#Black Friday Car Service

[toashesireturn]

I've talked about this interest briefly on here in the tags of some posts before but I figured I'd actually clarify that I am doing my capstone on church architecture and culture and how that intersects and to kick that off finally I'm visiting a local episcopal church today

[cottonlemonade]

First Date

word count: 1157 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Sakusa x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: implications of xenophobia

When you finally said Yes to a date with Sakusa you had an inkling it would get fancy, but not “five star rooftop restaurant” kind of fancy. The sushi place was hidden, out of sight of tourist attractions and other major travel spots, giving it an air of “if you know, you know”. Sakusa was a regular.

His considerate gesture of sending you a link to the restaurant’s dress code a week before the date, only sent you into a panic spiral. You never owned a dress even close as fancy as was required and even if you had the money to afford one, Japan didn’t exactly cater to a foreigner’s chubby body type. Only after nearly losing your mind did you find a place at the other side of Tokyo that rented dresses that you could barely fit into and with half a month’s rent now clinging uncomfortably to your squishy tummy, you met Sakusa outside your apartment on a Friday night.

“You look gorgeous.”, he said with a small smile, opening the passenger door to his car. With your tongue tucked between your lips for concentration you accepted his hand to help you inside. The dress didn’t exactly allow for much movement.

You chatted about your day at work as he drove and he invited you to his next game before you even reached your destination. He handed his car keys to a valet and offered his arm to lead you inside.

In the elevator you made sure to smooth out any wrinkles in your dress, real or imagined, and gasped when the doors slid open.

The atmosphere was intimate and calm. Over the quiet hum of voices you could just make out the sounds of traditional Japanese music and smartly dressed waiters brought mouthwatering, jaw-droppingly beautiful designed plates of sushi to the tables. Floor to ceiling windows allowed the patrons an unobstructed view of the city lights.

“Sakusa-sama.”, the lady at the reception greeted him with a professional smile, “Welcome. Please follow me.”

You saw her hesitate for a moment when she finally noticed you, but led you to a table in the corner of the restaurant. You held your breath when you sat down, the ride was already a challenge for regular breathing and you had no idea how you were supposed to fit any food inside you with the restrictions of the dress. But you didn’t care when Sakusa smiled at you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me.”, you beamed.

A waiter appeared at the table and said with deeply faked apologetic tones, “I’m very sorry, sir. But it seems we cannot serve you tonight.”

Sakusa raised an eyebrow, then glanced at you, then back to the waiter.

“This is not going to be an issue.”, he said coolly, then turned his attention back to you. But the waiter didn’t leave.

“Sir, we will have to ask you to come back another time.”

“Please explain it to me. We are right on time, we are appropriately dressed and I made reservations.”

“Sir-“

Sakusa glared at him. “Please tell the chef that if he has any issues tonight to come tell me himself.”

And with that the waiter poured some water into the empty glasses before you, bowed and left.

You looked after him thoughtfully and took a sip. It happened before that you were turned away from restaurants due to a “no foreigners” rule, but you didn’t think that such an issue could arise at a place like this.

Sakusa smiled again and steered the conversation back to lighter topics, making you feel at ease within seconds. You were about to inch your hand closer to his when another person came to the table. He was undoubtedly the chef, dressed as he was. The waiter stood a little behind him.

“Sakusa-sama.”, the man in the spotless black uniform began.

“You’re not serious.”, Sakusa couldn’t help but scoff.

“Please understand that we are not able to provide the full service to foreigners.”

“She speaks Japanese.”, Sakusa informed them, “And even if she didn’t, I would translate for her.”

The chef shifted a little, throwing some kind of glance in your direction that you couldn’t quite interpret.

“We won’t be able to accommodate any dietary restrictions, Sakusa-sama.”

“I don’t have any.”, you said with a strained smile.

The chef was quiet and looked at your date imploringly. He held his gaze, then Sakusa quietly pushed back his chair and stood up.

He offered his hand to you.

“Thank you. The water was delicious.”, you said sweetly to the waiter who avoided your eyes.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone about your hospitality at my family’s next gala.”, Sakusa added with a cold smile and gently pulled you along, past a few gawking people to the elevator.

When the doors closed and the sounds of the restaurant disappeared, Sakusa let out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry.”, he said, leaning his back against the paneling, crossing his arms.

“Don’t worry about it. I think that’s about as much exposure as I would ever need to a five star restaurant.”

He chuckled. “The next one will be better, I promise.”

You smiled and went to stand next to him, lightly brushing your shoulder against his to cheer him up. The elevator began its slow descent.

“Bet you can’t wait to get out of that dress.”, he noted, then his eyes widened a moment later, “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You laughed. “You’re not wrong actually. Breathing does not come as a standard with this one.”

He considered you for a moment.

“Turn around.” He said it gently. More as a question than a demand.

You blinked in confusion, then did as he requested.

“Don’t be alarmed.” He stepped closer, his breath brushing against your neck.

You felt his hands work on the zipper on your back.

“What are you-“, you began feebly, your voice not quite having the grasp on your vocal chords like you would have wished.

He slowly ran the zipper down, the buttons by your nape holding the dress together but you felt the immediate relief around your tummy.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

“There. Better?”, he asked. You nodded, your heart still beating too fast to turn around without revealing the intense blush on your cheeks.

The elevator came to a stop and the automatic voice announced you arrived at the lobby.

“Your bra is pretty.”, he said quietly, almost whispering it into your ear as the doors opened.

You followed him silently through the lobby, holding onto the jacket’s lapels.

“You still hungry?”, he asked when the cool night air brushed your faces as you waited for the valet to get his car.

“Starving.”, you admitted.

He grinned. “I know just the place.”

People stared but Sakusa couldn’t care less.

