I’ve been eating these Simply Asia bowls a lot lately!! I never realized they were vegan and since my life has been all about convenience for the last few months, I decided to try them. I’ve tried a few different flavors but this Spicy Kung Pao is definitely my favorite; I like the added peanuts that come with them too. But in addition to trying these noodles I tried these Gardein porkless bites with the sweet and sour sauce. I was never a huge fan of pork pre-vegan but vegan ‘pork’ items always seem to delight me. They’re really good, especially with the noodles.
Friendly reminder that in the United States, waiters do NOT make minimum wage.
Tips are not polite, they’re essential. A tip is literally your waiter’s paycheck.
In the United States, restaurants assume waiters will make at least minimum wage in tips alone, so they won’t pay minimum wage. And if a waiter doesn’t make minimum wage because people left shitty tips or no tips at all? Too bad. Guess what. Waiter boy takes home less than minimum wage. If someone stiffs on a bill? Breaks a plate? Guess what. It comes out of your boy’s paycheck. That’s less money he gets to take home. That’s money he can’t spend on rent or food or transportation or student loans.
And with the rise of cost of living in this stupid country, 10% usually doesn’t cut it anymore. 15% is often the suggested low.
IF YOU DO NOT TIP YOUR WAITER IN THE UNITED STATES (and I’m talking a good, livable tip, unless your waiter was just fucking rude), THEN YOUR WAITER DOES NOT EAT.
The sakamaki and the mukamu bros reaction when the lover comes home from a party?
(( I wasn’t sure whether you meant like she snuck out or something so that is what I went with, hope it is some what similar to what you wanted anon! ))
You stumbled your way through the front door at the Sakamaki/Mukami mansion, your feet blistering from the dancing you did that night. Your two fingers hooked at the base of your shoes, holding them in one hand looking around, hoping that no one had noticed you had snuck out to your bestfriend from Ryoutei Academy’s party she was having.
Little did you know that when you had gone to the bathroom that night, one of your “friends” replaced your lemonade with vodka.
After a little while, you had eaten a few too many spicy foods and went straight for your drink only to realise that it wasn’t the carbonated drink you loved. But you liked it. By the end of the night, you were just a tad bit over tipsy and then your fully sober friend dropped you off to mansion you call home.
You heard a noise from the dimly light hall and you turned to face it.
Your boyfriend, Shuu, was sitting on his beloved couch. Contrary to normal, he wasn’t sleeping. He sat up right, his eyes glaring at you. “Where were you?” Shuu asked with an underlying angry demeanour. You stumbled towards him against your will, catching yourself from falling and standing back up to face him. In your stumbling, he had stood up and was now looking down at you. “Since when do you drink, Y/N?” Shuu smirked as he questioned you. You thought for a second and was about to start speak when you started giggling out of nowhere. His smirk only deepened as he turned you around and sat you on the couch, all while you are trying to hide your compulsive laughter. In a matter of seconds, Shuu had pulled you down to his side and were both lying on the couch, his nose nestled into your hair. Shuu sighs “I can’t believe I have to mask your scent with your hair. You smell like an alcoholic. How bothersome”.
The young man which you knew as Reiji stood in the hall way with a posture that made you want to walk right out the door that you came from, but you knew better then that, even when you are drunk. He slowly approached you, your knees getting weak out of fear of the punishment he may inflict due to being out so late and sneaking out. “What made you think that you were allowed to leave the house without informing anyone in the house?” Reiji said with clear and dominant tone. You stuttered “S-Shu-san knew I was gone…” In reality, Shuu knew nothing about where you went, but you just fumbled, trying to come up with an excuse to get out of getting in trouble from Reiji. He seemed to not believe your claim fully but ignored it and said as he walked away “Come on, if you are just going to stand there, you won’t be clean enough to stay in my room. I am not having such a stench in my room.” You realised that you would have to have a shower and get changed.
Once you did so you realised that Reiji would confirm your excuse with Shuu and that you wouldn’t even be able to convince Shuu to lie for you because you would be too hungover. It seems the punishment wouldn’t be avoided after all.
Laito began to question you in a surprisingly playful manner“Ne S/o-chan~, whe-”. You sighed with a pout “Laito-kun, don’t call me S/o, call me Bitch-chan!”. Laito raised a brow “But you told me to stop calling you that because we are a couple now..”. In your drunken state you saunter over to him, falling over your own feet. He catches you before you can fall over, you look up to him, getting a lot closer to his face then what you would normally do when not under the influence. You whisper “But I like it secretly though~”. Expecting to see a smirking Laito, your face returns to its original pout, seeing your boyfriend’s face in a disgusted manner. He sighs before picking you up in his arms “You smell like crap Bitch-chan. We can speak about this in the morning.”
