#though there are still plenty of peas out there in the box right now

[overclockedopossum]

I've been growing peas this year in my modest planter and today reaped the bounty of "a handful of peas in my packet noodles".

They're overripe and starchy but it's still nice to have something from out of my own garden, and with noodles the flavour was fine. Not sure how much of my enjoyment is just because I grew them myself, but I liked it.

[slytherinnbitch]

Day 7: Proposal

Since this marks one week, this is going to be extra long!

"Goodbye love," Draco says as he leaves Grimmauld Place a little late.

Harry was dressing when he left him in the room, he casts a tempus charm just outside the door. It's almost noon, Salazar knew why Harry didn't even bat an eyelid at his late morning.

He apparates to the Maya Magal in London, it's apparantly the best place to get engagement rings and both Pansy and Hermione vouch for it.

A handsomely dressed woman, probably Draco's age, greets him at the door and takes him inside.

"What would you be looking for today, sir?" she asks politely.

"Engagement rings, thank you."

"Do you have any choice or maybe a reference picture?"

"No, just something light and simple would do. He doesn't like heavy jewels or jewels for that matter." Draco says, belatedly realising that he used the masculine pronoun instead of the neutral one, Hermione had told him that Muggles didn't always see eye to eye with same gender relationships like Wizards and Witched did.

But the lady doesn't even hesitate before giving him a smile and leading him towards the middle of the store. She starts showing him a myriad of rings- all of them elegant and classy with intricate designs but nothing that would suit Harry.

After almost four hours of looking at almost each and every ring in the shop, he picks a simple band which a mixture of platinum and gold with tiny diamonds adorning it's edges. He immediately knows that this is it.

The lady smiles at him again, not a single sign in her face saying that she is frustrated or annoyed that Draco took such a long time.

"Would you like to engrave something on the inside?"

"Yes sure." Draco replies, he instantly knows what he wants. In the end, the lady- Lara tells him to come back in two hours for the ring to be ready and he thanks her and gets going.

A tempus charm shows him that he has about three hours to get home before Harry starts to suspect anything and that's plenty of time. He apparates to the cementry in Godric's hollow.

"Hello," he greets James and Lily as he sits down beside their grave on the ground, "So I wanted to ask you for Harry's hand. I know it's an ancient practice and well, you are dead but I want to do this right. I was raised this way and I'm rambling."

He takes a moment conjure some flowers before he starts talking again, "So I want to marry your son. Why should he marry me? I don't know that. Merlin, I don't even know why he loves me. Me, who is an angry arsehole to everyone and who never smiles. Weasley's definition not mine, just so you know. I can tell you why I love him though? Maybe that will be enough to convince you both. Harry, he has always been my guiding star. I don't know how but even in school when we were at each other's throats, he had been someone constant, someone always there. No matter in what way, just there. And afterwards, the war where well you know things happened and I was so bloody naive but he was there as well. He had been my only hope back then, that Harry might be able to save all of his from the doom which was Vol-voldemort. And he did, he even initiated the house unity in Eighth year and then we got seperated because of our careers and look at us now. Both working at the Ministry and even our departments are connected, somewhat. I'm an Unspeakable, you see. You would know that Harry is Head Auror but not about me. I don't know when that star, that hope became my everything. Slowly, but consistently. We grew closer and I can't imagine a day without him anymore. At the end of the day, I need to be around him else I can't fall asleep.

It's been almost twelve years since the war but some scars remain. I'm really hoping that you would look past those and forgive me and accept me as your son's husband-if he says yes that is. Maybe this is all in vain, Harry might just say no and that will be that. But I'm trying not to focus on the negatives right now. Thank you for your sacrifices and thank you so much for giving this world such a kind hearted, selfless person. Thank you for my Harry." He finishes at last, his eyes are slightly tinging but that's alright. No one's here to see him like this anyways.

He talks to them somemore, about everything about him and Harry and how much he loves him and how he would never let Harry feel like he did throughout his childhood and how he plans on proposing Harry on the anniversary of their tenth year together.

Its about 6pm when he leaves the graveyard and goes to pick up the ring.

.........

As soon as Harry hears Draco call out his goodbye, he takes out his notepad from under the socks in the drawer and checks everything he needs to do in order for everything to be perfect tomorrow.

Pick up ring

Ask the parents

Check in with Hermione and Pansy

Order the flowers

He makes goes to the Wizarding Jewelry Place first and asks for the ring.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. The ring is ready and just how you asked it to be. I'll bring it right out," the old man says, who Harry got to know was the owner of the shop from Pansy.

He comes out after several moments and in his hands is a small jewelry box, with intricate golden work over the black satin. The man opens the box and shows Harry the ring, it's perfect with its platinum and gold band and a heavy diamond in the middle of it, he checks the inside and yes, the inscription is just how he had wanted it to be.

He thanks the man and hurries to Wiltshire after making his payment.

He apparates just outside of the Manor gates, after all these years it's fairly easy to enter. The Manor has transformed drastically, and Narcissa and surprisingly, Lucius's warm welcome behaviour had helped immensely.

He had been shocked when he met Lucius as Draco's boyfriend for the first time since the war, it had been after two years of dating Draco and he had been invited over. Gone was the bigoted, slimy bastard he knew, this Lucius was still as much of an arsehole but not the same one. They were not friendly exactly, but he liked to think that he and Lucius got along nowadays. Well it's almost been eight years so he guessed with time anything was possible.

The gates opens to him without any sort of hindrance. Just as he was going to knock on the door, Mipsy opens it and pokes her head out.

"Mipsy is here to greet Harry Potter. Who does Harry Potter like to meet? Master Draco isn't here today."

"Yes, Mipsy I'm aware that Draco isn't here. I'm here to meet Lucius and Narcissa actually." He explains, Mipsy nods her head and vanishes with a small pop, only to return twenty seconds later, and asking Harry to follow her to the parlor.

"Harry, dear. What do we owe this pleasure to?" Narcissa asks as he enters the room.

"Sure you haven't lost your way here? Draco doesn't live here any longer." Lucius says at the same time.

"Yes, Lucius I haven't lost my way and I know Draco doesn't live here any longer, since you know, he lives with me now," he retorts back- Merlin it's weird enough calling Lucius by his name in his head, it's weirder when he says it out loud. "I actually wanted to ask for something."

"See Cissa, I told you he had ulterior motives after all," Lucius says as he looks over Harry suspiciously.

"Oh Lucius, why don't we hear out the young man before you start with all your nonsense." Narcissa says and she waves her hand towards Harry in a way to tell him to continue.

"I want to ask for Draco's hand in marriage." Harry blurts out, the silence that follows is deafening. He looks from Malfoy to the other, both of them seem to be in an intense conversation which is being spoken through their eyes.

It's Lucius who breaks the silence at last, "Why do you want to marry our son? Why should we allow you?"

"Because I love him, I know it can't be as simple as that but that's the gist of it. I love your son with my whole being. I can't imagine a day where I can't see his face or without his insults which have somehow become a constant as well. I tried to find the many reasons for which I should deserve to marry him, I can't find one. But I want to, I want to be deserved enough to marry Draco Malfoy. I want to make him happy for the rest of his life and I want to do this right for once, that's why here I'm asking permission for his hand because even though it doesn't matter nowadays. Draco loves tradition and for him, this is of great significance and I want everything to be right this time." Harry finishes and when he looks over at them, because he had said most of that looking at the carpet, Narcissa's eyes a bit glassy and Lucius who never shows emotion, is actually beaming at him.

"Very well then, Harry. You have both our permission to marry our son and we both would be honoured to welcome you into the Malfoy family. I...I might have been wrong about you afterall." Lucius says and coming from him it's high praise. He is glad both of them and he tells them so and both of them smile fondly at him. They make him stay for tea and afterwards wishes him luck as he floos to Diagon Alley to meet Hermione and Pansy at the new cafe.

"So you got the parents blessings then?" Pansy asks as she takes a sip of her firewhiskey mixed coffee.

"Yup"

"And you have the ring?" Hermione questions as she sets down her wine glass. Seriously is this a cafe or a pub?

"Right here!" He shows them the ring and they coo over it for a minute. "Is this place even a cafe or is that just for the name?"

"It's a cafe and bar, of sorts. They provide a mixture of normal drinks but add alcohol to it. You should try the vodka and peach drink. It's absolutely perfect." Pansy answers as she calls over a waiter.

"No thank you, Pans. I have to go back to my boyfriend who shouldn't even suspect that I have been anywhere but work today. Do you have anything non-alcoholic?" He directs the last question to the waiter who has come.

"Yes, right about everything can be non-alcoholic or purely alcoholic as well. The mixtures are just out speciality."

"Oh then....you know what give me a vodka and peach drink. I deserve it after spending an entire afternoon with two Malfoys." Harry says. The waiter suppresses his amusement and goes to get his order.

Pansy and Hermione snicker at him, "Oh shut it. As if you both wouldn't do the exact same."

They are still chuckling as he discusses the details of the date he had set up for tomorrow. Nowhere public because neither of them liked that, so instead he had picked up a picnic spot for tomorrow night. It would be great fun to propose in the middle of night with only the moons and stars providing them light.

Pansy and Hermione were incharge of setting everything up and they would also be telling Draco that it was a joint anniversary gift to them and they had informed Harry as well. It was the perfect ploy and no one would suspect a thing.

"Alright, the two of you. Enjoy your night, go home safely. I need to get going if I want to make it home before him." Harry says as he gets up and kisses both their cheeks one by one.

"Ron and Blaise will be here shortly so you need not worry about it, darling. We'll be alright on our own till then." Hermione says back and Pansy adds,"Draco never comes home early so you needn't worry about it."

Seriously these two are in so much sync that it terrifies him at times.

He steps out of the cafe and on a impromptu decision apparates to Godric's hollow instead.

...

Draco apparates directly inside the Manor Gates after picking up the ring.

Tabota greets him and tells him that his parents are in the third floor parlor. He makes his way quickly-he doesn't have much time left, he needs to be quick now.

"Hello, love. What a pleasant surprise!" Mother says as he enters.

"Hello Mother," he says and then nods towards his father, "Father,"

"Actually I'm in a bit of a hurry right now. I wanted the Malfoy signet ring." Draco says, getting to the point quickly.

"But I can see you wearing yours, son." Father says.

"Yes I know. I'm- I'm proposing Harry tomorrow." He announces and he is confused by their identical expressions of surprise and then repressed mirth. He didn't except that.

"Is that so?" Father says as he tilts his head, "Very well then, I'll go get it." He leaves the room and Draco is left with his Mother.

"I'm so happy for you, my darling." She says as she comes closer and hugs him.

"Well, I hope he says yes, else..." Draco replies as he hugs her back.

"Oh I'm sure he won't." Father replies as he enters the room. That was surprisingly quick.

"Here you go, son. I'm sure Harry would be quite delighted." He hands Draco the ring and engulfs him in a rare hug as well. Draco can't believe it, his parents approve. Not that he didn't know that, but it's different to know that so explicitly.

"Thank you. I need to get going now. Goodbye." Draco says, his parents murmur their byes and he apparates directly to Grimmauld Place.

Harry's yet to be home, so he decides to hide his ring and take a long bath.

Tomorrow is going to be perfect!

@cupofsquirrelfan hope you like this!

Day 6: Braid || Day 8: Tattoo

Part 2 and Part 3 of Proposal

Requests open || Let me know if you want a part 2 of this

[atombombbibunny]

The Shop

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Word Count: 5215

Warnings: Some cussin’

Summary: Y/N’s uncle had offered her, her first job knowing she was saving up in advance for college. It just so happened that The Thomas Jefferson is working there and will be training her.

A/N: Omfg, this is my first time writing in third person, its probably shit. It took so much strength not to write in first person. Anyways, this is a story I wrote forever ago with a different fandom (Harry Styles.) I thought this would work, does this work? I hope this worked.....I had no idea how to end this..........................

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

It was the first day of Y/N’s first job and she could only hear the pounding of her heart in her ears as she entered the small grocery store. Living in a small town proved to have some perks like everyone knowing everyone, and the fact that her uncle owned the store itself. He knew she was attempting to save some money for school as she would be graduating in two years.

She had no reason to be freaking out, her uncle like her and she liked him.

Everything would be fine.

Oh god, what if she started a fire? The whole town would know it was her.

As a hand fell down on her shoulder she practically leapt out of her own skin.

“There’s my favorite niece!” She spun a full 180 degrees to be eye to eye with her uncle, she shook her head before shooting him a look. “I’m your only niece uncle Jack.” He flashed her a goofy smile before patting her shoulder. “Come, I’ll show you around.” Before the two of them could move an inch, the door rang out as someone entered, her uncles face went straight as he stared down the entering being. “Little late there Thomas.” Y/N glanced behind her at the person getting scolded by her usually easy-going uncle.

To her surprise it was Thomas Jefferson, the so-called god of her high school. The man looked exhausted. “Sorry, mom needed me.” He muttered, his eyes on his shoes. Jack raised an eyebrow. “She okay?” He questioned as his face was now filled with genuine concern. “She’s fine, I guess.” He finally raised his head, his eyes flashed at Y/N before looking directly at her uncle.  After a nod from Jack he rushed past the two of them barely grazing her shoulder but still enough to earn a mumbled. “Sorry.” From him.

“That was Thomas.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she tilted her head to the side, she glanced to the door Thomas was now closing and locking behind him. “Really, I would have never guessed.” She felt like he forgot she was hear and didn’t just hear their whole conversation. “His moms been sick.” She quickly lifted her head and dropped her shoulders; her heart sank in her chest. Now she felt like shit. “He uh, goes to my school. Hes a senior.” Jack smiled lightly while leaning against the cashier counter. “So good you know each other, he’ll be training you.” His smile spread to a full grin.

Y/N didn’t actually know Thomas, she knew of him. But the two had never held an actual conversation. He was basically (as cliché as it sound) the school heart breaker, and an apparently amazing kisser. (Said information passed onto her from her friend Katie who had one to many wine coolers and got a taste.)

Thomas soon exited the room now in a bright blue polo with the stores name stitched into it, he made his way back towards Y/N’s uncle who looked rather short next to him. Y/N’s eyes couldn’t help but wander over the boy’s body, his arms looked practically stuffed into the shirt’s tight sleeves, his curls bounced with every small movement. It was only when Thomas’ arm moved forward did she realize her uncle was introducing the two of them.

A tight grip: was met with Y/N’s small hand as they shook hands for a second. “Hi.” She murmured as the burning sensation on her neck grew. After Thomas moved to behind the counter Jack smirked. “Well, I have to run, I’m sure you’ll do great today.” The last of his sentence was a mere whisper of encouragement to Y/N.

Just as Y/N began to turn to Thomas to say something a shirt was thrown at her head and covered her face. “Get changed.” He ordered while stifling a chuckle. Y/N tore the suffocating shirt from her head and stormed to the door she had originally seen Thomas enter.

Once she exited the back room and was now in the rather itchy blue polo, Y/N noticed that Thomas was now nowhere to be found. She soon found him stocking shelves, a rather pain in the ass smile resting on his face. “Get lost?” He teased, his eyes never leaving the inventory he was placing on the shelves.

“No.” Y/N grumbled, her glare unnoticed or unfazing towards Jefferson. She pushed on as she watched his every movement. “So, what are we doing, stocking shelves?”

“No.” Thomas began as he placed his last can on the top shelf, Y/N raised a curious eyebrow as there were plenty of boxes still placed on the floor. “You’re stocking the shelves.” He said leaning against the shelving behind him. “You’re really going to just sit there and watch me?” She asked before slumping down on her knees and pulling open the closest box. “Yep.” A smug smirk broke across his face as she let out a light groan. Y/N rolled her eyes while facing the shelf, she was regretting taking this offer already. “Like this?” She asked coldly while setting down can after can of peas down.

Thomas just nodded and continued to watch.

They were stuck in and awkward silence, the speakers only playing quiet music around the storm, and fading in and out of static from the rain now pouring outside.

“We go to the same school don’t we.” Thomas finally said, causing a slight jump from Y/N, he chuckled softly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Y/N attempted to hide the heat creeping up her cheeks and continued to work, refusing to look back at the lazy body behind her.

 “Yeah, we do.” She answered quietly. The ambiance of the store felt like a library, and Y/N felt like she needed to be just as quiet. “I knew it, I’ve seen you around.” Y/N smiled gently at the acknowledgement.

Another moment of silence broke between the two.

“You- You hang out with that John kid, right?” Y/N shrugged. “Little bit, why?” Thomas cleared his throat before moving positions, he crossed his arms and leaned back once more. “Are you two like, datin? Cause I don’t need anyone coming in here to distract you” Y/N could hear his embarrassment.

“Uh.” She began, goosebumps growing on her arms. “No, I mean we’ve been on a few dates, but no, we aren’t dating.” She quickly cleared her throat as she moved to unbox the rest of the cans. “He’s… not really my type.” She fought internally at shooting a look at him but stayed focused on her work.

After their awkward one-off conversation, the two stayed pretty quiet. Thomas made his way to the front counter to help the few people in the store, some there to shop, some to congratulate Y/N on her first day.

After a few hours of almost pure silence the doorbell rang out as one of Thomas’ friends entered the store. Though Thomas greeted him like usual he practically b-lined over to Y/N who was stood in almost pure fear.

“Hey, you just started today right?” He asked flashing a bright smile almost causing Y/N legs to give in at the sight. She could barely remember his name; she would always see him and the rest of Thomas’ group smoking at the front of school before classes started.

“Uhm, yeah.” Y/N said her voice coming out like a squeak, another smile broke across his face, his teeth were almost blinding. “I’m Alex, I’ve seen you around school before.” All Y/N could functionally do was nod. “Right, I’m Y/N” she mustered enough to get her voice clear to him. He let out a light chuckled, Yeah, I know.” Cursing herself internally she shook her head. “Right, duh.” She giggled.

Just as Alex opened his mouth to speak once more Thomas’ voice rung out from behind them. “Alex.” His voice was low and close to sounding angry. “Can I help you with something?” Alex glanced back at Thomas’ stature and shrugged. “I’m just… looking.” He said winking towards Y/N who gave a small smile.

Thomas looked between the two. “Well, Y/N can you go make sure the milk isn’t spoiled.” Y/N wanted to protest, she knew there wouldn’t be anything wrong, but didn’t want to piss off the wrong person on her first day.

Alex gave a quick confused look at Thomas whose eyes were now hardening. “Y-yeah, of course.” Y/N began, she took a few steps forward before glancing back at the two boys. “See you later Alex.”

Once done the mundane task the store was completely empty. She walked to the front to see Thomas leaning against the counter reading. “Are you going to teach me the register?” She questioned; her boredom was almost consuming her.

Thomas shrugged, his eyes never leaving his book. “Not much to know, scan here.” He said pointing to the glass with the scanning mechanism in it. “We take cash or credit, if its cash press this.” He moved his hand to a blue button on the register. “If its credit, push this. Don’t forget their change or receipt.” Y/N stood patiently, only to realize he was done talking.

“Oh, okay.”

Though it was getting late the store didn’t close till 9:30, it was one of the only places that stayed open past 8:30 in their small town.

“What are you reading?” Y/N questioned, unmoving still, Thomas lifted his book to reveal the title The Glass Castle. “Oh, I’ve read that before.” Thomas hummed in response, his eyes scanning each word. “Do you like it?” He nodded, Y/N felt an annoyance grow in her as he was unresponsive and shooed off the one person that was talking to her.

She sighed, resigning to leaning on the shelf closest to her.

Luckily, the door rang out, her head snapped towards it to see John entering wearing his normal happy smile. “Y/N, hey!” She quickly made her way over to him, grateful for the new company. Thomas was still reading, basically ignoring any other goings on.

She grabbed at Johns arm and began to lead him down an aisle. “How’s the job?” He asked, shrugging Y/N glanced back at Thomas who was now eyeing the two of them, a shiver ran down her spine. “Its okay, just been really quiet.” Johns eyes followed Y/N’s to Thomas who looked back down at his book again. “Am I going to get you in trouble? I can go.” Y/N’s grip tightened on Johns arm. “No, please don’t. Plus, Thomas is harmless.”

“Okay, well I was wondering if you wanted to go-.” “Y/N” A deep voice came from behind them once more, and once more causing Y/N to jump, her arm pulling away from John’s. She spun on her heel, trying not to glare at him.

“Its gettin’ late, we should start cleanin’ up.” Thomas looked down at her like a child getting talked to by a parent. She nodded then looked at John who looked like he was damn close to shitting himself. “I’ll, uh text you.” She said watching as John scurried out of the store, as did Thomas.

“I thought you said you two weren’t goin’ out?” Y/N finally glared at him, who was still watching the long since closed door. “Eavesdropper.” She accused as he looked back at her. “No distractions.” He warned and turned to go back to the front.

Y/N flipped him off once his back was turned and stormed over to the small closet in the back, she assumed held cleaning supplies, she was correct. “No distractions.” She mocked in her worst Virginian accent.