He rolled up the sleeves of his black button down and offered to trade you a chicken nugget for some French fries.

art: @qyhssss on Twitter

[paradiseprincesss]

imperfect for you | jonathan crane

i saw the moodboard @mothhball made for jonathan cranes mornings, and i was like i must write a fluffy fic about this immediately! also this is inspired by imperfect for you by ariana grande because as an ari stan, i had to write something based off her songs and this fit perfect with this song.

summary: you and jonathan spend the morning together, and you're feeling a little anxious from the stressful week you've had - but not to worry, your psychiatrist boyfriend knows exactly how to calm you down and cheer you up.

warnings: reader has a shitty week lol, minor age gap, kissing, jon spoils the reader hehehehe just fluff really

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

it was a quiet sunday morning, the sunlight beamed through the window of you and jonathan's shared apartment, and you stirred softly, waking from your sleep. you softly opened your eyes as you quietly awoke from your slumber - but you felt the absence of arms wrapped around you.

turning around, you noticed that the other side of the bed was empty, and you glanced over to the sunshine that was starting to peek through the curtains covering your big window; it was peaceful, serene.

you could hear water running in the kitchen, and some dishes being moved around as well as what sounded like utensils. with a yawn, you reached over to the bedside table and unplugged your phone, scrolling through the notifications. after a few moments of looking through your phone and replying to a few unanswered messages from your friends, you toss the phone on the pillow beside you with a quiet little huff.

the week you had with truly a week sent from hell. nothing seemed to be going right for you - nothing! true story. it all started on monday when your alarm didn't go off, and you were embarrassingly late to your lecture, which your professor wasn't too happy about. after the last half hour of the lecture you managed to catch, you had to beg your professor to extend the deadline for an assignment you had forgotten to hand in over the previous weekend, god it was humiliating.

then tuesday rolled around, and it was like the universe was punishing you. as you were driving to the gym, the check engine light in your car flicked on.

so, wednesday came along...and you didn't have a car since it was getting serviced in the shop, and jonathan was at work but you had to get groceries. you didn't want to walk to the grocery store because you'd have to carry the heavy groceries all the way back to your apartment, so you spent a ridiculous amount of money on getting your groceries delivered.

thursday and friday came and went, nothing too crazy happened until the end of the day on friday. as you were on your way home from the mechanics, with your repaired car (were not going to talk about the financial damage that did), you received a notification on your phone that your grade was updated for the late project you handed in, and the grade was...well, it wasn't the best mark you received, let's just say that.

when it came to saturday, you spent the day napping and wallowing in self pity, because after the week you had - why wouldn't you? jonathan was unfortunately working on saturday, which was unusual but he occasionally worked an extra shift on saturday if he needed to work through any extra patient files, intake forms, prescriptions and such. after he was off work, you were already curled up in bed and fast asleep, so he quietly showered and got into bed with you.

and now, finally, were here - sunday morning.

"sweetheart?" jonathan's voice snapped you out of your mental reflection of the shit week you just had, and you quickly looked up to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom.

jonathan wasn't in his usual suit and tie - no, he was in his grey sweats (don't even get me started on what those did to you), and his black t-shirt, and his glasses.

"i called out your name because i thought i heard you and i thought you had woken up, but you didn't respond. i came in here to check on you - are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks softly, looking at you with an expression that was mixed with him being both concerned but smitten at you in your sleepy state, bedhead and all.

as soon as he finished his sentence, the tears started to fall. you didn't even notice them really, but as soon as he saw you start to cry, he was rushing to sit with you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you in hopes to comfort you. jonathan placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and spoke softly to you.

"oh, sweetheart..." he takes his hand and tilts your chin up to look at your pretty face, and uses his thumb to wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks, "what's wrong?"

you choked back a sob as he asked you that, and you looked away, embarrassed. "i've just had such a shitty week, jon. i feel like such a failure." you mumble, feeling yourself get worked up emotionally.

"hey," he says gently, softly guiding you to look at him again, "deep breaths, my love, deep breaths. you are not a failure."

you look at him with a pouty expression and teary eyes, his words always had an effect on you. "i barely passed on my last assignment, and i just- i just feel like i fucked up. it's so stupid."

"i understand, i can't imagine how stressful that must be." he softly says to you, even though he can imagine how stressful that is, he studied to be a doctor after all - but to him, your feelings were always a top priority, he always wanted you to feel validated.

"and," you say, tears overflowing again, "since the car was in the shop, i had to get the groceries delivered to the apartment and it was expensive - and don't even get me started on the car. that was a nightmare, it was expensive to fix the stupid thing."

jonathan just chuckles softly, "i told you to use my card for things like that, sweetheart. groceries, car payments, shopping, all that - i gave you my other credit card specifically so that you wouldn't have to worry about that kind of stuff." jonathan says softly, kissing the top of your head again.

"...well, i was stressed, okay? i forgot you gave it to me." you say, looking up at him innocently.

he just shook his head and laughed softly, pulling you into a kiss, and kept his arms around you, to hold you close, keep you there, be there for you.

after a moment, you pulled away to whisper softly to him. "thank you for loving me even when i'm a mess."

he looks at you lovingly, "i'll love you under any circumstance, darling, don't be silly." he says to you, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, the little action making your heart leap.

"before i knew you, i was always fucked up - like, so anxious all the time. emotionally distressed, i'm not even kidding...but i'm not like that since i met you." you say softly to him, as he kept you in his arms.

"you're the love of my life, you know that?" he mumbles against your lips as he leans in for another kiss, which you gladly let him do.

"you make the bad stuff delightful. i love you." you say, breathlessly, between kisses.

after he heard you say that, he kept you wrapped up in his arms, the two of you tangled slightly in between the white sheets of your shared bed, the sun gently glimmering through the window. for a moment, the world was still, just the two of you - perfection in a world of imperfection.