You wake up with a massive headache to see Laito in your shared bed with a massive grin on his face. “Do you remember what you confessed to me last night?”
Kanato looks at you with an unreadable expression, holding Teddy in his arms. “Where did you go, S/o?” He said with a frighteningly monotone voice. You stuttered “I- I just went to a friend’s house.” Kanato just stared at you until he began to walk towards you and started yelling “WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN LIE TO MY FACE LIKE THAT?! HUH?! I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID! I COULD SMELL YOU 10 MINUTES BEFORE YOU EVEN CAME INSIDE THE HOUSE! WH-” His endless ranting continued, you dozing out after a few sentences of rage. Soon enough he noticed that you weren’t paying as much attention as he wanted and his face only seemed to show more anger than before. He grabbed your wrist forcefully and dragged you to the nearest bathroom and screamed from the other side “I AM LOCKING THE DOOR, HAVE A SHOWER AND SLEEP IN THERE!”
Ayato stood in the hall, his eyes narrowed and his expression look pretty pissed off. He began to charge his way towards you while he yelled “How dare you not tell Ore-sama where you are going! It’s late at night and something could have happened!”. Being too drunk to respond to the sudden affection Ayato had unknowingly shown you, you just stood in your spot, widening your eyes a little. Unaware of what he had said he looked you with his headed tilted to the right “What are you so shocked about? Huh? Oi! Answer when Ore-sama speaks to you!”. You scratched your head and looked up and down the room until your eyes landed on Ayato. His scowl didn’t disappear straight away, until realisation finally hit him. A slight blush crawled upon Ayato’s face “I-I didn’t mean anything… I meant that I want your blood! Yeah!”. He began to walk up to you and immediately bite into your neck without warning, to your utter surprise, he then spat out your blood in disgust, to your utter surprise. He whined as he began to walk away, back to the direction of his room. “For once, your blood is utter shit. Don’t drink ever again, you hear?!”
Subaru stood in the side of the hall, leaning against the wall like always. He sniffed the air is disgust as he walked over to you “You smell disgusting…. you went to a party or something didn’t you?”. You looked down at the floor and mumbled “Well, yeah. I’m sorry th-” but you were interrupted by Subaru. “You should have called! Or told Reiji! Or something! What if you got hurt!”. He realised what he had said almost immediately and began to blush. “Just have a shower already! You smell like crap!” He then left you in your drunken state and left you in the hall, wondering what had happened.
He stood in the hall way with a slight expression of revulsion and humour. Ruki approached you while taunting “Are you drunk, S/o?”. Stating the obvious, you just nodded and muttered “Yeah.” He smirked and said “That is very improper of you, I will deal with you in the morning.” Ruki began to walk away from you and then looked over his shoulder, looking directly at you. “Are you not coming with me? Or are you just going to stand there smelling revolting?”. You shuffled your way over to him as he walked with you to the bathroom closest to Ruki’s room, where he opened the door and gave you clothes, letting you go inside to start up the shower and clean yourself. Once you had finished having a shower and had gotten changed, you opened the door to see Ruki standing outside the door, you slowly followed him to his room where he set you down to bed.
Kou was standing in the middle of the hall, with a prominent grin on his face. “Aw, S/o-chan looks so cute! All you need is a set of ears and you would be the cutest little kitten~” He cooed with a getting quite close to you as he said it. You meowed in response, feeling a lot more flirty than usual. This only made Kou’s smile widen into a smirk. He commanded “Be a kitten for me”. You did as he said with a giggle beginning to meow, and act like a cat. He began to laugh as you buried you face into the crook of his neck, purring and licking his skin. He giggled and sauntered away from you looking back and said “I am going to bed now, after the little kitten cleans herself up, she can join me~”.
Yuma leaned against the wall of the hallway, peering at you from above with a stare that held a strange adoration. “S/o, ya look so adorable when ya are drunk. Ya face is so red, it looks like a blush. I just wanna -”. He was interrupted by your sudden burst of tears. He may have looked really scary (due to his height) and talking about you that way had triggered something in your mind to lose it. Yuma’s eyes widen in shock, not really sure what to do, he wraps his arms around you as your sobs become inaudible while Yuma is utterly confused.
