#the 10 foot section hes talking about is only half of it

[is-this-yuri]

[spokenforyou]

sylus x fem reader

PERSONAL TRAINER

synopsis: sylus is your new personal trainer, but he’s only a man with needs ;)

warnings: spanking, vulgarity, nsfw, dirty talk, f! oral receiving, mirror and wall intercourse, unprotected intercourse, cream pie

wc: 3k

[minors don’t interact… by choosing to interact with this content, you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate and nsfw despite warnings!]

Elevate your training.

You’ve recently hired a personal trainer for the gym, helping you get leaner and more toned. You’ve been working out for years, feeling empty without it. However, you figured it’d be nice to hire someone to help you elevate your training and take you to the next level.

Elevate your training, elevate your training.

While entering the gym, you chant manifestation forms. You’ve recently hired a personal trainer for the gym, helping you get leaner and more toned. You’ve been working out for years, feeling empty without it. However, you figured it’d be nice to hire someone to help you elevate your training.

You walk towards the automatic doors and greet the front desk woman before heading to your favorite section. Today was the day you met your trainer.

Only have been chatting through text to schedule when to meet, no idea who it is. But you know it’s a man.

You certainly could’ve been more comfortable with a woman, but he has good credits and reviews. Where you work out is exclusive and very expensive, so whoever you hired certainly has money and experience.

You put your bag in a locker and grab your water, heading to where the equipment is.

As you step foot inside, you scope the room for the mystery personal trainer. Seeing multiple men, you’re not sure who it may be until one locks eyes with you.

He has silver hair, what looks like being red eyes, sharp features, an insane body, and tall. At your height, he’d tower over you like a skyscraper.

Might as well see if this is who it is… You think to yourself as you walk over to him; he smiles as you do so, confirming it’s your trainer.

You stand in front of him and smile, “You’re Sylus, right? The personal trainer?” I look over his form, a black compression shirt hugging his muscles perfectly.

He nods “Sylus. You must be Y/N?”

You nod back and reach a hand out, his returning in your shake. Hands much bigger than your own, and what seems to be colder.

“I’m glad to be working with a personal trainer; I hope we can work well together.” You smile.

He smirks as he looks down at you. “Oh, I’m sure we will.” I don’t overthink his words, and I nod. “Let’s get started, yeah?”

Sylus leads me over to the mats, where he motions with his head. I step on them and look at him. “Stretches first, right?”

He nods, his gaze dropping to your body. Your light blue set contrasts perfectly with your tan skin, almost making you glow. He licks his lips and looks away, trying to keep professional.

You do some quick shoulder and arm stretches, before moving to your leg stretches, repeating both and ending with a neck roll.

“Good. Now today we’re gonna work on legs and glutes.” He smiles down at me. “Let’s start with a warm-up barbell hip thrust.” Sylus walks over to the hip bench and motions for me to sit down. I do as instructed, and he grabs the barbell, hovering it over my hips. My eyes follow his arms as he lowers it, setting a good weight on it.

He catches my eyes and smirks; “See something you like, sweetie?” I shake my head in denial and place my hands on the bar. Sylus only chuckles and pats your hip as he backs away.

“10-15 reps, go.” He stands as he watches me. I lift it with ease, my body accustomed to lifting. After about a minute and a half, I finish and lower myself back down to the floor.

“Good girl, now one more set.” Sylus smiles and you get back into position, pushing through a second set. You finish that one and he nods before pulling the barbell off you.

He has you run through lunges, cardio, deadlifts, and kickbacks. By the end of the exercises, you’re panting and nearly about to collapse. He’s certainly a damn excellent trainer.

Sylus watched you intensely, his red eyes never leaving your body as you pushed through every exercise. His gaze particularly stuck on your ass, the shape of them in your set, and how it moved. Occasionally he joined in on the workouts, just to keep you going and stare at you. He was star-struck.

“So, Y/N… Last thing I’m gonna have you do.” He speaks up as you down your water. You sigh, but know you have to finish.

“Yeah?” You look up at him as he stands before you, your eyes running over his face.

“Weighted squats. Think you can do it?” He has a grin on his face and you lift your brows.

“Not sure, but I can try.” You stand up from the bench you were sitting on, legs wobbling, and Sylus grabs you quickly. His hand rests around your waist as he chuckles.

“Here, let me help you, sweetie. I’ll help you with the squats, too.” You nod at his words and he walks you over to where the weights are.

Grabbing a 35-pound dumbbell, he places it in your hands and moves behind you. You breathe deeply as you hold it, the weight not being an issue, but your legs.

“15 reps sweetie…” He whispers in your ear, shivers running down your body. His words flow through you and you don’t even notice how he’s pressed himself against you, his hands on your hips.

“Sylus, what are you doing?” I turn my head to look at him.

“Gonna help you, now go.” He pats your hips and you immediately squat down, the dumbbell weighing you down. You pull yourself back up with an exhale and he rubs your hips before you repeat it.

You get through five reps before your legs wobble. Sylus catches on and moves even closer, his body now fully pressed against you. Feeling him, your eyes widen but you try to not pay mind to it, hoping to stay professional.

He smirks as he feels his growing arousal press against your back. Each time he squats with you, it rubs him the right way, increasing his need.

After three more reps, you finally speak. “Sylus, do you have something in your pocket or something?” At your words, he chuckles darkly.

“No, that’s just me, sweetie. Problem?” He wraps his arms around your waist, head sneaking down to your neck. He gently bites your ear lobe and you nearly drop the dumbbell on your feet.

“I…” is all you whisper out as he lowers the dumbbell to the floor; he kisses your neck gently, smiling against your skin.

“Sylus… There are people around.” My eyes flutter as I look around the gym, people scattered throughout as they exercise.

“So what? Let them see how bad I want you.” He practically growls against your neck, biting down on it. You let out a quiet whine and he smirks.

Sylus pulls away after leaving a few marks where he pleases, his eyes looking around the gym. “Mmm, on second thought…” He moves from behind you and takes your hand, dragging you to the bathroom. He finds a singular bathroom and allows you to step in; walking in behind you, he closes the door and locks it.

“Sylus, I don’t think.” He cuts you off by pushing you against the wall and kissing you hungrily. Your eyes widen and you flutter them shut as you accept him. Sylus smiles against your lips before he pulls your leg up to him; you wrap your arms around his neck and he lifts you with one arm.

Holding you in his grasp, his hardness presses against you through the fabric of his shorts, and he groans. Pulling his lips away from yours, he stares into your eyes.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N… I’m normally strictly professional, but fuck, I’ve gotta have you.” He chuckles and rubs his thumb along your thigh.

“You’re suppose you’re cute too.” You giggle, teasing him. Sylus lifts a brow and flashes a cocky smirk.

“You suppose?” He asks and grinds his hips up towards you to make you change your wording. “Hm?”

You giggle, and he hides a smile. “Yeah, I suppose. Seems like someone’s pretty excited?” Finishing your sentence, he grinds up against you again, pressing his face in your neck with a groan.

“Mmm, fuck… I need you so bad, wrapped around me.” Sylus bites down on your neck and you moan quietly.

“Have me.” You moan in his ear, the music in the gym playing loud enough to block our sounds out.

Sylus smiles against your skin before he sets you down, his hands immediately going to your sports bra, yanking it off. His eyes drop to your chest and he flutters his eyes before squeezing them together. Thumbs brushing against your nipples.

You let out a breathy whine, and he smiles down at you. “Everything about you is perfect.” He leans down and pulls you closer, his mouth attacking your breast, tongue swiping and swirling around your nipple.

“Sylus…” You moan and cover your mouth, the other hand tugging at his silver hair. Sylus pulls away and yanks your hand from your mouth.

“No baby, let me hear your pretty moans.” He whispers before biting your nipple.

“Sylus, people…” you whine and he chuckles.

“Sweetie… I own this gym, if they have a problem they can come to me.” Sylus purrs against you before switching to the other peak, giving it the same attention.

Your eyes widen, and now it all makes sense. Snapping you out of your thoughts, he kisses down your stomach and tugs your shorts down, the cold air giving you goosebumps.

“Lace panties for the gym? You had a feeling, hm?” He chuckles and kisses your clothed clit.

Rolling your eyes, you give him a playful smack to the cheek.

“No, shut up.” You giggle and he spreads your legs, pulling you off the wall a bit to access you more easily.

“I’d like to have you make me…” Sylus kisses up your legs until he reaches his destination. The smell of your vanilla lotion filling his senses, his favorite scent. He finally gets to the middle of your legs, his tongue licking a stripe up your panties, your breath catching in your throat.

He looks up at you before sliding his fingers along the sides and pulling them down your legs. You look down at him as he does so and you watch as his eyes nearly pop out of his head. He groans at the sight and runs his fingers along your wetness.

“All this for me?” Sylus whispers, his shorts tightening almost painfully. Crimson eyes meet yours and you nod. He rushes to you, tongue running along your folds.

“Ah…” Your eyes close shut and you moan quietly; he dives in deeper and focuses on your clit. His tongue worked expertly on you as you expected it would.

Sylus lifts a leg to rest on his shoulder so he can feel you deeper with his tongue, his groans vibrating against you, pushing you closer to the edge.

After about three minutes of his attention, you feel your legs shaking and he pulls away. You groan, holding back a whine as he stands back up.

“Sorry baby, as much as I want you on my tongue, I want you to cum on my cock even more.” He smirks and slides off his shirt, his muscles bulging and his abs catching your attention.

You run a hand along his body and he chuckles.

“Nice huh?” Sylus slides his shorts down, followed by his boxers, his leaking cock springing out. He smirks for the millionth time today and wraps a hand around his length, stroking it. You gasp under your breath.

“Sylus… Is it gonna fit?” You watch him and he moves closer to you, his length bobbing against your stomach.

“Mmm, we’ll make it fit, sweetie. Now where do you think we should do this?” He growls, running his hands along your sides.

“Against the wall should be fine?” You look down at his body once again and he nods, your stomach glistening with his pre-cum.

“Come here, then…” He squats down a bit and lifts you, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist. Holding you with one hand, he hovers you over his cock before rubbing the swollen head against you.

He groans and drops his head into the crook of your neck. Leaning back, he looks into your eyes and whispers, “Ready?”

You nod and breathe deeply to prepare yourself for the insane stretch to come. Sylus leans in and connects your lips as he lowers you down on him. Keeping your lips intact, you both gasp together before he lets out a long groan. The tightness squeezing him like a glove.

“Fuck Y/N…” He continues to slide into you; he finally bottoms out and holds you with two hands now as he waits for you to relax around him.

“Relax for me, baby… Breathe.” He kisses you gently and you finally loosen around him. “Good…” Sylus smiles softly and lifts you before sliding you back down. Letting out a string of groans, he presses you against the wall and bounces you.

“Sylus…” You let out the whiniest moan you’ve ever made. No man has ever made you feel so good and he knows that.

“Feels so good, baby. Made for me…” He moans and attacks your neck as he bounces you. Neither of us cares who hears us; all we care about is us, and how we feel together.

Sylus growls and pulls you off the wall, bringing you to the sink. He slides you off him with a groan and lets you down, spinning you to face the mirror.

He stands behind you and runs his hands along your body before placing a hand on your back and bending you. You let him lean you over and he slides back into your heat with ease and a new angle.

“Shit…” you both mutter and he pulls out enough to leave his tip in before slamming back inside you. Your eyes lock with his and he nods, hands cupping your breasts.

“Look at you… So cock drunk.” Sylus pulls his hand away before spanking your ass, leaving a red and stinging mark.

He picks up speed as he watches your expressions change and the moans fly out of your mouth.

“Anyone fuck you like this before?” He growls and you shake your head frantically. “Mmm, that’s what I thought. You’re mine now baby…” He spanks you again and feels his body heat.

“Fuck… I’m close.” He pulls you back up and stands you up, your back against his chest as he continues to thrust inside you. His enormous arms wrap around your stomach and he presses kisses to your neck.

“Me too…” You let out a whisper and he bites down on your neck, leaving a mark.

“Birth control?” He feels his orgasm quickly approaching, the squeezing of your walls not helping.

“Mmm…” You moan out, nodding and he feels a weight lift off his shoulders, not wanting to pull out.

“Cum with me, princess,” Sylus whispers in your ear and reaches down to circle your clit. Your back arches against his chest and he squeezes you as you cum. He finishes right after you, he moans your name, and you feel wetness slip out of you as he fucks you through your orgasms.

His cock kisses your cervix, begging for entry as he shoots inside your womb. Sylus’ arms lose their tight hold on you as he finally stills.

“Fuck…” You drop your head while you pant, his cock softening inside of you. He chuckles and lifts your head up and to the side so he can lock lips with you.

Sylus kisses you tenderly for about a minute before he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Quickly wiping your lip, he slides out of you with a groan.

Your eyes flutter and you clutch your stomach, missing the feeling of him. He chuckles, and he gets down onto his knees; your eyes widen as he moves his head between your legs. You feel his tongue wiping along your cum soaked pussy and you nearly collapse.

He cleans you with his tongue before standing back up and wiping his lips. “We taste so good together.” He smirks and leans in to kiss you once more, the taste of both of you on your tongue filling your body with warmth.

You pull away and chuckle. “You’re so filthy.”

He shrugs and nods; “Yeah, I am.” He then grabs your clothes and hands them to you. “You know… I’d like to keep you. I know we just met, but god you’ve already got me wrapped around your finger.” Sylus chuckles as he watches you slide on your clothes; he follows your movements.

“I’ve never fucked someone after meeting them. I’m never normally that type. So, I wouldn’t mind keeping you, either.” You giggle and put back on your shoes.

His heart warms at your words. He was never really the type to hook up with random people either, but there was something about you he couldn’t get enough of.

“Good, then it’s settled. You’re mine and I’m yours.” He pulls you closer as he finally slides on his shoes as well. “Now let’s pretend that we didn’t just fuck in here, yeah?” Sylus leads you to the door.

“Fuck it.” He looks down at you, your wide eyes looking up at him in horror as he opens the restroom door. Leading you out, no one even bats an eye; all busy working on themselves, and you let out a breath of relief.

“See, no one even noticed, now let me take you home.” Sylus smiles down at you and you grab your water bottle quickly before heading out of the gym.

“All mine…” He whispers, kissing your forehead in front of the receptionist as he leads you out.

“Yours…”

[shanastoryteller]

happy birthday!! i would love to read something about zagreus!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Thanatos has seen the courtyard maintained by Queen Persephone, is well aware of the poms that liter the realm thanks to her influence, but this is something different.

"Than?" Zagreus asks nervously.

Even in Elysium the trees and fields are washed out, half there and half not, ethereal in the way of loss rather than beauty.

This is lush.

There are fields of strange fruits and vegetables growing, acres of rolling hills and forests, all of if glittering as brightly as the gemstones that litter the realm. There are people down there, working and planting, and others talking and laughing, buildings carved from stone and built from mudbricks and grown from twisting oaks.

They've stepped out onto a balcony, high enough to see for miles, and nowhere in the underworld is there this much space. It's all rooms and sections, constantly shifting, nothing allowed to just be be. Except here.

"Say something," Zagreus says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You're making me nervous."

"Where are we?" he asks. They're still in the underworld, but in none of the three levels or on the river, and that's all that should be, all that should exist. There is nothing else.

Zagreus swallows. "Um, well, it doesn't have a name exactly. Or it does, I guess. Everyone keeps calling it the Prince's Court, even though I think that's stupid."

The Prince's Court. He and Megaera had heard whispers of that. They thought it referred to Zagreus, and his growing power, and the people he kept close. Him, and Meg, and Dusa, except it turns out it had nothing to do with them at all.

"Have you lost your mind?" he demands, finally tearing his eyes away to glare at Zagreus. "Doing something like this in Hades's realm - he's going to kill you and make it stick-"

"This isn't my father's realm," he interrupts and Thanatos sputters. "No, I'm serious. Stop freaking out and focus."

"I'm not freaking out," he retorts but he grudgingly listens, if only so he can then continue yelling without interruption.

Hades's power is not limitless, as Zagreus has demonstrated so many times, but it is ever present, settling like a cloak over his domain and keeping it tightly within his grasp, not letting anything escape his attention or control.

Thanatos frowns then stretches his senses further.

It's only Zagreus.

The power he'd felt from his friend and brother and the person he loved most, something that he'd once had to press close and breathe in to feel and then later had ballooned to a comfortable presence that hung around Zagreus's shoulders.

They're standing so close now that he hadn't even thought it was strange that his power was all around them. But it's not because of that. It's because in this place, of open spaces and flourishing fruits and smiling people, it's Zagreus who holds it steady.

Not Hades.

"Why would you do this," he whispers, "why wouldn't you just challenge him for the throne if that's what you wanted?"

This is so much worse. An inevitable civil war, father against son, in a way so much bigger than their fights on the surface.

He makes a face. "Why would I want that? The underworld is depressing. And dealing with all those spirits is a lot of work. This is better. Besides, then I'd just inherit his curse, and then I'd have to work my way around it all over again. No thanks."

"What are you talking about?" he demands. "You're cursed too."

Zagreus grins, bright and happy and Thanatos can't return it because this is insane and he's insane and it's all going to end in misery. "Race you to the mountaintop."

Before Thanatos can say how ridiculous that is, a chaos rift appears behind Zagreus and he steps back and slips inside it, the rift closing before Thanatos can follow him.

Chaos is involved in this too? His grandparent, who has never take an interest in the affairs of the underworld and who has enough power to tip the scales in any direction they choose.

This just gets worse and worse.

[ahordeofwasps]

WIP Questionnaire Tag

I've been tagged by the terrific @tabswrites! Thanks for the tag! I'll answer the questions for Crying Wolf.

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @mary-is-writing, @afoolandathief, @amewinterswriting, @space-writes, and open tag! I'll leave a blank set of questions under "read more."

Now, onto those questions!

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

I would say Chapter 1, wherein chaos hits a tavern, but that chapter got scrapped and rewritten. The first part that is still in the WIP is Chapter 2, which is from the perspective of a minor villain.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Definitely a Church of the Cosmic Skull song! If I were to pick one, I'd go with Movements in the Sky:

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

That's like asking me if I have a favourite child.

That being said, probably Ogwut or Daisy. Ogwut's a giant cinnamon roll, so it's hard not to like him. Daisy unexpectedly wound up having a sense of humour and resourcefulness that got me attached to her quite quickly.

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

I don't know. Haven't really thought about that. I guess art?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Pacing. The first half of the story is way too slow and I'm trying to fix it at the moment.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

There are a lot of animals and they're all important to the story. Wolves, sheep, Brutus the dog, birds, and possums are the most prominent though.

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Either on foot or, in one section of the story, being carried upon Ogwut's shoulders.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I'm working on draft 6 which involves rewriting the first half. I'm on Chapter 10 (out of like 60).

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Probably how wild the plot sounds whenever I try to summarize it. The main villain is a lonely military A.I. who ressurrects the boy who cried wolf as an undead cyborg. The boy wants to kill everyone in his village because they let him die and the A.I. will do anything to help him. Anything. There's a robot who believes he's human... and is also 10 feet tall. He wants people to not kill each other. There's a gravity worshipping cult that wants to kill all three but only knows about two.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

To get it finished and to share it somehow. Not entirely sure how. Maybe I'll attempt to pursue tradpub (when it's legal for me to do so), maybe I'll just share it to the internet. Not sure at this point.