"i made breakfast and coffee..." he says softly, and took your hand in his, "we should have it before it gets cold."

you giggle softly with a nod, and take his hand letting him lead you into the kitchen.

these were your favourite kind of mornings, the ones spent with the man you love, the ones where you could blissfully ignore the world as you were too wrapped up in jonathans warm embrance to care about anything else.

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Do You Need to Know Right Now?

Hello beautiful people. Happy Monday! Today is special because this will be my first fully intuitive PAC reading, meaning no cards just vibes lmao. This week Friday, I am having yet another Five Dollar Friday Sale so stay tuned in for that! Without further ado, please select the image that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-4)

Pile One: You need to learn how to surrender to the Divine. I heard “the choice is yours”. Whatever major decision you’ve been contemplating on will ultimately be up for you to decide. You choose your own destiny but you don’t have to know all the steps/details of getting there. Have some confidence in your journey. Everything will be alright. This is for some of you, if you are a business owner or your love language is acts of service, you need to learn how to say no. Turning your services down to people who don’t deserve it is okay to do. All money isn’t good money. As you try to make a name for yourself, lean into your gut feelings. Don’t navigate through this world by being willfully naive. You know more than most. Some of you may have been encountering shady characters. I am channeling the energy of Douda from The Chi; very Devil-like, King of Cups (RX) type of energy. A lot of you have been dealing with two-faced men within the past two years but I am seeing a door shutting in someone’s face in my third eye. You are going to start walking away from people/places/things that no longer serve you. This newfound courage will result in long-term abundance and prosperity. Don’t be afraid to start over. Out with the old, in with the new, babe!

extras: jenifer lewis. “candace/candy”. florist. unable to wink. listening to whitney houston. weather forecast. “maurice/morris”. feeling underestimated. desperate housewives. fearful. cotton candy. yes indeed (2018). cold at night. arm wrestling champ. loose cannon.

Pile Two: I feel like you are going through some physical changes. You could be pregnant, soon-to-be moving, upgrading your furniture, painting your house, learning how to do makeup to be an MUA, etc. You could be doing multiple things at once right now. Your ability to shift from one gig to another is admirable. You’re very versatile. You’re an independent person but you should know that you don’t have to carry the work alone. You have people around you that are willing to help and nurture your talents and skills. The car you drive was created because of team effort. The food you eat is consumable because of a team! The books you read were not solely published because of the author, but because there was a team behind them! Nobody is truly by themselves, honey! Allow people to experience your energy. I feel like it took a long time for you to be this comfortable with yourself. But ultimately, you are human and you need people around you! You will know who your people are when you get around them.

extras: diana/deana. red flags. movie theatre. drug major. oomf. cheese lover. movement. smokey. black eyed peas. rice & peas. red nails. classic manicure. turning 30/milestone birthday.

Pile Three: I feel like you’re guarding your energy right now, Pile Three. You’ve been caved in with your lover, lol. I didn’t mean for this to turn into a love reading but heyyyy, I see you! :). Your union was not supposed to last as long as it has on the surface but it did. I am sensing that it was originally a one night stand or a summer fling. However, it was divinely orchestrated to be that way. I am seeing those Pinterest drawings of soulmates in my third eye. This person is someone you’re aligned with on a soul level; this is karmic. However, karmic ≠ codependent. Make sure that you have your own life outside of this person. This person does have all eyes on you and vice versa. I can tell that the passion is mutual. If you are planning to go on a vacation with this person soon, expect a promotion in your relationship to happen. This promotion could be an engagement/wedding, moving in together, meeting the family, etc. I see you two eating slices of fruit on the beach, feeding one another while smiling and giggling amongst each other. This is a lovely connection thus far. I also see you being spoiled with gifts of your choice. This person is a gift giver for sure, along with wanting to spend quality time with you! However, this is just the beginning. Ground yourself in the present moment. Savor and soak up every waking day with this person.

extras: montgomery, alabama. jason/justin. sam. cartier glasses. fake ID. retribution. academy. pork. glamorous. marjorie. fake gym rat. attracted to pheromones. high achiever. monie/monet. kansas.

Pile Four: This is for a few of you, but some of you could have known someone that was recently released from jail/mental health facility/nursing home. You could be their caregiver/keeper. Others of you have family members/a partner that are financially dependent on you. I know that you feel burdened by this. Both the financial burden and the mental burden can be frustrating. I do see your situation improving. Someone is lightening the load. I feel like you are going to receive extra support, specifically from another woman. She is going to offer help & it will no longer be a job carried by one person. Whoever this is, they have been in your position before so you don’t have to worry about being pitied or feeling lesser than her. Another thing is that you should definitely get started on your laundry. I feel like you are going through a bout of depression right now. Start off with the small tasks first then do the big things. You need to take your time & be patient with yourself.

extras: air jordan’s. new microwave. corn on the cob. jogging. morph. telling stories. future focused. gold rings. coffee. marlboro. notre dame. golden shepard.

[worldsaparted]

stolen glances - daniel larusso

IN THE MIDDLE of the school hallways, Y/N found herself staring out at Daniel Larusso who was always entwined in something, or with someone.

The only times she had ever really spoken to Daniel were the times she would drop off treats with Mr. Miyagi for his help fixing her car. Since those have ended, she hadn’t seen Daniel anywhere other than school.

So she took advantage of it, everyday that he ran down that hallway, or greeted his friends, she watched. Discreetly, of course. She enjoyed seeing if he’d wear his shades or not, if he had a new black eye, and what his hair would look like.

As for Daniel, he never really took much notice to it. Not until Ali Mills, his good friend, pointed it out to him. “You oughta ask that girl out the way she’s been looking at you.” She laughed, sharing looks with the rest of her friends as they saw her swiftly walk by, clinging on to her books and fixing her hair that fell perfectly onto her shoulders.

“Who, L/N?” Daniel inquired, looking up from his shirt that he fixed to Y/N. Ali and the rest of the group nodded eagerly and watched as Daniel shook his head.