Its not fair, she thought. He gets to just sit up there with his stupid hair and muscles. He’s the distraction.

She began to sweep a little to aggressively at the floor.

“Easy there cowgirl.” Thomas uttered, she spun. “How are you so quiet?” She asked in a harsh tone. “How are you so easily scared?” He mocked.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she continued to sweep at nothing. “You know we’re closed right?” Y/N’s eyes shot around the store till it fell on the clock now showing 9:35. He could have told her sooner. A slight blush grew on her cheeks as she placed the broom away.

Once changed into their street wear, they met outside, she watched as he locked up the shop, he turned to face her. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, Y/N nodded before turning to go down the street. “Night.” She shouted over her shoulder. “Night!” Thomas yelled back.

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

Y/N jogged into the store, closing her umbrella, the floor gave way from under her and she quickly grasped onto the door handle before hitting the ground. She stood once more and slammed the door shut, fed up with the rain.

She peeled off her soaked jacket before turning to see a smiling Thomas. “Quiet the entrance there.” He said biting back laughter as Y/N bowed. “You’re five minutes late though” He warned raising an eyebrow. “Sorry, the wind pulled my umbrella back and I got soaked.”  She pushed back her hoodie to show a head full of dripping hair.

Thomas released his laughter. “D’you need a towel?” She nodded and one was tossed quickly in her direction.

After she went back to change and scrub some rain out of her hair, she made her way back to the front not one customer in sight. “Any customers yet?” She questioned. “Gunna be a slow night.” Thomas said whilst shaking his head. Y/N let out a long groan. Dead nights were the worst.

She had now been working there for a month, she knew of everything she needed to do and was already bored of it. On slow days she’d clean while Thomas read.

Once the store was basically spotless and everything was faced, she made her way back to the front to see Thomas squinting at a turned around cereal box. She crossed her arms as she leaned against the same shelf. “What, no book tonight?” She asked as he stayed still, he reached under the counter and pulled up a ruined rain-soaked book. “Fell out on my way here. Rain ruins everythin’ I love.” He muttered. “So, you’re reading… a box?” She asked as she looked at it, there was nothing of actual interest on it other than the history of said cereal and nutritional facts. “Nothin else to do.” A sly smile broke across her face as she lifted one finger and slowly pushed the box off the edge, sending it slamming to the floor. “Oh, you are the worst kind of person.” Thomas groaned, he turned to face the empty wall crossing his arms like a child throwing a fit.

“Y/N I’m bored, tell me something.” He whined, still facing the wall, Y/N sighed at his grumpy demeanor. “What do you want to know Thomas?” She asked leaning against the shelf once more.

“Just tell me about you, did you go on a date with that John guy?” Y/N let out a laugh, she knew he wasn’t just asking due to boredom. “No, I didn’t. He’s not my type, remember?” She blushed lightly at the thought of him being genuinely curious about her love life.

“Alex asked me out though.” Thomas’ back straightened and tensed before he turned back around. “Oh.” He mumbled. “What?” Y/N asked as she crossed her arms in curiosity, an eyebrow raised up as she watched him closely. “Nothing.” He said, his eyes on the counter as he picked at the chipping paint. “Bullshit, what?” She demanded; Thomas scrunched his face. “Well, are you going to go out with him?” She quickly shrugged as she looked out the front door, the rain still pouring. “I don’t think so, he always ends up going back to Eliza, or Maria… or John.” She laughed lightly at the now realization on how such a player Alexander truly was.

Thomas broke out into a smile. “I knew you were a smart one.” Y/N picked up the box from the floor. “Gee thanks.” She shot back sarcastically.

They talked for the rest of the shift.

Not one customer.

But Y/N got to learn all about Thomas.

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

Alex leaned in to press a quick kiss to Y/N, something she still wasn’t used to. “I’ll see you after work.” He mumbled against her lips. “Of course.” She said pulling back and hopping out of his car.

As she walked into the store, she saw no body presence at the front. “Thomas?” She called out into the empty store. She walked towards the back room pulling her work shirt out of her bag, she opened the door to see a shirtless Thomas there. “Holy shit! I’m so sorry!” She announced before slamming the door shut behind her.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest. It wasn’t fair that her boyfriend’s friends, (well sort of friend she had now learned.) were so good looking. Not that she didn’t think Alexanders body wasn’t hot, just, damn Thomas.

Thomas exited the back room a smiled glued to his face. “Smooth.” He said as he passed her to get to the front counter. “Oh, shut up.” She warned hitting him on the arm. “It was an accident.” Thomas chuckled. “Don’t worry darlin’ I won’t tell your boyfriend.” Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh before entering the back room. “Get to work, you ass.”

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

 Y/N walked in practically pushing past Thomas. “You’re late.” He mumbled, she ignored him. “I said you’re late.” Thomas said standing straight. “Y/N!” Thomas shouted, stopping her in her tracks. “What, I’m here now so just leave it!” She marched into the back room and changed before making her way to the back of the store.

Y/N kept pulling her phone out, sighing when it came up blank, no new messages, no phone calls, nothing.

Alexander and she had gotten into a fight and it felt like their relationship was near its end, something that was bringing her to her breaking point at the thought. The shift had flown past her before she even knew.

“No phones on the floor.” Thomas’ warning voice came from over her shoulder, she knew he was ticked off with her. She quickly wiped the tears threatening to spill over and turned to him. “Sorry.” She mumbled.

“Oh, um, no I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He questioned, his eyes watching her small trembling body. She shrugged before falling into his chest, a sob broke through her. It was 9 and Thomas knew no one else would be coming at this time. He wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked resting his head against her head which shook and buried deeper into him.

He just squeezed her before sitting the two of them down.

Once it was 9:30 Y/N had calmed down a bit, her body was tired and aching but she sat and explained that she feared Alex was cheating on her, they were barely seeing each other and every time she brought up her fears to him he would kiss her or fight with her on it. This last time they were basically screaming at one another, she knew she was late for work, so she pushed herself past him he had attempted to grab her, but she shook his grip and stormed to the shop.

Thomas Hugged her into his arms. “ ‘M sorry I shouted at ya when you came in, I didn’t know.” Y/N shrugged content in his embrace. “You didn’t know. But, thank you for listening.” Thomas gave her a gentle smile, just as the butterflies rose in her chest, she felt her phone ring against her hip.

Thomas quickly let go and she jumped from his arms.

“Hello?”

It was Alex.

Y/N changed and left on her phone, leaving Thomas behind to close the store.

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

Thomas was late, his mom wasn’t doing well. But she told him to go to work.

They didn’t talk all shift.

His eyes held a sadness as he watched Y/N work.

Everyone knew about his mom and knew better to leave him alone.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to him.

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

“Thomas?” Y/N asked as the two restocked a shelf. “Yeah?”

“Do you think Alex and I are a mistake?”

Thomas tensed and stared straight for a moment.

“Don’t bring me into this.” He muttered putting his last can of soup on the shelf and began to walk away.

“Bring you into what?” Y/N asked bitterly.

“Don’t bring me into your relationship bullshit.” He grumbled.

“I’m not, I’m just asking.” Y/N said, shooting him a glare.

Thomas shook his head and turned back to face her; her heart leapt into her throat at his hardened look. “No, you’re not. ‘just askin’ me;” He raised his hands for the quotations. “You want me to comfort you like last time, then just fuckin’ walk away from me again.”

She had never heard Thomas swear like this before, it gave her a cold chill.

“I didn’t just walk away, you let go of me.”

“Sorry for making sure you were okay.” He scoffed.

Y/N kicked her empty box down the aisle towards him.

“I didn’t ask you to Thomas!” She shouted back, her blood coming to a boil.

“Well I did, and you just left.”

“Why did you even do it!?”

“Because I care about you!”

“Then why are you so upset now!?”

“Because he doesn’t fucking deserve you!” He shouted, he huffed out his next couple of breaths like he had just run a marathon. He rolled his eyes at Y/N’s frozen stature, as he turned to storm off Y/N finally shook off her fear of his anger and march towards him.

“Thomas don’t just walk away.” She demanded, before she could graze his shoulder, he was spun to face her, his hands on her waist as he pulled her against his lips, taking her breath with him.

Her heart skipped a beat from the feeling of his soft lips against hers, something felt like it had exploded in her heart, lungs and brain. Before she could process a thought, before she could truly kiss him back. He pulled away. “Yes, is the answer to your question.” His voice was low and rumbled against her body.

He released her and walked back to the front

She stood there

She stood there till they closed.

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

After the kiss Thomas had their shifts changed, she worked with her uncle most of the time.

Graduation season had come and past, Y/N was now a senior and knew she would never be seeing or running into Thomas at school again.

Alexander and her eventually broke things off, it wasn’t more than a few days till he was with someone else. Thomas was attending college in town, still caring for his mother full time.

He was barely working anymore.

One night in autumn it was pouring rain. Y/N had to close alone, the air hung with something, it was almost like Y/N could feel something bad was going to happen. Her uncle had left his shift muttering something about Thomas’ mom.

Since it was so quiet Y/N was just sat at the front counter running the register, her mind drifted to the memories of Thomas always up there, reading, or helping customers, or just simply talking to her.

After a customer had come in and brought their items to the front Y/N regained focus and began ringing in the items. Once they had finished paying Y/N was just about to hand them their receipt when Thomas came crashing through the door.

He collapsed onto his knees, his hair wet falling onto his face. The customer shot her a look of worry before she ran towards him. “Thomas are you okay?” He shook his head as Y/N began to lift him from his spot on the floor. As she led them to the back room, she heard the ring of the door. She sat Thomas on a chair before running out to lock the door behind the customer.

She quickly made her way back; Thomas had not moved an inch since she set him there. She began to look for a towel, as she turned to check a certain shelf, she felt his arms wrap around her waist. “My mom died.” He sobbed out, shattering her heart and confirming her worst fear. “She’s gone, Y/N.” Y/N watched for a second as the tears slid down his already wet face. She dropped down to the ground before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. God, I’m so, so sorry.” She held him tightly as he buried his face in her shoulder. “I couldn’t look at her, I couldn’t see her like that. I just ran, I came here, you’re the only person I could face.” He cried out as he gripped her harder. “Its okay.” She whispered against his wet hair. “I’m not ready for this. I’ll never be ready for this.”

She held him there till he calmed down as best he could. She took him back to the hospital.

She held his hand at the funeral.

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

Y/N had graduated, she was ready to leave her small town, she had gotten into her dream college and was just months away from getting out of there, she hadn’t worked much due to her studies for exams and applying for all types of colleges.

As she began to pass the shop something in her told her to go in, plus she was a bit peckish.

The door rang out as she entered, her eyes instantly snapped to the front counter, but she was left with disappointment as it was empty.

She absentmindedly made her way through the aisle trying to find something she was in the mood for. Once her eyes landed on a pack of mac and cheese, she picked it up. She glanced up to see Thomas walk behind the counter. The sight of him caused her to fumble with the box and it went crashing to the floor.

Thomas’ eyes flashed up to see Y/N blush and go to pick up the box. Once picked up Y/N looked back to the counter to see it empty once more. She shook her head wondering if she had imagined him. “What are you doing here?” She jumped, once more sending the box tumbling to the ground.

Thomas chuckled behind her, she spun back around and smiled. “Very funny” She glared.

“Its been a while, huh?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I graduated, so I haven’t really been working .”

Thomas broke out into a bright smile. “Well congratulations. When do ya work next?”

She shrugged attempting to hid any creeping feeling of red on her face. “Its staggered for the next few months, then I’m off to college.” Thomas’ eyes dimmed. “Oh, well I’m glad you got in, I’m assuming its not in town?” She almost felt guilty as she shook her head no.

“Then I guess I’m going to have to get our schedules fixed so we can work together again.” Y/N couldn’t stop the smile the broke across her face. “I’d like that.”

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

They laughed.

They goofed around.

They shared food nearing its expiration dates.

They bumped hands and blushed.

And they just had quiet days.

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

 It was her last day. She had her bags packed for the airport and had told her family she’d meet them there.

She had said goodbye to everyone.

Everyone but him.

As she pulled up to the shop and entered, she couldn’t help as a knot grew in her throat.

Once the bell rang out Thomas had jumped up from behind the counter, his eyes landed on her and saw the hurt resting in them, his soon matching hers.

“Well…let the goodbye begin I guess.” He began as he walked towards her, he reached past her and locked the door, placing a sign on it stating he’d be back in an hour.

“Go to the back, I’ll be there in a second.” He practically ordered as he made his way down some aisles. Y/N watched him as she moved to wards the back door, she closed it behind her and sat in an empty seat. Her eyes wandered over the stuffy old room. A towel hung on the edge of a shelf, stiff from not being touched in a while. The copy of Thomas’ Glass Castle book sat opened to dry. But it was never picked up again.

The door soon open and Thomas came in with an arm full of chips and soda, a smile broke through Y/N’s face as she watched him struggle to put the items down. “I’m not lettin’ you leave till you absolutely have to.” She let out a light laugh as she opened a bag of chips. “Okay, but I do have a flight to catch.” Thomas smirked. “They won’t leave without ya.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she popped in a few chips. “Sure.” She said mouth half full.

They sat in a silence for a minute, almost causing Y/N to sink back into her heartbreak of today.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Thomas suddenly said, his eyes gazing  into hers. She fiddled with the tab of her pop before setting it down. “Are you gunna visit?” He asked hopefully, her heart rose as she watched him. “Of course.”

Another wave of silence engulfed the both of them, this time it left the feeling of words unsaid, their eyes never leaving each other. “Y/N.” Thomas began gently. “Can I try something?” He moved forward, she nodded and watched his every movement. His hand slid against her now burning cheek, he leaned closer, his lips hovering over hers for a moment before pressing into her.

Y/N could feel that same feeling she had the last time she kissed, but this time it left her wanting more and this time she could kiss him back, his lips molded against her as she gripped at his shoulder.

He moved back and looked away from her. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Y/N wasted no time to grab at the blue collar of his work shirt and pull him back into their kiss. She slowly stood from her chair and moved to straddle him, their lips almost never breaking from one another.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He mumbled against her mouth and his hands rested on her hips. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long and now you’re leaving.” Y/N could care less about her flight, about her college, about anything. “You have me now.” She sighed out against him.

Thomas groaned lightly, his fingers gripping into her hips harder, his lips smashed into her, his tongue nudging against her which she quickly let into wrestle with hers. His lips then left to trail down her neck, his teeth grazed against her skin sending a shiver down her spine. Thomas moaned at her body movement into her skin.

She could feel him growing against her thigh. “Thomas.” She whispered in a breathy voice. “I have to go soon.” As much as she wanted to stay in this world of it just being him and her, she had to face reality. “God no.” He growled.

[theramseyloft]

hello! im looking into buying pigeons as pets, I have experience with keeping pet birds but I want to get more specific knowledge on pigeons, how would you house them and what social grouping is best for them? and is it best to get younger pigeons if you want them to be more tame?

Pigeons require that you forget pretty much everything you know about any other species of pet bird.

The only thing they have in common is feathers and hollow bones.

Physical needs are dirt simple to meet.

Pigeons are strict granivores. 

They are not capable of digesting anything other than embryonic plant issue.

Once the plant sprouts, they can no longer process it.

So no sprouts, no fruit, no veggies, no leaves, no roots, no stems, no tubers, NOTHING BUT SEEDS!!!!

They do not have the internal organs required to process cellulose.

I’m really sorry to hammer it in like that, but so many people going from pretty much any other species of bird to pigeons make really dangerous mistakes by using the nutritional and habitat rules for their other birds as the base line.

Even vets do this more often than not, because every one’s base line for Companion bird is parrot.

SO many people advocate that pigeons be forced to eat fruits and veggies as if they were parrots.

Their owners, who trust this wide spread misinformation and are only doing what their vet tells them, end up worried that their pigeons are not getting the right blend of nutrients when they refuse those things that are NOT food for them. 

To make the birds eat “enough” veggies, their owners are advised to restrict their seed intake, because “seeds should just be treats for birds, not a dietary staple, or they’ll die of fatty liver disease.”

In the specific cases of Pigeons (Columba livia) and Ringneck Doves (Streptopelia risoria), the poor birds are accidentally starved on a full stomach by people who “Have bird experience” and are genuinely doing their best to take the best care of their pigeon, going by what they already know from other species, encouraged by the advice of their vet.

Please, do not do this to your Columbidae.

Give them a wide variety of seeds, black oil sunflower sized or smaller, that include grains and legumes. 

Dried split green peas and lentils are good legumes to supplement a widely varied seed mix.

Unpopped popping corn is a pleasant treat for many.

Safflower seeds are irresistible training treats to most.

The columbidae do not hull their seeds. They swallow them whole, shell and all, and are dependent on the shells for dietary fiber.

So avoid hulled blends advertised as “mess free.”

Pretty much all commercially available cage for birds are built to display sitting parrots, or contain a little flock of finches.

Pigeons are primarily ground foragers that are not physically capable of climbing, but nest on cliffs.

They need more floor space than height, and flat perches because round ones hurt their feet.

Perches need to have at least a full body length between them, so if there is not space for that, only have one perch in the enclosure.

A training crate for a Labrador sized dog is plenty of space for most breeds of average (about homer) size or smaller.

Larger, taller, or longer winged breeds like Giant Homers, Utility Kings, Voorburg Shield Croppers, Frillbacks, Lagore, and a few others will need a kennel built for Great Danes

The perches in the photo above are modified Garden Stakes (Nearly always square and wooden) cut to legth.

The nest boxes are bunny/ferret corner litter boxes filled with straw.

If you are planning to have a few as pets, rather than a breeding loft, they do best if you think of caging like you would crating a dog:

The crate is not intended to be where the dog lives full time.

It’s where the dog sleeps or waits out the time you are away or otherwise unavailable to supervise out time; while they are still learning the house rules.

When you are home, the dog is let out, and you alternately praise or reprimand them depending on how they interact with your things.

The end goal is for the dog to free roam the house full time, knowing what they are not allowed to mess with, what they are allowed to interact with, and how they are allowed to interact with the things they are allowed to interact with.

Pigeons are exactly as capable of learning house rules, and can get to a point where they are trust worthy free roaming either full time, or during the day.

It’s useful to think of free roam training like you would with a dog or cat, but pigeons have the intelligence of a five year old human child, and a social structure that legitimately can be called a society and is strikingly similar to a close knit extended family of humans.

Pigeons are intensely social. 

They don’t just breed in colonies.

They live in colonies year round that forage cooperatively.

They have a crazy efficient chain of command.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

Whose leaders earn their following by proven merit

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

Every flight capable individual has a vote in what the flock does when they leave the home loft.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

It is not an exaggeration to call a pigeon flock a democratic meritocracy.

And because of that, Pigeons innately expect not just to have a voice in the social group they are part of, but to be aware of that voice being ignored.

Pigeons are incredibly vocally and behaviorally communicative.

This study of sea birds proves that at least some birds are capable of communication through the shells of their eggs.

https://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/animals/stories/baby-birds-communicate-eggs-hatch?fbclid=IwAR39CYrHAfFM6nAP8Rq3TvOox1p5vcb3Z87xqjPoiYNCwMoRvuQaWCeSFjs

Though there have not been pigeon specific studies done, I have noticed babies hatching with more obvious anxiety during stressful periods for the loft, so I have reason to believe that parents communicate with unhatched chicks, and unhatched chicks can communicate with eachother.

Pigeons have higher level cognition. 

They share come cognitive traits with baboons

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/02/090212141143.htm

But they share a shocking number of cognitive traits with humans!

Brain wiring, for example.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Facial recognition

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/04/110411171847.htm

Complex categoroization

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm

They are one of the very few animals (Including corvids, but excluding most parrot species) that are self aware enough to recognize themselves not just in mirrors, but in videos, even with a delay.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080613145535.htm

They can even learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as human toddlers.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

This study is the basis of a communication study I have been doing with our birds for almost two years now.

Earlier, I talked about flocks being democratic meritocracies, and how aware pigeons innately are of their vote being ignored.

The more ignored a pigeon feels, the less cooperative they are inclined to be.

But the more they understand of the world around them and how their behavior effects it, the faster they learn which of their behaviors effect what and how to change their behavior to effect changes they want.

By verbally talking them through everything in the simple, clear way that you would for a toddler who has not yet picked up many words for things, you can teach a pigeon to understand your verbal communication.

With a bit of patience, you can also forge those associations using written words. Pigeons have proven capable of learning the difference between acronyms and actual words.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160919111535.htm

They have also proven to understand abstracts like space and time

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/12/171204144805.htm

Pigeons risk/reward evaluation is even strikingly similar to ours, compelling them to gamble on a bigger reward, once they have experienced the possibility of receiving one, than to stick to the guarantee of a consistent, but small pay out.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/08/140827092105.htm

Building a trusting relationship with a pigeon is more like adopting a tiny, nonverbal human toddler who can fly than training any other type of domestic pet.

