Endgame Now

[slow burn romance between Steve Rogers and SHIELD agent Emma Baker]

Warnings: 18+, contains humor, fluff, mental health, family trauma, romance, angst, language, violence.

installment list

Word count: 2.2k

An unexpected guest gives Emma the most hope she's had in five years.

One morning a few weeks later Emma and Steve are driving to Brooklyn so they can go to a few bakeries to decide on a cake for the wedding. They are almost to the first bakery when Steve gets a phone call. "Hey Nat," he starts off the call with.

From the driver's side, Emma glances over at Steve and notices his expression of concern at the call, so when he hangs up, she asks, "What's up? Is it something with Clint?"

"No, but you need to turn around and get us to the Compound ASAP," he tells her with a sense of urgency in his voice.

Quickly, Emma hits the brakes and turns the truck in the direction of the Compound. "Is everything okay? Answer carefully, your answer determines how fast I drive."

Steve chuckles at the joke and responds with, "There's been a development and she needs us there yesterday pretty much."

"Got it," Emma replies and puts more pressure on the gas pedal. While she drives, Steve calls the bakeries they had appointments at and apologizes for the cancellation but tells them an emergency came up.

Once they get to the Compound and start to head inside, Emma sees an unfamiliar brown van outside and wonders to herself who it belongs to. They rush into the main conference room to see Natasha sitting at her desk looking exhausted watching a very stressed-out man pacing the room while muttering to himself and eating a sandwich. The man is Scott Lang, the one that Sam and Emma fought all those years ago when Emma first became an Avenger.

When Lang sees Steve, he shouts, "Steve! Cap! Captain. America. Thank God you're here."

"Scott, what's going on?" Steve asks.

Not knowing where to start, Lang starts rambling. "Well what happened was that I was doing a routine trip in and out of the Quantum Realm with Hank and them, but then when I get out it's five years later, my daughter is all grown up, and half the population is gone?"

"Quantum what...? Scott, calm down," Steve tells him, putting his hands up. Lang stops pacing for a few seconds and Steve asks, "Can you go a bit slower?"

"Steve, I've been trying to get him to calm down this whole time," Nat tells him. Emma makes her way over to Natasha and gives her a hug before taking a seat to listen to what Lang has to say.

"Okay," he says and takes a deep breath while running his hands over his face. "Has anyone here studied quantum physics?"

Steve and Emma send each other a confused look while Nat replies with, "Just to make conversation, why?"

With that answer, he runs his hand through his hair and continues with, "All right, so five years ago, right before...before Thanos, I was in a place called the Quantum Realm. It's like its own microscopic universe. To get in you have to be extremely small. Hope...she was my...uh...she was supposed to pull me out of there, but then Thanos happened and she was gone while I got stuck in there."

"Oh wow..." Emma mumbles.

"That must have been a long five years alone in there," Natasha tells him sadly.

"That's the thing," Lang tells her. "For me, it was five hours. The rules of the Quantum Realm are different from the rules here. Everything there is unpredictable."

Steve scrunches his eyebrows and asks, "What are you talking about? That doesn't make sense."

"What I'm saying is that time works differently there, the problem is we can't navigate it. I just...I can't stop thinking about it though, what if we could somehow control the chaos and navigate it? What if there was a way to enter the Quantum Realm at one point and exit at another point in time? Like...like before Thanos."

"Wait hold on, are you talking about a time machine?" Steve asks incredulously. He had officially heard it all with this theory of Lang's...

"No, no, not a time machine. It's more like a...uh..." Emma and Nat raise their eyebrows and give each other a look that Lang notices. He sighs and admits, "Yeah like a time machine...it's crazy, I know, but I just...I can't stop thinking about it."

"Scott," Natasha interrupts him. "I get emails from a raccoon, nothing is crazy anymore."

"So who do we talk to about this?" Lang asks.

Emma, Steve, and Nat give each other a look, knowing who they need to get in contact with. Emma is the first to speak up, saying, "Stark." She pauses and adds, "He isn't gonna like us coming asking for this though. He hasn't said anything to me since the day they signed me back on and Pepper is usually MIA too which is understandable, they wanna have a normal life but..."

"I get that he wants a normal life, but this is the first lead we've had in years," Natasha tells her. "We have to at least try."

"Nat's right," Steve agrees.

"Well then let's get going!" Lang shouts with a smile on his face.

So the four of them head out to Nat's car to drive to Tony and Pepper's. Steve and Nat sit in the front and discuss the plan of what to say to Tony while Emma and Lang make small talk in the backseat. "Hey, I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I just thought I'd apologize for what happened between us before," he tells Emma.

Knowing that he was talking about what happened with her, him, and Sam and knowing that Sam never wanted Steve to know, Emma tries to cut him off from elaborating on the story more with a quick, "Oh no worries."

"No, really, I feel bad that I ruined your things and-"

Emma makes a motion for him to cut it out and this is when Steve takes notice of the conversation happening in the back. He looks in the rearview mirror at Emma and smirks, asking, "What's going on back there, is everything okay?" To up the ante, he adds, "Scott, you haven't met Emma yet, have you? She's my fiancee."

Lang scrunches his eyebrows and replies, "Well I haven't interacted with her in a long time, but-"

Emma quickly steps in with, "Yeah, it's been a crazy day so far, we haven't had time to talk until now."