“Nah, she’s got her own thing going on.” And he was right, other than school, of community service - she was completely to herself.

So for weeks, it went on. Y/N slowly gave up on this childlike crush she held on Larusso, and as the end of their senior year came, the thought of him was almost completely out of her mind. She minded her own, and on this particular Friday, she continued doing that.

She held her binder in hand as she pushed the doors to the outside swiftly, passing up many people who spoke to their friends. It was often that Johnny Lawrence would berate her in first period for being such a school-obsessed girl, but she didn’t care, and never did. She took her homework out at lunch, to a spot under a tree and worked on it.

Out here, it was a lot more quiet, and that was just how she liked it.

Her nose was stuck in her science book, and her hand had been carefully moving to perfect her one pager for that class until a soccer ball had hit her notebook, knocking her books and pencil out of her hand. “Are you serious?” She sighed, gathering her belongings and cleaning up before taking the soccer ball, and standing up to return it. She made her way over, and looking up, she noticed that Daniel Larusso was making his way over to meet her in the middle. And he did.

“Hey..” he paused a bit as his eyes met hers, and it was quiet for a bit before she handed over the soccer ball. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

His eyes searched hers as he held the soccer ball, tossing it from one hand to another and now - he took notice to the pretty specks upon her face, he knew she was a striking girl, but now that he was so close, it seemed as if the fact that she’d never give him such a chance left his mind.

“Well..” Y/N gestured to the soccer ball, and watched as he tossed it aside and back to his friends, a small welcoming smile overcoming his lips.

Y/N’s brows furrowed and she noticed as Daniel stuffed his hands into his pocket instinctively. “There’s an end the school year party tonight, you get invited?” As the question left his mouth, he knew it was stupid of him to ask. Y/N shook her head, and as much as she wanted to walk away - there was no chance she would.

“Well…” Another staring contest.

Daniel blinked his eyes after a few seconds, and he continued his sentence. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“Excuse me?” Y/N held back a laugh of disbelief, and Daniel nodded, insistently.

“Yeah, how ‘bout it?” There was a small pause, Y/N glanced back to her homework, and eventually turned back to Daniel.

“Hm, alright.” She sheepishly agreed, and another smile creeped onto Daniel’s face, and he clapped in triumph.

“Alright? Alright!” His hand touched her shoulder as his friends called him back, yelling his name. “Hey, I’ll get you around 7, sound good to you?”

“It does.” Y/N nodded, and with that he ran off.

Later that night, the two adolescents had both remembered that Daniel never even took her address down so at 7:20, he still wasn’t there. The girl began removing her makeup, a slight frown on her face the whole time until there was various knocks at the door, aggressive knocks at that.

She answered it, and there Daniel was. Panting, and holding up a paper with her address on it. “Asked Miyagi.”

After the short drive, they made it to the party. Daniel immediately put his hand on Y/N’s back and led her to the back. There was no doubt that people took these things serious, some were shotgunning their drinks, or chugging it to see who could finish the fastest. There were people in the corner of the house making out, people going upstairs and Daniel awkwardly gulped at the sight of that.

The two were only inside for so long, it was loud, humid, and extremely obnoxious. They sat on the stairs and as the music blared into their ears, Y/N leaned over, yelling into Daniel’s ear.

“Think I’m gonna go inside.” She began to prop herself up.

“I’ll come withya!” He yelled back, taking her hand and the two snuck to the back, shutting the door behind them and finally finding some peace. They sat on the edge of the pool, Y/N was criss crossed, and Daniel’s feet were in the pool.

“Sorry about this. Not an ideal place to get to know you.”

It was quiet between the two, Daniel apologized and Y/N hummed in response, but that was all for a while. That was all until he hesitantly laughed, “You know what’s funny..”

“Hm?”

“My pals told me I should ask you out.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N furrowed her brows, looking over and Daniel’s eyes immediately widened.

“Woah! No! That’s not why I’m here.”

“I just - I couldn’t when they said to. Even though I definitely caught you staring a few times…” He glanced over at Y/N, watching as her cheeks burned, and she fixed her vision on the pool water. “I just didn’t believe you wanted anything to do with me.”

“Listen, Daniel - ”

“ - I was right to think so. Look at the stuff I’m bringing you to, and you probably just hate these.”

“You’re all about your future and I couldn’t even think of mine.” He scoffed, staring out at the pool.

“Will you be quiet?” Y/N spoke up, her voice raising a bit and she bit her lip, rolling her eyes a bit before speaking up. “I’ve been all about you since you got here, so whatever you’re thinking, just don’t.”

After that, silence overcame the two. Daniel’s expression of worry turned into a faint expression of excitement, and Y/N scolded herself quietly for confessing so easily.

“You what?” Daniel asked, pointing to his ear.

“You heard me, Larusso.”

“Not too well.” He sighed, and Y/N smiled a bit, watching him do the same as he looked up at her. His fairly sparkly brown eyes met hers, and suddenly, everything else around them ceased to exist. Daniel’s smile faded a bit, he nervously took her hand in his, and he leaned in. Slowly, he leaned in. His eyes searched hers constantly to make sure she was alright with this, and when their lips neared, he slightly stopped, and was greatly taken aback when Y/N had eagerly closed the gap. She pressed her parted lips against his closed ones, and leaned into the kiss.

Daniel took his hand to her knee, and the other to the back of her head to hold her there. Gently, he kissed her, and when they slowly pulled away, there were no words exchanged. None but timid laughs as they shared warm smiles.

[mylordshesacactus]

The Barrissoka Fusion You Never Knew You Wanted

So in celebration of FINALLY rounding out the originally-planned slate of barrissoka Disney AU/fusion challenge fics, I thought I'd put together a masterlist for those of you who are new, returning, or just never got around to them when they were first posted!