Azusa stood with his head tilted. “S/o….. where did…. you go?” He said with concern in his voice rather than anger like you had first expected. You answered “I went to a friend’s party. I’m sorry that I didn’t te-”. “You… smell odd. S/o… should… take a shower.” Azusa dragged you carefully to the bathroom where he left you so you could take a shower. Once you had dried yourself off and got dressed in your nightgown, you opened the door and made your way towards Azusa’s room where he sat in bed with his arms open waiting for you.
It had started off as a joke, The Soroity Girl Cooking Show. Throughout college you had been the only one your roommates in both your dorm and later rented bungalow who could cook. You had a knack for shopping sales of all kinds and cooking really great and filling meals. It probably came from being raised by two parents who worked very hard. After school, you had three choices: starve, dine on pizza pops and cereal, or learn how to cook. Soon, your place became known throughout your faculty as the place to go for a good meal and you were often serving up to guests who would stop by to study or just chill. One guy who came by a lot to be fed, James O’Leary, was the son of a successful television producer and he pitched the show to his dad and before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to your English degree and hello to the Food Network. The show was an absolute success after your sixth first season episode where you made New England Pasta Bake as the main dish. After that, you were no longer just a nine pm time slot on Thursday. You weren’t just the charming girl in a red apron teaching college kids away from home how to cook, you were reaching all kinds of markets and even garnishing some serious fan mail.
After an exhausting day of heavy press followed by an energetic night show, Niall was lying in bed with a tray of room service and cold beer and mindlessly flipping through the channels. He wanted to watch Top Gear, but had missed the last replay of the night and was now just looking for anything to zone him out until he could fall asleep.The Sorority Girl Cooking Show sounded incredibly erotic to him and he didn’t have to order it. The title suggested it would involve food and a hot girl, the Irish man was sold. He took a huge first bite of his steak sandwich and laid down further in the sheets to tune in. You were already fifteen minutes in and now rolling up cold meat into perfect balls with your bare hands, freshly manicured as they always were before a taping. With steak sauce sliding out of the left corner of his mouth, Niall was staring at the screen – hooked like millions of other viewers. He wasn’t sure what looked better, the lamb meatballs that were finished and fresh from the oven in the tray beside you or the smile you flashed at the camera when cracking a tiny joke.
Throughout the rest of the tour, the boys and some of the crew members would harmlessly tease Niall about his crush on you. They saw him watching the show on his laptop on the bus or tuning in and trying to cook along with you. The boys never complained because they were getting fed (sometimes well), but they couldn’t help but poke fun at him. When they arrived for their first in California, where you filmed the show, Louis thought it would be funny to take him to a taping of the show. However, your producer thought it would be even better to have the two of them assist you in cooking the day’s meals: whiskey chicken drummers for appetizers, tex mex pot pies for dinner, and apple pie sundaes (which Niall had already seen on your website and since then dreamed about you serving them to him in nothing, but your red apron).
The taping had gone over swimmingly, the studio audience laughing more at Louis’s constant joke cracking than they applauded the announcement your first cookbook,Babe on a Budget, would be hitting stores next week but they were all getting advanced signed copies. You sat in your dressing room, heels already off and your comfy pair of Keds were on. You reached behind your back to start to untie your apron, waiting for the hair stylist to come in and pull out all the bobby pins she had slid up in there when there was a knock on your open dressing room door. Your eyes shifted to the side anxiously, surprised to see Niall leaning on the door’s frame.
“Just do it, mate!” You heard Louis hiss, but you couldn’t actually see him. It caused you to laugh though especially once you noted how cheesed it made Niall look, his eyes rolling back and nose hiking upward with irritation.
“Hey, you did great today.” Standing up out of your chair, you grinned kindly at the blond boy, forgetting all about your apron as you invited him in with a wave of your hand. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. Surprised I didn’t burn down the place.” He chuckled, nervously staring at his shoes for a moment as he stepped in closer. You sat on the arm of the small leather couch in your room, crossing your arms over your chest while still smiling at him. Niall kept looking at you only to avert his gaze. This was the smile he been hooked on for weeks now and he founded it far more enticing in person. He thought that, maybe, meeting you would ruin the show for him, that he would lose interest, but it had done the opposite and now he just wanted to be on the show, cooking beside you every day in his own red apron. “Sorry about cursing so much. I’m not used to all the kitchen gadgets and stuff.” He chuckled, but you just laughed it off. While you knew the boys (like all guests) were instructed to watch their language, it couldn’t be helped sometimes. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it.