1. What is the first part of your WIP that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. What are your favorite characters that you made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think your fan base would share?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (Ex. Trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

[sunskate]

Jean-Luc practice day 2 -

going backwards- catching up to parts of yesterday's FD practice i missed - lol about Olivia, "looks like she has a new costume for a Dune program" like he's learning about it for the first time "very very elegant" said wow about their spacing in their one foot - that it's a lot harder than people know, keeping it the same throughout - said he loved one foot sections, as one might have seen with the one foot sections he and Kaitlin created - "you can see people's skills - the ability to stay connected while not touching is so challenging, but when done right is so amazing"

how much Tim has improved and stepped into a leading role in that team - finding their groove as a team. finding he's enjoying their equality and connection. teams have different kinds of connections - a romantic one or an intense one - there's not a right one, only what's right for you

when you're the first to skate, the ice is more slippery

physically, towards the end of the FD, it's so hard to be sharp, to be clear on all movements, to keep that still dancing. Olivia and Tim- said he was impressed with their choreo lift and their one foot - rare for a team to be able to skate so close and have that edge control

Tkachenko/Kiliakov - their FD feels much more in their wheelhouse than the RD. the first impression and last impression (1st and last 10 seconds) so important. their one foot - yo yo-ing and scratching of toe picks throughout. talking about how there's so much thought process to get clean turns and mentions is the skater looking down? -- "i know if it's clean or not clean, but i want you to make me believe it's clean by the way you're performing it"

"from personal experience, it's hard to find 2 programs that feel comfortable. to find 2 *really* good programs is rare in most teams ... there's always one that's a little more uncomfortable"

Morozov/Chen - i guess when skater/coaches like Tanith or Carol Lane are commentating, they don't usually say, oh these are my students - but is it a little odd not to disclose it? like Jean-Luc worked with the MIDA teams, so he must have worked with M/C?

praised their control and spacing on their one foot, that it's good quality skating in the step sequences - that it's not tight. Annabelle in particular creates a groundedness

"Annabelle's use of her eyes throughout her performing is piercing in the best way possible. it is giving me so much command. i wish she used that pierce a little bit more towards him to create that connection together. now they are a new team, so that does make things more challenging , to even feel vulnerable enough to do that [...] but i would love for her to use that intensity towards him some more because what Jeffrey emits is a strong form of skating skill but i lose him a little bit"

"he looks quite uncomfortable with her knees in his face" the upside down lift lol

M/C had a moment when they laughed "and that's when they let down the wall of trying to have that connection and when you can get to that place where you're just open to the experience with your partner, then you're really allowing for a great communication without having to speak"

Fabbri/Ayer - "they're both so individually strong - you can see with the way they cover the ice. what i'd love to see is more refinement across the board - the expression, the connection, obvs the chemistry between the two of them is quite strong. but that refinement it's that last little bit - where you really see every single toe, every time that foot leaves the ice it is finished, and i want to see that"

in the spin: "even structurally there, seeing Paul's shoulders come down just a little bit, i need half an inch, an inch - and that just makes it look just that level of effortlessness"

omg, then he answers a Q about what RD themes he wants to see: "oh my god, all of them. i'd actually love to go back to a basic dance style. love to see a waltz. i understand that from the audience perspective that can be a little boring (no it's not) but i do miss the partnering requirements that come from the compulsory dances. nowadays you see a lot of open Killian, High Killian, hand in hand, and i'm missing just dance frame across the board from the majority of the teams that i watch now, like we're losing just a little bit of that basic partnering skill set and that essence of what made ice dance ice dance. just a little bit. i'm okay with it at times, but i want to feel that dance the whole time"

Davis/Smolkin: i'm going to just transcribe because this is so different from the common perception of this team -- "this team can be a dark horse" "wow, that is incredibly hard" - about their combo lift.

"in terms of partnering skills and strengths this team is starting to emit what i already like" "they do have a wild quality to them which i do really admire. it makes it exciting to watch, and it's not contained now. i think what i'd love to see is it refined a little bit more. using that wildness and putting it in a direction more together more in the same direction so there isn't like levels of miscommunication"

about their choreo slide: "wow - that was also very hard. this looks like it's going to be a hard program. like technically very challenging"

"again i look so much for these teams's footwork cause that's when you're going to start seeing teams get exposed on partnering ability and whatnot. a team that can do footworks with depth -speaking of depth wow like that is skating in my opinion" (their step sequence)

"i want to see him let it go more. there's such an elegance and grace to what they're both creating, with it still being edgy. wow, sick- what? (ChLi, i think?) this is so hard. you can probably hear the excitement in my voice this is extremely different than what I saw on the RD from this team. wow in terms of dark horse, i think this is what i'm talking about. wow exciting - that is stimulating in the best way possible for me. i'm not sold on the costumes personally. what i'm seeing produced skating wise, i like it a lot"

then twitter Q: how do you identify good skating skills in a team? "first off i think clarity. when you see that a team knows where they want to go (gave the example of twizzles - where if the team's not on the same page, their trajectories can take them 10 feet in different directions) "being super clear to move as a unit and what that takes is like both partners to be able to have a strong leader and follower"

Olivia Smart and Tim Dieck "i think that that's something that they're learning, and i think that what I'm seeing from them now is that stepping into it. as you saw with the Georgians Diana and Gleb, i think especially in their footwork sequence the diagonal that's a perfect example of great skating skill. you're seeing edge quality without it affecting the other partner but bringing them with you, and you're able to shine in all and every way. so i hope that answers your question"

Q about how clean turns are judged: says everyone knows a squeaky clean turn, but even if the turn itself is clean, if the entry and exit edge isn't solid - like he wants it so stable that if he gave you a push you wouldn't budge. and that comes from the hip knee and ankle. "i need the weight to go down in my ankle, keeping myself grounded"

Chock/Bates "have such a refinement to what they do. their production in terms of their elements the in betweens, every single thing matters" "i love the space that they create too in between on the skating skill mark" "i think the performance quality that Madi Chock brings to the table is absolutely exquisite. they are world champions for a reason, but the way that she plays with Evan, she plays with the camera, she plays with the judges, plays with the audience like it's all a game in the best way possible for her and how Evan fits into that pocket"

how to get into +4s and +5 GOEs - "i need it to be seamless, i want you to make me feel something. how does the music make you move, and how does that align with the way you're performing it" "the majority of time it's a feeling, it's not just is it a good element or not" that makes the judge feel something to make them want to give you higher GOE (so it is vibes lol sort of) (but also, this FD of theirs so far looks very good. and her costume is gorgeous) he called it classy and elegant and that they're in an excellent place for October

Fear/Gibson: are they interpreting the beat or more the feeling in Beyonce's voice, because if so, they could hold some of their movements longer. right now, not clear. they're a consistent team that makes you feel they're reliable. they train like they compete. very professional. (they have a slightly bumpy exit to their lift)

"a team like this i think is going to be super crucial not having any little moments like that in the performance. i think they're under a magnifying glass for a lot of things and execution is not one of them" (like don't give them anything to pick apart, i guess?)

that their one foot section is hard - that they could have chosen significantly easier turns to create more flow (Jean-Luc's tone talking about them is very different than for C/B or D/S. like he's not saying anything overtly critical, but it's in his tone - he's interesting to listen to, because he does get excited about what he likes, and sometimes gets a slight edge of impatience when he's seeing something he's not loving) "they're excellent performers, masters of their craft, they've found their strength, and they're absolutely pushing that strength further and further. think that there's a fine balance of strengthening your weaknesses but also strengthening your strengths. because you don't get points for a good job on something you're not great at" (ooh i've never heard anyone say this, but i guess this is a reason why some teams never really fix their weaknesses) "so I think what they're doing is they're really trying to lean into their strengths with this particularly in the second half of that program" (what he was saying and not saying was very diplomatic while still really getting the point across lol but i would love for him to just straight out say what's weak that he sees)

[sleepymarmot]

Rope (1948)

[Watched on October 29th]

As with my previous Hitchcock – first, the liveblog.

Yes, yes, I’ve been watching the shortest films in my watchlist recently. Still, when I saw 1:20 in my video player, I had to pause and google for confirmation.

Oh look, James Stewart again!

I love it when a film is just a stage play on screen. They’ve got such a distinctive style of writing and delivery!

Added ten seconds later: fucking incredible amounts of “as you know” exposition in this dialogue lmfao

Me knowingly watching a gay subtext classic: I know it’s from the 40s but it really feels like they’re about to kiss

Phillip looks like a destiel lovechild btw

Approximately 1/4 of dialogue at the party so far is murder innuendos

Love the women’s chat about hot actors… some things never change

This old guy has an Ivan Karamazov vibe. I bet within the hour he’s going to regret his rhetoric!

Why is Brandon straight up confessing…

The most obvious murderers since Raskolnikov I swear to god

They’re yelling so loudly that Rupert would hear them over the phone in the next room

In the last 10-15 minutes I seriously considered that Rupert would side with them after all. I genuinely had no idea whether the movie would take the natural route (it did) or have a big plot twist. [Film name redacted for spoilers] did manage to ruin itself at the very last minute, after all!

---

Rope has been on my watchlist forever, but the other day I looked up Leopold and Loeb on Wikipedia, and the mention of the film at the end of the article finally inspired me to watch it.

Once again, I don’t really have anything special to say about a Hitchcock film. This one didn’t shoot itself in the foot, thankfully! It was pretty much what I expected.

Surprise: a Hitchcock film is suspenseful! I was genuinely nervous despite not sympathizing with the murderers. Especially during that shot of the food being cleared off of the chest…

It took me some time to catch on that the weird blackouts on characters’ backs were the means to disguise the cuts, and the takes were extremely long. Really enhances the theatrical feel! Nice darkening evening sky effect in the background, too, though the clouds looked distractingly fake. The lack of cuts and the visibly fading daylight were quite successful at creating the feeling that we’re watching the events in real time.

I like how much of the dialogue references the murder, and only half of the participants understand it. “These hands will bring you great fame”!

What I didn’t expect was the Dostoyevsky of it all. Inappropriate rants in a crowd of colorful individuals? Discussions of the right to kill and to dismiss the ethical norms? A guy on the verge of a nervous breakdown, screaming crying throwing up throughout the whole thing? Sexual transgression that the characters try not to talk about directly? I’ve seen this somewhere before!

Obligatory review section: “accidental marathon, i.e. similarities with the last movie I watched before this one” (or, in this case, the last one I watched and liked). This time it’s unconventional toxic couple having arguments in a room for an hour and a half. Oh wait a second, I didn’t even realize! The actual last movie I watched starred Cary Grant, who was mentioned in this one and was, according to the internet, offered the role of Rupert.

Rating: something between 9 and 10 out of 10.

[banafanax]

(Unfinished post)

A Tim Urban "Wait, But Why?" long-form style post:

In 2011 at the FA Cup Final a photographer named Jeffrey Martin took this 360 degree photo of the stadium at full capacity with 88,643 people present.

Apparently this was "Manchester vs Stoke," and given that I'm aware of Manchester and not Stoke (as an American), it's unsurprising to learn that Manchester won 1-0. However, for this post I only want to focus on the number of people in the photo.

Conveniently, the population of the earth just passed 8,100,000,000 or 8.1 billion (81 * 10^8) people. Because 81 is a perfect square, I thought about what the "square root" of the human population is, and it turns out that 8,100,000,000 = 90,000*90,000. That means for every individual in the 360 photo, there is a "Full Wembley Stadium of people" somewhere else on the earth in the year 2024.

Tim Urban Style disclaimer: Plus or minus a few, given there were fewer than 90k spectators, but there were also media, employees, and the team in the photo. There are also stitching artifacts)

Take a good long look at the photo. Pick a random person. Maybe look for one of the few women, children, or POC (all three?) in the picture. There is a "Full Wembley Stadium" of people out there right now, each of them living their full and complex lives. The people you know personally wouldn't even be represented by a single person here.

Disclaimer 2: Unfortunately I couldn't find a good picture of 90,000 people that weren't overwhelmingly middle-aged white men

So with that in mind, let's talk population. 90,000 people IRL is one person in the photo. My actual hometown is very small and represents less than 1/20th of a person. Maybe part of somebody's arm at best.

Maybe one of these dismembered feet.

In any case everyone I've ever met in my entire life who could have named me at any point in their life is like a foot in the stadium at best.

In the area I live all of the local towns and cities roughly merge together make a "metropolitan area" of about 130,000 people which is about a person and a half.

I picked this guy and his giant banana to represent everyone I know. He's in section 140.

I live near Salt Lake and visit often. The entirety of the Salt Lake "combined statistical area" comes to about 2,800,000 people, or about 30 people.

My entire world is like an upper-bowl row.

New York City is like The Big City in my mind. New York City proper has a population of around 9 million people, which is conveniently calculated to represent 100 people or 3-4 rows.

And here's a reminder of the scale of this picture because I feel like it's not coming across:

Look for the lime green pixels. Notice that not even half of the crowd is in view.

Y'all I got tired of writing this. Close your eyes and pretend I made you feel small and also smart.

[the-firebird69]

This is a double Dutch bus song it's really about what we're just talking about it sent it back right away it came back here and it's been talked about recently what they're talking about is a shared bus with us and they're saying we're all Giants and then we might be the ones involved with the stuff happening and at times I'd rather walk because it's a nightmare. And they say that and they don't really think it's us know that it's a millionaire with their own people and the cover for that is the school bus goes out in the morning delivers the kids and stays out all night goes for a trip and comes back and it wouldn't take that long on certain routes you can go to the California pass that our son did up by the base and you dropped them off in that area and there's transportation that would be there to training areas in big huge camps and it is a massive idea if you go in California from Los Angeles you would probably go to the southern wall and there's a small one in Arizona no there's one in you have to go all the way to New Orleans area to the north in Louisiana now that's pretty far but they can station no we'd have to go Dutch and you can't so if the California pass it's only gonna be like 2000 busses so you can't go Dutch that way and our son said you could run busses on one run and then you go back and you run them on the second one and it would cut the busses in half but you'd have twice as many out there people don't like it in school schedules would be longer and a longer day at school but that's an idea that would create a lot of busses that's a whole lot of busses there's a lot of people that take the city bus now it's just not working there's a lot of campers on the West Coast the South even the East Coast they're converting tons of them yeah they're grabbing those things and the the numbers are ridiculous. You can't take them into the tunnels so wondering what are they doing with all these busses and I sorta get it. So they have this idea and it's to Share the bus and have them walk to school and it's dangerous there's a lot of woodlands and it's not a nice idea and you can see it's like a street guy our son's idea is pretty good and they'd have security there and people are looking at that there's other ideas but to split the bus use is probably the best one so far and to order new ones then we can take those orders by the time the busses get out there this movement will be over and he says there's probably some junkyard that has all these busses in it they check those out and it requires too much work and we looked at it and they required lots of work but they're using them for parts there's other types of places like that with huge numbers of vehicles that are not busses but they are trucks and they're in storage they're like F-650 they're Chevy and it's like 10 million of them that's a big number right now they have about 40 million there's a lot of trucks and they would make a lot of transport vehicles now there's something you can put on there that would work and these things don't have a flatbed on the flatbeds usually only 20 foot long on top of that it's not a container but there are these old train sections they don't wait too much on the top but you can't deliver them and we think that's where the song train of the group train came from and those train sections is probably 5 million and if you go out there with the right equipment so certain type of crane and a spreader and people can tell you what it is you'd have 5 million vehicles if you put them with a Chevy's and the seals are probably okay they're brand new and people know where they are that's only one location there's several locations and several locations with a train sections so we're going to see if we can find one like it

Thor Freya

Olympus

[andsheoverthinks]

i don't think women are even more selective than men, incel/terminally online types just get all their ideas about women from porn/IG models' comment sections/that one OkCupid survey from 10 years ago no one will shut up about in order to come to the ridiculous 'all women want underwear model billionaires' conclusion which has the convenient function of protecting them from having to analyze their own behavior. if you go out in the world and walk around, look at the couples. you will see plenty of average-looking people together, oftentimes women are more attractive that their male partners as well, especially in interracial couples.

like, it takes One Thing for a group of girls/women to get mass psychosis and start hyping up a guy. it could be that he's >6 foot, or has a British accent, or is super polite and charismatic, or dresses nice -- these are all real, anecdotal, actually-happened examples btw -- and women will crowd physically around him and endlessly hype him up and stroke his ego and giggle. i have never seen a group of guys form a little praise circle around a woman. i've only seen (1) guy at a time behave like that around a woman if she absolutely gorgeous and gives off sensual energy and is super confident.

half the time on forums like r/purplepilldebate (halfway point for discussions about gender issues my ass, it's a total sausage fest) the guys there will whine about unattractive women having 'too high' standards because attractive men will slide in their DMs [Allegedly] and complain that if they ask a woman out they will risk getting rejected... well that's just par for the course, welcome to the circus. all the guys i know who actively, you know, talk to women, have a really easy time getting in relationships regardless of their height or their race or whatever else and at this point i'm pretty convinced that 90% of so-called 'incels' have never even asked a woman on a date or even had an acquaintance, they just expect a praise circle (of 10/10s only of course) for existing because they see women obsessing over certain guys. it's not so fucking hard for an average-looking guy to throw on some nice clothes and get a nice haircut and maybe some cologne and act normal (aka not like a foaming-at-the-mouth misogynist who sees women objects and approaches every conversation like the end goal is Just Chatting is to Get Sex). it's good that they're taking their maladaptive selves out of the gene pool but goddamn are they delusional.

[milenadaniels]

Before the Night Fades, 8.6k - POV Outsider on Buck/Eddie double date shenanigans (AO3)

“I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who."

---

Or, EddieAna and BuckTaylor double date and it ruins everyone's night.

The nearly-post-COVID return to normal rush is going exactly as well as management at the Tilted Cactus expected it would, which is to say it’s going as miserably as the waitstaff at the Tilted Cactus expected it would.

The owners lost a lot of money to lockdowns, diminished capacity and the general (extremely warranted) paranoia of co-mingling in public during an international plague for the sake of overpriced appetizers. And despite accurately predicting the business would boom once the doors re-opened, management didn’t feel the need to account for more staff to serve said business.

So despite owing $34k on her student loans (that’s after a generous gift from both her parents and her maternal grandmother), barely being able to afford rent in LA, and the utter lack of career prospects, Mere is taking a break in the backroom, next to the dirty mop bucket, mentally running through her finances before she officially gives her notice.

She can’t quit, she knows that.

Turns out leaving New Zealand for LA with nothing but a dream and the idea that if Taika could do it so could she was not the most future-proof plan she could have come up with. The starving artist thing was so 2010.

But Mere’s made up her mind. She’s not made for this abuse. This is bullshit. She’s going to pack up, go home, and you know, do...something else. She’ll figure it out.

Mere pulls herself up from her indelicate crouch on some empty crates and goes in search of a piece of paper — or a fucking napkin, who cares — on which to write up her official resignation.

“No, in section 3A,” she hears Tomas fake-whisper. He’s one of the few new hires to grace these hallowed halls and still thinks it’s disrespectful to talk shit about customers even in the backroom. Umida, a five year veteran of this distinguished profession, has been trying to disabuse him of this particular nonsense.

“Where the fuck is section 3A, Tommy? We have sections 1 to 9, we don’t have any letters.”

“The new sidewalk sections have letters, to distinguish them from inside.”

“You mean sections 10 and 11?”

“...Mr. Peters said they’re using letters.”

“Mr. Peters can swallow my entire ass. The sidewalk sections are literally right outside the door from 9, why would they not be called 10 and 11?”

“Or ‘Hell On Earth’ and ‘Kill Me Please’, as we call them colloquially,” Mere offers, startling Tomas as she pushes through the swinging door she’d been hiding behind. Patio dining is highly encouraged and an excellent way to dine if one has patios. The Tilted Cactus does not have patios. It has a temporary license to put tables on the dirty sidewalk outside their restaurant, where waitstaff get to weave around pedestrians, dogs, and carts like they’re completing an obstacle course.

“Yeah, those work,” Umida agrees, emphasizing her point with a dispirited index finger in Mere’s direction.

“Okay, whatever,” Tomas says with a pained eye roll. “Can you please just check it out and let me know?”

“What’s happening?” Mere asks. She’s leaving this popsicle stand (ideally, on fire as she walks away slowly into the night) but she’s also starved of both human attention and the inherent drama of the culinary world so she’ll be damned if she misses out on one final showdown.

Tomas takes a breath to steel himself. “I have a bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, one engagement ring to go into one of those champagne flutes, and a note to deliver it all to table 34 with dessert,” Tomas explains, wide-eyed, throwing his hand back to the prep station where said champagne is waiting on ice next to four flutes and a small ring box.

“Okay?”

“Okay so there’s two men and two women and I have no idea who’s getting proposed to. I’m not even 100% on who came with who.”

“You don’t have gaydar where you come from?” Umida asks in perfect deadpan.

Tomas glares harder, crosses his arms and juts one hip out. “I come from San Francisco. We invented gaydar. I’m saying I’m pretty sure the guys are together, but I’m also pretty sure they’re each with the women they’re sitting next to. So figure that out.”

“Like a double thruple?” Mere asks, now actually becoming curious.

