#or maybe there’s a competition for women in business school that I missed that I was supposed to participate in

[atjsgf]

📓 📓 📓 (plot per book pls!!)

ALRIGHT LET'S DO IT!

MISS AMERICANA AND THE HEARTBREAK PRINCE

So I have this reylo fic I’ve been meaning to write for years called Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. It’s a high school AU that is based on A Cinderella Story (one of my top five fave movies of all-time) but doesn’t follow it exactly–it’s a little darker, just bc of the nature of adapting the characters’ backstories, especially Finn and Ben. (They are all seniors unless otherwise specified.) 

Rey plays the role of Sam/Cinderella. Her mom died when she was young, leaving her to be raised by her abusive stepfather, Brendol Hux. Said stepfather favors his kids, Hux and Phasma (Armitage goes by his last name. Phasma is a nickname, but I think she has a real one that gets brought up). However, he also puts a lot of pressure on them as athletes (unsure what sport they do, figure skating maybe.) 

In ACS it’s a running gag that Sam’s twin stepsisters are really bad at their sport (synchronized swimming). In this, they’re good, but it’s to their detriment. (The exploitation of underage athletes is a recurring theme in this fic.)

(I like the trope where the evil stepmother–or stepfather in this case–is abusive to the step-siblings, too, just in a different way, just bc it strikes me as more relatable.) 

Rey works at the business Brendol runs, a mechanic shop/diner. She’s saving up money for college, but she’s also kind of forced to work long hours by Brendol. Her fairy godmother is obviously the manager of the diner, Daae Leira. 

Finn is Carter, but instead of acting, his whole thing is that he was a competitive athlete who fought for emancipation from his abusive family and won, and now he wants to major in journalism to shed light on the issue. 

Rose is Astrid (the DJ in the movie, she does have a name) who wants to major in broadcast journalism. So they both work on the school paper and that brings them together. 

And ofc, Ben is Austin. Captain of the water polo team, known for being aggressive and competitive, but secretly wants to be a writer. He has this kind of ruthless reputation for having gotten his own sister expelled by planting weed in her locker to prevent himself from getting kicked off the football team for having it. 

In reality, he got Cara expelled because his football coach–abusive, manipulative Snoke–was about to turn his attention to Cara, who had joined the girls’ water polo team against Ben’s advice. And Ben was terrified of Cara getting tied up with Snoke the way he had by that point. (Cara now goes to a boarding school in Northern CA, as opposed to the San Fernando valley where everything takes place.)

Anyways, Ben’s friends are Poe Dameron and Sage Skylstad. Poe is on the team with him and Sage is someone he’s been friends with since middle school. 

Ben and Rey have this online relationship. They know they go to the same school, but other than that they don’t know the other’s identity. When Rey finds out, her fear is less about Ben being super popular (he’s not), and more about him having that asshole reputation. (A more mild stressor is Sage–everyone at their school is convinced the two are dating, because of the whole “men and women can’t be platonic friends” thing. They are not and both find the idea gross.) 

Anyway. Rey gets her Cinderella moment, Snoke gets exposed by Finn and Rose, Ben gets his “I’m throwing away YOUR dream” moment, and they live happily ever after. I also wanted to do some sequels about them in college, Poe/Cara getting together, stuff like that. 

BETWEEN TWO POINTS/IN SCREAMING COLOR

So I had this idea for a series of Community fics. The series is called Between Two Points. The first three would each center on one ship. The first one, called In Screaming Color, would be Abed/OC. The second one would be Britta/Troy and the third would be Jeff/Annie. However, I think if I went back and did it now, I’d probably change it to Britta/OFC and Abed/OC/Troy, so I’ll outline it that way from here. 

In Screaming Color would just be Abed/OC, Troy would come into play later, I think it takes place after he leaves but while they’re still in school. The OC–I’ll call her Drew for now, that’s when she was my self-insert but I think I’d wanna make her a full OC if I wrote this–is a Dance major. She’s had a crush on Abed for awhile, ever since the Who’s the Boss debacle where he made the instructor cry or whatever, I need to rewatch the show. (I vaguely remember that I had to move the timeline and have this episode be earlier for things to make sense.) She was in that class and fell in love with how passionate Abed is about things like sitcoms–she’s also deeply passionate about things like that (she writes fanfic, etc) and felt a connection to that. 

However, Abed remains basically unaware of her existence until he has to do a music video for a class. She auditions for the main role (a ballerina in a music box who falls down and has to find her way around the music box–that’s my working theory on what it is, although I may change it if I think of something more thematically relevant) and gets the part. 

From there it’s this psychological thing where there’s a lot of miscommunication (mostly on Drew’s part) and false assumptions (mostly on Abed’s part) where she’s trying to make it clear that she’s genuinely interested in him, but he rebuffs her because he finds the trope of a director getting involved with actresses on set to be tired. (Feminist king.) And also because, you’ll remember in an early episode that Abed says “a lot of girls like me because I’m adorable and my aloofness reminds them of their fathers.” Even as he starts to like her, he thinks that she’s only interested in him because of the director persona he puts on. 

Eventually they have an actual conversation where she admits when she started liking him and why–she doesn’t like him because he’s aloof, she likes him because he’s deeply passionate about stories and storytelling and she can see that in everything he does, even if nobody else sees it that way. And they end up dating and are cute <3 In fics #2 and #3 they can often be found in the background doing fun things and acting out their favorite tropes. (Drew introduces him to the idea of acting out tropes instead of specific scenes or movies that exist, and he becomes obsessed.) 

Fic #2, currently untitled, would take place after the finale and would be a Britta/OC that ends in a decision to not get married but instead have a non-legally binding promise ceremony, because Britta doesn’t want to get married but she does want to be with the OC forever. I still like Troy/Britta, but idk if I see them working long-term, and I also think it would be a fun exercise to look at Britta and see what she would need in someone as a long-term love interest. 

Fic #3, also currently untitled, would see Annie coming back from Quantico for Britta’s wedding, years after leaving in the finale. She would have gone through a lot of personal growth in the years in between, and the fic would have her and Jeff get together in some way. Idk, I haven’t thought that hard about it, I just like them. 

(I also sometimes toyed with the idea of a fic that takes place in before fic# 3 that sees Annie having that personal growth in Quantico–it would be a Criminal Minds crossover and she’d be in the BAU.) 

And the final fic, Fic #4 would go back to right after Fic #1 when they’re all still in school. It would be an anthology fic where each chapter is about Drew’s relationship with the other members of the study group–how they met and what their dynamic is and when and why that member accepted her into their circle. For example, I wanted to move that one episode where Jeff gets bullied by some teenagers to be later in the timeline, and have Drew get involved, and that’s how she and Jeff connect. 

The last chapter–maybe the last few chapters, or maybe I’d make it a separate fic, idk if I could do the character work necessary in one chapter. But it would overlap with fic #3. Like Annie, Troy comes back for Britta’s wedding. (I think he and Britta are still close and there’s a lot of affection there even though they know they weren’t supposed to be forever, and I think Troy is really happy Britta found her person.)

Anyways, this would be when Troy/Drew/Abed gets together as a polyamorous triad. I think both Troy and Abed had those feelings before but never addressed them because they didn’t want to ruin their friendship and because it felt kind of off somehow. But Troy was gone for awhile and Abed didn’t fall apart–in fact, he’s proven to himself that he is capable of being in a long-term relationship that’s healthy. Their relationship has already undergone the worst scenario possible, so I think they’re more confident that if they broke up, they’d still be friends. And that feeling of off-ness is gone with Drew in the mix. 

(Abed and Drew admit to each other that even though they love each other atp, there always felt like there was a missing space in their relationship–it’s just generally this idea that the three of them are supposed to be in this kind of relationship with each other and that’s what’s always been right for them, they just had to wait for the pieces to fall into place.) 

Drew also panics when she realizes so many tropes are based on monogamous relationships until Abed reminds her that she is a writer and she can make up new stories for them, which she does. 

WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?

This was gonna be a reylo role-reversal AU. With Cara in the mix, things that unfolded in canon shifted, and, long story short, Snoke was unsuccessful in turning Ben Solo to the dark side, so he set his sights on Rey instead and since she had no support network, he succeeded. Now Rey is the leader of the Knights of Ren who finds herself inexplicably drawn to smuggler Ben Solo. Would also include Finnrose (maybe a role reversal on them, too? Stormtrooper Rose and maintenance worker Finn?) and Damara (not role reversal I don’t think bc I can’t see Cara as anything other than an engineer, but their relationship may be different in some way.) 

I honestly didn’t have a lot planned for this lol, it was just something I was toying with. I obviously wasn’t the first to come up with the idea but I thought it would be fun to explore and put my mark on it. 

#cat #qna #ask meme: unwritten fics

[booksofkingdomsandcourts]

Nessian Week: AU Day

I work well with deadlines so even though this is just a run-of-the-mill Modern!AU, I thought I’d post this drabble that’s been knocking around in my head for a few weeks today! It has a little part two that I’m hoping to post later tonight :)

           Cassian could tell something was on Nesta’s mind all through dinner. He could tell as soon as he got home from work, really. It wasn’t about him, he didn’t think, since she’d kissed him welcome home and let him squeeze her ass. No, there was just…something. Something that made her eyes a little vacant and her words a little quiet. But during dinner she just let him talk about work, nodding and answering, and if there was one thing Cassian had learned about Nesta, it was to give her space. He would give it a little longer, and then he would ask.

           After dinner they watched an episode of the Netflix show they were working their way through and then got ready for bed. Even though it was only eight thirty, their rigid commitment to mornings at the gym meant they were always early to bed, early to rise.

           As they crawled under the covers, Cassian finally poked Nesta’s side and said, “Hey. Something you want to talk about?”

           He had long since learned that “what’s wrong” and “talk to me” didn’t work on Nesta. He had learned to just ask if she wanted to talk, and that sometimes, the answer was no. That was okay. He had also often assured her that one of the reasons he kept his chest so big was for ample cuddle room, if that was all she wanted instead.

           But tonight, Nesta sighed and looked at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. Cassian propped himself up on one elbow, waiting.

           “I’ve been thinking about trying for law school again,” Nesta said at last.

           “Oh,” Cassian said, surprised but not unpleasantly so. When everything had gone to shit and their father had died, Nesta had withdrawn what Cassian was told was a very promising and competitive law school application. That had been over two years ago now, and Cassian had found himself wondering more than once if she missed no longer being on that path, or if it was something she had ever wanted for herself at all.

           “Yeah,” she agreed, then continued, “I just don’t think the sugar baby lifestyle suits me as well as it suits Feyre, you know?” Cassian laughed. “Seriously! She just lives in a big house and paints all day and is going to give Rhys as many babies as he wants, and I’m really happy for her.”

           “He really loves her,” Cassian said, feeling a need to defend his brother. It was maybe undeniable that Rhysand technically qualified as Feyre’s sugar daddy given their age gap, but the implication that he just wanted her for baby making, even though Cassian knew Nesta didn’t mean it like that, riled him just a little.

           “I know,” Nesta said, unfazed. “I said I was happy for her. I just don’t know that that’s for me, you know? I want to do something. I want to have a career and something that I am outside of just us.” If Cassian was not used to Nesta’s bluntness, he might have been offended. But she turned to look at him with her crystal-blue eyes unusually wide and vulnerable, and he knew this was really something that had been weighing on her for a while.

           “Okay, hell yeah,” Cassian said. “My Nesta, girlbossing it up. I’m all for it, whatever you want to do. Law school, business mogul, dean—you’ll kick ass no matter what.”

           Nesta rolled her eyes, but Cassian could see her cheeks had turned slightly pink. “Don’t ever call me girlboss again.”

           “No promises.”

           Nesta rolled her eyes again, and Cassian grinned wider. For a moment, Nesta picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, and then she said, “Or if none of them work out, I guess I could lean into the sugar baby lifestyle and start an OnlyFans.”

           Cassian suppressed a groan, imagining Nesta’s OnlyFans. The amount of money he would have paid for that if she wasn’t his…. “And I’d be your top supporter,” he promised.

           She gave him an exasperated look. “Anything I’d post on OnlyFans you get for free.”

           “But I’m going to support your endeavors, no matter what they are,” Cassian said. “You could try a new career every year for the rest of our lives and I’d be right there by your side. You’ll be the best at whatever you do, baby, you and I both know that.”

           “That’s actually a good point,” she said, pointing at him. “If I get in you’re not allowed to pay my tuition. And neither is Rhysand.”

           “What?” Cassian exclaimed. “Of course I am!”

           “You are not,” Nesta said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “This is my career, my path. I’ll get myself through and pay off the loans on my own.”

           It was a shame there was no talking Nesta into taking charity. If she had decided it would wound her pride to have Cassian pay her tuition, there would be no changing her mind. But he understood—if she wanted this to be something that was hers, it didn’t make sense to have him tied to it so intrinsically. He could accept that. Sort of.

           “Fine,” he said. “But I’m still paying rent and buying groceries and bringing you really big, sugary coffees when you have a hard day of studying. No argument.”

           That earned him another eye roll, but this time with a small smile. “Fine.” She scooted closer so she could snuggle against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her close.

           Something in him relaxed just having her so close, but there was still tension in her arms, in her fingers on his back, so he just stroked her hair and waited. Finally, she whispered, “Did you mean it?”

           “About the sugary coffees? Of course. I know we try to eat right, but—”

           “No,” Nesta interrupted. “About…every year, for the rest of our lives. You being by my side.” She tightened her arms and fingers like she was clinging to him.

           For the first time tonight, Cassian was totally taken aback. That was what had thrown her? Wasn’t it obvious? Wasn’t it…what she wanted? “Yeah,” he said, ignoring a cold wash of fear in his stomach. “You don’t think I’m going anywhere, do you? Like I could ever even look at another woman now that I’ve loved you? This is it for me, Ness. Honestly you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

           He half expected her to shoot back about stalking or restraining orders or the like, but instead she squeezed him so tight even he almost had the wind knocked out of him. She moved her face from his chest to bury it against his neck, and though he didn’t feel the wet heat of tears, her ragged breaths sounded like she was trying not to cry. “Nesta,” he whispered softly. “Don’t tell me you want a career because you think I might leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

           “I don’t just want it because of that,” she managed, voice choked. “But you can’t know. You can’t know you won’t get sick of me.”

           “How could I possibly get sick of you? You have ruined me for all other women, Ness, I mean that. And I don’t just mean about sex, though the sex I have with you is absolutely the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, no contest.” She let out a choked laugh against his chest. He could feel her tears now. “I am genuinely excited to see you chase your dreams, Nesta. I’m excited to bring you sugary coffees, and take you out for nice dinners after your big exams, and watch you kick the ass of every other attorney who is unfortunate enough to go up against you. You’re my everything. I don’t want you to spend any more time doubting that.”

           “I know,” Nesta whispered. “I know. You’re my everything too. I’ve never cared about anything as much as I care about you. That’s what’s so scary.”

           Cassian had known almost from the moment he met her that she was the woman he was going to marry. In his mind, however, it was such an inevitability that he hadn’t felt the need to rush. He thought of them as the type to just be together until one day they’d look at each other and say “hey, we should probably get married, huh?” But sometimes he forgot that there was a lot of insecurity under Nesta’s kickass physique and haughty stares. Maybe she needed that promise set in stone (a very expensive, very shiny stone) more than he had realized. He didn’t think she was hounding for a rock, but if she was worried that his lack of commitment was because he was leaving himself a doorway out, he needed to show her that she couldn’t be more wrong.

           As she rolled onto her back and invited him to have some of that life-changing sex, he thought to himself that maybe it was time he went and got a ring.

@nessianweek

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #modern au #nessian fanfic #nessianweek2021 #my writing #jumping on the modern nesta is a lawyer train because I like that for her

[contemplativepancakes]

number one wiener eater

written for the @lambertbigbang, with art by the amazing @geralt-of-riviass here! Make sure to check it out :D (also a ginormous thanks to @hoomhum for betaing and helping me work out the extremely complicated logistics of bathroom stall sex). Read on ao3 here!

When Lambert loses the hot dog eating contest that he’s won for the past three years in a row, there’s nothing he would love more than to find who beat him and punch them in the face. Unfortunately, he was too busy throwing up to know who the winner was.

All he knows is that he’s kind of maybe in love with the guy who held his hair while he puked. (8k, explicit, lambden, cw: vomiting, semi public sex)

Lambert’s gonna puke. He keeps stuffing the buns in his mouth, but they’re like glue, and his jaw refuses to work. He swallows, but nothing goes down. He takes a desperate gulp of water and sputters on it. Jerking his head up to glance at the countdown clock, he silently curses as he sees he has seconds left. He shoves what he can into his already full mouth, raising his hands up as the judge shouts for them to stop.

He takes a second to glance down the long line of other competitive eaters, but a wave of nausea hits him, and he looks at the ground, determined on keeping everything down. He keeps chewing and working to swallow as the judge takes away the plate to weigh it. Another comes down the aisle casting a critical eye at their tables, making sure that not too much food went onto the ground or table instead of their mouths.

It’s blazing outside today, and sweat coats Lambert’s face. Acid burns up his throat, but he chokes it back. He’s not a lightweight.

Lambert’s won this contest the past three years in a row, and he’s pretty sure he has this one in the bag. It’s no Coney Island Hot Dog Eating Contest, and he’s no Joey Chestnut, but he’s at least good, and the prize money is decent enough. He’s had his eye on an inflatable jacuzzi—for the women, Geralt. And the men—and he’s excited to make his maybe ill-advised purchase.

He waits for them to announce the winner, bouncing his foot on the ground to give himself something to focus on besides the rising wave of whatever’s churning in his gut.

When the judges stand up on their small podium, a hush falls over the small crowd gathered. Lambert directs his attention to them, but a bright burst of nausea hits him and sends sweat dripping down his back, and he doesn’t manage to hear anything after that.

He pukes.

“Oh jeez, are you okay?” a voice comes from somewhere on his left.

“Fine,” Lambert grunts, wiping his mouth and grimacing at the burning taste left in his mouth. Definitely more pleasant as the hot dogs were going down than up.

“Are you sure? You seem shaky.”

“I’m fine,” Lambert grumbles, and finally looks up at the guy, who puts his hands up in surrender.

“Just checking.”

He starts to heave again, and he reaches for the pail thoughtfully provided for them by the contest sponsors.

“Yep, you sure seem fine!” the other man chirps.

Lambert retches one more time, and the man hands him a napkin. Lambert takes it suspiciously, wondering if this is a reporter or something. He’s not sure why someone would want to deal with this.

The man hands him a bottle of water next, and Lambert purses his lips as he twists the top off. He squints at him. “Who are you?” he finally asks.

“Oh, sorry. I’m Aiden.”

All that does is give Lambert a name, not answer his question, but he doesn’t comment further, just offers his own name in a grunt.

“Oh, I know who you are.”

“You a fan?”

“You could say that,” Aiden says with a grin, and Lambert rolls his eyes.

“They didn’t tell me competitive eating gets you groupies.”

Aiden gives him a full throated laugh at that, and Lambert curses himself when he catches himself thinking that it sounds kind of nice. Those are exactly the kind of thoughts he doesn’t want to be having. Especially not for some weirdo that stopped to what, hold his hair while he puked? Who does that? If he’s not careful, he’s going to end up in an ice bath one kidney short.

Lambert wipes his mouth with the back of his hand again, surreptitiously checking his breath. It’s not peaches and cream, that’s for sure.

Lambert sets the pail down and faces Aiden, trying to flat out dislike him at how white his teeth are, how perfectly coiffed his dark curly hair is even in this heat, but he fails as Aiden continues to be nothing but nice to him, making small talk as Lambert tries to pull himself together.

After Lambert’s fully sat up instead of half way hunched over, expecting another vomiting wave to hit him, Aiden straightens up, too. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, then, huh?”

Lambert’s confused for a second, because he’s never seen Aiden before, but he decides he’s going to take this as a good sign. Or maybe a bad sign for the fate of his kidneys, whatever the case may be.

“I would hope so,” Lambert settles on, deciding that sounds like a good mix of hopeful and not at all like he’s desperate for a little human contact.

Aiden gives him a little half wave that has no right to be as adorable as it is when a grown man does it, and Lambert frowns and tamps down the feelings rising in his gut. No, he’s not going to call them butterflies. He’s not a twelve year old; he doesn’t get crushes, and he certainly doesn’t get butterflies in his stomach.

Lambert eventually manages to get up and walks away from the contest, sadly bereft of the prize money. He missed the announcement of the winner while he was busy throwing up, but he caught the disappointed looks some of the spectators were casting him, so he knows it isn’t him. He doesn’t even want to know who it was. He’ll just dwell endlessly. His stomach is still roiling as he clambers into his car, but at this point, he’s not sure why.

It’s what he ate, he’s sure.

-

Lambert slams his kitchen cupboard door shut. “I don’t want to talk about it, Geralt,” he mutters.

Geralt always wants to hash every detail of his competitions, and while normally Lambert is happy to indulge him, he just doesn’t want to talk about this one, okay?

It has everything to do with him losing and absolutely nothing to do with Aiden. Nothing at all.

“Okay, fine,” Geralt says, raising his hands and backing up. “No need to get so grouchy about it.”

Lambert scowls. “I’m not grouchy.”

“Right. Prove it.”

“Fine.” Lambert crosses his arms.

Geralt grins. “Return my library book for me? It’s due today, and there’s no way I’m making it over to that side of town today, I’m slammed.”

“Yeah? You’re so slammed you had time to come here and harass me?”

Geralt reaches forward to ruffle Lambert’s hair, and Lambert knocks his hand away. “Not harassment. Just brotherly concern. Have you seen the wikipedia page for competitive eating? And you expect me not to worry?” Geralt scoffs.

Lambert rolls his eyes. “Stop being so over protective, mom.”

“Deal. If you return my book.”

Lambert rolls his eyes, but he takes the book. He looks down at the title, then back up at Geralt, raising his eyebrows. “Really? Twilight?”

“I didn’t even think you knew how to read, Lamb,” Geralt deflects.

Lambert huffs. “I don’t know if I want to embarrass myself by returning this, but whatever. If anyone asks, it’s my sister’s book. You owe me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one in the lead on favors.”