“It happens. That’s why we we’re not a live show.” The idea of a live show absolutely terrified you. It was always pitched around in production meetings, doing a live show for a special holiday, but you were completely against the idea. “You must find it hard in your own shows.” You chuckled lightly, tilting your head to the side and feeling some of your hair fall over your shoulders.
“I’m getting better.” He said proudly, finally holding eye contact with you and not trying to hide how rosy his cheeks had become since entering your dressing room.
“So, is there something I can help you with? Do you need Donald for anything?” He was the producer; you were just the face of the show.
“No. I was looking for you.”
“Oh. That’s a first.” Grinning, you told him and stood up from the couch to be of better service to him. “Everyone always wants Donald. What can I do you for?”
“Well, we’re going to be in California for a little bit, a little over a week, and I know you’re busy with the show, I’m busy too,” He babbled, his hand gestures ranging from pressing a palm to his chest and then pointing right at you with both index fingers.
“Niall!” Louis hissed again from out in the hallway, causing Niall to blush a shade of red that did not suit him, it was scarlet and painting his entire face like he had just eaten too many spicy peppers. You had seen the face before.
“Are you asking if I’d cook meals for you guys while you’re here?” It didn’t seem farfetched to you, people had asked for you specifically to prepare them meals since the show started. Kelly Clarkson’s people were still emailing you to come down to Texas and prepare her and her family another feast after you catered a party for her and her crew when she had come to town.
“No. Well, you definitely can. I could eat those apple pie sundaes every day, but I was really asking if you would want to get together. You could show me around, maybe, I don’t know much about California despite coming here a bunch of times.” He looked up, his face turning from red to as pink as the inside of a medium well steak. Niall slid his hands into the pocket of his jeans and crossed his fingers once they were inside.
“Ooooh.”You held your lips in the shape of a lowercase ‘o’, dragging the noise on as you tried to wrap your mind around one fifth of the world’s hottest band asking you to show him around town. Judging by how nervous his face showed him to be, you knew it was not just someone looking for a friend. Besides, he had four friends by his side and in a bus with him everywhere he went. He didn’t need any more friends or wannabe friends. Niall had done his research. There was nothing on the internet claiming that you had a boyfriend or anything, but the sound coming from your voice had his stomach in tight knots. Maybe you just weren’t interested. Maybe you found him gross. “Are you sure?” You asked and then immediately knew you shouldn’t have. “I just mean, you are who you are….”
“I know what you mean.” Niall nodded and understood completely. You didn’t have to say it out loud. Cameras and screaming girls were deal breakers for a lot of people. They were every day in his life and even he found it uncomfortable so he could fathom someone who wasn’t used to them being skeptical. “But you are who you are, too.” While Niall’s life had been in the fast lane for the last three years, you weren’t exactly a nobody yourself. Your fan bases looked different, but you still had one. People recognized you in the supermarket and at the doctor’s office. He could at least offer you some support while your life changed. He knew better than anyone what fame was like. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Thank you for having us.” Niall uncrossed his fingers and curled his hands into fists before turning around to drag his feet out of the room. He felt like a real idiot, embarrassed for putting himself out there. He was the single one and girls wanted him everywhere, he hadn’t been ready for the rejection.
“Oh, come on, [Y/N]!” Once more, Louis hissed like an angry street drunk outside of your dressing room. You could just picture his face shaking in disappointment at how the exchange between yourself and Niall went. All you could do was chuckle though (and roll your eyes like Niall did).
“Niall!” Rushing out of the room, you shot your head out the door just as the hair stylist was coming in to assist you. He was barely out the door, so he spun around and your faces nearly swiped one another’s. “I’d love to spend some time with you while you’re in town. I already know where I’d like to take you first.” Smiling the smile you wore on the side of buses and on a billboard in front of The W Hotel, you told him.
“You don’t have to.” Niall was finally grinning again, his face free of shame for a moment. “I don’t want you to just do it because…”
“I want to.” Assuring him, you spoke a little softer. “Wear running shoes, we’re going for a hike.” You weren’t going to be cooking for anyone on a first date.