“Like a ‘I don’t know what y’all are smoking this far north but I don’t understand your weird relationship dynamics and I’m still on probation and I can’t lose this job because I can’t move back in with my brother because I will murder him and I can’t be an only child with aging parents in this economy so can you please just go out there and tell me what the fuck is happening so I can throw this ring at the right person and punch out sometime before I ‘accidentally’ fall on the meat clever downstairs?’ kind of situation.”

Umida and Mere share a glance.

“Okay, well, don’t despair, new guy,” Mere says with a pat on his arm. “Save the meat cleaving for the capitalist elite. We got you. Let the pros handle this.”

“What did the note say?” Umida asks. “One ‘e’ or two? We can at least eliminate half of our options.”

Tomas does not check the note to spot whether the note-taker had written ‘fiancé’ or ‘fiancée’. He stares them down and fips the note in his fingers so the text faces them.

“It says ‘finance’.”

“Ah.”

“We’re going to need a more hands-on investigation, then,” Mere announces.

—————————-

Mere goes first, only because Umida was on her way to swap a side dressing for her table when Tomas intercepted her.

Mere carries a jug of water and makes the rounds of the outdoor tables, trying to hold in her visible distaste for the pseudo-patio vibe the owners tried to make happen out here. There’s a bike stand and a taxi stand two feet from where people are trying to have a romantic dinner. Every now and again, the LA traffic gets rowdy and noisy, completely butchering the atmosphere. There’s a shitty speaker funneling in some Frank Sinatra but it really does nothing to help.

But after this mystery is solved, none of this will be her problem anymore.

Like Tomas said, there are two men and two women sitting like cardinal points around a round table. The women are on the north and east ends, the men on the south and west ones. Two of them are brunets, one a redhead, and one a blond. They’re all disgustingly gorgeous.

And that’s all she’s got.

“The ravioli sounds so good,” the brunette woman says, casting a look at the brunet man to her side.

“Yeah, it does,” he says.

“Mm,” the blond man disagrees. “It’s got feta.”

“What’s wrong with feta?” Asks the redheaded woman.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with feta,” he responds with a superior smile directed at the man next to him who’s preemptively adopting the look of someone ready to hear some bullshit. “Unless you have an underdeveloped palate and are simply overwhelmed by such strong delicacies as a moderately salty cheese.”

“Okay, don’t talk to me about an underdeveloped palate, Pennsylvania,” the other man responds, posturing despite the softness of his eyes.

“Hey, I said nothing to besmirch the great state of Texas. Texas is a wonder of culinary delight. I’m saying you’re...a simple man.”

“Feta’s disgusting and that’s a hill I’m willing to die on,” the brunet says with smug finality, holding the other man’s eyes until they’re both smirking and looking back at their menus.

Well then.

Mere’s a little bummed as she fills the water at table 36. She’d been hoping the mystery would run longer than 2 whole minutes, but these guys are definitely together. So the mystery will only come down to who’s getting eng—

“Thankfully Chris inherited a more refined palate,” the blond man — Pennsylvania — chirps as the last word.

“He did,” the brunette woman chimes in with a playful smile. “He loves my cooking. You both loved that greek salad I made last week, didn’t you? That had feta in it.”

“It did!” the brunet man replies, slipping his hand overtop hers. “And I loved it. So clearly context is a factor.”

Mere almost spills the rest of the water all over the lady at table 38 as she takes in the man and woman mooning at each other. Though if it’s any consolation, the redheaded woman looks as unimpressed as Mere feels.

“Yeah, I have no idea,” Mere reports back to Tomas.

“The redheads are playing footsie under the table now. That’s one couple at least right?” Tomas asks. The two of them are parked behind the bar where they can see through the window outside but the exterior tint prevents anyone outside from seeing them. The bar is still used for pouring drinks but the stools are gone — can’t maintain 6 feet between them — so the staff pretty much have the run of this corner of the restaurant.

“He’s not a redhead,” Mere mutters, looking out the window to catch the action. “It’s like a dark blond. And I don’t know, I’m pretty sure the two brunets are together, but then blond guy’s foot is way into the other guy’s space.” For a moment she’s distracted by just how damn long his legs are. “That’s certainly...familiar.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida declares when she returns from dropping off plates at table 32.

“They’re lesbians?” Tomas parrots skeptically. “I did not get that vibe.”

“I could see lesbian for the redhead, I think,” Mere says. “Don’t know about the brunette.”

“Lesbians come in all flavours,” Umida informs them haughtily. It’s the start of Pride month and her hijab is held together by an “Ally” pin. “You can’t tell someone’s orientation just by looking at them.”

“But you’ve declared them lesbians,” Mere points out.

“Because lesbians are approaching their table and only lesbians know other lesbians.”

“That’s definitely not true,” Tomas reproaches.

“No, she’s right, lesbians coming up!” Mere watches as two more unfairly gorgeous women approach with two young boys in tow. Honestly, screw LA and their beauty standards. The parties look surprised to see each other, but they clearly know each other well. One of the boys stays with the women, but the other one breaks off to join the table.

“No, I mean you can know lesbians without being a lesbian.”

Umida and Mere ignore him.

“Okay, that’s one of their kids, right?” Umida asks. “Lesbians babysitting for date night?”

“He’s got Pennsylvania’s curls,” Mere agrees. "That's the blond guy, by the way, I think he’s from there. Brunet guy is Texas for the time being."

The boy reaches the table and is pulled into a strong hug by Texas, who then directs him to a hug with the brunette.

“Oh, unexpected.” Mere would have sworn he was a dead ringer for Pennsylvania. “But okay, that confirms the hand-holding I saw. We have a set of parents. And unless this is a super modern table, I don’t see the parents being here on dates with other people.”

“Mm, I don’t know.” Umida dithers. “That’s like an auntie hug, not a parent hug. Like if she is the mom, the kid is not happy with her.”

“Wait,” Tomas says.

The boy is wiggling out of Brunette’s grasp and rounding the table to Pennsylvania who’s waiting with a wide smile and open arms, and instead of letting go after, the boy finagles his way onto Pennsylvania’s lap to steal a breadstick. Pennsylvania reaches into the basket for another breadstick to pass to the little boy still waiting with his moms and Mere’s heart tugs a little.

Texas watches on from across the table with unrestrained fondness. His leg shifts to press against Pennsylvania’s who looks up with a smile.

“Boom, gay dads!” Tomas crows.

“And lesbians,” Umida adds.

“Redhead definitely has no part of this,” Mere notes. The woman is smiling but it’s polite and practised, not warm or welcoming. “I guess the brunets could be siblings maybe? Really close siblings?”

Finally, the babysitters make to leave so Pennsylvania kisses the boy’s temple and guides him back to his feet. Texas presses his own kiss to the boy’s curls as he passes, saying something they can’t make out from behind the glass. Brunette gets only a wave as he leaves.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida concludes smugly.

“Okay, good,” Tomas sighs with relief. “So we know who the couples are, now who’s gettin—”

“Um,” Mere interrupts, pointing at the table.

Redhead’s foot is making its way up Pennsylvania’s leg and he shoots her a grin.

“For fuck’s sake,” Tomas spits as he walks away.

“Did you even take their order yet?” Mere calls after him. He doesn’t answer.

———-

Mere gets pulled away because now that she’s not quitting in outrage until this table 34 drama is over, she figures she should actually get back to work. Happily, having not seen her for the last 20 minutes, Mikael figured she had left or died and had taken over her section. She agrees to split half the tips with him and lets herself be pulled back into the tide of madness.

“Got it figured yet, Tim-Tam?” she asks when she passes him near the bathrooms.

“The guys are sharing their orders,” he says despondently.

“That’s not that incriminating. I split my orders with people. I’m not about to pay full price to discover if I like something.”

“No,” Tomas glares before gesturing to the window with disgust. “They’re sharing their orders.”

Tomas stalks away to hopefully take an herbal break to calm down and Mere goes back to the window just in time to catch the insanity. Mere feels Umida come up behind her and tries to suppress her shiver when her “what in all that is holy” skates across her bare shoulder.

Pennsylvania has just finished piling some of his spaghetti on Texas’ plate, which is exceedingly normal. But now Pennsylvania is reaching for Texas' burger.

“He didn’t cut that,” Umida notes.

“No, he did not.”

They have pretty messy burgers at Tilted Cactus, ones that are hard to share because if you cut them down the middle they tend to lose structural integrity. Of course, this isn’t a big concern if you’re sharing already-bitten-into burgers. Which these absolute freaks are doing.

“Gays and lesbians,” Umida declares again, the earlier smugness replaced with an air of disgust.

But when Umida walks away, Mere watches Brunette wipe something off Texas’ cheek and frowns. One throuple and redheaded side piece? Maybe?

————

“I’m struggling with lesbians as a theory,” Mere tells Umida the next chance she gets at the pickup counter. “I want to believe, but…”

“Yeah, I’m doubting now too. They’re almost exclusively talking to each other. But then I realized it was more getting-to-know-you conversation and this would be a hell of a weird first date.”

“Huh, so heteros all around?”

“Well, I also caught on that they’re spending all this time talking to each other because the guys are like in their own world. Finishing each others’ —”

“Sandwiches?”

“Exactly,” Umida grins, unexpectedly delighted by the reference. “So I don’t know. I really don’t envy Tommy.”

“Me either.”

“Hey Manish,” Umida yells out to the other side of the pickup window, “I’m picking up for Lenore but she’s got a two-seater, why do I have four dishes here?”

“Because Lenore can’t write for shit,” Mere says, picking up the order slip and squinting at the scrawl. “These are for table 24, not 29. It’s a four-seater.”

“Alright, well I guess you’re helping me, then,” Umida says with a wink.

Umida is fully capable of carrying four dishes on her own but she’s asking Mere to come with her so Mere’s already reaching for the plates, hoping the blush on her cheek can be written off as heat from the kitchen.

————-

During a slow stretch, Mere takes it upon herself to refill water and wine glasses in section 10.

From table 32 she can hear them talking about elementary school workloads.

“Oh, ah, I meant to let you know,” Pennsylvania says to Redhead, sitting up in his seat. “I can’t make it to the movies next Friday, can we move it to the next week? I should know my schedule by Wednesday.”

“Sure,” Redhead says with a hint of bite to her pleasant smile. “But I thought you had Friday off.”

“I do,” Pennsylvania says, his lips curving into a small, excited smile, “but Christopher won his class’ public speaking competition and they’re doing a kind of show of all the winners for the parents, and it’s on Friday.”

Mere moves around table 34 and heads for table 36 next, but catches the looks of discomfort on every face aside from Pennsylvania’s. He doesn’t realize he’s said something wrong, but the rest of them have.

“Isn’t that just during school hours?” Brunette woman asks.

Texas hesitates before saying, “yeah, but we’re taking him to Universal after to celebrate.”

Out of pity, Mere doubles back to table 34 and reaches for his water glass to fill. People tend to keep their drama buckled while the waitstaff is there. And sure enough, Redhead glances up and paints a tense smile on her face.

“Yeah, not a problem. That sounds exciting.”

There’s a bite to her words, and by the way his shoulders tense and his fingers curl more tightly around his fork, Texas seems to have picked up on it.

————-

By the end of the entrees, most of the staff have caught onto Tomas’ predicament and one by one everyone from the table-bussers to the cooks have gone out for a smokeless smoke break to try to be the one to divine what the hell is happening at table 34.

None are successful.

“This isn’t even like a romantic date,” Mani laments. “Like none of them are that dressed up and they’re talking about like natural disasters and shit. I don’t get a proposal vibe from like any of them.”

“Who even goes on a double date to propose? Who does that? It’s so tacky!” Gabby says from behind the bar where she’s helping herself to a quick nip before she heads home.

“Who still thinks the ring in the champagne bit is a good idea, is my question. It’s a choking hazard!” Mere says. “How romantic to start off your engagement with a trip to the ER.”

Tomas ignores them all. He looks about 10 minutes away from saying to hell with his probationary status and drinking the next hour away straight out of the vodka bottle at his elbow. “I know it’s Pride and I should be representing but I could really do with a little heteronormativity right now.”

—————-

Tomas is stalling.

Table 34 asked for dessert, of course, and when he vaguely floated the idea of champagne, Texas had readily agreed, so this is happening. The champagne flutes are lined up on a tray, the champagne in them is warming with every minute that passes, and he is no closer to figuring out what to do.

“What if I put all the glasses in the middle and they have to pick which one they want?”

“Okay but the person getting proposed to tonight likely doesn’t know?” Mikael says.

“What if you pretend you didn’t see the instructions?” Shania pitches. “As if we can ever write stuff down correctly anyway. Just say it said to bring out the champagne but nothing about the ring being in a flute! Just hand it back to the proposer and let them get it done.”

“You think we don’t know who the proposee is but we know who the proposer is?” Tomas bites. “If I knew that, Shania, I could have just called them away with a phone call or something and asked them who to give the flute to.”

“Geez,” Shania exclaims, hopping off the bar counter to walk away. “You try to help…”

“And then there were three,” Mario announces as he comes back from another completely unnecessary round of filling water glasses outside.

Tomas’ head snaps up from where he’d been staring into the countertops. “What?”

They all rush to the window and sure enough: Redhead is gone.

“I didn’t see her come in,” Mere says, almost breathlessly. If she’d come in to use the restroom, they would have seen her.

“No, she’s gone-gone,” Mario supplies. “Said she had to get back to work but I’m pretty sure she just wanted out. That’s the chick from the news, you know?”

“People still watch the news?” Mere wondered aloud.

Tomas tsks. “Redhead was the least probable suspect!”

“Well we can rule out Brunette and Pennsylvania as a couple, right?” Umida asks, waiting briefly for the gathered crowd to nod. “Okay, so we’re down to the brunets together, or Pennsylvania and Texas.”

“Or polyamorous,” Mikael sniffs. Mikael is trying polyamory. He doesn’t know there’s a bet going on how long he’ll last. It’s a fine relationship style to get into but one he and his jealousy and insecurity issues are deeply unsuited for.

“Apologies, Mikael, or polyamorous. So you have...yeah, 3 of 3 options left for that ring,” Umida grimaces.

“Wait!” So-Hee cries. She’s supposed to be hosting at the entrance but COVID-19 protocols mean people don’t show up earlier than 5 minutes before their reservation so the podium isn’t very backed up. “What does the ring look like? That could be a clue, right?”

They look to Tomas, whose face is blank.

“You didn’t look?” Mere accuses him, though to be fair it never occurred to her either.

So-Hee pounces on the deep purple velvet box without waiting for Tomas to answer.

“Please god,” Tomas mumbles, grabbing the box out of her hands and prying it open with almost reckless enthusiasm.

All six members of staff currently on duty at the window crowd around, many heads bumping together to catch a glimpse. The ring nestled in the box has a slim, dainty band with a solitaire diamond jutting out proudly, with filigree details on either side.

“Oh thank sweet baby Jesus, that is a woman’s ring!” Tomas nearly yells.

“It could be a man’s ring,” Umida protests weakly, almost sad to see the drama come to an end.

Mere’s a little put out too if she’s being honest. But even if they couldn’t tell from the design, the sizing is way too small to fit on either of table 34’s men’s fingers, as So-Hee demonstrates by plucking the ring up and sliding it onto her own tiny finger.

“Yeah, get it stuck on your sweaty fingers, So-Hee,” Tomas protests almost hysterically, feeling his win come into danger. He wrestles it back off her finger and shoves it back in the box before taking a deep cleansing breath.

“Okay, I’ve got a dessert course to deliver,” he says, the picture of calm professionalism as if he hasn’t spent the last hour losing his entire shit.

———-

They should disperse then, but like brothers in arms after battle, all of them feel the need to stand guard as Tomas prepares to deliver the goods.

Some of them, like So-Hee, stand because they’ve foolishly become emotionally invested in the upcoming nuptial bliss.

Some of them, like Umida, stand because they fell in love with their version of events and they feel the need to properly mourn for what might have been.

“They’re co-parenting that boy,” Umida grumbles. “We all saw that! They can’t deny that!”

And some of them, like Mere, stand because they really can’t be bothered to get back to work.

But stand together they do as Tomas plops the ring in one flute and carries the tray out.

“Excuse me,” comes a voice off to the side of their group.

So-Hee, ever the consummate people-pleaser, actually turns to take care of the customer. The rest of them stay fixed at the window. “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“Maybe? I couldn’t help but notice that young man taking some champagne out.”

“Yes, would you like to order a bottle as well?” So-Hee pokes Mikael. “We’d be happy to bring some out to you.”

“Ah, no,” the man says. “Well, yes. But I’ve already ordered some. I called earlier, when I reserved my table.”

Mere stiffens, her sixth sense borne of years of customer service piquing. Beside her, Umida takes note as well.

“I asked that champagne be brought to the table with dessert, and I left a box...one that looks a lot like the one on your counter there. And I’m sure it’s just a coincidence but I couldn’t help but want to make sure it’s not my ring that just went out to that other table.”

Mere’s wide eyes spring to Umida’s.

“Oh my fuck,” Umida whispers.

Then they’re both racing for the door.

“Wrong table, wrong table, wrong table,” Mere mutters under her breath as she dodges a stroller and a dog walker trying to reach Tomas —

“Oh, Edmundo!” Brunette exclaims brightly.

Umida’s hand braces Mere like a soccer mom in a car.

It’s too late now.

There’s nothing they can do but watch this trainwreck happen.

Happily, Redhead vacated the seat nearest to them so they have an unobstructed view of Brunette’s eyes filling with tears, of Texas’ wide eyes, and of Pennsylvania’s face losing all colour.

From context, Texas is the Edmundo Brunette is so pleased with.

But Edmundo is shaking his head, his brow furrowed. “I...wha— ”

Pennsylvania comes back to himself first, though the smile he paints on his face is strained and frail. “Ah, con — congratulations.”

“Wha— Buck, no.”

Pennsylvania — Buck — stands up from the table like a colt learning to walk, his eyes darting across the table without landing anywhere. “I — ah — I should let you guys celebrate.”

“Buck, no, I—” Edmundo’s voice is firmer now, his hand darting out to reach for Buck, and Brunette starts to catch on that nobody’s getting down on one knee with a flowery speech.

“Edmundo?” she calls, her bright smile dimming.

Edmundo looks torn and trapped in equal measure, and Mere wonders for a heartbreaking moment if maybe he’s as confused about his relationships as the Tilted Cactus employees have been tonight.

With a sigh, and a reminder that she’s out of this place like Cinderella at midnight, Mere falls on the proverbial meat cleaver. Stepping around Umida’s still outstretched arm, Mere weaves herself in front of Tomas just in case there’s any physical fallout, and pitches her voice low so the neighbouring tables will have to strain to listen in.

“Excuse me, my name is Mere, I’m the assistant manager. I am so sorry to inform you there’s been a terrible mistake. We’ve delivered a ring to your table that was destined to another this evening. We apologize deeply for any confusion this has caused and we will of course be comping your meals.”

“It—Oh.” Brunette’s eyes land on the ring on her finger, and her remaining excitement implodes into embarrassment so quickly and resoundly that Mere’s surprised it doesn’t produce an audible sound. The fingers of her opposite hand grip the ring and pause for a moment before slipping it off. There’s no box to slip it into so Mere holds out her hand, the other tucked neatly behind her back.

“Thank you,” Mere says quietly. “Please forgive us for the mistake. We will be investigating what happened so it never happens again.”

“Of course,” Brunette says lightly, forcing some life back into her voice. “I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

Her eyes lift then and take in the scene across from her. Edmundo and Buck still standing, Edmundo’s hand wrapped round Buck’s wrist to keep him from leaving, and her eyes shutter once more.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up,” she says politely, rising from her seat and escaping into the restaurant.

Edmundo watches her go but says nothing, frozen still, holding onto the man beside him.

With all eyes more or less off them now, Mere gathers Tomas and Umida and hauls ass back into the restaurant.

————-

The ring is cleaned and inspected by Gareth, its actual owner, who is amiable enough to not escalate the situation further. His fiancée-to-be is none the wiser on any of these happenings — luckily their table, 29, is indoors — so his proposal is still on for the next course. But, just in case it doesn’t go the way Gareth hopes and he turns on them, Mere preemptively comps their meal too and congratulates him before he’s reseated.

On her way back to the kitchen, she grabs Lenore and uses the last hour of her completely fake authority to formally bar her from ever answering the phone again, or taking notes from the phone, or writing anything anywhere ever again. Lenore, having heard about the drama at table 34 and having seen the crying woman rush to the bathroom just now, accepts with little resistance.