“I doubt it.”

Lambert makes a show of taking the book between his pinched thumb and forefinger, Geralt rolling his eyes all the while. “I know, I know. You hear vampire, and you can’t help yourself,” Lambert says.

Geralt shrugs before clapping his hands on his thighs. “All right, I better get going. I have to pick Ciri up from school.”

“And you couldn’t have gone after to the library with her?”

“She has martial arts.”

Lambert sighs. He can help Geralt out this once, he supposes.

Geralt leaves and Lambert eyes the book setting on his coffee table. He guesses he might as well go now, and he can poke around and see if there’s anything that catches his eye. He hasn’t been to the library in nearly a year, but it might be a nice change of pace.

Lambert clambers to his feet, stopping to grab his wallet and keys before walking out to his car.

He hits every red light between his apartment and the library, and his good mood has nearly evaporated by the time he gets there. That changes when he walks in the door and sees who’s sitting at the front desk. “Aiden?” he doesn’t squeak.

Aiden looks up from where he’s typing furiously at a computer, and his face breaks out into a wide grin that makes Lambert’s stomach flip. “Lambert!”

Lambert looks down at the book he’s carrying and immediately hides it behind his back. Aiden quirks an eyebrow at him. “Got a return?”

“Yes, well, I mean, no—”

Aiden stretches out a hand, and Lambert resigns himself to his fate. He gives Aiden the book. Aiden barely glances at the cover, just gives Lambert a small smile and scans the barcode.

“I’m returning that for my brother,” Lambert can’t stop himself from saying.

Aiden glances back up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Aiden nods once. “Likely story.”

Lambert splutters and then stops when he sees the shit eating grin Aiden’s giving him.

“Hey, all reading is good reading,” Aiden says. “I’m not going to rag on you.”

“It’s my brother’s,” Lambert mumbles again, but he shakes his head in defeat.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

Lambert would normally rather die before asking for help, but he thinks it might be okay if it's Aiden he’s asking for it from. He wouldn’t have offered if he was busy or something, right?

The organ harvesting alarms start going off in Lambert’s brain again, but he dismisses them. Someone so nice surely isn’t going to cut anything out of him. And even if he does, Lambert would bet Aiden would give the good drugs, so he wouldn’t even feel it. He seems nice like that.

Yeah, that’d be okay.

Lambert moves farther into the library, going between the stacks where no one can see him. He’s not sure what books he should get to try and recover the remaining shreds of his dignity.

He whips out his phone and searches long classic books. He scrolls down the page a little frantically until he lands on War and Peace. He’s heard of that before. He’s pretty sure it’s a well regarded book. What if Aiden thinks he’s a pretentious dick? Okay, maybe he is, a little, but he doesn’t want to give him that impression right off the bat. Lambert’s already ruined his first, and second impression, he doesn’t want to mess up the third.

Lambert makes his way down the aisles, squinting as he looks for the Ts. He pulls out the book with a flourish after he finally finds it, weighing its impressive heft in his hand. He cracks it open and finds it to be suitably dense. He makes his way back up to the circulation desk, where Aiden’s scanning in returns from their self service slot.

Why didn’t Lambert just use that? He could slap himself. Well, he guesses he wouldn’t have seen Aiden if he did that, so at risk of sounding like a creepy stalker, he’s glad he came in.

Lambert thunks the book down on the counter. Aiden looks at it, then up to Lambert, a grin spreading across his face. “Just a bit of light reading for you then?”

Heat rises to Lambert’s cheeks, not sure if he’s being mocked or not. He shrugs. “It’s been on my list.”

Aiden holds a hand out, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Uh…”

“I need your library card,” Aiden says patiently.

“Right. Um, let’s see here.”

Lambert hasn’t been to the library since the last time he came with Ciri to pick out movies they were going to watch while she stayed with him, and he pulls out his wallet. He holds it open to thumb through it, wondering why the fuck he feels the need to carry so many gift cards around that he’s never going to use. Foil crinkles as he goes through everything, and he resolutely does not make eye contact with Aiden.

It’s no use, though. “You’re not supposed to carry those around in your wallet, you know,” he says conversationally. “Wears holes in them.”

There’s a quip on Lambert’s tongue about using them often enough that he doesn’t have to worry about that, but he bites it back. He’s not a creep who would say that at someone’s job.

After another painful ten seconds, Lambert gives up on finding the card. He thinks he remembers them giving him a miniature one for it, too, so he looks on his key chain instead, filled as it is with at least twenty different discount cards and various baubles Ciri’s made for him.

“I can tell you’re a fine connoisseur of our goods,” Aiden comments.

“Shut up,” Lambert grouses, finally finding the little card and setting the whole thing down for Aiden.

Aiden scans it, keys and cards jingling against each other, and frowns. “It’s expired,” he says apologetically.

Lambert wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, especially as Aiden fingers the rooster on it that Eskel gave him after he came out. He should get around to cleaning off his keyring.

“I guess I know you really were returning that book for your brother?” Aiden offers.

Despite himself, Lambert smiles. “I guess you do.” Lambert swallows. “So what do I have to do to renew it? I think I might have to start coming here more often.”

Aiden gives him a tiny grin, and they get the card renewed, then the book checked out. “I’ll be expecting a report on how it was when you return it,” Aiden says of War and Peace, tucking the receipt into the book.

Lambert’s not sure if he had been entirely convinced he was actually going to read it, but he finds himself saying, “You bet.”

Aiden flashes him a smile that Lambert would best describe as feral, and as he walks out to his car, Lambert wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

-

Later that night finds Geralt back on Lambert’s couch. “I thought you were so busy,” Lambert complains.

“Well, Ciri’s at her martial arts class now and your apartment was close. What do you have to eat?”

Lambert rolls his eyes and resists the urge to shove Geralt’s feet off his coffee table. “Nothing for you.”

Geralt gets up to survey the refrigerator.

“If you put a finger on my burrito, I’ll end you,” Lambert threatens.

Lambert can practically hear Geralt rolling his eyes as he heaves a heavy sigh. “Do not drink out of the jug either.”

Geralt groans again. “Like you don’t?”

“Well, I’m the one who buys it. All you do is come over and eat my food like you don’t have any of your own.”

Geralt comes back to the couch after some muttering and putting something in the microwave. Lambert resists the urge to strangle him. When Geralt comes back, it’s with chinese takeout that’s been in the refrigerator for at least two weeks. Lambert doesn’t say anything.

He watches with a raised eyebrow as Geralt slurps down the noodles, mildly impressed at his stomach of steel. He’s always thought Geralt would be a good competitive eater.

When Geralt finally puts the chop sticks down and comes back up for air, he brightens and reaches into his pocket. “Here, I saved this for you.”

Geralt hands a folded up newspaper clipping to him, and Lambert scowls upon seeing the picture of the hot dog eating contest sign. He crumples it up and tosses it at Geralt’s head.

Geralt’s hand automatically comes up and bats it away, making it fall to the floor. “Jeez, I try to do one nice thing…”

“Don’t act like being nice was your motivation.”

Geralt gives him a cheshire cat grin. “You’re too easy to rile up, you know that?”

“Yeah, thanks a lot for that, shit lips. By the way, you’re welcome for taking back your book. I nearly got laughed out of the library.”

Geralt smirks at him. Fortunately for Geralt, there’s nothing for Lambert to throw at him again within arms reach.

“I see you even got a book. That’s some heavy reading,” Geralt says, a look of mock seriousness pasted on his face.

“Shut up.”

“That’d take you at least three years to read.”

“Shut up,” Lambert says again, putting his hands over his ears.

“Almost seems like you got that just to impress someone; I’ve never known you to have an interest in the classics before.”

Lambert looks at the book sitting on the coffee table and considers just braining Geralt with it. Surely a jury would be understanding that sometimes you just have to hit your stupid as fuck brother upside the head with a three pound book.

Not guilty, for sure.

Lambert snaps out of his daydream to look pointedly at the clock. “Exactly how long is Ciri’s class?”

Geralt checks his watch. “Shit, I gotta go.”

Lambert grouses as Geralt puts on his jacket and leaves his bowl on the table for Lambert. “I’m not a maid!” he shouts after Geralt’s retreating back.

Geralt flips him off and then blows him a kiss, leaving Lambert to wonder if he’s just broken a record for the world’s longest eye roll.

Lambert looks back to the book. He guesses he has nothing better to do…

-

Lambert makes it through the book much more quickly than he anticipated; once he gets past the dry as fuck language, it’s actually kind of interesting.

He’s excited but also dreading going back to the library. This time he should probably be better prepared when he goes in, so he doesn’t have to frantically flick through his phone hidden in the middle of the stacks trying to find something to check out that’s not going to make him look like an idiot.

He searches for something interesting sounding, but maybe something that’s not going to make Aiden laugh at him this time. Well, maybe he can make him laugh in a good way instead of making fun of him, Lambert muses as he scrolls through book titles.

And so, the next time when he goes to the library, he surprises a laugh out of Aiden when he slams A Treatise of Cocks and Hens onto the counter to check out.

“You into animal husbandry now?” Aiden snickers.

“I’ve been considering some laying hens,” Lambert says in mock seriousness. “Why, you got any advice?”

“Ah. Eggs, nature’s perfect food,” he says sagely. “I am sure that is the only reason why you’ve chosen this particular book.”

“Yep.”

Aiden grins. “Huh. Very interesting. Well, I’ll be expecting a report back. By the way, how was War and Peace?”

“Surprisingly not terrible.”

Aiden drums his fingers on the counter, scrutinizing him. “Huh.”

“What do you mean, ‘huh?’”

“A man can’t say ‘huh’ without being ruthlessly interrogated now? What is this country coming to?”

Lambert shakes his head at the dramatics and finally remembers to hand over his library card. Aiden scans it, then his book, a small smile still playing at the corner of his mouth. The receipt prints, and Lambert holds out his hand for it, but Aiden takes it and scribbles something down before tucking it in the book.

“Just...personalized service for our valued members,” he says with a wink.

“I’m not paying for anything; I don’t think you need to try that hard.”

“Are you complaining?”

Lambert shakes his head hastily. “Definitely not.”

Aiden slides the book across the counter to him. “Come back soon,” he says with a cheeky wave.

Lambert barely resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him, and where did that come from, but he manages to make it out of the library without making a total ass of himself. When he gets out to his car, he slides behind the wheel and takes the receipt out of the bag.

On it is a number, one Lambert hopes like fuck is Aiden’s and not just some cruel joke, and the words, Text me what you learned from this book. I want to learn all about it (;

Lambert traces his fingers over the word cock on the cover.

He can’t believe that actually worked.

-

When he tells Geralt the news, Geralt howls with laughter.

Predictably, Geralt is eating his food again, and is being absolutely no help in assisting Lambert with choosing the clothes he should wear on his date. He had somehow worked up the nerve to text Aiden, and after a week of sending waffling texts back and forth, they’re going to a bar together. Shit, Lambert hasn’t been on a date in forever.

“Calm down,” Geralt says around a mouthful of pasta from Lambert’s bed, watching his eyes dart back and forth around his closet. “Wear a button down,” he advises. “That’s respectable.”

“Not like I’m trying too hard?”

Geralt hums. “Maybe.”

Lambert scowls at him. “Why are you even here if you’re not going to help?”

Geralt points a fork to his bowl. “Dude, you made bolognese. Where else am I going to be?”

“Don’t you have a kid or something you need to watch?” Lambert asks, but it’s without heat.

“She’s with Yen tonight. I wanted a front row seat to this shit show, and they’re going to an opera or something. I don’t ask questions.”

“Wow, thank you for your enthusiastic support.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you care this much before,” Geralt observes.

“Yeah, well, he’s nice. I’ve never dated someone who’s nice before.”

“I can only hope he rubs off on you.”

Lambert nods. “We can only hope.”

Geralt throws a pillow at him. “Don’t be a pervert.”

“Hey! You’re the one who said it, not me.”

Geralt sets the bowl down, balancing precariously on Lambert’s bed and claps his hands over his ears. “I do not want to think about you doing any of that. You’re going to be 12 to me forever.”

“Geralt, you are six years older than me.”

“And?”

Lambert shakes his head as he pulls out a polo before discarding it.

Why the hell does he even have that? He wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a fucking polo.

In the end, Lambert settles on nothing too out of the norm from his typical style. He doesn’t want Aiden to get the wrong idea, and he’s sure Aiden won’t hesitate in making fun of him if he tries too hard. He wets his comb and runs it through his hair, but it’s really too short to stick up in odd angles, which is exactly the way he likes it.

He shoos Geralt out of his apartment as he leaves. “I can’t leave you unsupervised to poke through my things,” he says, and Geralt doesn’t even argue with him about it, which is highly concerning because that means it’s true.

Lambert’s heart is jackrabbiting against his chest as he walks out to his car. He gives Geralt a gruff goodbye before ducking into his car, plugging his phone into the radio and cranking the volume up. He tries to focus on the lyrics instead of the pounding in his chest that he can feel pulsating in his wrists. He scrolls through his songs until he finds something by Minor Threat so he can turn it up and drown out the rest of his thoughts.

He’s meeting Aiden at the bar, because Geralt told him it was weird to pick someone up on the first date, and that Aiden was an Independent Man, whatever that meant. He probably shouldn’t listen to Geralt.

He beats his fingers in rapid bursts on his steering wheel in time with the music until he gets there, and then he checks his phone to see it’s way too early to go in yet. God, he’s messing this up already. He scrolls through his social media feeds while he waits until his phone buzzes with an incoming picture. He clicks over to it, to see—himself, hunched over behind the steering wheel of his car. It’s taken through a window, and it’s sort of definitely mega creepy.

Aiden: you coming in, or do you just plan on sitting out there all night?

Lambert checks the time again and verifies that no, he’s still 20 minutes early. A small smile crawls across his face.

He gets out and walks into the bar, looking around. Aiden waves to him, and he’s sitting at a booth, not even at the bar.

“Wow. Classy.” Lambert comments as he slides in next to him.

Shit, should he have sat across from him? Aiden apparently doesn’t mind by the way he immediately presses against Lambert.

“Can’t believe I got you out of your academic setting,” Aiden smirks. “How goes the chicken husbandry?”

“I’m considering building a coop,” Lambert says on reflex.

“I can’t even tell if you’re joking.”

Lambert grins. “Only mostly. Don’t you think that would be cute, or whatever?”

“What, you in a frilly apron collecting eggs? Yeah, I could get behind that.”

Lambert’s face gets hot almost instantly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I think it should be.” Aiden quirks an eyebrow at him in challenge, one which Lambert immediately cops out of.

“What do you want to drink?”

Lambert stands up with Aiden’s order and goes to the bar to get it, wondering what Geralt’s opinion on how the bill should be split is.

When he comes back, Aiden’s checking his phone, but he quickly sets it down when Lambert slips in beside him again.

“Just letting my friend know I’m not dead,” he says brightly. “I sent her the picture of you, and that’s already shady enough to be perfect for America’s Most Wanted, so I’d keep that in mind.”

Lambert snorts. “Noted,” he says, passing over the beer.

Aiden takes a gulp, and Lambert’s gaze doesn’t linger on how Aiden’s lips wrap around the bottle, not one bit.

Aiden sets the bottle down on the table with a clunk, liquid making its way dangerously close to the top, but none splashes out.

“So tell me about yourself, besides the fact that you eat too many hot dogs, read long books in the hopes of impressing librarians, and are blue printing a chicken coop.”

Lambert drums his fingers on the table and shrugs. “I’m not that interesting. And who said I was trying to impress you?”

Aiden shrugs and takes another drink of his beer, setting it back down and swiping a finger through the condensation. “Aren’t you?”

Lambert stands up abruptly. “Come on, pool table’s empty.”

“I think you’re going to have to show me how to handle my stick.”

Lambert groans and shoves at him. “That was so bad. That was terrible. I’m not rewarding you for that.”

Aiden grins at him, and they play pool, with Aiden exaggerating his cue handling the entire time. If Lambert has to watch him run his hands down its length one more time…

“What exactly are you angling for, here, hmm?” Lambert asks, sidling up next to him and nudging him out of the way so he can take aim for the cue ball.

Aiden shrugs. “Whatever you’re willing to give me.” He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. “I’m easy.”

Lambert squeezes his eyes shut for a second at the mental image that provides before gulping. “I, uh, haven’t really been with anyone in a while. Might be a little rusty.”

Aiden crowds behind him and wraps his arms around Lambert’s waist. “Just like riding a bike,” he says into his ear.

Lambert leans down and hits the cue ball, knocking the black eight into the middle pocket. “Well, shit.” They both know he did it on purpose.

Aiden takes Lambert’s hand for a second, and Lambert has to make a conscious effort not to short circuit. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he murmurs before turning away, leaving Lambert to fidget uncomfortably. He knocks all the balls into the pockets and hangs up their cues, dithering a little to try not to make this too obvious. Jesus, he feels like he’s 22 again, only this time he’s doing it with someone he actually likes and not just to get a reaction out of his dad when he found out.

Lambert sets his hands on the pool table and takes a deep breath before heading to the bathroom. He walks in, noting that no, this isn’t a single stall, and anyone could walk on them. His heart beats a little faster.

Aiden’s at the sink washing his hands, and Lambert walks up behind him, mouthing at his neck and wrapping his arms around him.

“Took you long enough,” Aiden says, leaning back into him. “Come on.” Aiden tugs him into a stall and slides the lock shut behind them.

It’s a tight squeeze, two grown men in one tiny stall, and to be honest, it’s a little disgusting. Lambert leans past Aiden to close the toilet seat so he doesn’t have to look at the piss stains.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does that offend your delicate sensibilities?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Aiden’s grin drops for a second. “You want to do this, right?”

Lambert tugs Aiden against him sharply and kisses him hard before pulling back. “Oh, yeah. Enthusiastically. Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Lambert yanks Aiden’s shirt out of his pants, putting his hands on Aiden’s torso, enjoying the soft flesh and moving his way up until he can brush his thumb over Aiden’s nipple. Aiden leans back in to kiss him again, shoving his hands down Lambert’s pants where he’s growing steadily harder.

Aiden strokes him inside his underwear, and Lambert forgot how fucking good this feels. He still has one ear on the door, waiting for someone else to come inside the restroom. He’s not sure what they’re going to do if that happens, so he supposes he better move this along.

Lambert leans his head back against the stall door as Aiden jerks him to full hardness, their kiss turning into something uncoordinated and sloppy.

“Feel good?” Aiden murmurs.

“Fuck, yeah,” Lambert says, and his eyes get wide as Aiden drops to his knees.

Aiden pulls him out of his pants, finally unbuttoning them and relieving some of the pressure. Lambert winces as he looks down at the mystery stains on the floor, but Aiden’s unaffected. Lambert bites down on his lip as he looks down at Aiden, leaning forward to take him into his mouth.

“Wait,” he says, and his voice sounds far away. He fumbles for his wallet, thumbing through it to find the condom from the other day.

Aiden laughs and quirks an eyebrow at him.

“It’s a new one,” Lambert says defensively.

Aiden takes it from and tears it open, rolling it down Lambert’s length. “Good?” he asks, and Lambert eagerly nods.

Warm heat envelopes him, and he instinctively threads a hand through Aiden’s hair. Aiden seems to like that, and he starts doing something to the sensitive spot just under Lambert’s head that has him panting after a minute.

The door to the bathroom creaks open then, and Lambert tugs on Aiden’s hair urgently, but Aiden doesn’t let up, if anything, just increases whatever he’s doing down there until Lambert can barely see straight, let alone keep his noises to himself.

There’s the sound of someone unzipping themselves, and Lambert looks down at Aiden incredulously. Does this person really not notice them? Judging by the intensity of the stream they let out, Lambert’s guessing not.

Aiden brings his hand up to stroke the part of Lambert’s cock not in his mouth and keeps up the steady rhythm of his mouth. It feels incredible, tight wet heat around his cock, and Lambert’s concerned his lip is going to bleed if he keeps biting it this hard. A whine starts emanating from him as Aiden increases his speed.

The urinal finally flushes, and Aiden determinedly licks at the underside of Lambert’s cock, making him gasp. Lambert gives a little yank on his hair; he knows Aiden did that on purpose. Aiden looks up at him as innocently as he can with a mouth full of cock.

It’s obscene.

The person doesn’t even wash their hands before they leave, but Lambert can’t find it in him to bemoan their lack of hygiene, he’s just glad for some semblance of privacy again as he lets out a broken moan.

Aiden keeps it up, bobbing back and forth and twisting his hands around Lambert’s cock until he gasps, coming as his legs nearly give out from underneath him. “Fuck,” he says vehemently, panting as he tries to catch his beath. “Mild mannered librarian by day... But you’re sure something else at night, huh?” Lambert tugs a hand through Aiden’s coarse curls, delighting in the way they’re so pullable and soft.

Aiden hums and pulls off, Lambert’s eyes catching on the trail of saliva that follows Aiden’s lips, still connected to Lambert’s cock. “I don’t know about mild mannered.”

Aiden pulls off the condom and knots it, tucking it back into its original foil and putting it on top of the toilet paper dispenser before Lambert fists a hand in the collar of Aiden’s shirt and pulls him to his feet, kissing him messily and reveling in the taste of Aiden’s mouth. He reaches down between them, surprised to find Aiden still fully hard. He maneuvers Aiden around until his back is to the stall door instead of Lambert. Lambert squeezes him before getting to his knees himself, clumsy and unpracticed.

It’s been too long.

Lambert’s knees hit the hard floor, the cold tiles leaching warmth from his legs, even through his jeans. He finds himself not even caring about the ever present ammonia stench and the piss stains everywhere he looks. He unbuttons Aiden’s pants and unzips them, trying not to roll his eyes at the fact that he wore slacks to a bar. How difficult does he think Lambert is to impress, exactly, because Lambert would be the first to tell you it’s not that hard.

Speaking of things that are hard...Lambert jerks his fist along Aiden’s cock a few times, before pulling out another condom and putting it on him, moving forward to take the head into his mouth.

“Jesus, how many of those do you carry around?” Aiden asks, a little breathless.

Lambert pulls off for a moment. “I used to be a boy scout.”