It’s easier for a younger bird to learn than an adult, because a younger bird has less ingrained behaviors that they need your help to unlearn, but with patience, any pigeon of any age can build a close relationship with you on the dual basis of trust and communication.

I have lots of asks about training that go into more detail.

Try searching the terms Training, Socialization, Bonding, and Friends.

I don’t have the option to tag asks. I have to go back and edit them after I have posted them in order to add a tag, and I often forget.

Especially when I have a long backlog!

For reference, t time of writing, I have 21 asks waiting to be answered. 

[medu-nefer]

Whumptober 4: Caged

The Dragon Prince, Ethari-centered, Ruthari, gansters AU

(After a year of writer’s block, I finally managed to spew something out, and while it’s so not up to my old standards [please forgive the rusty English; also, it was about 2-3 AM], it’s gotta do for now. Perhaps I’ll rewrite it after the event is done and I have more time to write for all the prompts I have planned out and in the end been unable to get to.

Still, Ruthari content is Ruthari content, so here goes nothing.)

*~*~*

Ethari stared at the people filing into his workshop with an odd sense of detachment.

He had been working on a necklace for one of his clients, something worthy of a grand engagement, when the door burst open and six people came in. He could see two more through the windows but the pair remained outside.

The people inside were well-dressed in dark green, blue or purple suits – and carried knives and guns, quite openly. They scanned his workplace and made sure nobody else was there, and then one of them approached.

The sides and back of his head were shaven, leaving an artistically messy strip of pale blond hair at the top. His eyebrows were thick and dark, and his hazel eyes gave Ethari a quick once-over.

The young craftsman couldn’t help his gaze travelling to the two earrings adorning the man’s left ear before looking into his indifferent eyes.

‘Come on,’ the man murmured, gesturing with his head to the door. As he took a step back to make space for Ethari, his hand ventured towards one of his guns.

Ethari might have been bigger than any of the men – courtesy of indulging in blacksmithing every now and again – but he knew better than to argue. He stood up from his stool and walked to the door. The two people stationed there barely looked at him, focused instead on the street. Once outside, he paused and let the man lead the way. He noticed two of the people remained in his shop.

As they walked through the alleys, Ethari couldn’t help his growing agitation. He didn’t know where they were going or why. He didn’t know whether his skills were needed or if he was being taken for some other reason. He didn’t know if something had happened elsewhere in the city.

He noticed people staring at them from afar but once they walked closer, everyone got out of their path and averted their gazes. The Moonshadows may have been known to never cause unnecessary trouble but it wasn’t wise to get in their way without a good reason regardless.

After all, who in their right mind chose to have contacts with gangsters?

The corner of Ethari’s mouth wandered upwards at the thought and a small snort escaped him, earning him the attention of the woman and one of the men, but he just shook his head.

Finally, they arrived at the warehousing area and he was ushered into one of the buildings. Outside, it looked quite decrepit but on the inside the conditions were better than in most ordinary houses of Silvergrove.

One of Ethari’s eyebrows twitched when he noticed a lone desk and chair in the far corner, far enough away from a few massive tables in the centre of the room – and very far from the entrance.

The leader of the group approached him and gestured towards the desk. ‘Make yourself comfortable. It’ll take a while.’

Without any real choice, Ethari walked over and let himself inspect the furniture. The big tables were made crudely, without any finesse. After all, it was pretty clear they weren’t there for aesthetic purposes.

The desk was an entirely different story, though. There were ornate decorations etched into the wood – ebony, if Ethari wasn’t horribly mistaken. The chair was high-backed and upholstered, a single silken cushion placed on the seat. There were sheets of paper, pencils, pens and measuring tools placed neatly in one of the desk’s corners.

Ethari looked back to the four people watching him closely and sat down with a heavy sigh. He reached for the paper, immediately noticing its ridiculously high quality.

What should he do? Design some weapons, probably. He had never planned on taking his career in this direction but he would be lying through his teeth if he said he hadn’t made anything deadly.

He reached for the pencils and started sketching out an idea he had been entertaining for a while. It was of a knife that could be turned into a hook or have its blade retract altogether to conceal its purpose, depending on the gestures of its user.

For the first hour he ignored a bunch of people that came in or left the warehouse, and focused on his schematics. But eventually, his attention started straying from his task. He watched the woman from before, took in her blue suit, the braided hair with exquisite ornaments. He knew she noticed him looking but ignored him completely.

Growing more and more frustrated – the wave after wave of worry and trepidation making him increasingly more irritable – he decided to abandon his project and focus on something else. Something he had been putting off for too long.

He grabbed a new sheet and started sketching out two circular objects. Finally allowing himself to focus on the positives in his life, he remembered all the good things the last couple of years had brought him. He had never expected to find himself in that place but he was more than happy with how things had played out.

His lips pulled into a soft smile when he created something delicate and peaceful rather than lethal.

Suddenly, there was a presence at his side and he looked up to see one of the other men coming to a stop next to him. His suit was dark green with black elements. He had half of his hair braided at the side of his head, while the rest remained loose. He glanced at Ethari’s new project and smiled.

‘Can’t wait, eh?’ he asked in a thick accent.

Ethari gave him a little smile and shrugged. ‘You know how it is.’

The man nodded curtly. ‘Let me know if you need anything. We’ve run into some trouble with the Katolis’ scum so there’s some issues with the net but I can’t see why you shouldn’t make yourself at home here while we wait.’

‘Thank you, Skor. Unless you can tell me what’s going on, I’m good.’

Skor winced and looked away. Ethari knew what that meant. The information was there, he just wasn’t privy to it. Of course. He was kept in a confinement, with guards watching his every move. What else did he expect?

Suddenly, there was commotion at the entrance. Three Moonshadows entered, limping and swearing. The soles of their boots left bloody footprints on the polished floorboards.

‘What happened?!’ the leader of the group yelled, striding towards his wounded comrades.

‘What the fuck do you think happened, Callisto?’ one of them snarled. ‘Fucking Katolis’ scumbags set an ambush. That fucker Viren orchestrated it. Killed at least three of us. We should have killed him when we had the chance.’

Callisto took a step back when the man started coughing up blood, and got his people’s attention. ‘Ram, take care of them. Andromeda, you go up on the roof and prepare a lookout. We need to know if we’re approached and by whom. We might need to help some of ours get here. Skor, we haven’t heard from the Boss. Find him.’

As he spoke, a few more Moonshadows entered the warehouse and Ethari felt the walls coming down around him.

He really was locked in a wooden box, with more and more gangsters coming in and watching him, while out there, something horrible was happening. He was in a cage and couldn’t get out. He couldn’t—

Tunnel vision and laboured breathing. He had to grab the back of the chair he had been sitting on just moments ago lest he fell. When had he even gotten up? He was shaking and couldn’t focus on anything beside the overwhelming need to go out of there and do something, before it was too late.

But all of a sudden, the door burst open once more and a lone figure walked inside.

‘Boss, you’re fine,’ Callisto said, relief clear on his face.

The leader of the Moonshadows wore a three piece suit and an unbuttoned pea coat on top of it. They were all  in dark blue or green shades, matching each other perfectly. His hair was white, long and partially braided. His piercing turquoise eyes searched the inside of the warehouse and focused on Ethari.

The young craftsman barely registered what was happening before the gangster’s long legs carried him through the room and into Ethari’s personal space. He began to relax only when he felt hands on his cheeks and lips crashing with his own.

His hands latched onto the other man’s vest and pulled him closer, the excruciating weight of fear lifting off his shoulders.

‘Runaan,’ he murmured against his lips, earning himself a bone-crushing embrace.

‘I’m sorry for worrying you,’ Runaan whispered. ‘Viren was making a move against us and I needed to know you were safe.’

‘I was scared something happened to you.’

Runaan pressed their foreheads together hastily. ‘I promised you I’d be fine. Don’t worry.’

Ethari gave him a weak smile. ‘Somebody has to.’

Unwillingly, they let each other go but kept their hands intertwined when Runaan turned to his people and started giving orders. Within moments, they had their plan of action and most of the gangsters left to do their part to ensure Katolis wouldn’t be able to deal any more damage.

Runaan was making plans for the immediate future when he noticed Ethari’s designs on the desk. He reached for one of them and picked it up, a warm smile adorning his face.

‘Think you can make these before the wedding?’

Ethari tore his gaze away from Runaan’s beautiful face to the two wedding rings he had sketched out.

He felt a grin splitting his face as he pulled his fiancé into yet another kiss, knowing he’d steal plenty more later on, when all the Moonshadows were safe and accounted for, and the two retired for the night.

’Why don’t we see?’

[star-spangled-steve]

His New Partner

Chapter 30: The Best Uncle

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1964

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy, cussing, light fluff.

A/N: This did not turn out as good I wanted it to be, but it still gets the point across. Oh, and also, don’t let the GIF deceive you. This is obviously still a Steve fic!

“Y/N?” Tony called out as he opened the door to her bedroom, which he had to override the locking system to get into. It wasn’t something that he took pride in doing, but she hadn’t left her room in over 48 hours, and he knew that she wouldn’t unlock it on her own.

The whole team, or at least what was left of it, was extremely worried about her. Sure, Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Wanda leaving meant something to everybody. But for Y/N to loose her husband was an especially big deal.

“Y/N?” The man called again, not being able to see anything in the pitch black of her room. All of the lights were off and all of the blinds were shut, despite it only being 6:00 in the evening. “N/N?”

An audible groan came from the middle of the space, making Tony realize that she was on her bed. He turned on the flashlight from his electronic watch, courtesy of his very own Stark technology, and made his way towards her bedside table, switching on the lamp.

“Turn it off.” The girl whined, rolling around to face away from him and burying herself deeper under the covers. She was still wearing the same clothes that he had found her in two days before, when he gave her the letter and essentially broke her heart. “Go away.” The man heard a small sniffle. “Please, just go.”

“N/N,” Tony spoke while still hovering over her bed awkwardly, “we really should talk about this. I know how much it hurts, but you can’t stay in here forever.”

She shook her head, just clinging harder onto the pillow that she was holding in her arms. Steve’s pillow. “P-Please go.”

The man finally realized that she was crying, instantly making him wonder if she had been doing so for the full 48 hours. “We have to talk about this, Y/N.” He sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I don’t ‘wanna.” She said while wiping her eyes, finally turning around to face him. It wasn’t hard to see the guilt painted on Tony’s face, and she now felt just as bad. Y/N knew that her husband leaving wasn’t Tony’s fault; Steve was plenty old enough to make his own choices.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” The man gave her the biggest smile he could muster at the moment. “I know that my apology won’t bring him back, but I just wanted you to know that I truly am sorry.”

The girl shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She inhaled a shaky breath and absentmindedly rested her hands on her still flat stomach, a small habit that she had developed over the last couple days. “Maybe if I had-”

“Hey, hey, hey, N/N.” Tony sternly interrupted. “This is in no way your fault.”

She slowly began to sob again, the topic being too hard for her to bear. “I-I-I’m just...” she sniffled, “I’m just so sad. A-And I want to be angry. I don’t want to be bawling my eyes out, I want to be cursing his name. B-But I can’t, Tony, I can’t.” The girl hid her face behind her hands, too embarrassed to be seen by anybody. “Because all I do is miss him. Oh god, I just miss him so bad, Tony.”

The man hadn’t even noticed that he started to tear up as well, just the sound of her devastated voice making him feel so horrible. “I’m sorry, N/N. Incredibly sorry. But I don’t know what to do. How can I help? Just tell me, hon.”

She sniffled. “Well, there is one thing you can do.”

“What is it?” Tony’s face immediately lit up, happy that he could help her in any way.

“Grab me a Kleenex?”

The man let out a small chuckle before leaning over to her nightstand, grabbing a couple of tissues and handing them to her. Y/N sat up to lean against her headboard as she dried her eyes and cheeks.

“Thanks.” She gave him a small smile.

The pair became quiet, the only sound in the room being the girl’s laboured breaths from all of the previous crying.

“I-I’m scared, Tony.” She breathed out after a minute’s time, now beginning to play with the tissues in her hands out of nervousness. “I’m really, really scared.”

“Of what, N/N?”

“W-What if he never comes back?” She spoke, meeting his eyes with a sad gaze. “A-And I know that he hurt you, so I don’t know, maybe you don’t even want him to come back, but I really need him here.”

Tony shook his head. “Yes, he hurt me. But I do care about you, and I hate that you have to feel like this.”

Y/N nodded, feeling grateful to have such an amazing friend. She knew that he deserved to know the full story of what was going on with her, but was just a bit too scared to say. What would he think? Would he be excited? Would he become more stressed? Would he think of her as nothing but a burden? All of these thoughts ran through the girl’s mind, before she ultimately decided to just go for it.

“I have to tell you something.” She blurted out, feeling more tears threatening to fall. Damn hormones. “I-I... oh, goodness.”

“What is it?” Tony questioned. “You can tell me.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“I’ve walked in on you on the toilet, N/N.” The man added, hoping to lighten the mood. “It can’t get anymore embarrassing than that.”

Y/N quietly giggled, sniffling right afterwards. She felt him grab her hand in support, finally feeling secure enough to let out her big secret. “I’m pregnant, Tony.”

She saw his eyebrows furrow and head shake back and forth in denial. “What?”

“I’m pregnant.” She stated again while using a more confident tone of voice, greatly contrasting how she felt on the inside. “I found out two days ago, only several hours before you handed me that letter.”

“I-” He was at a loss for words. “Oh my god, Y/N.”

“Just great, right?” She said sarcastically, looking up at the ceiling to keep the tears inside her eyes instead of falling down her face. “My husband and I have been trying to start a family for months, and when we finally do, he leaves.”

“Here.” Tony spoke while passing her the whole tissue box. He saw her wipe her eyes once again, feeling his heart clench at the sad sight. Poor Y/N.

“And it’s not like he knew, obviously.” The girl continued on. “It’s just, fuck, the first time we ever discussed these accords together, he told me he’d stop working for a little while if I got pregnant. If I had just known a little bit sooner-”

“Don’t dwell, Y/N.” The man cut her off, still in complete shock. “It’ll just make things worse.”

She scoffed. “As if things can get worse.”

Tony rubbed her arm soothingly, looking into her glistening E/C eyes. He didn’t want to sound rude, but the question just tugged at his mind. “Are you going to keep it?” He watched her quirk her head to the side in confusion. “You know, the baby? There’s always adoption, or-”

“I want to have the baby.” Y/N told him. “I want to keep the baby.” She shook her head slowly, bringing her hands to her middle once again. “I already love him or her so much.”

Tony slightly smiled, stretching out an arm for her. “Come here.”

The girl took this as a clue for her to cuddle in, and she did exactly so, wrapping her own arm around his waist as they sat on the edge of her bed.

For one of the first times in their whole friendship, the man wasn’t making any jokes. He wasn’t poking fun, saying sarcastic or witty comments. He was just being there for her; hugging her, holding her. Y/N had never before felt more gratitude towards him than in that very moment.

“I don’t want you to worry, sweet pea. You have a living being in you, that’s stressful enough as it is.”

She sighed and briefly closed her watery eyes. “I-It’s just so hard, Tony. I just miss him, and it’s his child too.”

“I know, honey, I know.” The man nodded, running his hand up and down her back, before he came upon a realization. “There, uh, there might be a way for us to contact him.”

“Huh?” Y/N’s ears suddenly perked up. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he gave us his new number in case we need anything.” Tony explained. “He programmed into an old flip one, that way any calls can’t be traced back to us directly.” He heard her puff out a breath, clearly surprised at this new information. “We can call if you wa-”

“No.”

The man was taken aback at her quick response, honestly expecting to hear the opposite answer. “‘No?’”

“Exactly. ’No’. He clearly has better things to do than talking to me.” Y/N stated quite resentfully.

“N/N, you know that’s not true. He loves you more than anythi-”

“Really?” She spoke shakily. “Because last time I checked, men who love their wives don’t leave their wives.”

“Y/N-”

“Look, Tony, I’m not debating on this with you, or anyone for that matter.” She lifted anther tissue to her eyes, dabbing lightly at the now red skin. “He made a choice. I’m not to going to sit at the phone and beg for him to return. Do I think that he would come back if I told him about the baby? Yes. But I don’t want him to resent me, or even his son or daughter for getting in the way of whatever was so important. Steve can decide for himself whether or not I’m important enough for him to return. If the only reason he comes back is for feeling guilty the baby, who’s to say what he’d actually rather be doing.”

Tony just nodded, not wanting to argue with the clearly very emotional woman. Everybody knew that Steve would rather be with Y/N than anywhere else, but she was probably just too distraught to see it right now. “Well, don’t worry about doing this on your own. Okay? You’ll always have me, and you’ll always have the rest of our team too.”

She smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time in a couple of days. “Thank you, Tony.”

“No problem.” He grinned back. “Now come on,” Tony spoke, rubbing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I was about to make dinner.”

“You?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, but I’m already having enough trouble keeping things down.”

The man sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll order us dinner.” He shook his head with a small chuckle. “I see your attitude is still in place, though.”

“Sorry.” She shrugged sheepishly while Tony just brushed it off.

“I was kidding. You’re pregnant, so, uh, be as mean as you want.” He watched as Y/N giggled before standing himself up, offering her his hand to get off the bed as well. “Now, it’s been way too long since you’ve had a good meal; judging from all those candy bar wrappers, anyway. So come on, you’re eating for two now. You have to stay healthy and stro-”

Tony was suddenly cut off by a big hug, which he instantly sank into. He ran his hands up and down the girls back, feeling her gradually calm down in his embrace.

“Thank you.” She quietly spoke against his shoulder, giving his torso another squeeze filled with gratitude. Y/N took a deep breath, feeling safe and secure inside of his arms, and finally having the hope that things will all work out okay. “You’re going to be just the best uncle.”

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @crist1216 @songforhema @the-obsessive-fangirl @stressedandbandobessed7771 @straightforwardly @fruitypebbles34 @krazykatkay456 @the-kang-bang @uhh-katie-griffiths @mcuclintasha @capsiclesdoll  @allsortsofinterests @nova3312 @tyes-girl @kind-sober-fullydressed @mschrisaholic @shirukitsune @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @mccloudchloe @notyourtypicalrose @spider-captain @jesseswartzwelder @firecatcher007 @ctrl-alt-jeon @dixonluvv @may-machin​ @elew223​ @fallenoutofrose​ @secretsihideinside​ @kaetastic​

Tell me if you want to be added!❤️

[harvestheart]

HOME, SWEET HOME - now more than ever

I have not been out of my house since March 17.  In that time, while viewing the daily news updates, I notice both Arizona Governor Doug Ducey and Dr. Fauci, the  immunologist, have had haircuts. With Trump, I can never tell when Melania has cut his hair.

But  today was the day I had to go to a store.  After 10 days of seclusion, it felt strange to be driving again. It came back quickly enough, so no worries. There was more traffic on the road than I had thought there would be. Certainly more than there should be. It was still lighter than "Friday light" but it was 2:30 p.m. My goal was to be done before rush hour and back home.

I also noticed several houses had "for sale signs" on my street that were not there two weeks ago. I am thinking they may be on  the market a while since so many people have lost their jobs. It is going to be a rough market until the economy evens out.  I only wish I had money to buy a car, because there should be some good deals on the 2020s.  However, my reality is less grandiose.  I dream of a new washing machine or refrigerator.

So I was forced to go into the world today because the pet food supply was getting dire and to prevent the pets from even thinking of eating each other or me, it had to be done.  I made a list to do everything in one shot and get back to seclusion.

The 99 Center store was the first stop. I got some decent produce (potatoes, onions, garlic, cabbage, cauliflower, tomato, sweet potatoes) all cheaper than at the regular grocery stores. I found  the cans of dog and cat food, enough to last another 10-12 days. Yet there was absolutely no paper products to be found.  

On to Fry's/Krogers. I did pretty good there, except, again, no napkins, paper towels, toilet paper, paper plates. NONE. There were also no gallons of drinking water, so I got a case of bottled water. Also, there was barely any pasta or rice. Even the Hamburger Helper section was nearly empty, which is okay, cause you can make your own in a covered skillet better than that. I thought the supplies would be evened out by now, but ... nope.  What are people doing with all that paper? Fry's is letting seniors shop Monday through Thursday 6-7 a.m., so I can try that next time I absolutely must shop.  

I did find bread, but not the kind I would normally buy. Stlil and all, am glad to have bread again. It is not the time to be picky.  (I can always try that recipe for beer bread when this runs out.)

On the next isle I saw a guy sneezing like crazy. I promptly did a 180 to a different isle. He might have allergies, as do I, but it is also not the time to tempt the fates.

I snagged a large package of chicken breasts (only one package per customer allowed). One is plenty for preparing several different dishes. Gonna do a creamed chicken & rice dish with snap peas and spring green onions. I will supplement my meat proteins with tuna, SPAM, quesadillas and also make some pasta carbonara with bacon instead of ham and hard cheese.

