#i ordered food from one of my favorite restaurants in my college town and left them a little note saying thank u for the yummy food since

[heartual]

☹️☹️☹️

#🍄.txt #i ordered food from one of my favorite restaurants in my college town and left them a little note saying thank u for the yummy food since #i’ve been here and that i’m moving back soon and they sent me a little keychain with a little congrats note 🙁 #i’m actually so sad 😭 i’m gonna miss my fav restaurants out here so bad :(

[vernalseason]

Here's why I'm so goddamn feral about The Bear.

I ran an ice cream store for about five years. No, it wasn’t fine dining, it wasn’t even a restaurant, but it was still food service. We were in a vacation town, and our place was the only ice cream store in the area, and the ice cream was GOOD. Customers used to ask me all the time if I got sick of eating it and I’d say no, and I meant it. It was reasonably fancy as ice cream goes, with some pretty out-there flavors, but mostly it was just GOOD. Super flavorful, dense but not chewy the way that some ice creams get where it feels like it’s stretching unnaturally when you pull your spoon away…

Point is, it was an ice cream shop in a tourist town, and in the summer we got killed during service every single night. Nonstop lines from 7 til 12 or 1 in the morning, no breaks. We got after-dinner crowds, after-show crowds, hordes of camp kids a busload at a time, and it might not have been fine dining but we worked HARD. We had 8, 9, 10 people on peak days all scooping, cleaning, making milkshakes (which is The Worst, in case you were curious), restocking by running down rickety definitely-not-to-code stairs to our tiny walk-in and hauling ice cream up 4 boxes at a time—because goddamn it, time was valuable and running up and down the stairs sucked and no one was going to go down multiple times when you could just grab 4 at a time and grit your teeth and shove them onto the counter upstairs feeling like you’d just benched your own body weight.

At the start of the summer, Memorial Day weekend, we were at our absolute peak. Following a truly herculean hiring effort aided by the promise of unlimited free ice cream, we had a crew of 20-odd overcaffeinated teenagers and twentysomethings who were working a truly awe-inspiring pace to kill the line. My favorite moments were, variously:

Being so busy I had to run two registers simultaneously, waiting for Square to process a transaction on one (chip card readers were murderously slow in the early days) while taking cash on the other;

Absolutely shattering every store record on a Saturday night with a skeleton crew and getting approval to order 12AM pizza on the company card, and taking a long, long hour to eat before we finally had to get around to scrubbing the calcified ice cream off the floors;

Gearing up to call for a restock on spoons, napkins, and other such necessities only to find that my assistant manager was behind me with a milk crate of those very things;

And so on.

There was about a month and a half of beautiful, well-staffed, smooth-running time before things frayed at the edges. Suddenly the factory couldn't get enough ingredients, since the company was chronically broke (turns out wholesale ice cream is a bad idea, folks; retail is where it's at), or the store walk-in broke down and we had to resort to chest freezers for storage for a month, or, most commonly, we started losing staff. I was always after the owner of the company to hire more year-round full-time staff, but there was always something more urgent for him to spend money on, like rent. So inevitably our staff would start leaving for college, and we'd be left with about half to a third of the staff we really needed to run. Which is when things started getting bad.

There are only so many doubles you can work before you start losing your grip on reality. I recall one day in August when I was somehow, improbably, the only person available to fill an entire day of shifts, and worked from 9AM pre-open to 11PM at night. The only thing that I remember is that the tips were phenomenal. But by Labor Day weekend we were down to our last seasonal staff and the entire core crew had worked at least two doubles that week and we limped into the off season with about two remaining brain cells between us.

Anyway. This post was supposed to be about The Bear.

I've never seen a show—or at least, never seen a FICTIONAL show—that so deeply understands what it means to be in food service. I watched the first episode in absolute awe of how they captured the intensity—just GOING until you get a moment to yourself in the bathroom, in the walk-in, in the office. And when you slow down, you think about how tired you are. How burnt out. How much all you really want is just to sit, maybe eat a slice of pizza, and stare into space for an hour. But then you go back out, and you get back to work.

I've also never seen a show that so accurately captures what it looks like and feels like to be a manager. Carmy losing his temper, giving in to that righteous anger in 'Review'—how DARE you not cover your station, how DARE you leave me with this mess that you created—I've been there. I'm not proud of it. I didn't punch a ticket printer, or scream in anyone's face, but I lost my cool, and that sticks with me. You don't get to take it back. You apologize (even if you were right), you patch things up, but no one ever really forgets.

But the show also does justice to one of the great joys of the service industry: getting to see people improve. One of my favorite subplots is Tina going from sabotaging Sydney to respecting her, trusting her, defending her. But mostly, it's my favorite because we see her get BETTER. She goes from just holding down her station to being a pro, from throwing things together to being careful, and thoughtful, and focused. And that moment when Tina says 'thank you, chef', and means it, really MEANS it, that's the kind of thing that gets me all teary. Because it's so much more than just 'thank you', but you'd have spend a hell of a lot longer to get it all out.

I guess if I was going to trace my rabid and, so far undiminished love of the show to a single thing, it would be the fact that it makes me feel seen. I haven't done that much reading on the people who made the show, but enough of them clearly lived this life or got close enough to it that they understand what it does to people, and what it requires of them. I loved working in food service, and sometimes I even miss it. I loved getting to make people's days, to give kids their first-ever ice cream, to feel like people were leaving in a better mood than they came in. And I met my partners through this life, all three of them, which is as exactly as wild and improbable as it sounds. But every time I look back on it fondly, I make myself remember that it was miserable too. The late nights, the early mornings, the days off cut short by delivering emergency stock or jumping in to cover a shift or just ending back up at the shop out of habit. The crushed toes and ragged wrist tendons and hoarse throats, the constant phone calls or checking sales to try and anticipate if we needed more staff. The sensation that after service, the rest of the world was dim in comparison.

I sank so much time and energy into that life, and I think the last thing I love about The Bear, the other thing that makes me tear up a little bit, is that for them it turns out alright in the end. They work through the problems, they make things run smooth, and they get the chance to build the place they dreamed about. That was always what I wanted, what I was working toward—the chance to make things better. And even in fiction, it makes me happy to see that come true.

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #jeremy allen white #ayo edebiri #retail #service #service industry #in service #my work #writing #I should talk more about this part of my life actually #and if you want to know more #just ask

[xomakara]

The Highlights of Romance

THoR Chap. Masterlist | Previous | Next

Chapter length - 2,323 words

Chapter 005 - Dates

The first date was to the movies. It wasn’t much but he took you out on a Friday night when no one would bother you so you both could just spend time together without having to worry about interruptions. He told you to wear whatever you wanted so you went for the flowy tank top with blue jeans because it was still warm outside. And as soon as he saw you walk down the stairs towards him, he couldn’t help but smile at you.

You looked absolutely stunning. Your hair fell softly around your shoulders, letting your outfit shine while keeping you comfortable. Even though you usually preferred to dress a bit more conservatively, you made an exception tonight. Maybe this could be the start of something amazing.

He got you the tickets and waited patiently as you paid for them. As you were walking to the movie theater he took off his jacket and handed it to you, making sure you didn’t need anything else before he walked inside with you.

When the lights dimmed you sat close to him, leaning against his shoulder. There were a few awkward moments but then suddenly the movie started. You had no idea how long you were watching it but eventually the movie ended and there was a lot of silence between the two of you. The theater was almost empty and since it was late the only people who were still left were probably drunk college students who wanted to pass out instead of going home. The cool air surrounded you, making it feel perfect as you sat there, waiting for Mark to speak up.

Finally, he did.

“So, uh, how’d you like the movie?” He asked, smiling slightly.

“It was okay.” You replied, blushing slightly. “Did you like it?”

“It was pretty good.” He nodded. “Was it just okay for you? Or is it like…”

“Just okay?” You cut him off, hoping he wouldn’t notice how much you were blushing. “No, I liked it.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Me too. Now let’s go get dinner.”

Then he stood up and offered his hand to you. You hesitated before taking it and after you both stepped out of the movie theater, Mark started walking forward, pulling you along behind him. The street lamps lit the path before you as you kept up with him, feeling slightly lost in the darkness. He led you towards the town center and after a short distance of walking he stopped and pointed at a place nearby. A restaurant. You were hungry and hadn’t eaten yet today so you followed him inside.

After you ordered food you sat down at a table and started eating. You had just taken a bite when Mark finally spoke up again.

“So, is there anything special you want to do next?” He asked, grinning. “We haven’t really talked much today so I guess we should.”

“Sure.” You shrugged. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Well,” Mark replied. “Why did you decide to become an author? And why romance of all genres?”

“Hmm.” You thought about it for a moment. “I guess I’ve always been creative so writing seemed natural for me. And my mother is a writer so I guess she influenced me as well. Romance is my favorite genre. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve always wondered that.” Mark chuckled, rubbing his chin. “I mean, from what I know, you like muscular guys like Jaehyun and Yuta. I’m not exactly the most attractive guy you could date but-”

“Mark!” You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “Don’t even think like that.”

“But seriously.” Mark continued. “I was just wondering why you would like someone like me when you could have any hot guy out there.”

“Why does anyone choose to date someone?” You laughed lightly. “Because they find them interesting. Because they connect with them. I’m attracted to men because I find them physically attractive and I find them emotionally attractive as well. But I also like you as a person. Sure, I may find other guys hotter but I won’t deny that I’m intrigued by you. Besides, if you find me attractive, I’ll make sure you’re satisfied sexually. I promise.”

“You seem to know what you’re talking about.” Mark grinned. “How’d you learn that?”

“Experience.” You smiled. “Now, about our date. How do you want to spend the rest of the night?”

The second date was at the beach. Mark insisted on driving you somewhere far away where no one would bother you. The sun beat down on you as the ocean crashed against the shoreline, making it difficult to stay in the sunlight. After you ate lunch at the restaurant near the beach you decided to explore a little bit. And when you found a beautiful cliff overlooking the ocean you decided to climb down, holding onto the rail as you slid down until you reached the bottom. Then you began exploring the rocks as you walked towards the water, kicking them with your feet as you went. Finally, you sat on a rock, leaning against it, the waves splashing against the stone beneath you. You closed your eyes and let the breeze brush against your skin, listening to the sound of the ocean and the waves crashing against the rock. When you opened your eyes you noticed Mark staring at you. He smiled lightly as he approached you.

“Wow.” He breathed out. “I knew you were gorgeous but damn. You are just breathtaking.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled. “You’re kind of hot yourself.”

"Stop trying to get into my pants." Mark laughed lightly as he knelt down beside you. "You're ruining the moment here."

"Not at all." You giggled. "That's the whole point of this date. We both get to enjoy each other's company and not worry about sex. So now's the perfect time to take advantage of it."

"Hmph." Mark rolled his eyes playfully. "You have no shame do you?"

"None whatsoever." You replied. "If I'm being honest, this is actually really awkward for me. This is the first time I've dated anyone in a long time."

"Yeah." Mark sighed. "I remember when I last dated. I tried to impress her with my intellect and charm and blah blah blah. And it was totally stupid because I realized later on that she was just impressed by my looks. At least that's what happened to me anyway."

"Well damn," You let out a soft laugh. "I guess I'm screwed since I'm impressed by your looks."

"Hey!" Mark snapped, grabbing your hands. "I am NOT going to fuck you!"

"Well, that's disappointing." You shrugged, squeezing his hands. "I'd hoped for at least a kiss or two."

"Don't push your luck." Mark smirked.

"Okay fine." You pouted. "But we're still doing these dates right?"

"Right." Mark nodded. "As long as you keep acting like you don't want to bang me, then yes. These dates will continue."

You snorted lightly and leaned back, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the warmth of the sun beating down on you. In that moment everything felt so perfect, so wonderful, that you didn't want to leave. You just wanted to stay there forever, with Mark by your side, sharing smiles and laughs.

"Ready to go back up?" Mark whispered in your ear.

You sighed lightly, tilting your head upwards. "Nope. Not ready to leave yet."

For the third date Mark suggested something different: A game night. You agreed, mostly because you needed some time alone with him, to discuss things like he said earlier.

Once you arrived at his apartment, you noticed a stack of games on the coffee table. You helped him pick one and once he got started, you joined him, eager to discover new things about each other. During the game night you learned more about him than you ever imagined possible. Things about his past that you thought you already knew and stuff about himself that he had hidden. You shared memories with him that made you feel nostalgic and had him share some stories with you that made you blush. By the end of the night you were exhausted but in a good way. Like you had experienced something important with him and now you were connected on a level that couldn’t be broken.

At some point during the evening you must have fallen asleep because when you woke up you were curled up next to him on the couch. The room was dark except for the moonlight shining through the window. When you lifted your head, your eyes met his. He was looking at you with such affection that it made your heart skip a beat.

It wasn’t love but it was definitely something.

"Hello sleepyhead." Mark greeted you gently. "Wake up."

You yawned and rubbed your eyes before sitting up. When you turned to look at him, you saw that he was already sitting up on the couch, leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Sorry." You yawned again. "Guess I fell asleep. What time is it?"

"Midnight." He answered. "If you're tired, I can walk you over to your unit. Or you can spend the night here."

"Yeah and then Johnny, Renjun, and Yangyang will definitely say something the next time we all have breakfast." You chuckled. "So yeah, thanks for offering but I'll sleep at home tonight. Thanks for asking though."

"Anytime." Mark smiled warmly at you. "And if you need anything, don't hesitate to come see me."

"Will do." You gave him a small smile. "Night Mark."

"Good night." Mark returned the gesture.

When you entered your unit you quietly took off your clothes and crawled under the covers, snuggling into your bed sheets. As you drifted off to sleep you smiled softly, thinking about your conversation with Mark and your date. You were happy. For the first time in a long time you were truly happy. Everything felt so wonderful.

Sometime around 4am you woke up. Your entire body ached as you stretched out and when you looked over at your alarm clock, you saw that it was 4:05am. You groaned softly as you sat up and reached over to turn off the alarm clock. Even though you wanted to go back to sleep, your muscles refused to cooperate and you ended up lying awake for another hour before you finally decided to get out of bed. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to catch some extra sleep.

It was 6am when you stumbled into the kitchen to make some coffee. You had barely poured a cup of coffee when someone knocked on the door.

"Coming!" You called out loudly.

As you slowly walked towards the door, you pulled your hair up into a messy bun, tying it with a black ribbon. It was only then that you realized you had forgotten to change your clothes. God damn it. Well, whoever was knocking on the door probably didn't care. Still, you cringed internally as you grabbed the knob and unlocked the door.

Your hand froze midair as you looked at who stood outside your front door.

It was Mark.

Shit.

He saw you looking at him and he grinned.

"What?" He teased. "Cat got your tongue?"

You stood aside to let him in and once he was inside, you shut the door behind him. His eyes trailed across your body before landing on your face.

"Well hello there." He smiled warmly. "Looking…fresher than usual."

"Hi." You mumbled shyly. "Sorry. Didn't realize it was you until I unlocked the door."

"You look tired." He frowned. "Are you okay?"

"I am now." You shook your head. "But a couple hours ago I couldn't fall asleep. That's probably why I look so tired."

"Did you miss me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Uhm…" You paused. "Maybe?"

He laughed lightly. "See I told you that you missed me."

"Oh whatever." You huffed. "I wouldn't miss you for the world."

"Right." He chuckled. "We'll just see about that. Now let's talk. I have some questions for you."

"Sure." You agreed, leading him to the living room. "Let's sit down."

After sitting down, Mark set his backpack on the floor and unzipped it, pulling out several books and papers. You watched him curiously as he flipped through the pages of the books, scanning them with his eyes before he carefully placed them back into his bag. He grabbed one of the papers from his bag and handed it to you.

"Here." He mumbled. "Read it. I want you to tell me how you feel after you finish reading it."

You read the paper silently, not quite understanding what he meant by it.

But soon you did.

You could feel yourself begin to flush red as you finished reading the page. On the paper, Mark wrote something in red ink: 'Do you like me?'

There was a question mark after the sentence.

This was a test. You knew it was a test. But why? Why was he testing you? You read the sentence over and over again in your mind. Did you like him? Do you like him? Do you like him? And every time you read those words your cheeks grew even warmer. You continued to stare at the paper, feeling the heat rise within you. Your body began to shake slightly as you waited for Mark to speak.

"Well?" He asked.

"Um…" You gulped. "Uhm."

Mark laughed lightly. "Is that a yes or a no?"

You quickly looked up at him.

"What?" You stuttered. "Am I supposed to answer that? Are you making fun of me or something?"

"No." Mark shook his head. "The purpose of this little exercise is to find out whether or not you like me."

"Well, if you needed an answer..." You crossed your arms and let out a small laugh. "...not yet."

"Really?" He asked, a smile coming to his lips. "Guess, I have to try harder then."

THoR Chap. Masterlist | Previous | Next

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct dream #mark #mark lee #nct mark #nct smut #mark smut #THoR

[fatalfangirl]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @cutestkilla! I loved reading your answers 💕 (oh and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe! I need to read yours!)

