Fuck, kill or marry: Elena, June, Zara
F: Zara
M: Elena
K: June (but it’s all a ploy, because they need to fake their deaths, acquire new identities and start a spy agency)

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Israel

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from Jordan

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Georgia
seen from Russia
Fuck, kill or marry: Elena, June, Zara
F: Zara
M: Elena
K: June (but it’s all a ploy, because they need to fake their deaths, acquire new identities and start a spy agency)
Drink Me
@zara-mayfield
“Drink Me” - drabble about my character taking shot with yours
Occasionally Sal did run into some people from the Grid group at the bars he went to, but it was usually Kishan and it was usually the same bar that they both hung out at. Sometimes it just so happened that the only seat available or one of the few available was near one or the other, so occasionally they did join each other. The few other times he’d run into people from the Grid, they usually only spoke briefly and it was mostly because Sal tried to get out as soon as he could.
This was a somewhat different night, though. An old friend from Vegas had flown out to visit him for a yearly get together and it was upon his friend’s insistence that they go to a club and not a bar. Sal hated everything about clubs, but he went just to appease his friend. It was so crowded that Sal couldn’t even see up to the DJ booth, and as much as his friend kept insisting they should go further into the crowd, Sal was determined that they stay by the bar because the only way he could get through a club outing was to be drunk for most of it.
Well over an hour after they’d arrived, there was an announcement that the current DJ had just finished her set and would be followed by another who’d take care of the crowd through the rest of the night. Sal heard the entire thing but couldn’t see it, and the name shouted over the microphone didn’t register at all as he ordered himself and his friend two shots. After the first hour at a club, he had no patience for mixers and usually went straight for shots. The bartender was so busy that it took a couple minutes for him to finally place the glasses down and do a quick, sloppy pour. Just as Sal was about to pick both up, and hand flew in out of the corner of his eye and snatched up one of the shots before he could. He snapped his head to the side to see who it was, visibly startled to see a grinning Zara there.
“You shouldn’t have,” she joked in a loud voice over the music before downing the shot. She reached out for the second one that Sal still hadn’t laid a finger on yet, and he for some reason wasn’t expecting it enough to quickly stop her. “But if I was really that good then I was really that good.”
Sal motioned for the bartender to get him another couple shots, taking the time to process what she said and put it together enough to realize she’d been the DJ.
“Yeah, you were good,” he stated with a shrug, repeating the remark when he realized he was speaking too low for the environment. “Made me not want to be here a little less. Until you stole my fucking shots.”
“If you don’t want to be here then leave!” Zara declared.
“Can’t.” Sal motioned toward his friend, who’d gotten distracted with a flirtatious pursuit that would definitely end in a rejection. “He’s paying for the Uber home.”
Zara lifted her eyebrows with a smirk, but seemed to immediately forget whatever she might’ve been about to say when the bartender came over to give Sal two replacement shots. “Two more,” she stated, holding up her fingers to emphasize how many shots she wanted. When he disappeared, she turned to Sal with an expectant look. “What the fuck are you waiting for? You’re two shots behind already.”
You cooking could possibly be better than sex. That's saying something man, open up a fucking restaurant or something, depriving the world of your culinary skills is a fucking sin.
“...Oh...kay...”
★
I like you // I love you // You’re one of my best friends // You’re like family // You are family // I dislike you // I hate you // I’d kill you if I got the chance // I want you to like me // I’m scared of you // I would adopt you // I’d date you // I’d sleep with you // I’d marry you // I’m worried about you // You confuse me // You’re annoying // I pity you // I respect you // I trust you // I feel protective of you // I’d invite you with me to parties // I’d lend you my money // I’d borrow your money // You’re good-looking // I’m suspicious of you // I’m hiding something from you // You’re fun // You’re boring // I’m upset with you // You’re nice // You’re mean // I’m envious of you // You’re smart // You’re stupid // I look up to you // I think you’re a better person than me // I think I’m a better person than you // I want to apologize to you // I wish I’d never met you // I never want to forget you // I want to get to know you better
A silver parachute drifts slowly to the ground. A small box is attached with a note from Sponsor Zara Clos. Inside is a bandana. The note reads: “For the hair."
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A silver parachute drifts slowly to the ground. A medium box is attached with a note from Sponsor Zara Clos The. Inside is a spear. The note reads: “Didn't find brushes. Close enough?"
A silver parachute drifts slowly to the ground. A small box is attached with a note from Sponsor Zara Clos. Inside are night vision glasses. The note reads: “I didn't get the story.”
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A silver parachute drifts slowly to the ground. A small box is attached with a note from Sponsor Zara Clos. Inside is crackers. The note reads: “Tell me more stories.”