By sheer good luck, there are an even split of AU types--three fusions (ie, Star Wars characters adapted to a non-GFFA setting), and three alternate timelines (where the core setting is the same, but events developed differently--in this case, in a way analogous to the core plot of the movie the challenge was based on.).

Fusions

Through The Darkness And The Shadows

Setting: Fantasy-Medieval AU: Beauty and the Beast

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young princess lived in a shining castle…

It'll Sound Like A Promise

Setting: Fantasy-Medieval (Scotland Redux) AU: Brave

A clan leader’s heir had to strive for perfection. That was why Ahsoka was currently hiding in a tree.

Look To The Sky With Hope

Setting: Pirates/Fantasy Age of Sail AU: Pirates of the Caribbean (62k, 5 chapters)

Anakin Skywalker. Every sailor knows that name. Captain of the ghost ship Twilight, ferryman of the dead. Some say he preys on merchantmen, out of vengeance for the loss of his ship and crew; others that he and the charred black phantom are an honest sailor's friend, a protector in the dark and the mist. According to Ahsoka, the truth is both and neither. But the Twilight is...well, it's not real. Barriss Offee may be new to this whole pirate thing, but she knows that. It's a legend, a story, a sailor's superstition; like mermaids and Fridays and the Kraken. The ship of the dead and its captain, they're just a myth. Aren't they?

Alternate Universes

Going My Way?

AU: Aristocats Podfic: By Writers_Block, available here.

Shipwrecked and stranded on a remote agricultural planet, Barriss Offee doesn't dare reveal her identity as a Jedi for fear of drawing unwanted attention that might endanger the younglings in her care. Enter the charming, compassionate young spacer Ashla, who drops everything to take the group under her protection and asks nothing in return, as Barriss grows more and more unhappy with the necessity of lying to a young woman who's been nothing but honest with them. Meanwhile, Ahsoka Tano and her master are on an undercover mission. She really wishes she could tell the scared young mother she's taken in that she's a Jedi, but, well. The mission has to come first.

Back To The Wind

AU: Cars. (I cannot emphasize enough that this is an AU and not a fusion. They are not cars. They are people. For the love of god. It's just a plot adaptation. Please stop asking me if they're supposed to be cars.)

A hyperdrive malfunction strands Ahsoka in a nearly-abandoned trading settlement in the Outer Rim. That's not the problem. While she works off her community service sentence, she ends up in the unofficial custody of a weirdly hostile Mirialan who won't stop giving her these long, searching looks and talking about the failures of the Jedi Order like she knows something Ahsoka doesn't. That's not the problem either. The problem is...Ahsoka's starting to wonder if she really wants to go back.

When These Moments Have Passed

AU: The Fox and the Hound

Jedi Master Plo Koon was sent to Shili to retrieve a Force-sensitive youngling...and arrived just a few hours too late. Years later, a Jedi padawan and an indentured bounty hunter find themselves in the same spaceport. They shouldn't be friends, not really, but...they're more alike than they are different, straining under the weight of roles they can't escape. That bond is stronger than the galaxy's expectations. Until it isn't.

Bonus

While these are NOT part of the very specific "I can turn any classic Disney movie into a barrissoka AU, fucking try me" original challenge that spawned all this, they're some very nice AUs and if you're into AUs in general, you'll probably appreciate:

Iced Offee, Caramel Twist

AU: Coffeeshop AU

(What? Someone had to write it.)

Mirror, Mirror

AU: Sith AU

(Series/Duology)

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning 

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today. 

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?” 

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”  

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one. 

But that hope was short lived. 

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case. 

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it? 

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...” 

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way. 

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through  

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration. 

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?” 

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?” 

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times. 

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out. 

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you. 

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye. 

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine. 

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too” 

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...” 

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.  

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?  

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”  

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?” 

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”  

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you. 

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!” 

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.  

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent. 

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere. 

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand 

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even. 

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again. 

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch. 

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty” 

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features 

“You were taking so long!”  

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short. 

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.  

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?  

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.  

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you  

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute” 

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing. 

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure. 

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but- 

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something” 

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English. 

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible. 

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.  

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain. 

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion. 

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.  

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day. 

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level. 

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window. 

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused. 

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions. 

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind. 

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that 

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that. 

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly” 

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest. 

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and- 

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this. 

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it 

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?” 

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all” 

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.  

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.  

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?” 

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add. 

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning” 

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom? 

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.  

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?  

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:  

DAD 

A due reminder that none of this is real.  

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

[nationwidecarservices]

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[boss-lifter]

[Introduction]

So, electronics are super valuable and everyone wants them. Those big corporate stores have seriously stepped up their security game, making it harder to snag what you want.

But, let's face it, we're all human. We make mistakes and sometimes the store isn't on top of their game. Maybe they're understaffed, maybe the workers just don't care, or maybe they're dealing with personal issues. Whatever the case may be, it's not always impossible to get what you want.

Now, let's focus on black friday, Cyber Monday, and Boxing Day. I mean, come on, those are the days everyone's going crazy for deals. Just look up the dates, it's in the 3 friday of November every year.

Store associates will be running around helping other customers, leaving perfect opportunities for you to swoop in and grab what you want. Don't be scared to take advantage of these days, no matter what others say. Just check out my guide for spotting the store security.

Of course, you need to be organized. Plan out your route, set an early alarm, grab some coffee, and get a ride or make sure your car is empty. With a little bit of luck, you should be able to get most of what you're after.

Remember, it's gonna take some patience, skills, guts, and a bit of luck. Take whatever you can get, even if it's a similar product.

[Find your spot]

Start by making a list of the items you really want or need.

Now, what should you be looking for? Do your research, get out there, and start scoping out the best spots. Look for places with easy access to electronics. Check out big grocery stores, malls, drugstores, and electronics stores.