Relationship Status: Just passed my 12th wedding anniversary, and we're reaching 19 years together in October. We met young and got married fairly young. Not quite high school sweethearts.

And no children. Two cats is plenty.

Favourite Colour: Green. Forever and always. Amen.

Favourite Food: Controversial, but hot dogs! 😂 Specifically german franks with a natural casing. On a potato bun. With ketchup.

Beef dogs can fuck right off, though.

Song Stuck in Your Head: Mount Everest by Labrinth. It's on my Dead in Vegas fic playlist as the long for the story's villain and has been getting a lot of plays.

Last Thing You Googled: “Exit, pursued by a bear!” which comes from me reading a hilarious WIP from @whatevertheweather this morning. I cannot wait for you all to read it.

Time: Currently 11:35am

Dream Trip: Japan, always. Especially Kyushu. But the trip I've been dreaming about for ages is taking a camper van through Wales. There is a story to this:

After college, my partner and I went on the classic backpacking-through-the-UK-and-Ireland trip. It was 2006 and we had been able to book most things online beforehand, but Wales lodging had proved difficult to reserve outside of Cardiff. Still! We persevered and the tourist centers were very helpful with helping us find places to stay once we got into a town. Except in this place I can't remember the name of outside of Pembroke. There was a fair. No lodging anywhere. So after a cry and flipping through my travel book, I found a list of camp grounds. We bought a popup tent and a pair of spider-man sleeping bags, hopped on a bus going in the right direction, and got off at the first campsite we saw.

It worked. We camped in a field at the edge of the ocean. It was gorgeous. There was a pub down the road. Someone in the camp made breakfast for folks. I want desperately to go back and do coastal Wales right.

Last Book You Read: To completion: Boyfriend Material. I can't wait for the sequel!!!! The majority of want I read is manga and webcomics though. So last one of that I read was The Pizza Delivery Man and the Gold Palace. Which isn't that good, but I keep thinking maybe it will get good, so I've been sticking with it.

Last Book You Enjoyed Reading: Boyfriend Material, but in the world of BL I would say King's Maker (not the sequel, Triple Crown, which I had to ditch, it dragged so badly). It's a bit intense, but I liked the narrative and pacing.

Last Book You Hated Reading: Hate is a strong word, but I am VERY MUCH over the current Jujutsu Kaisen manga arc. Jesus, just let Gojo out of the damn box. Side note - the Shonen Jump subscription is the best deal in manga.

Favourite Thing to Cook/Bake: I do not enjoy cooking or baking! My husband is not big on it either. Our best friends thankfully like feeding us. I call their house my favorite popup restaurant.

Favourite Craft to do in Your Free Time: I write, which if you are reading this you know. But I'm embarking on an embroidery project inspired by Local Hero. I'm not that great at embroidery, but I like making things.

Most Niche Dislikes: Tom Brady Hertz commercials make me feel violent.

Opinion on Circuses, Now and in History: I don't like seeing animals forced to be entertainment. But I do like big top Cirque shows. I like the feeling of entering a little fort into another world.

Do you have a sense of direction, and if not what if the worst way you’ve gotten lost: I'm not great. I'm one of those people that mix up left and right all the time, so I just point and say that way or have to wiggle my hand a little bit to mimic writing in order to pick out right from left. That said - I am the navigator in most settings. Which, as the people on our Vegas trip know, doesn't mean I know where I'm going.

Tagging: @facewithoutheart, @whatevertheweather, @moodandmist, @artsyunderstudy, @bookish-bogwitch, and @raenestee

#do I have typos in this? most likely #that's how I roll

[candycorncandle]

Love Letter to my Friends

Tw- life stuff? Not suicide but like depressiony shit

I've not been on here and that's not okay and it is. Its not okay in the way that I miss yall and miss talking to you and sending memes. But I've also been v busy. Read this, don't but either way.

Do you ever get think about the friends you've made online and how some of them you'll never meet or see again because they have gone inactive and it scares the living shit out of me. I may have never met yall but you guys are my friends and it fucking pains me that I'll never be able to show up on ur doorsteps with McDonald's and watch a movie or like even put flowers on ur hair when we go on walks or shit.

Timeline-

May 15th- last day at my favorite job. We all, there was about 75 of us. We all had made big plans to move to that city and were getting cars and drivers licenses in order to get to said job. We found out two weeks before that my company at that time had lost the contract. I was a cook in a college building cooking for students in a 50s themed diner. It had multiple restaurants in the same building so I was one of the ones they crosstrained so I was in about every one of the 8 concepts they had. I loved it. No cap on overtime, I was treated good. The university kicked us out because the contract price was too expensive and they found a cheaper competitor. I was one of the last 4 people to leave the building that day, I walked out with four of my friends (technically bf too)

May 15 to June 1st- didn't have a job lined up. Losing the jobs threw everyone off. Word cam in that a close university also run by my company could take us in. Fine. It was an hour and a half away. So,, being from the same small ass town my and my bf decided to move for that job at the new college.

New college was opening a jersey mikes. It's a sub sandwich shop. They take three of us from the first college job and send us through manager training at a training store. Also sends an employee from the new college.

We didn't last two weeks before we all walked out. Shitty management, forced customer interaction (which, is what food service is but this took it to a whole new level), the place was disgusting. The employees at the jm were doing crack and shots in the back because they ALL are dead inside and I firmly believe that jm caused a good portion of that.

July 10- was my last day of jm i couldnt take it anymore. I had multiple breakdowns and had one as a clocked out for the last time. I remember just turning to go hop back on the sandwich making station and this sense of dread just filled me and I knew I could not stay there.

I was the second on out. My bf lasted for four more weeks after I quit. My work bestie lasted through training but left two days ago. The manager over all of us quit last week because the stress from this deal put him in the hospital.

And the fuck of it all was,, a higher up in the company made a shady deal with the jm owner for that region and that's why we weren't pulled. Another coworker had walked out the first week and that's when the very high ups said pull them jersey mikes is done at this place. But then the deal guy said no, I don't care if it kills you you are my employees, you do what I say.

July 24th- when is started my current job. I work as a cook at a golf course. I like it. It's nice and isn't like super fast paced like the first college job was.

August 1st- moved to the big city. Starts with a C in a Midwest state I'll let you guess there's not many. Live my new apartment and get started on a new antidepressant because my previous one had stopped working during jersey mikes training.

August 7th - 23rd, had about 10 interviews because I was not sure about the golf job.

August 26th - Sep 11th, my cat was in the vet hospital. Took them some time to figure out what was wrong but he has feline ibs and is allergic to protien. His bilirubin was 11, it's supposed to be 0.5. He was looking scraggly but he's doing so much better now.

He was so yellow. He's not now but he has earned the nickname highlighter boy. He's doing better now and has to be tube fed for another week or so but he's better.

September 7th- goes back to my first college job now that another company has taken it over. My entire crew is back as well.

September 9th- quits my old/new job because I can't make the drive anymore. It's exactly what I was doing from Indiana to the place, just now I'm in another state. It sucked so much because my crew was back and we all worked so well together.

Now- Happy with my job. They are firing this one worst worker there. Since it's a small kitchen there's only 4 cooks and she's a bitch. The worst. She's going to be gone soon so that is super great. As of right now I'm printing off some planner pages that I'm going to laminate and hopefully that will help me get my life in order.

My bf quit vaping, his dog is getting neutered sometime soon and that's good bc the dog does NOT have manners. Theres no overtime at my job now so it's let me have more at home time which is something I did not take for the past year since I always had overtime opportunities. I like decorating my apartment and cooking. I'm cooking more now! Im so happy for myself, as it's something I haven't done for a very long time due to the spicy sadnesses.

I'm going to pharmacy tech school starting this November. I'm excited to learn about that because I've known for awhile I've needed to get out of food before it breaks my body down.

Thank you for reading this I love you all.

-Gosh DAMG IT. I had more paragraphs here but tumblr is stupid and deleted them let's see if I'll rewrite them bc I'm not going to tonight I've been here at the printer for 3 hours now.

@slothspaghettiwrites @tiredmoonlight @bitchassbucky @ghostydeans @littlelioncub43 @loki-hargreeves @kim-monsterlings @munsonsmuse @earth2bucky

#moongobliny thoughts #moongoblin moots

[sheasbeverlyblog]

Caffeine Chronicles on Cabot: Exploring Beverly’s Best Coffee Shops on Cabot Street

As a Beverly MA resident for the past 3 years, along with being an avid coffee drinker, I have visited almost every coffee joint scattered along Cabot Street. I prefer local places over large corporations like Dunkin Donuts or Starbucks, not only to support them but also because the coffee tends to be better. I have spots that I frequent daily, and some I crave only once in a while…

What’s Brewing Cafe

What’s Brewing is a quaint shop located at 198 Cabot Street in Beverly. Going almost unnoticed, the shop has two table settings out front on the sidewalk. I have been visiting this shop for the past 3 years, and have never been disappointed. 

When you walk in, the wall to your right is coated with hand-written menus. The wall to your left has fliers, supporting local businesses, artists and events. Directly in front of you is the cashier and the pastry box. From donuts to cinnamon rolls, What’s Brewing offers a multitude of delicious bites. The overall atmosphere is one that makes you want to take a seat and hang around for a while. Unfortunately, they do not have an indoor seating area since the shop is so small, however it is still always a pleasure when the visits are brief.

The menu is large with a variety of sandwiches, coffees, espressos and more. Everytime, I order the butterscotch mocha iced coffee with an everything bagel and cream cheese. As a bagel lover, I would name their bagels the best ones in town. My favorite coffees to browse from are located on the specialty list: a variety of unique coffee flavor combos with something for everyone. The bagels are huge, fluffy, and truly delectable. Never in my life have I had a bagel big enough to last me two whole meals; half for breakfast, then half for lunch. On occasion I get the egg, cheese and pepper sandwich, which gets topped with hot peppers for a bit of spice. 

The owner Kevin is as welcoming as it gets; he’s always open to friendly chit chat while he mixes up delicious coffee concoctions. If you have visited What’s Brewing a few times, he will know you by name and have your order memorized. 

The pricing is fair, and cheaper than what I am used to compared to the local spots, usually paying ten dollars or less per visit. My typical coffee is five dollars even and my bagel is four. I don’t feel like I'm breaking the bank when I visit, which is very appreciated as a college student.

For a rating out of five coffee mugs, I give What’s Brewing five coffee mugs! I always leave with a smile on my face, and a satisfied belly. I highly recommend you check out this spot, I’m positive you’ll be pleased!

Atomic Cafe 

In a hard to miss location sat in the middle of Cabot Street, Atomic Cafe has sparked all the buzz. Two college graduates started roasted their own beans, creating their own coffee line and opening their own shop. Atomic Cafe is located at 268 Cabot Street in Beverly in a big white building with a couple chairs sat out front.

This shop is my go-to spot to do homework when I need a place to focus; I’ll plug my headphones in and I work far more efficiently here. I discovered this spot about a year ago, and have found that the crowd and employees here are always pleasant.

The interior is large and spacious. There are tables and booths that wrap around the entire restaurant, offering plenty of places to sit. The vibe in the atmosphere is cozy-modern. Everything inside and out is with white, brown or black, with a vintage feel to it. In the back there is a section of branded items; tshirts, sweatshirts, mugs, straws, etc.

The menu has breakfast and lunch options, as well as pastries and of course a variety of coffee drinks. I got a maple latte with an egg and cheese last time, and it cost me around thirteen dollars. It was delicious. When I am looking for lunch food, I order the avocado BLT with the charged chai. I tend to avoid coffee here, as I feel it is more for an acquired taste. It is very bitter and is not my typical go-to.

My favorite aspect of Atomic Cafe is the juicery in the back left. The first few times I visited, I hadn’t noticed the doorway in the corner leading to Atomic Juicery. The menu offers a variety of health shots, smoothies, pressed juices, and acai bowls. There is a separate seating area back here if you are seeking a quieter place to relax. Here, I typically get the mean green cold pressed juice which consists of kale, lemon, ginger, apple, and some honey.

The pricing is a little steep, but not too far off from typical coffee shops as of late. My green juice is always around twelve dollars for about sixteen ounces and my latte is normally eight dollars; their prices are far more than I am used to paying, but on occasion it’s worth it..

Surprise, there is also a secret door in the back right as well! Copper Dog Books is a bookstore right next door, with a connecting entry way right inside of Atomic Cafe. 

Atomic Cafe has landed all over the map: traveling in Beverly and around, many places serve their coffee. At Endicott College Atomic brew is served all over campus. I work at a restaurant called Kitchen Table, they also serve it. I was at a market in Beverly Farms, and guess what they served? They have become successful owners in their venture. I rate Atomic Cafe a four out of five coffee mugs!

Kaffmandu Coffee House and Cafe 

Welcome to Kaffmandu Coffee House and Cafe at 280b Cabot Street in Beverly. Through passing, the red-colored exterior appears to be any regular old shop. Upon entering you will be met with the hypnotizing smell of roasted beans and buttery pastries. To your right is an elevated seating area, my favorite place to sit. Around the bannister are some booths and a hallway to the back. Straight ahead is the resistor, surrounded on all sides by cases of pastries; they even offer a large section for gluten free individuals.

The atmosphere is comfortable; it feels like a typical place to meet up with an old friend. The original Kaffmandu is located in Danvers, and the Beverly location opened in 2022. The shops are all family owned, giving off a comforting and wholesome vibe to both of the locations.

The large menu hangs over the cashier stand. From hot sandwiches, to cold, from lattes to frappes. Kaffmandu has it all. Their coffee is fairtrade and organic, and tastes truly delicious. I got the toffee drizzle latte and almost melted to the floor. From the wide variety of sandwiches I usually get the turkey and veggie wrap, that they top with their homemade veggies cream cheese that add the nicest touch. 

The pricing is fair, with my latte being around six dollars, and my sandwich being about ten with decently sized portions. On top of this, Kaffmandu Cafe offers a discount to all Endicott College students who arrive with their school identification card. Pop over to Kaffmandu Coffee House and Cafe at any time of day for a little pick me up, they got your back!

To rate this shop, I will give them four and a half coffee mugs out of five!

[shanastoryteller]

i feel like i’ve told this story before but i can’t find it on my blog so here we go again

my aunt and grandma came out to visit me from the middle of nowhere town we’re from and i was reminded how very much middle of nowhere it’s from when i asked if they wanted to order indian for dinner and they told me they’d never had indian food before

which on top of being a grade a tragedy was genuinely confusing for me because i’d had indian food before moving away. i remembered eating it several times in high school 

then i remembered that’s not because there was indian restaurant we went to but because one of my very good friends was indian and i was the favorite parental approved friend who was allowed to go over for dinner and just hang out 

i was her parents’ favorite friend not because i was the politest, or the most put together, or because they knew my family, or anything like that

it was because i could handle spice 

i remember the first time i went over to hang out - i think we were working on a project together? - it was getting late but we weren’t done and she went and asked her parents if i could stay for dinner. they argued with her about it in bengali, and i didn’t want to stay if it would cause problems, so i told her it was fine and i’d go

but she said that her mom was actually telling her that i wouldn’t want what she was making and i wasn’t going to like it and my friend was like ok i’ll warn her then can she stay?? and her mom agreed and i was just confused. so my friend was like. okay. its a sauce kind of and there’s fish with bones and it’s spicy. and i, having had the type of food i eat be a source of anxiety in a social economic stigma sense but not a cultural sense, had no idea what the problem could be and just went, great, awesome, love me some free food

i have no idea what i was served but i know it was extremely good and i loved it and i asked if i could have seconds, which i didn’t usually do at a friend’s house, but it was just that good, and her mom kept asking if it was too spicy for me and i was like no :) it’s very good :) more please :)

anyway that’s how i became the favorite friend which my friend then used shamelessly to get away with dating an older white boy that her parents did not want her dating 

when she wanted to spend time with him she’d just be like hey! can i go to this thing? yes boy will be there, BUT shana will also be there! so clearly nothing suspicious is happening :)

which was fine but then he went away to college while we were still in high school and neither of us had our license SO my friend played 3d chess and told her parents that me and the boy were such good friends, and we all used to hang out so much, and wouldn’t they drive us to this random college town two hours away so we could all hang out together? 

and they said yes

except of course as soon as we got there we split up. the parents were out window shopping and stuff and then boy gave me his id and meal card so i could go wherever on campus and buy food and then he and my friend locked themselves in his room. since you know, my presence here was actually just a decoy and i’ve essentially made this trip so my friend can see her secret boyfriend, which means i’m just stuck on my own for the day

and of course i couldn’t just stay in the student area because THAT WOULD BE TOO EASY AND SMART and there was was a bookstore i wanted to go to. so i went into town to do that, nbd, except i was crouched over looking through second hand shakespeare when who walks over to me?

but her parents! whomst i like a lot and feed me a lot! and usually i don’t have to come up with my own lies, just agree with my friends’ lies! 

and they’re like hey, where’s our daughter and the boy? and i just laughed and was like oh, they wanted to move on from the bookstore but i wasn’t done looking yet, they’re probably just up ahead at the next store :) :) :) haha please don’t question me further 

that was on brand enough for me that they were like oh okay well don’t get left behind! hahaha (do not leave our daughter alone with this boy shana they said to me with their eyes) and i smiled and nodded and booked it back to the campus to hide out in the student lounge 

which is why i’ve had indian food before even though my family hasn’t 

#we didn't keep in touch after high school but those were good times #this is your grandma talking

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

A Family Affair

Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader

We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of. 

Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies.  This fic will definitely be a two parter

Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!

TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships

Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut

Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.

You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.

You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.

The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.

"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."

She nodded.

"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."

You smiled when she giggled and ran off.

Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"

He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.

"Uh - forty-two."

He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.

Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?

"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"

She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."

Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"

You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.

"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.

"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."

"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."

You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.

The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.

Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.

"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"

The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."

You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.

"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"

The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.

Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.

"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"

She shook her head.

A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."

You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.

"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"

She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.

He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.

You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"

"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."

You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."

"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."

There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.

"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.

There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."

Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?

There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.

The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.

Eri.  You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.

"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"

"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"

Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.

You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"

You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.

The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.

"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.

"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."

Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.

"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.

Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.

"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."

---

It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.

When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.

You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.

You should've left.

You should've left.

You should've left.

Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.

You should've left.

You should've left.

You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.

"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.

"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."

Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.

Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."

He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.

"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."

Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.

With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:

"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."

He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.

"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"

With narrowed eyes he continued:

"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."  

The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .

"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee.  "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."

---

After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.

Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.

"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."

The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.

The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."

She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.

"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."

The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."

Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.

"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."

Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.

---

There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.

"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.

"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”

The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.

"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."

For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.

"You're going to kill me?”  

Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.

"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."

Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”

There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.

#slasher au #mha x reader #bnha yandere #mha yandere #yandere erasermic #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere x reader

[sarahlynnirl]

Losing my best friend - Sugar Daddy culture is not empowering

I finally feel strong enough to talk about this and hopefully get some love, support, and reassurance from other women who agree that this is fucked up. I’ve never been “terfy on main” before so here goes. (TW child abuse + SA but no graphic descriptions of SA)

My mother is a narcissist who financially and emotionally abused my father and myself, with some additional physical abuse of me, for as long as I can remember. My dad made plenty of money but my mom controlled it all and made sure it didn’t go towards anything for me beyond the bare minimum required not to look obviously guilty of child abuse and neglect. I met Kiara (not her real name) when I was a junior in highschool and she was a freshman. Her mom was a single Korean woman doing her best to support Kiara and her 2 sisters while also running a Korean restaurant. My first jobs were a summer camp counselor and fitting room attendant at Forever 21. I would spend the last scraps of my paycheck making sure Kiara was able to order a full meal when our friends went out to dinner, buying her little gifts, and generally trying to keep us both as happy and healthy as possible.

When Kiara graduated highschool her mom drove her into Koreatown New Jersey, got her a room in the apartment of an acquaintance, and basically left her to fend for herself. Kiara spoke barely any Korean. She began working at a Korean salon where she met Ariana (not her real name). She had a NY cosmetology license, not an NJ one, while Ariana was an illegal immigrant from Korea so they were both overworked, underpaid, forced to work overtime, paid under minimum wage, and deprived of their tips. They couldn’t report or complain about this since they were both working illegally.

Kiara had to pay rent for the one room she occupied despite her land lady yelling at her, walking into her room while she slept, banning her from having friends over, and reporting to her mom if she spoke to a guy on the phone or a guy dropped her off. I was working at a restaurant in my college town on top of my classes and doing my best to keep surprising her with little gifts, but neither of us had enough disposable income to afford to visit each other. This was really difficult for me as she was my favorite person in the world and I was used to spending every second with her when we both lived in upstate NY. Ariana got them both to start using SeekingArrangement for one time meet ups with Sugar Daddies where they were paid anywhere from $200-2000 for sex. “The first time I ever did it I walked out of the hotel and just screamed because I was so disgusted and I was thinking about his wrinkly skin touching mine and all I wanted to do was get in the shower and scrub it off but I had $1000 cash in my hand for a couple hours of work which was so crazy and kinda made it all worth it ya know?” - Ariana to me

I was immediately skeptical and a little grossed out but Kiara genuinely seemed happier. She was buying new clothes for herself, ordering food to the apartment when she was hungry, and taking trips into NYC to have fun with Ariana and her friends. By the beginning of the summer of 2019, Kiara had found the Sugar Daddy who she would establish a long term agreement with and who ultimately ended up completely supporting her. I’m not going to say his name here but if people want to know it just ask, I am willing to share. He moved her into a much nicer much bigger apartment with Ariana as her roommate. He paid for me to fly up and visit her, and all of our activities during this vacation. I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I wish I shoved the money back in her hand before it was too late, I wish I worked harder and longer hours and got us an apartment in Florida and paid both of our rent. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t listen to my instincts and allowed her to brush off my concerns. It was the most freedom we had ever had, I ran around NYC by myself while she was at work, and my ex took the bus to NJ from upstate NY and joined us for a few days. I feel so selfish but I also didn’t know how bad things would get.

One night Kiara and I went to NYC for dinner with her SD and she took the bus back to the apartment because she had to work early the next morning. It made sense for me to stay in the city because I was supposed to visit my friend at NYU the next morning. In the Uber to his apartment alone with him he was drunk and high and I very clearly looked scared shitless. At this point she was 19 (but she had looked that way since age 17 and I doubt he would have minded if she was lying about her age), I was 21 and he was 44. He seemed offended by my discomfort and was basically like “jeez relax I’m not gonna touch you, I really care about Kiara I think she’s so amazing, just go to the guest room and sleep, make a left to walk to NYU when you wake up.” I peaced the fuck out of there early the next morning.

After that summer Kiara and Ariana quit their jobs at the Korean salon and sugaring became their sole incomes. Ariana was still doing one time meet ups, not nearly as financially stable as Kiara, and got herself into a lot of credit card debt that to my knowledge she’s still in. At this point Kiara was flying down and staying with me in Florida so often that people at my college thought she went there too. I also wasn’t working at this point because college had gotten harder and my ex was fucking up my mental health real bad. He had given me a coke problem and Kiara sending me “grocery money” was enabling me to continue. I wasn’t honest with her about where all the money was going. During Halloween week we didn’t know that she couldn’t just snort molly (MDMA) with the frequency I was doing coke, she ODed, my guy best friend took us to the ER, it was so fucking scary, she got IV fluids for 2 hours and made a full recovery, she stopped doing molly, I kept doing coke. I’m so sorry :(

In November her SD paid for us to take a trip to Cancun Mexico. He was with us for the first part of the trip and this is where things started to get really bad. He tried to be my friend and act the way a boyfriend of my best friend who was my age would, but it was creepy and wrong and I was so uncomfortable. He asked about my drug use in a way that was gross and shamey and basically him seeing me as the “coke whore” stereotype...while continuing to buy me more coke. He also brought and gave us ecstasy pills. He asked really invasive questions about my relationship with my ex, why I stayed, my sex life, etc. It felt like an uncle asking me these questions, I did NOT wanna talk about any of this with him. But from what I did say it was very clear to someone with 44 years of life experience that I had an abusive mother, an addictive personality, and was in an unhealthy relationship. He offered to set me up with an SD friend of his looking for a sugar baby. I of course declined because I always knew this was a boundary I wasn’t willing to cross. No matter how bad my addictions got I would NOT give up that piece of myself in return for money.

In this part of Mexico, drugs that were only given with a prescription in the US were available over the counter. Kiara and I got a little box of 1mg Xanax with my money. My ex had given us Xanax a couple times in NY and we had fun with it, but at this point in time we did NOT have a problem with it. We had bought one bar, broken it in half, and each took half one night of Halloween week and called it “xanpires”, but this wasn’t something we were scripted or buying regularly from plugs. We went to dinner with her SD, we got up to go to the bathroom, and she immediately slipped and hit the ground. I was like woah did you take one of the xans and forget? Because we were supposed to tell each other if we were taking one so we could look out for each other. I was never mad at her! I never wanted money from her! I was just a little concerned, and once I determined that she was safe we thought it was kinda funny that she had taken a xan without realizing and started joking around about it. Her SD of course didn’t understand how a 19 year old and 21 year old girl joke with each other because he was a creepy old man, decided that we were “arguing”, and got up from the restaurant, walked across the street, bought a 90 count bottle of 2mg xans and gave it to me. This was honestly the most irresponsible way someone has ever treated me in my life, and this is coming from someone with an abusive and neglectful parent. Google “benzo withdrawal” if you’re not familiar with it.

We went to a different hotel, and Kiara and I both took xans and blacked out. I passed out on the guest bed, while Kiara was awake but in a conscious blackout. I woke up on the couch on the balcony (which was fine, it was comfy and I saw the sunrise over the beach. The gross part was that meant her SD had picked me up, put his hands on my body while I was unconscious and carried me out there). I remembered that at one point I had woken up, wanted to go to the bathroom or get something from inside, caught a glimpse of what I thought was them having sex, and went back outside. I mentioned it to Kiara and she had no memory of it whatsoever, she thought all she had done was gone to sleep. She was rightfully pissed the fuck off that her SD had taken advantage and done things with her while she was blacked, screamed at him, he gave us a half ass apology, and bought us more stuff (buying our silence). He finally flew home and we got to enjoy the trip with just each other, but I was careless with the dosage of a drug called tramadol, and I ODed with my head in her lap...I’m sorry. When I woke up I was hallucinating, hearing voices, crying hysterically and terrified. Kiara called my ex who asked how many mg I took, told us I was 100mg short of the amount that would require medical attention, made me laugh, and told me to go to sleep. I recognize how scary and unfair to her this was and I really do take responsibility for my actions. The day I was supposed to leave I did ecstasy, hooked up with a guy from Canada, and tried to skip my flight. She was mad because like yeah what the fuck. She got me on the flight, the ecstasy comedown hit, and there’s pictures of me crying in the airport because I hated when we fought.

I was supposed to stop in Miami, then fly back to my college town but while in Miami I texted my granny that I was “sad and really didn’t feel good and could she and my uncle visit me at the airport and bring my uncles dog?”. Her parenting instincts went off that something was very wrong, made me skip the flight, picked me up from the airport and took me to her house where I immediately threw up and ran an extremely high fever that night. She said it was one of the scariest nights of her life and she kept checking on me to see if I needed to go to the hospital. She drove me back to my college town where my guy best friend took me to the ER and it came out that Kiaras SD, in addition to giving me drugs, had also allowed me to drink Mexican tap water throughout the entire trip. I was treated for that + given chlamydia meds just in case since I’d had unprotected sex in a foreign country. I was fine, promised to do better, Kiara forgave me, things started to go back to normal. Except I had begun taking Xanax daily to deal with the anxiety of the illness...and she had a trip to Bali planned.

During that trip things managed to get even worse. She was there with her SD and another Korean friend and her SD was pressuring her and guilting her into sex, isolating her from her friend, going through her phone, and becoming extremely aggressive. She would call me crying and having panic attacks and I would walk out of class to try to comfort her over FaceTime. She did not have panic attacks before this trip. She begged to go home early because something was very wrong but he said it was a waste of money and kept her in Bali until the planned end of the trip. I think it was almost a month. She sent me a recording she secretly took of him screaming at her and her saying “don’t touch me, don’t grab me like that, leave me alone”. When she got back to the US I was begging her to stop. I was so worried for her safety. I said the money wasn’t worth it, we’ll get jobs, please just stop. I’m pretty sure he read those messages. We also had a suspicion that he had installed spyware on her phone but were never able to prove it. At this point I also reached out to my dad for help and his response was basically “I don’t care, not my problem, focus on school”. I reached out to my granny who absolutely cared, but her response was “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to support her, I have to focus on taking care of you, if she won’t stop this you’ll have to stop being friends with her”.

I went home to New York for winter break, suffered through my first round of Xanax withdrawal and was truly trying to get better but my ex manipulated his was back in my life and got me addicted again....but now this bottle of 90 had run out. I went back to my college town, got scripted, and was copping street bars when my script inevitably ran out early. What comes next is blurry for obvious reasons. We moved to the town in Florida my granny lived in and got an apartment together. The female friends she made in our town (my current home) she got most of them into sugaring and using SeekingArrangement. Things deteriorated super fast at this point. I was struggling hard, failing my online classes, and eventually got completely financially cut off by my parents. My granny was paying my half of the rent and my puppy’s vet bills but I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn’t afford groceries. Kiara was pressuring me hard to go on SeekingArrangement but I still refused. I would sit on the floor of the bathroom in a towel after I showered and just cry because the steam made me nauseous and dizzy since I wasn’t eating.

I met my current boyfriend and something just started to click: I didn’t wanna live like this anymore. The mom of a friend from this town who also refuses to sugar landed me an interview at the gym I currently work at, I fought for the job, and I got it. Now I knew I didn’t wanna be completely fucked up all the time anymore but I was still doing enough Xanax to keep me out of withdrawal. The 2mg that had blacked me out at the beginning were now just barely enough to keep me functional. Kiara and I were fighting frequently and bad by this time. She and her partner in sugaring, Mena (not her real name but pretty close to it, fuck this bitch fr) were expecting me to keep how they made their money a secret....from friends and guys that I saw every single day. They both very obviously did not work and were flexing new cars, designer clothes, and cash all over their social media. Kiara thought she could cover her ass by saying she dealt drugs but it was also obvious that she wasn’t putting the time into that to come up with the amount of money she had. The only one dealing drugs was me, and not enough to do anything flashy, just enough that in addition to my work money I was usually getting enough to eat. But there were still some times when the previous weeks paycheck had run out and I was having my first meal of the day at 3pm after someone had bought adderall from me. We had our serious serious fight where she threw my stuff in the lawn and I lived with my current boyfriend full time for about a couple weeks since my bedroom at my granny’s was getting refloored when this happened.

By January 20th he was concerned by my Xanax problem and wanted me to seriously try to stop. At the time I started tapering because I wanted the girlfriend title but I’m forever grateful for him giving me a reason, even if it was a shallow one, because I just needed to START. We tried to reconcile once, despite boyfriend and guy best friend begging me not to, and of course the same problems reappeared, we had another serious fight and haven’t spoken since.

Now the fog is clearing and today I’m 96 days clean of xanax, 16 days clean of all benzos, and 19 days clean of gabapentin (what was keeping me from having a seizure while quitting benzos). But it’s hard because being out of the fog means feeling all of my emotions, even the really bad ones. This past week I’ve been waking up and crying sitting in front of my mirror trying to put my makeup on for work and it just drips right off and I have to start over. She was my best friend for 8 years. My favorite person. My partner in life. I loved her more than anyone.

My boyfriend and guy best friend are pretty uncomfortable when they hear someone express an opinion of me that’s “Kiara’s side of the story” and I don’t correct it. Both of them saw exactly how bad it got near the very end and don’t get why I don’t defend myself more or tell people about her letting my dog eat dab (THC) wax while she was supposed to be watching her and having to be rushed to the animal hospital TWO separate times. (She’s a Pomeranian and the highly concentrated THC was super dangerous to her tiny little body). Yelling at me and giving me the silent treatment because less than 48 hours after my SA she expected me to drive her to a hair appointment in Miami and I woke up late and didn’t get her there on time with traffic. Me begging her to be there for me when it felt like everything was falling apart and I self harmed for the first time and her leaving me to go on a vacation to Orlando with a girl we didn’t even really like. Me not wanting to sleep in the apartment alone after my SA and her not letting me sleep in her bed anymore, her and Mena just dumping me at the neighbor’s so they could continue to sugar, party, and see guys our age at night (this sounds super awful but neighbors roommate —> current boyfriend. He kept me safe until I felt better, was really sweet and careful, and I was the one to make the first move). There’s more but I really don’t like talking about it, after the abuse she went through and I assume is still going through, I expect her to be pretty damaged and not have it in her to treat people right all the time. Not exposing every bad thing she’s ever done to all our mutual friends and acquaintances is kind of my last gift to her.

I also admit that sugaring wasn’t responsible for everything that went wrong. Loving an addict is difficult and exhausting and I went through it myself with my ex. I was also out bi and she was “probably straight, maybe a little bi-curious” in her words. But when she was drunk or on Xanax she’d kiss me first...we had done more than kiss but only during 3somes with a guy. I don’t know, I think I loved her more than I was supposed to and some of the stuff she’d say made me think she saw me in a way she really didn’t. When we first moved to this town I had a thing with a girl and expected it to be no big deal but things here were different than up north. I got called the d slur for the first time by someone who wasn’t joking. It was like getting slapped I was so shocked and hurt, I truly didn’t think that happened anymore. I think she saw what happened to me and kinda closed off that part of herself because she didn’t wanna experience that herself. She stopped making out with me at bars and parties after that and it made me sad and maybe a little jealous. But I really do blame her SD for basically “breaking her”, for handing me that first bottle of free Xanax, for a lot of other little things that I can’t possibly include because this is already way too long. This is my first time even saying this much. Feel free to add your own experiences or thoughts on this or anything you’d like. [I’m prepared to get death threats or called a SWERF or whatever but I don’t care, now that I started talking about this I’m not going to stop.]