And Mere, heart heavy with the weight of what they’ve done to this poor woman, mentally shakes her fist at her own curiosity and need for schadenfreude. If she’d bailed on this place an hour ago, she wouldn’t be leaving with this heartache by proxy.

As if beckoned by her thoughts, Brunette emerges from the bathroom just as Mere is crossing in front of it. She looks better, her tears packed away, and her cheeks only slightly reddened. Mere is about to offer her something — a glass of water? wine? a whole bottle? — when Edmundo steps into view. Mere doesn’t break stride until she’s behind the protection of the pay terminal privacy partition where she can see them but not be seen.

“Hey,” he says softly, his frame pretty loose and relaxed for a man who looked so troubled moments ago.

“Hey,” she returns with a forced smile.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know—”

Brunette cuts him off with a hand. “It’s not your fault. They made a mistake. It happens.”

Edmundo nods.

“But…” Brunette continues, fidgeting with the strap of her purse. “For a moment, it didn’t seem far-fetched that it...might be real, you know? I know we’ve been taking things slow, but we have been seeing each other for nearly a year now. And I thought… I don’t know what I thought, but it...it didn’t seem so far-fetched.”

Edmundo’s shoulders have grown tense, and it doesn’t escape Brunette’s notice. She smiles sadly.

“But then I looked up and you weren’t even looking at me. You were looking at Buck. You were so scared he would leave and that — that just doesn’t make sense, does it? I mean, even if the...the ring was a big misunderstanding, wouldn’t it have been better that he leave so we could talk about it privately? But you were scared, because he was upset… And if he was...I don’t know...upset that you hadn’t told him about this, you could have caught up later and discussed it, cleared it up.”

Edmundo says nothing, but he hangs his head and gnaws on his lower lip.

“But you were scared. Scared of him leaving in that moment. Scared...that he’d leave with the wrong idea? That he’d leave thinking you were — we were... ” Brunette sighs sharply. “I think I’ve been a fool.”

“You haven’t—” Edmundo tries to say.

“No, I have. It’s felt so many times like there’s been a third wheel in this relationship, and I genuinely didn’t realize until now that it was me. And maybe I’m naive but I’d like to think you didn’t realize it until today either. That you’re just as big a fool as I am. And maybe Buck is too.”

Edmundo opens his mouth twice to say something but nothing comes out. In the end, he settles on, “Ana, I’m sorry. I...didn’t realize. I don’t even know if I understand what I realize. But I...I know you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met and you didn’t deserve this.”

Brunette — Ana — smiles again sadly, and if a touch bitterly, she’s entitled to it.

“Thank you,” she says softly, before fidgeting with her purse strap again. “I’m going to go. You’ll...say goodbye to Buck for me?” Edmundo nods.

“Goodbye, Edmundo.”

“Take care, Ana,” he responds.

Ana takes a few steps before stopping and turning. “Good luck. I think…” she shakes her head before repeating, “good luck,” and leaving out the side doors.

Mere unglues herself from the privacy wall and slinks sadly back to the bar where she finds Tomas and Umida already halfway through a glass of red each. There’s a third, untouched glass waiting for her.

“We’re horrible people,” Mere decides. “Brunette and Texas just broke up.”

“We didn’t do this,” Umida protests half-heartedly. “Technically, Tomas did.”

“Ugh, you ass,” Tomas sputters. “The note said table 34, you all saw it. It’s Lenore’s fault.”

“It is Lenore’s fault,” Mere agrees before downing half her glass like a shot. Out the window, she can see Pennsyl — Buck — slumped in his chair, staring at the tablecloth. There’s a fresh bottle of wine on the table, two empty glasses at his and Edmundo’s places. Mere raises a glass at Tomas for the gesture.

“If they don’t end up drinking it, I’m taking it home,” Tomas says, “I already wrote it off.”

That’s fair.

Unfortunately for him, when Edmundo gets back to the table, he immediately pours them both a very full glass.

Buck straightens out in his chair, looking concerned and looking around for Ana, who doesn’t materialize. Edmundo says something that has Buck relaxing but looking guilty. Then Edmundo shuffles closer and puts a hand back on Buck’s wrist.

“Okay, back to work,” Mere orders. “We’ve intruded on this drama way too much already.”

When she finds her way back to the bar some twenty minutes later for a totally appropriate reason, table 34 is empty.

————————

A year later, Mere finds herself sitting on the Tilted Cactus bar counter on a Friday night, legs swinging and popping olives like they’re mints. She ended up not quitting her job the night she intended to. Between the excitement, the drama, and the on-duty alcohol, she was feeling pretty chill about sticking it out at the Tilted Cactus a while longer.

But she ended up quitting two days later when the owner found out about how she impersonated an assistant manager and gave her hell for it. She could have stayed, he wasn’t really going to reprimand her. But listening to him talk down at her while her stomach filled with dread at the idea of having to apologize and walk back into that hell hole…nah. Fuck the Tilted Cactus, fuck the owner, and fuck two weeks’ notice. They weren’t getting a minute out of her ever again.

She took the gamble of taking out more student loans and was wrapping up her EMT certification. She’d be in an ambulance soon enough, actually helping people. Not the dream that got her to America, but one that would suffice for now. Make up enough karma to get her feet back under her.

“The lesbians are back,” Umida announces excitedly in a whisper as she fits herself between Mere’s legs against the bar.

“Which lesbians?”

“THEE lesbians,” Umida returns, pointing out the window.

“Those are two guys, babe. Three if you count the kid.”

“They’re lesbians,” Umida insists, waving her hand to dismiss the kid from her labels. “They have strong lesbian energy.”

“You’re claiming them for your people?” Mere grins fondly. It’s the start of Pride again and Umida’s Ally pin has been traded in for a lesbian-flag coloured hijab secured with the updated BIPOC Pride flag pin. She’s very pretty in pink, right down to the lipstick Mere isn’t allowed to kiss off of her until her shift is up.

“I am, they’re mine. I claim them.”

“Wait,” Mere squints, trying to pin down the familiar feeling she’s getting, “are those…”

“The guys! Eddie and Buck. I told you they were semi-regulars now. And we were right, that’s totally their kid. I don’t know how, especially since we know they weren’t together before that night, but he’s their kid. My money’s on one of them being trans because he’s literally their spitting image combined.”

Mere sighs happily and hugs Umida to her. “Well, I’m glad some good came out of that night.”

“Umida?” a young voice asks from across the bar. In the year since the reopening, a slew of new hires have joined the ranks to replace all the veterans leaving and Mere barely recognizes anyone anymore. She saw Mikael (unsurprisingly single again) a couple of weeks ago but he’s clearly on his way out too. Tomas lasted until his probation was over before quitting. Umida, in no small part because she was the longest lasting employee, was rightfully promoted to the role of assistant manager. Mere still hopes she’ll leave this hell hole soon but in the meantime, at least she’s getting paid. And authority looks really good on her.

“What up, Jerome?”

Jerome pushes his dark blue fringe back and holds up a sheet of paper. “I have a note here to deliver a ring to a table with dessert but it doesn’t say who’s supposed to get it.”

“Oh my god, no, no way,” Mere laughs and tries to push Umida away. “Let me out of here.”

Umida’s arms close around her hips, preventing her escape.

“Calm down. I created a form so that night doesn’t happen again. Jerome, did you use the form?”

“Um, yeah.” He shakes the sheet of paper in his hands. “I mean whoever took the call did. They checked off the table number, and it’s a ‘fiancé’ not a ‘fiancée’, but it’s a table with two guys so…”

“Okay, but there’s a field for the name, did they fill it out?”

“How am I supposed to know who they are from a name though?”

“Oh my god, kid, you schmooze,” Umida says. “You roll up to their table, you lay on the customer service thick and introduce yourself and ask their names. People are idiots, they’ll tell you, just like that.”

Jerome cocks his head in contemplation. “Yeah okay, but no, there’s no name. It’s blank.”

“But you made a form,” Mere mock whispers.

Umida turns on her, her eyeshadow catching the bar lights as she narrows her eyes. “This is not the form’s fault, don’t you blame this on the form! The form has a field for a name! The form provides!”

“The form is flawless,” Mere agrees quickly, running her hand down Umida’s arm soothingly. “You can’t account for user error.”

Umida glares harder before looking up to the ceiling in supplication.

Mere, who has never in her life been able to resist picking at a scab, asks, “what table is it?”

Jerome checks the paper. “34.”

“The cursed table. The cursed lesbians!” Mere gasps, squirming out of the way when Umida tries to pinch her side.

“Well it’s not like the kid is a contender, so it’s 50/50,” Umida points out. “Much better odds than last time.”

“And to be fair, if the wrong guy gets the flute, he can just improvise and propose with the ring in hand,” Mere continues. “Overall, much less exciting drama than last time. 3/10 for me.”

“Thank god. Yeah, let’s do that.” Jerome walks away with his marching orders and Umida turns to Mere. “I have to actually go work. You gonna hang out here?” She’s off in a half hour and they have tickets to the back row of the latest Marvel nonsense.

“I got booze, olives, and an unobstructed view of my favourite drama. I’m all set.” In lieu of a proper kiss, Mere lifts Umida’s hand and kisses her wrist, delighting in watching her girlfriend’s eyes soften. She blows Mere a kiss and flits away to put out fires.

Mere is usually on her phone while she waits for Umida but tonight she watches table 34. The guys — Eddie and Buck, Umida reminded her — are across the table from each other, Eddie is relaxed in his chair but Buck is leaning forward, elbows on the table as he tells their son a story that has him cackling in his seat. They’re not holding hands, but anyone looking can see they’re together. They have ridiculous heart eyes for each other, and from her vantage point she can see those long legs intermingling again, one knee occasionally jostling into the other. Little tangible reminders that they’re there and together.

She saw hints of this that night, and to see it have taken hold and blossomed...suddenly she’s really invested in them having a great night. One of them planned this night out, wanted to surprise the other, and she doesn’t want that going to waste because of a blank field on a form.

Mere’s wearing a dark long-sleeve blouse, not too far off the dress code, so slips off the counter, snags the backup apron they always leave behind the bar and ties it around her waist. One of the newbies whose name she doesn’t know watches her from the host pedestal and Mere raises a fierce eyebrow at them until they go back to minding their own business.

She rinses out a jug and fills it with water and ice and slips back into her customer service posture to make the rounds of the tables in section 10.

“Well now, I recognize you handsome folk, don’t I?” she schmoozes when she gets to table 34, picking up Eddie’s glass first to fill.

Eddie doesn’t place her and she doesn’t blame him, he was under a lot of stress that night. It takes Buck a second but he gets it.

“Oh hey, yeah! Weren’t you — “ Buck cuts himself off awkwardly and casts an eye to Eddie and the kid. “You, ah, gave us our meals for free! Because of the, um, mix-up.”

That’s enough for Eddie to place her, and where Buck relaxes back into his chair as she fills his glass, Eddie goes stock still.

Bingo.

“What mix-up?” the kid asks.

“Ah, they put something in our drink by accident,” Buck lies without lying. “Real choking hazard! So they gave us our meals for free.”

“That’s dangerous,” the kid says.

“It was dangerous,” Mere agrees, filling his glass. “Choking hazard was right. Could have turned a really great night all wrong with a trip to the hospital.”

Eddie’s brow furrows slightly and Mere struggles to keep a neutral face.

“It’s never a good idea to hide things in food. I don’t know why people keep trying instead of just calling us for advice. We have tons of ways to help people with surprises.”

“I completely agree,” Buck says. “We’re actually firefighters and you wouldn’t believe how many accidental choking calls we get.”

Eddie swallows, his eyes looking mildly panicked.

“Firefighters!” Mere schmoozes harder, smiling at the kid as he gets excited again. “Well I certainly feel safer then.”

“Ah, you probably shouldn’t. I was actually one of those calls once,” Buck says halfway through a smile and grimace, pointing to his throat where there’s a faint scar. “Emergency tracheotomy on the floor of a restaurant. But that wasn’t a surprise, just, ah, too enthusiastic about the breadsticks.”

Eddie’s looking decidedly gray now, eyes laser focused on the scar.

“Okay, well I’ll just go ahead and clear these,” Mere says, jokingly reaching for the bread basket until Buck laughs back.

“I’m better now, promise! Small bites, chewed thoroughly!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she dithers dramatically, nodding to the kid. “If I leave those here, can I trust you to keep an eye on your dad?”

“Yeah!” the kid agrees with a toothy grin.

Buck’s cheeks redden quickly but he’s still smiling, his head ducked shyly in a way Mere doubts is due to her teasing. Eddie, meanwhile, is still looking poleaxed though fondness is fighting its way back in.

“Well, I was just subbing into this section so this will be goodbye for us but it was great to see you guys! Enjoy your evening!”

“Thanks, you too!” Buck says with an easy smile. Eddie manages a “thank you” and Mere has to restrain herself from patting his shoulder as she walks away.

She’s only just returned the apron to the bar when she sees Eddie walk in and head straight for the host before being led to the back.

“Ready to go?” Umida asks, back in her unsensible heels and cross-chest messenger bag.

Mere takes the hand she extends but tugs her closer instead of following her out, before saying the worst thing she’s ever said in her life, “Actually, do you mind if we stick around a little longer?”

“Something good about to happen?” she asks, peeking out the window.

Mere tugs her in closer and leans her chin on her shoulder. “I think so.”

Twenty minutes later, when Jerome passes by with a tray of assorted chocolate treats and two overturned coffee cups, Mere and Umida find themselves bracketed by half the front and back staff. Gossip still spreads like wildfire it seems.

Buck’s overturned coffee cup and plate is the last thing Jerome puts on the table, and as soon as it’s down, he excuses himself. He keeps a professional pace until he’s past the exterior doors and then he’s racing to take a front seat at the bar.

Eddie turns over his cup but doesn’t reach for the carafe, he wipes his hands on his jeans instead.

“Oh my god, he’s so nervous,” Jerome whispers.

“The kid is so in on it,” the host whose name Mere never caught says, and they’re right. Where Eddie’s tensed up, the kid is bouncing in his seat like he knows something’s coming.

“Come on, guy,” a bus boy mutters, checking his watch. His break is almost over.

Mere’s heart is beating hard in sympathy with Eddie’s as they all watch Buck ignore his coffee cup in favor of serving their kid from the tray. Then he signals to Eddie’s plate, who can’t not lift it for the offered chocolate tortes. Finally, there’s chocolate on everyone’s plates and Buck sits back to try a piece of brownie and Eddie can’t take it anymore.

He motions to the carafe and Buck perks up, finally reaching for his cup. But just as his fingers close around it, some idiot’s dog barks on the sideway, calling his attention away. His fingers flip the cup without ever looking at it, or the plate underneath it.

“Oh come on,” Umida moans.

The dog passes with its dumbass owner and Buck puts his cup back down, or tries to, but finds something in the way. He tries again, pushing the intrusion away with the bottom of the cup.

“Oh my god,” is whined in Mere’s left ear and when she turns her head she’s surprised to find not another Tilted Cactus employee but a customer dressed to the nines, pearls and all.

“Ma’am, did you —”

“Shh,” the woman returns, her eyes never moving from the window. Mere turns back too.

Finally, Buck has managed to push the offending items off the plate and settle his cup down and it’s a nail-biting few seconds where it actually looks like he’s going to reach for the carafe and go about his business.

But like a true wingman, the little kid points directly at it, prompting Buck to push the napkin aside and pick up — the ring.

Buck freezes, holding the ring between his thumb and index. His cheeks flush and a smile begins to break over his face before he looks startled and the smile falls abruptly away.

It’s about this time Eddie realizes that proposing by recreating the night they got together was never going to be the best idea when the impetus to their relationship was an engagement ring accidentally sent to the wrong person.

Eddie vaults out of his seat and into the empty one next to Buck, wrapping his hand around the one holding the ring, and bringing his other hand to his cheek to gently turn his head until Buck is looking at him. They can’t tell what he says, but they can watch Buck’s eyes fill with tears, watch as Eddie gestures to their son who’s smiling wide and reaching out for a hand, which Buck instantly provides. His attention comes back to Eddie then, who’s saying something that gets them both looking a little fragile and it’s hard to say if he actually popped the question yet but Buck is surging forward to kiss him hard and fast. Eddie gives as good as he’s getting for a moment before he slows them with small, gentle kisses. And when they finally break apart, Eddie plucks the ring from Buck’s fingers and slides it onto his ring finger as Buck watches, his eyes wide and half incredulous.

Outside, the nearby tables break out into applause, startling the trio and reminding the two men that they are indeed out in public. Eddie acknowledges the applause with an embarrassed hand and waits until they have a modicum of privacy again before taking Buck’s hand and kissing right near the where the ring now sits. He then reluctantly shuffles back into his seat.

Inside, Mere is hugging Umida to her with a strength buoyed by love. Around them, the staff are starting to disperse, some wiping their eyes, some with goofy grins on their faces.

“Young man,” the lady in the pearls says to Jerome, holding out her credit card, “I want you to charge that family’s meal to my card.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s very generous of you.”

The woman sniffs delicately and leaves without another word. Hopefully Jerome knows where she was sitting…

“I’m glad she did that,” Mere says into Umida’s shoulder, “I was going to, otherwise, and I’m a broke-ass student.”

“I would have pitched in,” Umida says, her voice soft and pensive. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Mere agrees, sliding off the bar counter for the last time. “Oh, hold on.”

She gets closer to the window and turns the flash off of her camera before taking a pic.

“I think that’s bordering on creepy now,” Umida says without judgement.

“It’s not for me.” Mere sends the pic off with a note and three ring emojis.

They don’t make it out of the restaurant before her phone dings.

“What does Tomas have to say?” Umida asks with a smirk.

Mere pulls up the text and reads, “Gays and lesbians. Both, at the same time. Never doubting Umida’s gaydar again.”

Umida laughs victoriously, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, and Mere lets her drag her by the hand down the street, letting the nostalgia from tonight settle in her chest.

If there’s anything she misses from working the restaurant scene, it’s getting this glimpse into people’s lives.

Yeah, most of the work was gross, obnoxious, or mind-numbing. But every now and again, she got to be a part of strangers’ stories. Got to be there for the happiest days like graduations, or bridal showers. And even the sadder stories could be beautiful sometimes, like when she got to be extra kind to the elderly woman coming into the restaurant alone for the first time in ten years, or watch a family have their last supper together before their kid moves away for school. It’s just all so human and some kind of wonderful.

She hopes her career as a paramedic will have just a little bit of that kind of magic.

[yuta-nakamots]

perfect - z.cl

Pairing - Chenle x Fem!Reader

Genre - fluff, angst, university!au, friends to lovers!au

Warnings -  alcohol consumption, mention of drunkeness, lots of arguments, heavy making out, breakups, contains an aged up chenle (26-ish) towards the end

Summary - He’s definitely not your knight in shining armor, he may not be the one you bring home to mother, but he’ll be the one to give you flowers. Chenle is not the right one for you, but he is for right now.

Word Count - 5.2k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from One Direction’s song ‘Perfect’ and inspired from the lyrics along with all the vlives where Chenle and the members have started yelling out the lyrics.This was supposed to come out back in January but school held it up and now Ana is gone hhhhh. I know she’s still on Tumblr but under a new url so if anyone wants to send this to her, to let her know that I did finish it, that would be nice. 

Taglist - @astroboy-lele​​​ @in-my-neofeelings​​​ || fill out this form if you’d like to join my general taglist ^^

Written for the Sometimes Letting Go… Collab originally hosted by @sunryu​ who unfortunately deactivated. 

When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell you were curious

The mutual attraction between you and Chenle was undeniable. Ever since the two of you first met as freshmen in an econ class, you knew he was your twin flame and he was yours. That initial meeting was almost comical, the way the professor said to pair up and talk to someone next to them for a bit and it seemed like everyone had turned away from you except for the boy sitting next to you.

It seems you both had the same realization as your heads turned and eyes met. “Well I guess you’re my friend for today,” he began, “hi, my name is Chenle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Y/n,” you told him, “the pleasure is all mine.”

“So, why are you in this class?” He asked, tapping his pen on his leather-bound planner.

You hesitated for a second as you thought about how much to tell him. “I’m majoring in business and this was just one of the mandatory classes in my plan.”

“Hm, same here,” Chenle shared, seeming the slightest bit amused at your similarity, “would you also happen to be in calculus this semester?”