HARRY: You never got sick before your own appearances or events, only when it came to Harry’s. Your stomach would become home to the most hyperactive butterflies and, you swore, they were armed with machetes and machine guns to keep you feeling particularly uneasy. When the sitcom you played the sarcastic misunderstood teenage daughter on was nominated for its first round of Emmy’s last year, Harry accompanied you on the red carpet and to the ceremony. You were fine. Your dress cost more than you were worth dead and the jeweler warned you of what Hell was in store for you if you lost an earring or broke the bracelet, but you still didn’t sweat in the slightest. It was your night and you had the time of your life. However, when it was an event where you were the date and Harry was the guest, you always felt like you were about to be violently ill.
Doing up his cufflinks on the dress shirt that his stylist had laid out for him along with other options, Harry leaned against the closed washroom door and called in for you. The makeup artist had left a half hour ago and the town car was already waiting downstairs, Harry was worried that you weren’t already out with your heels on and ready to head out. He wasn’t as glitzy as he seemed. Red carpet events were not the be all end all to him, but this was the London premier of the Keith Richards documentary he helped fund and make happen. He was mostly just looking forward to celebrating the project and seeing old friends again. Harry didn’t care what anyone had on or how they looked, as long as the night was a success.
“Are you alright, [Y/N]? The car is waiting and traffic is a mess.” It was always a mess in London, but Harry hoped that would make you come out quicker.
“I’m fine.” Holding a hand mirror behind your head while you squinted furiously into the bathroom mirror, you replied. You had been studying your low side bun ever since the makeup artist left you, your eyes smoky as Harry always liked them. It seemed like as soon as he saw the dark gray shades smudged over your lids, he forgot about everything and just wanted to keep you to himself all night, bent over a kitchen counter or underneath him on top of helplessly tangled bed sheets. As you put down the hand mirror down on the counter, you straightened out your strapless turquoise dress over your body with both your free hands. Harry’s fans were critical. They had an opinion to share on everything and, when it came to you, they were rarely positive remarks. Even tabloids didn’t understand how the mega star was wrapped up in a television supporting actress. You tried to let it go in one ear and out the other, Harry always urged you to ignore all the extra noise, but it was easier said than done. So, tonight, you wanted to look as good as you could. Fans would be there by the hundreds to see your boyfriend and cameras for every website, magazine, and television station across the globe would show up with flashing bulbs. Sighing, you picked up your clutch from where it was waiting next to the sink and turned to leave, but the bathroom door flew open and Harry was revealed.
“What’s taking you?” He asked, sounding a mixture of concerned and annoyed. “I never think you can look any more beautiful and then…wow….” He changed his tune completely, looking you over from your pedicured toes that peeked out underneath the skirt of your dress to the few hairs that were falling purposefully out of your finished hair. “I don’t even know if I want to go now.” He bit his bottom lip and purred at you, walking closer to put his hands on both your sides and steal a kiss. “You’re stunning. It’s no wonder Teen Vogue wants you on the cover for September.” He smirked and kissed you again. You had got the call that morning while you were still lying in bed and wishing the sun hadn’t screamed its way through the curtains. It was your first cover and you couldn’t have been more excited for the shoot.
“Harry, I’m so nervous for tonight.” You admitted quietly, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment and taking a look at you both in the bathroom mirror. While fans were warning you not to break his heart and claiming you two weren’t real, you understood in that moment why some blogs thought you two were cute together. With his hands on your hips and your head the shoulder of his dress shirt, you thought the two of you did look quite sweet. You would never feel good enough for Harry, but you were thrilled he thought otherwise.
“Why?” He laughed. “I’m nervous! I need you to be the rock.” He laughed. It wasn’t as if the Rolling Stones were some well-kept British secret. There had been plenty of rock docs made about them, but Harry still wanted this one to be the best reviewed. Critics were always hard on him due to his boy band roots. “Why are you nervous, hun?”
“I’m always nervous when it comes to your fans. When those girls came up for a picture while we were in line at Wendy’s last week, I nearly had a panic attack. They have the most judgmental eyes, you know, and they all have Twitters!” One of the girls had eyed you like you two were longtime sworn enemies, but the other had asked for a picture with you two and told you that she was a big fan of Split-Level the family sitcom you were on.
“You need to get a Twitter.” Harry hugged you closer, knowing full well that being his girlfriend hadn’t been a smooth transition for you. You were fine when it was the two of you or your close friends, but when you were outside for the world to judge, it was much harder. “Because if they heard your weird thoughts after midnight like I do, they would absolutely love you.” He kissed you once more, even though you were in the middle of laughing.