#terf safe #terfs please touch #terfs please interact #radfem #radical feminists please touch #radical feminst #radical feminism #terf #swerfs please interact #swerf #anti prostitution #addiction #recovery #terfs do touch #sugardadddy

[clefairymuke]

daydream | chapter two

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: armin arlert x reader

themes: college/modern au, slowburn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut

tw: recreational drug use, drinking, explicit sexual content

word count: 1420

After a groggy and disoriented awakening on Jean's couch, you and Armin were in his car, stopping at the drive-through of a coffee shop. You were both in your clothes from last night; you glanced over at him from the passenger seat every now and then. His blond hair was messy, even spiked up in places, some of it falling into his tired eyes. The blue flannel shirt he had rolled up to his elbows the night before now hung loosely unbuttoned over a worn black t-shirt, extending to his wrists past the light blue bracelet that adorned one of them.

His voice, though drowsy, was still soothing and lilted as he recited your order from rote, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the steering wheel to the beat of the soft pop song radiating from the speakers. The air infiltrated the cool floral-scented atmosphere of the car, leaving you to breathe a mixture of that and the warm, dry air that populated the outside. You hoped it wasn't this dry at the beach.

The first drink of your coffee coaxed your eyes open as you tasted the sweet vanilla cream and bitter undertones. You watched as Armin sipped languidly from his own cup, one hand grasping it and the other draped over the top of the wheel. You weren't the biggest fan of driving, nor were you the best at it. It had become almost a given that he would be driving wherever the two of you went; you often joked about what you would do when the two of you no longer lived on the same campus.

That thought always seemed funny to you, in that you couldn't possibly imagine it. As long as you remembered, Armin was a constant positive force in your life. You were stuck to his side from the day you met, defeating the most terrifying of playground monsters and braving the toughest scholarship essays with a grip on his hand and a smile. Some would call the two of you codependent, but you called it love. Friendship that persisted over any amount of years was the purest form of love, in your opinion -- it's a person's first found family experience. And it was with that undeniable force that you loved him.

Your long-harbored romantic feelings for him aside, of course.

"Are your bags already packed?" he asked you, finally taking his lips from the coffee once it replenished his energy enough to carry a conversation.

You hummed affirmatively, checking the time on your phone and rolling your eyes at the white numbers that read 7:46. "We just have to stop by my building real quick. What time are we heading out?"

"Well," he began, putting his coffee into the cupholder and running his fingers through his hair in a failed attempt to straighten it out, "we were all supposed to leave at 8:30. But you know as well as I do that everyone didn't jump into action as soon as I woke them up this morning, so they'll probably head our way around noon. Me and you, though? We're grabbing our stuff and leaving now." He was grinning from ear to ear, thoughts of your time on the beach likely elating him. It would probably never stop being his favorite place.

The car slowed to a stop and Armin put it in park along the sidewalk that led to your building. The card scanner blinked red twice before it finally accepted you, the door swinging open to reveal many flights of stairs; luckily enough, you resided only on the second of ten floors. You entered the room, the smell of the half-eaten cheeseburger on Sasha's bedside table invading your nostrils. Your bags were stacked haphazardly atop your yellow-clad twin sized bed; Sasha's bags laid empty on the floor. At least it wasn't unexpected. You walked to your side of the room and dug some shorts and a tank top out of your drawers, changing into them and tossing last night's clothes into the laundry basket. You popped into the bathroom and threw your hair into a loose ponytail, then brushed your teeth, taking your toothbrush and tucking it into the side pocket of your backpack.

You quickly retrieved your luggage, dragging the one that rolled behind you as it clanged down the stairs loudly and embarrassingly. When you reached the door and opened it yet again, you saw Armin leaned against the open trunk of his crossover, phone in his hand and clearly playing some sort of game. He noticed you as the sound of your suitcase rolling across asphalt grew loud enough to catch his attention. His hand was soon extended out in front of you to take the two bags that hung from your left shoulder; you handed them to him, feeling the weight the large totes finally leave you. You loaded your rolling suitcase into the back, then returned to the front to reclaim your seat as coffee Armin shut the trunk.

The next stop was Armin's dorm; it was less than a mile from yours -- one of the more quaint buildings on campus, with only five floors in total. Unluckily enough, however, Armin lived all the way on the fifth. By the time he got back, you thought, you would need another coffee and maybe even some breakfast. You considered the options for breakfast within the immediate vicinity. The food was unmatched in college towns compared to normal cities of the same size. Any meal or craving you had, there was always something around to make you decently happy at the very least. You considered what Armin's choice would  be, your mind bouncing back and forth between iHop and Waffle House.

You figured this trip would be like the many that came before it; you and Armin would meet everyone there, all riding in Sasha's minivan to avoid paying parking for five separate vehicles. You would listen to endless amounts of music to fill the time, stopping every few hours or so to grab a snack and stretch your legs until the final stop at your home for the week finally came. You would all make plans to hit the beach or a seafood restaurant and fuck around for a while, before finally retiring for the night to get some rest before the tiring week ahead of you.

This time would be slightly different. You and Armin, at this rate, would be arriving around 4 that afternoon, while your friends wouldn't be there until the late evening. There would be four or so hours where the two of you could enjoy the vacation alone without the interruption or input of the others. You liked it that way, more often than not. You and Armin fell so frequently on the same page that it was difficult to disagree. Whatever was fun for one of you was always enjoyable for the other. You theorized that you would change straight into your swimsuits and catch the beach in the evening when it was a bit cooler and less crowded, then find a place to eat dinner. You doubted your friends would still want to go out after such a late drive. Afterwards, you would return to the house to wait on everyone, maybe having a drink or turning on a movie for a while. It sounded peaceful enough.

You saw Armin leaving the building, now dressed in a colorful short-sleeve button up and what you assumed were swimming trunks, as you doubted he owned any shorts with little blue fish covering them. He was wearing dark aviator sunglasses and flip flops, his previously messy hair now brushed down -- it was still messy, but in an on-purpose way. You watched as he carried both a suitcase and a woven beach bag that held several Arlert-approved essentials such as sunscreen and large, tie-dyed beach towels. You giggled a bit at his excitement, as if it were anything new. The beach turned him into no more than a child, the sparkle in his eyes never dying until the drive home.

He loaded his things into the back carefully before returning to the driver's side and pulling the door open. He practically jumped into the car and buckled his seatbelt, eyeing you to buckle yours as well. You obliged, and he reached for the radio, turning on more of the soft bedroom pop he so often listened to.

"You ready?" he asked as he put the car into drive, a smile on his face.

#armin #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin x you #armin arlet #armin aot #AoT #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot fic #armin smut #armin fluff #college au #modern au #slowburn #friends to lovers #snk #snk x reader #snk fic #shingeki no kyojin #mutual pining

[yeosangsleftbicep]

sand, salt, and tears

series information:

pairing: Johnny x reader, Jaehyun x reader

summary: You have a boring job at the beach for the summer, but one day your life is spiced up after meeting a handsome lifeguard named Johnny and all of his friends.

genre: lifeguard au, summertime romance

warnings/themes: alcohol, drugs, (eventually maybe) smut, fluff, second-lead syndrome (?), angst, love-triangles, jealousy

"I’m here to help, you’re gonna be okay."

Ch.1

warnings: blood (small injury), swearing

word count: 2.1k

next chapter >>

You never intended for the summer between your sophomore and junior years of college to be packed with hard work and stress. In fact, you thought that having a part-time job in a beach town would be quite the opposite. That it would be full of seasonal flings, sunburns, and plenty of time relaxing on the beach enjoying your sappy romance novels. Instead, your absolute bitch of a boss, Cindy, had you working 35 hours a week wiping tables and taking orders, sometimes even being a substitute bartender if it was a busy night. Luckily for you, your best friend Karina also decided to take the plunge into the world of summer waitressing with you, and the two of you had almost every shift together. But still, you would much rather be stretched out underneath the sun right now than punching your 100th order of the morning into the restaurant’s computer system. You sigh aloud at the thought of the salt water lapping at the shore, seagulls flapping around while the local surf rock station plays quietly on the radio in the sand next to you.

“Y/N!!” an obnoxious voice shouts, shaking you out of your seashore reverie. Your eyes refocus just in time to see Cindy storming towards you in anger, her eyes scrunched with a fury that only ever comes out when you’ve messed up. “You’ve been standing there for 2 minutes doing nothing,” she hisses through her teeth. “Pull yourself together. You only have a half hour left on your shift, and then you’re free to be as useless as you want.”

“Sorry,” you mumble under your breath, holding back a sarcastic retort to the last part of Cindy’s criticism. You punch the order into the system and sweep yourself back into the dining room to do rounds and check on the tables that you’ve already served food to.

---

True to her word, Cindy released you from hell 30 minutes later. As quickly as possible, you strip off your apron and change into one of your favorite blue bikinis in the employee bathroom, wanting to hit the beach as soon as possible. You find Karina waiting outside the restaurant in her white Jeep Wrangler, roof and doors removed for the warm summer weather. On the rare days when the two of you don’t share a shift, this is always your routine. Karina picks you up at the end of your 2 o’clock shift and drives the two of you to the beach where you spend the next four hours basking in the sun and body-boarding in the water.

Today is no different, and the two of you soon find yourselves spreading out your towels and slathering yourselves in sunscreen, preparing for an afternoon of the reason you truly came to the small beach town this summer: relaxing. After an hour or so of sunbathing and reading some rather spicy parts of your latest romance novel, you and Karina decide it’s time for a dip in the ocean. “Hey, Y/N, go check what the water temperature is so we can mentally prepare ourselves before turning into popsicles in the ocean,” Karina giggles, gesturing towards the nearest lifeguard stand. You nod in agreement and make your way over to the back of the tall white chair where information such as water temperature and high tide is usually posted. As you near the stand however, you notice that instead of temperatures and warnings, someone had written the words ‘Ask me!’ over the chalkboard.

You glance up at the lifeguard to try and catch their eye, but an umbrella has been propped sideways to block a northward wind, preventing you from being able to see the person sitting there. “Excuse me!” you shout, hand shielding your eyes from the sun as you make your way around to the front of the stand. “Is everything okay?” a gentle voice responds. The lifeguard, a rather lanky, handsome man with black hair brushing the top of his ears, leans over. “Everything’s fine,” you respond with a timid smile. “I was just wondering what the water temperature is?”

The man’s form visibly relaxes as he realizes that there was no emergency and you just wanted some information. “Oh! Yeah, the temperature is 67°,” the lifeguard responds.

“Okay, thank you!” you shout, turning away to walk back to where Karina was waiting.

“Wait! Are you planning on boarding at all?” he asks, forcing you to turn around. He glances over at Karina and the boogie boards lying on the sand next to her while she watches us.

“Um, yeah. Is that okay?” you respond, placing your hands on your hips.

“Of course, of course! You should just know that there’s some serious undertow and a pretty strong rip current in this area today. If you get pulled out just swim parallel to the beach to get back in or signal if you need help,” he smiles helpfully.

“Oh. Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay,” you nod. “I’ve been coming to this beach and boarding since I was a little kid.”

The lifeguard just shrugs and sits down, but you can feel his eyes on you and Karina as the two of you grab your boards and dive into the frigid waves. Unfortunately for you, the lifeguard was quite right about the strong currents, and you spent half of your time in the water struggling to not be dragged down the entire length of the beach. After about a half hour of unsuccessfully attempting to catch some waves, Karina sighs and starts to swim in. “Maybe tomorrow will be better conditions. Neither of us are working so we can be out here all day if you want,” she exclaims, always the optimist. “Ok,” you reply. “I’m going to stay out here a little longer and then head in. Do you mind taking my board?”

You un-velcro the strap from your wrist and push the board towards Karina for her to drag it onto the sand. As soon as you let go of the board, you begin to realize just how much you were relying on it to keep you afloat in the strong current, especially considering you aren’t in an area where you can touch the bottom. After just a couple of minutes of treading water, you decide to follow Karina’s idea and begin to swim towards the shore. Karina sees you making her way towards her, but she waves her hands and shouts, pointing to the ocean behind you. A quick glance tells you that there’s a massive wave just seconds away from crashing on your head. “Shit,”  you curse, turning around and bracing yourself to be pommeled. Had you been farther out, you might have been given the chance to dive under the wave as it crested, but you were in the exact area that, when the wave finally arrived, the only thing you could do was take a deep breath and hope for the best.

As the wave crashes around you and catches you in it’s white waters, you tuck your knees into your chest, feeling yourself bounce around, your shins catching the sharp shells and rocks being thrown around you. After what feels like forever, you finally resurface, gasping for breath and a little red-faced from the embarrassment of wiping out, but still alive. And yet, something felt weird. As you catalogue your surroundings, you notice that you are farther from the shore than you were when you went under. Much farther. You try to plant your feet on the sand beneath you, but instead begin to sink below the surface. Having been tired out from fighting the waves for the past hour, you begin to panic, forgetting everything that the lifeguard had just told you about swimming out of rip currents.

In your own panicking and splashing around, you fail to notice someone swimming towards you. Someone wearing red swimming trunks with a bright orange buoy tied around their waist. When the lifeguard finally reaches you, he grabs your wrist to place your hand on the float, causing you to scream out in surprise, still not realizing that someone was there to save you.

“Shhh, shhhh calm down it’s okay,” the lifeguard says, reaching for your hand again. “I’m here to help, you’re gonna be okay.”

You try your hardest to hold in your tears as you grip onto the lifeguard’s buoy, but you feel like you can barely breath from the panic that you just experienced. You squeeze the orange plastic so tightly that your knuckles turn white, something that the lifeguard is quick to notice. “You’re going to be okay,” he once again reassures you. “What’s your name?” he asks in a soothing voice.

After a few deep gasps, you’re able to get out, “Y/N.”

The man smiles. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Johnny. I’m going to get you back to solid ground, okay? But I’m going to need you to stay calm for me, okay? Or else it’s going to be a lot harder for me.”

Unable to respond, you just rapidly shake your head, eager to have your feet touching the earth again. Johnny places one of his hands on the other side of the buoy, and uses his right arm to begin towing you back towards the shore. In no time, the water grows lighter as you and Johnny cut through the water, eventually reaching an area where you can once again stand. “Are you okay?” he asks, turning towards you with a worried sound to his voice. You once again nod, embarrassed to meet his eyes and not trusting your voice to be stable if you spoke.

Johnny gives you a once over, his eyes lingering on your knee. You follow his gaze and notice that during the wave, a shell must have gashed your leg open, and a steady flow of blood is now streaming through the cut on your knee. “Why don’t you come up to my stand and let me check that out?” Johnny asks, although it comes out as more of a command. “O-Okay,” you whisper. He places a steadying hand on your back and guides you up the sand to where Karina is waiting for you. “Oh. My. God,” Karina shrieks, seeing the injury on your leg. “She’ll be fine,” Johnny comments to her. “I just want to clean and bandage the cut to make sure that it doesn’t get infected.”

He guides you to sit down on a foldable chair at the base of the lifeguard stand while he climbs up to get a medical kit. “This might sting a bit,” Johnny apologizes in advance, opening the bag to pull out an alcohol wipe. “It’s okay, I can handle it,” you grimace.

“Just like you said you can handle the ocean?” Johnny asks, looking up with a small grin. “Sorry, too soon.”

“For your information,” you begin. “I would ordinarily be able to deal with that wave, no problem. I just wasn’t ready.”

“Mm-hm. I’m sure,” Johnny nods sarcastically.

“Hey,” you frown. “You don’t know me well enough to be making fun of me- HOLY SHIT THAT HURTS!”

You glance down to see Johnny dabbing at the wound on your leg with the cleansing cloth. “Sorry,” he grimaces. “I did try to warn you.”

Johnny goes to wipe at the cut again, another wave of pain rolling over you. You involuntarily reach out to squeeze the closest thing, which happens to be Johnny’s bare back as he’s bent over your knee. “Jesus, woman,” Johnny swears, pulling away as your nails dig into his skin in pain. Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry!” you squeak. He sucks air in quickly through his teeth as he glances over his shoulder to look at the scratches you left on him. “I normally have to buy someone a few drinks before I get them to mark me like that,” he chuckles, turning his attention back to your leg, which he begins to cover with a bandage.

Your cheeks color a bright red at the suggestive comment, although luckily Johnny doesn’t glance up at that moment to see your embarrassment.

“There. All done,” Johnny says, gently patting your knee and standing up. “The next time I tell you to watch out for the rip, listen to me,” he orders, raising an eyebrow at me. “Yessir,” you say seriously, giving him a sarcastic little salute. Johnny’s grins. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you around, Johnny,” you respond, slowly limping your way back to Karina.

next chapter >>

a/n: Please like if you enjoyed it so I know whether to keep writing!