Lang finally gets the drift and looks to Steve and asks, "Oh so she doesn't know you know does she?"

Steve chuckles as Emma asks, "What doesn't she know you know?"

"That I know what happened between you, Sam, and Scott," Steve replies.

Emma's jaw drops and she asks, "So he told you? Damnit, Wilson, I was gonna take that secret to the grave with me!"

"He did in fact tell me," Steve says. "I hear Scott here totally kicked your ass."

Emma scoffs and defends herself, saying, "Not to speak ill of the dead, but Sam totally got whooped worse than I did!"

"That's just because you're more of a long-range fighter. My skills are more close range," Lang tells Emma. She laughs and after that, the whole car engages in the talk about the plan to convince Tony to help them out with their idea.

Before they know it they reach the Stark property. As they pull up and get out of the car they see Tony carrying a now roughly five-year-old Morgan in his arms. At the sight of everyone, Tony sends Morgan inside so she doesn't have to be a part of the conversation. Emma follows Steve and Natasha up to where Tony is and can tell Tony doesn't look happy to see them all, as she expected.

Once Morgan is inside, Steve, Natasha, Emma, and Lang meet Tony on the porch to discuss what happened to Lang as well as his idea. After explaining the rough concept, Lang tells Tony, "I...I know, it sounds crazy but..."

Trying to encourage Tony to help, Steve adds, "Tony, after everything you've seen throughout the years, is anything really impossible?"

At this, Tony starts mouthing off some scientific terms that go straight over Emma's head. She tries not to show her confusion so they have a better chance at getting help though. He ends his statement with, "In layman's terms, you're not coming home."

"Lang did," Emma retorts.

"No," Tony says sternly, pointing a finger at Emma and then focusing his attention back on Lang. "He accidentally survived. There's a huge difference there."

"But," Emma tries to get in, getting desperate for help getting everyone back.

"It's a billion to one cosmic fluke and now you want to do a...what are you guys calling it?"

"A...a time heist?" Lang replies.

"Of course! Why didn't we think of this before some of us tried to move on with our lives? Oh right, because it's laughable and impossible."

Steve interrupts his snarky comments and tells him, "The stones are in the past. If we go back we can get them."

Natasha piggybacks on his statement, saying, "Then we snap our own fingers and bring everyone back."

"Or we screw it up more than it already is," Tony smarts back.

"I don't think we would," Steve retorts.

"I gotta say, I did miss that giddy optimism. Say, Baker, tell me this: is he always like this even at home? Taking charge, trying to be the optimist in everything?"

"If it wasn't for Steve's optimism and support I wouldn't be standing here right now, so I'd watch it if I were you, Stark," Emma replies, getting fed up with his attitude.

Tony puts his hands up and continues his thoughts with, "Well even with all of that optimism, having high hopes won't help if there's no possible way to go through with your idea. If we try, I think we all die."

"Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel!" Lang chimes in. "You know, no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Scott," Tony tells him, putting up his hand. He leans forward in his chair and asks, "Are you really going to sit there and tell me that your plan to bring back half the population of the universe is based on Back to the Future?"

Lang scoffs and replies, "What? No!"

Emma rolls her eyes as she turns to lean on the railing and lets out a quiet sigh of frustration. Steve subtly steps back to where she is and rubs her arm to comfort her and help her destress before she blows up on Tony.

Natasha finally speaks up and tells him, "Tony. We have to take a stand."

"We did take a stand five years ago and look where we are now," he replies.

Lang looks at Tony and then glances inside, saying, "Look, I know you have a lot on the line here. You've got a wife and a daughter, but I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did. But now...now we have a chance to bring them all back and you're telling me that you won't even try?"

"That's right, Scott, I can't."

The frustration building up inside of Emma finally comes to a tipping point and she whips around to give Tony an earful but then Morgan comes back out onto the porch and jumps into Tony's lap telling him that she came there to rescue him. Not wanting Morgan to have to witness arguing like she did as a child, Emma balls up her fist and bites her cheek. Steve takes her balled-up fist and eases his hand into hers and squeezes to let her know she did the right thing in not yelling at him.

Tony picks Morgan up and informs everyone that the table is set for everyone, and Steve in a last-ditch attempt to sway him says, "Look, I get it. I'm happy that you have this life now, but this...this is a second chance. We have to take it."

"This is my second chance," Tony tells him and kisses Morgan's shoulder. He then nods his head at Emma and says, "And there's your second chance. I don't see what the problem is here."

"The problem is-" Steve tries but is interrupted.

"Ah, ah. If you don't talk shop you can stay for lunch. Otherwise..." Tony tells him before heading inside with Morgan.

"I guess we'll be on our way then," Steve replies and starts to walk back to the car they came in.

"Darn, I was hoping for a meal," Lang mumbles as they walk back.

As they get into the back seat, Emma tells him, "When we get back I can cook whatever you'd like. Maybe if we get some food in us we can think better."

Lang nods but then looks to the front seat and says to Steve, "We aren't giving up, are we? We need this to happen."

"No we aren't stopping, but we need to do this right, and to do that we're gonna need a really big brain..."

Lang looks at him and scrunches his eyebrows, asking, "Bigger than Tony Stark's?"

"I have someone in mind," Natasha replies and pulls out her phone to try and get a hold of Bruce Banner.

next chapter

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