“Liar,” Aiden hisses, but then his head is thudding back against the stall door as Lambert does a particularly clever twist of his fist. He keeps it moving along Aiden’s cock as he gets the head sloppy with spit, paying special attention to the sensitive spot on the underside.

Aiden twitches under his ministrations, and Lambert looks up at him, satisfied as he sees Aiden’s head is still leaned back against the stall door, his eyes squeezed shut.

Lambert hums as he takes more into his mouth, bobbing his head back and forth as he moves his hand farther back to play with Aiden’s balls. He rolls them gently in his hands, running his thumb over the soft skin.

When he looks back up at Aiden, he’s staring at Lambert with undisguised want and he’s visibly restraining himself from being louder. Lambert’s just glad that no one else has come into the bathroom. There’s no question about what’s happening here, not with the slick sounds they’re making.

Lambert starts to suck on Aiden’s cock, then, and a quiet swear comes out of Aiden and his hands fly down, scrambling for purchase in Lambert’s hair, but it’s too short for him to do anything but comb at it uselessly. He ends up with one of his hands on the back of Lambert’s head, just resting there, his fingertips coming down occasionally to brush at Lambert’s neck.

Part of Lambert rebels at the tenderness, but another part of him revels in it, and he keeps the steady motion up until Aiden’s hips are starting to jerk minutely.

Lambert presses a hand against him, holding his hips in place against the stall while he tongues the vein on the underside of Aiden’s cock. He comes after what seems like both a small eternity and no time at all, a moan punching out of him.

Aiden brushes his thumb over the corner of Lambert’s mouth and brings it back up to suck it into his own, Lambert tracking the movement with the corner of his eye. Lambert buttons up his pants and attempts to straighten his shirt, but it might be a lost cause with how many wrinkles are in it from how Aiden had rucked it up. Lambert pulls the condom off and wraps it in toilet paper, setting it on top of the one from earlier.

Lambert cracks the stall door open to throw the condoms into the trash, wincing when he misses.

“That was literally three feet away, dude.”

Lambert scowls at him as he gingerly picks it up and places it in the bin. “Don’t call me dude after I just sucked your cock.”

Lambert shuts the stall door again, waiting for Aiden to be a little bit more presentable.

Aiden tugs his shirt down and smoothes his hand over it, and Lambert tucks him back into his pants and buttons up his pants for him. “Thanks, babe,” he says with a shit eating grin.

Aiden pats Lambert’s hand fondly, and it gives Lambert a warm feeling even as he rolls his eyes. Lambert unlocks the door, and they stumble out together. Aiden leans against him, still very much in Lambert’s personal space and with his hair a mess. “So. You want to do this again sometime?”

All Lambert can do is nod.

-

“Sometime” happens quite frequently over the next several months. After...years of not being in a relationship, and certainly not having regular sex, Lambert’s not complaing.

He brings Aiden lunch at the library occasionally, since he has to work weekends, and Aiden ends up at Lambert’s cooking meals for him more than once in a while. Geralt appreciates the variety, at any rate.

When Geralt met Aiden for the first time, Geralt did a double take, and Lambert still doesn’t know what that’s about, and he doesn’t think he wants to know, either. If Geralt has ever slept with Aiden, he...doesn’t know what he’ll do. Scream, at the very least.

They’re at Aiden’s tonight, and Lambert’s digging through his refrigerator. “Why the fuck do you have all this lettuce? You’d think you were the professional eater,” he gripes as he shoves no less than six heads of the lettuce out of the way to get to the milk.

Aiden snorts behind him. “You’d think, huh?”

Lambert’s distracted from the discovery by Aiden’s arms wrapping around his waist. Lambert turns around in the hold to put his arms around Aiden’s neck and tug him even closer. Aiden grinds his hips against him, but Lambert pushes him back a little. “We haven’t even eaten supper yet,” he chides.

Aiden sighs, a long, put upon thing. “I’m going to die of blue balls.”

“I think you’ll be just fine.”

“What’s next? You say you have a headache?” Aiden puts a hand over his forehead dramatically.

“No, I’ll just tell you to fuck off if I’m not interested. Don’t worry.”

Aiden leans in to bite at Lambert’s ear lobe, and Lambert shoves his face away. “Fuck off.”

“Aw, Lamb,” Aiden wheedles.

“Food, then sex. God, you’re insatiable.”

“Thank you.” Aiden looks entirely too pleased with himself, and Lambert rolls his eyes.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t, you love me,” Aiden says in a sing song voice.

Lambert groans, burying his face in his hands. “I never should have told you that.”

Aiden sobers for a moment. “I’m so glad you did. I love you, too.”

“Stop being such a sap and help me make supper.”

Aiden rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay, I get it; you’re allergic to feelings. I see how it is. You tell a man something once after the best blow job of your life and then just expect him to forget about it.”

“It was really nice,” Lambert admits.

“That would be because I am the number one wiener eater,” he says proudly.

Lambert shoves him. “Don’t be disgusting.”

Aiden just grins at him unabashedly, pulling the chef’s knife out of their drawer and brandishing it a little too familiarly for Lambert’s comfort. Lambert rolls his eyes. “Here, chop these for me.”

Aiden sets to work and within an hour, they have a comforting meal pulled together. Lambert portions the pasta out onto plates, and they make quick work of it, both of them having tiny portions. Lambert is mainly on semi solids and liquids in preparation for his next contest, and Aiden, he guesses, is being supportive. When they’re done, Aiden looks at his watch and stands up, yawning. “I’m going to have to take a rain check, if you’ll survive.”

Lambert rolls his eyes at him. “I think I’ll live. It was your idea, anyway.”

Aiden makes a face at him, but pulls him into a kiss anyway. “I have a few last minute prep things to do for tomorrow.”

“Like what? Do you need help?” Lambert asks, frowning, wondering if Aiden is making a celebratory cake for him, or something. That might be jumping the gun a bit.

“Hey, I can’t give away all of my secrets, can I?”

“I suppose not,” Lambert says, squinting at him.

“All right, well, I’ll see you then. We can ride together, okay?”

Lambert nods his assent as Aiden practically shoos him out the door. It’s still light outside, and this is possibly the first time he’s left Aiden’s apartment while the evening light has shined on him the whole time he’s known Aiden. He squints into the sun as he clambers into his car.

Well, whatever. He has stuff he should be doing, anyway. Eyes on the prize, he coaches himself as he pops in a few sticks of gum. He’s got this. He’s so, totally got this, and nothing is going to distract him from winning.

-

The next day finds Lambert frowning at his phone, as Aiden tells him something, speaking way too quickly. “Sorry, I know I said I would ride with you but Gunther is out sick and I’m going to have to work up until, like, the very last minute before the contest…”

“Well, you don’t have to come,” Lambert says, concerned that maybe expecting Aiden to attend is asking too much, especially when his work is short staffed.

Aiden just laughs. “I bet you’d just love that, huh?”

Lambert is a little puzzled on why Aiden would say that, and he’s trying to think of a reply when someone shouts something in the background of the call. “Hey, I have to go. Love you, bye!”

There’s the beep of a disconnected call, and Lambert brings the phone down from his ear to stare at it. That was… a little bizarre. Well, whatever. He can’t have anything distracting him now. There’s no way he’s going to lose two contests in a row, not after he had to wait months for the next one to come around.

Lambert drives to the contest, pointedly not noting how empty his passenger seat is without Aiden in it. He looks forward to spending time with him, so to have it cancelled always leaves him feeling melancholy.

He clenches his jaw and turns up the radio, his fingers tapping a frantic rhythm on the wheel.

By the time he arrives, anxiety is coiling in his gut and he’s already sweating. He sits in his car for a moment, blasting the air conditioning. If he loses again, is he officially a has been? He takes a deep breath as he gets out, walking up to the judges and turning in his paperwork.

He turns to look for Aiden in the crowd, but he doesn’t see him, so he must not be here yet. Lambert sighs as he searches the table lined with hot dogs for an empty seat, stopping when he sees—Aiden?

Lambert stares at Aiden with a slack jaw. “You’re—you—competing? What?”

“Lamb, what are you talking about? Are you okay? You don’t look so good.” Aiden pushes his chair back and hurries over to him, bringing a hand up to put on Lambert’s forehead, but Lambert swats him away.

“When did you sign up?” Lambert finally gets out.

Aiden squints. “Right after the last one? For real, are you alright?”

“The last one?” Lambert echoes.

“Yes. The last one. The one that I won?”

Lambert’s mouth flaps.

“That you won?” he practically screeches. He’s feeling a little dizzy.

“Did you get hit on the head?” Aiden asks, looking around nervously like he’s trying to find someone to ask for help. “Who do you think won that last contest, Lamb?”

Lambert sputters. “I don’t know; I was a little preoccupied!”

“Did you not look it up after? Oh my god, I thought you knew,” Aiden says in horror.

Lambert wants to cry, honestly. “It was you?”

“I felt bad when you were throwing up! You were puking and you didn’t even win! Sue me for being nice!”

Realization dawns on Lambert that this is why Geralt could barely contain his laughter after meeting Aiden. He did try to give him that newspaper clipping, after all. Surely it had a picture of the winner in it.

“Why did you think I was even there in the first place?” Aiden finally asks.

Lambert lets that settle over him for a moment. He still feels a little sick, but inexplicably he feels better, now that Aiden is in this with him. He pauses for a second of it. Now that he’s aware Aiden is in this with him. “Well, no one is allowed to beat me but you.”

“Deal. Hey, what did I tell you?”

Lambert groans. Aiden tells him lots of things, and his brain is not exactly cooperating with him at the moment. “I don’t know.”

Aiden nudges him with his elbow and gives him a meaningful raise of his eyebrow. “No, I think you do. Go on, don’t be afraid to admit it.”

What it must be pops into his head, and Lambert heaves a long suffering sigh, and he hopes it's one he’s going to be continuing to give for quite a while. “You’re the number one wiener eater.”

Aiden beams.

#the witcher #lambert #aiden #lambden #modern au #humor #contemplative writing

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.

“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”

“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”

“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”

Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”

Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”

“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.

“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”

“Tch! No, I haven’t!”

“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”

“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”

Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”

“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”

Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”

“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”

“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”

“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.

“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”

“Who?”

“The bartender from the party.”

Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”

“Maybe.”

Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”

“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”

“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”

Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”

Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”

Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”

“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”

“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”

“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”

“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.

According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.

“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.

“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”

“Tch… still pisses me off he even tried.”

“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.

“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”

“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”

“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”

“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”

“Just keep an eye on it.”

“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”

“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”

Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”

Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”

“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”

“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.

Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.

Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.

It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.

Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’

“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.

“Nope. Back to the office.”

He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’

The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!

In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.

“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”

“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”

Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.

“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.

“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”

“Take a guess,” he sneered back.

“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”

“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”

“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”

“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.

Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”

“Is that a threat?!”

“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”

“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.

“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”

“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”

Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”

“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”

“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”

“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”

Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.

Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.

Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”

“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”

“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.

Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”

Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.

“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.

“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.

“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #ch 6 #we'll take back heaven #petri808

[primroseyunho]

ateez as nyu guys

❀ ot8 ❀ this is just crack i'm so sorry this will make no sense if you don't go to nyu or have no real knowledge of it ❀ warnings/tags: crack, college!ateez, i cannot emphasise enough how stupid this is for real read at your own risk kiddos ❀ a/n: this is just for funsies for me to let out feelings about the guys i go to college with at this silly purple school (aka nyu) i go to lmAO and also to ease my way back into writing again. pls don't take any of this seriously lads ❀ word count: 1257

❀ kim hongjoong

nyu school: tisch

major: music production

not one of the clout chasing tisch kids but all the ones who are like that are totally obsessed with him

probably is doing a minor in politics or linguistics bc we know this boy loves to overwork himself

doesn't realise that all the girls who try to talk to him are flirting and not just being friendly

if you're classmates and you miss a day, he totally lets you borrow his notes ugh he'd be so sweet

i feel like he's the guy who you share friends with but don't actually know you're all mutual friends

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 6/10 because even though he's lovely i will always be wary of tisch boys and also don't overlap with them a bunch because i am a boring pre-law gal and not an art student

❀ park seonghwa

nyu school: stern

major: business

listen, yall, i cannot tell u how saddened i am to associate the angel of all heavens with st*rn but we gotta be honest with ourselves

best boy hwa is going to school for practical purposes

he would be one of the only four valid sternies ever all the rest of them can choke

he is a classy boi and fits in well with the whole rich kids vibe

he would mostly be friends with non-sternies or stern women

he is that bitch who rolls up to class at 8am in full designer looking like he got off a runway whilst the rest of us look like trash

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 6.5/10 he lost points because god stern kids are the worst and also we all feel such deep disgust and envy at the fancy looking 8am kids and that is exactly the kind of nyu guy seonghwa would be. he gained points though for being a stern guy who i wouldn't want to murder - that's a very difficult feat

❀ jeong yunho

nyu school: cas

major: data science

maybe not data science exactly but he definitely is a stem kid it's just the ~vibes~

he's a real one who would help my humanities ass pull through in the required science classes

is an elevate mentor (stem mentor program for high schoolers) and loves it so much

definitely used to accidentally mansplain all the time freshman year before he knew better

100% no doubt is part of the competitive frisbee team (yes that's a thing)

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 10/10 i can guarantee i'd see him in the kimmel cafeteria and would be texting all my friends about how rude and borderline illegal it is for him to be hot whilst shoving his face full of food. totally would flirt with him if we had class together

❀ kang yeosang

nyu school: gallatin

major: who tf knows

okay so quick context for this one, gallatin is where kids can literally design and make up their own major. literally they can major in anything as long as they can defend and explain it to an advisor

feel like this is fitting because really what even is happening inside this beautiful man's head half the time - do you know? because i sure as shit do not

he's an undercover gym bro but he goes to 404 fitness, not the palladium gym which is why we like him still

is one of the washington square park skater bois

captain of the quidditch team (yes, that's also a thing too, i am not kidding)

he's the kid in class who doesn't talk much but when he does it's really fucking smart shit

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 10000/10 oh besties gallatin skater boys might be my kryptonite and that is vaguely humiliating but lets skate on past that. he's the guy in my class who makes me feel gooey inside when he says i've made a good point. definitely thought i was in love with him for fall semester but by spring we never see each other again </3

❀ choi san

nyu school: steinhardt

major: education

he's the guy i've been friends with since freshman year but still never remember what his major is sorry bestie

works at the ULC as a tutor

somehow knows everyone and is at every party you end up at

everyone is at least slightly in love with him even if they are totally platonic

is in parliamentary debate club, taekwondo team, and history society

..... okay maybe not history society but let me pretend since i'm the history society vice president

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 8/10 had a thing for him freshman fall (although i probably had a crush on everyone i met freshman fall) but then became very good friends and now it's all platonic. he fits into the description of two of my closest friends too well for me to envision romance in this scenario whoops

❀ song mingi

nyu school: cas

major: maths

i am on my smart kid mingi agenda yall don't appreciate or hype this man's intelligence nearly as much as he deserves

he's the overgrown puppy friend who doesn't realise that he looks big and scary

holds the heavy as shit doors at every nyu building open for you god bless

is in the presidential honors program

tragically he's probably a palladium gym bro

definitely gets high in the park and has probably tried acid lets be honest here

one of the safety guy friends at parties who i love because it means i can get inebriated without feeling unsafe

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 11/10 smart men who also satisfy my size kink rlly pull me in with such little effort. also i am frequently found painting and reading in the park whilst my friends get high with me babysitting them since i am almost always the only sober one. the tables turn when it's time to get drunk in the park though hehe

❀ jeong wooyoung

nyu school: tisch

major: performance studies

this dramatic little shit is a tisch kid through and through

such an extrovert and knows literally everyone ever

does performance studies because he's an all rounder over achiever

flirts almost as often as he breathes

has hooked up with at least one of your friends but isn't a dick in the aftermath

probably a micro influencer who posts tiktoks romanticising new york city life

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 6.5/10 i would definitely be friends with him but all the flirting gives off big banter chill vibes and not romantic ones. he's still hot though so like, i'd look every once and a while, ya know *wink wonk*

❀ choi jongho

nyu school: steinhardt

major: vocal performance

listen no one knows why vocal performance isn't in tisch (the literal arts school) and is instead in steinhardt but just go with it

has one of the most insane schedules because of all the private practices and rehearsals he has to attend

you'd meet him in a required core class and both struggle through it together

would share his table at bobst (the library) with no complaint wow what an angel

an unexpected and undercover pre-law kid - you'd only find out because you both went to a ULS meeting

also an undercover party boy you cannot convince me otherwise he is absolutely rooftop party crush material

fucks it up so good at open mic and karaoke nights

how likely am i to have crushed on him: infinity/10 no no see this is now a problem because i have created the perfect man in my head now and he doesn't exist in reality omfg jongho??? as a vocal performance guy???? who's PRELAW??? dream man

okay that's the end of me wishing i went to college with ateez love yall and you're insane if you've gotten this far askjfhkjaf lots of kissies for u all

#ateez imagines #ateez #ateez fics #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #ateez x reader #choi san #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #song mingi #choi jongho #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa

[sunlightandsuffering]

milfkasa > dilfren

Mikasa must always come first

AHAHAH THIS IS SO FUNNY 🤣🤣 she does and Eren knows it 🤣🤣 ugh imma write a Drabble bc I have to wait 2 hours in my car.

Usually it’s him that gets hit on, almost every time it never fails, always him. He heads into parent teacher interviews and they grill him, the women like hawks. Single moms who want him to be their kid’s father figure, their next husband.

Of course he deals with this like a real man every time, because he’s not scared of school moms not at all. So like any smart husband would, he hides behinds Mikasa and makes his angry wife deal with it. Usually a menacing glare is enough to scare them off.

Today is no different, since he’s been alone in the lobby while Mikasa hits the bathroom he’s been asked by three different woman which child is his, which class they’re in. Followed promptly with aww she’s such a sweet girl when he tells them Yumi is his oldest. When he follows with the fact that he has two more they put their hands on his forearms and without fail ask if Mrs. Yeager is still in the picture, hoping for divorce, an impending separation as they eye his wedding ring. Maybe he's widowed, and he always has to break their hearts, but he doesn't really mind too much, Mikasa is always worth it.

Some brunette woman is going in for the kill, she’s been scoping him out for a little while now and finally she works up the nerve to say something.

“So is your child in this class to?”

Eren is about to answer, about to go through the whole spiel all over again when he spots his lovely wife coming to save him. Only she’s not alone.

There is a very attractive man with her, and Eren can only assume it’s Mr. Smith, his one and only competition. The one he’s heard everyone fawning over at after-school pickup. At first he'd honestly been a little offended that the PTA moms were cheating on him with another crush, but then he'd thought about Mikasa hearing him say that allowed and decided to purge it from his brain.

Eren’s gaze turns murderous when he sees just how chummy this jackass is being with his wife. That’s HIS wife Damn it!

Mikasa is laughing to, what the fuck??

But Eren will admit Mr. Smith is very attractive, black hair almost as nice as Mikasa’s and blue eyes he can see from here. Standing together with his wife they make a striking pair, Mikasa obviously outshining Mr. Smith obviously.

She’s wearing a little sweater dress to torture him with, exposing her pretty legs, those well-curved calves and the deep V of the sweater showing more than enough of her cleavage. It clearly has Mr.Smith’s attention, his eyes are practically glued to it.

Eren ignored brunette trying to talk to him and chooses to make his stand, Mikasa always does it for him. It’s really the least he can do.

Also he is insanely possessive and Mr. Smith just patted her shoulder when she laughed, unacceptable.

Before he can stop himself and consider Mikasa’s wrath for claiming her like a dog he does it. Eren stands, shocking the brunette and makes it to Mikasa in 3 short strides, arms finding her waist and chin resting on her head.

She stiffens for just a moment, before she relaxes, realizing it’s him.

“Watcha doin baby I think it’s almost our turn?”

It’s not almost their turn but he doesn’t want her talking to this attractive man it’s not fair.

“Eren,” Mikasa smiles tightly and he knows he’s in trouble for claiming her like a caveman but she’s his! He tightens his arms around her slightly, tucking her into his chest more.

“Hi, I’m Eren Mikasa’s husband.” Eren is very clear when he introduces himself to Mr. Smith and the man visibly pales.

“Nice to meet you, Mikasa was just telling me Yumi is in the same class as my son, thought it might be nice to organize a play date.”

“Maybe.” Eren tells him, smiling the whole time while he silently wars with Mikasa to keep her in his hold.

Their children will never be hanging out together, over his dead fucking body.

Mr. Smith looks unsure how to continue and Eren takes the opportunity to tug his wife away, “Well we should be getting back now, wouldn’t want to miss our names.”

“Bye Mikasa,” Mr. Smith tells his wife and Eren doesn’t give her a chance to say anything more dragging her away.

“Eren!” Mikasa explodes as soon as they’re alone and back in their half of the hallway in front of Yumi’s classroom.

He’s in big trouble.

“He was touching you!” He defends weakly.

“He rubbed my shoulder once!”

“Doesn’t matter only im allowed to rub your shoulders.”

They’re arguing in the middle of the hall and he thanks god everyone else is busy.

“Oh my god Eren we’re married! We have children!”

He pouts, sitting himself down on a nearby bench while she lectures him.

“I deal with shit like that all the time with you! I don’t do THAT.”

He looks away sullenly, he refuses to apologize.

She glares at him, arms crossed and tapping her foot, just like she does when she's upset with Yumi, disciplining their daughter, her's in big trouble. However, unlike Yumi, Eren has ways of dealing with his wife and they usually include kisses and bribery.

He grabs her by the waist as she’s about to launch into another tirade, causing her to help as she falls forward into his arms.

“Don’t care, you’re MY wife Mikasa and I’ll let everyone know.”

She scowls, “You don’t have to be such a caveman about it, you might as well have peed on me.”

He showers her in kisses, one on her nose, some to her eyelids, the apples of her cheeks.

“My Mikasa.”

She groans, “Yeah you stupid caveman your Mikasa.”

He smirks, holding her in his lap nice and close.

“You know I think I saw an empty janitors closet down the hall.”

She pauses, looking mock horrified as she considers his proposition, smacking him.

“Eren!” She chastises, but just like he expects she squirms a bit in his arms before leaning in, “I’ll race you.”