#nct #nct127 #127squad #johnny #Johnny suh #jaehyun #taeyong #doyoung #haechan #jungwoo #taeil #mark #mark lee #mork #mork lee #johfam #nct dream #nct u #renjun #chenle #jeno #yuta #hello future #lovaholic #nct au #nct lifeguard au #sand salt and tears #nct 127 au #nct smut #nct 127 smut

[izzielizzie]

Footnotes in the Story of Your Life

Nancy Drew never wanted to move from everything she knew in New York to an unwelcoming town in Maine, and she secretly refuses to enjoy her upcoming final year of high school, but that might not even happen when she and four Horseshoe Bay natives - Bess Marvin the socialite, Ace the stoic son of a single mother, George Fan the town foster child/screw up, and Ned Nickerson HBPD’s favorite ex-con - are accused of attempted murder. Nancy’s startled - when she said she wanted something interesting to happen she didn’t mean this - but soon she starts to notice that not everything is as it seems here (AU).

Title from “Tolerate It” by Taylor Swift

Nancy’s mother finds her sitting on her bed on the first day of summer with a framed photograph in her hands. Kate Drew softens at the sight of her daughter, her usually perfect posture long forgotten as she wilts into the bed.

“Nance,” she says quietly, and Nancy instantly looks up, her face crumpling. Kate crosses the bare room to sit next to her only daughter, wrapping a secure arm around her shoulder. “Moving must be hard, huh?” For the past month, the family of three had been packing up their New York home in River Heights, loading things into trucks as their friends came by with endless casseroles and ceramic dishes they didn’t know what to do with. Nancy, as social as her mother before her, had drawn into herself more and more as she made her goodbyes. 

“Liven up Nance,” Carson, Kate’s husband and Nancy’s father had said not too long ago as they ate the tuna casserole Helen Coring - Nancy’s best friend - had brought earlier that day as they put the contents of Nancy’s room into a U Haul truck. “We’re moving to River Heights Drive. Not that much of a change, right?”

Nancy had spent the rest of the night glaring at her father, resenting his audacity, and Kate had taken over with the reassurances. 

“Yeah. I just hate the idea that I’m missing senior year.”

“Well, you’re not missing it per say. You’re still going to school here.”

Nancy looks at the picture of her, Helen, and another friend named Burt at the junior prom, their arms around each other. Nancy sighs. She considers launching into a tirade about how New York and Maine are very different places and no she is missing school, the important parts at least, but she knows that this move is hard on her mother too, so she refrains. “I guess so,” she says, reluctantly putting the picture on the stand she had placed next to her bed. 

Kate kisses the top of Nancy’s head. “Good. Now why don’t you explore and I’ll see what casserole I can heat up.”

“Ugh Mom,” Nancy says, already grinning as she pulls her blue raincoat from one of the boxes on the floor in front of her.

 Nancy’s wanderings lead her to a small seafood restaurant with a great view of the Atlantic. Nancy’s not used to being this close to large bodies of water, and it’s making her a little nauseous. Her father, a native of Boston, assures her that she’ll get over the salt air smell, but Nancy’s not so sure. 

She looks up at the claw shaped sign, creaking eerily on its pole. The Bayside Claw Nancy reads. What a fitting name. And a fitting sign. Nancy’s about to turn and keep walking, since she’s not a big seafood person, but she sees a handful of well dressed men enter the restaurant. Nancy’s spent enough time in New York City to know when a well dressed person is just fashion conscious, or when they’re rich and up to something. These men are definitely the latter. Nancy pauses for a few moments to make sure that the men have had the time to settle, since she locked eyes with a young man with sandy blond hair and the beginnings of a goatee, and she doesn’t want him to think she’s following him.

Nancy is an unnecessarily paranoid person. 

She pushes through the doors of the restaurant and is nearly mowed over by a person the moment she steps into the dining area. “Whoah, I’m sorry,” she says, stepping back in time to see a woman with long black hair and an oversized cardigan stagger backwards, clearly discombobulated by well… everything. 

“Ugh, Victoria,” A girl about Nancy’s age in a green uniform grumbles. She catches sight of Nancy. “Sorry about that ma’am,” the waitress says, reaching down to haul the woman (presumably Victoria) off the ground. The waitress pushes Victoria out of the door that’s still held open by Nancy. “Go be drunk somewhere else!” The waitress - whose name tag reads George - turns to Nancy. “Can I help you?” 

Nancy freezes, not quite sure why to say she’s here now that she’s been spotted by this rather vocal waitress when she’s saved by another waitress, this time in yellow. 

“George, Mr. Hudson wants us to give his wife food,” the waitress says in a posh British accent. She’s holding a wobbly plate of fish and salad in one hand. 

George turns from Nancy to the new waitress, annoyance crossing her face. “Well what do you want me to do? Roll it onto a cart for her? Go bring it outside!”

“Mr. Hudson left his wife outside?” Nancy asks, without thinking. 

“Yeah, that fellow over there,” the waitress in yellow points to the sandy haired man Nancy had tailed into here. 

“And that fellow is both incredibly rich and able to give us a boost and my foster dad so maybe you should shut up and give Tiffany her food,” George snaps. Both Bess and Nancy flush. 

“Sorry,” Bess mumbles, stepping away and around Nancy to slip through the front door. Nancy’s a little jostled when Bess passes her, and she spins a little, turning towards the kitchen. She catches sight of a young man in a colorful Hawaiian shirt ringing the bell to signify an order. They lock eyes - ice blue on sky - and Nancy feels a wave of déjà vu pass over her, but she shakes it off. She turns back to George, who’s still looking at her, waiting for Nancy to say something. 

Finally, Nancy makes up her mind. If she’s going to be stuck in this tiny town she might as well do something to occupy her time. “Are you hiring?”

George looks her over. “Are you new here?”

Oh. So it’s that kind of tiny town. “Yes, my family just moved here.”

George nods. “Right. Well, we could always use a new waitress. We had one leave for college and Bess isn’t the brightest so…” George trails off, cocking her head. “Do you hear that?”

Both Nancy and George tilt their heads towards the front door of the restaurant, where they can hear muffled shouting. Both girls look at each other for a moment before Nancy spins and pushes the door open. George is hot on her heels, and after a few moments, a third pair of feet joins them. Nancy turns to see shaggy blond hair under a black cap and knows that it’s the boy from behind the counter.

Nancy stops suddenly when she sees Bess standing over a body, shock on her face. “Omph,” Nancy says as both George and the other guy come barreling into her. She stumbles, and George catches her around the waist. Nancy opens her mouth to ask the very obvious question hanging in the air- 

“Bess? What happened?” a decidedly male voice asks, taking the words straight from Nancy’s mouth. She looks up to see a tall boy with cocoa skin exiting a blue truck parked a foot behind Bess, the body, and the sleek car looming over the person Nancy can only assume is Mrs. Hudson. 

A strangled cry escapes George, and she rushes forward, dropping to her knees next to the woman. “Help her!” George says, looking up at the four of them as she lifts Mrs. Hudson’s head to rest on her knees. She cradles it in her hands like an injured bird. 

“What happened?” the Hawaiian shirt boy repeats. Bess is sobbing now. 

“I turned to go back to the restaurant and all of a sudden she cried out and fell! I don’t know!” 

Nancy, still not quite sure what in the world is happening, crouches next to George and Mrs. Hudson. She lifts one of Mrs. Hudson’s hands, feeling her wrist for a pulse. 

“She’s not dead,” she says as sirens come wailing towards them.

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy, Bess, George, and the two boys are sitting in the hospital waiting room with Mr. Hudson, George leaning against Mr. Hudson’s shoulder.

“The Hudsons have been her foster parents for the longest out of any of her homes,” Bess says, leaning over to whisper in Nancy’s ear. Nancy smiles at her. “I remember what it’s like being new. I only moved in with my aunt here in Horseshoe Bay last month. I used to live in London. I’m Bess by the way.”

“Nancy,” Nancy says.

“Welcome. Where did you live before?”

“New York.”

“City?”

“State.”

“Oh that’s nice. I love the city, did you go often?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Nancy says as the waiting room doors swing open. She’s startled to see a man in a uniform striding towards their little group. He’s probably in his thirty or forties, and he’s got a no nonsense look on his face. 

“Are you the people found at the scene of the crime?” he asks in lieu of greeting. 

“Woah, woah, crime?” Mr. Hudson asks, standing up, startling George, who had been dozing on his shoulder. 

The officer turns to Mr. Hudson solemnly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “There was poison found in your wife’s system, Mr. Hudson, which means that someone had attempted to kill her.”

Everyone turns to Bess, except Mr. Hudson and the officers. 

Mr. Hudson stares at the officer for a moment before sinking into his seat, a look of genuine fear on his face. “Who would want to kill Tif?”

“Not me I swear!” Bess cries, latching on to Nancy’s arm. Nancy gently pries her fingers off her arm.

The officer shakes his head, ignoring the distraught waitress. “I’m not sure sir, but it’s our job to figure it out. Why is why I need to speak to these five.”

They all look at Mr. Hudson: Nancy, George, Bess, and the two boys whose names Nancy still doesn’t know. But Mr. Hudson’s face is ashen, like he’s going into shock. The officer motions at the young people. “Come along.”

The five of them look at each other uncertainly before standing and following the officer into the hall. Nancy catches sight of his badge: Chief E. O. McGinnis. 

Now, Nancy, being the daughter of a lawyer, should know her rights, and the right to remain silent is the biggest one, especially since she’s a minor, but she’s too confused and terrified to think straight. 

She’s being investigated for attempted murder. Attempted murder. God her mother’s going to kill her. 

The unlikely five line up against the wall. Chief McGinnis paces in front of them. “Alright. I’m looking at an ex-con,” he pauses in front of the guy from the truck. “The town screw up,” (this time he’s in front of George). “A city girl,” he’s in front of Bess now, who looks rather guilty in Nancy’s opinion. He moves to the fancy shirt guy standing next to Nancy. “An HBPD legacy and Nancy Drew.”

Except, that’s not what he says.

He pauses in front of Nancy, and tilts his head at her. “Who are you again?”

Nancy stares at him as the weird feeling of déjà vu hits her again. No. That’s not right. He knows who she is. 

But she doesn’t know who he is. 

Nancy feels her hands start to shake. Everything here is wrong. She should be sitting at the police station. She should know what’s happening. But she doesn’t because she’s being accused of attempted murder. 

But it shouldn’t be attempted. Nancy slides down the wall, her hands pulling at her skin where she can feel the ghost of a locket. 

My mother’s gonna kill me she thinks. But no, her mom’s dead. And Ryan isn’t George’s foster dad. He’s her dad.

This isn’t right.

This isn’t ri-

“Okay just give her space.” 

When Nancy comes to, she’s looking up into the face of the boy who had been working at the Bayside Claw. Nancy’s laying on the ground, her head against the cold tile. The boy gently slips an arm under her shoulders, helping her to sit up.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

Nancy doesn’t know the answer to that. He can tell, so he tries a different question. “What’s your name?”

“Nancy Drew,” she croaks. He smiles.

“Hi Nancy Drew. My name is Ace Hardy.”

“Hi,” Nancy mumbles back.

“And that’s Nick,” Ace says, pointing to the boy from the truck who’s hovering on the outskirts of the circle of people around her. “I hear you’ve met the girls.”

Nancy nods and Ace gently slips his other arm under her knees, lifting her up in his arms like she weighs nothing. He walks her towards the waiting room, talking as he goes. “That, Nancy, was a panic attack. Have those often?”

Nancy leans her pounding head against his muscular shoulder. “No.”

“Well, first time for everything. Got anyone we can call?”

“My dad,” she mumbles. Ace nods to Bess, who rushes forward with her phone out. Nancy recites her father’s number, and Bess puts it to her ear.

“Hello? Hi, yes, this is Bess Marvin. I’m calling about your daughter. She’s in the hospital, she had a panic attack.” Bess is quiet for a moment. “Nancy Drew, yes.” After a moment, Bess rattles off directions and hangs up. 

Ace puts Nancy down on a chair next to Mr. Hudson. Nancy looks at him sideways. She’s about to say something to him when suddenly - as if her brain has been reset or something - she forgets what she was going to say.

“Want some water Nancy?” Ace asks. Nancy smiles at the unfamiliar boy. 

“Yes, please,” she says. He stands and heads to the water cooler, Bess taking his spot. “What did the officer mean by Ace is a legacy?”

“Oh, that,” Bess says sadly. “Ace’s father was a Captain on the police force. He was in a chase once when Ace was a child. His car got hit, and he didn’t make it.”

“That’s so sad,” Nancy says. 

“I know,” Bess agrees. “His mother is all he has. She’s a librarian, but she doesn’t make a lot of money. They just get by with her salary and the pension from the state. That’s why Ace turned down MIT. To work at The Claw.”

“That must be so hard,” Nancy says. She can’t imagine giving up her dream of going to Columbia. 

“It is,” Bess agrees as the doors to the waiting room are pushed open. Nancy sees her father and mother being trailed by an annoyed McGinnis.

“You can’t just take a suspect home! She has to be fingerprinted! She has to give her statement!”

Carson turns on McGinnis. “Excuse me, but my daughter is a minor and she’s had a panic attack.”

“We’re taking her,” Kate adds. She spots Nancy and rushes to her, crouching to put her hands on either side of her daughter’s face. “Nancy, baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Okay, we’re taking you home, don’t worry, Mom’s here.”

It’s a simple statement, and normally Nancy would complain that it makes her sound like a child, but it relaxes her nonetheless. She slumps into her mom, letting the exhaustion and confusion sink over her. 

Kate runs her fingers through her red hair as Carson argues with McGinnis, who finally relents. 

“Fine, fine, you all can go if Drew is going. But I expect you back at the station at eight am sharp.”

Nancy is pulled to her feet by her mother, and before she moves, she puts a hand on Mr. Hudson’s shoulder. “Your wife will get better sir,” she says. Mr. Hudson puts his hand over hers. 

“Thanks.”

Nancy waves goodbye to everyone else before following her parents. As she falls asleep in the back seat of her dad’s car, all she can think is that something about this entire night is off. 

#cw nancy drew fanfiction #nancy drew #ace #bess marvin #george fan #nick nickerson #au #queued

[sylvie-writes]

Bad (2): What Happened?

First inspired by this song ➳ Bad by Lennon Stella

(Ransom Drysdale x wife reader)

Summary: What went down that fateful night...

A/n: I got carried away, and kinda forgot about the real plot lol. So there’s more fluff than angst... I think. 

Disclaimer: this chapter is sort of a filler before we get to the real shiz. 

Warnings: Cheating, mild profanity, poor writing. Ransom being an asshole (rip all the soft Ransom stories I’ve written)

As always, plz pardon any mistakes, the stories are always proofread but I tend to make many mistakes regardless.

Series Masterlist 

Picking up from where we last left off: About two months ago, your work gave its employees a week off for the holidays. It was once in a blue moon that you got to see your family, so you seized this opportunity. You wished your husband could have come, but Ransom had to stay behind to help Harlan with an upcoming novel. In truth, Ransom never saw himself reverting back to his bad ways, but who knows what entices people to change… 

They always say to choose a job that you love. Something even your own parents had drilled into your head as a young child, trying to prevent you from their own mistakes. It was known then, that if you chose a job you didn’t love, you would be metaphorically chained like a prisoner bound to the wall, or in your case, the job. 

Well, you followed their advice, and chose a job you were passionate about, something you didn’t mind studying about all those years ago in college. It’s not that you didn’t love your job, but you were tired, very tired. Life was fast paced and you were running out of fuel, so to say. So this morning when your work offered you an exclusive week off, you took the offer, worked quickly yet precisely, and flew out the door, before it was dark. Normally, you’d work more than the normal 9-5 shift, it was more like 9-7 for you, anyway.

Ransom was supposedly off today, and you wanted nothing more than to kick off your break, by eating a nice lunch with your husband. While you gave your holiday wishes to your friends, you shot Ransom a quick text asking him to call you. 

So, just as you drove down the highway, your phone steaming your favorite playlist to the car’s stereo, Ransom’s name popped up on the large screen, a picture of him in college, showing up. (yeah, you liked to tease him about his college years, when he thought he was all that and a bag of chips.) 

“Hey Gorgeous! What’s up?”

“Well… you interrupted my carpool karaoke.”

Your husband laughed along with you, before you dropped your surprise on him.

“Other than that, my work gave me the week off. No biggie though.” 

Being married to Ransom and having known him for many years, has given you a real sense of sarcasm to say the least.

“That’s amazing! You deserve it, my love.”

“Ohh, quit trying to butter me up, Ran.”

More laughter from his end, making a large grin grow on your face. Only you could ever make Ransom laugh at the stupidest things, that’s just the kind of bond you two shared. 

“Anyhoo, I was wondering if you wanted me to come pick you up for lunch?”

“Sounds great, love ya.”

“Love you too.” The rest of the drive to your house was enjoyable. Today had been spectacular, something that hadn’t happened in ages. As you continued to drive, all the amazing occurrences from today settled with you in the car, a permanent smile on your face the whole way.  

You pulled into the driveway, opting to stay in the car just to keep the warm air flowing from the vents, sending Ransom a quick text.

A few minutes later, the man himself came out, his brown suede trench coat on, your own raspberry pea coat slung over his left arm. 