As a weekend treat, I purchased two big cans of Sol Chelada.  This should also help me sleep soundly, 'cause I have been having nightmares. Anxiety has a way to find you even in your dreams.  Self-talk doesn't help you there.  Only lots of exercise or whiskey or long hours of work helps me there.  With the gym being closed, and admittedly not being self-disciplined about my at-home exercise, I can feel the waist expanding.  But one crisis and problem at a time.

Another treat, a box of Almond Honey cookies.  Plus, I still have my brownie mix and may make an easy peanut butter fudge soon.

Overall, I feel fortunate to have gotten most things on the list, though the sizes and brands were not my normal selections. I just really do not want to go back to the store until I must. I keep hoping we turn the tide sooner than later, but looks like Arizona's numbers are still climbing. We are headed toward 80+ degrees next week and I wonder if the warmer weather will actually work in our favor soon. If this turns out to be a seasonal virus, it might give the scientists time to find answers.

While I fill my days with weed-eating a badly overgrown backyard and being creative in my cooking, watching old DVDs, sketching, reading, watching television, the days are passing.  

Meanwhile, my long time friend in Ohio is facing real challenges.  She is currently a patient at the Ohio State Hospital in Columbus. She has been ill for a long time and waiting for a kidney, but because of a persistent infection that just won't go away, her doctor had her go to ER because that is the only way to get a hospital bed right now.  She was put into isolation until they could test her for "the virus". Today she got the news she is negative and they moved her out of isolation to a regular room.  Now we are hoping they can get her better enough with intravenous antibiotics to let her get out of there and away from possible contagion.  

Home is where you want to be right now.  Home, be it ever so humble, there really is no place like home -- never more true as now.

[laughing-with-god]

Pandemonium IX

Words; 3.3k

“Oh I guess they’ll never know, how a young heart really feels, and why I love her so....And they called it puppy love.” -Paul Anka

The feeling was somewhat foreign to you.

But this was to be expected, as it has been a long time since you have kissed someone.  

His lips felt very gentle despite being somewhat chapped and they tasted like the dried mango chapstick that you often saw Jungkook carry with him.  

You leaned back to depart your connected orifices, but Jungkook leaned forward in response.  He was unwilling to let the moment go away that quick. 

You opened your eyes and saw his closed ones that were still very much into the moment.  He smashed his lips more heavily against yours and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, eyes still open.

It was adorable how into the smooch he was.  He was completely lost in the taste of you.

You tapped his shoulder in signal for him to back off.

His doe eyes fluttered back into awareness, a glossy and dreamy look casted over those dark irses.  The man child backed away from you, but still held you captive in his giant arms.

His face got redder as he began to process what just happened, but you just giggled.  

“Y/n….are you drunk?”  His breathy voice asked very carefully.   His brow furrowed and you could practically see the gears turning in the little pea-brain of his.  It was likely that he thought that this was a drunken mistake and that he may even be taking advantage of you right now.  Your rolled you eyes.

“No.”  

His brows shot up and he gazed down at you, cheeks still red.  “T-then….umm..why?”

“It’s crazy how the human will works right?  I can just kinda do whatever I want, whenever I want.  Fucking wild, am I right?” You joked, trying to release yourself from his arms now.  He shook his head furiously at this and it reminded you of a toddler who was in the beginnings of a temper tantrum.  His eyes held such a glossy film over them that it almost made him look teary eyed, while his cheeks were still painted strawberry red and dark brows were furrowed in a brilliant mixture of confusion and frustration.  His lips (that you now were familiar with the taste and feel of) were scrunched up in a pout and his black hair wagged back and forth in the motion of shaking his head.

“Y/n~!”  He whined, musical voice sounding high and bleak as he bitched.  

“I just wanted to know how you would kiss me back, to be honest.  I figured you would be like a pre-teen who would freak out and use too much tongue, or get WAY too confident and reach for the boob.”  You shrugged. Jungkook scoffed at this explanation.

“I’m literally older than you.  You should stop comparing me to a child.”  You laughed at this.

“Yeah but women mature faster than men, dude.  Even though I’m younger, I’m still like four steps ahead of you mentally.”  

His pokable nose scrunched up.  “That’s a myth!”

“No.”  You said.

“Yuh huh.”

“Nuh uh.

“Yuh huh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh-” Jungkook was cut off when you screamed “NUH UH TIMES INFINITY!”  

He snapped his mouth shut, and given he wasn’t a barbarian, he clearly knew that he was beat due to the ‘times infinity’ rule.  No one could beat that. It was a rule of life.

You smirked at this victory and backed away from him, this time he let you go.  

“Where’s your friend?”  he asked just now noticing your lack of companionship.  You shrugged.

“She went to go talk to someone and I haven’t seen her since.”

His youthful face scrunched up at this, “That’s rude that she just left you…”  

“Eh, I’m not going to try to cockblock.”  You told him. You weren’t sure if there was something going on between Kat and Lia, but you hoped something would.  Lia would make a perfect rebound, and this would be an ideal opportunity for Kat to see right out the bat that there was plenty of fish in the sea just waiting for her.  

“So...what are you going to do until the party’s over?”  He asked, rubbing the back of his neck while shyly looking down.  

“I don’t know to be honest.”  You responded. But then an idea struck you.  You bounced on the heels of your feet and gave him the ole’ razzle dazzle (ie; you trying to bat your eyelashes and smiling stupidly in hopes he would pity you enough to do what you want).  “Mayhaps you should get me out of here and buy me something.”

Jungkook’s face shot up, face eager and obvious at the prospect but also slightly disbelieving.

You inwardly snickered, he was like a puppy eager to please.  

“Buy you something?  Like what? I swear to god (Y/n) if you try to make me fund a shopping spree at ass’oclock at night I’m-”  You cut him off by waving your hand.

“Sis, I’m nothing like that.  I like being spoiled by food and financial security, not Louis Vuitton bags.  I was thinking more like a late night snack?”

Jungkook nodded dumbly at you, eyes still glossy and cheeks pinkened.  

You stood there awkwardly for a moment, awaiting him to do something.

“Ummm….my dude this is the part where you whisk me out of here.”  

Jungkook bolted into action after being frozen for a second and took your hand into his and lead you back into the house.  

He guided you through the drunken mayhem of yelling idiots, obnoxious music, and making out couples and eventually you two got to the front of the house.  Parked near curb, was a nice red mustang and you just knew that your little jock-toddler was the proud (if not smug owner) of it.

Confirming this, Jungkook clicked a button on his tiny remote thingy attached to his keys from his spot a few feet away. In response, the mustang’s lights bursted into light.  

He jogged ahead of you and opened the passenger seat for you.

You got in while snickering evilly.  

The brothers might think that they were your sugar daddies.  

But, you were their pimp.   

--

You had a craving for tacos and Kook was nothing but obedient.

You two were eating the drunken snack whilst parked at the Taco Bell parking lot.  

“Kook?”  You asked after squeezing more salsa onto your taco.  He perked up right away and your slightly fuzzy mind released endorphins at this, seeking pleasure at the fact that his body language screamed ‘OBEDIENT PUPPY EAGER TO PLEASE’.  

“Yes?”  he asked, doe eyes sparkling at you.

“What’s your zodiac sign?”  you asked.

His brows furrowed as he thought about it for a second, trying to recall.  “Virgo, I think.”

“Oh sis!  You’re a perfectionist, huh?”  

Jungkook’s delightful voice chuckled.  “I don’t know, do you think I am?”

You looked at him up and down while chewing on your food carefully.  “I mean to have your muscles, one has to be very disciplined.”

“I guess I can be.  But do you like virgos?”  He asked, attention fully on you as you stuffed your face.  

“Kookie, let me tell you something about me.”  You started off dramatically. “I am a woman who beats to the sound of her own drum.  I am spontaneous and wild. In other words, I’m not like most girls. You cannot put me in a box, my man.”  You leaned close to his face. “I color outside the lines, sis.” You whispered to him, making deep eye contact.  

Jungkook giggled, “I don’t follow what this has to do with Virgos?”

You leaned closer to his face, noses bumping as your eyes screamed seriousness as his crinkled in suppressed laughter.

“I don’t fit inside your cookie cutter box, baby boy.”  You -attempted to- purr. However right after this, a loud burp escaped you.  

Jungkook laughed loudly as you wondered to yourself if you really were drunk?  But you decided that you weren’t given that you only had a handful of drinks and you were just more loose and comfortable than what you usually were.  

“Are you sure your not drunk?”  Jungkook laughed.

“‘HA HA, suck my clit.”  You groaned while finishing your treat.

���Clit?”  he asked while laughing harder.  You rolled your eyes once more. Why did everyone laugh their asses off when you talked?  You weren’t even that funny.

You got brief flashbacks of Jimin and all the times he would giggle madly at your unique choice of diction.

“Duh, I can’t say suck my dick.  I don’t got one, honey. But please feel free to feast on this clitorous.”

Jungkook roared harder at this, clutching his stomach in hysteria.  After a while, he calmed down and turned his attention towards you one more.  

“I mean….I wouldn’t mind that.”  He said, voice purposefully deeper as he gave you a smouldering gaze while his face twisted up in what he must’ve thought was alpha male attractiveness.  

You gasped in disgust.  

“I cannot believe that I ever thought you could be a fuckboy.”  You told him. “You look like such a Chad when you try to pull bitches.”  

Jungkook looked offended, “What you didn’t find that sexy?”  

You laughed.  “NEVER make that face again in my presence, please.  You looked constipated. Also, you are the sexiest when you are an obedient little fella.”  

“Obedient?”   Jungkook looked unconvinced.  “I thought girls liked the ‘daddy’ type of guy.”

You giggled.  “Some do. But, I personally like it when you’re all eager to please.  My aunt once told me that men are like dogs and needed to be trained. You are perfectly trainable, baby.”  

Jungkook was stunned into a silence as your crumpled up your taco wrapper and threw it into the taco bell bag.  

“Kookie?”  

He broke away from his little trance and snapped his head to you.

A sudden urge to stay with your little puppy fogged your brain.  Jungkook was so sweet and gentle and you had no worries of him ever taking advantage of you.  Hell, if anyone was going to take advantage of anyone, it was going to be you to him. With his cute little doe eyes and boopable nose.  You decided to ask.

“Let me sleep over at your house.”  

He slightly coughed at this, eyes widened at your request.  “Why?”

“I want to live like a blue blood heiress tonight.  I bet you have Netflix AND hulu.”

Jungkook snorted and started his car back up.  “Who am I to not be a little obedient puppy?”

--

Jungkook lived in an apartment that was near campus.

But just because it was an apartment did not at all mean it was shabby.  

It was on the top floor of a very high-rise building.  It was like a mini-penthouse and you happily skipped around, awwing at the place.

It had a giant living room complimented with a wide ass flat screen, top of the line gaming consoles and a L shaped black couch.  A kitchen with a marble island and black barstools, and a balcony that overlooked the shimmering city lights. The entire place smelled faintly of his cologne.  It wasn’t a grand amount of space, but considering the city view and the high-class building, you knew it was a luxury apartment. He just didn’t need extra room when it would just be him living there.

No decoration was really seen.  All pictures that were hung up were mainly black and white photographs of scenery.  You noted that all appliances were either black, white, grey or silver. But you didn’t expect a 21 year old male college student to be into interior design so you shrugged the simplicity off as normal.  

You squealed and hopped onto the couch.  You openly made yourself comfortable to do what you wished.  With Jungkook, you always knew that he would let you walk all over him before he’d ever restrict you in any way.  Perhaps this is why you felt so free in an element that was clearly not yours- Jungkook’s home.

“Jungkook!  Let’s watch a scary movie!”

He sat beside you and turned on the TV with a remote.  “Don’t girls hate those types of movies?”

You explained,  “Mama didn’t raise no bitch.”

He laughed and scrolled through some movies on screen as you leaned back into your spot.  “Kookie, I know you’re rich and all but how the fuck do you live here?”

He shrugged, eyes still on screen.  “My father owns many buildings in the city.  Some are apartment buildings. I just had to ask one for a place and they gave it to me.  I don’t even have to pay rent.”

“You should let me move in.” You joked.  Jungkook halted his movie-searching.

“Anytime you want.”  Is all he said which slightly baffled you at the seriousness in his tone.  “So Saw or The Conjuring?”

You settled on The Conjuring and he happily obliged.  He got up for a minute as the opening scene played out, only to return with a big fluffy grey blanket that he threw over you two.  

To your surprise, he nestled himself very close to you and threw his hefty arm over your smaller form.  

If it was any guy, you might have been put off by this.  But it was Kookie. And despite his image, he was harmless.  Like a puppy. All bark but no bite. Even if you wanted to push him away, images of his iron man socks, video gaming sessions and IU posters would pop up into your head and dismiss that idea right away.

You cuddled closer to his side.

Having an overgrown obedient child with muscles the size of Texas on your side wouldn’t hurt you.

And to be honest, he was really cute.

In a puppy way though…...

--

Peaceful slumber was evilly ripped from your clutch as you felt your still form begin to shake.  

You groaned, deep within your throat (that you noted was really dry) and the sound was raspy yet far away in your ears.

You pulled your worthless pile of bones closer to the heat source and smushed your head into the soft and thick object.  

The shaking got more persistent, causing you to slowly become more aware of things you didn’t wish to wake to.  

Slowly, a sound joined on the shaking.

A breathy voice calling for your name.  “Y/n~”

It was like a siren that gently forced you to open your eyes.  

Jungkook’s adolescent face was the first thing that you saw.  

His eyes cinkeling cheerfully (yet tiredly) as his little overbite show casted in the form of a gentle smile.  The soft and thick object you had smushed your face in? His chest.

You were in a king sized bed, and you had awaken to see that you had slept through the night whilst being face-to-face with Jungkook.  

“You have a really nice mattress.”  You complimented him (openly trying to ignore all the other factors at play here), voice raspy and bleak from the effect of sleep.  

Jungkook smiled.  “How about that brunch?”

You and Jungkook got up and began your day.  

He handed you a large hoodie of his and said that you could wear it if you wanted.  You took the large ‘Puma’ hoodie because you didn’t feel right going to brunch in the now wrinkled and taco-smelling crop top that you adowned last night.  He handed you an extra tooth brush and you two brushed your teeth together.

“This is so fucking domestic, dude.”  You had told him.

He had chuckled and spit into the sink, “Yeah it’s like we’re married and shit bro.”

You mentioned that last night’s makeup was nowhere to be seen on your face.  Jungkook blushed and slyly admitted that he heard how sleeping in makeup was bad so he cleaned your face off with a wipe after you fell asleep during the movie.  Next, he took you to his bedroom since he didn’t think the couch was good enough. He swore he didn’t try anything while 

sleeping next to you and you just laughed it off but thanked him for taking such good care of you.

If he had a tail, you could’ve sworn that it would’ve been wagging at the sound of your praise.  

You patted his head and said, “Good boy.”  

Then, you two headed out to the overly expensive brunch place that Jungkook had looked up.  

Both of you clad in oversized hoodies, slight bed head and tired but happy faces.  

--

“So do you want blueberry pancakes or chocolate chip?”  Jungkook asked.

You two were seated at a booth.  However, you two were sat at the same side.  You had your head (that was partly covered by a hood) rested on his buff shoulder while he read the menu and gave you the options for brunch.

Like a father and daughter, the way he read it to you as you childishly laid yourself on him.

“Bold of you to assume I want pancakes, bun.”  You said while nuzzling yourself closer to him.  “Waffles are god tier breakfast food and I’m not even about to argue.”  

Jungkook laughed and you felt the vibration from under you.  “Waffles it is, babygirl.”

He called over a waiter and ordered the food with suave.  

“Jungkook?”  You called out.  

“Hmm?”  

“Do you think you’re more like your mother or more like your father?”  It was a question that was meant to get to know a person. Certainly, it would give insight to not only Jungkook’s personality, but his parents.  His head turned towards you, and due to your position on his shoulder, your noses were only a centimeter apart and your eyes were extremely close and boring into each others at such a proximity.  

“Ummm...I don’t remember my mom that much.  She left the country when I was very young. And my dad is very opposite of me.  Pretty cold and distant in all honesty.” Jungkook paused, round eyes looking down for a second.  “How about you?”

You avoided the obvious land mine that was his sensitive family history.  You didn’t want to be responsible for ruining the light-hearted vibe that was supposed to come along with brunch.  So, you just focused on answering the question with a joyful smile.

“I’m more like my mother, without a doubt.  I’ve always been told I got the smart ass gene from my mom.”  You said, peering up at him.

“What’s your mother like?”  He asked, seemingly very interested.

“She’s very head-strong and outspoken.  When I was in first grade, there was a boy who would pick on me sometimes.  I asked my mom for advice. And she knew the boy and his family because they lived near us.  She told me to tell the boy that his mom was fat and his dad was bald and the future wasn’t looking bright for him.  I got detention but my mom took me out for ice cream because she was proud.” The memory was fond to you as it just showed your mom’s unorthodox methods of raising you into the very witty woman you were now.  

Jungkook laughed hard at that, his closeness allowing you to observe his eye crinkles with much more detail.

“I’d love to meet your mom.”  he said while gazing down at you with admiration in his big brown eyes.  

“I’d love that too.”  You responded.

“Is she better after her accident?”  Kook asked, surprising you with his memory.  

“Yeah, it wasn’t that serious to begin with.  Can’t believe your brother found a way to pay for her medical shit.”  

Jungkook grumbled at that, face turning pouty.  “It’s not fair, if I knew about your mom before he did, I would’ve done something too!”  

You laughed.  “I’m sure you would have Jungkook.  How about you will be the first one to meet her, huh?”  You didn’t care how unrealistic the proposition was, you wanted to cheer up the babe.  And it worked, his face brightening up almost instantly.

A ding on your phone sounded and you checked to see who it was.  

It was Kat.

‘I’m gonna skip past where the fuck you are and go straight to WHY THE FUCK WERE YOU SEEN KISSING A FUCKBOY AT THE PARTY?!’

{AUTHOR”S NOTE: so lmao funny story. Whilst I was writing this, god striked upon me and now only one of my headphones work.  Love that.  Wish I could make money off tumblr (you know like youtubers do) bc a bitch broke.  So school is starting and I gotta say, I can’t pull off that many all nighters anymore.  Updates will probably slow down a bit but like I think I gave you guys a lot over my break???  Also, hello to like a bunch of you guys who recently discovered Pandemonium???  A lot of you hoes came out of the woodwork so like hey.  Hit up my inbox with what you guys thought of this chapter while I knock out the 17 requests I got.}

[theawkwardterrier]

These Bricks and Beams

Steggy Week 2k19, day 5 Prompt: Domestic Bliss

Summary: On the house hunt. Frustratingly.

AO3 link here.

Peggy has a plan. She does for most things, after all, and buying her first house as a newlywed is no exception. She and Steve have stayed in the familiar flat they love several months past its being strictly comfortable. It’s always been a small place, and it was already becoming cramped with two of them living there. Steve’s clothes hang in the front closet because the bedroom wardrobe is too small for them to share, and now they’re stepping around wedding gifts when they just want to make some toast in the morning.

So one Monday Peggy puts the plan into motion, calling up a Realtor and requesting that they be shown some scaled up residential properties on the market. She and Steve have agreed on their basic qualifications for size, location, price range, and amenities, and Hank Farmer (Number 1 seller three years running! - according to whom, she wonders) gives her every indication that he’ll be able to find some good options for them to see by next week.

Farmer is just as toothily smiling in person as he sounds over the phone. She and Steve exchange a look, but he does come highly recommended (Steve had actually called the local Realtors Bureau, and apparently it is they who keep statistics on who has sold the most in the area) so they push onward, schooling their faces into welcoming blankness.

They see four properties on the first day, flats larger than their current one but with prices that push at the upper boundary of their budget and perhaps even overflow. Steve widens his eyes and shakes his head behind Hank's back when he tells them how much the third floor walkup costs, and she isn't entirely certain the serum will protect her husband from giving himself a stroke at the thought of writing the monthly rent check.

Hank shows them some houses at their next outing, which do have the advantage of price and space, although she'll have a slightly longer commute.

"These units are just sprouting up like weeds," Hank enthuses as they walk through their third such identical house. "Got plenty of young couples set up in ones just like this, and they love them! All the latest: garage for the tinkering gentleman, fresh new linoleum and appliances for the missus." No matter how many times they've mentioned that Steve plans to stay home, Hank refuses to actually absorb the information, handling his discomfort over the arrangement by ignoring it completely and carrying on as if they haven't said anything at all.

His information is accurate, at least. "I think the first kitchen is a bit bigger, and the fourth had lovely exposure if you'd actually like to start that garden, but they all seem in order and they tick the boxes that we'd discussed," Peggy says on the way home.

Steve makes a little sound of acknowledgement, although it's so absent that it almost sounds like one of his sleeping noises. He doesn't speak for a while, and when he says, "I'm not sure that I could see us in any of them. Maybe we should keep looking," he sounds oddly tentative.