If you live in a small town, consider traveling to a bigger city or town. Map out all the stores in that area and plan out your route. Either go area by area or store by store, whichever you prefer.

Now, those electronics stores are a whole different story. They've got some serious security. But on black friday, they often put out a pallet of electronic goodies

Pick up the item and head over to customer service with a long lineup. Wait in the line for about 10 to 15 minutes, then act annoyed and leave with the item. This trick works because you forgot the receipt at home and didn't want to risk being denied and walking out. Just make sure to be natural and blend in as much as possible.

Another method is to have someone distract the worker or notice that they're busy with another customer. Take advantage of this moment to walk out with the item without attracting attention.

If you're in a drugstore with an electronics section or a department store, you can set up the item you want, remove the security tag, and have it ready for pickup. Buy something like $150 headphones to get a receipt. Then, simply pick up the item you want, walk out, and return the headphones on another day.

Another option is to set up a scenario where you purchase $800 speakers or a soundbar. While paying, ask the cashier to put $150 headphones in a bag. As you walk out, casually pick up the soundbar over your shoulder and wave goodbye. This method works because you're only allowed to buy and return items at the electronics area.

You can also try putting items in a bag and walking out, or leaving the item by the front door and picking it up later. Look for opportunities to make your exit when there's a momentary distraction.

To be continued... we need to come up with better ways to explain things.

For now, plan a day during Black Friday, sales, or Boxing Day. In summary, find your moment on boxing day. If it's not there, either come back later or wait around until you find your opportunity to walk out unnoticed.

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Six: Lonely

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

[A/N] I'm super far ahead on where I'm writing vs. where I'm uploading (more than the 7 chapter lead I started with) so I've decided occasionally I'll start uploading twice a week on Tuesday in addition to Friday when I feel like. Which might be every week, I don't know yet, but I felt like it today.

~

The initial plan had been to salvage any of their possessions that they could and search the living area for survivors and call that a good enough rescue effort. They’d already been through the hell of traveling through a large chunk of the facility, surely they could be forgiven for not wanting to do so again. But once there, it felt like a cop out. Chances of anyone still being alive in the parts of the facility where shit had really gone down weren’t great but not zero and there were still other places not hit too hard. With the military gone and the aliens no longer coming, their portals all firmly closed, rescue efforts would be less dangerous. And in hopes of keeping the military from trying to wipe knowledge of the incident off the face of the planet again – hopefully they thought they’d succeeded – they couldn’t shunt such work onto Tuefort’s emergency services.

Luckily, the living area not having been hit particularly hard meant there were a decent chunk of people willing to go on that rescue mission, had already been planning to in fact, and thus Gordon didn’t have to be a part of it. Instead he volunteered the team to bring the wounded back to Tuefort – they’d run out of health packs and such a while ago – and then bring back more fresh supplies – they’d brought some with them but, thinking they were going to do a half-assed rescue mission, it wasn’t much. Bubby groaned about the long drive but Gordon told him to suck it up. After all the chaos, violence and murder they’d partook in, they could at least try to balance it out by doing some good too. … And it would help keep Gordon occupied and not thinking about things he didn’t need to thing about. And it would give him a bit more time before he needed to decide what he was going to do next.

And so they decided to spend the night and head out in the morning. They’d have multiple cars this time too as several had been brought over from car park that had once been only a tram ride away but was now apparently a whole adventure to get to. But Gordon didn’t care because someone else had gone on it, bringing several cars back for transport. Meaning he’d get to drive this time.

One more night in the facility wouldn’t even be so bad because his old living space wasn’t nearly as trashed as he’d feared. The combined living room and kitchen area was a mess. It had been ransacked and even a little gooed, no corpses or corpse stains though which was a big win. And the bedroom seemed to have been left alone, meaning it was clean, safe, and thus good to sleep in.

Upon finally heading to it for the night, he wasn’t too surprised to find it’s where Benrey had disappeared again to. He’d made himself at home, playing Gordon’s Xbox 360 – it had been stored inside the rather sturdy TV cabinet and thus had been spared whatever violence had occurred here – seemingly uncaring about the crack in the corner of the TV’s screen or the massive goo stain on the couch next to him. The power in the remaining generators was limited so maybe he should be scolded for that but really, what else did he have to do? Lest he be recognized he needed to avoid the rest of the Black Mesa personal out there. Asking him to just sit and stare at a wall would’ve been unfair.

“Yo,” he said, not looking up from the screen as Gordon closed the door and set the deadbolt as the proper lock and doorknob was broken. “You only got three games, none of them that good. Why is that? I thought you were a gamer.”

“Work took up a lot of time so I didn’t have much time to play or keep up with which games were good or not.” Looking back he’d let work take up more of his time than he should’ve. “But at least you got something to do, right?”

“Yeah, guess so. Didn’t you say you also have a son? Josh or… something like that? Where’s he at?”

Damn, Gordon had hoped everyone forgot about that. “Uh… Joshua is technically a real person but he’s my nephew, not my son. And I haven’t seen him in person ever and haven’t talked to my sister in like… five years. She’s the one who sent me that picture… back when we still talked, obviously.”

“You lied.” How much it was a accusation versus just a statement of fact was hard to tell, especially with Benrey’s eyes still glued to the screen.

“Yeah… I lied. But look, I’d been lying about him for a while, okay? So I didn’t stop to think about lying to you guys too. Not that I had any idea we’d become…” he cut himself off before saying ‘friends’ he wasn’t ready to voice that word about Benrey yet. “I just lied out of habit and didn’t think anything was likely to ever come of it.”

“Why’d you lie about it so much?”