Then she abruptly takes off down the hall and Eren follows her at top speed.

#lys's drabbles

[thebrixtons]

questions & answers about your oc!

i was tagged by the lovely @wa-royal-tea! i’m super late to this, but it was sm fun to do and a really good character writing exercise !! i’m tagging @nexility-sims, @thestenhams, and @evandroyals for this oc questions & answers tag game 💗

q&a is under the cut!!

1) What is your favorite sport?

Soccer! Or football, depending on where you’re from, I guess.

2) What is your favorite color?

Sage green. Everything in my bedroom is sage green! But I also like medium blue, like a Pantone dresden blue. Is that too specific?

3) What is your favorite movie?

That’s an easy one. Halloweentown, for sure.

4) Taken? Single?

Are you allowed to ask that? You are? Umm... next question, please.

5) What would be your perfect day?

Having my mama be home, since she’s always busy. She’d cook us all her Simyeon scallion pancakes for breakfast, and I’d play with my little brother, Rhys. If my papa’s not busy, we’d go down to the beach and play soccer for hours.

6) Are you a night owl or an early bird!

I’m an early bird. Usually, I’m the first to wake up in the morning.

7) Do you think you’re smart?

That’s a trick question, right? I guess I’m smart? I get better grades than my twin sister.

8) How do you like to be comforted when you’re sad?

I don’t like being alone when I’m sad. I want someone to distract me with macarons and mochi and make me laugh.

9) Where do you want to be in 5 years time?

In five years, I’ll be like 25 years old? And by then, I’ll have graduated university and started preparing to work as a full-time royal. I’d like to play soccer professionally but— uh, never mind. Where I want to be and where I’m going to be are different.

12) Do you have any regrets?

No, not yet! I hope I won’t have any.

13) Who are/is your best friends?

My twin sister, Lina, is my best friend. I feel like we understand each other better than other people do? But I’m also really close with my friends I met at boarding school. Ren, Arthur, Nora, and Penny! I love them. 

14) What was your dream last night?

Last night, I dreamed I fell into a puddle and was transported into this alternate reality. The sky was purple and there were monsters everywhere! I usually have really wild dreams... though they’re mostly nightmares.

15) Who in your family are you closest to?

Lina, obviously! I’m also really close with my papa.

16) What is the one thing people don’t know about you?

I have asthma. I try to control it as much as possible— and always take my medication— so that when I’m playing soccer or working out I won’t have an asthma attack.

17) Best present ever given to you?

When I was 12 years old, I went through an embarrassing photography phase. Mama bought me a brand new DSLR for Winterfest! I think it’s a Rikon, or something. I’m starting to get back into taking pictures of special moments and the people I love.

18) What is your favorite food?

Anything my mama makes. But my favorite would have to be her homemade dumplings. And we always have it with this secret sauce she makes. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I could cry thinking about it.

19) Earliest childhood memory?

I was like three years old, and I remember watching my papa look out the window. It was snowing. I think he hates the snow.

20) Do you have a crush?

I... do, but it’s none of your business.

21) If you could live in a different period, which one would it be?

I’d rather live in this time period. We have technology, cars, cellphones, and a modern understanding of hygiene. That’s good enough for me.

22) Any nicknames?

A lot of people call me Clem.

23) Introvert or Extrovert?

I love talking to people and making new friends, so that makes me an extrovert.

24) Favorite book?

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee. A close second is These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong.

25) Hobby?

Aside from soccer and anything athletic, I like photography, painting even though I’m really bad at it, reading, and journaling— you know, with the cute calligraphy pens and stuff.

26) Beach or pool?

Beach. There’s nothing better than laying out at the beach and feeling the sun on your skin.

27) First kiss?

Seriously?

28) Favorite subject

Anything science-related. History, too!

29) Age

I’m 19! I turn 20 years old next month.

30) Full name

Clementine Beauchamp.

31) Pets?

I don’t have any.

33) Favorite song?

I can’t choose! Right now, my favorite song is Step On Up by Ariana Grande.

34) Where do you live?

At my parents’ house?

35) What/who do you miss?

I miss my... close friend, Ren.

36) Which school(s) do/did you go to?

I’m a freshman at Foxbury Institute.

38) Tattoo?

Uh, no. Those hurt.

39) Done anything illegal?

Huh? Illegal? Nope.

40) Fav TV show?

Girl from Nowhere. I love it, even though it’s kind of dark?

41) Do you know any celebrities?

Mama knows celebrities and movie stars, so I’ve met a bunch of them and their kids at her parties. I guess that counts?

42) Dreams/wishes?

I want to be happy. 

43) Are you very competitive?

Uh, yes.

45) Greatest accomplishment?

Getting a full-ride soccer scholarship to Foxbury Institute. I hope I’ll become captain of the women’s soccer team by junior year!

46) If you were stuck on a desert island, who would you be stuck with?

My papa. Since he was in the military for a long time, he knows how to survive in all kinds of places. 

47) Zodiac sign

I’m an Aquarius sun, Taurus moon, and Aries rising!

48) Where were you born?

At a hospital in Newbury?

49) Sexuality?

I don’t know. Pan?

50) What color are your eyes?

Dark brown.

51) What color is your hair?

... Dark brown.

52) Do you want/ have kids?

I’d love to have children when I’m settled down and comfortable. Two, maybe. A boy and a girl.

53) When is your birthday?

January 21st!

54) Current mood?

I’m fine.

55) Do you send goodnight or good morning texts to people?

Yup! If I’m too busy to text my family and friends during the day, I like to at least message them in the morning or night.

57) How long do you sleep for?

8 hours. From around 10pm to 6am.

58) How long does it take you to get up in the morning?

As soon as I’m awake, I’m ready to go.

59) How long does it take you to get ready?

Including a shower, getting dressed, and all that stuff? I’d say like 20 minutes.

60) Meyer Briggs personality type?

ENFJ.

#thebrixtons #sim: clementine #character q&a #character building #this was actually really fun and challenging! #and i also got to have a cute little photoshoot w clem #it’s not her style but 🧎🏽‍♀️ #anyways... #she’s so cute #i miss her : ( #someone find her she’s lost in the handbag closet

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

If Glee did a Taylor Swift Tribute Episode...

Just my opinions, feel free to add on to them. I know I have some fellow gleek swifties following me. I’d love to hear your thoughts. Obviously they have to do some of the hits but I think some people would have some out of the box picks.

*This post assumes all Taylor songs are available to choose from as of May 14th 2021 but focuses on Taylor’s first 6 albums (if you want more glee and Taylor I have fics with that; LOVER and FOLKLORE) and takes liberties with where this episode’s placement is in terms of canon. But since it’s all made up anyway who cares (but Blaine’s involved so I guess season 3 idk).*

Okay, trying to do a full plot here (completely inspired by @kurtdeservesbetter head canon posts. I hope this lives up to her fabulous posts). This will be my version of glee so everyone gets solos and Rachel can’t hog the spotlight. Also, this is about to be super long (both post wise and episode wise).

Let’s open the first episode with

...Ready For It because the New Directions are in their reputation era. Santana does the opening cough centerstage. Everyone in black and/or camo green outfits (can you just see Kurt in a dark green bedazzled snake jacket, Santana in a black leather dress, and Tina digging out some goth clothes for people to borrow?), snakes everywhere, but probably no Karyn (she just wouldn’t fit on the auditorium stage). Santana takes the first verse but we have Blaine step up for verse 2. (I just love their friendship in the Michael tribute, cute little badasses are BACK. Also him singing “Burton to this Taylor” is such a Klaine thing to do).

Everyone is still dressed in their rep outfits but we’re in the choir room now. Mr. Schue is talking about why Taylor had to disappear and clap back with rep, how rough the industry is for women and tries to uplift the ladies in the room and encourage them to not silence their voices (cue snarky comment from Santana about Rachel needing to be silent).

Then, Mr. Schue goes on about how you can only understand how Taylor got to her rep era by studying her earlier music. So we have a performance of Tim McGraw. Simple, front of the choir room performance, maybe Puck does guitar, and sitting on stools.

Everyone is surprised to find out how pumped Sam is for this assignment but he is all over it. “It's about time we did some country in this room.” Cue Sam and Quinn at her locker talking about their ‘date’ last night, Sam’s all cute and teasing and Quinn is not into it. She tells him it was fun but she was wrong, they shouldn’t do this again. In turn, he does a wonderful performance of Bye Bye Baby. He thought it was more but clearly he’s “a part of her past.”

Then, we’re in the empty choir room. Tina and Mike are there. (I love their cutesy duets) They sing Everything Has Changed and it’s utterly adorable. Can’t you hear Mike asking Tina if she’s “good to go” like Ed does? And while we’re on the subject of cute duets and RED, we flash to the courtyard to see Santana and Brittany. They turn Stay Stay Stay into a duet. “I’ve been loving you for quite some time,” “before you I only dated self-indulgent takers who took all their problems out on me,” “no one else is gonna love me when I’m mad, mad, mad,” and “it’s occurring to me that I’d like to hang out with you for my whole life” it’s perfect for them. Adorable ladies kisses are had.

Let’s toss in some boy drama for fun. Idk shit about football but somehow Puck is praised by their coach over Finn, which gets him all pissy, and Puck’s upset and jealous because Finn is back with Quinn now (this is why Quinn shut Sam now earlier, she changed her mind). Can we say duet of Bad Blood? “So if you’re coming my way...just don’t.”

After their dramatics, we have a Brittany solo in the choir room. It’s after school at this point (or whenever glee club is). Brittany does You’ll Always Find You Way Back Home.

When she finishes Mr. Schue tries to explain that it’s a Hannah Montana song. Britt injects that it’s confusing how she’s really Miley Cryus “like how can you be two people at once?”. Before Mr. Schue can continue, Kurt pipes up “you never specified that the songs had to be sung by Taylor Swift, just that they were her songs.” Mercedes adds, “yeah, Mr. Schue, Taylor wrote that song.” Mr. Schue concedes that he has once again been outwitted by Kurtcedes. The friends do their little hand shake thing.

With a sigh, Mr. Schue asks Mike if he’s ready to go and Mike asks to take things to the auditorium for some dancing room. Everyone’s on stage with him and it’s kind of a group number but Mike is the focus. It’s Shake It Off. All inspired by the music video. He’s tried to fit in elsewhere (i.e. football, with the smart kids, etc..) but he’s really himself in glee when he’s dancing.

Part 2 of Taylor Tribute Episodes

We begin with an ALL GIRL NUMBER of A Place In This World. Just because.

Glee is dismissed and we zoom in on Artie. He’s watching Tina with Mike and Brittany with Santana. Both Tina and Britt have broken his heart by this point. So, he’s rolling down the halls singing A Perfectly Good Heart. While Artie’s soloing, we cut to Rachel watching Finn and Quinn chatting. Artie’s song playing over this scene. Rachel is feeling similar to him at the moment.

She’s pretty sure Finn dumped her to be with Quinn again even though Kurt and Blaine told her they saw Quinn and Sam at the movies last night together making out in the back row. Fine, if that’s how he’s going to be, she doesn’t need him anyway. Cue Mr. Perfectly Fine. Uber dramatic solo performance walking around McKinley’s halls watching Finn and Quinn together ending in the auditorium alone. (see what I did there, both broken hearted peeps singing a song with Perfectly in it (this was not at all planned, actually, happy accident))

After some good old heartbreak, we have Kurt and Blaine on screen. Blaine walks into the auditorium to see Kurt sitting on the edge of the stage. “What’s all the fuss?” he asks from the door. Kurt had texted him “EMERGENCY.” The band starts to play and Kurt just starts singing, Enchanted. It’s time to profess their love for each other, just like they sing Perfect together in the car, this duet needs no audience. Blaine catches up and sings while walking towards his boyfriend. It’s very reminiscent of past New Directions competitions where they come in from the back and make their way to the stage. “Wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you?” Kurt and Blaine both know the answer to that question now but just a few months ago they were both wondering that exact thing.

They kiss before we cut to Kurt and Blaine walking hand in hand into the choir room where everyone else is already. Mr. Schue is praising the performances thus far and of course asks Rachel if she’s ready to solo (some practice for her completion solo). This causes an uproar from Mercedes and Santana. Another classic argument of how she gets too many solos. Mr. Schue tries to shut them both down but Santana tells Rachel to watch her back, and we get three very different reactions to this. 

All three girls storm out.

First, we visit Mercedes alone in the courtyard. This solo is all about being hurt over this great thing in her life (glee) and her being denied happiness within that club. Thus, Cold As You. (mostly to indulge myself because she’d blow us away with this song).

Next, Rachel in the auditorium. A huge bridge on stage (very Speak Now Tour of her), belting out Better Than Revenge. Santana’s dropped the last straw (the humiliation, name calling, Finn at one point and now solos,) it’s too much this time.

And finally, Santana walking around McKinley, showing us flashes of Rachel ‘outshining’ her and the rest of glee and Mr. Schue being unfair, while singing Look What You Made Me Do.

Tina walks out at the same time as Rachel, Mercedes, and Santana but no one seems to put two and two together. She feels just as underutilized as the latter two do. She ends up in an empty classroom and sings The Outside. “Nobody ever lets me in” and “on the outside looking in.”

Once the 3, err 4, divas have left the room, Finn sticks up for Rachel. Quinn, of course, has something to say about this along the lines of “you always defend her.” Finn, intimated by her ‘scary Quinn’ fumbles and blurts “because she’s my girlfriend” WHICH IS NOT TRUE AT THIS POINT. Quinn dumps him on the spot, cuts quickly to Blaine and Kurt sharing some ‘oh my god, can you believe this’ expressions, and vanishes from the room.

By this point, Rachel is long gone from the auditorium but the bridge is still there.

Here’s where we go way off script but imagine, Quinn has decided to just quit boys. They’ve all failed her anyway, she’s better off being alone. She walks up the bridge and thinks to herself “god Rachel’s so dramatic, where did this thing even come from” before it hits her “fuck, I’m as bad as Finn. I want her.” Then, she starts singing Clean to herself in the auditorium, likely tearing up throughout and ending with a good cry. (Because Dianna would DELIVER with Clean.)

While Quinn is having a sexuality crisis, the rest of glee is still happening. They’re discussing upcoming competition and debating solos and songs.

Kurt’s all: “Mr. Schue, if I may” and performs a lovely rendition of Call It What You Want. Those opening lines are too good. “My castle (ie McKinley) crumbled overnight, brought a knife to a gun fight (ie couldn’t fight off Dave Karofsky), “I’m doing better than I ever was ‘cause my baby’s fit like a daydream,” and “at least I did one thing right.” When he’s done, Blaine’s a mess in the back of the choir room, and Mr. Schue says: “not really what we’re looking for but very nice, Kurt” however, Kurt’s too busy sitting beside Blaine teasing him about blushing.  

Then, the missing girls return to the room having sung out their emotions. Quinn, having realized her feelings for Rachel, ends up soloing You Belong With Me to the New Directions in the choir room. Odd looks all around, no one knows what’s up with her and why does she keep glancing at Rachel? (Faberry just fit so well I had to add it, don’t know if I’m a shipper or not but it’s here now) (also thanks to @spicygemini for pointing out the obvious “Quinn would have ate YBWY”).

Mr. Schue wants to move the group to the audition to perform their final number of the Taylor Swift tribute well but Tina asks to sing first. He’s surprised but allows it, taking a seat with the rest of the New Directions.

Tina sings Beautiful Ghosts. “Watch from the dark, wait for my life to start” because New Directions is refusing to use her talents AGAIN. She’s singing this to Rachel and the girls who were in the Treble Tones. Because she absolutely SMASHES this number, the glee kids agree she gets solo for their next competition (and they deliver on that promise).

To conclude Part 2 of the Taylor tribute episode, we have a group performance of Long Live. “One day we will be remembered”, “all the years we stood there on the sidelines wishing for right now”, “for a moment a band of thrives in ripped up jeans got to rule the world” ie wining completions, “when they look at the pictures please tell them my name...”

#this took so long please enjoy it #Taylor tribute glee episode #glee head canon #gleek swifie #glee #taylor swift

[13uswntimagines]

Under the Stars (Mal x Reader)

Request: Mal Pugh imagine where the reader is her childhood best friend but they've never admitted their feelings for each other but it comes out when one of the youngin's start to hit on her when Mal introduces her to the team?

Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog​

You had known Mal for as long as you could remember, and for as long as Mal could remember you loved stars. You had been obsessed with them since you could walk, so it wasn’t a shock when you had decided to study astronomy. 

It wasn’t often that you and Mal could go stargazing together, with you working at the science center and her being a soccer star, so when she was in town, it had been a no brainer for her to take her friends to see you (Lindsey would argue that staring creepily at a random tour guide wasn’t “seeing” but the ticket lady said you had to finish your 3:00 before you could take them around. You were just too pretty to ignore anyway). 

Mal watched as Lindsey and Rose checked out the coin racing game at the entrance, waiting near the poster that said “tour starts here” for you to show up. She wiped her palms on her jeans, thinking about how long it had been. Was it really three years since you had actually seen her in person? And then she saw you. 

You were walking down the hall talking to your 3:00 tour group. You were walking backwards, of course, telling the group about the regularly scheduled events at the planetarium that they could sign up for. Mal remembered how last time you saw her, you had challenged her to a backwards race, “the first race I have ever won against Mal Pugh.” You were so excited, that Mal didn’t even mind being the designated driver that night (the loser’s prize for the competition), even though it was one of the few chances to go out with friends between seasons. 

“Did you already call dibs, or is she up for grabs?” Emily asked, nudging Mal out of her reverie. 

“First, gross. She’s a person not a seat in the car or the last Oreo. Second, She’s my childhood best friend,” Mal scoffed. Then she elbowed Emily sharply, noticing where her gaze had gone. You were still walking backward, and Emily had noticed. 

“So, single childhood best friend or…?” Emily asked distractedly. 

“You’re not asking her out,” Mal said again, as Lindsey and Rose returned from their game. She tried to say it like Carli said “do it again”, with a tone that allowed no argument. But it came out a bit more defensive. 

“Why? Sonny’s well within her rights. There’s not like a rule against it,” Lindsey bit her lip. Even in that terrible museum polo, you looked hot. 

“I’m with Linds on this on…” Rose shrugged with a smirk, more interested in annoying Mal than anything else. 

“I hate you all,” Mal hissed, turning and moving to stand in front of them, blocking their view of you. Lindsey and Emily each just smiled and took a step to the side, presumably so that their view was no longer blocked. Assholes. 

“Well, I certainly hope you don’t hate me!” Your voice came from directly behind her. 

“Y/N!” Mal cheered, whipping around and throwing her arms over you. You pulled her into an equally tight hug, throwing your arms over her shoulders and pressing your cheek to hers (completely missing the mischievous look the other three women shared). 

“Hey Mal, are you going to introduce us to your lovely friend?” Emily began, in a falsely sweet voice. 

“Or are you just going to keep using her as a teddy bear?” Lindsey finished, quirking her eyebrow up. Mal’s cheeks flamed red. If she didn’t think this tour was going to be interesting before, she knew now. 

****

Mal could already see the headlines now. 3 USWNT players murdered with a model rocket. Or Murder at the museum- the forward who snapped and bashed her teammates with the scale sun. She was going to kill someone if they made another pass at you. 

“So in this display here you can see what is left of a meteor that fell downtown. Now meteors are made of stone or iron, and they typically burn up in the atmosphere. This one must have been very large when it entered earth’s atmosphere because it was still two inches long when it landed on Elm street in 1976.” 

“Well, maybe you’re a meteor then because I’m burning up around you,” Lindsey smirked, bumping your side. You sent a glance Mal’s way, glad to see that she was interested in your many factoids. She seemed way more engaged in the tour than last time, and was listening to every word you exchanged with her friends with rapt attention. 

“No, it’s the earth’s atmosphere that causes the meteor’s to burn. You see the layer of molecules making up the Earth’s mesosphere rub against them, generating heat through the friction generated by the meteor’s speed. I suppose it is a little warm in here though, the next room should be better. It’s the largest model of a rocket west of the Mississippi,” Your hands waved wildly with your excitement. The rocket room was your second favorite in the entire museum. 

“Well I know a thing or two about friction, and I even brought my very large rocket with me. I could show it to you if you want,” Emily saddled up beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You shrugged her off, beginning to walk backwards out of the room. 

“So as you can see, this room was designed to look like a miniature set up of the launch of the Friendship 7, the rocket launch that put John Glenn on the first man-piloted orbit around the Earth.”

“I would love if we could rocket past the friendship orbit” Rose said salaciously, blatantly ignoring the hole Male was staring into her head.

“Oh but it’s a really interesting piece of history, and was actually showcased in the recent film Hidden Figures. The Apollo 11 mission is more famous of course, but the Friendship 7 mission actually was a large part of the space race. The Friendship orbited the earth three times with an autopilot failure, so John Glen had to manually pilot the spacecraft-” you started.

“I could show you how I manually pilot my spacecraft,” Lindsey winked, her lips twitching before she could school her features. Mal glared at her. It wasn’t fair that they were using your obliviousness as entertainment. 

“You have a model too? And it flys?” You asked, mouth agape. Models like that were not cheap, even if you got them secondhand. “That’s not fair. Is it like a USWNT thing?”

“Oh yeah, we women’s soccer stars have some amazing remote control shuttles,”  Rose nodded, somehow able to keep a serious expression. 

 “Mal, why haven’t you ever shown me yours?” Emily suddenly had a ‘coughing fit’ and Rose patted her on the back as they both hid their laughter at your phrasing. You were too busy glaring at Mal to notice. “I thought you were my best friend.” 

“Trust us, she wishes she could, but she’s just too chicken to admit it,” Lindsey mumbled under her breath, but you heard it. Your head snapped in her direction. What was Mal too chicken to admit, that she liked rockets too? What was the worst thing that could happen? You would probably tease her just like she always teased you. 

“Ok, that’s enough,” Mal said, giving the finger to Lindsey out of your line of sight. 

“So I’m kinda confused,” you said, looking at Mal. Wait, was she blushing?

“They’ve been flirting with you to mess with me,” 

“Oh…” Mal cringed at your voice, the way you somehow clipped the word short, but also seemed to fill the silence following it. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. 