She looks over at him in the dim light. She doesn’t know what the purpose would be exactly, but she loves her husband and he has good judgment in his own way. "Certainly we can," she agrees readily.

A month later she is regretting her easy acquiescence. They have gone out with Hank Farmer twice more and seen a dozen other options in the growing suburban communities surrounding the city, and Steve has nodded through each tour, shaken Hank's hand politely, and on the way home said that he couldn't picture them in any of them. Finally Hank told them that perhaps they needed a break to recalculate what they were looking for, and even he looked exhausted, his smile just about ready to melt off his face.

Peggy tells herself that it's fine. She has a backup plan, too, and each morning she and Steve sit in their kitchen which seems increasingly tiny and circle likely listings in the paper. Once a week, they go see them in person. The novelty of shopping for such a major purchase, of getting to see inside all different homes, has long worn off for Peggy. On the way up each front walk, she thrusts her purse over her shoulder with a grimness once reserved for warfare.

And yet Steve continues to reject each house with equally flimsy logic each time: the front door of this one opened right into the kitchen, their current furniture wouldn't coordinate well with the wallpaper in that one. Once or twice, Peggy wonders dully whether he is tormenting her on purpose for some reason, but of course that’s not his nature and, anyway, he is too open for such deception. His face would show any such ridiculous thing in an instant.

Finally one Saturday morning he brings the newspaper over and starts to open it to the classified section and she snaps.

"I don't expect to find anything promising in there," she tells him tartly, buttering her toast so violently she wonders if the bread will be entirely crumbs before she is done. "We've likely seen all that's on offer at least once before, and if we haven't, you'll no doubt discount any new options with ever more minor explanations. Tell me, is there a particular reason that we haven't seen a single property where you can apparently imagine us living?"

"I know," he says, his voice softly miserable. He folds the paper and sets it on the table with that care that she admires and loves so much. She softens a bit despite herself.

"Can you at least try to explain it to me?" she asks, but he shakes his head.

"I can't even explain it to myself. All those places we've seen, they look fine. They all look nearly the same, as a matter of fact - I’m sure I'm just torturing you, making you go tour each one when if you've seen one you've seen them all. But I don't know, Peg. They just don't feel like our house." He steps away from her, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I'm going to take a walk, okay?"

He is gone for so long that she is called into the office before seeing him again. She's distracted all day, her thoughts returning to him at each open moment, always an undercurrent of wondering and worrying even as she takes care of the problems that she can.

He's made shepherd's pie, she realizes as she returns home that evening, and she softens toward him even more. She'd only mentioned once that she used to beg her mother for it at every occasion and she still considers it such a comforting dish.

He kisses her gently as she comes into the kitchen and dishes her out a portion. She starts in on it immediately - apparently worrying over one's husband builds an appetite - and it is a minute before she realizes that his still remains untouched.

Swallowing, she asks, "Did your walk help?"

"It did." He looks down at the table and then back up at her again. "I hate all the places that we've seen. They're just copies of each other, and more than that, we don’t know whether they’ll last."

"They've all been inspected," Peggy feels obligated to point out, poking a fork tine through a single pea rolling on the edge of her plate.

"I don't mean that they're going to fall to pieces tomorrow. But they haven’t been tested at all. In twenty years, in fifty, are they going to just be identical pasteboard wrecks? The place we buy is going to be where we live our lives. We're going to bring kids there, and maybe grandkids." He presses his hands together. "I want our home to be something more, Peg."

She doesn't entirely understand - all of the houses had looked fine to her, decently built if modern, not exactly what she was accustomed to from England, and an older house certainly had its own likelihood of falling to pieces or becoming a nuisance to keep patched together - but she touches his hand, closing her fingers around his and squeezing.

"We can keep looking," she says, and she finds in his smile the strength she needs to make it true.

It's not a newspaper advertisement that finally leads them to the place, but Rita Langforth from down the street who mentions that her great-uncle and -aunt are selling their house to move where it's warmer. Peggy and Steve go to look the next afternoon.

"It’s a bit small, but we never really considered leaving. We moved in here the day after we were married, all the way back in ‘06," Anna Moss tells them as she takes them through each room, a fond sadness on her face as she looks about at everything. "Joe carried me over that threshold, and carried each of our babies out for baptism after they were born upstairs."

"She weighed about the same as the babies, though she was about a thousand times prettier," Joe Moss jokes in his craggy tenor and Anna blushes and says, "Don't lie to the children, Joey."

"Are you truly certain you can part with a place like this, with so many memories?" Peggy asks gently. Anna keeps touching the solid wood doorframes, and Joe has pointed out a half dozen spots with particular imperfections or stories in a way that Peggy understands to mean that he has several hundred more to share.

"Oh, it's getting to be a little too much for us," Joe says with peaceful regret.

"We'd like to pass it on to someone who will love it as much as we have," Anna adds earnestly. She peers at Peggy through her small eyeglasses. "I would be happy to give it to the two of you."

"Steve?" Peggy looks over to where he is standing in a shaft of sunlight, taking in the place with a slightly distant look in his eyes. Until he looks at her, and he focuses, and smiles.

"I can picture us here," he says. “Can’t you?”

And although she'll never admit it, she's happy he made them keep looking, because she can picture them here in a way she couldn't entirely in the other places they had seen. There it had been the vague shadow of a Steve chopping vegetables at the counter, or a version of herself taking advantage of the fireplace: images which were almost functional, as if she were posing paper dolls or extending a measuring tape to make sure that the two of them were the right size for the interior. But here it is a whole life she can see, a vivid array of board games and reading together in this parlor, a Christmas tree which will stand in that corner, of dancing in full view of the windows for no reason at all, waving to neighbors from the front porch, of children who will bicker over who has the bedroom with the window seat and challenge each other to climb the shade tree in the front yard.

Peggy turns to the Mosses and asks, "Where can we sign?"

Three weeks later they stand in the middle of their new front hallway. Their old loveseat is already in place, as are the kitchen table and chairs, and the new bed they bought. Otherwise they are accompanied only by three suitcases and five boxes. Neither of them has been particularly accustomed to permanency or the acquisition that comes with it.

“How in the world are we to fill this place?” Peggy asks, turning this way and that with hands on her hips.

Steve rests his hands on top of hers. He kisses her until she twines her fingers with his, then pulls back and looks at her so he can say, “We already have.”

[punkscowardschampions]

Tommy & Meena

Tommy: [Late enough that the clean up is done and she could've potentially heard about some of the drama but not late enough that if there's a mcwalsh party whereby Ali gets knocked up that he wouldn't already be drunk at that feels like a starting point] Tommy: Cá mbeidh tú ag fliúchadh na seamróige? 🍀🧡💚 Meena: I was about to go down to the restaurant, just hang out there Meena: Caleb and Drew were going to some party but I was not invited so 🤷 Meena: What are you all up to? Tommy: 🍻🥃 Tommy: but the vibe's more drinking ourselves to death, doubt you want an invite either, like Meena: I think that's most people's vibe but they sound happier/more in denial about it...? Tommy: Yeah, it's casually cultural Meena: Yeah? Tommy: You're not feeling patriotic today? Meena: I don't really vibe it any day Meena: but that's not important Tommy: that's a no for the Irish dancing then, alright Meena: We can try Meena: I look even taller when I'm not allowed to move my upper body though Tommy: 😂 Meena: no leprechauns here Tommy: any 🌈💰? Meena: no more than normal 💔 Tommy: I'll be right there then 🌈✨ Meena: That's your superpower Meena: I don't know how 🍀🧡💚 Gus has gone, you'll probably feel more at 🏡 where you are Tommy: It ain't feeling very 🏡 but 💌 received Tommy: I'll stay put, feet & upper body Meena: Why not? Tommy: long story Tommy: you'll hear the short one at 🏫 probably Meena: You don't feel like telling it, understood Meena: is there anything I can do? Tommy: I don't know how to, more like Tommy: you'd redraft it before you were done with the 1st for being too Tommy: unreadable Meena: Nonsense poetry is my specialty Tommy: Yeah? Tommy: maybe you should've been there to roll out the welcome wagon for my new sister Meena: New sister? Meena: Oh, do you mean your mum's baby Meena: not baby now, from before Tommy: she definitely ain't a baby now Meena: So, she came and it went bad Meena: I'm so sorry, Tommy Meena: how bad are we talking? Tommy: bad as it gets Meena: Is your mum alright, I mean Meena: stupid question, but Tommy: It's a fair question & I wish the answer was yeah Tommy: or there was fuck all I could do Meena: That's terrible Tommy: I've gotta go back to school, how can I? Meena: For them Meena: sometimes all you can do is give everyone a small sense of normality Meena: even when you don't want to, or think you can't go on yourself Tommy: Ali can't hold down the fort all on her own, alright, she probably can, but she shouldn't have to Meena: She won't be Meena: she has Carly, and me and Ro and, loads of people, really Meena: I promise we'll all do what we can Tommy: Don't start me on Ro, she wasn't even there Meena: Where was she? Tommy: Fuck knows Tommy: I thought she might be with you Tommy: or your brother Meena: She wasn't with me Meena: maybe Drew but I doubt it, he's been out and about everywhere all day, obviously Tommy: she'll be at home then Meena: Oh, that's a bit Meena: I understand under normal circumstances the pub on St Paddy's is not her ideal place to be but as it was Meena: anyway, that's all to say, you don't need to worry about Ali, she has a good support system to support your parents and take care of Rocky Meena: do you have people YOU can talk to and lean on at school? Tommy: yeah, Carly's ace with him & Ali to have lasted this long, like Tommy: I ain't telling anyone at school about this, loads of 'em already think I'm trash Tommy: or come from it Tommy: they've got a point now Meena: No, they don't Meena: your family are some of the best people I know Meena: you're not anything to be ashamed of Tommy: Everyone around here knows that Joe would be your brother's best customer except he don't carry the right stuff & now loads of 'em also know she's as bad, nah, worse Tommy: & that together they're Tommy: I can't even fucking go there Meena: People shouldn't judge him by that, never mind you as his family Tommy: They do though Tommy: keeping my mouth shut about it at school is my best option Meena: as long as you can express yourself and have an outlet through your work, I can't say I blame you Meena: you don't have to tell everyone everything Tommy: or anything Tommy: 🩰 will do Meena: I shouldn't say anything against words, given who I am and what I want to be but Meena: a comfortable silence can be preferable to words you're unsure of, words that hurt, or that you don't want to speak into existence Tommy: Yeah, I'd take an uncomfortable silence over that too Tommy: everyone's hurting & unsure enough Meena: if it's good enough for Maya Meena: 🤐 Tommy: I didn't mean with you Meena: You can always talk to me Meena: no matter the quality or quantity of your words Meena: you know that Tommy: okay Meena: but no rush on it Meena: obviously Meena: and I won't fill the silence with total nonsense, like Tommy: but those poems are your speciality Tommy: self proclaimed, like, but still Meena: Rude to doubt me Meena: 🥬🐢🐌👑 Tommy: Gimme one then Tommy: best shot Meena Though some at my aversion smile, I cannot love the crocodile. Its conduct does not seem to me Consistent with sincerity. Meena: 🐊💔 Tommy: He is basically a 🐍 with feet Tommy: You 🖋 that? Meena: Sadly not Meena: I'll try to write something as appropriate scathing for your brother Tommy: Or as 💔 for me, yeah? Meena: Of course Meena: what could be better to cheer you up? 😏 Tommy: as a feel good goes it's obviously unrivalled even by 🍻🎵💃🕺 Tommy: that's the level of your talent Meena: You're either that drunk or you wish you were...code red either way Meena: you could come to the restaurant though, if you actually wanted Tommy: Get ahead at waiting tables for when the West End fucks me off & over Tommy: good thinking Meena: Please Meena: your name is already in lights, I can see it Meena: 🤩 Tommy: as you said please, I'll come Meena: manners maketh the man do what you want? Meena: interesting Tommy: works on this one Tommy: how much of a man I am is up for debate, usually Meena: People are idiots Meena: and too invested in stuff that doesn't affect them whatsoever Tommy: like you said, practically a local celeb at this point Meena: still, what's going on in your tights is just not their business Tommy: that's such a you way to put that Meena: I'll choose to take that as a compliment on me having a consistent voice Meena: though the alternatives are 🤔 Tommy: take as I miss you Meena: Are you back for long? Tommy: Nah, they ain't that patriotic either Tommy: I shouldn't even be here, wouldn't have been if she wasn't coming Meena: That's shittier Tommy: maybe JC is trying to keep me humble before I get too 🤩 Meena: It's Patrick that needs to make a second coming to banish your brother 🐍🐍 Tommy: he's already done that himself Meena: Oh, that was the purpose of today then? Meena: I get it Tommy: if he had one Tommy: might have just been out of his 🧠 on whatever 💊💉🥄🚬 Tommy: or worse so 😍 over her that's all that he gives a shit about besides the above Meena: Wait Meena: he's what? Tommy: you'll hear about it soon as you get back to class, they were doing it for everyone to see Tommy: her purpose given what it did to my ma Meena: Jesus Meena: that's Meena: you're right, no words Tommy: at least he one upped Fraze, I guess Meena: does make that situation seem totally run of the mill in comparison Meena: I have heard it happens Meena: when people who are related but estranged meet Meena: it's like a thing™ Meena: not that that helps you personally, obviously Tommy: Really?! Meena: [sends articles like nerd] Tommy: fucking hell Meena: It's crazy Meena: like you know there should be some strong emotional response but you kinda get it fucked up or something Meena: I don't know, science isn't my forte Tommy: nor mine, but if anyone would get those kind of wires crossed, it would have to be him Tommy: Jesus Meena: at least he didn't have a wife and kids to leave or something like some of these people Meena: it's really sad Tommy: you didn't see her though, she's like Tommy: terrifying Meena: I don't think they have to be a hottie but it probably helps in some cases Tommy: 😂 Meena: how so though? like what was she like Tommy: Alright so if they were putting a modern twist on Frankenstein's monster for the stage she could play that, but she'd need serious anger management first Tommy: electroshock wouldn't be far off, funnily enough Meena: Okay, that does sound scary Meena: even if looks can be deceiving, is the moral my own life has hit home hard, sounds like the insides matched so Tommy: It was like if you took every teenage horror story my ma has told us, scraped off the sugarcoating and then mixed that with the worst shit Fraze has ever done when he's on one, you still wouldn't come close to the mark Meena: I know the sort you mean Meena: no matter how well Drew and Caleb think they do with protecting me, I've had plenty of people approach me asking for them, messing with me Tommy: this once I'm gutted you know what I mean then Tommy: 'cause fuck that Meena: mostly it's the former and it's stupid little kids who want some weed or pills, that's just annoying but yeah Tommy: you know boxing's footwork is dead easy, I could teach you what my dad taught me Tommy: any time you want Meena: thanks Meena: at least my height would finally work in my favour, right? Meena: better reach Tommy: bigger 🎯 too remember Tommy: you have to keep your guard up to protect that face Meena: sounds like you're saying I'm 🌚 Tommy: 😮 Tommy: that's awkward Meena: *frantically googles how to shrink head* Tommy: nah, it's awkward 'cause you grew into your head ages ago & I didn't throw you a 🥳 or anything Tommy: must of happened all of a sudden or without me realising Meena: grew into it?! Meena: so I was a bobblehead before, thanks so much 😂 Tommy: only slightly Meena: I'm only slightly 💔 then Tommy: don't be, it was endearing Tommy: you were a cute kid Meena: okay 👵 Meena: no need to patronize me Meena: my head is only literally big, not metaphorically Tommy: come on, a 🍭 is a great look Meena: Better than a pea-head Tommy: or a 🍐 head like I've got Meena: it's distinguished Meena: be gutted you don't want to be a character actor Tommy: nice save, you can teach me ⚽ when we're done with 🥊 Meena: Sounds good to me Tommy: 👍 Tommy: [show up boy cos the restaurant can't be that far from the pub surely] Meena: [have a nerdy but more chill time, Gus loves everyone he's a good egg, I say you should go to this party for the drama of it all sod it] Tommy: [agreed x 2 the restaurant would have such a nice vibe when Drew and Caleb aren't there which they obviously aren't rn and then yeah we can get more messy with it] Meena: [okay so the plan, we having a lovely time (given the circumstances tonight lol) then her boyf shows up] Tommy: [I just picture her bf being so underwhelming like no offense but he'd have to be someone that Tommy didn't clock on socials so when he realises he's like oh and then dials his campness up to 1000000 being that gay BFF stereotype which she would pick up on immediately cos that's not how he is with her except when he's hiding behind it cos things are uncomfortable between them. I just imagine him raiding Ali & Carly's makeup and wardrobe and making the gayest cocktails he can and getting Meena involved and stealing her attention] Meena: [he wouldn't be and he's also lowkey an arsehole as per her type so he wouldn't be all ❤ on her socials anyway, but all this can be a thing 'cos not seeing the gay boy as a threat and probably wants to get drunk so] Tommy: [don't beat him up Tommy you don't want her to think you're doing it for Drew and Caleb like reasons] Meena: [at least we know you two are distracted] Tommy: [thanks for also getting Carly and Ali involved in your gay antics because we all need whatever fun we can get] Meena: [until you gotta go pregnant Ali] Tommy: [lord, I hope Tommy has left by then] Meena: [lordt] Tommy: [casual 3way with your missus and the less attractive drug dealer in town] Meena: [thank god your genetics are solid underneath that mess boy] Tommy: [and we know Rio looks like Ali anyways] Meena: [you do alright out of it kids] Tommy: [it could be so much worse] Meena: [blame your dad for your insecurities grace] Tommy: [and your evil nan] Meena: [junie is just #unique like no one looking like you boy, the closest is fraze as your uncle] Tommy: [unless he looks like Caleb's dad because we don't know him] Meena: [who can say baby] Tommy: [anyway take a moment to appreciate all the Tommy and Meena dancing everyone, giving you that for free] Meena: [love that] Tommy: [soz shit bf he is a threat because their chemistry especially when they are dancing is ridiculous goodbye] Meena: [deffo gonna get mardy at that and go off to have an argument] Tommy: [are you happy now Thomas? Thought not] Meena: [awkwarddd] Tommy: [get drunker boy that'll totally make it better and not worse] Meena: [cry in the bathroom that's a mood] Tommy: [ruin your make up, oh babe] Meena: [everyone else is so wrecked you'll fit in] Tommy: [by not doing drugs you're one of the least messy] Meena: [exactly dr phil] Meena: [the next day] Meena: Have a safe flight back Tommy: Cheers, I'll probably just 💤 Meena: Can't blame you Tommy: did you get any? Meena: Yeah, I'm fine Meena: had to get up early to clean the restaurant though so not as much as I'd ideally want Tommy: had another 🌱🍏🍈🥬🌿🍐🥝🥒🌼 juice, yeah? Tommy: that's pretty patriotic, you know Tommy: better late than never, like Tommy: throw 🍊🍑🥕 in there too & you're sorted Meena: Yeah, I bet EVERYONE in this fair nation is starting a juice cleanse this AM, not having a fry-up, nah Tommy: 😏 Tommy: green eggs & ham would keep you in theme Meena: 🤢 Tommy: fair 🍳🥞🧇🥓🥐🥯🍞 then Tommy: take your pick Meena: are you gonna post it to me? Tommy: be messy if you're having 🍳 or 🥞 but saves me having to use any words Meena: Probably best to stick to non-perishables Meena: best option for us both, like Tommy: Yeah Meena: How was it, this morning Meena: before you left Tommy: how you'd expect Meena: Yeah Tommy: Bea has to leave too so Fraze's dramatics will take centre stage for a sec but Meena: Distraction is probably the best technique for right now Tommy: worked last night Meena: I bet the parties you have in London are even better Tommy: only 'cause we 🩰 ain't supposed to be partying Meena: and what's more fun than prohibition, sure Tommy: forbidden 🍏🍎🍐🍊🍋🍌🍉🍇🍓🍈🍒🍑🥭🍍🥥🥝 juice is my fave, can't lie Meena: 🙄😏 Meena: enjoy Tommy: you're not supposed to give me your blessing, sucks the fun right out Tommy: forbidden, remember Meena: I'm not a teacher Tommy: yeah you are, whenever Anne needs you Meena: Okay, smartypants Meena: there's nothing I could teach YOU Tommy: not with THAT attitude Meena: 🤨 maybe next time Meena: bring your own 🩰 Tommy: & 🥊 Meena: a look Tommy: the 🩳 are too Meena: what do you wear on your top half though Meena: leotard? Tommy: lads don't usually wear anything to show off 💪 Meena: Who are you showing off to? Tommy: The other lad of course, name a sport that ain't homoerotic Meena: not when you come back here Tommy: when I come back here most of all Meena: no boys in my classes Tommy: Anne's been a letdown from the very beginning, what can I say? Tommy: you're on your own, Meeps Meena: I'll survive Tommy: I know

[justlookfrightened]

Locked out, Jack leaves Eric at Samwell

This is the last installment. It takes place about two weeks after the end of Locked Out.