“Because… I wanted my coworkers to think I had more going on than just work stuff. So I made up a story about having an ex-wife and a kid. Everyone else had family and friends outside of Black Mesa and I wanted people to think I did too so they wouldn’t think I was a weird freak who only worked and occasionally played video games alone in the dark.” No way was he going to admit to how much effort he’d put into figuring out the exact story. His personal laptop, once left on the coffee table had become a casualty of the violence following the resonance cascade and thus he at least didn’t have to worry about Benrey snooping on it and finding the shitty story he’d wrote to keep his lies about his fake life in order. “It’s pathetic I know but… no one was ever supposed to know it wasn’t true.”

Benrey finally took his eyes off the screen to look up at Gordon. “That’s kinda sad, bro. You’re a real lonely boi, ain’t’cha?”

“Shut up, asshole. Lots of people are lonely, it’s normal. And there are way worse ways of handling it so you’re not allowed to tease me about it. Now, I’m going to bed. It’s much smaller than the one at the hotel so when you’re done gaming you can sleep on the couch, it’s since obtained a mystery stain though so, I guess you can…”

“I could sleep at the foot of the bed, next to your little feeties.”

“First off, my feet aren’t little, you should fucking know that. Second, there’s not enough room for that, I’m too tall. And third,ew, no, absolutely not, stay the fuck away from my feet. You can sleep on the couch or, if you would rather not because it’s gross, you can sleep next to me. Just don’t be weird about it and try not to wake me. Good night.” Before Benrey could respond, Gordon marched off to his room, closing the door firmly behind himself.

He’d didn’t lock it though because… wait, there were plenty of empty living spaces some of which had to have serviceable beds, he could’ve told Benrey to go find one of those instead of offering to share his. What the fuck was wrong with him? … They were in his old home and he’d committed to keeping Benrey around earlier so he’d defaulted mentally to this being a space they had to share. And Benrey had been being annoying and he was tired, making it hard to think.

Whatever, it was too late to easily take back now. But Benrey would probably fall asleep on the couch anyway. Either intentionally or because he stayed up too late playing video games. It’s not like he seemed to care that it was nasty. So probably Gordon’s blunder was fine.

***

Even if Benrey could entertain himself for a while playing even the worst video game, there was still a limit to how much he could bear and he was quickly reaching it. These couldn’t be the only games Gordon had though, right? If he was really a gamer he had to have more and maybe a whole other console somewhere. After turning the Xbox and TV off – if there was nothing else to play, Benrey was done with it for now – Benrey set to searching the space.

Such a small area, it didn’t take long search every inch of it. If there’d ever been any more games or another console, the headcrab zombies had got it. Or more likely someone had stolen it because the place had clearly been busted up and raided for stuff. But it was funny to imagine headcrab zombies sitting around a TV and playing something like Resident Evil or some other zombie killing game. Or perhaps when sorting through his stuff earlier, Gordon had moved the good stuff somewhere safer. Regardless, Benrey was out of luck here.

He moved on to the bedroom. To make sure his steps would be quiet – it’d be rude to wake Gordon on accident – he slipped his shoes off before phasing through the closed door. It was dark inside but adjusting his eyes a little to make them work better in the dark, he could see just fine. Gordon lay on the bed, his back against the wall. … Next to him was indeed enough room for Benrey to lie down as Gordon had invited him to.

After spending so much time phasing through so many large chunks of earth and rubble earlier, Benrey was a bit tired. Nothing major and he hadn’t been planning to sleep yet, he could easily keep going for a little while longer before he truly felt the need for a nap. But that first night in the hotel bed, when they’d lain back to back had been comfortable. Gordon was pleasantly warm. A general human trait; Benrey had been touched by them before, though not often and never in ways that were easy to enjoy the way his casual contact with Gordon had been so far. So maybe he could lie down and bask in the warmth Gordon’s body gave off while he napped for a little bit. It was pretty cold in here after all; deep underground and made of concrete meant the facility was often rather cold, especially at night without anything running to regulate the temperature.

He crept closer and before he could second guess himself, lifted the blanket and crawled underneath it. With Gordon facing him, he didn’t dare press directly into him but he did get as close as he could without actually touching him, made easier by the fact that Gordon was curled up in a ball under the blankets. Even not touching him, it was pleasantly warm so close to him where his heat sank into the softness around them. Rather nice except… he was tense, his expression scrunched up as he mumbled under his breath. Muffled by the pillow his face was partially pressed into, it hadn’t been audible by the door but certainly was when so close to him.

Another nightmare. Damn, that meant Benrey had to wake him again, huh? No basking in his warmth for Benrey. … It had been a kind of weird thing to want anyway though. Probably best to not indulge it.

With a sigh, Benrey started to sit up but stopped as Gordon, seemingly still sleeping but sensing his presence so close anyway, uncurled a little to reach for him. Like in the car, he found Benrey’s arm and pulled on it, gently enough that Benrey could’ve resisted but… curious to see what sleeping Gordon intended to do with his arm, didn’t. He pulled it to his upper chest, forcing Benrey’s wrist to bend under his chin. It… seemed to sooth him, the tightness of his curl easing a little as he quieted. Interesting. Perhaps Benrey could enjoy his warmth for a little bit after all.

He shifted a bit closer so that their bodies were touching. Gordon opened himself a little more, his lower arm moving to wrap around Benrey’s shoulder, the gun hand right next to his head, pulling him the rest of the way over so they weren’t just touching but Benrey was pressed into him. … Wow, okay.

Gordon had relaxed, his breathing deep and steady. Nightmare apparently over. Benrey was so good at this fixing nightmares thing he’d done it just by letting Gordon touch him.

Carefully, Benrey shifted a little so he could use his free hand to pull the blanket back up. Shifting a little more, putting his face against Gordon’s chest, he pulled it up and over his head, hiding himself under it. … Not that he was going to stay here the whole night and thus possibly get seen by someone else but… Gordon was so soft and warm.