The passenger door popped open, and Ransom’s warm lips pressed slowly against your cheek, instantly warming you up.

“I figured you might be cold.”

A deep laugh resonated in his stomach as he reached over the console to hand you the jacket, the one you had forgotten this morning. 

“Thanks, hon. So, where do you want to eat?”

You looked over to Ransom, whose eyes had been lovingly glued to you since he’d gotten in the car.

“How about that little sandwich shop in town?”

A bright and sweet smile graced your lips, stunning Ransom with its effect on him. His own eyes crinkling up as his frowning lips slowly formed into a content smile.

Once you had reached town about twenty minutes later, Ransom rushed out of the car the minute you had stopped the engine. His actions leaving you confused when suddenly a blurb of tan suede halted and revealed the missing man, who was now pulling your door open.  

“Wow Mr. Drysdale, since when did you become such a gentleman.”

You teased Ransom, wrapping your arm around his, embracing his warmth, and playfully kissing his nose. 

“Since you became Mrs. Drysdale.” 

His little quip caught you off guard as you weren’t expecting a response from the man. As a result of that surprise, your cheeks slightly warmed, causing you to shyly look down. It was a given, what had just happened, as Ransom knew your reactions like the back of his hand. 

That arrogant jerk knew very well what he had done and slightly leaned over to kiss your bowed head.

Confidently, Ransom spoke up, and without even looking over at him, you just knew he was smirking. 

“Still have that effect on you, huh?” 

Before you could banter back at him, your arm interlocked with Ransom’s was tugged, prompting you to look up. 

Apparently, when you were just mindlessly walking to the restaurant, Ransom had another stop on his list. One full of eye-catching flower bouquets. Blood red roses, yellow lilies, variegated tulips, you name it, they littered the glass window of the flower shop. 

As you stepped into the shop, the distinctive smell of baby’s breath filled your senses. You were still interlocked with Ransom, so at this point wherever he walked, you went. Also meaning he’d dragged you to the counter despite your words of defiance.

“Ransom, you don’t need to buy me anything. All I want is to eat lunch, with my husband.”

“And that you’ll get.”

Just when you’d thought you’d won this argument, the man continued.

“Along with the bouquet of carnations and baby’s breath please.

Your husband spoke up just a bit louder, so the man behind the counter could hear his order while also making it known to you that you were indeed gonna accept these flowers. 

Ransom quickly paid for the bouquet, coming back to lock arms with you and hand you the flowers. It was a simple bouquet yet the meaning behind the choice a lot stronger. Coral carnations ideally intermixed with the snow-white baby’s breath. The soft aroma from earlier, now in a bouquet held by your cold hands. 

When you were young, your grandmother would always buy carnations for her home, specifically the coral ones. She’d tell you about each flower and how they were all unique, capturing your curiosity. As you got older, you became more versed in floral design and structure. Soon, you were going every other day to buy fresh carnations for your grandmother. When you had first brought Ransom to meet her, she told him about the story behind carnations and when you were always buying them. 

To this day, Ransom remembers, and the carnations have since then become your flower.

If it weren’t for the constant wind, the temperature would have been enjoyable, but now your hands were slightly shaking and Ransom noticed. Taking your free hand in his, he then put your conjoined hands in his coat pocket.

Just a few more blocks and you had finally made it to the humble little sandwich shop, one Ransom had actually introduced to you. 

Mr. Miller, the owner of the shop happily greeted you both. Over the years you’ve lived in Massachusetts, you and Ransom have become regulars at this shop. It may have been a small place, with seating for only thirty people, yet the food was outstanding. Especially Mr. Miller’s Monte Cristo, your’s and Ransom’s favorite. To no surprise, that is in fact what you ended up ordering. 

As you sat at the booth, the two of you laughing and enjoying the time spent with each other, never once did it cross your mind that this was it. That this was not gonna be the normal anymore. It’d become a memory you’d end up savoring for the years of the future.

Because little did you know, that was the last time he’d ever buy you flowers, the last time he’d ever laugh with you…

The last time he’d ever really love you. 

That very next day, you woke up early to pack your bags for the unbearable flight to come. You absolutely hated the airport, but then again, who doesn’t? It was a constant marathon and by time you make it to all your gates, you’d probably lose ten pounds from running so much. There was no peace at the airport, especially with the holiday rush and you dreaded it. If only your husband could have come, it would make things ten times better, but he can’t and you aren’t going to miss this opportunity. It’s been a few years since you’ve been able to go home, and truly relax for the holidays. The years before, you’d only get to spend the weekend, but now you have the whole week and in the end, it’d be worth the living hell at the airport. 

By 10:00 am, you were all ready to go, Ransom carrying the bags to your car, sulking as he did so. He really wanted to go with you. Believe it or not, but Ransom would love to spend all his time with you if he could, except Harlan really needed his help to finish up a few things. 

With everything packed, it finally came time for you to bid goodbye. Sure, it was a week away, but this was your first Christmas as a married couple, and you couldn’t spend it together. Had things been different, you could have, but Ransom understood you missed your family. For once in his life, Ransom Drysdale thought about someone else’s benefit beside his own. 

The car running, you flung your arms around Ransom, who stood at the door, coffee in hand, balancing it as he reciprocated the hug.

He could feel your tears on his neck, running through his sweatshirt. Your head was buried in the crevice, and your sobs made his heart shatter. Ransom couldn't bear it anymore, because soon he’d be the one crying. A warm hand, ran up and down your back while soothing whispers rang in your ear.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay.”

Your sobs that racked your body soon ceased, Ransom pulling back to give you his best attempt at a smile. His eyes worriedly scanned over your red ones before pulling you into a soothing kiss. Releasing your lips, Ransom once again gave you a comforting smile, handing you the coffee, knowing you had forgotten your own. 

“Go on, you’re gonna be late, my love.”

On tippy toes, you pressed your lips to the corner of Ransom’s, slowly leaning away, then solemnly heading to your car. 

That night, you had called Ransom, telling him you made it safely and that you’d facetime him tomorrow. In his voice, Ransom hid his sorrow, but in truth, ever since you left this morning, he’d been wallowing in despair. What better way to drown out your sorrows than to actually do that? So just as Ransom hung up the phone, he dashed to the car and to the nearest bar, slowly easing the pain via eight beers. 

Just about to ring up the bartender for a check, a small, womanly hand slowly wrapped around his forearm, setting it back down on the counter.

“Hey stranger.”

Ransom was so intoxicated, he struggled to even focus, but all he knew was that a woman was sitting in front of him and he sure was missing his wife. It was wrong, but at that moment, his priorities blurred the minute the girl’s lips smothered his. There weren’t boundaries anymore and he knew damn well, that this lady was making his thoughts and good judgement dissipate, he forgot why he was even there in the first place. Right now, you were in the back of his drunken mind, and Blair in the front. Literally and figuratively. 

The two broke away from the kiss for air, and Ransom soon remembered the woman staring seductively at him. At this moment, the man was no longer in his own mindset and was reverting back to his old self. The playboy Ransom Drysdale was out tonight, not the man bound by the ring on his finger. 

“It’s Blair right?”

She nodded, a few waves of chestnut brown hair moving with her head. Soon drinks long forgotten, Ransom threw down a one-hundred dollar bill, taking Blair by the hand, and out the door. As he gripped her warm hand, he could feel the cold metal of his wedding ring, slightly breaking him out of his lustful haze as mentally kicked himself for what just almost happened. He let out a small laugh, you were always there to keep him in line, whether he accepted it or not. And thank god for that, he thought. After that little reminder, it was like he had sobered up.

About to send Blair back into the bar, lips peppered small kisses to his ear and his fresh mindset was thrown out the window. The sober thoughts now gone. Starting that car engine and driving out with Blair in the passenger seat, Ransom was unknowingly throwing away the best thing to ever happen to him. By doing this, long gone was the better man you had helped make Ransom become.

 If only he had been strong enough to fight the temptation and listen to the little warning the symbol of your love (his ring) gave him...

And that night, as Ransom washed away his longing for you with Blair, you laid awake in your childhood bed, happily replaying the memory of lunch with Ransom just the day before. Soon, you’d be reliving that memory in your head, more often than once, but with tears streaming down your face. 

taglist: @kiwihoee @buckybarnesthehotshot @memissbee @tricereads @tonystankschild @coffeebooksandfandom @ria132love @what-is-your-wish​ @maan24​ @bval-1​ @jemimah-b99​

If I’ve messed up and tagged the wrong person, please lemme know. I’m very tired and typing up the taglist was probably not the best idea.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans #chris evans x reader

[olsone13]

I Wrote it in Your Shower

A bouquet of flowers and some Italian food inspire a song

A/N: lol okay so i was oddly inspired while working this evening and this is what happened. Please be kind and any feedback is greatly appreciated!!! I also didn’t edit this very much after the initial writing of it...

TW: None really, sexual behavior implied but very, very lightly. 

The library was quiet. And that’s the way I liked it, just me and the books and my music. They had lives of their own that lived in the people that borrowed them and lost themselves between their pages. The books came back to me, always a little different than when they left me. I was on my break, reading the latest novel I had become absorbed into in the old leather chair by the window in the back corner of the library. It had the best natural light and no one seemed to bother me when I was back here, even though it was the best spot in the library. As the music flooded my ears and my eyes skimmed the pages, I saw a pair of scuffed boots standing a little too close to my chair to be an accident. Pulling an earbud out I asked the individual belonging to the boots what he needed.

“If you really need help, I can take care of it but I’m on break and Catherine at the front desk would be more than happy to help.”

“Oh, um, actually I was wondering if I could just sit and join you. I need a moment,” he said with a sigh. He looked familiar but I couldn’t place where I knew him from.

“Uh sure, it’s my favorite spot in the library and I’m in a good mood so have a seat,” I said as I shuffled myself and my sprawled lunch away from the other leather chair.

“The name’s Harry. And thank you for sharing your spot.” A soft smile reached his eyes as he looked back up at me. It was the I realized who he was and that he was singing to me in my headphones right now.

“Y/N. And of course, anything for you Harry” I said as I turned my phone screen towards him, to show that he was in fact the person I had in my headphones at the moment.

“I won’t tell anyone your secret, that you’re here, if you don’t tell anyone about my favorite spot” I winked at him when he quickly realized I knew he exactly who he was.  

“Deal,” he smiled back at me again, relief replacing the worry that had quickly appeared.

I finished my food and the remainder of the chapter I had started, all while Harry’s eyes never really left my space. He would occasionally check his phone but it felt like I was an animal being observed in a zoo. I started to gather my garbage and the book to check out since it had hooked me by chapter 1, asking Harry if he was staying any longer.

“I’ll be a bit longer I think. I like this space y’know? When are you done with work, I owe you a coffee or a drink or something for saving m’skin back there” He said as he shifted in his chair.

“I’m done around 3, so like an hour and a half, I know a cute cafe down the block and we can walk since it’s still nice out.” I quickly pushed myself out of the chair, walked to the front counter and tossed my garbage. The rest of my time passed quickly and I seemed to find every chance to visit the back corner to put away books or to just peek my head around the corner and catch his eye.

I clocked out and put my name tag on my desk so I wouldn’t forget it tomorrow. I threw my tote bag with my laptop and other work materials over my shoulder and picked up my purse. I went to go grab Harry, only to find him waiting for me outside the library specialists office.

“A specialist huh?” He asked me as we walked toward the staff parking lot.

“Uh yeah! I have always loved research and books and so I found a home here and I do some side projects with local colleges to assist on research materials and stuff.” I said as I unlocked my car door and threw my work bag and cardigan into the back seat. I was left in the sleeveless dress and loafers I had thrown on this morning.

“The cafe is just down the street a little if you’re okay with walking, otherwise I can drive us.”

“I think it’ll be nice to walk, just uh show me the way.” I started off down the path that cut through the park and towards the main part of old downtown. As we approached the café, I finished my story about how I had ended up in town. Harry opened the door for me and I walked up to the counter ordering a large caramel iced coffee, my drink of choice since I was 16 and needed an excessive amount of sugar to down the bitter drink. Harry stepped up and placed his order as well, grabbed both of our drinks and then picked out a small table in the back corner of the café.

“Wow a big ‘back-corner’ kinda guy huh?” I chuckled as I sat and grabbed my drink from him.

“S’habit.” He shrugged as he took a sip of his drink.

2 hours later and we were finally stepping out into the darkening main street. We walked back to my car and I looked at Harry again, asking where he was staying.

“Oh uh don’t worry bout me, I’ll find a ride” he said as he kicked a rock across the parking lot.

“Let me drive you there so you don’t get picked up by some weirdo, please?”

“A’right” he nodded like he was pressuring himself that this was the best decision, and got into the passenger seat.

After pulling into the hotel parking lot, Harry and I looked at each other for a moment before he said, barely above a whisper,

“Thank you for the normal day today” and getting out of the car. I waved back to him as I drove away and watched him disappear into the hotel doors. Cursing myself for not asking him to stay longer or at least get some way to contact him, I drove back to my apartment. I laid in bed and distractedly read my book. After reading the same page over and over again, I gave up and turned off the bedside lamp.

Morning came entirely too fast, and my dream of kissing Harry was cut short. I shook the sleep from my head and hopped in the shower before getting dressed for another day among the books.

“There’s something on your desk, came in as soon as I opened the doors this morning dear,” Catherine told me as I walked into the library.

“Thanks!” I called back as I entered the shared office space. When I looked at my desk, my jaw dropped, a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers was sitting on my desk. I pulled the card out as I set my bags on my desk chair.

“To being normal and back-corners. Call Me - H”

Harry Styles had just sent me flowers AND he wanted me to call him? I thought to myself, as I got my desk set up for the days work. I wold be doing more research than front desk work today, which meant more time to stress over whether or not I was actually going to be calling him. By the time lunch rolled around, I had dialed his number 6 times but never actually called. Yes I was a grown woman, reduced to jello by one celebrity crush, but who wouldn’t be? I dialed the number and held my breath, praying for the voicemail.

“Mornin’ was waitin’ for you t’call me.” I could hear the smirk as I stammered out a hello.

“Well, I uh, you know was busy. I’m a professional you know?” I said as I walked into the staff room to grab my lunch, which was a sandwich again. I sat down on the plastic chair and Harry asked me about my day and what had happened so far.

“Oh you know, the usual. I walked in to a giant bouquet of flowers and then trying to focus on very important research but focusing on the wrong… erhm… subject” I said through bites of food.

“The wrong subject huh? Why don’t you tell me all about this wrong subject at dinner tonight? 7pm work for you?” He asked.

“Bold of you to assume I have no plans, but yeah 7pm should be great.” I said with a little smile, knowing he was grinning from ear to ear by the way he sounded on the phone.

“Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. My turn to drive, love” He said as he hung up the phone. Did I really just get asked on a date? Tonight? What was I supposed to wear?

I smoothed the black dress down and picked up my purse. It was simple, but it was flattering and we were just going for some Italian food at the bistro by the river. Harry pulled up in front of my building and I walked over to the car. I slid into the front seat and looked over at Harry who was wearing a floral shirt, flared cords and some boots.

“Well you clean up nicely, although the flared pants are a dead give-away” I said as he started to pull away.

“What are you talking about?” He looked confused as I chuckled to myself.

“Well clearly people know you’re here, otherwise you would not have been hiding in my library yesterday. Those pants are a dead giveaway that it’s you, they’re nice though. I like them.” I finished with a shrug. He just looked at me and shook his head not saying anything.

We enjoyed dinner, wine and sharing stories about out lives, mine seemingly more boring than his. The drive back to my apartment felt too short and I didn’t want the night to end, so I took a chance.

“If you… want to… you can, uh come up to my apartment. Nothinghastohappenthoughifyoufon’twantitto” I rushed through at the end. I could feel my cheeks darken, the wine from earlier also contributing the their rosy shade.

“I would love to.” Harry parked the car and followed my into my apartment. As soon as I opened the door, I kicked my heels off and let out a sigh of relief. I walked into the kitchen and took down two glasses to pour us some more wine. Harry wandered around my small one-bedroom and looked at the pictures and books that littered every conceivable surface. I handed him his glass, and his hand lingered on mine for a moment before he plopped down on the couch.

“Well, s’alright if I end up staying here? Don’t feel like driving anymore and I sense that bottle won’t last long” He said as he took a sip of his wine.

“Yeah, I’ll grab you some clothes if you want to sleep in uh not corduroy pants and some blankets and stuff” I said with a giggle, the wine from the restaurant hitting me as well as the half glass I just gulped down. I grabbed some big shorts that I kept for god knows why and an extra large shirt that I usually used as a smock for house projects as well as a blanket and pillow from my bedroom.

“More wine?” I asked after I set everything down on the floor besides the couch. He followed me into the kitchen nodding his head to indicate another glass wouldn’t hurt anything. Before I could even think about it, Harry’s lips crashed into mine. The kiss was warm and smooth and tasted like pasta with the wine he had just finished. Wine and extra bedding forgotten, we didn’t sleep much that night.