Jack looked at the two new Falconers sweaters hanging in Eric’s closet, one blue, one white, each emblazoned with a number one and “Zimmermann” emblazoned across the shoulders.

He thought about autographing them, signing his name on the ones running up the back, but decided it might be too much. Eric might feel like he was marking his territory, or something like that.

Had Tater signed the sweater he gave Eric? Jack honestly hadn’t looked, but he thought not.

Besides, if Eric did want them signed, Jack could oblige any time. He could sign them while Eric was wearing them, even. Eric would have to bend over to give Jack a flat surface to write on, and … and that train of thought wouldn’t help him leave.

Jack had put his actual departure off for as long as possible. This time, leaving Eric in the Haus felt more significant. Not final -- never that -- but practices were already in full swing, classes started this week, and training camp for Jack started the week after.

Jack had been ramping up his conditioning for the two weeks since Eric moved back to Samwell, but they’d still managed to see each other every couple of days, and stay together overnight a couple of times a week.

Jack had been traveling to Samwell almost as much as Eric came to Providence, since Eric’s obligations had already started and Jack was at loose ends. But that would end soon, and then Jack would start going on roadies, and Eric would have his own game schedule, and projects and exams and study groups and things Jack probably never thought of. College suddenly seemed like a lot of work.

Once, when it seemed unlikely that Jack would be able to reenter the draft, he’d thought about going to college instead. To him, it seemed like a cop out, taking the easy path towards a bleak future.

The semester hadn’t started yet, and Jack had more respect for college athletes than he ever had before.

But it was good. Eric would be just as busy during the season as he was. He didn’t want to think Eric wouldn’t miss him; Jack was certain that he would miss Eric like he’d miss a limb. But maybe not when he was on the ice during a game.

He hoped Eric had lots of moments like that, when he was so absorbed in what he was doing that it wouldn’t hurt so much for Jack not to be there.

Jack picked up the envelope he’d left on Eric’s desk and headed down the kitchen, where Eric said he was packing up the latest batch of protein cookies. Jack was pretty sure there would also be some fresh bread and some of the jam Eric made last week, and the blueberry pie Eric had put aside instead of serving at dinner. The pie, he knew, was for Tater.

He passed someone on the stairs -- Ollie or Wicks? He still couldn’t tell -- and nodded at the grunted greeting.

When he reached the kitchen, he saw the box Eric had put together.

“You are coming down on Wednesday to work, right?” Jack said. “You don’t have to send food to cover the next month.”

“Yes,” Eric said. “But there’s a class I want to shop in the morning, so I won’t be there until about eleven. I won’t be free until four, and I have to come back that night to make it to practice in the morning.”

“I know,” Jack said. “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Can we order takeout and stay in?” Eric countered.

“Whatever you want,” Jack said. “There’s something I want to show you before I go. I got something -- well, kind of for you, but I’m going to hold onto it for now.”

He pulled the envelope from his pocket. The corners were already crumpled, and it was clearly folded around something small and solid.

Eric was staring at it, eyes wide. His expression was -- confusing. Hopeful, maybe, but also scared? Now Jack was confused.

“That’s not -- you didn’t --” Eric said. “I can’t accept --”

“Accept what?” Jack said, unfolding the flap of the envelope and tipping a car key with a black plastic fob into his palm. “I told you I was going to hold onto it.”

“A key?” Eric said, breathing out a gusty breath.

“A duplicate,” Jack said. “For your car. I know Lardo gave you an extra, but you should have that here. But it won’t be very convenient if something happens when you’re in Providence.”

“Something like I lock the keys in the car again?” Eric said.

Jack shrugged.

“I thought of that myself, but getting an extra transponder key is like $200,” Eric said.

“I know,” Jack said. “But like I said, I’m not giving it to you. I’m holding it for you. I copied down the VIN when we went to register the car. That way you can have one here and one there.”

“Thanks,” Eric said, an almost sad smile on his face. “I guess it’ll be harder than I thought going back and forth. Like I can have plenty of underwear and T-shirts so I have some in both places, but things like the jersey you gave me. I guess it makes more sense to leave that in Providence, though, so I can wear it to games.”

“If you say so,” Jack said. “I should get going.”

Eric smile was watery now, when he hugged Jack close and raised his face for a kiss goodbye.

“Okay,” he said. “I love you, sweet pea. See you Wednesday.”

“Love you too,” Jack said. “See you Wednesday, bud.”

[nadiafm]

                               𝓷𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓪 𝓹𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓶𝓪 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓮𝔃 

intermediate  family

nadia’s family has grown in the past few years , but she only considers her mother and sister to be her true family .

father : SANTIAGO  is a fifty year old contractor in san diego , california . he left paloma , nadia , and catalina nine years ago after fleeing the failing marriage , and did not put forth much effort in maintaining a relationship with his kids .

mother : PALOMA  is a forty - nine year old middle school school teacher in aventura , florida . she tends to drink a little bit too much wine , takes anti-anxiety medication every morning and night , and has given up on love totally & completely . except for the men she occasionally brings home , but cat and nadia don’t really talk about that . 

little sister : CATALINA “ CAT ”  is fourteen and a freshman in high school in aventura , florida . cat has always felt like she was in nadia’s shadow , like both their parents favored nadia over her , and while nadia was bitten by the love bug , cat takes after her mother in that she has no interest in falling in love with anybody , lest she end up like her mother . she was never as close to her father , and though she does suffer from some major abandonment issues , she doesn’t necessarily miss him . 

“ step mother ” : DANIELLE , whom nadia has only met once , is a thirty-seven year old stay - at - home - mom in san diego , california . she does not approve of nadia at all , and is part of the reason that a wedge was driven between nadia & her father the only summer that nadia went to visit ( unbeknownst to nadia ) .

half brother : HUNTER is a seven - year - old twin who is equally parts devil and demon . his parents have signed him up for every sport in the book in hopes he releases his energy & aggressions in practice instead of on his sister . nadia hasn’t seen him since he was an infant .

half sister : ESTEFANIA “ ESTEF ” is a seven - year - old twin who wears pink frilly dresses and loves horses . only listens to taylor swift and will throw a tantrum if anyone plays anything else in her presence . nadia hasn’t seen her since she was an infant .

half sister : CELENE  is a four - year - old that nadia has never met , nor has any interest in doing so .

hometown  & family  home

in comparison to a lot of her classmates, nadia is not rich . but that isn’t to say her family is poor by any means . they live in an upper class community and have a house by the beach — her father was a contractor , and developed a lot of homes in miami while he still lived in florida . her mother , a middle school teacher , made a decent living . so it’s not as though nadia had a deprived , poor childhood , she just didn’t necessarily own a closet full of designer clothes and the newest iphone in her pocket . 

aventura is famous for their shopping mall , which is the third largest in the us . it was the place to hang out in high school , and nadia spent a lot of her time there growing up . it is also home to turnberry isle miami , which is a well known resort in the area . many of nadia’s teenage memories involve sneaking into the resort and finding their way into guest - only amenities like the pool and spa . 

nadia has lived in the same house her entire life . a cozy , two bedroom , one story home in the suburbs of aventure , florida , about a twenty minute drive from miami without traffic . the home was the first house her parents bought together , back when they were still in love . still , the home holds a lot of sentimental value for nadia , and she loves it with her whole heart . she always looks forward to going home . 

car

nadia got her learner’s permit as soon as she turned fifteen , and her license on her sixteenth birthday . still , that just meant driving her mom’s car when her mom wasn’t using it . 

on her eighteenth birthday , during the summer after her senior year of high school , she was given her very first car as a birthday gift ( the car she and her then - boyfriend ethan would use to drive to hollingsworth together ) . a used , 2013 2 door jeep wrangler sport , her pride and joy . she named her danger , and drives it to hollingsworth every fall , driving it back home to miami every summer . the car has its roof and doors off all summer long .

room ( society  house  )  

nadia lives in the zeta house , and admittedly her room can get pretty messy . still , it’s one of her favorite spots to spend down time . her walls are decorated with pictures of her favorite memories ( she’s been carrying around disposable cameras the past two years , which has accrued quite a few photos for the wall ) , her bed is stacked high with throw pillows , and her desk is covered in papers and pens and post it-s . 

favorite  spot  on  campus  

nadia’s favorite spot on campus is the quad , because she loves to people watch . every student walks through at some point in the day , heading to class or heading home , and she could sit up against a tree with her airpods in watching people walk by for hours .  

pet

when nadia was seven , her birthday gift was a large box with holes in it . she thought it was a pony . but when she ripped back the wrapping paper , it was the most beautiful , fluffy little long haired german shepherd . she named her honey . honey was hers , not the family dog , hers . she slept in nadia’s room , snuggled up in bed with her every night . when her parents would yell at her , honey would bark her head off until they stopped . 

when honey was twelve , she started showing signs of old age . she died the following year . nadia was nineteen at the time , a sophomore at hollingsworth , and she was distraught for days . she even went home for the weekend and laid cuddled up in bed crying . that week , she went and got a tattoo of her face , in THIS sort of fashion . 

most  valued  possession

nadia’s most valued possesssion is the lionel messi jersey her father gave her when she was twelve . it was the last gift he gave her before leaving , and seeing as nadia is a loud and proud argentine , she loves it dearly . it doesn’t fit well anymore , unless she wears is as a sort of tight crop top , and she has plenty of other argentina soccer jerseys to wear on game day , but that specific one will always be the most important to her . 

best  friends

growing up , nadia’s number one best friend was josie . they were , and still are , two peas in a pod . they met in seventh grade when they were both crushing on the same boy , and through that , a friendship formed . josie decided to go to school in california , where she’d always dreamed of going , and where nadia had once dreamed of with her . she was the only one who had advised nadia not to follow ethan to hollingsworth , but of course she didn’t listen , and might regret not going to ucla with josie , but mostly she’s happy she picked hollingsworth . after all , it just means she gets to visit ucla sometimes . 

at hollingsworth , nadia considers dash & lux her best friends , the one she can count on to be there , and not judge her . ever . which means a lot ! considering she does a lot of things worth judging . 

first  love

like actually in love with or ? fksjghsjhg

ok a little bit nsfw , also trigger warnings : underage sex , slut shaming 

the first time nadia felt what she thought was love was freshman year of high school . mother fucking connor perch . he was actually really sweet to her at first , they met after being assigned desks next to each other in freshman year biology , though neither of the were very interested in the subject . ANYWAY , connor was on the basketball team , and you know nadia is a sucker for student athletes , so she had a crush right away , and by october of their freshman year they were dating . they were only fourteen , so to be fair they didn’t do much . it was mostly holding hands and chaste kisses in the hallway and sitting on his lap at lunch and things like that ! but mans was trying to lose his virginity . ( nadia’s first time had been in a car with a boy she barely knew that summer before high school , but he didn’t know that , and of course she didn’t tell him ) . 

anyway , she was madly in love with him , or so she thought at fourteen . she was like ... this is going to last forever ! and he knew about her dad and all , was always very sympathetic , always doing things like leaving flowers in her locker and love notes in her pockets . he was really sweet ok ! can ya blame a hopeless romantic for falling in love ! 

it was june , just a few days after school let out for summer , when nadia agreed to give him a blowjob . in the middle of it , when she looked up , he had his phone out and was recording . and nadia being nadia , she didn’t stop . she literally finished giving him a blowjob and it was only after , when they were sitting in her bed , that she gently asked him why he recorded that , and if he’d delete it . he said it was for himself , for him to look back on when he was at home alone . but it was only about a week later that nadia started getting texts from other boys at her school , asking things like how much she charged and if there was a summer vacation discount . and girls were posting things on formspring ( remember formspring ? lmao . ) calling her a slut and an attention seeker and god knows what else , and when she confronted connor about it he broke up with her , saying she was needy and clingy and if she didn’t want to be labeled as a slut why did she go down on people ! safe to say that was her least favorite summer ever . maybe second now , to the summer after she and rowan broke up . 

favorite  outfit

nadia’s go to outfit is a mini dress with sneakers . it’s literally all she wears !! spring ? autumn ? toss on a cardigan on top . winter ? add her favorite furry jacket . but she always out here showing off her legs , her tits , her ass . like her mama always said , if you got it , flaunt it , baby !! we love you mama paloma 

[her-culture]

Where to Go in London and Why You Should Travel There Now

I am studying abroad in London this summer, and, while I am taking courses to fulfill my journalism major, I also have the great opportunity to explore the city and get accumulated with the place I’m calling home for the season.

London is a safe city. It is the United Kingdom’s capital as well as the most famous city, with over 8 million inhabitants. With all of these daunting stats, it still has a low risk safety index, according to Geo Blue.

I have scoped out the city with my roommates and friends in the program, and we have some great recommendations for your next travels.

Food

Queen’s Head - Located in Piccadilly Circus (the Times Square of London), Queen’s Head is a local pub that offers a great variety of traditionally British foods. I loved the fish and chips here, as even the mushy peas had flavor and texture. It’s a great place to just hang out with friends and grab a bite.

Little India - According to TripAdvisor, this is the best place in London for Indian food, and the country is known for this cuisine. Mr. Kay (who is famous on TripAdvisor) was our waiter, and he recommended different dishes based on spiciness preferences. It was so delicious.

Ceru - This tapas restaurant is really chill and modern style. Try a diversity of dishes with your friends. The food is great, and the ambiance is quaint but fancy. It’s a nice place for a quick bite but also for an intimate meal.

Waterstones - This place is super cute. It’s part cafe and part bookstore. Do your homework here, grab a coffee, and chill within the shelves of books. I felt like home at this place, and it’s right by my internship in London so I will definitely be returning often.

Duck and Waffle - This restaurant is a bit on the pricey side, but the view over the heart of the city is to die for. The dishes are traditional British with a twist. You can also share the plates here.

Muriel’s Kitchen - This is great for brunches! It’s a lively British bistro, offering a bit more pricey dishes, but they have it all--healthy, hearty, and delicious. Everything looks great. Try out the pancakes or banana bread. The ingredients are all locally sourced. 

Going Out

Ballie Ballerson - Bring out your inner kid again with this awesome bar and ball pit place. You reserve tickets for two hour slots that includes all access to food and drinks. It’s so much fun and right in Shoreditch so after you can head over to some great food places or if you want more partying there’s plenty of choices.

Box Park - This is a great place in Shoreditch. It offers both food and drinks, and there’s a lot of variety. It’s an outdoor place but there are covered areas so you won’t be cold at night. Shoreditch is better known for people in their 20s, as it’s full of art and graffiti, so you won’t feel out of place.

The Slug - This is more for students that go to Imperial College or are part of the Boston University programs. The music is a lot of throwbacks. There are a lot of really young people here, as the ambiance is more student-centric.

The Roxy - If The Slug has throwbacks, The Roxy has even more. Save your money and go before 10 for free and then at 10 on a Thursday it’s half priced pitchers. It gets crowded within the hour and is a lot of fun.

White Ferry Victoria - Pub quizzes are a big thing in London. They’re practically offered every day somewhere. White Ferry Victoria is fun, even though most teams are a bit older. They offer housemade pizzas too, which are delicious, and the trivia is fun even if you’re guessing. The money to enter (£1 a person) goes to charity.

Exploring

Borough Market - This is one of the largest and oldest markets in London. Today, the market mostly sells specialty items and foods to the public. There are also often events there, like the annual pizza tasting festival.

All of the museums - You can enter museums in London for free. It’s pretty awesome. There are certain exhibits you may need to pay for, but if it’s a subject you’re interested in, it’s worth it. I highly recommend the Design Museum. I loved seeing all the graphic designs. The Science Museum is interesting as well as the Tate and the British Museum.

Abbey Road - You have to live like the Beatles for at least a minute while you’re in London. Dress up! Be Paul, George, Ringo, or John. Have fun and laugh at the other tourists too.

Soho - This is a really cool area. As soon as you’re out of the tube stop, you walk across a bridge and enter the area near the London Eye. There’s a big fair in the summer that is ongoing and has performances that vary each day. There’s some great places to also eat around here. It’s right by the Thames so it’s a nice walk too.

Hyde Park - It’s such a pretty park! You could run around it or just go for a stroll with friends. Take a book or work even and just sit and enjoy the place. There’s also a paddling pool if you’d like to take a quick swim.

Kensington Palace - Go back into the past and learn about the monarchy and its long-lasting impact on British life. The current exhibits are on Queen Victoria, Diana’s outfit designs, and the King’s State Apartments.

As amazing as London is and all the great opportunity it offers, I would also recommend traveling outside the city to the outskirts like Brighton as well as out of the country to places like Edinburgh and Paris.

Safe travels!

[hvndcvffed]

s u r v e y  :    g r i z z    v i s s e r .

he slides it into the submission box late, because he kept lending people his only pen. whoops.

basic information

FULL NAME: gareth paul visser PRONUNCIATION: GAH-reth VISS-er MEANING: gentle. REASONING: his parents named their son after the most important trait they wanted to nurture in him: kindness. his middle name is paul after his paternal grandfather. NICKNAME(S): gareth paul ( only his mother, when she’s angry ), grizz, grizzy, grizzly bear / grizzy bear ( parents ), kiddo ( his dad ) visser, bear ( blue ),  jizz ( unwarranted, miles ), babe ( tess, retired ) PREFERRED NAME(S): grizz. don’t call him gareth, please. he’ll just... smile uncomfortably and act like it doesn’t bother him, but it really does. BIRTH DATE: july 26, 2000. 3:23am. during a rainstorm. AGE: 18. ZODIAC: leo. GENDER: cismale. PRONOUNS:  he/him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: demiromantic ( sexual attraction stems from emotional connection. ) SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  homosexual ( closeted ) NATIONALITY: american. ETHNICITY: american very far back. dutch and polish ancestry.

background

BIRTH PLACE: west ham, connecticut. HOMETOWN: west ham, connecticut. SOCIAL CLASS: upper. FATHER: keith visser. one of the lead police detectives on west ham’s police force. 48. jewish. avid outdoorsman, and can often be found hiking, kayaking, or rock climbing on the weekends. has a habit of cleaning off lisa & grizz’s plates, if they leave behind some peas or mashed potatoes. snacks on leftovers for breakfast, but can make a mean frittata. the secret’s all in making sure you’ve got a super hot pan. cautious, mindful. grizz gets a lot of his serene disposition from his father. unaware of his son’s sexuality; still thinks he’ll wind up marrying tess, or maybe hannah, or even cassandra. gets a kick out of becca when she comes around the house, because she’s so little. calls her shortstack, but only when pancakes are around to make the pun stick. MOTHER: lisa “lees” visser. 46. editor-in-chief for the west ham chronicle. freelance landscaper / gardener on the weekends, for fulfillment more than the money. religious, catholic born-and-raised, but she now attends the unitarian church in town. the switch happened once she married keith and they reasoned they wanted their child to have a composite world-view, one they could interpret and internalize free from categorical restraint. very in touch with her emotions; likes facilitating family discussions. made the executive decision to pull grizz out of dance classes after one year of lessons, because her 4-year-old son donned a sparkly feather boa and she didn’t like what she saw. primarily motivated by maternal and protective instinct. wants what’s best for her son: safety. supported grizz’s relationship with tess through and through. mentions her from time to time, because she’s still unclear as to why they called it off. she wants grizz to be happy. tess made him happy. SIBLING(S): none. his parents never told him, but they lost a child in infancy about 2 years before they had him, and suffered a miscarriage when they tried for another child when he was 5. his parents don’t talk about it, and they see their lives as very full with just grizz. they considered adopting when he was around 8, but ultimately decided against it. one child fills their hearts plenty. they’ve practically adopted all his friends ( especially blue, becca, hannah, and tess ) as part of the family anyway. BIRTH ORDER: only child. PET(S): grew up with a tabby cat, doobie, who lived to be 14. as a kid, he always dreamed about having a pet kimodo dragon. gets a real kick out of chinchillas, but the visser family’s rarely home: they’re always out and about, going on hikes, exploring connecticut and the northeast. they travel often. so it wouldn’t be fair, having to leave any pet at home alone. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: his uncle james lives on the edge of town and works under peyton pellegrino’s dad in the fire department, so the families are close. they get together each year for christmas eve. his younger cousins live down by the sea in mystic, kipp ( age 4 ) & rebekah ( age 7 ). they facetime often, and the family makes annual trips to mystic seaport. they pile onto grizz’s back and have a blast running around the docks. PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: tess de luca ( freshman year - end of junior year ). ARRESTS?: none. but he does make frequent trips to the station to drop food off for his dad and his buds. PRISON TIME?: not unless you count the one time his dad played an april fools’ joke on him and placed him in a jail cell for 10 minutes for, “ bringing the wrong flavor cookies. the biggest crime of ‘em all, kiddo. ”