“Section 3 at 10:30?” You counter.

Chenle broke into a smile, “that’s the one.”

“How about freshman seminar?” You asked.

“1:15 in the world language building?” Chenle offered, copying your answer from before.

“Wow,” your eyebrows were raised in actual disbelief, “did you steal my schedule or something?”

“No, but I do believe in fate,” the boy next to you confessed, “would you like to get lunch sometime before freshmen seminar?”

You nodded, “I’d like that,” you stopped mid-sentence when you remembered that you told your friends you’d eat with them, “I am gonna be eating with my friends though so I could introduce you to them if you’d like.”

“Want to bet that we have the same friends too?”

“No way, that would be too coincidental.”

And coincidental it was. Somehow your friends knew some of Chenle’s friends whether it be from high school activities, childhood friends, or even having just met in their own classes. Your small group of five had immediately doubled in size.

Of course, with such a large group of friends, there was much fun to be had and many memories to be made. During midterms is when you were thankful you were majoring in business and not something like biology or chemistry. You could still go out and have fun on weekends with Chenle and the majority of your friends, meanwhile a few poor souls had to stay back to study their ‘reaction mechanisms’ or whatever the heck those things were called.

You quickly found that you weren’t one for parties though you loved to hang out with your friends and have small little parties of your own in the dorms. Every single time, as you all got progressively drunker and started to clock out for the night, it was always you and Chenle left being the two most sober with no other choice but to take care of your friends over hushed conversations.

“How much vodka did Hannah even drink?” Chenle asked while you both worked on cleaning up the mess of solo cups and napkins surrounding your friend who had, unfortunately, drank over half of the bottle. You picked it up, waving it at Chenle to show him. “She’s gonna have a nasty hangover…or at least wake up super dehydrated.”

As you worked on laying a blanket across her, passed out on the floor, Chenle had managed to stuff all the napkins inside the cups he had collected and was busy aiming at the trash can across the room. Right as he was about to shoot, “miss!” you called out. The little stack of cups hit the rim of the plastic trash bin and fell to the floor. Chenle turned to you, sticking out his tongue and imitating the way you caused him to mess up before going to properly dispose of the rubbish.

Instead of simply placing it in the waste, he once again returned to where he stood before, with one eye shut, aiming for the bin. You let out a scoff, ready to disturb him once more. He shot you a glance, knowing what you were planning from the way you just stood watching him. But regardless, he tried again. “Airball” you sang as he released the short stack of cups, sending them flying to the foot of the bin.

Chenle let out a growl, childishly stomping his way over to you while you tried to quietly escape from his grasps through the mess of food and other miscellaneous items on the floor. From the hushed giggles and name-calling from the two of you as you both stumbled around the room, to the whispered late-night thoughts and affirmations spoken from your positions on the floor with your heads resting on the edge of a bed, you barely even noticed how fast time was passing.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “it’s my first time getting to live away from my parents and whenever I do go back, they’ll probably be expecting me to bring some girl with me.”

You turned to look at him, “why would they expect that?”

“They’re both getting old and want to retire soon,” Chenle started, “so the faster I get married and take over the company, the faster they’ll get to live out the rest of their lives,” he explained.

“Well that’s not very nice of them,” you commented, “what kind of parents would place such high responsibility on their child like that?”

“Mine I guess,” Chenle sighed.

After a moment of silence, you sat up, unsure what to make of the next words to come out of your mouth. “If you want, I could go with you.” Chenle looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Like, I could be your fake girlfriend or something so that they don’t bother you so much about finding one.”

“That’s…an idea,” he started, biting on the corner of his lip as he played out possible scenarios in his head. “I think that would only make it worse though since we’d both have to make up stories and tell the same information.”

“True. But we could at least make it look believable, don’t you think?” You reached over to pet Chenle’s head the same way you’ve seen him do to his friends. “Oh, Chenle, you’re so cute,” you cooed, “I can’t wait to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed your wrist and put it in your lap, not very keen on the show of affection. “Yeah, I think we’d look like a pretty convincing couple.”

“Do we look good together though?” You pondered. “If we were to show up to an event or something, would we make people stop and stare at us?”

“Anyone can do that if they wear something weird or do something out of the ordinary-“

“Okay but that’s not what I’m asking,” you interrupted, “I’m asking, would we look good together as a couple?”

Chenle shrugged apprehensively, “sure.” Your eyes bore into him as if forcing a more legit answer out of him. “Yes, I think we would look good as a couple.”

It was as if you and Chenle were made for each other. Whatever one did, the other was never too far behind. It was absolutely no surprise to your friends when you told them Chenle had asked you out and you became official. While your college careers continued and friends came and went, Chenle was always with you. He was your solid island in the middle of a tumultuous sea, your oasis in a dried desert. You didn’t need anyone else around to have fun, just him, just the two of you.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and if you like having secret little rendezvous

Being with Chenle was as wild as things could get. It meant impulsive plans and bad decisions. Weekend nights normally consisted of one of you driving with no destination in mind until someone got hungry. Even at that point, the night didn’t end.

Sometimes the two of you would stay out past midnight, not wanting to leave each other’s company just yet. The feeling of the wind whipping past you as Chenle drove or the thrill of gassing it down the freeway was almost dreamlike. One would think that at this point, you’d return home, but for you, your home was wherever Chenle was. If it meant staying in a small hotel room for the night drinking cheap wine out of paper cups then so be it, that was home.

“Baby, you already drank almost half of the bottle, leave some for me,” Chenle teased, his eyes glimmering under the low lighting. The brightness of the small lamp on the desk failed to reach where he was sitting, the cozy armchair too far in the corner for it to be illuminated.

“Come here and get some then,” you suggested, lazily winking at him before downing another shot-sized gulp and enjoying the burn from the liquid running down your throat. The bed you were sitting on wasn’t all that soft but you had already warmed up a little spot of it and gotten too comfortable to move.

Chenle raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Why not?” Your expression mirroring his.

“You wanna find out?

“Maybe I do.”

He let out a scoff and within a second he was on the bed, climbing up and settling over you. His warm breath fanned your neck, the scent of alcohol filling your senses. “Are you sure about that?”

“Fuck around and find out, handsome,” you taunted.

You had barely even finished your sentence before Chenle’s lips were on yours, his usual soft and pillowy lips became hot and heavy against yours under the guide of the fifteen-dollar wine. You were sure that you were definitely getting tipsy but Chenle’s love and passion were even more overwhelming. It was moments like this when you felt that you were drunk off of his love and it was absolutely intoxicating in the best way.

If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby I’m perfect

It was drunk weekends like this that led to a rocky start of the following week. It’s not that you and Chenle were bad students, it’s just that when you become totally infatuated with the person you love, you start to devote yourself to them instead of what actually needs to get done.

As sophomores in college, one would think that you’d have a little more self-control but with Chenle, you just couldn’t help it. He was worse than any drug you could ever take, to the point where your friends would have to intervene and keep you in your rooms until a substantial amount of work was done.

You called them annoying but really you should’ve been thankful to them for caring so much about you back then, and you are thankful, looking back on it. They always told you ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you wish you had listened to them. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have lost a relationship that you thought was practically flawless.

Perfect for you

In junior year, that is when your beautiful illusion finally began crumbling down. Your workloads grew heavier and your hours of sleep decreased. Chenle would often leave you on read, having opened your message in the middle of studying then forgotten to reply to it. Even when you childishly got upset at him for that, he’d always give you the same apology or buy you something cute as if money could shut you up.

With little to no distance between the two of you, it was easy for boundaries to be crossed and for problems to go unaddressed. You can feel like you know someone so well, that they’ll always understand what you mean and they can read your words like a book, but it didn’t seem that way anymore with Chenle.

He’d make fun of the way you always made him say ‘I love you’ at least once a day or some of your other pet peeves, including the way you had a Hello Kitty mouse pad that was ‘too childish for a college student to be using.’ It may have been out of love but it sure didn’t seem that way.

I might never be the hands you put your heart in or the arms that hold you any time you want them

Soon, the little pricks in your relationship spread past closed doors and into your schoolwork. Sharing a major and classes with your significant other was not exactly ideal, especially when they had different values and beliefs from you and had to argue for their reasoning.

“That just isn’t sustainable in the long run though,” you commented as you read through Chenle’s senior research report while seated opposite of him inside a library study room.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into his seat, about to repeat himself for the fourth time. “It’s not about sustainability, it’s about the profit margin that’s being made. What don’t you get?”

“It’s not good for the environment, it’s not good for the people working in the factories,” you point out, “I don’t get how you can subject these things onto people.”

“Y/n, we’re business majors,” he stated plainly, “we study money, the economy, sales, company relationships, we’re not here to be environmentalists. Things don’t have to last very long, so much as they make a profit.”

“But we should think about the impact of our future businesses and their longevity in the world-”

“You should think about passing this class and stop being so prissy and uptight about saving trees or whatever the fuck you’re going on about.”

You were absolutely shocked at the words that had just come out of his mouth. This wasn’t the first time he had seemingly degraded you in this manner, but when it came to school and your own work, you were deeply offended at what he had said, especially since both of you had spent many hours on your respective projects.

“Chenle,” you began softly, “tell me you didn’t mean that.”

He refused to meet your gaze, “If I told you that then I would be a liar.”

“Look, you can’t just spew whatever bullshit you want and just expect that people won’t get hurt,” you criticized, only to be cut off once more.

“Then maybe you should learn to not take everything so seriously,” he snapped back.

“I...I think we need a break.”

“Agreed.”

“No, from each other.” Chenle’s head whipped up to look at you, his eyes went wide when he realized what you were insinuating.

“Baby no, you know it’s not like that,” he started, but it was already too late. You blocked his voice out of your head as you packed your belongings, just wanting to get out of this room, wanting to get away from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had fought with him in this way but it felt like you had finally lost all your patience. You were tired of always being told you were wrong and having your thoughts and ideas invalidated. As you stormed away from the library, you realized that maybe you needed to let go of things that no longer brought you joy.

Sometimes letting go...is a new start

After that incident, you did indeed have a fresh start. You slowly removed Chenle from your life and just in time for graduation. Whenever he tried to approach you on campus, you always turned the other way even if it meant being late to class. Luckily, you didn’t have many shared classes with him anymore and you were all the more grateful for it right now.

You’d come back to your campus apartment with the occasional flower or sticky note left on your doorstep asking you to give him another chance but you simply didn’t have enough time or energy to care anymore. Commencement was approaching and you still had yet to hear back from any of the companies you had applied to for internships.

But that don’t mean that we can’t live here in the moment

One of your friends had mentioned that Chenle had already received news that he was accepted into his family’s business, a large company in China, and you wished you could’ve been there when he had read the email. You could practically hear his yell of delight, his laugh when he’d turn to hug you, even if it was practically guaranteed that he’d get in, you missed it all so much but there was no turning back now.

It wasn’t until after commencement did you receive your own letter of acceptance from one of the largest foreign trade companies in the area after you saw Chenle for the last time. “Zhong Chenle, Bachelor of Arts in business management.” You remembered the immense pride and pain you felt in your chest, watching him walk across the stage to claim his diploma as you sat clothed in the same cap and gown only a few rows away. You wished you could share your emotions with him, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours, he was no longer the man you first fell in love with.

‘Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Four years have passed since that moment at commencement. In those four years, you’ve climbed your way up in the company, taking a hold of a directing position in project development and management. With all your success though, there was always one failure that kept floating through your mind. The number of sleepless nights and wandering moments you’ve spent thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and the changes you should’ve made in your relationship have all decreased with time, but sometimes it all comes crashing back. You miss the memories you made with him and you miss being so young and naive.

Sometimes you managed to hear a thing or two about the company he worked for but you never paid much attention to it, always falling back into a spiral of guilt and calling yourself the sole reason why your relationship fell apart. Chenle would even pop into your mind at the weirdest times when you’d be thinking of anything but him.

Like the other day as you were staring out the window of your office, watching people and cars pass by, your memory of Chenle speeding down the empty highway suddenly resurfaced. The adrenaline you felt from the buildings and signs whizzing by, the slight buzz of alcohol you felt in your system, the cool air coming in from Chenle’s window, the warmth of his hand in yours. You couldn’t help but smile at it fondly yet it turned sour when you thought of the last time he ever drove you somewhere. You had argued with him about something dumb, you couldn’t even remember it at this point, and you even slammed the door before storming off to who knows where.

Or some months ago, you were interviewing possible new hires for the company and met someone from Puerto Rico. Once you finished the interview with them, you sat at the wooden desk while remembering the way you teased Chenle because he didn’t know how to pronounce Puerto Rico. You thought it was cute and even told him that, but it ended up in another fight because you may have spent a little too long dwelling on the topic.

But oftentimes when you find yourself thinking about him, you’d wonder how he’s doing. Is he happy where he is right now? What kinds of things is he doing for his job? Has he found a new girlfriend? What if he dated many other people after me? What if he’s married? Would he have children by now? Or most importantly, ‘does he still love me?’

And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce

Regardless, you’d shake off all these thoughts and continue about your day, completing the tasks assigned to you. The majority of your time was spent conducting interviews and deliberating with the directors about who to hire for what position. It was quite fun, really. You got to meet all of the new hires before they came into the company and you felt empowered by the fact that you would be indirectly responsible for the future of the company in this sort of way.

On one particular day, everything felt like it was going just a little too well. Your hair was done just the right way, traffic was light, your coworkers seemed to all be in a good mood, but most importantly, there were no fat folders sitting on your desk, waiting for you to go through. Just a single sheet of paper with the list of the new hires coming in for their briefings along with the notes you were required to go over.

You didn’t bother checking it, seeing as how you had exactly two minutes left before the scheduled meet time, which was exactly the amount of time you needed to head downstairs to the conference room. You really should have checked the list though. It would have prepared you for the shock of seeing a certain someone sitting at the table in a suit that looked all too good on him.

“Zhong Chenle?” You audibly gasped, pausing in your tracks the moment you entered the conference room.

His eyes were already on you as if he knew you’d be the person to walk through that doorway at that exact moment. “That would be me.”

The other new hires looked around at each other sharing all types of glances. Worried, suspicious, surprised, questioning, nothing really all that positive. “Sorry, he’s just an old friend that I was surprised to see,” you quickly explained, trying to pull yourself back together.

Throughout your whole presentation, it was like all the attention in the world was directed at you. Never had you felt this nervous before doing something that was supposed to be so familiar. Every time your eyes glanced over in Chenle’s direction, his gaze managed to catch yours as if he was trying to speak to you without any words.

By the time you adjourned the meeting and sent the new hires off to their respective departments, it felt like you had run a marathon. Your palms were clammy, your legs shaky, your mind racing, and your heart was pounding.

Chenle was the only one left in the conference hall while you pushed in all the chairs and turned off the lights. “Looks like these years have done you well.” He commented, finally able to take in the sight of you now that there was no one else around.

“I could say the same for you.” His shoulder had gotten broader and any childlike features had left his face. He truly looked like he had grown into a man. The dark gray suit he was wearing fit the lines of his body so well, it made you think he could’ve been a model instead of simply becoming an office worker. “So how have you been?”

He did a classic Chenle shrug, “nothing much really. I started off being just a marketing employee, did some work, and got myself to be chief marketing officer. It seems you’ve gotten much further than I have, though. Project development and management?”

“Oh, it’s not anything huge. I just help with planning things out and doing all the paperwork for its execution. I only do interviews and help with hiring when we’re in season, which would be why I’m here right now,” you explained, motioning for him to follow you out of the room. “Your new supervisor is probably wondering where you are. I sent the rest of the newbies a few minutes ago already. I’ll just tell him that you had a few questions about our operations.”

“Wow, cheating the system? That’s not the way I remember you,” Chenle said with mock disapproval. You led him to the elevators, pleasantly surprised to find one still on your floor after you hit the ‘up’ button. Your eyes met with his while you gestured for him to go in. “Ladies first,” he had a cat-like grin on his face as you rolled your eyes and stepped into the elevator.

“So why did you decide to leave your company? Weren’t you going to take it over someday?” You ask over the squeaking of the doors closing.

Chenle leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, “I still plan to but I felt like they were just kind of babying me or treating me differently because they knew of my background,” he explained. You could only nod to acknowledge the fact that you were listening. “I told my parents that I wanted to get experience outside of the company and they didn’t really understand at first until I showed them my point of view and how it’s a little worrisome to perhaps, learn how to cook when you always have chefs around you giving you instructions down to the tiniest things.”

The elevator came to a stop and the heavy doors opened onto the floor Chenle would be working on. “But why this company? We’re not even closely related to yours?” You led him down the hallway in the direction of his supervisor's office.

“My parents were the ones who recommended it, actually. It would be a little risky to go to a neighboring one in the case of it being viewed as a betrayal or like some kind of inside mission so they said I should just come back here since I’d probably have a high chance of acceptance-“ you put a hand up to stop him from talking, seeing how many of the other employees had started to look at him due to his volume.

“Chenle, must I remind you that this is an office?” You gritted out, embarrassed in front of your colleagues.

He shook his head before turning to the mass of them, bowing politely then continuing in the same direction as before. Once both of you reached the head office at the end of the hallway, Chenle spoke up once more. “By any chance, are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” you began, “what are you hinting at?”

“Just seeing if you’d like to go out to dinner so we can properly catch up, I guess,” he proposed bashfully.

You hummed in thought, “mmm, put in a good word for me with your supervisor and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Meet me in the lobby at 5:30, don’t be late,” you told him before knocking on the wooden door in front of you and allowing Chenle in.

If you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect

You thought Chenle’s wine phase in college would be just that, a phase, but it really wasn’t. He had ordered an expensive bottle of merlot even with all your insistence that you wouldn’t be drinking and even made him promise that he’d be sober enough to drive himself back to wherever his accommodations were.

He made a face of fake dismissal before picking up your last conversation. “So anyway, as I was saying earlier, my parents suggested that I come back here, especially since I got my degree from the university so I’m bound to get in.”

You were about to open your mouth to say something like “getting in is not a guarantee” especially coming from your experience in doing interviews and having to decide which applicants to turn down, but you decided against it.

“Initially, I was a little against it since I didn’t want to come back to somewhere I’ve already stayed at for some time,” he confessed, “but after I did some research on the company and found out that you’re one of the associates, I was a little more open to the idea.”

There was a break of silence while you started to link your thoughts together. “So you came here because you found out that I work here?”

“Yes, but also no,” Chenle stated, blurting the second part out rather quickly when he saw the shift in your expression. “It is true that I wanted to see you and how you were doing but it’s not just that. I figured that if you worked here and had such a high position, it must be a good place to work.”

“But what I’m hearing is…you came here because of me,” you state bluntly though your heart couldn’t help but let out a cheer of delight.

Chenle redirected his gaze at the neighboring tables. “You could say that, sure.”

“Chenle, what do you want out of this? What do you want out of me specifically?” You contended. His eyes continued to flit around the lowly lit space, not daring to meet yours unlike earlier in the conference hall. “What? Did you come back just expecting me to run into your arms? Did you think we would just pick up where we left off?”

Now he looked down at the white tablecloth, as if in shame. “Would it be wrong of me to ask for a second chance?”

You too joined him in staring at the table, wishing that he had answered ‘no’ to your previous questions. “It wouldn’t exactly be wrong, but it’s not right either. I’d be willing to give you a second chance if we agree to not call it that, but rather a promise.”

He finally looked up at you again, his dark pupils catching the dim golden lights above him. “A promise?”

You nodded. “We’re older now, we’re fully grown adults with jobs to do and taxes to pay. We’re no longer the same carefree college students we used to be.”

“Well yeah, obviously-“

“No, listen,” you interject, cutting him off, “we can’t just recklessly play with each other’s minds and feelings like we used to. No more games and no more ‘next times.’ If we try again, I want this to be a promise that we’ll both do better because we can and we want to.”

“If it’s a promise that you want then,” Chenle held out his hand with his pinky finger extended, “it’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

You linked your pinky with his before bringing your thumbs together and sealing the promise. Matching smiles appeared across both of your faces as you stepped into a new chapter of life with Chenle by your side once more.