I woke up to Harry singing in the shower, something about sunflowers if I heard him correctly. I rolled over and threw on an old t-shirt from the floor and made breakfast.

I was in the library when I heard the song for the first time. Harry’s new album had come out recently and I had finally had time to listen to the whole thing while I was working on putting loaned books back in their place. It was the song from the shower, but it was on his album. Did he write a whole song about that night? I felt my heart rate pick up. Harry and I hadn’t talked much since that night and hardly at all while he was writing the album. I pulled out my phone and hopped he still had my phone number.

“I listened to the album, it’s so good H. I think my favorite was the one about kissing in the kitchen lol” I sent the message before I could overthink it anymore. My phone buzzed again a couple minutes later and I smiled as I saw who it was from.

“Well I would hope so, wrote the bloody thing in your shower after all.”

#harry styles #harry #styles #fine line #harry x reader #fluff #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #sunflower vol. 6

[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, jbsaucy!

Happy belated Birthday, @jbsaucy​! We hope you had a wonderful day back on the 16th, and that you celebrated in style! To bring your party back around, the lovely @mega-aulover​ has written a story just for you!

For this year, I am recently divorced and trying to get the nerve up to get out there. So I would like to request a 30/40s Everlark, post divorced meeting

Jbsaucy

Dear Jbsaucy I hope you had a wonderful birthday. I apologize for the lateness, and I hope you had a wonderful day. This prompt BTW was amazing and I had a great time writing it. It was a blast. Thank you to Norbertsmom for Betaing 

Rated T 

Title:  OFF THE MARKET

-kpkpkpkp-

Divorce sucks. SUCKS.

Getting divorced sucks, being divorced sucked.

But nothing, not the tedious nature of dividing unwanted movies, the fear of root canals, or getting a speeding ticket, compared to dating. Dating, ladies and gentlemen, after being married for ten years sucked royally. 

ROYALLY!

After my divorce, my attorney suggested I get a hobby or join a club. I really wasn’t a social person. Not much of a talker, and avoided any and all spotlights. It was this fear of the spotlight that originally brought me in contact to my now ex-husband, Darius.

My best friend Gale pushed me to do one of those karaoke nights. I panicked and ran straight into Darius. He thought I was cute, and I was grateful he went up with me to the karaoke microphone. He sang and I laughed. The rest is history; the marriage only lasted ten years. But I knew we weren’t right for one another, partially because Darius was a very sexual person, for me sex wasn’t important. I got more enjoyment out of getting my teeth cleaned. He found someone who revved his engine and I got the fica and dates. 

Yup Dates.

How did that happen you ask?

Well, I’ll tell you I followed my divorce attorney’s suggestion. Preface-OUTSIDE OF A COURTROOM NEVER EVER FOLLOW YOUR DIVORCE ATTORNEY’S ADVICE.

With that warning sign, I digress. Taking a deep breath, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Wait for it... I joined a book club. 

It was the only natural course of action. After our divorce I got all of the books. You see one of the things Darius and I loved to do was go to bookstores. We’d buy all of these books with the intention of reading them, and we never did. We had bookshelves filled with books from the 100 Must-Read Classic Books by Penguin. So after my divorce, I sat in my newly minted apartment with a box of wine and all of these books. 

I was looking at the boxes, my divorce papers jutting out. Amongst them there was a note - with the name of a book club, the real 451 book club, with an address. I called them the Squad 451 or the Squad. The women were a hodgepodge of personalities; the right blend of sweet and crazy. There is Mags, the motherly type. She has boatloads of grandchildren. Then there is her neighbor Greasy Sae  who runs a diner in town. I used to go to her diner as a kid and consume her mystery meat soups. The older woman is bawdy and half of the things she says makes me blush redder than a red bean. Next is Annie, a shy, slightly mad girl who is a librarian. Delly has the personality of the southern bell who wears pink and believes in romance. I’ve known of Delly forever; she and I went to the same high school. 

Foxface,  has one of those names with multiple consonants and vowels but prefers to go by Foxy or Foxface. She is freakishly smart and sometimes, I think she has blackmarket dealings because she’s so secretive. Then there is Effie, the middle aged, tightly wound woman whose book choices are as repressed as she is, like Jane Eyre. And last, but not least, is my divorce lawyer, yes the very same one who suggested I get a hobby, Johanna Mason who is, well, a sex fiend. 

I started meeting up with them, and six months after my divorce, that’s when the ladies conspired against me and set up my profile on one of those dating websites looking for men, for me. I had no idea, and on my birthday, they presented me with their “gift.” 

It was the gift you didn’t want, like a pimple on your wedding day or the runs before an important interview, or bad breath before a first kiss. 

Greasy said that if I didn’t use my, well, feminine - looks around - petals. That they’ll dry up and turn into ugly petunias. I announced sex wasn’t important, and even friged Effie said a lady needed to literally, figuratively, and metaphorically, occassionally let her hair down. 

 I said NO.

I demanded.

I scowled.

Nothing helped.

They created a profile based upon themselves, and yet through describing themselves they pegged me. I was nurturing. I had a sexy edge. I was introverted, and yet mysterious. I was smart, honest, loyal and a closet romantic. But if you tell anyone that, I’ll hunt you down, even after I’m dead. 

They split me up like a kid of divorced parents being schlepped from one house to the other. They set themselves up in teams and each team got to pick my dates. And everytime we met for a book club meeting, I was to dutifully report on the date. Based upon their success, a second date would be permitted. 

It was a simple proposition. 

I was naive. A stupid idiot, or as Bugs Bunny say’s, a maroon. 

Because I hadn’t really ever been out there. 

To be honest, I met Darius right out of high school, at my first college party, and we were married - okay it wasn’t a big wedding. It really wasn’t a wedding at all. It was a spur of the moment, we got drunk and ended up at one of those Elvis chapel impersonators. Annnnd bada-bing. 

I never really dated, so I agreed with the book club’s plan, because how hard could dating be?

 And thus began my nightmare.

I must state, or emphatically note, not all of my “dates,” were catastrophically bad. To be fair, most of the time I wasn’t interested. Delly said I wasn’t romantically pulled. Johnna said my engine wasn’t revved up. Greasy said if the man didn’t make me want to orgasam with a look, then he wasn’t worth my time. I posed this question to the universe: How in blazing blue inferno does a man make a woman...well you know, with a look? Was that even possible?

A hazy yellow fuzz enters my head and my mind wanders. I conjure up blue eyes and translucent lashes that never tangle.  

Sigh.

…. (my brain just short circuited at the thought of large hands)

Earth to Katniss. 

Okay sorry, I spaced out for a little bit, and their words spurred me on to continue my journey. And one year after my divorcce I had stories, no I have battle scars.  To prove my point, the following are my top three worst dates. In no particular order.  

Date Disaster # 1 was with an artsy type at a chique Italian restaurant. He arrived late, and was drunk, high, or both. Then fell asleep on his plate of bolognese. Yup, in his plate of spaghetti and meat sauce. I paid for my half, tucked my tail between my legs and left.

Date Disaster #2 was with a small man with glasses and a massive intellect who didn’t stop talking about flamingos. FLAMING PINK FLAMINGOS. My brain shut down. I didn’t hear the music in the jazz themed restaurant. I didn’t even taste the heat in the gumbo. The only factoid I remembered when we said goodnight was that flamingos were gray when they were born. I couldn’t even tell you how they became pink. The man was the human form of anesthesia for my soul. 

Date Disaster #3 was a nice man. We laughed. And everything was going well. We ordered drinks, a cranberry and soda for me, the bartender special for him while we waited for our table. Turns out he has a milk allergy and the bartender special had milk. When we sat down at the table and we were talking about our hobbies, his stomach began to grumble loudly. He became pasty and then as the waiter brought out our appetizers, he threw up all over the place. It was a good thing that throwing up didn't bother me, but it bothered our waiter who gagged. Needless to say, I burned the outfit I was wearing.  

Those were the top three...but there were more, just simmering to become the top one. And for a time I thought I wasn’t made to date.  But the ladies had faith and they were really trying to choose nice, interesting guys. However, nothing, nothing that I could ever imagine could top my latest date. 

I’m rushing along the sidewalk. I don’t want to be late, but at the same time, I don’t want to tell them how much of a calamity my latest date was, but to be completely honest, I don’t want to miss it. Tonight is also the night the group meets at Mellark’s. The friendly cafe style bakery with its rich and yummy pastries, both savory and sweet. It is my favorite place to meet. Squad 451 meets twice a month in different locations, including one of the two meeting rooms in the library, one of the community rooms in the Justice Building, and on our birthdays, we meet in a restaurant, but the bakery on Main Street is our favorite location. The Mellarks owned several locations. The flagship store was always managed by one of the original family members.  

If George Senior, or the middle son Ryan Mellark is at the helm of the bakery, they allow us to cavort in the shop until close. When his older brother George Junior or their Mother Muriel was in charge, we tended to be quiet, relegating our conversations to the books. When Peeta is in charge, there are free cheese buns and chaos. 

Please, stomach gods, let Peeta be there. I skipped lunch today because I had a deadline. I also forgot my wallet at home. Thankfully, my license was at the bottom of my backpack. I need food before my stomach eats itself. I am starving when I walk into the bakery. When I see Peeta, I stop. His blue eyes meet mine and my stomach flip flops. He gives me a slow sweet smile, before his eyes slide back to the customer who is ordering.

“Katniss,” Delly squeaks, waving frantically.

Somehow, my feet carry me over to the table and there is a plate of cheese buns and I thank every celestial being in the universe. His buns are heavenly. Sitting down, I take a napkin and snatch one.  My mouth waters and my lashes close as I bring the cheese bun to my mouth.  The smell of melted cheese, fresh bread, and the hint of dill, assuage my nose, before I bite into one of Peeta’s coveted flaky concoctions. The combination of the oozing cheese, the herbs and the buttery bread elicit a moan from deep within my being. These freaking cheese buns will be the death of me. 

“Wow.” Peeta’s voice causes my lashes to fly open. 

Peeta is standing near me with a cup of tea; his face and neck splotchy and red.  

My mouth is full of delicious food, but I forgot how to chew. 

Delly is looking between us. Her pale blue eyes quizzical, like when she’s trying to understand a concept or theme in a book.

 “Okay, bitches,” Johanna says, slamming her brief down. “Where’s the rest of the motley crew?”

“Mags and Greasy just arrived,” Delly answers absentmindedly. 

“Hey, Peeta, I need a strong black coffee.” 

“Sure,” Peeta says, all the while staring at me. I finally remember to chew. “Here Katniss, your tea.”   

Taking the paper cup, I can’t help feeling bashful. “Thank you.”

“Peet,” the girl behind the counter calls. 

Whenever Peeta is here, the business is brisk. He is charming. He was always charming, even back in high school he was the most popular guy, not only because of his looks, but because he was genuinely nice. I, like all of the other girls, had a mini crush on him. 

Looking over his shoulder he says, “I’ll be right back with your coffee, Jo.” 

Now Jo is looking between him and me, but hers is a wicked grin, like right before she nails a sleazebag who doesn’t want to pay for his children. I quirk an eyebrow, clueless as to what has Johanna showing off her predatory gleam. 

“Oh, it’s chilly outside,” Mags says.

“It’s colder than Rudolph’s balls outside,” Greasy says, her gruff voice is booming. Several patrons look at her. Greasy does not care. She’s well past her sixties and it’s her motto that she should live each day as if it was her last. 

In walks Effie, Annie, and Foxface, and they all say, “Hello,” in unison. 

The book of the month is actually a YA fiction called, The Fault in Our Stars, about teens with a terminal illness. I cried when Gus...I tear up once more...at the memory. But I know we aren’t going to discuss Hazel’s predicament with her parents. 

“So,” Delly says, bouncing in her chair.

I can’t help but grimace.

“How did it go?” Foxface says. She has an accent, but I can’t place it. 

“He looked like he belonged on one of those erotic books Johanna loves to read,” Greasy says, grabbing a cheese bun.

She’s not wrong. Gloss was a blond adonis, with slate blue eyes. And abs that have a flipping twelve pack, I ought to know, I counted them. The words are out of my mouth before I am aware of what I am saying.  “He really does with a twelve pack,” I say drinking my tea.

“Did you say twelve pack?” Johanna sat up. 

My eyes widen. 

“Wait, why are you blushing Katniss?” Foxface narrows her eyes.

“Did you and he…” Annie trails off. Her doe eyes are wide. 

“Did you have your first sleepover?” Effie leaned in. 

“Or did you dry hump him like a horny-toad dog?” Greasy’s voice bounces in the bakery.

Peeta’s pauses , wiping down the counter and looks directly at me. 

“NO!” My voice sounds half strangled.

Jo and Delly exchange a look. “Peeta,” Delly calls him over. 

Oh, no, no, no, I say to myself, eyeing how quickly I can get from the back corner to the exit. It is one thing to tell the squad, it is another to have Peeta know. I think I can sprint around the chairs and clear the table near the door like an olympic hurdle jumper. 

Peet walks over. “Hey Dells, can I get you ladies anything?”

“Katniss was going to regale us with her latest date,” Delly says.

“She’s going to tell us how she knows her date has Thor’s body.” 

“You’re dating?” Peeta asks, looking at me intently.

He doesn’t know I am dating or rather, being raked through hot coals.

“Oh,” Foxface chortles. “She’s dating.”

“Remember the guy who was texting with his mother during the entire date,” Effie said.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Mags saids grinning.

“Only the part when he had Katniss talk to her, and it turned out she was psychoanalyzing her to make sure she wasn’t an ax murderer,” Annie said laughing.

“Or what about the guy who kept on mentioning his ex and cried through the crème brûlée,” Greasy slaps her knee, laughing.

I can’t help but laugh. 

“Man, those are pretty bad,” Peeta says.

I hold up my finger. “No, those are tame.”

“Tame?” His blue eyes are sparkling. “You mean there are worse dates?”

Delly snorts. “Oh there are worse. I am so glad I am out of the dating pool.”  

“Yeah, Gale just loves you,” Annie sighs. 

Delly and Gale met when I joined the book club. And while I floundered, they fell in love and now Delly was pregnant.  

My eyes shift to Annie. “It’s so much easier when you fall in love.”

“Oh?” I say.

“I met someone,” Annie says softly. “He wants to meet all of us.”

I wonder what type of guy would date quiet, shy, introverted Annie who sometimes says things that remind me of that song from those Freddy movies from the 80’s. I shake my head.  Then I narrow my eyes. “Bring him to the next session,” I hear myself say. I want to meet this man, and make sure he will take care of my friend. 

“Really.” Annie clasps her hands.

I nod, but I notice Peeta is looking at me with this strange gleam in his eyes.  “Ah...yeah.” My voice sounds breathy. I frown, wondering why the heck I sound like one of those girls. You know the ones that always appear in the music videos washing cars and dancing on super yachts. Darius was fascinated by those girls, heck, his new girlfriend looks like one of those girls.

The women are chatting with Annie about the new guy in her life.  

“We'll discuss Annie’s beau later,” Mags holds her hand in the air. “I want to hear about Katniss’ date.” Her white hair spills over her shoulder as she fixes me with a look. “So tell us, how do you know Thor has a twelve pack?”

Somehow or another I knew the scrutiny on Annie would be short lived. My time to shine would come, but when I open my mouth to speak I can see a conspiratorial glance between Mags and Annie. And it hits me that they chose this man, because he looked like Thor. I scowl at the women who set me up on this one. Mags and Annie both have a pink tinge to their faces. I would have expected this from Jo or Greasy, but Mags and Annie, well it’s INCONCEIVABLE! 

I begin to speak. “He asked me to meet him at the edge of town, near route twelve.”

“Isn't that where Ripper’s place is?” Effie questioned, and she couldn’t hide her revulsion. 

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘P’, thinking of the bar that disguised itself as an eatery. It was a seedy diner with cracked linoleum floors, yellowing formica, booths that had patches, blinking lights, and rickety chairs. 

“That’s where he asked you to meet him?” Mag’s sounds outraged. “That place is…is-”

“- a bedhaven for unsavory characters,” Foxface finishes. 

“You're brainless,” Jo mutters darkly. "Ripper's isn't the type of place you can go to Katniss. You should have called me."

As protective as I am about my friends, so is Jo. She's tough on the outside but has a really soft center. It's what makes her a perfect shark in the courtroom. Not that Darius was a jerk during our divorce. He actually wasn't. Johanna was present at the restaurant where he announced he wanted a divorce. Johanna later said it was my face, the vulnerability I tried to hide was why she took my divorce pro-bono. 

“I drove and brought my bottle of mace.” I know what everyone was thinking. The area in town where Ripper’s is located at, made the bad side of town look like a tourist destination. I didn't mind meeting my date there. I was looking forward to a basket of fries. Ripper's had amazing beer-battered fries. 

I've been to Ripper's once. I was with Gale and Thom who needed to score fake IDs. I ordered the fries, since I wasn't there for an ill gotten identification. But let me tell you, those fries. Oh! Holy mother of fries, no other fries can compare. 

Shivers!