“Let’s go, babe. I dare someone to not like you in this dress.” He curled his fingers between yours and led you out of the bathroom, eager to get a start on the night he had been waiting for for a while.
LIAM: Liam listened to his best friends, his four band mates talk about their own relationships, he listened to their girlfriends fret and whine over being tied to the biggest names in music and having their every move criticized. There was a time where he empathized with the guys only, knowing how they felt guilty or how frustrating keeping a personal life private could be. He experienced it with his own relationships in the past. However, now that he was dating you, the guys just didn’t understand. He was like one of their girlfriends now, his every move commented on, and feeling judged every time he stepped foot in different arena. He found himself texting Eleanor every day, feeling like an idiot for something he said to an interviewer at one of your matches or telling her something an elderly couple told him about tennis stars while he watched in the stands. Liam had thought that any girl would be lucky to be with him. He was kind, wealthy, good looking, and heavily emotional, but with you, he felt like a second string. You had become the highest paid athlete last year, the first female, and pictures of you with your racket and in your Stella McCartney tennis dresses were in every airport he walked through. He loved you, but he wondered what the Hell it was you saw in him. He worked hard, but not nearly as hard as you did at practices and in the gym.
That was where you two had met, in a gym, and he had been blown away by your stamina. He was fresh from a breakup at the time and couldn’t help, but let his dirty mind have the best of him. He watched you lifting weights in your black yoga shorts and red Nike sports bra and just imagined it being the two of you in the gym. His mind pictured you straddled on his lap on the pec-fly machine, pulling out your ponytail and using his body like a jungle gym. So, he went over and drummed up conversation, telling you about his workouts while he was on tour, what protein shakes he preferred, and commenting on the interview you had done on Oprah’s Next Chapter that he had watched with his Mom. He thought he would charm you, but the tables turned when you turned him down for his dinner offer. When he finally got your number through publicists, you rarely returned his texts. It took Liam three months and a lot of frustration to actually line up a meal with you, a lunch in San Francisco while you were there for a children suffering from obesity event. You asked him to lend his time to it and he said he only would if you had dinner with him, but you had managed to talk him down to a lunch at a little Mexican place you were fond of. That was half a year ago and now he was no longer Liam of One Direction, but Liam [Y/N]’s boyfriend.
“Man, that was intense!” You breathed out, slowing down from your jog as you stepped around a final rock and reached your destination at the top of the trail. You didn’t even take notice of the view yet, you held your hands on your hips as your toned stomach moved in and out rapidly, and waited for Liam to join you, and he was only a handful of steps behind. Quickly, you checked the time on your watch and calculated how long it took you, not at all satisfied with the results.
“Get that look out of your eyes.” Panting, Liam managed to say as he grabbed hold of his knees, feeling them wobble, as he came to a stop right beside you. “The fact that we finished that at all is impressive. Now I understand why it’s called ‘Madman’s Mountain’.” Sweat beads dropped from his forehead and landed on the rocks below his feet, but he couldn’t even be asked to wipe at his face. He was completely spent. You two were two of the most in shape people you knew of, but you were both hoping that a helicopter could pick you up instead of having to take the trail down again. Even thinking about driving home seemed painfully exhausting to Liam.
“Yeah.” He was right and you knew it, but you didn’t get at the level you were from being happy with average results. “Thank you for joining me.” You sat down on ground, turning around and staring out at the tree tops that spread out around you, shades of green you didn’t know existed surrounded you and showed little sign of stopping. It really was a beautiful sight to behold and, suddenly, all your hard work felt worth it. You took a long sip from your water bottle and reached your arm out to hand it to Liam, just in case he was out of water himself. You had noticed him pouring a lot over his face twice on the trek. “This is gorgeous. Totally worth it.” You exhaled, your breath finally normal, as you dined on the view.
“I don’t know if it’s worth it, but it is stunning.” Still trying to steady his heart, Liam said while sitting down next to you. He drank from your water bottle and reached into his shorts for his cell phone to snap a picture of where you two were. “It is nice to be away from everything though. It’s seriously just you and I up here.” That was why Liam had agreed to the hike. You two loved being active together, dog parks and gym dates made up your romantic calendar, but he had heard enough horror stories about Madman Mountain to be hesitant. However, knowing that there was no paparazzi alive in good enough physical form to make the hike up there for a photo of you two, he agreed. He just wanted a moment with you where he didn’t have the world watching, where the only people in the relationship mattered.