Sometimes letting go is…perfect. So let’s start right now

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Tag list form

A/n: hello peoples!! I’m so excited to FINALLY post the first chapter of this fic!!! I’ve been working on it for a long time, and after a few unpleasant delays, it’s finally happening 😁. While this isn’t my first fic, this is my first NHL fic, and the first fic I’m posting on Tumblr, so I’m a little nervous. This first chapter is mostly the set up to the main story, this is reader’s side of things with a flashback story. Chapter two will be mostly from Elias’s point of view. The rest of the chapters will switch back and fourth between the two.

CREDIT: Finally, before we get started I have to shout out my proofreaders. Y’all put up with me and my insanity: @siriushxney @iateyourdonuts @petey-patty @hufflepuff-girlx @cherrylita @immmbabyyygraceee @💕💕And specifically @imagines-r-s ASH!!! Babes, you have been the best and most supportive friend I could’ve asked for during this. You boosted my confidence about this fic and I have no idea what I’d do without you 😁😁

Without further ado, let’s get started shall we!! (Sorry for the long A/N, it’ll only be for this first chapter)

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of cursing, friends with benefits but like...just cuddling???, references to iCarly, mentions of One Tree Hill.

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: (i suggest having these ready before you read)

Y/C/N/N= your cute nick name, only Markstrom calls you it (you’ll see why) this can be either a pet name you like, or a nick name you already have.

Y/N/N= your nick name, Brock, Quinn, and a few others call you this, it’s more of a playful name. Again, this can be a nickname you already have (if you don’t have one I suggest something stupid (sounds like something Stech or Brock would come up with)

Y/N= this is your first name, only Elias calls you this unless it’s a serious situation, or you’re in trouble, or Brock is being an ass. (If it wasn’t clear before...your last name is Boeser)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: you have a hardcore crush on your brothers best friend, who also happens to barely speak to you...it’s a slight predicament.

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

(This is set in the 2021 season, however, because of my denial, Marky and Stech are still in Vancouver and were never traded... also no Covid. however the season was still delayed just to make it easier to follow.)

Present (Feb. 2021)

You’ve always been best friends with your older brother, you never had any real issues when you were younger and you were inseparable. So much so in fact, that once you graduated early a little less than two years ago (June 2019), he asked you to move to Vancouver and live with him. He was always so protective of you and you appreciated everything he has done in your life. One of the best parts about Brock being your older brother was the people he introduced to you. You aren’t very social and god knows how much of a people person your brother is. Once you had moved in, Brock quickly introduced you to the team. And with your double major in Statistics: Data Sciences and Sports Management, you were able to secure a job with the team. Quickly, you found yourself with a second family, one with many members.

Quinn Hughes is your best friend. when you met him about a year and a half ago, you hit it off immediately. With both of you being the same age and not very social, there was an obvious connection there. When Brock and The boys  go out, it is you and Quinn who stay in and watch shows on the couch (your favorite being New Girl). Huggy Bear is so sweet and you tell him EVERYTHING, even things you’d never tell your brother. You are still thanking the draft lottery every day that the Canucks received the 7th overall pick that gave you your bestie.

Thatcher Demko AKA Dems AKA Thatch AKA baby goalie is the sweetest and most hilarious guy you know. He is always looking after you just like Brock, but he is also one of the most annoying guys you know. When you’d first met you had the biggest crush on him. You told Quinn as much and he gave you so much shit for it. That crush was short-lived though, once you found out how obnoxious he could be. You still love him, just as a friend. Though Quinn never forgets to remind you of the crush that once was.

Bo Horvat is like another big brother to you. Sure you have Brock, but he’s your best friend. Bo, however, is the person you go to when you needed advice. Holly is one of the only WAGs you’ve become close with. She and you consistently have wine and gossip nights, of which Quinn is sometimes in attendance. Plus, you and Quinn are an amazing babysitting team for Gunnar if you have anything to say about it. 

Troy Stecher is the annoying older brother you never had. He always makes fun of you, calls you names, and bullies you in the loving way brothers do. And he never hesitates to come to you if he ever needs girl advice, which seems to happen a lot.

JT was just like Bo, except he is waaay more protective of you, maybe even a bit more than brock. He doesn’t have a sister and when you met, he made it his job to never see you get hurt. Seriously, one day a guy was bugging you at the bar, and both Brock and Bo were struggling to hold him back when he saw him slap you on the ass as you walked away. 

Jacob Markstrom, AKA Marky, AKA Giraffe (pronounced like it is in one of your favorite vines), AKA your cuddle buddy for the past few seasons. Both being single, you felt lonely sometimes and Quinn wasn’t much of a hugger (despite what the nickname might have you believe). Thatcher had offered but Marky, though just as social, is much more laid back. It also helps that he is 6’6 putting him over a foot taller than you. So during movie nights, or late nights at the bar, he is the side you lean on. Of course, you made it abundantly clear to most of the boys and yourselves that you were just friends. As sweet as he was and as great of a boyfriend as he would’ve been, he wasn’t quite your type and your personalities clashed.

Then there was Elias Pettersson, the tall, skinny, Swedish guy you knew as Petey. The guy who looked at you often and barely spoke a word directed towards you. He was Brock's best friend and he came over all the time, you didn’t have an issue with him, and you couldn’t deny he was funny, and from what you’ve heard he is a very kind person. So naturally, he was exactly your type. You’ve had a massive crush on him for a while now, somehow despite the lack of conversation. And the few times he has talked to you, he’s seemed so perfect, but there are only a few times you can remember. 

Right now, as you're on your way to the Canuck’s break room your brother texted you to meet him in, you try to recall those few times, specifically the one where your crush on him truly developed.

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

FLASHBACK (some time in January, 2020)

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

You, Quinn, and Jacob were laying on the L-shaped couch in ‘The Boeser apartment’, you were cuddled under the blanket with Jacob, laying on the section perpendicular to the TV, your heads at the corner. Quinn was on the other side of the couch, his head right next to yours. it was about 7 o’clock and the episode of One Tree Hill you were watching had just ended and you three had not eaten dinner yet. As the countdown for the next episode started, your stomach growled and you got a look from Quinn and a giggle from Jacob. 

“You hungry Y/C/N/N?” Jacob asked.

You looked up at him and giggled, “maybe just a little bit.”

“Y/N/N, you know what sounds amazing?” Quinn asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to each other and you both smirked knowing you were thinking the same thing.

“Spaghetti tacos!!” You both said. 

Ever since you were about 10 and you watched iCarly on TV, you had always wanted to try them. It had become an inside joke between you and Quinn for quite some time as he had the same desire as you to see how good they actually were.

“We should totally try them tonight!!” Quinn was quite excited.

“I’m so confused right now,” Jacob chimed in.

“They’re from a show! They take spaghetti and put it in taco shells,” you explained.

“Ahh, hence the name.” he nodded.

“Exactly,” Quinn said.

You jumped up from the couch excitedly and ran straight to your kitchen.

“Ok, we have spaghetti, spaghetti sauce, ground beef, taco shells, aaaand..... by chance do either of you know how to make good meatballs?”

“You’re asking the Swedish guy if he knows how to make meatballs?” Jacob replied.

“Not Swedish meatballs, Italian, stupid Giraffe,” you retorted. 

“Gross,” he said with a disgusted look.

“Ooo my mom made the best Italian meatballs, let me call her to see if she can send me the recipe!” Quinn said with a big smile.

Quinn exited the kitchen and ran to your room to call his mom. 

“You know, I’ve never seen him so excited about anything,” Marky said with a laugh. 

“Quinn loves his food,” you replied.

“Are Brock and Thatch having dinner with us ?”

“I’ll ask.”

You started boiling the water for the pasta, and you cooked part of the ground beef for the meat sauce. Then you texted Brock:

Y/N/N: hey, you want me to make you dinner

Brock: Yeah, who all is there?

Y/N/N: the usual

Brock: Huggy and Marky?

Y/N/N: yep, so do you want some?

Brock: Yeah, and make enough for another person too

Y/N/N: ok

You figured it was Dems since that’s who he went to hang out with when he left 5 hours ago. 

You continued to cook when Quinn came in and grabbed a bunch of stuff from the pantry and cabinets. “Did your mom tell you how to make them?” you questioned your frantic best friend.

“Yes she did and she sent me the recipe too.”

“Coolio,” you reply.

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

You were almost done cooking, the pasta was done, Quinn had put his meatballs in the oven and there were only 5 minutes left on the timer. And the sauce had about 2 minutes to simmer.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot what to do when they're almost done, she does this thing, I have to call her,” Quinn said with a panicked look on his face. He ran back to your room.

The front door to your apartment opened quickly, both boys laughing, “ahh, shit,  my brother’s calling me,” Brock said as he ran back to his room.

“Why does everyone feel the need to exit the room for phone calls?” you asked Jacob.

He shrugged with a giggle, “I don't know, maybe they don’t trust us,” he said in a sarcastically dramatic tone grasping his chest.

The door closed slowly and you glanced at the doorway where you thought you’d see the ever adorable goalie, Thatcher Demko, instead, you saw the adorable, slender, tall blonde you’d seen all the time, but never had a one on one interaction with... except the first time you met, when he told you that you looked pretty.

“Hi, Petey!” Jacob said as he slipped behind you to watch you mix the sauce, he stood over you looking at the sauce and put his hand on your waist.

“Hi,” he replied, his smile from before had faded.

“Looks so good Y/C/N/N,” Jacob said with a kiss on your cheek, a regular action. 

“Thanks, Giraffe, can you grab the taco shells?”

He grabbed them easily from the top shelf (tall ass bitch -_-), and moved behind you, placing his hands on your waist yet again, to move you to the side. “I've gotta run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back”

“Ok, you have fun with that,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly, was only you and Elias in the room, and the silence was deafening.

“So what are we eating?” he said, pulling your attention to his bright blue eyes.

“Um, spaghetti tacos, they're from a tv sho-”

“Like from iCarly?” he interrupted.

“...Uh yeah? How'd you know?” you couldnt pull your attention away from his eyes, ‘they are just so beautiful,’ you thought somehow you hadnt noticed this within the on and a half years you’d known him.

“We also get Nickelodeon, you know,” he said while throwing you a smirk that made your stomach flip. 

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you replied, feeling just a little embarrassed. 

“iCarly was my favorite, actually.” 

“Yeah, it was mine too,” you said, smiling back, looking at the way he just lit up your kitchen with his presence.

You both stood there for a second just looking at the other, “So how long have-,” he started.

“OKAY,” Quinn unknowingly interrupted, “so she told me what to do, turns out I have to put sauce over them for the last 2 minutes, so Y/N/N can you just put a tablespoon of sauce on each ball then put them back in for two minutes?” 

“Yeah of course. Elias, you were saying?” you looked back at the Swede.

“Oh it's nothing,” he looked down at his shoes. 

“Ok, Y/N/N you need to call mom and tell her we’re fine and that she doesn't need to worry about us please, Paul says she’s stressing,” Brock said as he entered the room.

“When is she not stressing about us? I’ll call her after dinner, how's dad?”

“Doin’ good, nothing has changed or progressed or whatever since we were home last,” Brock moved and sat on the couch letting out a big sigh.

“That’s good,” you let out a sigh.

“Petey, come here, we’re watching Gossip Girl” Brock shouted at the Swede.

“Ooo what episode are you guys on?” you asked. Brock had mentioned how he was making him watch the show you two had watched about 5 times together. 

“Just after Chuck gets Dan kidnapped at Yale.” 

“Oh so you still hate Chuck?” you asked Elias.

“Ew, yeah...wait is that gonna change?” Petey said with a scoff.

“Uh....,” you stalled.

“Y/N shut up, don't spoil it,” Brock interrupted before you could make it worse.

“Ok well, dinner is ready so just start the show after and we can all watch it together.”

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

“Oh my god, these are actually amazing,” Quinn said with his mouth full.

“I know, I did not think this was gonna taste good,” Jacob added.

“Hey!” you said, offended.

“Y/C/N/N, you know I love your cooking, it was the idea of the meal that I doubted,” Jacob said leaning into your side and putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmmhmm, suuure,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hallå Marky, ni två är söta (hey Marky, you two are cute),” Petey said, confusing you, Quinn and Brock with the sudden change in language.

Jacob, being oblivious to what Petey was implying, just said, “tack broder (thanks, bro).”

Little did you know what was going on in Elias’s head.

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

PRESENT

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

Before that night, you never really thought of Elias in a romantic way. You'd been around him quite a lot, seeing as how, seemingly, is in your apartment more than his own. Sure, you knew he was cute and very sweet from what you'd seen, but up until that point, you'd never had a one-on-one interaction with him. That interaction, however small, was the beginning of an obsessive crush. Quinn was the first to point it out, you started listening closely any time he talked, attempting to converse with him, and thinking about him on a daily basis even when you didn't see him. And due to your stubbornness, no matter how unrequited your crush seemed, it never faltered. You had always thought he hated you, or maybe he just tolerated you because you were Brock’s sister, and you were always around. 

However, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

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

Tag list: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 12- Your Mother's Daughter

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Warning for canon typical violence

Masterlist Kofi

Bakugo’s text apology, believe it or not, was more eloquent than the one he offers in person but you appreciate the gesture and the brief hug he gives you when he realizes you’ve been crying. “It’s fine dumbass, you made it to the finals now just give it your all,” he huffs. Kirishima also pulls you into a hug, much longer than the one Bakugo had given you, and spends the whole time giving you a motivational speech about how incredibly cool and manly you are and how sure he is that you’ll do even better in the finals. You really are lucky to have the friends that you do. Especially since you anticipate the crowd is about to sour towards you.

All too quickly it’s time to return to the stadium where Principle Nezu is waiting on a raised platform with a box filled with slips of paper with bracket placements on them. The energy in the stadium is electric as the crowd anxiously waits to see what the bracket will be. It’s different than with the first years, where everyone’s an unknown. The crowd recognizes most of the names now from news reports and hero rescues. Dyed hair could only hide you for so long. “We will now call up the finalists one at a time to draw lots for the bracket!” Nezu announces. One by one you hear others around you getting called up. Bakugo, Midoriya, Shoto, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, Denki, Sero, Hitoshi Shinso, Neito Monoma, Tokoyami, Iida, Uraraka, Jiro, Ibara Shiozaki and Itsuka Kendo all get called to roaring cheers and applause. That’s 15 names. The little fucking rodent had left you for last. Probably likes the idea of the dramatic reveal. “And last but not least, our 16th finalist (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Nezu calls and it’s like the air is sucked from the room as the crowd gets quiet and then starts murmuring to themselves. You keep your head held high as you walk to the stage even as you notice some of your classmates staring at you and the members of class b whispering. You take the last remaining lot with your head held high, throwing a wink at a nearby camera to further show them their displeasure won’t deter you.

You feel the stares of your classmates as you walk back down the stage. It’s them you really care about in all honesty. 3A had been nothing but kind to you since your arrival and it would hurt a little for their friendship to sour (you’re definitely not thinking about someone in particular at that statement) but before anyone can say anything Bakugo and Kirishima are standing next to you protectively. Kirishima links his arm through yours. “Come on, let’s head to the stands while we wait for them to start the first match,” Kiri grins at you. You give him a grateful smile and are pleasantly surprised when the rest of class a seems to fall in line behind you. None of them look at you any differently, there’s no shift in the atmosphere or added tension. Even as you can feel the glares of the crowd on your back, your new friends shield you from it until you’re in the safety of the tunnel and heading up to the stands.

“You and (y/n) stopped talking about 10 years ago right?” Midoriya asks Shoto as they walk at the back of the pack of class A students. “Yes,” Shoto confirms. “So that’s about when Black Storm was-“ “Yes.” “So Endeavor made you stop talking to her so you wouldn’t be associated with Black Storm.” “Basically.” “Jesus.” Midoriya places a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. Shoto briefly acknowledges the gesture but says nothing as everyone settles into their seats. Nezu then begins to explain the rules of the last game. It’s essentially a wrestling match, the whole stadium is fair game and you win if you can pin your opponent for five seconds or completely immobilize them. Injuries are fine but take it too far and Eraserhead and Cementoss will shut it down. You nod along as the bracket is projected onto the monitors. Your first round is with the Neito Monoma kid, you don’t know much about him, just that the mere mention of his name has Bakugo growling “You better beat that fucking extra.” “Like I’d get eliminated in the first round,” you scoff back, confidence starting to build again as your classmates continue to support you.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a guy with a large shock of purple hair and bags for days under his eyes leaning down to wave at you. You hear Denki yelp and nearly fall out of his chair nearby but ignore it. “(Y/l/n) huh?” he asks, a slight smile. “Yea. Problem with that?” you ask. “Not at all. Villain quirks gotta stick together right?” he smirks as he offers his hand. “I’m only half villain quirk but sure,” you smirk but then you freeze, eyes glazing over before you can reach to take his hand. He smirks back at you as your hand moves to shake his without your permission. You find yourself reaching for your phone, it unlocking once it recognizes your face, and then going to your contacts before plugging in a new number. You snap back to awareness a little stunned, looking between the new contact in your phone and the baffling boy with the mind control quirk who’s currently walking away. “If you wanted my number you could’ve just asked like a normal person!” you call after him. Unbeknownst to you, Shoto watches the entire interaction with barely concealed jealousy.

It’s not long before it’s finally time for your first match. The others had briefed you on Monoma’s quirk, warning you about his copying ability. “Can he copy a quirk if he doesn’t know you have it?” you ask curiously. “I don’t know actually. Most people don’t have two quirks you know, although I don’t necessarily see how it would help?” Kirishima offers with a shrug, having already made it through his first round and into the table of 8. “Trust me, I have a game plan,” you assure him. “See you guys on the other side,” you tell him as you walk down to the tunnel to wait for them to announce your entrance. “And on our left, here she comes. Ready to blaze her own trail and show the whole world that she is more than her name, it’s (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Present Mic’s voice booms over the loud speaker as you walk into the stadium properly. The crowd boos and you must admit it stings a little but you aren’t entirely unaccustomed to the negative attention. Your eyes wander over to the section where your friends are. Bakugo gives you a nod as Denki, Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Jiro scream and cheer for you, their bodies half over the railing. They can’t drown out the rest of the stadium but they’re trying to and that warms your heart. You grin at them before locking eyes back on your opponent, stepping up to the start point they’ve indicated. “START!” Present Mic’s voice booms and immediately you lunge forward, drawing shadows into your palm before pushing them forward to race towards Monoma.

You’re not shocked when Monoma counters with shadows of his own, knocking yours away, but you can’t help but grin when you notice he’s producing shadows from both of his palms instead of just one. “I should’ve recognized you had Daddy’s quirk the minute I saw you during the qualifying rounds,” Monoma needles and you know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you but you can’t help how your temper starts to flare. He may be using your quirk but he’s clumsier with it, the result of picking it up for the first time now versus your years and years of experience. You send forward another burst of shadows making sure to get your left hand caught in the blast so it looks like both are doing the work. As Monoma clumsily sends forward his own to redirect yours you close the distance in, sweeping his legs out from underneath him. He quickly rolls before you can try to pin him down and you just barely manage to dodge the kick he’d aimed at you in retaliation. “You were there weren’t you? The day your father went rogue,” he taunts. You suck in a harsh breath allowing him an opportunity to lash out at you again and you wince a little at the sharp sting it leaves on your cheek where he’d managed to cut you with your own quirk. Your first instinct is to heal it but you hold off. Not yet. It’s not time to reveal your hand yet. “How the fuck do you know that?” you grit out before lashing out at him harder and faster. He extends both palms out, shadows flying forward to counter your own and as his hands retract you can see black crawling up his arms. Good. Your plan is working. “Oh the little daddy daughter field trip was all over the news sweetheart, we all know you were there to watch the carnage. Why do you think no one trusts you?” Monoma taunts. He fires off both palms again but this time instead of dispersing the shadows you raise both your hands, again feigning that both are doing the work, you push back against his, the shadowy energy growing and growing as you’re both slowly pushed backwards by the force of it. You hold strong though even as more and more black veins crawl up your right arm and your forearm begins to burn with the pain. You can hear Monoma grunting in pain on the other side so you kick it up a notch, fighting through your own pain until finally he breaks. He releases with a gasp, hunching forward with the pain. He looks up expecting to see you in a similar state but instead he finds you glowing as you stride towards him, the black veins rapidly fading as the light you radiate chases them back. Once you're in front of him he barely has any time to react before you deck him across the face, knocking him to the ground. You put one foot on his chest to keep him down, increasing the strength of your healing quirk just so that you’ll glow a little more brightly as you lean down to look him directly in the eye. “I may be my father’s daughter,” you start as the monitor counts down five seconds, “but I’m also my mother’s.”