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: he works as a summer camp counselor at an adventure camp during school intersession, leading hikes & nature trips. during the school year, he’s too tied up with football to hold a job. he’s grateful that his parents are willing to help him out for major expenses, but he’s definitely the saving type, so most things he can cover on his own. he helps his neighbors out with taking care of pets & gardens as needed, so that’s a way to earn some fast cash. even though he always insists he can’t take their money. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yes! granted, working with phone-addicted kids in the wilderness can be difficult, but he’s thankful to get the breather from west ham. PAST JOB(S): he used to deliver papers on his bike, when he was younger, since his mom had the connection. SPENDING HABITS: frugal. more likely to spend on experience than material. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: his dad’s collection of original-release vinyls by the beatles.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: writing, but he won’t admit it. football. wood-whittling. gardening. whistling. navigation. knot-tying. making sumptuous drip coffee. SHORTCOMINGS: sells himself short, a lot. his sexuality. can be impatient at times, when other people are slower to pick things up. will often take over getting something done ( i.e. a group project ) if he feels people aren’t doing it the most effective way. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, french. a tad of latin. he wants to learn more hebrew, especially since he’s from a blended household, but that shit’s difficult and he never had time to enroll in hebrew school full-time as a kid. DRIVE?: yes. he has his own car, for ease of getting to/from games, etc. but prefers to ride his bike around town. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. his dad taught him how when they had to call aaa on their way home from hiking the adirondacks, a trip they gave him for his twelfth birthday. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes. he goes everywhere on that thing. need a ride? hop on. SWIM?: yes. the visser household has a very nice in-ground pool, heated. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: not really. grizz appreciates music and loves listening to it, but never really learned how to make it himself. unless you count a year or two of required band in elementary school, during which he ( very badly ) played the clarinet. PLAY CHESS?: yeah. he played a lot with his maternal grandfather growing up. big glasses of chocolate milk, classic rock, and chess. BRAID HAIR?: yes. it’s all very simple, once you learn how to tie all the scouting knots. TIE A TIE?: so many. thank you, boy scouts of america. PICK A LOCK?: he’s read up on it, but never actually done it. the closest he’s gotten is cutting his own padlock off his camping locker during his 7th grade boy scouting trip to maryland, when he conveniently forgot the combination.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: jack mulhern. EYE COLOR: hazel, a murky blend of gold and forest green. depending on the lighting, they look different: in bright sunlight, they look like a faded jade green. sometimes, when the room’s darker, they look more gold. reference.  HAIR COLOR: deep, russet brown.  HAIR TYPE/STYLE: jaw-length, straight with some wave to it. typically worn down, tucked behind one ear, or up in a tiny little man-bun. reference one. reference two. reference three. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: he’s blessed with 20/20 vision! but he’ll still try on your glasses, if it’ll make you laugh. there’s a photo of him on the visser fridge wearing his mom’s readers and holding a tray of fresh-baked cookies. he looks like a friendly neighborhood grandma. DOMINANT HAND: left-handed. but he’s worked for years to become ambidextrous for most tasks. he can’t brush his teeth with his right hand, though. it feels funny. HEIGHT: 6′2. WEIGHT: 158 lbs. BUILD: broad-shouldered. lean waist. chiseled core, strong legs. he’s got an athlete’s build for sure – he’s perhaps not as heavy as other guys on that football field, but it takes some serious force to knock him down. tall. but he kind of hunches, just slightly, to not take up so much space. EXERCISE HABITS: varsity football team. lots of morning and night runs. crunches, push-ups, pull-ups: he’s got one of those bars in his doorway. weight-lifting with the team. yoga, sometimes. SKIN TONE: light, but he spends a lot of time outdoors. no freckles. TATTOOS: none. but would love to get a walden quote, or a simple pine tree. someday. PEIRCINGS: none. but maybe once he gets to college he’ll get his ear pierced. MARKS/SCARS: some miscellaneous scars on his hands from whittling incidents growing up. a faint line across his arm from stitches, when he broke it in the peewee football league in fifth grade. he has a barely-there scar just to the right of his left ear, along his hairline, from a camping incident. NOTABLE FEATURES: his hair. his eyes. people have drunkenly said he’s got kissable lips. USUAL EXPRESSION: inquisitive, collected. he’s always thinking. CLOTHING STYLE: letterman jacket. jeans. tall socks, boots. pants tucked into socks, because why the hell not? flannels, hoodies, utility jackets layered over plain white tees. pendant necklaces, leather bracelets. occasionally he’ll wear a statement button-downs that looks like your grandmother’s upholstery, but somehow it’ll work really well. varsity t-shirts. hats of all varieties. if he could, he’d showcase some edgier styles. but he’s paranoid. he’s got a stanford hoodie buried in his closet. and a yale one, too. JEWELRY: leather bracelets. a silver ring strung on a chain, engraved with “ for sylvie, with love ”. he found it on a hike, and… figured he’d be sylvie for a day, or something like that. ALLERGIES: sulfur-based antibiotics. bullshit. idiocy. BODY TEMPERATURE: runs hotter than most. probably the first to offer you his jacket or sweater, if you look cold. DIET: grizz’s mom loves to cook, so they’re always trying some new paleo trend. some of it’s awful. but he’ll try to eat it and if he can’t, he’ll sneak a granola bar later. he’s bad at pretending disgusting shit tastes good. his nose will wriggle up involuntarily and he’ll sniffle. if the school’s serving smiley face fries, he’ll have those. he really likes green apples and those little clementines. cajun fries are some of the best things ever invented. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: nope. he’s quite able-bodied and he’ll use it as a way to take the burden off of his parents. grizz knows how to do most things around the house: fix a faucet, replace bulbs, work on pipes, etc. because his parents are getting older and he doesn’t want them to hurt themselves doing something he’d barely even break a sweat at. he’s always volunteering to help out his neighbors with heavy packages, retrieving their mail, tending their gardens, etc. it’s no hassle. so why not?

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good. he’s all for what’s morally right. sometimes laws and rules leave that out. TEMPERAMENT: melancholic. ( analytical, wise, peaceful. ) ELEMENT: water. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: mild insomnia, sometimes. but he’ll usually just throw on some music and yield to it. guzzle a few redbulls the next day to keep alert for practice. SOCIABILITY: grizz is never the type to turn anyone away, but he does have a fear of compromising his one secret: so... if someone shows signs of seeing through him? he might distance himself a bit. but he’s often compared to glue that binds. he has a real capacity for leadership ( though he’ll never see himself that way ), and tends to be the driving force in maintaining healthy friendships and friend groups. he looks out for his friends. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: very stable. which is why when things go awry and he can’t rationalize his feelings, he gets... scared. vulnerable. PHOBIA(S): irrelevancy. being outed. loss. ADDICTION(S): good literature. DRUG USE: marijuana, but that’s it. ALCOHOL USE: what you’d expect from a popular jock. though he hesitates to think of himself as just a jock, because there’s so much more to his life than just football. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no. grizz doesn’t believe in using violence to manipulate or express emotion. but he will punch someone if there’s no other way.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: rarely settles his gaze on anything for more than a few seconds, except for other peoples’ eyes. eye contact is probably one of grizz’s biggest conversational strengths. probably why he makes such a good liar, when he needs to. he’ll finish a pint of ice cream and just sit there for over an hour sucking on the spoon, lost in thought. licks his lips when he’s nervous. plays with his hair a lot. you know he’s anxious when he keeps tucking his hair behind his right ear. chuckles to himself, even when things are the pure opposite of funny. laughs quietly so the skies have to lean in to hear it. dog-ears pages of books; stencils in his thoughts. his bookshelf is a catalogue of interiority: so if he lets you borrow any of his well-loved copies ( becca, cassandra, tess ), you know you’ve got his trust. burns marshmallows, but it always seems like he’s waiting for the perfect brown before he lets the thing catch fire. sneaks peanut m&m’s into the house because his mom’s on another big health kick; he munches on them in the basement theater with his dad, mischief aplenty. stole HOBBIES: jotting notes in book margins. he dabbles in poetry but feels like his shit is too beat-generation to be that cool. wandering through the woods and attempting to generate his own maps, then checking them for accuracy. lighting matches in the cold, mid-evening air just to watch them burn. watching minimalist apartment tour videos. whispering poetry out loud to himself with his eyes closed, to feel the words shape his lips. HABITS: standing in front of the mirror and trying to let the word gay escape his lips without panic setting in. asking others how they are instead of answering when it’s asked of him. when he goes to bed later than his parents, he’ll peek in their doorway to make sure they’ve gotten into bed safe. setting up the french press before he leaves for his morning runs, so coffee’s ready for his parents when they wake up. bringing donuts to the station, just to make his dad’s coworkers laugh. getting drunk and tossing finger guns around like free candies. NERVOUS TICKS: pursing his lips. biting the inside of his cheek. rocking back and forth on his heels. avoiding eye contact. growing quieter than usual. choppy focus. leaving text messages unanswered for days on end. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: make it to graduation and get out of west ham. live this lie a little longer. protect his friends. nurture his family. make sure his dad eats: he tends to forget, when he’s on duty. look after his teammates. keep everyone else grounded. FEARS: time. losing his family: too many people in this town have experienced that kind of loss for him to indulge in the illusion that he doesn’t run that risk. cassandra’s health might decline. when he comes out in college, people from home might hear. people might hate him. blue’s not really okay, and there’s nothing he can do about it. becca’s having a hard time, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. does he really think sam eliot could ever like him back? what if he made a mistake, breaking it off with tess? what if he doesn’t know himself as well as he used to? he’ll experience firsthand death someday. he’ll lose people, too. he’s so used to picking up everyone else’s pieces. how’s he supposed to do that if he’s the one bleeding? what if he can’t help people as much as they need him to? will his parents hate him for lying about yale? will they hate him for giving up on football to pursue literature & philosophy? fear. that one’s ironic. POSITIVE TRAITS: charismatic, introspective, pacific, quick-witted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: self-contained, reckless ( with himself ), careless ( with himself ). SENSE OF HUMOR: dry, witty. facetious, but never ill-intended. lots of eye rolls and light laughs. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: ask his parents, they’ll say no. but hell yeah. CATCHPHRASE(S): uno. dos. tres.  & a bonus: “ what the fuck ? ” & “ i’m surrounded by idiots. ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: reading. writing. gardening. football. ANIMAL: fish. they’re so graceful and they don’t bother anybody. BEVERAGE: half-oreo half-chocolate milkshake. extra whipped cream. two cherries. please. BOOK: le petit prince by antoine de saint-exupéry. it was the last book his grandmother ever read to him, on his fifth christmas eve. he can recite the first and last lines by heart, in english and french. CELEBRITY: young johnny depp. emma watson. COLOR: a nice, deep forest green. he also likes burnt reds and browns. DESIGNER: i mean... he knows his way around adobe creative cloud? FOOD: cajun curly fries. ugh. FLOWER: there’s something really beautiful about forget-me-nots. his grandmother used to pick a few of them with him in her backyard. she was big on those kinds of things. and all those silly sayings like: tickle tickle on the knee. if you laugh, you don’t love me! grizz always faught so hard not to laugh. his toddler self would puff out his cheeks and hold his breath until the twenty-second window was up. GEM: any kind of geode. HOLIDAY: halloween. boo. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: biking! MOVIE: mr. nobody. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. the first time little grizz saw alice in wonderland, he wouldn’t shut up about it for two weeks MUSICAL ARTIST: the divine comedy, radiohead, pink floyd, the beatles, the rolling stones, the kooks. the avett brothers. belle & sebastian. he envies bowie, prince, and mercury for like... living their truths. QUOTE/SAYING: “ if you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. ” SCENERY: mountain ranges. the view from the top of difficult climbs. snow-dusted treetops. SCENT: the connecticut homesick candle. it smells like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla and fireside bliss. and pine trees. yum. SPORT: football. SPORTS TEAM: “ centurions on me! centurions on three! ” TELEVISION SHOW: he grew up watching wallace and gromit. he’s still got a soft spot for it. he also really likes travel channel specials. WEATHER: gentle rain. VACATION DESTINATION: he doesn’t know this, but his parents were planning a month-long backpacking trip through new zealand as his grad gift.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: live his truth, fearlessly. get to yale and just... be himself. whatever that means. GREATEST FEAR: people in west ham will find him out. he’s not ready. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he’s with tess. the visser family has relaxed nights in, or firepits in their backyard. when he’s neck-deep in a good book. reading dickinson. listening to the beatles. on the field, where none of his demons can touch him. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: people ask difficult questions, questions he doesn’t have the answer to. you’re gay, aren’t you? BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: his boy scout eagle scout award. he constructed and taught faculty how to maintain a sustainable farm-to-table garden at each of west ham’s three elementary schools. BIGGEST REGRET: not getting to know his grandmother more before she passed. not... telling blue the truth. telling himself the truth. breaking up with tess. he had to free her. but it still stings. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: he cried at endgame in theaters. jason hasn’t lived it down for weeks. BIGGEST SECRET: he’s gay. he thinks he’s gay. he’s... he’s not as self-assured as people think. not as strong. he committed to yale without telling a single soul, except cassandra. his parents still think he’ll be going to uconn or southern for hockey. TOP PRIORITIES: looking after his loved ones. making sure everyone’s okay. securing the centurions’ top season record. helping blue, somehow. how can he ease tess’s pain? get to graduation. get to graduation. leave west ham behind.

[gehlien]

eremin | soulmate AU | 2,4k | fluff, mutual pining & happy ending

Eren Jaeger had a simple ‘hi’ written on his wrist, aka the blandest thing the universe could come up with for him.

He couldn’t count the amount of mini heart attacks he’d experienced every time someone introduced themselves to him. The sudden leap from being hopeful to feeling disappointed always left a dry taste in his mouth. To prevent such situations, every time he heard ‘hi’ he would respond with some stupid sayings or random facts about marine life. Thanks to this he got plenty of weirded-out acquaintances, but no soulmate, because apparently no one had ‘I sexually identify as an alien’ tattooed on their skin.

Also, his sudden crush on his best friend Armin wasn’t helping at all. Because they were never supposed to work out. At least that’s what the experts said.

As opposed to Eren, the universe cursed Armin with the most bizarre soulmate mark it could offer. Many people had snorted their noodles out of their noses upon discovering it, others had made some silly remarks about it being kinky. Their reactions were totally understandable and justified, because how many people have ‘daddy’ forever carved onto their skin? A very exposed piece of skin, on top of that.

Another discouraging thing was the fact that all of their friends had already found their soulmate. In the case of Connie and Sasha, there was no room for misunderstanding, because each one of them had a very specific message on their skin. ‘Can I have your potatoes?’ and ‘Aren’t you afraid you’ll get too fat?’ are really hard to miss. Jean’s and Mikasa’a teetered on the edge of a casual exchange (‘Your hair is beautiful!’ followed by a simple ‘Thanks’), so it was a close call, but they managed to find themselves eventually, much to Eren’s displeasure.

“Come on, Armin, everyone knows what your mark says. You should stop wearing long sleeves to school,” Eren said, tugging at the hem of Armin’s shirt while they were on the bus.

“But the teachers have no idea,” he objected.

“If you’re so worried about it then you could cover it with another tattoo.”

“I’m not over eighteen yet.”

“You could get a written permission from you grandad?” Eren was one of these people who believed that finding a solution to a problem was always possible. As long as you also wanted to find it, of course. Which Armin seemed really reluctant to do.

“Maybe I’ll do it when I find my soulmate.”

“Why? Are you worried they won’t believe that it really says what is says?” It was supposed to be a genuine question, but came out as a snicker. “By the way, who the hell would be crazy enough to call you that in the first place? Probably some twat.”

“People these days are very cautious, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to check it. Which is understandable. I’d also want to be completely sure first before deciding to spend the rest of my life with one person,” said Armin, ignoring Eren’s second comment. “And that’s why you have to be three times as certain. In your case it’s even trickier.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Hi? This system is fucking stupid.”

“But accurate.”

“Who knows? Maybe there’s another person who’s so much better than your ‘soulmate’, but you’ll never know because you settled for what your wrist tattoo told you.”

Eren just couldn’t take it all at face value. Not when the love of his life was walking right beside him. It wouldn’t take a lot of effort to reach for the other boy’s hand. ‘Why can’t this be you?’ he thought, admiring Armin’s diminutive stature, his cute button nose, regal profile, and swaying blond bangs.

He looked at his tattoo, “I wish it said ‘Why don’t you ever fight back?’”. It was the first sentence he’d ever spoken to Armin and since then they’d always been on the same wavelength, no matter the circumstances. How could fate make such a grave mistake?

“I’m staying the night at Jean’s,” Mikasa said, stuffing her backpack with pyjamas and skin care products. “You can invite Armin over.”

“Does mom know?” Eren asked, propping his head on his hand. It was a sunny Friday evening, but he hadn’t got enough rest, so there he was lying flat on his stomach and scrolling through Facebook.

“Of course.”

“Use protection,” he whispered loud enough for her to hear. In turn, Mikasa threw a towel at his face. “Ew, I hope it never had anything to do with horseface’s body fluids.” He threw it back, and Mikasa caught it effortlessly.

“You wish.”

“Dude... you’re disgusting.”

He texted Armin that he was welcome to come over if he wanted. Armin didn’t let him down and agreed without second thoughts. Eren felt his soul ascend.

No other person in the world would ever be able to make him appreciate life as much as Armin. ‘They were perfect for each other’ didn’t even fit the description of how special their bond really was. But there existed a word that could.

Soulmate.

Remember that person you thought about in superlatives only, who met all of your expectations, understood you like no one else, and on top of that had an adorable laugh? Whose only flaw was that they were off limits? That’s how Eren perceived his current situation.

Eren looked at his wrist with burning hatred. He wanted to cry, scream, and punch, but instead he looked at Mikasa with bland expression, defeated.

“Are you happy with Jean?”

Mikasa looked at him, her expression stunned, and put down her phone.

“Yes. Why are you asking?”

“Are you sure he’s the one for you?”

“Well...” She put some stray hair behind her ear in one graceful motion. “We’ve been together for a year now... And I have no complains so far. Actually, I’m happy it’s him.”

“Hm...,” he let out a soft grunt. “Thanks, Mikasa. Have fun.”

After she left the room Eren desperately tried to look up some phrases like ‘soulmate mistakes’ or ‘wrong soulmate assigned to me’, but all in vain. The system was foolproof.

The only results that kind of answered his query were extreme cases like premature deaths, murderers, no soulmate mark or more than one tattoo. All interesting, but did nothing to calm his nerves.

Armin came into his house in a simple black T-shirt, no long sleeves in sight, and Eren sighed with relief. Also, he couldn’t deny that Armin looked like a snack with his forearms exposed and collarbone peeking from behind the material. ‘Is this what people call thirsty?,’ he thought, standing up to grab some spare pillows.

They spent an eternity deciding on a show to watch. The laptop lying on Eren’s lap generated so much heat that in the middle of the movie he had to take off his tank top.

The moment he did it Armin said, “I would kill for an iced coffee.”

Eren sent him a suspicious glare. Was it a direct comment about his bare torso? He wished it was, but at the same time he didn’t allow himself to interrogate Armin more, because in the worst case he’d be outed as a desperate over-reactor.

“I was thinking about going to a night club,” Armin said immediately after the credits rolled on the screen.

“Huh? Why?” The picture of Armin in such a dilapidated, dirty location rubbed Eren up the wrong way.

“I think that’s the place where I’m the most likely to be called...you know, daddy. God, it sounds so stupid.” The fact that Armin still couldn’t openly discuss his mark made the situation even more amusing. Frustration looked funny on his face. “Why are you laughing?”

“It’s good to see that I’m not the only one who’s desperate,” Eren said, winking at him suggestively.

Armin snorted, but let it go.

“Well, all jokes aside, it’s high time we finally found them,” he sighed.

As it turned out later, the drastic measures Armin proposed weren’t needed at all.

A distinct sound of giggles lured them both downstairs, where they found Carla and Armin’s mum sitting on the couch and visibly out of breath.

Upon entering the room they exchanged concerned glances. What was the purpose of this weird meeting?

“Why are you so shocked?” asked Armin’s mum.

“Who told you that old women couldn’t have a girls’ night?” Carla barely kept her composure.

There was a bottle of wine, half empty, and it explained everything. Eren sighed with great pain and drank straight from it; so did Armin a moment later, except he only took a gulp.

“Oi, you’re still a baby!” Carla’s motherly instinct kicked in despite her silly state.

Eren stuck his tongue out and launched himself at the pillows next to Carla. She just waved at him dismissively. Armin plopped down next to his mother and she ruffled his pretty hair. ‘They’re like two peas in a pond,” Eren thought. If you compared their looks and body type, they were almost the same: short, slim, and blonde.

Only Armin’s eyes made a difference, beautiful, deep, and ocean-like. Simply mesmerising.

“What are you doing?” Armin asked, peeking with curiosity above his mother’s arm. That’s when Eren also noticed she was holding a box full of photos.