You brought your hand up to rub the back of your neck, as you stared at the suddenly interesting ground. “So, you’ve been listening to me ramble just so you could tease me later about how oblivious I was?” you asked sadly. You had really wanted this to go well. To impress the girl you had been in love with for as long as you could remember, and your geeky interest in space had fucked that up. 

“No, they want to tease me about my massive crush on you,” Mal rolled her eyes, stepping a step towards you and cupping your still red cheeks. 

“How massive?” You asked like a two year old, licking your lips. 

 “Think Jupiter sized.” 

“That is pretty big,” You said, nodding your head thoughtfully, “More than three Earths could fit into its red spot alone.”

“Hmm,” Mal hummed, her lips mysteriously getting closer to yours, even though you hadn’t moved. 

“The gravity machine is in the next room if you three wanna go ahead,” You waved your hand in that direction, never taking your eyes off of Mal. 

You heard Emily whine out a “But this was just starting to get good,” and Lindsey’s responding “Shut up Disani and keep walking.,” 

“Now that they’re gone, I can do something I’ve been waiting to do since we were kids,” Mal’s breath fanned against your lips a second before her skin touched your own. It was slow and sweet and made even more perfect by the fact that you were where you had always loved being with her. Under the stars.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #mal pugh x reader #mal pugh imagine

[ecto-american]

The Bachelor

Phic Phight oneshot for @skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet

On FFN and AO3

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

"I don't need help getting a date, Jack," Vlad told him shortly. Why did he even come over to FentonWorks? He couldn't even remember why. At least he had some coffee to sip on. If Jack was actually good for anything, it was brewing good coffee.

"Oh come on, V-man! It's not like that! It's to raise money for education!" Jack tried to persuade as he was pouring himself his own cup. Vlad made a small face at the idea. "There's going to be lots of bachelors up there with ya, it won't be just you!"

"I don't think so." He had much better things to do than be paraded around.

"Please Vlad?" Jack nearly begged.

"You know, Vlad, you'd be quite the crowd-drawer," Maddie finally spoke up. Vlad glanced over at her. She was focused on some ectoplasmic samples that were on the counter, dangerously close to some chicken that was marinating for dinner. Mental note; do NOT stay for dinner tonight. "You're likely Amity Park's most sought after bachelor." She looked over her shoulder at him, and with a clearly fake smile, she added, "It'd be really good for you to have a nice woman who's interested in you."

Vlad frowned at her emphasis. He took another drink. It would look good if he showed up for appearances, got it over with and wowed some whatever woman into helping his media image. Election season was coming up, and he was up against the ex-mayor. Doing something for the children would definitely boost him.

"...It is for charity," he said slowly. "And after all, a man like me could fetch for a nice price."

"Of course!" Jack boomed excitedly. "You were voted sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan this year!" Oh god, why the hell did Jack know that? And say that? "Trust me, the crowd'll got mad for you!"

Vlad forced a smile.

"I cannot wait."

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

He really could have waited. Friday night had come, and he found himself very reluctantly walking around the Casper High gym, looking at all the silent auction items up on display on cheap collapsable tables. Vlad mentally thanked himself for making sure Daniel would be too busy all night with Skulker to even have the time to come around to laugh at him.

Ugh, nothing really that good was around up for auction in here. Except for him, obviously. He could tell who was a bachelor for auction just by seeing who else was way overdressed to be standing around in a public high school on a Friday night, and Vlad already knew that he was the best option. He spied another one of these men as the individual picked his nose and wiped it on one of the tables. Vlad made a grossed out face. Easily, the best option.

He glanced around more, boredly trying to waste another twenty minutes before he had to go to the auditorium for the bachelor auctioning. This was the worst. Why did he agree to this? His eyes scanned for any familiar face.

"Harriet!" Vlad instantly recognized the journalist. She turned to face him, giving a small smile and wave when she realized who it was. He took a few steps over towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"My niece goes to Casper High," she replied. "So I decided to come around." She nodded her head at the silent auction she was seemingly considering. It was a high end camera bundle, including not just a high end camera but extra lenses, batteries, the case, the whole works honestly, donated by a local electronics store. "Check it out. Maybe even buy a date so that my mother stops asking me about when I'm getting married," she lightly joked. Vlad chuckled.

"You should consider just buying me," Vlad half-joked back. "I'm by far your best option." Harriet gave a hum as she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" she inquired. Vlad motioned to himself as if it was obvious, flashing a smile.

"Of course. Self made billionaire, tech industry pioneer, scientist, mayor of this fine city, and that's just the beginning," he bragged. She lightly shook her head with a smirk.

"Part time Dairy King worker that somehow caught the ice cream machine on fire, Skunk Punks lead singer whose voice cracked every time he sung anything and guitarist who couldn't play guitar," she listed off. Vlad rolled his eyes with a frown. "Idiot who kept sticking his head into the lab equipment machines and lost his eyebrows for six months. Skater wanna-be that broke both of his ankles trying to do tricks on the campus fountain." Vlad scowled.

"You can stop now," he complained. Harriet laughed.

"Oh, I almost need to buy you purely so that I can remind you that you're not all that and a bag of chips," she replied. "And I can finally corner you into an actual interview. You keep pushing me off." She faked a pout. "It's almost like you don't wanna be around me."

"Don't you have to be nosy somewhere else?" he asked.

"Hmm, not tonight." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I should go find a seat for the auction. You should probably get up on stage, make yourself look all nice and presentable."

Vlad rolled his eyes, waving her off.

"I need to use the restroom first," he replied. "You head on out."

"See up on the stage. Too bad this isn't Chippendales," she joked. Vlad felt his cheeks flush, and he glared at her. She walked off. Vlad glanced down at the camera bundle she had been eying. He glanced at the auction sheet, and he could tell by the handwriting that she had put in a bid that he knew somebody would eventually counter-offer. Vlad wrote his auctioning number down, and a bid he knew nobody would go over before he made his way to the auditorium.

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

Finally, it was his turn. They put him last, which he completely understood. Always save the best for last. He nearly had dozed off in boredom in his seat while everybody else was auctioned off for barely a hundred dollars.

"We'll start the bidding, as always, at fifty dollars," the overly enthusiastic host said. Vlad mentally scoffed. He was definitely worth more than that. Ugh, this was the last time he did anything to help children. Fuck those little brats. "Fifty-five!"

A bunch of the auction fans shot up in the air. Vlad smiled in satisfaction.

"Oh wow! Okay, well how about sixty-five?" None of the hands went down. "Seventy-five." Two hands went down. "Eighty-five?" Three more hands reluctantly went down. "A hundred?" Most of the hands kept on standing. "Well!" the host chuckled, before directing his attention to Vlad. "You sure are a popular fella!"

No shit. He was a billionaire.

"Let's jump up a bit! One hundred fifty!" Finally, a good amount of the hands went down, leaving only a handful up. "One hundred seventy-five!" No hands down. "Two hundred!" A few reluctantly went down, leaving only four. "Okay, okay! How about-"

"Three hundred!" one of the women called out. The auctioneer looked surprised.

"Oh! Oh um. Okay! Does anybody wanna go higher than three hundred?" he asked.

"Three twenty-five!" Harriet's voice was instantly recognized by Vlad, and he stared in surprise.

"Three-fifty!" the first woman rebutted. Vlad studied her, only to quickly notice that this was a woman he really hadn't ever met before.

"Three seventy five!" Harriet wasted no time putting in her counter offer.

"Four hundred!"

"Four twenty five!"

"Four fifty!"

Vlad watched Harriet as the reporter's jaw clenched. She was staring at the competition with a hard stare.

"Five hundred!" she finally spoke. The other woman studied her, before giving a defeated sigh.

"No counter offer," the unfamiliar lady finally spoke. The auctioneer grinned, pointing to Harriet.

"Well! Looks like our highest prize of the night goes to bidder number seventy-four!"

Harriet met Vlad's eye, and she smiled. He smiled back.

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

"So," Vlad asked, giving a coy smile. "You sure were an insistent bidder." Harriet flushed.

"I did it for the schools," she argued. "My niece goes to Casper High, remember?"

"Oh, I mean, if you did it just to help the schools," Vlad lightly teased. "Then we don't have to go out on the date." Harriet scoffed.

"No way, dude. I spent five-hundred dollars on you, and I'm going to get my money's worth." She poked him in the chest. "Which also means that you're buying me dinner, and some nice wine." Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "What time shall I pick you up?" Harriet smiled.

"Uh, depends. When are you free? Tomorrow around seven? Ah, who am I kidding." She smirked at him. "You're probably free whenever. What else do you got going on? Be honest."

Vlad flushed red, scowling.

"Okay, I do happen to be free tomorrow night, but normally I'm not!" he insisted. Harriet snorted. "So you need to make sure you check with me before you schedule something."

"You got nothing," she teased in a sing-song voice.

"Oh? And what do you do?" Vlad challenged. She hummed.

"Well, typically on Mondays I visit my grandmother, Wednesday is girls' night with my friends, Thursdays I have my yoga class, and on the weekends I normally get friends with friends or co-workers, go hike, short trip. Whatever I feel like," she replied without missing a beat. Vlad hated Jack for convincing him to do this stupid auction. "And of course, several days a week I go to the gym."

"I go to the gym too," Vlad insisted. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him. "I do! I'm in excellent shape."

"Are you going to the gym, or do you use a home gym in your mansion?" she pressed. Vlad didn't reply. "Thought so. Guess we're on tomorrow at seven?"

"...Tomorrow at seven."

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

Vlad had opted to simply drive himself in one of his flashy, yet more modest cars. It was honestly kind of hard to go to many places in a limo anyway, and not very intimate when there was an unintentional third party hanging out in the car. Harriet had texted him her address earlier, and he showed up right on time, pulling his car up to the curb of her house. A gentleman was never late, after all.

He parked, not bothering to lock his doors as he stepped up to her house. It was a typical small home in a decent little neighborhood. Not one that Vlad could ever imagine himself living in however, but it was cute. He stood at her front door. He exhaled harshly, mentally preparing himself.

He'd be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't nervous. It was one thing to date a new woman he had just met, but this was Harriet. She knew him when he was still a broke college student that worked part time at Dairy King and was in that terrible punk band with Jack.

Vlad rang her doorbell. He absentmindedly wondered if he'd have to wait on her for long, but thankfully, Harriet answered the door fairly quickly.

"Hey! Look at you!" she greeted cheerfully. Vlad knew he flushed a bit at the compliment, which made him...feel weird. That never happened before. "You really cleaned up for me." Okay now he had to roll his eyes a little. Vlad was in a nicer suit compared to normal, with a darker shirt collar and cufflinks, more polished shoes and the like.

"Ah, I'm nothing compared to how lovely you look this evening," he returned the compliment, and he could see Harriet's cheeks brighten a bit under her porch's poor lighting. They had texted each other about their plans, and so she had dressed appropriately for the five star restaurant; a black dress with dark green detailing that came to her knees, matching shoes and her hair done up. She had a formal black jacket over her arm, as well as a clutch handbag. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, one second!" Harriet turned to her door, checking to ensure it was locked. Once she did so, she turned, slipping her arm into his. "Now I am."

"Well, off we go," he smiled. "I think you'll like where we're going. It has the most divine sushi in Amity Park."

"I can't wait," Harriet replied. "I love sushi. Remember that campus sushi bar?"

"Absolutely," he replied. He walked her down the porch to his car. "Maddie worked there. She used to sneak us huge takeout boxes of leftovers."

"Oh I nearly forgot about that," Harriet laughed. "I'd help her smuggle out the boxes in my backpack."

"And you got soy sauce all over your bag four times," he chuckled. Harriet grumbled.

"Yeah, I had to re-print my final paper," she complained. "And eventually get a new bag that didn't smell like sushi all the time."

Vlad opened the car door for her. She slipped her arm out, giving him a thanks as she slipped inside.

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

Naturally, he had made a reservation for the best seat in the house; a table in a more private area of the place, indoors but near a large window that had a good view of the beautiful landscaping in their limited yard-area.

After giving his car to the valet and getting seated, Vlad glanced at the menu, immediately spying his favorite, rock shrimp tempura. However he looked around to see what else was available. Hmm, he was somewhat in the mood for BBQ Unagi…

"What do you normally get?" Harriet questioned as she looked over her options.

"...Know what? Since this is your first time, maybe we should just get morimoto omakase," Vlad suggested. He gently pushed her menu down so that he could look at it, and he pointed to the option. Harriet scanned the description. Essentially a dish with a little bit of everything.

"Ooo, that sounds good," Harriet mused.

"It's delicious, and it pairs well with white wine," Vlad told her. She smiled.

"Let's get that then," she agreed.

When the waiter came by, they ordered just that. Quickly, the waiter had come back to bring them the bottle of white wine, pouring them their first glass for them before leaving the bottle at Vlad's request. They each took a sip.

"Mmm, this is pretty good," Harriet spoke first. "I typically just get a red wine."

"I do too," Vlad replied. "But white wine goes well with fish." Harriet gave a surprised hum before taking another drink. "You probably know too much about me though. Tell me about your work. Amity News." She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm one of the main news anchors," she replied.

"Oh trust me, I know. I get to watch you tell me the news every day, it's a highlight of the day," Vlad complimented. Harriet rolled her eyes with a flush.

"Alright, cheesehead," she teased. "But yeah, I really love it. When I was younger I really enjoyed investigative journalism, since it let me go all over, but I'm really liking being in one place. Though I occasionally go out on the scene, but it's kinda dangerous to cover ghost fights here. And what we have Lance for."

Vlad snorted. He knew the news man too well. He was, as the kids called it, a meme at this point. He knew Daniel and his friends constantly posted these memes of Lance Thunder on social media, making fun of his on the scene appearances.

"What do you make of all these ghosts?" Vlad questioned. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, they certainly exist. Honestly thought Jack was stupid to try and build that one ghost portal in college. Even though. Ugh, Jack is such a buffoon sometimes," Harriet grumbled. "I still haven't forgiven him for costing me my job in Milwaukee, especially since I used him as a reliable source. Ugh!" She stopped herself to finish off her glass of wine. She exhaled deeply as she put the glass down, half-smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I know he's your friend."

"No, no no," Vlad replied eagerly. "I understand. After all, it was my home he destroyed, remember?" Harriet nodded.

"He had to have done thousands in damage," she said sympathetically. "Especially to your library. Oh, and it was a beautiful library too."

"It was one of my favorite rooms in that house," Vlad sighed. "I rebuilt the room, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. My new library, however, it's simply gorgeous."

"Oh?" Harriet questioned. Vlad took it as a sign to continue.

"It's a two story library, for once, like a true two story library. The lighting is fantastic, but also on a dimmer so the mood can be truly set," he began to describe. "I managed to slowly rebuild my collection of the classics, and there's a wood burning fireplace. Oh and of course, my favorite, the small reading nook with the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in next to a huge window. It's simply perfect."

"Oh, I would probably sit in that nook and read forever," Harriet sighed dreamily. Vlad smiled, picking up the bottle of wine with a raised eyebrow. Harriet picked her glass up, holding it for him to pour her some more. He did so, before refilling his own glass. She took another long sip of her drink.

"I would more often, but unfortunately, it's also the cat's favorite spot, and I can never bring myself to move her," he confessed. Harriet beamed.

"Vlad! You never told me you had a cat!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?" Vlad felt a cold sweat hit him. Wait.

"Maggie," he lied. "When I adopted her, that was what they called her, and it didn't feel right to change it." Harriet nodded understandingly. She set her glass of wine down to dig through her clutch, and she pulled her phone out.

"I have the most handsome little guy, his name's Taggy. Short for Maytag," she said. She showed Vlad her phone, exposing a picture of a grey and white cat stretched out in a cat hammock near a window. But that name...

"...Maytag? As in the company?"

Harriet flushed a bit.

"When I moved into my first apartment, his previous owners had left him, and so my old roommate and I began calling him Maytag after the refrigerator, since he came with the apartment, and we put food in him," she explained. "Then my roommate got married, and her husband's cats didn't get along with Taggy, so I just kept him, and he's moved six times with me since then." Vlad cracked a smile.

"Mad-ggie's name has kind of devolved into me just calling her Princess," he admitted. "I've bought so many luxury cat things for her and beds, the drinking fountain water bowl, wet food, the best vet in all of Illinois. Only the finest."

"I do the same for Taggy, much as I can afford. He's my special guy."

The waiter shyly interrupted them, bringing them each a huge plate of food. Harriet eyed hers hungrily, thanking him cheerfully.

"Oh, this does delicious," Harriet beamed. She took her chopsticks, and grabbed a bite. Vlad took another sip of wine before he did the same. "It tastes great too!"

"You think I'd steer you wrong?" Vlad lightly bragged.

"Who knows," Harriet shrugged. She gave a sly smirk. "You're the one who steered us all so wrong that you got the van stuck in a snowbank." Vlad glared at her, making her burst into snickers.

They ate in silence for a few moments, savoring their meal. Harriet took another long drink of her wine, and Vlad refilled it for her. She gave a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you like your food?"

"Very much so, it's delicious," he replied. "How's yours?"

"Great, I never had such delicious food!" She ate another chopstick full of food. "I guess this is how five star dining is, huh? I made a good date investment. But next time I gotta take you to a diner."

"Oh?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I get the feeling that you eat too fancy," she explained. "Sometimes you just need the greasiest burger and saltiest fries that you wash down with cheap soda."

"Hmm, wouldn't you prefer I take you to a five star steakhouse?" he questioned.

"You can take me there on our third date," Harriet replied. Vlad raised his eyebrow again. "But for date too, I think you need a greasy burger."

"Third date?" he echoed. He took a drink of his wine, finishing it off.

"Yeah, I think you'll wanna take me out again," Harriet hummed. She reached for the wine to refill his glass for him.

"Thank you, dear. But really?"

"Absolutely, I'm a catch," she replied. "I've travelled the world, I'm very educated, financially stable, have my own house, am very pretty." She jokingly flipped her hair.

"Ah, I'd say you're more of a beauty than just very pretty," Vlad mused. Harriet smiled.

"Aww, thank you cheesehead," she replied. "But yes. So naturally, I think you're not going to be able to resist asking me to accompany you out again. I did you a favor by bidding on you, actually."

"We'll see how the night ends, and who's wanting a second date more," Vlad said. "I mean, yes you are quite a catch, but I think you're forgetting who was voted as sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan magazine." Harriet nearly choked on her wine from laughter.

"Oh my god, you read Cosmo?" she giggled. Vlad flushed red.

"N-no, I was told this," he insisted. "When I got voted as such." Harriet had to put her chopsticks down, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. Vlad slammed back the rest of his wine, refilling his own cup.

"Oh man, you really haven't changed all that much." She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "Same ol' cute Vlad." This peaked his interest.

"You thought I was cute?" he asked. Harriet flushed, picking her chopsticks back up to continue eating.

"Eh, kinda. In that nerdy sorta way," she confessed. "I tried getting your attention a few times, but you never seemed too interested. You were always really distracted by that portal project."

More like distracted by Maddie, as she was a huge reason why he was so interested in helping with the proto portal project. Remembering the woman of his dreams made him pause. He suddenly felt guilty that he was out on a date. And Maddie's college best friend of all people!

Of course, he had dated here and there. Maddie was, unfortunately, married, so he knew that rationally he had to somewhat try and move on. But nobody had ever truly clicked with him, or made him feel like she had. His mind was often distracted by her the entire time but...until now he had actually forgotten about Maddie.

"Ah yeah, I was...really focused on school," he half-lied, taking another bite of food.

"I could tell. Nerd," she jibbed. "Even now I can tell you're super busy with all your business stuff."

"Not as busy as you'd think, but also yes," Vlad corrected. "I have a lot of meetings to attend and business decisions to make, but I at least get a lot of help and feedback."

"That's true," Harriet said. "But I'm glad we're able to do something now. Even if we just never got around to it back then." She poked at one of her foods with her chopstick before taking the bite. "I mean, I've been kind of all over too. I don't think anything would have even worked out had we even tried something."

"Ah, yes. I remember Maddie mentioning that you were never in one place for more than two months for a long time," Vlad said.

"Yup!" she confirmed. "That's investigative journalism for ya. Takes you all over. But I really liked it. I'm glad I had that opportunity, and that I did it. Don't regret a bit of it."

"Business too," he agreed. "Especially when you're starting an empire. I don't think I was truly home for months at a time, I was going from place to place to oversee offices being built and products being made. Seeing how progress is being made on research. It was a busy first fifteen years or so. I don't think I was truly relaxing and enjoying what I'd made until the past six years or so."

"Yeah, I remember reading about your progress," she said. "Fascinating story. You had such amazing charisma to get all these companies to go with your plans." Vlad felt a bit of a nervous wave hit him, but he didn't show it, or really even have to reply. Harriet had already moved on. "Ugh, this was so good. I can't believe I was able to eat all of this."

Her plate was empty, and he had just taken his last bite.

"Would you like dessert?" he asked. She shook her head no.

"Nah, I'm good. I've eaten enough," she replied. Vlad just nodded, and he called their water over.

Instead of waiting to get a receipt book from the waiter, he simply handed him his credit card. Vlad never checked the bill when he went out to eat. The price tag never bothered him.

The waiter accepted it, soon coming back for Vlad to sign. Vlad quickly did, and for his trouble, he also handed the young man five hundred dollar bills as a tip. It made him nearly tear up and stutter as he thanked him, but quite honestly, it was more to show off to Harriet his generosity more than any genuine kindness, which, judging by her expression, absolutely worked.

Vlad gave him a half smile and waved him off, and the pair collected their things to leave, heading towards the front of the restaurant arm in arm.

"You know, the night's still young," Vlad mused. He opened the door for her, and Harriet slipped through.

"Thank you," she replied. "But oh? You don't have work?"

"Nothing that can't be rearranged," he replied. "Do you?" Harriet smiled.

"Nope, I have tomorrow off. So what are you thinking?" she asked. Vlad glanced at his watch. Hell, it was only ten-thirty.

"Have you ever been to the Amity Park Country Club?" he questioned. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. I've been there as a guest twice, for interviews," she explained. She glanced at her phone. "Doesn't it close soon though?" Vlad chuckled.