The countdown finishes and an airhorn blares to signal your victory. You turn away from him, leaving him gaping at you like a fish on the ground as you walk back to the tunnel. The booing of the crowd that follows you out is music to your ears.

As far as you’re concerned? They can die mad about it.

A/N: Ngl I made Shinso so smooth in this one I was like alternate route? 💀 But n o lmao this is Shoto’s fic. OH ALSO we got even more about what happened when (y/n) was 8! I love mixing in her lore, I've actually had the very basic idea for her backstory and potentially where I’m going to take this fic after the sports festival arc since when I first started watching the show. The fight with Monoma in particular has been plotted out literally since I watched the final exam arc I think back when I was primarily a Todoroki simp oop so it's been really fun for me to get to write it here considering I never thought it would be a concept that left my head.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @mindofess @todoplusultra @oliviasslut

[spookysmujer]

Issues, O. Diaz

Summary: Spooky and his S/O having jealousy issues at a party.

requested by: @gemini0410

warnings:  Angst, semi-toxic!Oscar, f r e a k y shet 👅 (smut/18+)

A/N: Hi everyone, I finally got a new laptop!! Which means that I can post again, f i n a l l y. I’ll be working on requests that I’ve gotten nearly over a month ago, I feel so bad! This turned out more smutty more than anything, LOL. As usual, please show some love: heart it, comment, reblog, follow and turn on the notifs for when I post, thank you for requesting! And again I’m so sorry this took so long to get done.

(gif belongs to @merakiaes 🦋 miss you babes!)

It had been a long day, the ache in your shoulders prominent as you’re staring down at diagrams on the too thick stack of papers. You sigh as you blink away the tiredness. The half day shift kicked you in the ass as you’re now doing a late night study in the community college library.

The face clock creeping towards 10:45pm, you’ve been here for 2 hours trying to finish up this section that you’ve been struggling with. An exam around the corner. However, the night is still young as your boyfriend, the infamous Oscar ‘Spooky’  Diaz always says. You promised him earlier in the day that you’d stop by the usual weekend party at his place, though you said you’d show up by 8:30pm. 

Where you at 

Nena, hello???

Puta, don’t come by then. 

I got all these other hynas anyways 

You pick up your phone again, the 4th time in a half an hour span, seeing another message come through from Oscar. He has issues when people don’t stick to their word, for everything and anything, if you slip up on your promises you’re scum of the earth. That’s why he reacts the way he does, like he is now with the nonsense. 

“Okay, I am all studied out and I gotta go, before he sends someone to get my ass. Thanks for studying with me, I appreciate it.” You begin to collect all your papers and stationary items which consists of far too many highlighters. “Yeah, of course no problem, whenever you need it!”

After gathering all your things and exiting the library, you send a text to Oscar that you are finally on your way, though he reads it and doesn’t reply. By this alone, you know it will be a long night ahead of you. Issues run deep between the two of you. It falls more heavy on Oscar’s side, you tend to be a bit more tame. When it comes to him, he can make it very... personal.

The music is bumping, feeling the bass of it as you step out of your car. The front lawn filled with a few people, most of them all drunk and half asleep already. You trek through the house, keeping an eye for a hot-headed Santo. The idea of a red Oscar making you laugh to yourself. After finally getting through the house to the backyard, you spot him chatting away with other santos.

One of them happens to look your way and nudges your boyfriend to which he follows his line of sight and spots you. He stares at you with a look of almost disgust. He doesn’t move from his spot for a moment, finishing his conversation and then his beer.

You sigh, walking over to the cooler to get a beer because though you aren’t much of a drinker you know how tonight will pan out, so all the help you can get to get through it.

“Why you here for?” He says, sporty the signature ‘Spooky’ look. You know how he likes to play this game.

You take a sip of the cold, bitter liquid, “Here for the party like I told you I would be.” He lets out a breathy laugh, sliding his tongue between his lips while looking down at you. “Yeah, told you not to come by since you wanna be fake. Show up by 8:30 my ass, pendeja.”

Now the tone his voice is changing, he’s looking for a fight. Though Oscar can hold his alcohol, it does boost ego more than usual. You roll your eyes, shifting your weight onto your other leg and shoving your free hand into your pants pocket.

“I told you that, yes. But I did tell you that I’d be studying after work so you know what that means too. I’m here though so let’s enjoy the night, hm?” You pull your hand out of your pocket to wrap your arm around his waist but he stops you, “Nah, you didn’t have to go out of your way to come, go. Go back to studying with your puta friends.”

And he knows exactly how to get under your skin, talking all kinds of shit.

Before you can retort back, your phone buzzes in your pocket. Your eyes still on Oscar’s, him with a sly smirk on his face. You pull your phone out and see it lighting up with your friends name, Ricardo.

That ‘Game Over’ voices play in your head as you stare down at the illuminated phone screen, you click the lock button a couple of times to end the call and you quickly shove your phone in your pocket once more. 

Oscar’s eyes flick up to yours as you look back up at him, his lip twitching up. Damn it, you say to yourself. You should have ignored it and continued your pursue on your boyfriend.

When Oscar is really upset, he tends to be quiet, that’s when his thoughts are louder than his words. He stares at you for a moment more then he steps back and away from you, still no words.

“Babe.” You call out, “Oscar!” This time a little louder but he continues with his back towards you and into the house. You let out another sigh which has to be the 10th since you arrived. Heading into the house to see where he went off to, you just in time as he slips through the front door as he slams it behind him. 

When you step out of the house you see him unlocking the car door of his impala. “Where are you going?” You call out to him as he slips in. You hurry over in time to catch the door with your hand before he can close it, “Let go.”

Oscar’s voice is eerily calm as he keeps his line of sight off of you and straight ahead. He is holding onto the door, waiting for you to let go. You pull it more open and stepping closer, “Where are you going?”

He scoffs at you, “You seem real interested in me now but where was all this at 8:30? Hm? Studying with that pendejo, huh? Bet you weren’t even fuckin’ studying.”

The venom in his voice begins to drip at you, his eyebrows touching at this point. The fact you were late and also it was because you were studying with a dude is fuel added to the fire. 

Issues ran deep between you two, especially the jealous issues. Oscar couldn’t help but get insecure, you are a gem. He’s damaged goods and you always remind him that he is more than you thought you deserved, but moments like this one though? Only infiltrates his thoughts more.

“Oscar, Ricardo is my accounting partner. We work in pairs this semester. So yes, we were studying. And you know I was, don’t start that shit.” You explain to him to which he doesn’t immediately reply. A sign that he is trying to reason with his demons.

He pulls the keys out of the ignition, dropping his hands to his lap, “Why’d you hurry your phone away then? Hm? If he’s just this so called partner?”

Demons winning.

You cross your arms over your chest, tipping your head back and closing your eyes for a brief moment, “If you want me to pull up my roster, I can show you he is just a study partner. I did that because I knew how you would have acted, just as you are now. You’re already upset for me being late. There is no reason to think anything, I promise.”

Oscar sighs and moves to get out of the car. He stands and towers over you, looking down and staring deeply into your dark orbs. He searches them for a moment for extra confirmation that he has nothing to worry about. And as he see it in your eyes that it simply was just a study session, he begins to ease up.

“Please, let’s just drink and enjoy the night, hm?” You close the space between the two of you as he wipes his face of any physical agitation. As he does you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning the side of your face against his chest. 

He wraps his arms around you, feeling you under him for a moment as he places a chaste kiss on top your head. When you let go, he looks at you with a look at only means one thing. He pushes some stray strands of hair behind your ear as his eyes begin to rake your body. 

Oscar tilts his head towards the house as he grabs your hand, you interlock fingers while he leads you into and through the busy house. You’re close trailing behind him as a few of his compas give him a boosting look. 

Once the two of you make it to his room, he locks the door and pulls off his shirt in one swift movement over his head, tossing it to the side. You take a few steps back before you sit at the foot of the bed. Oscar stalks towards you and positions himself in between your legs. You gaze up at him through your lashes as he pushes his body into you. As long as the two of you have been together, you two can communicate with each other with just looks. 

Your hands move up to his bare stomach, feeling his skin as they fall back down to his waist and you begin to work his belt. You pull it through the loops of his shorts and then work the button and zipper, it’s a moment of complete lust and there is no tender moments to be wasted.

He pushes his shorts and boxers down enough for his semi-hard member to slip out. You push his clothes down to his ankles to which he moves his hands behind his back to hold there. He juts his chin forward to you to give you the go. You’re biting your lip as you move your face closer to his now fully hard cock.

“No hands.” 

He says barely above a whisper as you set your hands down on your thighs. You maneuver your face to be set directly in front of his girthy length, placing your lips on the tip, holding it between your lips as you gaze up at him. 

The rough inhale from him and contraction of his abdomen muscles tell you that just your lips on his throbbing head alone is enough to send him into the void. You know better than to tease him in moments like this, you know when it’s no sweet kisses or lingering touches that there is no room for torturous or slow whatsoever.

Your mouth opens the more you take him, eating up ever inch of the Santo leader. It’s when his tip hits the back of your throat that you breath through your nose and swallow, your throat muscles squeezing him like a vice. 

“Fuck, nena,” 

Then you been your assault, bobbing your head on his member, up and down and never removing your mouth. When you get back to the tip, your swirl your tongue and suck harder as if its a yummy lolli. Giving Oscar head always gets you turned on overdrive. It’s something about the ability to make him come undone, making him come undone is a feeling that sends shocks right to your core. 

Oscar is letting out soft but guttural groans, the sweat beginning to build around his body. The entire time you’ve been taking him, he’s had his arms locked behind his back but that changes when you take his entire length and into your throat, holding you it when working your throat muscles. He grabs the back on your head, pressing you into him more than you were prior.

His moans getting a pitch louder as he begins to buck his hips forward. You begin to lose your breath and getting in oxygen through your nasal cavity proves difficult as your nose is pressed up against his skin. The automatic instinct to pull back kicks in but he has you in a tight hold against him, he’s now completely fucking your throat.

You push on his thighs with your hands to give him the besides the obvious hint that you need air. As you begin to gag, he finally releases the hold on the back of your head and you pull your head up and off his cock. 

“I’m about to fuckin’ bust, bebe. Go again.” 

After take a few more breaths, you take his slick with your saliva cock in your hand to pump him so you are able to get a few breaths in. You guide him back into your mouth, this time pumping him along with the sucking.

You begin to moan as you do so, adding the pleasure you are creating. And the ache between your legs begin to grow, as you shift you can feel just how wet you are getting. The ache becoming too much to leave unattended. Your hand massages your clothed heat, sending you into a frenzy.

Oscar had his head tipped back and eyes closed since you started again, but when he begins to hear and feel your moans he looks down to see your free hand in your pants. The pleasure you’re creating for both him and yourself draws you close to an orgasm. 

You purposely begin to gag on him and it doesn’t take too long before Oscar cums in your mouth. The release of profanities and groans sends a shock to your cunt, you double over as your hand begins to falter, the orgasm ripping through you. 

After swallowing his seed, he tells you to show him that it’s all gone. He bites his lip and pulls you to stand. Oscar grabs your hand that was in your pants and brings it to his mouth, taking your fingers and sucking on them.

He wanted a taste, you got a taste of him so it only seems fitting.

Oscar jumps in the shower for a quick rinse, as you simply just change your underwear. The night a success as the two you ended up relieving the tension in a beneficial way. 

“And mamas? If I find out you bail on me to study with some puto again, I promise Freeridge will be one less body and with a begging puta for my cock to which she won’t get shit for weeks.”

[rbbalmung]

Pokemon SwSh GPL AU: Get to know ______

Guys, it’s time for my favourite pokemon ship. Prepare for loads of fluff. 

Get to Know Gloria x Hop (Postwickshipping/Hpyu): 

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other? I headcannon that Gloria really likes pokemon plushies, so Hop is always unconsciously checking the stuffed animal section of stores to see if there’s any she doesn’t have. Gloria tries really hard to get him books that pertain to his research, but she really has no clue what he studies aside from the fact that it’s legendary pokemon (Legendary Pokemon are his focus). 

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap? Gloria! They are the cuddliest couple ever. There’s about a foot size difference between them, so she fits perfectly in his lap. (Hop is def the little spoon, tho). 

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes? TBH, they would both walk around the house half naked. They’re comfort first babies, so you know Gloria’s bra is coming off and Hop is discarding his work clothes the second their door is closed. I think it’s kind of a casual thing for them, though. They’ve known each other long enough that this kind of thing doesn’t bother them. 

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway? Gloria has to drag Hop’s ass to bed pretty much every night. They’re both busy people, but we all know that Hop would lose track of time while working on his thesis. It is a fact that if Gloria doesn’t come to get him, he will fall asleep on his desk. 

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies? They’re actually both pretty good cooks (Gloria’s mama owns a restaurant in Wedgehurst and Hop’s mom is obsessed with cooking), but I think Hop would probably be the one to burn all the food. The only reason why is because he has a harder time focusing solely on cooking instead of trying to multitask. Now, baking is a whole other story. They’re both terrible at it. 

6: Which one reads OTP prompts and says “Oh that’s us!” and which one goes “Eh, not really”? Gloria would be the one to read the prompts and Hop would be the denier (he secretly thinks it’s really cute whenever she does it). 

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes? Gloria. 100% Gloria. She is constantly cold and has a passion for stealing Hop’s hoodies. He thinks its adorable because they’re always really big on her. 

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?” Hop would be the errand runner and Gloria would make sure he remembered everything. It goes back to Hop’s mind being a million places at once and Gloria hyper focusing on one thing at a time. 

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions? Hop would drive and Gloria would give directions for similar reasons to the question above. 

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws? Hop doodles Gloria sometimes to keep his hands busy. It’s kind of an absent minded thing for him to do while reading an article/book. Once Sonia caught him doing it, and when I say she teases him relentlessly, I mean it. Hop absolutely does not let Gloria see these doodles (they’re very cutesy and he’d die of embarrassment). 

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips? Hop would be the backflipper and Gloria would be the follower. Think back to their GPL season: Hop was blazing ahead at all times without a care in the world. Gloria is the slowest traveler in the world because she likes talking to everyone and visiting all the stores.  

12: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking? Neither of them can hold their alcohol, but Hop at least has more body mass than Gloria. They’re a pair of lightweights and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. (Let’s be real: Bede has to be the one to make sure they get home). 

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own? Gloria. I actually believe that Gloria would keep her last name even after she and Hop get married because it belongs to her mama (after the divorce, they both changed their last names to match her mama’s maiden name). Hop is also a proud Hoffman, so he wouldn’t use the name Park. However, everyone else will mix it up. Gloria gets called “Mrs. Hoffman” all the time if she’s arriving for restaurant reservations or something of the like. Newer reporters/young children call Hop “Mr. Park” because they just assume Park was his last name. 

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside? Neither of them are scared of bug pokemon. 

16: Which one gives the other their jacket? HOP. I mentioned it earlier, but Gloria is always cold. Bede asks why he doesn’t just make Gloria bring her own jacket and Hop replies that he likes it when she wears his jacket (they’re freaking sappy).  

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older sibling? Pft. Leon? Please. By this point, he’s become the big brother of Gloria as well. The League members are a completely different story. They all like Hop, but since Gloria is one of their younger members and the biggest sweetheart, they’re a protective bunch (Especially Melony and Gordie). 

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other? Gloria, but it didn’t go well. It was right before he was leaving to finish up high school studying abroad, and the timing wasn’t right (aka Hop turned her down because he hadn’t yet realised his feelings for her). Gloria tries her best to move on but never truly gets over him. Luckily, his feelings hit him like a bag of bricks to the stomach when they reunite a couple years later.  

19: How good would your OTP be at parenting? The best. They would definitely be the cool parents (I mean, come on. They’re the freaking heroes of Galar!). I think they’d also be super supportive of their child’s choices. 10/10. They’re made to be parents. (Hop would especially want to be a good dad. He’s initially nervous because he never knew his dad and thinks he might mess up, but Gloria reassures him that he’s doing a good job). 

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters? Hop would be Mr. Perfect Grammar. Gloria would use mostly good grammar, but her texts would be littered with emojis. 

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them? Hop is the more confrontational of the two. Gloria tends to believe that people are only mean to others if something bad is happening in their life, but Hop will jump from 0 to 100 if someone even looks at Gloria funny.  

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun? Gloria likes Hop’s bad puns, so everyone else has to cringe in discomfort at the oblivious pair. 

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy? Hop. Gloria likes catching pokemon and sending them on poke jobs, so there’s a new member to their family at least once a week. 

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired? Hop. He’s the only one she would show vulnerability to, and he makes sure not to make her feel ashamed of it. (also, Gloria absolutely could not carry Hop. He’s like, a foot taller than her).  

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering? Both! They’re very supportive of each other to help ease the other’s insecurities. Hop gets really invested in her pokemon matches and Gloria throws him a little celebration every time he finishes a project.  

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder? Gloria. Since Hop never goes to sleep at night, it is very common for him to take 5 minute power naps without even realising it. Gloria definitely takes pictures when it happens as a reflex (They were long distance for the first 4 years of their relationship) because she wants to be able to look back at their memories together.  Like Gloria doesn’t know about Hop’s doodles of her, Hop doesn’t know about her phone album of him. 

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked? Gloria? I think they both grow into their separate styles as the get older, but Gloria would push Hop to wear more colourful things. Sonia once told Hop that a man should never tell a woman what to wear because it’s rude. I don’t think Gloria would mind if he suggested something, but he is way too nervous to do it (Sonia scarred him).   

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of? Hop is very nervous around Urshifu and Calyrex. Urshifu because he’s terrifying, large, and very protective of Gloria. Calyrex because the pokemon will take over his body without warning to tell Gloria something.  

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains? Hop! If Gloria held it, Hop’s head would be in the umbrella. 

30: If your OTP went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures? Oh my gosh, they’d go everywhere. I think that after Gloria steps down as champion, they travel to all the different regions for at least a couple of years. Gloria would be the one to take pictures and make a little scrapbook when they return home.  

[bunnies-on-saturn]

You’re a good big brother

so i had a thought where like, AU (i guess?) where the brothers went to one of those K-12 schools. You know where they have all the grades in school, yeah I feel like they went to one of those. either to be closer together, for it to be convenient, so Lucifer can watch his brothers whatever it may be. By the way I’ve never been in one of those school so no idea how it works.

~Story Summary~:

Lucifer, while in class, gets called into the schools office to talk about Mammon behavior. Apparently he’s been getting in more fights. Lucifer is upset but maybe there’s more to the story than what the teachers know. He’s only doing it to protect his little brothers.

~Characters~:

Lucifer: possibly around the age of 15-17 (the oldest obviously)

Mammon: around 8-10 years old

Leviathan: around 5-6 years old

Asmodeus: 3-4 years old (the youngest. At least for now)

Lucifer sat in the middle of class listening to the teacher’s lecture. Well half listening, he was a good student who followed the rules and got good grades but he sat by the window so it was easy to get distracted. Currently the class was taking notes but he had already written down the information, so he was doodling in the corner of his paper. He was drawing his little brothers. They all went to the same school, but just different classes.

It was a K-12 school and each “level” as they called it was divided into different sections of the school. Each grade level had their own building in a way. Elementary kids got one side, middle schoolers another and high schoolers took the last building. They all shared one big field they shared for certain school events, but things like playground equipment, cafeterias, and etc where all in their own building. They did share a bus stop for all the kids however.

Every day Lucifer would take his brothers to the elementary building, being younger and all and; then go to the high school school building. Then after school he’d pick them up and they’d walk home together. They never took the bus, they liked the walk. Their house wasn’t far anyways. The room was quiet as the only few sounds where pencils writing as the teacher wrote more on the whiteboard. That was until foot steps could be heard walking out in the hallway.

There was a knock on the door causing everyone to look up. “Come in.” Lucifer’s teacher called. The door opened and it was the assistant principal of the elementary department. While yes it was a big school it had only one principal but each section had their own association principal. “Hi sorry to interrupt but we need Lucifer Lamentation to come to office please.” The lady said as she smiled at the teacher. Everyone looked over at Lucifer making an “oooo” sound causing Lucifer to get embarrassed and turn a bit red in the cheeks.