“We were just talking about what a pain in the neck you two were when you were little,” Carla huffed, crossing her arms on her chest.

“Always ready to fight...” Armin’s mum sighed, probably remembering some vivid details.

“...and Mikasa had to save you every time...”

“because someone couldn’t stop baiting flat earthers...”

Armin let out a nervous laugh. He looked at Eren and shrugged. It really was pretty dumb.

“...and someone couldn’t contain his aggression.” Carla pulled Eren’s ear, who in turn yodelled.

“We get it!” They both said at the same time.

Carla went through the photos and took one with Eren still in diapers. She smiled fondly before showing it to others. “You were cute though,” she said. “I can’t believe you are already sixteen.”

“Muuum,” Eren whined. He couldn’t believe she had forgotten. “I’m already seventeen.” He hoped it was a joke.

Carla’s hand stopped mid-air, her eyes filled with dread. She quickly concealed it and mouthed something to Armin’s mother, who in turn paled and nodded.

“Really?” Eren raised a brow. He wasn’t offended or anything like that, he was just surprised by his mother’s forgetfulness. She always remembered about other people’s birthdays.

“As if you remember how old I am,” she said in an attempt to redeem herself.

“Forty five?” It sounded more like a question than a statement.

“You hesitated.”

“But I’m right,” Eren argued. Carla didn’t respond. Without saying a word, she got up and started rummaging through a cardboard labelled “kids”, and finally found a VHS cassette. Eren hadn’t seen one in a long time.

“What is it for?” Armin asked, out of his depth. For the whole time he was just watching the situation unfold like a complete bystander.

“You’ll see,” she said with a mischievous smirk.

Armin looked at his mother, hoping she’d give them some clue, but she shushed him. They could only watch Carla as she set up an old VHS recorder. It didn’t seem to cooperate at first, but eventually it swallowed the cassette whole.

Eren was expecting something tooth rotting and embarrassing, and his fears came true. He was now facing his ten month old self with chubby cheeks and running nose.

“Smile at mummy! Eren, look!” Grisha pointed at Carla, who was hidden behind the camera. She giggled. “Mummy’s right here!” The kid finally looked at the camera with innocent curiosity.

“Daddy?”

“Not daddy. It’s mum! M-u-m,” he said it, prolonging every vowel. This time little Eren managed to reproduce the sound with his unique, childish accent.

“Aww.” Carla was in awe.

Off-screen the door let out a soft creak, and then footsteps could be heard. Armin’s mum appeared in the frame with long fair hair and a cute baby boy in tow.

“Oh, who’s that? It’s auntie and Armin” Grisha told excited Eren, who suddenly started wriggling in his arms, probably begging to be put down on the floor. Mister Jaeger compelled and another shot showed Eren sitting in front of Armin, who seemed very interested in his thin brown hair. Eren, on the other hand, couldn’t stop staring into his big azure eyes. Some things never change.

“Daddy,” he said suddenly.

Armin, of course, didn’t understand, but replied with a word of his own.

“Hi.”

And then everything clicked into place.

Eren immediately found Armin’s eyes. They were looking back with delight.

“Does it mean what I think it means?” Eren asked, breathless. He felt as if a certain weight had been lifted.

“I can’t believe this...,” Armin said, and for a moment Eren’s heart stopped. Was he disappointed? Unsatisfied? “I’m so glad it’s you.”

If it weren’t for their mothers’ presence, Eren would jump into his arms and smother his face with kisses. One for every time he’d wanted to do that before. Unfortunately, he had to stay civil. At least for another while.

“I guess we’ll leave you boys to yourself?” Carla asked, visibly content with the outcome of this situation.

“Yeah.” Eren nodded. “Just one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Why have you kept this a secret for so long?” The question was also directed at Armin’s mum.

“Oh, honey...,” Carla sighed. “Would you rather I had told you when you were fourteen?”

“Yes. No.” Eren hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Children this age have better things to worry about than falling in love.”

“We were worried it would change your relationship. And you weren’t ready for romance yet,” Armin’s mother added, getting up and dragging Carla behind her. “We’ll leave you alone for a while.”

“Remember about consent. It’s important.” Was the last thing Carla said before exiting the room, and later the house.

It’s awkward, Eren thought, seeing how Armin kept avoiding his gaze. He could relate; those weren’t the best circumstances to find out someone you had already spent half your life with was your legitimate soulmate. At the same time, he understood his mother’s decision to withhold this news. It wasn’t a coincidence that 98% of people found their significant others in high school or even later.

“I’ve had a crush on you since we started high school,” Eren said to loosen the atmosphere.

“I’ve had a crush on you since you punched Floch that time.”

“Holy shit, that’s long!”

“But I think I always knew. That it’s you, I mean.”

“And are you happy about this?”

“Of course.”

“You’re lying!”

“Have I ever lied to you, Eren?”

Eren smiled. “Never.” Trying not to act too obviously, he sat a little bit closer. “So, can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Armin smiled and leaned in for a kiss, meeting Eren halfway.

[kurokoros]

one hundred ways to say “I love you” (sweet pea x reader)

#95 “Good luck.”

A series based on prompts from THIS list. They won’t be in order but all are loosely connected unless otherwise stated. Feel free to request specific ones, but I’ll try to get through all of them at some point.

Read all 100 ways.

“Think I should go easy on them?” Sweet Pea jokes from where he’s leaning against the bar beside you, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his mouth curls into a smile. “Give them at least a little chance?” You follow his gaze across the Wyrm to the pair of pool players from Greendale. They’d showed up earlier in the week looking for a match, and it’s turned into something of a spectacle since.

It’s no secret that Sweet Pea is one of the best billiards players on the Southside of Riverdale, if not the entire town, and ever since that news has spread, there’s been the occasional challenger from out of town looking for a good game. The Greendale men are nothing new, not really anyway.

Except that they’re good. Really good. Especially compared to some of the people you’ve seen in the Wyrm lately. They have nearly ten years of playing on Sweet Pea and Fangs and they’ve won a few local competitions in Greendale and Centerville. Nothing fancy, but it’s nothing to scoff at either.

“Don’t get cocky, Sweets,” you chastise lightly, eyes narrowing at the men. “They’re good.” You glance up at him, tilting your chin to meet his eyes when he straightens beside you, frowning down at you. “Maybe even better than you,” you joke, a grin pulling at your lips.

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, but his irritation of offset by the fond look in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Sweet Girl,” he murmurs back to you thumb absently brushing down your bare arm, “I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” His lips quirk at the edges at the familiar nickname. It’s one you’ve had for years now, and one that started as a joke more than anything else.

Back when you first started coming to the Wyrm, some of the older Serpents started referring to you as “Sweet’s Girl”, a name that’s stuck with you in all of the years you’ve known him. He’s modified the name for himself, but plenty of the Serpents still refer to you by the name. It’s something you’ve gotten used to after being friends with the tall, angry, loyal to a fault Serpent for so long.

You snort slightly. “Oh, I bet you will.” You twist around on your stool, turning to face him directly, a teasing grin spreading across your lips at his raised brow, Sweet Pea’s expression almost offended.

“You don’t believe me?” He leans in closer to you, dark eyes bright with something mischievous. His fingers trail lower down your arm, goosebumps left in his wake. Sweet Pea wets his mouth, his gaze flicking down to your lips briefly before jumping back up, his gaze more questioning than anything else.

Across the bar, Fangs calls out to Sweet Pea, beckoning him towards the pool table that’s been set up when Sweet Pea glances over his shoulder at their friend. A dozen younger Serpents are crowded around the table to watch the games, one of them, Isaac, holding the pool cue that Sweet Pea typically uses. The players from Greendale are already there, watching Sweet Pea from across the room, neither appearing fazed by the jeering of the younger Serpents around them.

Sweet Pea rises to his full height beside you, sobering when he sees how calm the other pair is. “Hey,” you start firmly, catching his fingers with yours and giving him a quick squeeze. Sweet Pea’s gaze flicks back to you, his brows narrowed, though he softens slightly when you send him a reassuring smile. “I’ve seen you hustle the best players at the Wyrm a dozen times,” you remind him, playing with one of the rings on his fingers, “these assholes aren’t going to know what hit them.” Fangs calls out to Sweet Pea again, but he doesn’t react, too lost in you to pay Fangs any mind. “Now go kick some ass,” you demand, releasing his hand and giving him a little shove towards Fangs.

He returns your grin, pushing off the counter though he doesn’t go far. He turns so he’s standing in front of you, sliding up to your bar-stool and slipping between your legs easily as he places his hands on top of the bar, boxing you in as he leans down, breath hot against the side of your neck. The counter digs into your back as he curves into you, pining you between him and the bar. “You gonna give me a kiss for luck, Sweet Girl?” he asks in a low, rough voice that sends a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“After all that talk?” you whisper back, fingers dragging along his chest before curling around his dog tags, dragging him down just an inch closer, hardly any space left between the two of you. You glance at his mouth, Sweet Pea’s expression almost smug as he stares down at you. “I don’t think you need it.” Your eyes snap back to his, peeking up at him through your lashes.

A low sound that’s practically a groan leaves him. “A little luck doesn’t hurt,” he tells you, practically breathing the words back and allowing you to pull him into you. There’s something honest about his eyes, something so sincere that you have to look away and brush it off.

You only laugh, hand suddenly flat against his chest as you push him back. “All right, Casanova,” you tease, smiling up at him as you force him a step back, Fangs calling out again, this time telling Sweet Pea to “hurry the fuck up!”. “The competition awaits,” you remind him.

He looks almost disappointed as you lean away from him, but it’s gone as suddenly as it was there, so you brush it off as a mere trick of the light. He glances back at Fangs sighing as he pushes off the bar top, leaving you for now. Sweet Pea takes a step back, but stops again, looking down at you. “You’re going to be watching, right?”

You smile. “Don’t I always?”

You bite your lip to hold back a smile as Sweet Pea sinks another shot, his eyes never once leaving yours as he does. He’s showing off, you know, making the game look easier than it really is. He’s always been good at making 8-ball look easy, which is how he’s scammed so many of the new initiates over the years you’ve known him.

Sweet Pea winks at you and you roll your eyes, shaking your head slightly. It only makes him grin wider, Sweet Pea wetting his lips as you cross your legs, your skirt hitching higher on your thighs. His dark eyes snap away from yours for only a second, darting down to the bare skin of your legs before jumping back up. He swallows, cocking his head to the side as he plants his pool cue on the floor, leaning against it as he watches you.

His dark eyes trace your features, his expression wolfish in a way that sends a shiver right up your spine, a pleasant tingle spreading and tugging low at your gut.

“Are you two done eye-fucking each other, or would you like us to clear out so you can bang on the billiards table?” Toni’s voice from the stool beside you snaps you back to awareness. You break eye-contact with Sweet Pea, practically ripping your gaze away from him to look at the smirking girl beside you.

You roll your eyes, used to her comments at this point. “We are not eye-fucking each other,” you deny, even though you can feel his gaze dragging over you from across the room, drinking you in with long, slow looks.

Toni snorts loudly, taking a drink from the glass in her hands. “Well someone needs to tell him that, because he’s practically undressing you right now,” she muses. You don’t dare look at him this time and it only makes Toni smile wider. “Which is some seriously awesome duel-concentration, considering he’s also kicking ass at pool.” She frowns down at her drink, eyes narrowing. “Granted, if Sweet Pea is good at two things, they’re hustling people and getting girls to take off their clothes,” she murmurs, words slurring slightly, and you bite back a laugh. “Not that you’re any better. We all know you don’t even like pool, you just like the view of Sweets’ ass as he’s bent over the table,” she continues, making you choke on your laughter, “but seriously, when are you guys going to get over yourselves and just bang already?”

You frown back at her, watching as she squints and takes another long drink from her glass. “Toni, are you wine drunk?”

“I’m wine tipsy. And that’s beside the point.” She turns to you, leveling you with an utterly serious look that’s offset by the way she almost slips from her seat. Her hands settle on your shoulders, forcing you to meet her stern expression. “Listen, Honey, I love you. I do.” You nod along with her slowly, unsure where this is going. “And I love Sweet Pea. We all love you guys. But the overwhelming sexual tension that appears whenever you two are in a room together is kind of disgusting.”

You have to force back a smile. Drunk Toni is always surprisingly ridiculous. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“So why aren’t you going for it?” She asks it like it’s obvious, like it’s inevitable that it’ll happen. “You’re obviously desperate to get some,” she continues, ignoring the offense that flashes across your face, “he barely takes his fucking eyes off you, and you guys were practically making out an hour ago in front of everyone. Go fucking get some, Girl.”

You sigh as you shift out of her grasp, leaning back against the bar, suddenly exhausted. You and Sweet Pea have been playing a game for some months now, flirting more than you should, teasing each other, but never getting closer than you were earlier tonight.

Maybe it’s because you’re both cowards or maybe you just know better.

“He’s a player, Toni,” you say slowly, more venom in your words than you intended. The smile leaves you for the first time tonight, and you glance over at Sweet Pea, meeting his eyes quickly. The grin drops from his face as soon as he sees your expression, but you look away just as quickly, releasing a slow, shaky breath. “Like you said, he’s good at getting girls to take their clothes off. That’s how he’s always been.” He’s never been serious about anyone in all the time you’ve known him, and he’s always made it perfectly clear that he isn’t looking for a relationship. “And I’m not looking for a hookup, not with him.” You swallow down the lump in your throat, picking at the hem of your skirt. “I know better than to get my hopes up,” you whisper, more to yourself than to Toni.

She hears you anyway, suddenly seeming very sober as she looks at you. “Y/N,” she murmurs, reaching for one of your hands, voice a little sad and a little disappointed, in you or him you don’t know. You don’t think you want to know.

“Sweets is the best,” you tell Toni, sending her a shrug and a smile that doesn’t even begin to reach your eyes. “I’m okay with how things are.”

Toni likes to joke that it was inevitable that you’d fall for him, like it was destiny. You’ve been attached at the hip since you met, aside from your second year of high school, when Riverdale had gone to shit and your mother got you the hell out of town and halfway across the country. Those were the worst few months of your life, back when you were ripped away from Sweet Pea and Toni and Fangs, back when you weren’t sure you would ever see them again.

It was like being pulled out from underwater when you saw them again, Toni practically sobbing when she saw you and Sweet Pea crushing you in a hug before you could say a word. You haven’t been that far apart since and if you and Sweet Pea have your way you never will.

He’s the one constant in your life and that terrifies you more than you’d ever admit out loud.

“What if he’s not?”

Your head snaps up, something twisting in your gut. “What?”

Toni sends you a sad, tipsy smile. “I wish you could see the way he looks at you when you don’t notice,” she admits, swaying slowly in her seat, the glass in her hand now empty. She gives a heavy sigh. “It’s like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.” You can only stare, wide-eyed as she continues her drunk rambling, barely able to breathe. “He hasn’t even looked at other girls in months and…” Toni trails off, wrinkling her nose. “Sweet Pea practically swallows you with his eyes, you know.” She blinks at you, reaching over to pat your hand, lacing your fingers together comfortingly. “Sometimes, I’m surprised there’s any of you left for the rest of us to see.”

You don’t respond. You can’t respond, unsure how much of Toni’s tipsy ramblings you should take to heart. She’s always been an honest person, even bluntly so, but she has a tendency to blow things out of proportion when she’s had too much to drink. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, heavy, and when your lips part all that leaves you is a wet crackling sound, your mouth unable to form words.

Toni’s expression is undeniably lucid when she sends you a small, encouraging smile, squeezing your fingers with hers again.

A shaky sound leaves you as you grip her back just as tightly. “Toni,” you breathe, “what—”

You’re cut off by a loud commotion coming from across the room, the younger Serpents speaking to each other rapidly. Fangs looks pale when you catch sight of him in the crowd, and Sweet Pea looks even worse. He looks almost confused as he stares down at the pool cue in his hand, as if he doesn’t understand what’s just happened.

“Holy shit,” Jughead murmurs from Toni’s other side, leaning forward on his stool as he looks at Sweet Pea as well.

“What just happened?” Toni asks him, disentangling your hands in order to twist around to face their other friend. She frowns at Jughead, gaze flicking between him and Sweet Pea in confusion for a moment, before she glances over her shoulder at you briefly.

You don’t return the look, watching as Sweet Pea runs a hand through his hair, pushing the dark strands away from his eyes. The rings on his fingers catch the low light and flash from across the room. He looks more rattled than you’ve ever seen him before, his eyes blown wide and his lips parted slightly. Behind him, Fangs is whispering something, looking more concerned than anything else, and across the table the player from Greendale smiles a bit too widely, obviously pleased about something.

Jughead just shakes his head, almost in awe as he watches what’s going on across the room. “He missed the shot,” he murmurs to Toni, releasing a weak laugh and leaning back against the bar. Jughead runs a hand down the side of his face, shocked.

“What?” Toni snaps, eyes going wide as her head snaps around to look at Sweet Pea. “Sweets never misses a shot!”

Jughead just shrugs. “Well, he just did.”

As if feeling your eyes on him, Sweet Pea’s head snaps up, his eyes locking with yours instinctively. There’s an odd look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before, and you mouth an “okay?” to him from your position at the bar. He gives a sharp nod and a smile, but his heart isn’t in it and you both know it.

He turns back to the game after another minute, but it only gets worse until suddenly Sweet Pea is losing for the first time in years. It’s something none of them have seen in a long time, and soon practically the entire bar is watching by the time the man from Greendale sinks two shots with ease, putting him ahead by a point.

It continues like that for some time. Sweet Pea can’t find the right angle to sink a shot and his opponent only seems to be getting better.

“Fuck,” Toni whispers, “I’ve never seen him off his game before.”

Jughead makes a low sound of agreement. “He’s not going to win the match. He’s rattled about something, you can tell. It would take a miracle to win.”

“Or a lot of luck,” Toni agrees, watching the game in the same way someone would watch a car crash, horrified but unable to tear her eyes away.

Your breath catches in your throat at Toni’s words, remembering Sweet Pea’s words from earlier. It’s stupid and you know you shouldn’t, because it’s stupid, really, but he’s losing and Toni’s words from earlier are still swirling through your head, and maybe you’re tired of being a coward.

There’s no such thing as luck, but if there is, he could definitely use a little now. He’s behind by three points, six balls on the table, including the 8-ball. If he doesn’t knock out the rest of his stripes with the next shot, there’s no way he’ll be able to win.

Sweet Pea leans over the table, lining up a shot—one that might be his last of the game—and without really thinking about it, you find yourself slipping from your stool and murmuring a quiet “fuck it” under your breath.

You tug your skirt back down your thighs as you steel yourself, taking a deep breath before practically storming across the room, ignoring Jughead and Toni calling after you in confusion.

Some of the younger Serpents look up as you get closer, nudging each other and whispering to themselves. You ignore them too, eyes on Sweet Pea only as you slip around the pool table, heels clicking across the hardwood floors.

“Stephen!” you call out when you’re close enough, the use of Sweet Pea’s real name catching more than a few people off guard.

Sweet Pea’s head snaps up at his name, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes you’re there. His grip on the pool cue tightens and he jerks in surprise, nearly bumping the cue-ball unintentionally. Fangs stares at you with wide eyes, looking lost as he glances between the two of you.

“Y/N?” Sweet Pea murmurs in confusion, eyes narrowing. “What are you—”

You don’t let him finish as you cross the small space between the two of you, grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket and jerking him around. Sweet Pea crashes into you, his big hands grasping at your hips to keep both of you steady, and you yank him down to meet you, lips meeting his in a messy kiss.

His grip on you tightens in surprise and you can hear him inhale through his nose sharply, his entire body going tense beneath you before he suddenly sinks into your touch. One of his hands slinks around your waist, settling low on your back as he presses you to him, as if trying to make you slip beneath his ribcage. He holds you to him, fingers skimming the bare skin of your back where your shirt has ridden up, and you lean up on your toes to kiss him harder, still pulling him down to meet you halfway, though he comes willingly.

A loud, sharp whistle comes from somewhere behind you and you’re suddenly reminded of your audience, though you can’t bring yourself to care as you linger for a moment, drowning in the taste of him.

You pull back a moment later, dropping back to your heels and slowly loosening your grip on his jacket. Sweet Pea exhales against you, his breath warm against your face as he stares down at you, blinking rapidly. There are a million things you want to say to him in this moment, but you’re too breathless and when you meet his eyes each and every thought just disappears. There’s surprise there, confusion, but also something softer, something fond.

Eventually, your mouth moves, forming words through the hazy feeling you’ve settled into. “Good luck,” you whisper, lips brushing against his the two of you are still so close. He shivers against you, looking down at you like you’re something wonderful. You move to take a step back, to let him finish his game, but Sweet Pea’s grip on you is firm and he pulls you impossibly closer, forehead pressing to yours as his mouth brushes against yours teasingly.

“One more for luck,” he mumbles, dragging you back up to meet him.

And if he wins the game it’s only because of luck.