"On midnights on the weekends," he replied.

"Hmm, okay," Harriet agreed. "But we won't stay too long."

Vlad went up to the valet, informing him of his car make and model, and the young man nodded, jogging off to fetch it.

"My dear, I'm a high priority member. They'll stay open for me," he insisted. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"The workers wanna go home too, Vlad," she reminded him. "We should be respectful of their time and leave when it closes."

Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was above having to follow those kinds of petty rules. When you had billions in the bank, you could easily just toss a few thousand out to make workers let you stay past the closing time with no issues. He had never heard a single complaint after he flashed a few thousand, a drop in the bucket for him. But what Harriet wanted, she would get. He supposed, anyway. After a few dates, she'd likely just begin agreeing with him and allow him to bend the rules for her.

After a few dates? Vlad thought on it. Yeah...after a few dates.

"Whatever you wish," he replied.

His car pulled up, and Vlad immediately opened the car door for her.

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

"And it just kind turned into a semi-permanent offer until I got kinda homesick," Harriet finished her story off as she hit another ball with the golf club. Vlad hummed lightly as her ball went off towards somewhere in the dark. "But it was amazing. I'd love to return to China sometime. Kinda unfortunately, Amity Park doesn't really cover international news like that. It's very local only."

"Maybe you should just come with me next time I go," Vlad offered. He grabbed another golf ball from their large bucket of them, setting it on the tee before lining himself up. With an experienced swing, he hit the ball, and it flew off. "To China, I mean. I go there about twice a year or so for business. Sometimes more."

"Ugh, that'd be awesome," Harriet agreed. She leaned over to pick up her drink, a pink margarita, that was resting on the tables that were set up near the driving range. Her jacket and clutch were on the table too, her heels tucked under the table. Vlad had also folded his suit jacket neatly to rest next to hers, allowing himself to also unbutton and roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his shirt. He also had his own drink, a rum and coke, that sat near hers. "I can show you all the local spots from my time there."

"Hm, that would be very nice," Vlad mused. He hit another ball. He was somewhat glad that Harriet had talked him out of doing the full course. While he didn't care (and Harriet very much did) that it would have taken far past closing time to finish a game, it was much more relaxing to just do this. Especially with nobody else being around. "I typically do only business."

"Oh boo, that's boring," Harriet said. She already had another ball on her tee, and she wacked it again. The ball went soaring. "What's the point of all your money if you're not enjoying yourself and your life?"

Vlad didn't reply. He focused on another swing. The ball stayed close to the ground, quickly rolling on and on and on before he couldn't see where it went anymore.

"You were married before, weren't you?" Vlad questioned. Harriet snorted.

"Oh, we're already at the 'let's talk about our exes' part of the relationship?" she teased. Vlad chuckled, grabbing another ball. "Eh, for about seven years. Nothing bad happened, we just realized that we weren't really as compatible as we thought. I enjoyed traveling the world and being out, and he was a big homebody that hated planes and trains. Started to realize that I wanted a family one day, he preferred it to be just us. We didn't see each other that much cause I would go cover stories all over, and it just felt like we'd be happier. So we just kind of had a mutual divorce."

"I can understand that," Vlad replied. He lightly tapped his ball twice before swinging the club as hard as he could. The ball straight up disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"So what's your excuse for never having a girlfriend before?" Harriet questioned. Vlad was grateful about the lighting, as he knew that his face was dark red. "Too busy with work, too nerdy, what?"

"I've had a girlfriend before!" he argued. "I've dated women plenty before. Don't you remember Stacy?"

"Nope," Harriet replied. She hit another ball.

"Yes you do!" he insisted. He took a break from swinging, leaning on his club. "I was with her for four years! Out of all the women I dated she was the one the papers and articles talked about the most. Don't you remember all the rumors swirling around about why we hadn't gotten married already?"

"Hmm, must have been a figment of your imagination," Harriet replied, and he exhaled dramatically. He finally noticed the shit-eatting grin, and that she was just pulling his leg. She giggled, grabbing another golf ball. She tossed it up into the air, catching it before putting it on the tee. "Okay, okay. So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Vlad questioned. He took a step towards their table, grabbing his drink. He needed it right about now.

"Marry Stacy," Harriet clarified.

"Eh, it just wasn't really meant to be," he dismissed simply. He took a long gulp of his drink, sighing softly when he finished.

"Oh?" Harriet pressed. He frowned. He should have known that she was going to be nosy about it. Typical journalist.

"...I could tell that we didn't really like each other all that much," he confessed. "We were just both lonely. We would go places together but never actually be together. We lived together but never saw each other outside of bedtime, though towards the end, she began to just sleep in a separate room since our schedules would be so different. We talked about getting married on and off, but...I don't know when it clicked for me that this just wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted a wife and children that I spent time with and that I loved being with. So we just kind of broke up, and she moved out."

Harriet nodded understandingly.

"At least you realized it before children potentially got involved," she said. "I'm glad I divorced with no children. I'd hate to put them through something like that."

"Agreed," Vlad replied. He picked up another golf ball. Instead of bending over to put it on the ground, he lazily dropped it and hit the ball on the bounce. "How many would you want?"

"Hm? What? Kids?" Harriet questioned. Vlad gave a 'mhm' noise to confirm. "At least two. A boy and a girl. What about you?"

"As many as possible," he said. He got another ball. "I always wanted a big family."

"Hmm, well I'm not a clown car," Harriet replied. "Regardless of how often I'd let a clown like you in." Vlad rolled his eyes. "Besides, you have Jasmine and Danny right? Maddie and Jack's kids?"

"Yeah, they're my godchildren," Vlad confirmed. He reached over for another quick sip of his drink. "I bought Jasmine her car. When Daniel gets his license I'll be getting him one too. And of course, paying for college. I have a few other godchildren too, same deal. I've gotten them all a car and paid for college. Can't let them have any of that dreadful student loan debt."

"Aw, you're just a big ol' softie," Harriet teased. "I'm not a billionaire, so I can't really do the same, but I'm pitching in to help my sister get my niece a decent used car next year. By the time her little brother's getting a car, I'll likely be doing the same."

"You're looking for cars for her?" Vlad mused. "I can get her one." Harriet shook her head.

"No, that's not necessary," she replied. "It's a lot to ask."

"Nonsense, I have the money to spare," he persisted. "A decent used car. Children don't need brand new ones, they're still learning." Harriet bit her lower lip as she pondered the offer.

"We'll discuss it another time with my sister," she said. Vlad nodded in agreement. He grabbed a ball. Their bucket was nearly empty now.

"I understand," he replied. Harriet picked up one of the last balls. She tossed it up in the air and swung her bat. She missed, but she quickly was able to redeem herself by hitting it on the third bounce. "I just hate to see children go without. That's why I was auctioned off, afterall. For the sake of the kids." Harriet gave a skeptical hum, getting another ball. "...Well, you know, if we're going to go out again, I need to make a good first impression on your family."

"That's better," Harriet replied. "If we're going to hang out more like this, we need to be open and honest with each other."

Vlad picked up the last ball. He stared at it for a moment, and he put it on Harriet's tee for her. She shot him a thankful smile, and she wacked the ball into the night.

"There'll be more, right?" Vlad asked.

"Well, if you're free next Friday, we can go see a show," Harriet suggested. She went back to the table, slipping into her heels again. She downed the last bit of her drink. "Local theater's opening weekend is soon."

Next weekend was terrible. Vlad had so much to do that following week that he'd have to spend all weekend preparing for. Many meetings, lots of documents to read and write and revise. Moving anything around would be an absolute headache.

But it could be moved around.

"Sounds lovely," he agreed. He finished off his drink before rolling his sleeves down again. He slipped his jacket back on. "Ready to head home?"

"We have to take the cups and clubs back up to the office," she said, nodding at the country club. Vlad made a face, and he began to protest, but a Look from Harriet made him shut up.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. Harriet grabbed their cups, and he took their clubs.

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

"Next Friday, right?" Harriet asked as they took the final step up onto her porch.

"Yes, I'll call you tomorrow to organize a proper time," Vlad told her. He paused as he suddenly remembered. "One second."

He did a half-jog back to his car, opening the backseat and pulling out a basket. As he returned to the door, it became clear as to what it was. It was the camera bundle she had been bid on at the auction, and she stared at it.

"Here, I had noticed you bid on it. I wanted to make sure you got it," he explained, handing it out to her.

"You bought that?" she questioned.

"Yes, I knew that you'd be outbid. So I just made sure that you could get it," he replied. Harriet smiled warmly, accepting it.

"Thank you," she said. She set it on one of the porch chairs for now. "This was honestly such a great night. Gotta admit, I was kinda skeptical, but you really impressed me."

"Of course, didn't you say yourself that you made a good investment," he joked. Harriet snickered.

"Yeah, but I think even I surprised myself," she said. "I thought I was just going to buy a nice, fancy one dinner, but I'm pretty sure I actually did buy somebody that I'm going to be introducing to my mom." She gestured to her front door. "Did you wanna come inside for a bit? Pretty sure you're too tired to make the long drive home."

"I don't live too far," Vlad replied. "It's about twenty minutes, I can easily get home."

"Oh?" Harriet lightly pressed. "You sure you're not too tired though? Don't need a coffee or anything? Or want to take a nap before you go?"

It finally clicked.

"Ah, you know, I think I would like to rest a bit before I go," he agreed. Harriet smiled, turning to unlock her door. Vlad grabbed the camera basket for her, and they went inside.

#phic phight 2021 #harriet chin #vlad masters #the bachelor #my phics #phics

[missjanjie]

Better Than Revenge | Chapter 3

Title: Better Than Revenge Summary: Karma Inc.’s business structure is simple - clients hire them when they’ve been grievously wronged and they send one of their revenge mercenaries to right them. As painstaking as their efforts to remain ethical may be, that may be tested when former detective, Rosé, enlists the squad to pick up where she couldn’t on a much higher scale, with potentially greater consequences. Word Count: ~2.7k (this chapter) | ~8k (total) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx), Jankie (Jackie Cox/Jan Sport), Halldoll (Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall), Gimone (Gigi Goode/Symone), Gottlux (Gottmik/Olivia Lux) Rating: T

Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi

Chapter Summary: Rosé learns Gigi, Symone, and Denali's revenge origin stories

-

Woodstock, IL — 2016

Gigi took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the mirror. She could do this, it was fine. Every time her suspicions or confusion would bubble up, she forced them back down. Hannah was nice, she was different from the other popular girls. She didn’t see the ‘weird art lesbian’ with the braces and thick-rimmed glasses, who rarely got pop culture references post-1989, at least, that’s how she made her feel.

“I’ll text you in the morning,” she assured her mother as she threw her bag over her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, I’m just hanging out with a friend.” She was out to her mom, of course, that was her biggest ally. But she wasn’t ready to tell her that the head cheerleader had taken an interest in her. Maybe when and if they became official. Until then, she shook off the last of her nerves and drove to her house, only pulled from her thoughts by the time she was sitting on Hannah’s bed.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Hannah cooed, batting her lashes and resting her hand on Gigi’s thigh.

If Gigi hadn’t been so blinded by her crush, she might’ve thought Hannah was laying it on a little thick, but she couldn’t act like she didn’t enjoy the attention. “Me too, a-about you, I mean. Sorry, I’m just nervous…”

“How come? I didn’t come on too strong over text, did I?”

“No, no I liked it, it’s just… I’m a virgin, like, I’ve only ever kissed before,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing rosy pink. She had talked a big game over text, but being faced with the chance of starting a physical relationship brought her back to reality.

Hannah pouted, rubbing Gigi’s thigh as she thought, letting her hand inch higher. “Well, you’ve got fantasies, don’t you? I know you’ve masturbated before. What do you think about while you touch yourself?”

Gigi hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. The other girl wasn’t wrong, she did know what she liked, could conjure up vivid imagery to get herself aroused, but she had never said any of it out loud. “I like powerful, confident women. I guess that’s something that drew me to you,” she started, “I wanna just… give up control, be dominated.”

“Really? Tell me more,” Hannah prompted, kissing along her neck and jaw and slowly tugging Gigi’s shirt off in an attempt to coax her to continue.

When Hannah didn’t seem deterred by her confession, Gigi started to relax. “It’s just, I don’t know, I always feel the need to be in control of my life and with sex, I just wanna let go and give up that power.”

“So like, what would you want someone to do to you?” she asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

She bit down on her lip. “Um… tie me up, spank me, choke me, and I know it’s kind of intense but maybe something like cnc or—” the incessant buzzing of her phone distracted her and, concerned it might be an urgent call or text from home, she took her phone out. “Sorry, one sec.”

It wasn’t from home, she had two missed calls from her best friend, Crystal, followed by several texts.

Crystal: GIGI STOP Crystal: SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Crystal: She’s broadcasting you on IG live! Crystal: We can see and hear everything…

Gigi’s face fell, her first instinct to pull her shirt back on. Then she slowly looked up and in front of her, that’s when she saw it, nestled between stuffed animals — Hannah’s phone with an instagram live going. She didn’t say anything, just ran out of the house as fast as her legs would take her and through her tears drove right to Crystal’s house. That was when the two of them formed their plot.

In and of itself, it was simple. Gigi waited one day until Hannah was away for a cheer competition and went to her house. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Mrs. Andrews, but I think I left some of my homework in Hannah’s room, she just said to let you know so I can run in and grab it.” Once inside, she found exactly what she was looking for, sliding Hannah’s diary into her backpack and went right back out.

“This feels very Mean Girls, I love it,” Crystal remarked as they taped page after page of the diary on lockers, walls, anywhere they could.

“Well, plan B was to go the Heathers route, so let’s just hope it works.”

And to say it worked was an understatement. As it turned out, Hannah had written things far more incriminating, and because it came from someone of her social ranking, it made everyone immediately lose interest in Gigi’s livestream scandal, and she graduated with the anonymity she needed for survival.

Present Day

“I’ll be honest with you,” Rosé remarked, “it’s kinda hard to picture you as an ugly duckling, especially the way you described it.” Gigi was too pretty, too perfect. Something didn’t add up.

Gigi got out her phone and scrolled through her photos until she found one from her senior year. “Believe it, doll,” she said as she held her phone up. She watched with an amused expression as Rosé looked from her phone, to her, and back with her eyes wide and mouth agape. “Braces off, lasik, learned a lot about how to dress while going to FIDM, which is where I met Symone, who helped fill in the blanks.”

“And made sure she got to do all them things she listed to that bitch without feeling ashamed about it,” Symone added with a smirk, draping her arm around Gigi and pulling her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Why don’t you tell her your story next, baby?” Gigi prompted.

Conway, AR — 2014

Symone watched her sister throw her bag over her shoulder and start to sneak out the window. “Look, I ain’t snitching or nothing, but I still don’t think this is a good idea.”

She and her sister, Lala, were close, sometimes referring to themselves as twins – they were only ten months apart, in the same grade at school. And until the summer after sophomore year, they had the same group of friends. But the crowd Lala ran with now just rubbed her the wrong way.

“You worry too much,” Lala brushed it off. “I’ll be fine, in bed by morning like nothing happened.”

But when Symone got a collect call two hours later, she found out things were far from fine. She drove down to the county jail as fast as she could without getting pulled over herself. Luckily bail was a mere fifty dollars, but once she got her sister back in the car, she looked at her incredulously. “What the fuck happened?”

“One of ‘em brought weed, another brought booze, but when the cops rolled up on us, they said it all was mine. And who was they gonna believe, me or three white kids?” Lala sniffled, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me,” she whispered.

“I don’t either,” Symone admitted quietly, frustrated at her inability to come up with an immediate solution. “But we’re gonna do our best to get you out of this, okay?”

The best they could do wasn’t easy. It involved a lot of legal maneuvering, meetings with one person in a suit after another. The end result wasn’t ideal, but it was far better than what could have been. Lala was fined three hundred dollars and put on thirty days of probation. In and of itself, it didn’t seem so bad, but the residual consequences took their toll.

“I lost my scholarship, ‘mone. That was my ticket into college,” Lala sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m getting off with a slap on the wrist, but I really ain’t thrilled about taking out student loans,” she sat down on the floor beside the bed, head leaning against it. “Or maybe I’ll start with community college, I dunno. It just fucking sucks that they all got off with warnings.”

Symone’s brows knitted together, her lips pressed into a fine line. “Don’t you worry baby,” she said after a moment, “they gon’ face consequences one way or another.”

It had taken most of spring break, but Symone finally had all of the pieces for her plan. “Not the most convoluted thing in the world, but it’ll get the job done,” she mused.

Lala looked at her sister, then at her desk and back. “Do I even wanna know where the hell you got coke from?”

“No, you do not.”

Getting the drugs was the hard part. Getting into school early to plant the drugs in the lockers of Lala’s former friends was far easier, as was leaving an ‘anonymous tip’ from a ‘concerned student’ on the principal’s desk.

“God, I wish I could’ve seen them get hauled off in cop cars,” Lala remarked as she and Symone drove home from school. The three students were quietly escorted out of class and arrested, the school wanting to bring as little attention as possible. “Shame that they rich daddies will still get them off lightly.”

Symone sighed and nodded. “Sure, but they’re still gonna get something, which is more than what they got when they threw you under the bus. Bet they’re gonna think twice before they let someone else take the fall for them.”

Her sister smiled softly and shook her head. “You really ain’t gotta do all that for me, you know?”

“I know,” she hummed, “not gonna stop me, though.”

Present Day

“Wow, that’s both selfless and hardcore,” Rosé remarked with an impressed nod. “Did she ever find out where you got the coke from?”

Symone laughed and shook her head. “Nah, that secret I’m taking to the grave.”

Rosé jokingly put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, fair enough,” she chuckled. After a moment, she turned her attention to Denali. “That just leaves you, princess,” she remarked, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “What’s your claim to infamy?”

Denali tossed her hair off her shoulder and grinned softly. “Who, me?” she cooed, fluttering her lashes. “Well, it is kind of an interesting story…”

Nicky rolled her eyes and tossed one of the couch pillows at her head. “Stop flirting and get on with it already.”

Fairbanks, AK — 2011

Denali groaned when the sound of loud footsteps racing up the stairs pulled her from her quasi-asleep state, then pulled a pillow over her head when the door swung open.

“What the hell are you still doing in bed when the qualifiers are in two hours?” her friend, Kahmora, asked with incredulous horror. She yanked the covers off of her, but stepped back in concern when she finally caught sight of Denali’s face. “Oh god, you look like shit.”

She frowned and rolled over to face away from her. “I feel like I died and was in the process of being reanimated, then killed again,” she lamented. “It’s probably food poisoning… or maybe swine flu came back, I dunno.”

“Did you eat anything unusual?”

Denali furrowed her brows as she wracked her brain. “I mean, Tara gave me those brownies and I had one, but when she said they were ‘special’, I just thought she meant they had weed in them, but that sure as hell isn’t it.” With as much energy as she could muster, she sat upright. “Oh my god, do you think she poisoned me?”

Kahmora arched her brow. “I think that’s a bit much, even for her. Do I think she put something like a laxative in there so it’d take you out long enough that you couldn’t beat her out in the international qualifiers? Yeah, probably. She’s a cunt.”

The skater scowled, her jaw clenched. “She’s a dead cunt,” she corrected, then suddenly shot out of bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered as she raced to the bathroom yet again.

There wasn’t an obvious revenge plan for Denali. She knew that nothing she did would get her spot in the competition, and she wondered if it was even worth it. But her pettiness and spite won out and she began planning out her course of action.

“Remember,” she was saying, “if all else fails, we go the Tonya Harding route.”

Kahmora sighed. “For the last time, you are not whacking Tara’s kneecaps, now let’s go.” Despite some pouting from Denali, they went to get the gears turning in their plan. They got to the ice rink and slipped into the locker room without being noticed by Tara, who was in the middle of practice.

Denali picked the lock and took out Tara’s change of clothes. Then she reached into her own bag and pulled on latex gloves and a plastic bag containing several leaves of poison ivy. She turned the shirt, pants, and socks inside out and firmly rubbed the leaves against the fabric, making sure she left as little fabric uncovered as possible. “She’s lucky I’m merciful or I’d rub it on her panties too,” she remarked offhandedly.

Kahmora tilted her head as she watched her. “Do you actually think it’ll take her out of the competition?” she asked as her friend put the leaves and gloves into the ziploc bag.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s possible, probable really, that the constant itching might make it too difficult for her to skate. But this is more about getting even with her. I might not ever get another chance to compete for internationals. She’s lucky the only retribution she’s getting is a few weeks of itchy blisters.”

“Otherwise you’d Tonya Harding her?”

Denali nodded brightly. “Exactly! Now come on, we have to get rid of the evidence.” And with that, they scurried out of the locker room as inconspicuously as they’d entered it and threw out the evidence in a trash can several blocks over.

When the news broke that Tara had withdrawn from the competition due to ‘unexpected physical problems’, Denali did her best to feign shock and didn’t celebrate until she and Kahmora were alone.

“So, what do you wanna do now?” Kahmora asked.

Denali tilted her head in thought, then smirked. “Let’s go get brownies.”

Present Day

“Personally, I still think you should’ve busted her knees,” Mik mused offhandedly. “Like, I bet you would’ve figured out a way to get away with it, you conniving bitch,” he teased.

Denali shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s not very original and it’d look a lot more suspicious on my end.”

“I think it was pretty badass,” Rosé offered, making the other woman smile which, in turn, made her heart flutter — something she chose to actively ignore. Instead, she let all of their stories sink in. None of their reasons for revenge were out of line, none of their victims undeserving. And none of the consequences were as severe as some of the things she had seen in her time. “You all really know what you’re doing, huh?”

“We wouldn’t have been able to keep this up for three years if we didn’t,” Jan replied. “We had all of the potential on our own, but we make a difference together, and then we added Jackie to tie up the loose ends. It’s been smooth sailing from there.”

“Yeah, and now Jackie ties you up instead,” Nicky teased, earning an eye roll in response.

Rosé watched the group interact with a fond smile. She had assumed they all got along to be working together for as long as they have been, but she hadn’t anticipated them truly behaving like a family. It was a stark contrast to the constant coldness and curtness she had grown accustomed to, both in her previous career and in the environment she grew up in. She only hoped it would make the tasks ahead that much easier for them.