(I know that’s not their last name. I don’t even think they have a last name. I just took the name of the house and applied that as their last name.)

Lucifer turned away as he snarled a bit. The assistant principal walked over to him, “Please bring your stuff with you just in case.” She said. Now Lucifer was a bit worried. He didn’t seem in trouble. He hadn’t done anything so that possibly was ruled out. Did something happen concerning him? Did something happen to his little brothers? Lucifer packed up his things before meeting up with the assistant at the door.

“Lucifer you have the homework for tonight right?” His teacher called right as they where about to leave. “Yes sir.” Lucifer replied. His teacher smiled, “Good. Off you go then.” And with that they closed the door and left. The two walking down the empty hall, the sound of her high heels tapping the floor echoing through the hall. Lucifer fixed his backpack on his shoulder before speaking. “Did something happen?”

“Well.” She said. “Mammon has been getting into some arguments recently with some kids. Today however, Mammon got into a fist fight with one of the kids. So now he’s in the office and I wanted you to try and talk to him. He hasn’t respond to me and is getting quiet snappy. So I thought since you’re his older brother he’d listen to you more.” She explained. Lucifer stayed quiet. Mammon never told him about this. /Is mammon causing trouble again?/ Lucifer thought.

They walked all the way to the elementary building. The shift between the regular school building walls to the more childish area was a real change. Everything seemed so small. Taking a semi familiar rout he’s usually take to walk to and from buildings. Once there we walked to the office building to see Mammon sitting in a chair. His knees where to his chest and his head was sitting on top of them. He had a bandage on his knees, cheek, elbow, and nose. He had a small pout on his face. When he heard the door open he looked over to see his assistant principal and his brother. Seeing them made him turn away again.

The assistant principal walked in having Lucifer follow. The door shutting behind them. “As you can see I’ve had him wait in here while I came to get you. Please have a seat.” She said as she took a seat at her desk gesturing to the empty seat next to Mammon. Lucifer sat down glancing at Mammon. He was upset but also a bit worried. Why was Mammon getting into fights with other classmates? “So I’m sure you’re wondering what exactly happened.” She said looking at the two of them.

Lucifer turned away from Mammon and turned his attention to the lady nodding. “Well you see. While at recess Mammon and two other boys where fighting. Mammon threw the first punch and it escalated causing the teachers to have to step in and break them up." Mammon sank into his knees a bit. Still pouting. "Where are the other two?" Lucifer asked. "Currently in the nurse office. Mammon tried to fight them even in the office." She said. Lucifer kept quiet. His face had a look of confusion.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. If anything he was more disappointed than angry. "Would you like to tell your brother what happened?" She now looked at Mammon who refused to look at her. He shook his head. She sighed. "Not even to your brother?" Lucifer looked at his younger brother and spoke softly, "Mammon do you just not want to talk? Or do you not want to talk because she's here?" He was quiet for a moment. “Cause she’s here…” he mumbled. Lucifer looked at the lady, “Can we have a moment alone please?”

She looked hesitant to say yes. Her face looked like she wanted to say no right away but was really debating. “Please he’s never gonna talk if he’s not comfortable. Can we go outside and talk? I promise to stay within the area.” Lucifer asked putting his hand on Mammon’s knee. She signed, “Yes go ahead. But please stay in the area.” “We will.” Lucifer said. “Come on Mammon.” Lucifer spoke as he got up from his chair. Mammon got up slowly and looked down as he followed Lucifer out of the room.

Lucifer let the door close behind them as they walked out into their play yard. It was empty since it was class time all the kids where inside learning. Lucifer walked to a shaded area having Mammon still looking down. Lucifer finally got a look at his face. His hair was scruffy and his face was a bit dirty. It looked like he had been crying a bit too. “So.” Lucifer said finally breaking the silence. “You got into a fight-“ “It wasn’t my fault!” Mammon yelled a bit. Lucifer was caught off guard with Mammon’s sudden loudness. He turned to him with a shocked look on his face.

Mammon was shaking a bit, his fist in a ball. “I-I was protecting Levi a-and Asmo. They where being mean to them!” Mammon shouted as he wiped his eyes. Lucifer gave a sympathetic look as he put his hand on his shoulder. “Mammon tell me what happened please.” Mammon turned to Lucifer’s direction before speaking again. “Well, it was recess time. And then Levi came up to me crying.” “Crying? Why was he crying?” Lucifer asked worryingly. “It’s cause some kids broke his Ruri-Chan figure. They smashed it.” Lucifer sighed. “I told him not to bring it with him.” He said under his breath. “And they kept pulling on Asmo’s hair and clothes. They even cut his hair a bit too! So I had to help!” Mammon said as tears came down his face.

~ earlier that day~

It was recess time and Mammon was playing with the random playground equipment that was lying around. Currently all the 3rd graders and kids under where playing. Mammon being a 3rd grader was having a good time playing with a ball he found. Occasionally checking on his brothers who where way more down the playground. Levi was in kindergarten and Asmo was in pre-kindergarten. But they played in the same area. He wanted to make sure his little brothers where having fun, and sometimes if they where alone he’d go over and play with them.

Mammon was bouncing the ball trying to see how high he could make it to. Sometimes looking over at the high school building where Lucifer was. Sometimes he wonders if he could see him while walking to class something. While on his fifth try of trying to make the ball go pass the roof he heard crying and felt a tug on his shirt sleeve. It distracted him from catching the ball making it slam hard into the floor, causing the crying to become louder. Just as Mammon was about to get mad he looked to see it was Levi crying.

“Levi what happened?!” He asked worryingly. “They-they-“ Levi couldn’t get a word out with how many tears kept coming down his face. “They broke Ruri-Chan!” Levi cried as he held up a smashed Ruri-Chan figure. Her face was broken, her arm had been snapped, and she was disconnected from her body. “And-and they pu-ushed m-m-e.” Mammon instantly became protective. “Who did this?” Levi pointed to some bigger kids who seemed to be Mammon’s age. “Come on Levi. Your big brothers got this.”

He took his younger brothers hand who was still crying, holding the broken Ruri-Chan close. When he got to the smaller kids section he saw that the kids Levi pointed out where cornering Asmo. There was three of them. Two blocking off his exists and tugging at his clothes, pushing him around while the other had scissors and pulled on his hair. Asmo was screaming and crying trying to push him away but being three he’s not very strong against third graders. “Come on its just a little it’s no big deal. Stop being a baby.” The boy with the scissors said as he snipped a bit of his hair.

Not a lot just a little. That was it for Mammon. He ran over and pushed the boy away causing the other two to let go or Asmo. “MamMam!” Asmo called as he cried. Levi went with Asmo as Mammon stood in front of them. “It’s okay guys. Your big brother is gonna save you two!” He shouts. “Some big brother you are.” One kid said. “THESE are your brothers?! They look pretty useless to me.” Another said. “Hey shut up!” Mammon yelled getting in their face a bit. “You shut up.” He pushed Mammon back causing him to stumble a bit but he managed to catch himself so he doesn’t fall on his brothers.

“Leave them alone! They haven’t even done anything to you.” Mammon pushed him back. The other two watching while Levi was holding Asmo. “They’re annoying.” “You’re annoying!” Mammon said back. “And ugly! And stupid!” “Says you! You’re the dumbest in the class. You should be here with them!” The kid punched Mammon right in the stomach. “Mammam! Mammon!” His brothers called. Mammon held onto his stomach for a bit, “Awe you gonna cry like your stupid brothers here?” “Don’t call them stupid!” Mammon screamed as he got on top of him and started to punch him.

The other two ran while Mammon and the other fought on the floor. Levi and Asmo staying back. That was until a teacher came over and yelled at the two as she broke up the fight. Managing to get Mammon off the young boy. “You two behave right now! Stop it!” She yelled. They eventually stopped and both had scratch marks and bruises all over. She called a teachers assistant who came over to take care of Asmo and Levi while the teacher took the two to the nurse.

“How did this happen?” The teacher asked sternly as she crossed her arms. She looked down at the two boys who sat in a chair in the office. The nurse was getting bandaids ready. “He started it!” Mammon said pointing at the kid. “No he did!” He pointed back. “Did not!” “Did too!” “Did not!” Mammon pushed the boy after he said that causing the teacher to pull him back and the nurse to move the kid aside. “MAMMON YOU’RE GOING TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE AFTER. Ms.Joy please patch up Mammon first so he can go to the office sooner. I don’t trust him here with him.” She told the nurse.

She nodded and fixed up Mammon while the teacher called the assistant principal using the office phone. Once he was done she came over and picked him up and took him to her office. Once there they started talking. “Mammon you know what my you’re here don’t you?” She sat at her desk with her hands together resting on the table. Mammon sat in the chair with his arms crossed and looked away. He was still upset and even more so that he was getting in trouble and the other kids weren’t. They hurt his brothers they deserved it.

“Mammon I don’t think I need to tell you what you did was extremely inappropriate. So please explain to me why you did what you did.” She stated. Mammon kept quiet bringing his feet up to his chest. “It wasn’t my fault.” He mumbled. “Well the teachers said you threw the first punch so you clearly had something to do with it.” She replied back looking at him a bit sternly. Mammon kept his head down. She tried asking again and again before sighing as she rubbed her temple. “Fine if you won’t answer I’ll go get your brother. Maybe you’ll listen to him instead.” She got up from her chair, “Do not leave this office.” Was what she told him before she left.

~Present Time~

Mammon finished telling the events of what happened today. He was crying now as he wiped at his eyes. Lucifer just held him close and rubbed his back in a circle like motion. “I tried but she didn’t believe me.” He mumbled into his chest. “I believe you Mammon. Thank you for protecting your little brothers. You did good.” Mammon looked up. “I did?” Lucifer smiled as he looked down at his younger brother. “Of course. I’m very proud of you.” Mammon turned red a bit as he looked away.

“Come now let’s go tell her what happened.” Lucifer said as he pulled away. Mammon looked hesitant before Lucifer put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay I’ll be here to help tell what happened.” Mammon nodded as they headed back to the office. The assistant principal waiting at her desk. “So are you finally ready to talk?” They took at seat and her desk nodding and repeated what Mammon told Lucifer to her. “I see. And you’re sure this is the truth.” She asked. “Yes!” Mammon cried. “Ask Levi and Asmo! They saw it all!”

“Levi wouldn’t lie. I’m not sure how much you’d get out of Asmo being so young but you should definitely ask them.” Lucifer interjected. She sighed again. “Right I will. Well thank you dear for your help. I’ll talk to them and others right away. Even if it was in self defense I still have to give some punishment. So Mammon you can’t play at recess for three days. If what you’re saying is true the three boys will get three weeks of no recess.” Mammon obviously wasn’t happy about it. He didn’t see the reason why he should be getting in trouble but three days was better than three weeks.

Mammon nodded. “Fine..” he uttered. “Good. Sorry to pull you out of class Lucifer you may go back. Same goes for you Mammon.” The two got up and left the office. “Alright then I’ll be heading back to class. I’ll see you after school today okay?” Lucifer said as he ruffled his hair. “Stay out of trouble.” Mammon whined pushing his hand away. “Luucciiii! I’m not a baby anymore.” Lucifer chuckled. “That may be so but you are my baby brother.” “Hey!” Lucifer laughed. “Okay okay. Go back to class now.” Mammon nodded. “Bye Luci!” He said as he ran back to class with a smile on his face.

Lucifer watched him until he was out of sight and turned away to walk back to his own class. And so the day went on like normal. Lucifer finished up his last class and as the bell rang he packed up his backpack and headed over to the elementary building. Lucifer walking through the crowded halls trying to avoid as many people as possible. All he could think about was his brothers. Is everything okay? Did she talk to them? Are Levi and Asmo hurt? Is Mammon doing okay? So many questions going through his mind.

He was so lost in thought he didn’t even realize Mammon was calling to him. “LUCII!!” Mammon called waving at him. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo where all in the same spot they’d be at everyday to be picked up by Lucifer. Lucifer looked up coming back into reality to see Mammon smiling at him. Asmo was hugging his leg while Mammon had his hand on his back. Levi was also doing the same expect he was slouching into Mammon. He was more focused on the plastic bag in his hands but Mammon still had his hand on his back.

Lucifer smiled softly. It was a cute sight even though he knew his brothers where upset it was nice to see them all together. Lucifer walked over looking at his younger brothers kneeling in front of them. Before he could even get a word out Levi and Asmo ran up to him and hugged him which caught both Lucifer and Mammon off guard. “LUCII!!” They cried. Well Asmo’s sounded more like “Wuci!” Then Luci. Lucifer smiled and hugged his little brothers close hearing them cry. “Hey buds. Are you okay? I heard what happened are you hurt?” He spoke softly as he tried to calm them.

“I-It was scawy!” Levi cried having Asmo nod. “I know it was and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But Mammon was there right? He kept you safe.” Lucifer looked up at Mammon with a soft smile. Mammon blushed. “W-Well yeah! I’m supposed to! I’m their big brother!” Lucifer laughed a little as he kept holding them. They cried into his chest as he gave a sympathetic look. “Shh shhh it’s okay bud. Shh you’re okay now.” He kissed their heads as he spoke. “You guys are safe now right? It’s not gonna happen ever again I promise.”

Lucifer pulled them back a bit as he whipped their tears with his thumb. Lucifer ran his fingers through Asmo’s hair. “Well your hair doesn’t look too bad. It’s not very noticeable. Don’t worry Asmo you still look great.” Asmo looked up hopefully. “Weally?” “Really.” He ruffled his hair a little. He knew his brother really liked his looks. He was always a fan of dressing up and doing his hair. While he wasn’t the best with his hair being very young that was Lucifer’s job. But he really enjoyed dressing up.

“When we get home I promise we’ll put your hair into something really pretty sound good?” Lucifer spoke making Asmo nod and smile a bit. “Ya! wif a bow!” He tried to speak. Being so young he’s still developing speaking skill. Lucifer chuckled a little. “Yes with a bow.” Asmo wiped his face a bit before going back to Mammon putting his arms up. Asking to be picked up. Mammon bent down and picked him up placing on his hip best he could. Lucifer looked at Levi who still looked upset.

Pitifully looking at the plastic bag in his hands. Gently moving the broken pieces or the Ruri-Chan figure that where there. Lucifer put his hand on his cheek. “Levi are you okay? They broke Ruri didn’t they?” Levi nodded as silent tears fell. “I told you not to bring her to school she’s fragile.” Levi whined a bit covering his face. He was never good in these types of situations. “I know I’m sorry. I know that was your favorite one. How about this when we get home I’ll try my best to fix it okay? And if we can’t I’ll get you a new one.” Lucifer said gently.

“I promise as your big brother I’ll do whatever to make you happy. I’ll even let you watch her videos tonight even after bed time.” Levi perked up. “Really?” “Really bud.” Levi wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “Kay..” Lucifer picked him up and set him on his hip. Levi put his head on his shoulder as he yawned. Mammon watched the whole time now Lucifer calmed his brothers down so easily. How he was so gentle with them. He wished he could do the same. Mammon held Asmo who was looking around the area.

“Come on let’s get going home.” He moved some of Leviathan hair out of his face as he adjusted him on his hip. Mammon looked at his older brother in awe. Lucifer caught a glimpse and asked, “What are you thinking about Mammon?” Mammon blushed a little. “Nothing…” he replied. “Come on tell me.” “Well it’s just..you’re so good them. A-and I wanna be good with them too! You made them so much calmer than I ever could.” Mammon pouted as he held Asmo close.

Lucifer smiled and put his hand on the back of Mammon’s head pulling him close and kissed it. “You’re a good big brother Mammon. You already where and you still are. You stood up for your little brothers and protected them. That’s all I could ever ask for. I don’t really like the idea of you getting into fights but if it’s for self defense and especially family it’s okay. I’m proud of you.” Lucifer praised him. Mammon’s blush grew as he kept his head down. “Y-y-you’re embarrassing!” Mammon managed to say.

“Yes but it’s the truth. And I’m sure your brothers feel the same way. Right you two?” Levi turned over to look at Mammon who was looking away. “Thank you Mammon for helping me.” He said causing Mammon to look up. “ ‘ank ou mammam!” Asmo cheered as he hugged his older brother. Mammon laughed a bit as he hugged Asmo back and ruffled Levi’s hair. “That’s what I’m here for.” And with that they walked home. A little late because of their conversation but it didn’t matter. Mammon was doing his homework while in the living room with his brothers.

Asmo was currently getting his hair done by Lucifer. Who was sitting on his lap while Lucifer was sitting on the couch. Upon further inspection he saw that Asmo was a bit scratched up on his arms. Probably from when those kids where holding him. They weren’t bad in fact most of them where markings more than scratches. But still he made a mental note to keep an eye on it. As promised Lucifer did put a bow in his hair. Two in fact both personally picked by Asmodeus himself. He was very happy with how it came out.

“ ‘ank ou Wuci!” Asmo smiled as Lucifer put him down. “Anytime Asmo.” By now Mammon was done with his homework so he was playing with Asmo. All while videos of Ruri-Chan played in the background. As promised Levi got to watch her and his eyes where practically glued to the screen. While they did that he took the plastic bag next to Levi’s backpack and held it in his hands. “I’ll be back Mammon I’m going upstairs real quick.” Lucifer called. “Kay!” Mammon replied.

Lucifer took it to his bedroom and tried his best to repair it. He knew this was Levi’s favorite thing in the whole world. It was a comfort item to him. The minute he had it he took it everywhere and if they had to leave somewhere he wouldn’t leave until he had her in his hand. Which lead to many tantrums but as long as she was there he was fine. Even helping him sleep in the worst of times. He took great pride in taking care of the figure. So Lucifer intended to do the same thing.

Eventually with the help of some magic he was able to bring it back good as new. Just like when he first got it. Lucifer held it gently and went to Levi’s room to look for the Ruri-Chan plushie he also cherished. He sleeps with it every night and even during long car rides. He takes it everywhere just like the figure. And If it’s not with him at all time he’ll cry his eyes out. But he still loves his little brother so whatever makes him happy he’s happy to provide it. Lucifer took it and went back downstairs seeing Asmo and Mammon playing together. Asmo trying to do Mammon’s hair with the many clips he had all very childish themes.

Lucifer smiled as they seemed to be laughing together. Mammon was also putting clips in Asmo’s hair so it was equal. Lucifer went over to Levi and tapped his shoulder getting his attention. “Levi I have a surprise for you.” Levi’s face lit up as he knew exactly what the surprise was. “Here. Good as new.” Lucifer handed him the more repaired figure making Levi smile ear to ear. I’m excitement and joy he flared his arms and kicked his feet a little smiling. It was the purest smile ever. Almost the same smile as when he got this toy on his birthday. Leviathan got up and hugged Lucifer tightly.

“Thank you big bro!!” He cheered. “You’re the best!” Lucifer hugged him back. “I’m glad to see you happy again but new rule. You can’t bring her to school anymore.” Levi pulled back with a distraught look on his face. “But..why?” “Levi she got broken today. I warned you about it already haven’t I? We don’t want her broken again do we?” Levi thought about it for a bit. And although he was right he still needed her. “But..but- I still need her! I wanna take her with me!” Levi whined. “I thought this was coming so here.” Lucifer pulled out the plushie seeing Levi stop his almost tantrum immediately.

“You can take her instead. Only if you promise not to get it dirty or ripped.” Levi held out his arms to hold it but Lucifer held it up from him making him whine more. “Promise first.” “I promise!” “Are you sure?” “Yes!” “You’re not just saying it are you?” “No!” Lucifer handed him the plushie and he gripped it with all his might. Snuggling with it. Lucifer laughed as he ruffled his hair. The night came and Lucifer made dinner for everyone and they ate like a happy family. The next day at school after Lucifer dropped them off he asked Mammon to point out which kids bullied them the other day.

When he did he walked over with a very creepy smile as he stood over them. “So I hear you’re the ones who bullied my brothers the other day. Is that true.” The fear on their face says it all. They started to back into the walls as he leaned into closer. “If I ever find out that you started trouble again with my brothers I will deal with you myself personally. You’d make a great hanging decoration on my fathers wall.” And with that he walked away with a satisfactory look on his face as hearing them shutter was like music to his ears. Did he just threaten some eight years olds? Yeah. Did he care? Not really. As long as they got the message he could care less and he carried on with the day as if nothing happened.

The end :)

I’m not too proud of this story but I’ll try and make better ones in the future