LOUIS: Some people grew up on Disney, some people were raised on Rock and Roll music, but you had been pretty much nurtured amongst comedians. Your mother was an agent and booked the freshest funny talent, some people said she knew whether someone was bankable or not within five minutes of them coming into her office for a meeting. She always told you that you had a gift with impeccable timing and your knack for weaving bizarre stories. You grew up around funny people who were in the midst of perfecting their craft, meeting them right before they took off and absorbing what you could from their learning experience. They always gave you their favorite comedy movies or albums as a gift and you soaked it up the way you should have been soaking up flashcards and notes for your school exams. At sixteen, you performed your first amateur night, sneaking in on a Thursday when you should have been sleeping in your own bed. The crowd might as well have been crickets, but it didn’t discourage you. You were just more driven than before and, by the time, you were old enough to actually be in the clubs, you had a pretty solid set. Now, you were in demand. You were on your first tour, your first comedy special just filmed, and you were being hired to write for a few different comedy movies with actors that you had idolized since you were eye high to a pig’s thigh.
“I’m so jealous!” Louis cried to you on the phone. You could just picture him, grabbing at his hair and his eyes dilating wider than usual. “You’re getting ready to go for dinner with Christopher Walken and I can’t come. Man, I actually feel my insides turning green.” He explained.
“Well, you could come. You know you could.” While you zipped up your tall leather boots, you reminded him.
Were you in love with Louis? Hopelessly. Was Louis happy with you? Without question. Were you two out in the open? Not even slightly. There wasn’t even speculation about it. In fact, you were pretty sure most of the world thought he was still with Eleanor. It bothered you half of the time and the rest of the time you understood. You and Louis had met on Red Nose Day. You performed a quick fifteen minute set and then, backstage, James Corden had introduced you to Louis, Eleanor, Liam, and Niall. All four of them had sore sides from your set and were eager for the chance to meet you. Eleanor even tweeted a picture of you, her, and Louis together (captioning it: with two of the funniest people I know). In fact, you quite liked Eleanor and when One Direction was performing, you sat with her in the green room and talked fashion and what it was like to be with someone as famous as Louis Tomlinson. At the time, you hadn’t expected that you and Louis would become fast friends. He came to some of your smaller venues, sometimes with Eleanor and other times with friends, and you would spend time with him afterwards at a bar or up at a hotel pool. Neither of you made a move on one another until after he and Eleanor had broken up. He kissed you for the first time after your comedy special had been taped, backstage right before your mother popped a bottle of champagne in celebration. It completely caught you by surprise, but you didn’t think twice before kissing back. You two had decided that night that if you were going to see one another as more than friends to keep it to yourselves for now. It was out of respect for Eleanor and to keep from becoming tabloid targets or upsetting anyone. It was fine, too. You liked quiet nights in your apartment with Louis with takeout food and a cult classic movie. It was times like this when your world was on fire and he wasn’t there to enjoy it with you that you were disappointed. It had only been a month, but you were beginning to have enough of the hiding.
“You were the one that wanted to wait, babe.” Louis reminded you, his voice soft as freshly fallen snow, but far warmer.
“I know. It’s hard than I thought.” You giggled at yourself, looking down at the toes of your shoes as they shone up at you. “Maybe, I should call Eleanor…talk to her…”
“Don’t you think I should call first?” He asked, not wanting to put you in an awkward position. Besides, he still loved his ex very much and didn’t want to hurt her in any way. She would always be a very important person to him. “I think I should call her first.”
“Yeah, maybe.” You weren’t sure; you had never found yourself in this situation before. While you had had boyfriends before, it wasn’t ever a relationship you were invested in like this one. “Well, at least I’m bound to get some material out of this.”
Louis burst out laughing on the other end of the phone, rolling his eyes as he calmed down.
“I like that you’re looking on the bright side, babe. Love you. Call me after your dinner tonight and let me know how perfect Christopher Walken is in person.”