#gimone #rosnali #rpdr rpf #i promise everything else will be present day unless its something important lol

[anonymouslyangsty]

My circleswap has Writing Prodigy! Mondo. Whats your take on him?

Oh, I'm flattered you want my thoughts on your au!

Writing Prodigy!Mondo...It's not an easy one. I love the lad, but Mondo isn't exactly the intellectual type, ya know? So it's not exactly an easy swap.

But! That doesn't mean I can't see it working.

Here's an idea. A couple of years after he starts riding with the gang, but well before Daiya's death, Mondo wipes out hard, bad enough to leave him unable to ride for at least a couple of months.

Which sucks, a lot. It's boring being stuck in a bed or a wheelchair while Daiya's out with the gang. On the upside (at least in Daiya's eyes, definitely not Mondo's), it gives Mondo plenty of time to catch up on his missed homework. Daiya works hard making sure Mondo can go to school like a normal kid, even sacrificing his own highschool education to ensure it. Like hell is he letting his brother slack off on work.

So Mondo is all but forced to actually pay attention to his work instead of just sleeping through it because he stays up all night with the gang. And without the distraction of the gang, Mondo (begrudgingly) realizes that he actually likes some of his classes. Yeah math and science are boring, but literature is...okay. At least he doesn't need to memorize formulas there, just interpret metaphors and whatnot.

And given that litreture's the only class he even vaguely enjoys, Mondo kinda focuses on it. And yeah the 'classics' are usually pretty boring, but there are tons of kickass action books. Mondo, unable to ride, ends up doing a lot of reading. Mainly horror and action novels. (Though he does have a soft spot for Little Women, but he'll die before he admits that. Beth and Jo are his favorites.)

Eventually, the class gets a writing assignment to make their own story up, probably part of some school wide youth writing competition or something. Sure Mondo doesn't expect to win, but it IS an excuse not to study for his history test. How's he supposed to study for that when he's soooo busy writing, Daiya? Bam.

Mondo ends up writing about one of their more exciting nights in the gang, maybe adding in some events just to spice it up. He changes the names around of course, because while everyone knows he and Daiya are in a gang, he's not going to rat out the others who are keeping it quiet.

Mondo is...more than surprised when he wins the competition, and the cash prize that comes with it. Daiya's absolutely ecstatic for his brother. He goes into full embarrassing big bro mode, showing the story to the gang and absolutely gushing about how cool his little bro is.

After that, and even after he's fully recovered, Mondo keeps writing in his spare time. Some of it's for school, but a lot of it he sells for a quick buck. Eventually those short stories evolve into longer ones, then full novels getting published and making millions.

And honestly, in any au where Mondo has a different talent that forms BEFORE Daiya's death, I always ask "would this have stopped the race?" Because the race happened because Mondo felt inferior to Daiya, less respected. But if Mondo has his own thing going, something Daiya CAN'T do, would he feel that same desperation to be better? I'm never sure.

I'm going to say it does happen in this case. Being a writer isn't exactly the most badass thing, so Mondo might face some backlash over that, especially if enemy gangs are trying to get a rise outta him ( "Oh if it isn't the little Owada. Don't ya got some chick flic to write?").

In that case, Mondo might be even more desperate to prove that he's just as much of a man as Daiya, thus leading to the race.

And here's a good question. Had Daiya not lived long enough to tell Mondo to care for the gang, had he died instantly, what would Mondo have done? Would he have still become the leader of the Diamonds?

In this case, I'm going to say no. Because here he doesn't feel obligated to do something like face the others after murdering his brother. He isn't trapped into a decision, and thus he does what most do when terrified. Mondo runs. Runs from Daiya mangled and crushed corpse, from the gang, from his own guilt. The Diamonds don't even know what happened to him. As far as they know, he's dead, having fallen off the freeway built high in the air.

Mondo knows it's cowardly, he does. But he's what, 14? 15 at most. He's a child, and he just saw his brother killed before him and he thinks it's his fault. Without that promise to tether him, his first response is to leave

And afterwards, the shame is too great to return. How could he go back when he'd done something so horrible? Killed his own brother and then ran like a coward. He can't, so he doesn't.

So Mondo leaves the gang, because he doesn't think he deserves them anymore. And he becomes a writer full time.

I think Mondo would generally write more gritty stuff than Toko. Murder mysteries, horror, action adventure. None of that 'girly' romance stuff. A lot of his books use the "rebel with a heart of gold" trope, though he never makes any allusions to the CD. He writes under a different name, Chuck, so none of the gang can try to track him.

The dogs in his books never die.

#mondo owada #talentswap #danganronpa #an ask tag

[a-storm-of-roses]

October Fics Day 5: Baking

Pairing: Teyla Emmagen/Jennifer Keller

Rating: G

Words: 2015

Summary: Teyla is good at many things, but baking isn't one of them. Luckily, Jennifer knows a trick.

A/N: Saw this prompt and HAD to make it about the two women who are canonically bad cooks!

Read on AO3 or below!

Teyla choked back a cough, as a cloud of flour rose up from the bowl. She stirred vigorously, but the mixture simply would not come together. And she was certain it wasn’t intended to look so chunky. Or so oily.

“Whatcha up to?” Jennifer leaned comfortably against the entry to the kitchen, a Driffen apple in her hand, looking bemused and more than a little curious. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a loose shirt, and Teyla realized she must be taking advantage of a rare day off.

With a sigh, Teyla wiped a hand across her forehead. It was only as she felt the drag of flour and grit across her skin, that she realized her error.

“I am baking,” Teyla ground out. Fetching a rag to wipe her face. “Or, at least I am trying to.”

Jennifer wandered over to the large, industrial counter where Teyla had been working. She peered over into the bowl, took one look at the contents and scrunched up her nose. Teyla would have found it cute, if she hadn’t been distracted by the annoyance and frustration of an hour wasted in the kitchen. She was hot, her arm was sore, and she was no closer to having created anything remotely resembling a cake.

“Uh, what exactly are you trying to make here?” Jennifer asked. She could tell the doctor was schooling her tone, adopting that forced, cheery accent that sometimes drove Teyla up a wall. Rodney called it Midwest nice. John, in his weaker moments, called it fake.

“A birthday cake for John. He does not particularly enjoy celebrations, but a cake seemed like a pleasant and simple tradition.”

“And you didn’t just ask the kitchen staff?” Jennifer asked. She picked up the mixing spoon, abandoned in the bowl of batter. Slowly, she lifted it out, and made a face as the oily, chunky mix splattered back into the bowl.

“I was under the impression that the cake was more meaningful when baked by a loved one.”

“In that case, shouldn’t Rodney be making it?” Teyla shot Jennifer a look, and it seemed to serve her purpose, because she blushed and stammered out quickly, “Or Ronon, or maybe Major Lorne? You know,” she continued, regaining her equilibrium, “don’t let them convince you that you have to do the cooking, just because you’re a woman. It’s sexist and outdated.”

Teyla sighed, and picked up the recipe again, smudging brown batter on the white paper.

“Ronon was going to join me. He is actually quite a good cook and baker, and he received the recipe from Evan. But then he implied that I would not be capable of doing this on my own, when Evan specifically said this was an easy recipe, and so…”

"So you got a bit competitive.” Jennifer smiled, real and easy, and Teyla felt some of the tension drain from her shoulders. “But I still don’t understand why you didn’t just use an Athosian recipe. Surely that would have been more familiar.”

Teyla shook her head, and picked up the bowl again, futilely attempting to stir the batter into submission.

“I’m afraid I am not a terribly accomplished baker, regardless of the recipe’s origins. My tuun bread was always too flat, and a bit hard. And at least I have access to the ingredients for this recipe.”

Jennifer hummed in agreement, before leaning forward on the counter, careful to avoid the stray flour and batter, and watching Teyla stir vigorously a few moments longer.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s meant to look.”

“I am aware of that,” Teyla snapped. Jennifer straightened up, her lips tugged down in a frown. Teyla sighed and placed the bowl on the counter, rubbing firmly at her temples. “I apologize, Jennifer, cooking always brings out the worst in me. It is not my strong suit.”

Jennifer brightened a bit.

“I have an idea, let me just see…” Jennifer made her way to one of the pantries, and crouched down, digging on one of the lower back shelves. She moved boxes, shifted tins, until she reemerged, looking triumphant and holding a small, cardboard box.

“Here! I thought we might still have some left over.” She presented the box to Teyla as though it were a prize, and looked so pleased with herself, so eager for Teyla’s approval. Teyla took the box and examined it more closely. The front displayed an image of a cake, and the back was covered with simple, short instructions.

“What is this?” Teyla asked.

Jennifer’s smile never faltered. “Boxed cake mix. A culinarily-challenged Midwestern girl’s best friend.”

Moving to the cabinets and pulling down a fresh bowl, Jennifer then rifled through the shelved ingredients, placing a bottle of cooking oil and some eggs on the counter.

“All you do is pour the mix in the bowl, add some oil, water and eggs, and pop it into the oven! I suppose not-chicken eggs will work just as well.”

Teyla eyed the collection of items warily. She was not usually one to take a shortcut, especially when it came to her friends, but then again, she also wasn’t one to bake.

“I could help?” Jennifer offered, clearly misinterpreting her silence for trepidation. It had sounded simple enough, she didn’t think she particularly needed the other woman’s help, but then again, Evan’s recipe had also sounded simple.

“That would be very appreciated, thank you Jennifer,” Teyla offered warmly. Jennifer beamed.

“Great! Why don’t I measure the oil, and you crack the eggs. That’s the hardest part, anyhow.”

They worked silently and companionably, Jennifer pouring the mix into the bowl, adding the oil, before Teyla added the eggs and the water. Before Teyla could reach the bowl, Jennifer had it in her arms, stirring slowly and steadily.

“Figured your arms could use the break,” she said, looking pointedly over at the bowl where Teyla’s first attempt sat congealing.

“Thank you.”

For a moment the kitchen was silent, the only noise the quiet squelch of Jennifer stirring the batter.

Teyla would be the first to admit that she had spent little time with Jennifer, especially following their disastrous mission to New Athos. It wasn’t that Teyla disliked her - there were very few people out there that Teyla truly disliked - but the doctor tested her patience at times. She was too soft, too naive for life here, it seemed. Too earnest, and too kind. She worried that one day the lovely doctor would go off-world, and would not return.

But as she watched Jennifer pour the batter into the cake tins, and pop them into the oven, she wondered if perhaps a bit of softness was not always a bad thing.

“Think we can toss this, then?” Jennifer asked, holding the bowl of chunky batter.

“Yes,” Teyla laughed, “I believe we can.” They moved in tandem, cleaning the used dishes and wiping down the counters, before Teyla grabbed a broom to sweep the spilled flour from the floor.

Jennifer leaned back against the counter and watched her, her gaze direct and focussed. Teyla was certain the other woman had never looked at her like this before, but she found, surprisingly, it was not unwelcome. Teyla met her gaze in return, and smiled, laughing a bit, as Jennifer’s eyes widened and looked away.

“So,” Teyla began, “you have done this before?”

“I- um, what exactly-”

“Made cake from a box?” Teyla took mercy on her.

“Oh,” Jennifer blushed. “Right. Yeah, I used to be in a lot of activities when I was younger. Girl Scouts, debating. Swim team, for a bit. I was always ahead of the class, and my parents thought it would be a good way for me to meet other kids my own age, you know, acclimate socially.

“Anyways, these activities always had a lot of bake sales. Um, where you bake things and sell them to raise money for the club? We all had to bring something. My mom was a great baker - she used to make the best cupcakes. But after she died, I had to figure something out. I tried making a couple of her recipes, but they never really turned out right. That’s when Betty Crocker and I became BFFs.”

Teyla felt a sudden pang of her own grief.

“Your father did not bake?”

“No, I come from a pretty conservative area. It was enough that he took over making all of our meals, I couldn’t ask him to make me a devil’s food cake for my debate tournament too.”

Jennifer busied herself checking the cake, showing Teyla the clean toothpick and bringing it out of the oven to cool. The two round cakes were golden yellow, edging into a bit browned at the edges. They looked not unlike the cake the mess served on special occasions. Teyla was just relieved to see that they appeared edible.

“We’ll need to wait a bit before we can frost it.”

Teyla sat on one of the high stools, and regarded Jennifer closely. After a moment, she spoke.

“I lost my mother when I was quite young as well. No one ever quite made fried melo like her. I tried to get it right, for many years, but even the best cooks in our settlement never came close.”

“You miss her,” Jennifer stated, leaning over and placing her hand on Teyla’s. Her palm was warm, a bit damp, but soft. Teyla nodded. “I miss mine too. I don’t think it ever goes away.”

For a moment, Teyla considered leaning in. Brushing the hair that had fallen loose from Jennifer’s ponytail back, swiping her thumb across a smooth cheek.

But then, Jennifer pulled her hand away, cleared her throat and stood.

“I think we can frost it now.”

“Do we need to make the frosting, or does that also come in a box?”

“Even better,” Jennifer responded, placing two small containers on the counter. “It comes in a tub.”

They each took one cake, Jennifer showing her how to spread the frosting evenly, without causing the cake to crumble. Finally, carefully, Teyla lifted one layer on top of the other, smoothing down the frosting covering the sides.

“It looks great! I’m sure John will love it.”

“I just hope it tastes alright,” Teyla laughed.

Jennifer grinned at her, happy and relaxed. Even more hair had fallen out of her ponytail, and ridiculously, there was a smudge of frosting across her cheek. She looked messy, not at all like her normal, put-together self, and Teyla was surprised to find it endearing.

“Here, you have a bit of-” Teyla reached out, and wiped the frosting from her face. Almost instinctively, she popped her finger in her mouth, licking the sweetness from her own skin. Jennifer’s pupils dilated.

“How’s- um- how’s it taste?” She asked, voice just a touch breathy.

“Delicious,” Teyla answered, her eyes never breaking contact. “Perhaps you should try some.”

It was a challenge. Jennifer could take the risk, take what Teyla was offering. Or she could pretend she didn’t understand, pretend she wasn’t feeling this thing thrumming between the two of them.

Jennifer’s eyes dropped down to her lips, and her hand settled on Teyla’s arm, before she moved closer, leaning in to gently kiss her, barely a brush, before pulling away.

“Was that alright?” She asked, uncertain, her hand still gripping Teyla’s bicep with more force than she would have expected.

“Yes, but I don’t believe you got to sample the frosting.” Teyla swiped her finger across the base of the cake, before sucking it into her mouth, making a little show of licking the excess frosting off. It was ridiculous, she knew it, but it had the desired effect, Jennifer pulling her in close and kissing her again, this time with a confident heat, her tongue venturing out to pull the sweetness from Teyla’s own mouth.

They kissed for long minutes, before breathless, Teyla finally pulled away.

“I believe I have found something pleasurable about baking after all.”

Jennifer laughed. “Just wait til I show you what I can do with a roll of cookie dough.”

#This is cliched and I love it #Also took some liberties in describing the frosting process #I swear I know how to frost cake #Teyla Emmagen/Jennifer Keller #teyla emmagan #jennifer keller #this pairing is actually great tho #stargate atlantis

[captainseaweedbrains]

The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64 Ch. 4

Katniss and Peeta used to be best friends when they were kids, but now in high school, they're barely on speaking terms. It isn't until they are forced together as the titular star-crossed lovers for their marching band's field show that they will have to face their past mistakes and try to get along if they ever hope of defeating the notorious Capitol Height's Imperial Marching Crusaders in competition.

It's all about winning and if that means pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark, so be it.

A/N: Thank you to @rosegardeninwinter​ for editing and helping push me to finish! You are the best and any mistakes found are mine. :) 

Start at the beginning on Ao3: X

Ch. 4 Ao3: X

June

“Peeta really isn’t that bad,” Madge said for what felt like the millionth time. Katniss rolled her eyes and flipped the page of her magazine. Ever since learning that Peeta was going to be the Romeo to Katniss’ Juliet, Madge had been defending him every chance she got. “He’s really not. And he’s so smart, Katniss. Picks up on things real quickly. So all this moping around you’ve been doing all week is stupid.”

Katniss frowned and shoved her sunglasses further up her nose, preferring the screams of the children running around them on the pool deck to Madge defending Peeta Mellark to her once again. Was she being overly dramatic about this? Maybe. Was Madge right that Peeta wasn’t as bad as she made him out to be? Perhaps. But it still sucked and she couldn’t stop complaining about it.

“I know you’re Team Peeta,” she sighed, “but would it kill you to see things from my perspective just this once? Isn’t that what girl friends are supposed to do? Side with their other girl friends?”

“Maybe if you were right about him being a bad person, I would,” Madge sniffed, picking up her own gossip magazine to flip through. “But as of right now, you’ve provided me no evidence in support of your claim.” It was times like these Katniss wished her friend wasn’t the daughter of a prestigious lawyer.

“Gale sides with me,” she argued, pointing at her tall friend standing in line between two twelve-year-old kids for their slushies. “Doesn’t that count for anything on my behalf?”

“Gale’s an idiot.”

“An idiot you’re dating.” Madge stuck her tongue out at that, unable to refute her long-standing relationship with Gale and Katniss smiled. Of all the relationships she’d seen throughout the years—and band romances had provided plenty of weird, random romances, the weirdest being Johanna Mason and Melinda “Cashmere” Hewitt—Madge and Gale’s was the only one she saw that made no sense on paper yet made complete sense in person. The spoiled rich girl with a heart of gold and the rough-around-the-edges boy from the bad part of town? She never used to buy it in the movies, thinking the concept too ridiculous, but Madge and Gale proved her wrong time and time again.

Even when they had broken up sophomore year, claiming they were just too different, Katniss was still proven wrong because they couldn’t shut up about each other—griping about how she just didn’t understand and he always has to be right and I can’t believe I lost my virginity to that, a fact Katniss could have gone her whole life not knowing. When they got back together, it was hard to say who was more thrilled about it: the happy couple or Katniss.

“Come on, Madge,” she sighed, flopping back in her lounge seat. “Why must you always be the diplomatic one?”

“Someone has to be between your impulsiveness and Gale’s anarchy attitude.

“Did someone say anarchy?” the anarchist himself joked, handing Madge her lime-flavored slushie with a kiss on the lips for a tip. He handed Katniss her watermelon one and jokingly asked where his tip was. Katniss threw her three dollars at him with a “Keep the change” rebuttal. Gale laughed and pocketed the cash, lifting Madge’s legs up and over onto his lap so he could sit.

“So what did I miss?”

Madge snorted and offered her boyfriend a sip of her slushie. “Here’s a hint: it’s Katniss’ favorite subject.”

Gale rolled his eyes and accepted the drink. “Mellark again?” He took a large sip and winced at the sudden brain freeze, handing the large cup back. “God, I’m so sick of hearing about that guy. Katniss, get over it and move on already.” Even Gale was getting sick of her talking about it? Somehow, that hit lower on the pathetic scale. Gale was her complaining companion. Her bitch buddy. The person she reserved all her annoyances for because she knew he’d have his own trivial things to complain about. Hell, their friendship was founded upon complaining, starting in 8th Grade Science when their teacher kept giving them busy work to cope with the very public scandal of his wife sleeping with their school principal. They complained about everything with each other.

And now even Gale had said enough.

Well this sucked.

“Fine,” she said, not really feeling fine about it. “I won’t talk about it anymore.” Her friends looked doubtful. “I mean it! No more talk of Peeta Mellark and how my whole summer is practically ruined because I have to have extra practices to teach him how to dance on the field. And I’m not going to talk about how that cuts into my shifts at Aunt LuLu’s store, which means my spending money is going to be next to nothing by the time school starts. So if you two ever want to do anything more fun than hanging around the school parking lot, I guess you’re shit out of luck.”

Gale smiled sweetly at Madge. “I’m so glad she’s not talking about it anymore.” Katniss scowled and gave them the middle finger, causing them both to laugh.

“I think you both are very biased over this whole thing,” Katniss said after a while. Gale and Madge didn’t say anything, too focused on tanning and summer reading homework. That didn’t seem to stop Katniss from continuing. “You’re both too friendly with him because of classes and band. He’s gotten to you.”

“One of us is biased,” Gale said, “and it’s not us. It’s you. You’ve hated him for as long as I’ve known you.”

“With good reason!” she huffed, crossing her arms. They didn’t ask her to elaborate on that, already making it clear they were done talking about Peeta Mellark and all the annoyances he brought to her life, and she hated the fact that she did want to keep talking about him. About marching band. About the whole stupid situation. But she kept her promise and kept her mouth shut. 

No one said anything further until Madge declared herself starving and Gale suggested they stuff their faces with greasy burgers and fries at Sae’s.

**********

Sae’s Diner was packed with its usual lunch crowd—men and women from the factories nearby on lunch, sitting at the worn pastel-colored counter; a couple of kids they recognized from school goofing off in the corner booth, shooting straw wrappers off the straws; and a book club filled with women in their fifties discussing some brick of a book over coffee and Sae’s famous blueberry and cream pie sitting in the center of the small diner. The old woman herself smiled warmly at them when they’d walked in, asking if they were wanting the usual. 

“You’re the best, Sae,” Gale thanked as they waved and headed to their booth next to the front door. 

As they waited for their cheeseburgers and chocolate milkshakes, Gale chatted about some war movie he and his brothers saw that sounded god awful boring, no matter how much he tried re-explaining the plot to them. Madge and Katniss rolled their eyes and told him if he wanted to see the movie again so badly, to go see it by himself. “I’m not going to the movies by myself like some weirdo,” he scoffed, taking his hands off the table as the waitress deposited their plates of food and drinks. 

“Why not?” Katniss asked, picking up a french fry to dip into her milkshake. “I do it all the time.” 

“Because you hate people.” 

“So do you.” He shrugged, not having much to argue there, and picked up his burger. 

“So what time is Trinket summoning you tomorrow?” Gale asked, changing the subject completely, and tearing into his burger. Grease dripped down his hands and Madge tossed a pile of napkins at him. He accepted with a smile and slid his side of pickles over to her, something he purposely ordered more of because he knew how much she liked them. Madge happily bit into one, her eyes gazing at him with such adoration, Katniss rolled her eyes. Their coupling was too much for her sometimes. 