I love food; it's why I'm a food critic now. What's so funny is that it was those fries that began my career as Buttercup, the elusive food critic. Back then I was Buttercup, the fussy eater. I blogged about them, no, I lavished them with love. I love my job. I can go into any restaurant, order anything on the menu, blog about it and get paid handsomely. And, most importantly, I can do it anonymously. Not even Darius knew I was Buttercup. He thought I was a boring housewife. Getting back to the fries, I wasn’t deterred from getting my fries.

“So then what happened?” Annie asked.

“He was there waiting for me. He stood up and smiled. And he's massive-"

"Just like a book cover," Foxface mutters.

 "He said his name wasn't Anthony, it’s Gloss.”

“Gloss?” Everyone said at the same time.

“Yup.” I sighed. “It was a sign. I should've left." Damn those fries! 

“So Gloss…" Peeta's sparkling eyes are on mine, his are an amazing hue of blue, like the indigo milk cap mushrooms. "Looks like Thor."  He frowns. "Thor with the long hair or short?"

"Long." The women around me answered as one.

Peeta turned those gorgeous eyes back to me.

Thor isn’t my cup of tea. I shrugged to show my indifference. "Gloss was sporting the Ragnarok look, short hair with facial hair."

 I swear I watch Peeta mouth, "short hair."

"Anyway, we sat at a booth. It was packed, actually." That should've been clue number two. Men at a joint like Ripper's at 8:30 on a Friday night, it was by the highway, plausible. But packed with just as many women. "The waitress who took our drink order could barely hear me."

"Was he nice?" Annie asks.

"He was sweet." Truthfully Gloss was a sweet guy.  He talked about his mother in a positive way, even if she gave him the name that was another descriptor for shiny objects. "He was attentive too. He told me his mother worked in the makeup industry. "

"That doesn't sound too awful," Delly says.

"He sounds delightful." Mags pushes her reading glasses up the bridge of her nose.  The gang is getting tired of the story and I hope they will move on to the reason we are  gathered, discussing the book we were reading. I begin to reach into my backpack because I really hate purses.

"If he's so delightful, why did he ask you to meet him at Ripper's?" Johanna says in her cross examination voice.

I wince as I take out my book.

"Yes, you must explain." Foxface demands.

"It's not nice to leave us dangling." Effie levels a look at me that has me squirming, feeling like I was being summoned into the principal's office. 

"I wanna know how you know Gloss has a twelve pack," Greasy says.

Peeta looks at me expectantly. 

Anndddd were back. I sigh. Will he run for the hills when I tell him? Most likely.

"We were talking about dancing.” My voice loses all it’s warmth. “I don't dance."

This causes a rumble of laughter and giggles amongst the women. Peeta looks confused. Finally Delly wipes the tears from her face and gasps, “You should never dance. Ever!” 

"That poor man’s toes,” Mags says, her shoulders shaking.

“Do I need to know?” Peeta looks between them. 

“I don’t dance!” I growl. The group erupts into another bout of laughter. 

“It was a scheme, a dirty underhanded scheme,” Effie says. 

The guy I was supposed to date was a dance instructor. He used the dating app as a way to drum up business. When the women meet him, he pairs them with guys who were there for a lesson. He paired me with a poor man named Harry. My nerves got the better of me, because I don’t like to be touched. Harry’s hands were sweaty. Harry tried to dip me as per my date’s instructions. I tripped, and in the process his toes were crushed, and I ended up with a sprained ankle. 

When I arrived in crutches to the next book club, well, that was one of those dates that simmers at the surface vying to be in the top three. 

“Gloss didn’t believe me. He said anyone can dance. I told him no, and explained that there are people who are predisposed to fly in airplanes, and some who get motion sickness in a car. “

“What happened next?” Foxface asks, moving to the edge of her chair.

“He went to the jukebox.”

“Oh no,” Johanna mutters. “Did he end up in the hospital?” 

“Is that how you know he’s got a twelve pack?” Greasy questions. The ladies, and Peeta are all staring at me. 

I shake my head. Why couldn’t there be a rush of customers right now? It is calm and I know the odds are against me. 

“Spill it!” Johanna demands. 

“Well, he queued up a song and waited a beat, and then Lenny’s Kravits’ American Woman started blaring. Gloss started sauntering and spun and did the splits on the floor. Next thing I know, the women in the place go nuts. They surround him, like a rabid pack of wild dogs.”

“Wait, what!” Delly exclaims her pale eyes bright, she grips the book in her hand. 

“That doesn’t happen,” Peeta says.

“It does to her,” Foxface said, her eyes shining with ferocity, like the eyes of those women at Rippers.

“Shut it blondie,” Johanna orders. 

“Yeah,” Annie says.

Taking a deep breath I continue. “He started dancing...hips…” my brain flashing to his hips gyrating. “...jutting out and…”

“Ohhhhh yeah,” Greasy cackles.

“Gyrating, his hips gyrating,” Foxface gasps.

With eyes closed I nod. “His hips were doing that all over the place. He then jumped on the table and proceeded to rip off his shirt. He shouted my name and told me his next move was his favorite. He spun onto his knees and slid up in my face before dropping his drawers.” I lower my eyes. 

“What,” Delly squeaked. “His pants?”

“It’s like Magic Mike,” Mags whispers.

I know the movie Mag’s is referring to. I’ve never seen it. “Yes.” 

“Was he naked-” Foxface began.

“-or was he wearing-” Annie cut Foxface off only to be cut off herself. 

“A G-String!” Greasy shouted excited.

I shook my head no. He wasn’t wearing anything, I can feel the heat burning my ears.

“Well don’t stop! What happened next!” Even Effie has lost her sense of propriety. 

“As I looked for an escape. It’s then I noticed  the poster on the wall, for the Slag Heap.” I pause and sigh, “Men’s Magic Friday Night Extravaganza, and Gloss was the headliner. I realized he’s a stripper.” 

And the place erupts in laughter. 

“What did you do?” Peeta asks.

My eyes connect with his.

“I slunk down to the floor and crawled my way out...drove to the hospital and made my sister administer a tetanus shot.”

 “Can I have his number?” Johanna says laughing but her eyes are dead serious. 

Peeta is smiling at me and I grab a cheese bun because they are as delicious as the man staring at me. 

Eventually we do get to the book, and it’s a pretty good discussion. Peeta let us stay until closing. Mags and Greasy are the last of the ladies to leave. It’s just me and Peeta since he let the staff go home. I’m loitering because I feel like I need to explain to Peeta why I let the ladies talk me into dating. 

I’m putting up the chairs on the tables when Peeta comes out. 

“You’re still here?”

“Yeah.” I look down at my feet.

“Katniss.”

“Peeta.” We both say at the same time, followed by a nervous chuckle.

“You first,” Peeta insists, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dating wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn't?” He raised an eyebrow.

I shake my head. 

“So what happened?”

“The ladies, they got me a year long subscription for my birthday, and knowing I wouldn’t go through with it, they choose who I date...until I find someone,” I can feel the heat rising from my neck and reaching my cheeks, “I like.”

“Really?”

I nod, incapable of speaking.  I cannot stop watching the way he blinks, those darned translucent lashes that never tangle. 

“Dating is pretty brutal.”

“Yeah,” I snort because dating is horrible. 

“My family is constantly setting me up. I went out with a girl who sang through the entire meal. She chose the pasta and sang On Top of Spaghetti.”

“What?” I laugh.

“That was my dad’s doing. My mom’s choice was a lot scarier. She made me do an obstacle course and made me do it three times until I beat the time she wanted me to reach.”

“Wow.”

“I was dressed in dress slacks, a nice shirt, and a tie.” He deadpans, “I even had on dress shoes.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he shrugs. 

I couldn't help but smile. 

“Dating sucks until you find someone who makes you laugh, someone who makes dancing easy.”

He approaches or maybe it’s my own feet that carry me to him. But it doesn’t matter because when his arm slides along my waist, and the other cradles my hand, I have no fears. There is something familiar with him as I dance with him. A slow shuffle, that has the room spinning but none of it matters because I feel at home.

“Will you dance with me Katniss?” His voice rumbles in my ear and my heart is pounding in my chest.

His scent is a warm heady mixture of spices, dill, vanilla, and cinnamon. 

“Would you go out with me Katniss?”

“Yes,” I answer, and just like that my dating profile goes up in flames. Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially off the market.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by mega-aulover

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

History (JJ Maybank x reader) pt. 1

Summary: You and JJ have history together; you two were high school sweet hearts until your father decided to take a new job across the country. It is not until 8 years later you find yourself back at the island, what will happen between the two of you? 

A/N: This is another short little mini series i’ve decided to start. I’ve actually had this first part in my drafts for maybe a month?? It will probably only be 3 parts but we shall see.

 The Best of Me by Nicholas Sparks was the inspiration behind this new fic. I know a lot write about the younger pogues, but I decided to skip some years where they are all adults. 

 I hope you guys like it!! xx Please leave feedback/thoughts on this! :) 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

You were high school sweethearts, but best friends since elementary school first. Inseparable even with the different lifestyle. JJ Maybank was from the poor side of the island, the cut, and you were on the rich side of the island, Figure 8. However, due to the location of your home, the two of you attended the same elementary school and that’s where you two met and became best friends. Then years later, the two of you found love with each other.

 You father had signed a 10 year contract that brought his work to the Outer Banks. You were terrified of the new place, only 7 and small. You didn’t know anyone as your parents led you through the colorful hallway of the school and into your new classroom. Your hair was braided into two pig tails, a pink backpack on your back and a matching lunch box in your hand. Your new teacher introduced herself, then your parents left you in the room. As the class began to fill, a small boy took a seat next to you. The one who would soon become your best friend, your protector and later your lover. 

~

Ten years later, the two of you would experience the most difficult decision. Your father had been offered another job and would be moving off the island and across the country. He holds you in his arms as you cry, trying not to cry himself. You’d come straight to his house after hearing the news from your father. “Don’t cry baby… it’s okay..” His arms tightened around you. 

“it’s not okay! We’re moving across the country.” You pulled away to look at him, “What are we going to do? What’s going to happen to us?” Your eyes are red and puffy, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

He pushes a piece of hair off your cheek and behind your ear, “I don’t know baby.”

“We can.. we can do the long distance, right?” You look up at him hopeful, “I mean we’ll talk all the time. We can skype and then I can come visit or you can come visit on the weekends.”

 Both of you would be starting college soon, living separate lives. Would the two of you find time for each other? He wants you to succeed, to have fun in college. He wants you happy. He was probably never going to make anything of himself, but he knew you would. You deserved a man who could provide and give you anything you needed. Something he couldn’t give you.

 “Maybe.. maybe we should just part ways.” He sadly whispers. He can see your eyes change from hopeful to sad in seconds. That was not what you expected him to say. You were hoping for a yeah of course baby. We’ll talk all the time. I’ll come visit or you can come to visit. You suddenly feel angry that he could even suggest that instead of fighting for the two of you. You pull away from him, standing up straight, “Fine.”

“I just.. y/n I want you to be happy. I want you to enjoy life and if it means I’m not a part of that then okay. It was only a suggestion.” He sighs. 

You shake your head, “No I understand. This is goodbye then.”

 “I don’t want to end on bad terms.” He reaches for you, but you pull away, “y/n. Come on.”

 “Goodbye.” You whisper before turning around and walking out the door. That was the last time you ever spoke or even saw him again.

 ~ 8 years later ~ 

You never expected you would be standing on this ferry heading back to the place you wanted to forget. However, your parents had made their move back to the island after your father had retired a few months ago. 

Your hands gripped the railing of the ferry as the dock came into view. 

“You okay?”

 You look up at your fiancé, Chris as he places a hand on your back. 

You force a smile, nodding, “Yeah, just ready to get off the ferry is all.”

He kisses your head, “Me too. I’m in need of a nap.” He chuckles. There was a reason you were heading back to the island. In a week, you would be marrying your fiancé; the “love of your life.”

~ 

JJ Maybank points at the blueprints, showing his workers what’s going where. He’d made something of himself. He hadn’t attended college as planned. He ended up getting a job in construction and was now the owner of his own company. He had become one of the kooks. He’d come from the cut to figure 8, living a life he’d always wanted. However, he felt empty even with everything good in his life. He felt like something was missing. More like someone was missing. 

“Did you hear who is back in town?” John B asked.

 “We saw her in town this morning.” Pope adds, looking at JJ.

 JJ takes a bite of his food. They’d arrived at the Wreck for dinner a little bit ago. It was still afloat even after all these years. Kie ended up taking over the business and opened a few more restaurants around the island. Her business was booming. She’d married a lovely woman a few years ago that helped her keep business afloat. 

John B was working his own fishing boat and was making good money. He was dating the long time girlfriend, Sarah Cameron. He’d be proposing soon, just needed to find the right time. 

Pope was the local coroner and married to a lovely woman he’d met in college. They were trying for a baby. Somehow everyone found their ways back to the island and instead of living life as pogues on the cut, they were living the kook life. Something neither of them ever imagined. 

“Who?” JJ asks, wiping his mouth. He really had no clue, nor did he really care. It was probably one of John B’s girls from high school or some touron girl JJ had a fling with summers ago.

 “Y/n.” Pope says, and it feels like JJ’s seat had been kicked out from under him. It had been 10 years since he’d seen you, since he’d let you go. He never once tried to get in touch with you. It was for your own good. He wanted the best for you and if it meant without him, he was willing to do it. It doesn’t mean he wasn’t heartbroken. He was devastated. He’d kept himself locked in John B’s spare bedroom for weeks before he finally made an appearance. Since then he’d worked himself almost to death to keep his mind occupied. 

“I heard her parents moved back to the island a couple weeks ago. Her father retired.” John B adds.

 JJ brushes it off like it was nothing, “Really? That’s great.”

 John B and Pope exchange glances, “That’s all you have to say?” Pope asks. 

JJ looks up at his friends, “What do you want me to say? I mean I broke her heart. I’ve moved on and I’m sure she has too.” 

John B and Pope exchange another glance. They’d seen you had moved on, a nice-looking man on your arm.

“She’s moved on...” Pope says. 

JJ acts like he’s not surprised, “Good for her. She deserves to be happy.” 

“They’re getting married this week.” John B adds. “Sarah... is the one planning the wedding. Apparently, her parents are arranging everything and called Sarah’s company to plan it.” 

JJ’s quiet as he takes another bite of his food. He wasn’t surprised about the fact you’d be getting married. It hurt in all honesty. The fact it wouldn’t be him standing next to you, saying I do, but he’d lost that chance years ago and it was all his fault. 

“Congrats to her.” He mutters, sipping on his beer. He decides he doesn’t want to talk about you anymore and changes the subject, “Pope, how’s the lady doing at home?” 

~ 

Your fiancé, Chris, holds your hand as he drives down the main road. You gaze out the window. Nothing much had changed. There were a few new stores, some of the old ones gone. You see the Wreck up ahead and smile to yourself. It was still there, even after all these years. It was your favorite place on the whole island. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you see that familiar blonde walk out of the front door. John B and Pope following behind. He throws his head back in laughter and you feel your heart is about to drop out of your chest. He still looked the same he did 8 years ago. You can’t help but let your head turn back to see him once more as Chris drives passed the restaurant.

 ~

 When you arrive to your parent’s home, the place is a mess. There are people all around, carrying table and chairs, décor, and a white tent being put up in the back yard, facing the water. 

You stepped out of your car and you notice a long blonde-haired woman standing in the midst of it all. That looked a lot like.. “Sarah Cameron?” 

She faces you and she looks the same she did when you’d left. Of course, she did. Her eyes light up, “Y/n!” She hurries to you, clipboard in hand and pulls you into a hug.

 “What are you doing here?” You ask, surprised to see her of all people. She pulls away to look at you, “Didn’t your mother tell you? She hired my company to plan your wedding.”

 “Oh wow, no she didn’t mention a thing.. Well, how are you doing? Married with kids? Dating someone?” You laugh a little.

 She smiles, “Me and John B are still going strong.” 

“oh that’s wonderful.” You smile, “I knew you two would..” 

She turns around to see someone carrying something off to the wrong place, “I’m sorry, excuse me.” She quickly rushes to them, giving them orders. 

Who would have thought John B and Sarah would be the couple to make it? You’d always expected it to be you and JJ… 

Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye​ , @alexa-playafricabytoto​ , @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ , @prejudic3​ , @turtlee-says-rawr​ , @outrbank​ , @k-k0129​ , @annedub , @rockyyc77​ , @ilovejjmaybank​ , @treestarrrrrrrr​​ , @thedarkqueenofavalon​ , @write-from-the-heart​ , @eclecticpuppyhollywoodhumanoid , @lasnaro​ , @kiarasgold​ , @normatural​ , @kaylinfayezink​ , @lordsagittarius​ , @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ , @thelovelydreamer17​ , @chasefreakinstokes​ , @fanficscuziranout​ , @diverrdown​ , @tregua-oca​ , @junkiemuppettxx​ , @afterglowsb-tch13​ , @hardyxlove​ , @cinnamon-roll-seth​

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All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles​  , @simonsbluee​

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