ZAYN: Being famous had never been on your list of things to do. And you had a list of things to do. Your dad told you that you were born ambition, practically trying to be the first baby to walk out of the womb. Of course, he was exaggerating but it was still a story that you liked being told. While some people love material items and the idea of being worshiped like a mantelpiece, you were taken by things that bared heavier weight. Intellect, creativity, interest, and hard work. You didn’t think twice about pursuing Zayn Malik because he had all four of those qualities and you hoped, deeply but secretly, that he found all four of those things and a little bit more in you. It had been a fluke that the two of you met. One Direction had such a busy schedule that you didn’t think they would show up to a charity event as small as trying to save a historic library in South London, but he came, representing Bradford, and you had the chance to have a quick chat with him in the reference section while your knees knocked together below your white cocktail dress. When he asked what you did, you were truthful, a journalism student. He didn’t need to know you were writing a book, the first of what you hoped would branch into a series. Your best friend and parents didn’t even know that that was why you were so sleep deprieved, you were up late banging out paragraph upon paragraph on your laptop, lost in the fictional world you had wanted to create for a long time.
Tonight, a whole year later, you were standing on the balcony of your Maida Vale apartment, glancing over your shoulder to try and see the time on the clock inside, but when you looked, you saw Zayn watching you behind the screen.
“Are you not going to be sleeping tonight?” He was long since used to your insomniac tendencies, but he did think tonight was particularly cuter than the rest. His tattoos were mostly revealed as he sat shirtless, wearing only his black sweatpants. He slid the screen door to the side and joined you on the concrete, closing it with one hand behind his back. “Are you nervous? There’s no turning back now. There’s already been articles published and twelve hundred pre-orders.” He reminded you, your heart instantly beating faster. You leaned your backside against his chest and reached up to wrap both arms behind his neck.
“It’s just all happening. Tomorrow, well, today, I’m going to have a book on the shelves.”
“A book New York Times has already called ‘a modern day classic’.” Usually, he quoted about how they said you were a creative voice that your generation should read, but this one was just as reassuring to hear.
“How can I sleep when everything I wanted is about to come true? I don’t want to miss anything.” Quietly, you squealed, his hands clasped in front of you around your middle.
“You’d rather stand out here and get hypothermia?” He chuckled, his breath hot against your ear.
“It’s not that cold.” You shrugged, feeling a kiss placed upon the top of your head, right behind your messy bun. “I just want to know exactly what the world looked like when it all happened.”
“It looks like you with a funny little bun on your head,” He spoke, squeezing it with one hand and then gliding it back down to where his other hand was on your stomach. “Me, underdressed and freezing, and a whole lot of concrete and brick walls.” He laughed as your view really was just roof top after roof top.
“I’m just excited, Zayn.” Finally, you turned around to face him, your hands sliding up his back in a little attempt to warm him up.
He laughed and kissed your nose, pulling you closer and using your bun for a chin rest.
“I remember the night before our first album came up, I couldn’t sleep either. So, I’ll stay up with you.” He promised with a smile, as proud of you as you were of him. You really did feel like you could have it all together.
Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!
Rate the Ship - Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs
How long will they last? - F O R E V E R
How quickly did/will they fall in love? - For Oikawa, it was love at first sight. For Suga, it took a little longer.
How was their first kiss? - Sweet and cute ^^
Who proposed? - Oikawa! Many times, because he is enamored with Suga. He officially proposed after 2 years :)
Who is the best man/men? - Iwaizumi and Daichi!
Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - none
Who did the most planning? - They split it!
Who stressed the most? - Oikawa!
How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.
Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Kageyama but Suga talked Oikawa into letting him come!
Who is on top? - They switch!
Who is the one to instigate things? - Suga!
How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now
How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head
How long do they normally last? - A while xD
Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Yup!
How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.
How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.
How many children will they have naturally? - none
How many children will they adopt? - 1
Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - oikawa
Who is the stricter parent? - Suga
Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Suga
Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Oikawa!
Who is the more loved parent? - Both are equally loved!
Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? They both are the power couple of the PTA
Who cried the most at graduation? - Suga!
Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Oikawa
Who does the most cooking? - Suga!
Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Suga again :p
Who does the grocery shopping? - Oikawa, surprisingly bc Suga would put in too many spicy things
How often do they bake desserts? - Oikawa does the baking tbh
Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - A little of both
Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Suga!
Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Oikawa
Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Neither tbh
Who cleans the room? - Oikawa
Who is really against chores? - Suga
Who cleans up after the pets? - They split it!
Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Suga
Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Oikawa
Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Suga xD
Who takes the longer showers/baths? - OIKAWA….but sometimes that’s bc Suga joins him B)
Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They take the dog out for a jog with them!
How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Every holiday :p
What are their goals for the relationship? - To love and support each other!
Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Suga
Who plays the most pranks? - Their house is a living prank war tbh