“I thought you didn’t want me talking about marching band,” she said innocently enough, taking a bite into her own burger.

“I didn’t want you talking about Mellark,” he said pointedly, wagging a fry at her. “Marching band is different. Less annoying and less boy drama. So what time does Miss Cream Puff have you coming in?”

It irritated her that Gale simplified her great dislike for Peeta Mellark as mere boy drama because it was far more complicated than that, but there was no point trying to explain it to Gale. He understood a lot about her, but when it came to Peeta… Well, it was best to let him believe whatever he wanted. “Eight a.m. sharp,” she said sourly, dipping another french fry into her milkshake.

Gale winced. “That sucks. Why so early?” 

“Peeta couldn’t get out of working his afternoon shifts and it was either that or not have a single weekend off until November.” She was still bitter about the change in schedule. Originally Miss Trinket wanted them twice a week outside of color guard’s normal rehearsal times, but with Peeta’s work schedule not being as flexible as Katniss’, she’d decided to make it morning rehearsals and make those shorter, which forced them to add another day of rehearsal to make up for the cut time. Now instead of having rehearsal four times a week, Katniss had five with her weekends full of shifts at Aunt LuLu’s shop for the extra cash she desperately needed. This summer was going to blow.

“I still think you should’ve been picked for Juliet,” Katniss told Madge teasingly. “You and Gale, maybe?” she cooed. “The true star-crossed lovers of Athens Ridge.” 

Gale scowled. “I’d rather drop dead than have to deal with Trinket when she’s in choreographer mode. She’s a total tyrant.” 

“She’s not so bad once you get used to her.” 

“Tell me what you think after dealing with her for a whole season, oh captain, my captain.” 

Point taken.

Much like at the pool, they talked for a bit about things going on in their lives—Madge taking some online French class because her grades last semester weren’t great; Gale’s successful find for parts with Thom in the junkyard. Katniss didn’t say much as she munched on her burger and fries, afraid Madge would lecture her again on Peeta Mellark and her inability to let things go with him. That and she promised she was done talking about him. But outside of marching band and him, not much was going on in her life. She felt a bit pathetic about that. 

Conversation picked up when Sae came over, asking how things were doing. The three smiled at the old woman, happy to fill her in on all the small details of their lives. Sae was the unofficial grandmother of the Seam. Always there to show her support for her kiddos. Her small diner was covered with pictures of sports teams she’s sponsored over the years, pictures of her and kids dressed in dance gear, holding certificates. 

“Did you hear the news about Katniss, Sae?” Madge asked when the topic of marching band came up. Sae was always interested in that, loving watching her talented kids play as they wove around the field. “She’s going to be our Juliet this year! Isn’t that exciting?” 

Sae’s grey eyes warmed, turning to Katniss. “Is that so? Captain and the lead part?” She shook her head in astonishment, her salt and peppered colored hair coming loose from her hair tie. “You were always so talented with those flags. I’m not surprised. Who’s your Romeo?” 

“Peeta Mellark.” The name felt lodged in her throat, but thankfully, it squeezed out without too much of a squeak in her voice. 

Sae didn’t know all the kids on the west side, but she definitely knew Peeta. He would often tag along with her and her dad on their trips to the woods, stopping at the diner after for hot chocolate and pie. In fact, his picture was one of the first ones you saw coming in—Sae and six-year-old Peeta smiling at the camera, her arm around him as he proudly held up his lost baby tooth. Her dad had taken the picture, she remembered, and if the camera’s lens had shifted a little more to the right, it would have also captured five-year-old Katniss pouting on the side, upset that he kept losing his baby teeth when she’d lost none. It was a picture her gaze avoided whenever they visited Sae’s, unable to stomach the sight of an old friend turned asshole, the memory of her dad’s laughter as he took the photo. 

“Oh, Peeta,” Sae chuckled, the familiar twinkle she always got in her eyes when he was around. The old woman doted on him when they were kids and he ate up her attention like there was no tomorrow. “How is that boy? Staying out of mischief, I hope?” 

Gale and Madge looked to her with knowing smiles, wondering what she would say. Katniss cleared her throat and looked down at her half-eaten plate for a moment. “Fine, I guess. We don’t hang out anymore. You know that, Sae.” 

She did know that, but it never stopped her from asking whenever he came up. “Aye, girl, I do. I suppose you aren’t happy with Effie Trinket’s choice, then?” 

Gale snorted. “Happy? More like obsessively pissed. She hasn’t shut up about it since May.” She glared at her friend and he shrugged, popping a fry in his mouth. “What? You haven’t.” 

Sae gave one of her warm, crooked teeth smiles. “Maybe this is the push you kiddos need to kiss and make up.” Katniss’ cheeks warmed at the mention of kisses, remembering Leevy’s comment how they were so going to have sex by the end of the year. She still hadn’t fully forgiven her friend for that suggestion.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Sae,” she said, her voice still a little strained. “We’re just too different.”  

“Ah, well. I suppose we grow in different directions sometimes,” the woman sighed with a shake of her head. A woman from the book club table called for her and Sae gave them a parting wave and smile. “Tell Peeta ol’ Sae misses her boy and that he needs to come in more. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Katniss pointedly avoided Gale and Madge’s amused smirks, focusing on the burger in front of her. “I’ll be sure to pass the message along,” she muttered, taking a big bite of her food to avoid continuing this conversation. She loved Sae. Thought of her like a grandmother. But there was no way in hell was she telling Peeta that. No way. Then he’d think she was gushing about him to anyone who would listen, thrilled to be his Juliet, a role many girls at school would kill for (Probably. Maybe. She thinks.), and then his stupid ego would just get bigger and he’d be even more obnoxious to deal with. No, best not to mention anything and lie next time she saw Sae. 

A small part felt guilty at that, though, because Sae was like a grandma who wanted the best for her, and Peeta too, she guessed, but again, Sae didn’t know what happened between them. And Katniss wasn’t going to fill her in on their broken history six years too late. 

Her phone next to her plate vibrated, signifying a text message just came in. Wiping her greasy hands, Katniss frowned, picking up her phone. Who was texting her? Everyone who’d text her was either sitting right across from her or were busy at work or camp. The little text message lit up at her touch, showing it was from an unknown number, and her frown turned into a scowl as she read it. 

Hey!!!!!!!!!1!1111!!!!!!! the message read with a thousand typo-filled exclamation marks. God, who text like that? Trinket gave me ur ######## Hope thats cool. Thought Id give mine!!!!!!!111111 🤗 Ill see u  Mon dearest Juliet ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!!!!!!!!!!111!😘😘😘😘!!!111!!!!!! 

For the briefest of seconds, Katniss swore her vision blacked out. One moment she was staring at her phone. The next, darkness. Like her brain couldn’t process the simple text on her phone and chose to shut down instead. When her vision cleared, the message was still there, glaring brightly at her with those thousand exclamation/number marks. 

Peeta Mellark texted her. He had her number.

         Her stomach churned and now she feared that what her mother always warned about Sae’s greasy food would come true now and she’d throw it all up. 

Peeta Mellark texted her. It was truly official. He had her number and she had his and they were partners now. If she had any doubts about this whole thing before—as if she had dreamt the last four weeks of her life—they were wiped clean now. Replaced with this typo-filled text message from the very boy who hurt her. 

“You okay?” Madge asked.

Katniss nodded and clicked out of the message, tossing the phone into her bag. She’d deal with it later.

#Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #The Hunger Games #The Hunger Games fanfiction #Everlark fanfic #The hunger Games fanfic #THG #It's been a while and I'm sorry #Life amirite? #My writing #The Dance of the Color Guard #The Dance of the Color Guard Op. 64

[ante--meridiem]

do all the hozier ones you haven't already!

Take me to church - are you religious?

No. Religion confuses me to be honest. I was raised in a pretty strongly Christian (Catholic & Eastern Orthodox) environment - my parents aren't really religious either but my extended family is and both Irish and Romanian culture very much are - but I can't remember ever actually believing. I tried to make myself believe a few times when I was younger but the closest I could come that I found convincing was a vague pantheistic "I guess God can be everything if you want" which I eventually concluded was basically meaningless to me as a statement.

Work Song- Is there anyone you’d sing a love song to, romantic or platonic?

Given the quality of my singing voice, I think singing to someone would be less a display of affection and more a cruel and unusual punishment. I did sing with my ex a few times, which worked because I could copy his tune rather than floundering around trying to find the right notes myself. I would sing a love song to my partner on request, but. I advise them against requesting :P.

Someone New- Do you fall in love easily?

Definitely not. I've been properly in love twice, one of the times it took me about four years of knowing them to develop romantic feelings and for the other I'm not sure exactly of the timeline but I think at least one year, probably at least two. My list of crushes might be somewhat longer, but it's hard to tell tbh between the fact that I find it hard to distinguish intense admiration from romantic interest and the fact that most of them would have happened before I realised me having romantic interest in women was even possible.

Cherry Wine- Do you have a sweet tooth?

Somewhat, yeah. I don't like things that are excessively sweet but I do like sweets in moderation.

From Eden- Do you think theres “something tragic about this” life?

Yeah, definitely. Both just in raw terms of "bad things can happen" but also in terms of, like... the things that make tragedies tragedies and not just compilations of awful events: missed opportunities, realisations that come too late, sequences of events that could have been changed from the outside but were inevitable from the inside, so forth. (Someone whose writing I like once suggested that last one as a definition of "tragedy" in literary terms and I like it as a definition.)

Movement - Do you perform in any way?

Not really. I'd say I'd be unlikely to because I'm too socially anxious for it, but actually I think I might prefer performing over other forms of interaction because I get to script it beforehand. I did take part in a few music competitions when I was in school which involved performing, and more recently I took part in an open mic poetry night which was surprisingly fun, but that's about it.

Angel Of Small Death and The Codeine Scene- Any addictions?

No. I know my blog title is a joke about coffee but I'm pretty sure I don't actually have a caffeine addiction, I never really have more than one or two cups a day and I can and have gone periods of time without it without any negative effects (...though I did still have tea). I've enjoyed alcohol a few times but I don't really feel the need for it outside of occasions where I'm offered it. I'm unlikely to ever try any other kind of drugs because the idea of being less in control of myself scares me.

Like Real People Do- Have you kissed people?

Yep. Unsure if my ex counts given he doesn't match my gender preferences but while I haven't had any serious relationships between that one and my current one (which is long distance) I have gone on a few dates in between, one of which did involve kissing. Among other things.

Jackie and Wilson- Do you want kids?

God, no. The thought of pregnancy is viscerally repulsive to me and while I'm slightly more open to considering adoption I can't see myself ever really wanting it. And even if I did have a sudden urge for it, my emotions are too unreliable and hard for me to access for me to be confident I'd develop and maintain the kind of attachment needed to be a good parent, unless I was adopting a kid I'd already formed that kind of attachment towards somehow. Which seems unlikely so blanket no.

Moment’s Silence- What do you find beautiful about the situation you’re in now?

I like getting to go for walks around the nearby lake in the evening. It's peaceful and pretty and I can finally make an attempt to sort out my thoughts.

To Be Alone - Do you prefer other people’s company or your own?

My own, without a doubt. Love other people in theory, they're fascinating, but in practice being around them is confusing and exhausting. There is maybe one exception but even in their case I wouldn't want to be around them constantly, I need time to myself.

In the Woods Somewhere- Have you ever had a supernatural experience?

No.

My Love Will Never Die- Are you dating anyone?

Yes :)

It Will Come Back- Do you like to write?

Yes, though I stopped for a while because I was busy with uni and I've been having a hard time getting back into it.

To Noise Making - Do you like to sing?

Not so much that I dislike it as I'm very bad at it, so I don't much.

Nobody - Who in your life is important to you?

Currently my parents and my romantic partner, mainly.

Foreigner’s God - Do you ever talk to yourself or something above?

Myself, yes. Something above, no, since as mentioned I'm not religious.

#long post #Anon #Ask game #thanks for asking <3

[desdamona-evangaline]

Karma, Kayano, Nagisa and Sugino were excited. Well. Kayano, Nagisa and Sugino were exited.

“Are we really going to spend our Friday night looking at bones?” Wines Karma.

“Come on, they got a new exhibit! It’s the fourth largest bone found ever!” Said Sugino.

“”I heard it’s a dinosaur hip.” Chimed in Kayano.

“Plus,” said Nagisa “Koro-sesei said it would be a learning experience”

“Fine whatever”

Kayano leapt to her feet “Forget the bones!”

Exclamations of dismay ensued. Karma had just gotten on bored.

“No, no! Apples releasing a new iPad! And giving away free ones as a promotion! All we have to do is make a video about apples to win!”

“Come on, I want to see the museum.” Said Nagisa.

“I’ll help” said Sugino. “We’ll get Okajima to film.”

“Yes! Get ready. I feel a brainstorm coming on”

They grabbed a napkin and started drawing their heart stopping Apple based videos. This would be epic. Tales of Apple drama, costumes, lighting. This would be bigger than the Titanic!

“Didn’t that sink?”

“Shut up Karma!”

Karma laughed at their antics. Nagisa on the other hand frowned. “I wanted to go to the museum. It’s closed for repairs for a week starting Saturday.”

“We can still go”

“Um....” Nagisa mumbled vaguely. Things had been a tad... awkward since Karma had come back. They hadn’t really hung out together for long since the whole.... friendship break up. He didn’t want to be stressed all evening.

“Look, it’s fine. It’s not like... a big deal.” Pointed out Karma.

“It’s just hanging out.”

“”I guess. Sure”

Kayano popped up smiling. “Aww, like a date?”

Nagisa nearly fell off his chair. Oh God. Mortified.

“No, not a date” hissed Karma. “Just. Hanging out.”

“Have fun on your .not. date.” She cooed before running for dear life. Sugino looked at Karmas face and made a swift exit. Nagisa’s was trying to fight his blush. Oh God he was all red. Idiot!

“It’s not a date.” Karma said again, rather forcefully.

“Just. Hanging. Out”

“Got it.”

“See you at 7”

Karma casually walked away praying his face didn’t rival the colour of his hair. He was not going on a date with Nagisa. And his heart certainly wasn’t beating any harder than normal. Nagisa buried his head in his school bag. It wasn’t a date. Stop panicking! What should he wear?

It took Kayano took zero seconds to convince Okajima to film their video. The thought of an IPad with high zoom camera filled him with glee. Disturbing glee but glee all the same. Nakamura’s blackmail sences were tingling. A date? Between the two most oblivious boys in the class? She new what she was doing this evening. She grabbed Hinano. Now her sights were set on the boys she needed a new accomplice. The girl was easy to convince.

“Finally!! My OTP!!”

“Whatever, bring your binoculars.”

“Trust me. We won’t miss a single second of this legendary meet up”

After school Kayano, Sugino and Okajima asked/begged/bribed Koro-Sensei to fetch them costumes. Their grand idea? An interpretation of apples through ballet. The competition would never see it coming. Kayano wore a green tutu, Sugino a red ballet jacket and shorts. Okajima stood by with the camera. The only problem? None of them knew anything about ballet.

“Don’t you like.... stand on your toes? And sort of spin?”

“I think I can do an arabesque.”

“Jumping is involved?”

The bone museum was just as eventful as one could expect. By which it wasn’t eventful at all and Karma was going insane.

“Are we done yet? It’s a rock! It’s not like it can move”

“It’s a fossil and I want to look at it a little longer”

“It’s a grey rock. I’ll find you 20 outside, can we go now?”

“Don’t you think it’s lovely?”

“It’s almost as picturesque as you my darling little bon...”

“I will hit you with the bone if you finish that sentence”

The Apple ballet plot line was fabulous. Stupendous. Electronic. But the skills? Less so.

“Just twirl. Twirl. Kayano for the love of God TWIRL!”

“I’m basically standing on my big toe do you think this is easy!”

“Sugino, you twirl then!”

No response came from the pile of body that used to be Sugino. Arabesque’s were harder than you’d imagine. Okajima dumped the camera and leapt onto the podium they were using as a stage.

“Just go on one leg and spin like this!”

Kayano didn’t know exactly what happened. After blacking out for a moment she came to under a desk, Sugino’s knee on her head and Okajima stuck in a broken floor board. Time for the good old YouTube tutorial.

Karma kicked himself internally. What was he doing? Why did he say that? This was supposed to be a causal meet up between friends and he was ... flirting? Could you even call that flirting? What ever it was it certainly wasn’t casual. Nagisa was staring straight ahead at the bone. Stop blushing stop blushing stop blushing. Karma was just teasing. This was not. A. Date. He didn’t really mean it. Blushing harder under Karma’s grin, he fought off any unacceptable emotion. But.

He had called him lovely.

Hinano and Nakamura lurked behind a display of elderly bow ties. They came armed with a romance magazine including a stage by stage guide to love. Stage one. The Compliments. Already a solid start. Hinano screamed internally.

“Lovely?” Thought Nakumura. Interesting choice. He’d have to up the anti if he wanted to get anywhere with Nagisa. The boy was completely oblivious. Get down on one knee and he’d ask if your shoelaces were untied.

“I’m hungry.” Announced Karma, formally ending their bone viewing.

Since it wasn’t a date they didn’t plan on getting dinner anywhere fancy. What they were getting was barbaque food. From a literal hole in a brick wall. The smell alone was enough to throw romance out the window.

“It smells like..”

“Best not to think about it.”

“My leg is broken”

“Your leg is not broken”

“It’s broken!”

“Sugino your fine! Do the jump!”

“I swear to God Kayano I quit!”

“If you quit I’ll make you wish you’d never been born!”

All in all, thought Okajima to himself, letting the camera roll through out the afternoon showed scenes more entertaining than traditional ballet ever could.

“That is the most disgusting food I’ve ever seen” hissed Hinano.

This couldn’t be right. Even Karma couldn’t be idiotic enough to bring a date to this mess of a restaurant. They were sitting on the side walk for goodness sake. And the guy running the place looked like he was considering a murder. Come to think of it that’s probably where the meat came from.

“This tastes terrible Karma. Amazing job!”

“Karma laughed and took another bite of the thing that resembled a burger. See? They could hangout. No feelings. Just good friends. Nagisa was just a good friend who was illuminated by the white street light like an angel. Who’s eyes almost glowed and who was sitting close enough to Kiss...”

“OTP for life!!!” Hissed Hinano as Nakamura punched the air. 10 more inches. 5! 4, 3, 2

Nagisa’s phone made all 4 of them jump.

He answered to hear Kayano’s frantic whispers.

“We need help. Susan needs a hospital!”

“Hospital? Who’s Susan?”

“We were pirouetteing” explained Kayano as she dodged a thrown plate, “and Sugino accidentally threw me into a tree, the branch broke and I fell on a deer. Her antler broke! Her names Susan and she’s trying to kill us!”

“I don’t think girl deers have antlers”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SHOULD BE TAKING FROM THIS CONVERSATION!”

“Alright I’m on my way. Karma, we need to go save Kayano and Sugino from a distressed deer.”

“Sure” he muttered. “Why not”

Nakamura comforted Hinano. She would kill that deer with her own bare hands. Or maybe with a baseball bat.

It took a long time to get the deer into an animal hospital. He (or she) was a biter. The nurses criticised Karma’s method of transportation. In fairness it did look pretty odd when they arrived dragging a basket full of deer tied up with fairylights. But, as Karma argued, they did arrive at their destination. All they had to do now what wait as the nurses got the animal painkillers and possibly anger management therapy. Now Nagisa, Kayano, Sugino and Karma were in the waiting room recovering.

Exhausted Nagisa rested his head on Karma’s shoulder. Not in a romantic way or anything.

“Awww” cooed one lady.”Your such a cute couple”

“Oh! No.” Said Nagisa quickly lifting his head.

“We’re just friends.”

“Why?”

“Ummm”

“You’d be great together” man joined in.

Karma shook his head “no, all the dating stuff wouldn’t work out”

“If I may chime in,” Said another guy in a hat.

“Are you avoiding romance because of your fear of separation?”

“My what?” Karma looked personally insulted. “I don’t have a fear of separation”

“Listen young man” said a women behind Nagisa.

“You need to reassure that red headed fellow you will always be there for him.”

“I don’t want to talk about this” said Nagisa, mortification flooding through him.

“Perhaps that’s what’s driving you apart” said hat guy. “Your worried he won’t appreciate and except your efforts”

Sugino and Kayano took turns holding vending machine popcorn.

“No, I just don’t want to date him. Karma’s my friend”

“Is he. Or is he just putting up with you” asked some girl to the left.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, I’m just telling you what you tell yourself buddy”

Karma stood up angrily. “Let’s stop this right there, our love life is none of your business”

“So you do have a love life?”

Two nurses restrainted Karma from attacking the hat guy.

Nakumura crashed through the door with Hinano at her heels.

“Everyone shut up! It’s time for your moment! Stage 3 happens 4 hours into the date! You have 86 seconds!”

“The hell are you talking about?” Yelled Karma as Nagisa buried his head in his hands.

“Oh God!” Screamed one women, “It’s about to get real!”

“Lady you need to chill” hissed Sugino through his popcorn. “Karma! This is your time! Tell him how you feel!” Wailed Hinata.

“What is going on?” Whispers Nagisa.

“It might be too late soon!” Called hat guy.

“Am I dead?” Whispered Nagisa.

“Do it! We support you!” Yelled the nurse.

“Am I in hell?” Nagisa asked himself.

“Take the initiative Karma! Kiss him!”

Kamra threw himself at Nakamura with the sole intent to kill.Nagisa tackled him.

“No killing Nakumura. Or me after this”

The audience gasped. Hinata cheered. Kayano clapped. Nagisa kissed. And kissed. And kissed.Silence. Staring down at Karma Nagisa waited for his fist. It never came.

“I can’t believe this was our first date. Do-over?”

The whole room cheered.

The next day Karma and Nagisa headed out for first date round two. Nakumura and Hinata spread the news. Kayano and Sugino met to discuss their aid to the Karmagisa cause. It was worth it, even though they never got an iPad.

Then Sugino frowned

“Hey, what happened to Okajima?”

Okajima bowed as he received his prize. His short film “What two mental ballerinas would do for an iPad” won him first place. Life was good.

@darlingimawitch

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