Benrey had never been this close to someone before; so close he could hear the breath in Gordon’s lungs and the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was new and weird and… he liked it. So much so it seemed to simultaneously fill him with energy, making him need to do something with it, while also making the idea of lying here forever sound pleasant. He resisted the urge to do the former, pressing it down until he was just relaxed and comfortable; doing anything more than lying here quietly would be bad. But he could stay for a little bit, maybe even indeed take a nap. It’d be nice to nap in a spot so warm and cozy. He could easily be up and out before Gordon woke. No one but Benrey ever needed to know about this. … Gordon’s reaction to it might be funny though so maybe he’d stay until Gordon woke after all. Not an excuse to stay longer but to enjoy annoying Gordon.

***

A loud wretched but familiar blaring woke Gordon from a blessedly dreamless slumber. Never had he hated his alarm more. How dare it still be set? He should’ve unplugged the foul, evil thing before going to bed last night.

“Make it stop,” Benrey whined, sounding more upset than Gordon had ever heard him before as he pressed himself more into Gordon’s chest. “Why’s it so loud?”

More concerned with silencing the damn alarm than why Benrey was pressing into him, Gordon reached over him and, with the familiarity of reaching over to shut it off more times than he was proud of, unerringly smacked the snooze button. He held it long enough to make sure it turned off instead of just going to sleep to torment them in twenty minutes because fuck that.

Blessed, peaceful silence restored, Gordon relaxed with a sigh, his arm going limp around Benrey as the tension left his body too. Prior to Gordon freeing his hand to reach the alarm, he’d been all the way under the blanket, his face resting against Gordon’s chest. His arm was draped over Gordon’s side, their legs tangled together.

“Bro, why’d you set your alarm?” he asked, a slight whine still in his voice. “It’s sucks. And why’s it so horrible? You should change to… to music or something.” If he was at all bothered by their current position, he made no move to remedy it.

“I forgot to turn it off last night. Why are we cuddling?”

“Because you said I could join you and then uh… you hugged me.”

Gordon should push him away. He hadn’t agreed to cuddling, just sleeping next to each other, there was room to do that without being this close, but… that would take so much effort and he was tired. Benrey was soft against him and not particularly warm. Gordon ran pretty hot and thus during the handful of other instances in which he’d found himself cuddling someone, the heat the other person gave off was a bit much and thus had always quickly grown uncomfortable. Such wasn’t an issue with Benrey, he was just soft.

So instead of pushing him away, verbally and/or physically, Gordon moved his hand to touch his face. A bit awkward with the way Benrey lay against his chest but he did it anyway.

Benrey flinched away from him. “Whoa, hey, bro, what?”

“We’re literally cuddling, dude. How can you possibly have a problem with me touching your face?” Despite his words, Gordon did withdraw his hand. Him being the one making it weird would be awfully hypocritical… and it was rude to touch people in ways they didn’t want to be touched.

Benrey relaxed again, adjusting himself only slightly. Seems he didn’t have any more desire to move than Gordon did. “Why you wanna touch my face?”

“Uh…” How did Gordon explain he wanted to know what Benrey’s skin felt like without it sounding like he was a serial killer thinking about skinning him to make a purse or something? Probably it wasn’t possible and so no need to be honest about that. “I just want to. So can I?”

“Hmm… all right, only ‘cause you’re warm though.”

Gordon returned his hand to Benrey’s face, this time he leaned into it a little instead of flinching away. He ran his fingers down from his forehead to his cheek to slightly under his jaw; an almost caress but he was just feeling. His skin was unnaturally smooth, the texture not like human skin at all, which might’ve made it creepy except it was fairly pleasant, almost a little like running his hand over the surface of a toy slime. Which brought with it the sensation that if he were to press his fingers into it hard enough, it would deform and that was a bit creepy. It was also fairly cool, as expected given that the whole of him wasn’t giving off much, if any heat, despite how close they were. The forehead down to about where the preternatural shade over his eyes ended could even be described as cold. Outside of the danger and hectic chaos of the resonance cascade’s fallout, Gordon could finally start to appreciate how odd and interesting of a specimen he was. He might have to take a thermometer to him later. For now though, he was satisfied.

He pulled his hand away and draped his arm over him again instead. An almost hug but really, with Benrey pressed so close, where else was he supposed to put his arm? “I think you might be cold-blooded.”

“What does that mean in uh… sciencey terms? ‘Cause it means something different, right?”

Given that this wasn’t Gordon’s field of scientific expertise, he perhaps shouldn’t have drawn a conclusion based off so little evidence. But did it really matter that much? “It means your body doesn’t produce much heat.” Obviously it was more complicated than that but Gordon was way too sleepy to try to explain better.

“Is that why warm stuff feels so nice?”

“Maybe, yeah. So… I guess we can stay like this.” It was a bit of an awkward position to cuddle someone in but most of the discomfort it would cause was on Benrey’s part and he didn’t seem to mind.

“Sweet.”

“Just don’t tell anyone ‘bout this.” After the assumptions the others had made upon Gordon complaining about sharing a bed, he didn’t want to know what they’d say if they found out he’d willingly cuddled Benrey.

“’Course not. It’s uh… our little secret.”

“Good. Want me to pull the blanket back up?”

Benrey hummed an affirmative.

Gordon pulled the blanket back up to his chin, encasing Benrey in his arms under it. He then shifted, curling around Benrey a little more, entangling their legs a little tighter. Nothing weird or strange about this. The dessert got cold at night and the heaters and air conditioning had been turned off to save power so he was just helping his cold-blooded buddy keep warm. Yeah, temperature probably couldn’t harm him in any substantial way but that didn’t mean the cold wasn’t unpleasant. So this meant basically nothing other than Gordon felt bad enough for him to put up with cuddling him. He could relate to being lonely after all.

Over the next few minutes, Benrey’s breathing deepened as he went lax against Gordon again. Had he ever had anyone fall asleep so easily in his arms before? … Not that he could remember. The last time he’d even cuddled anyone had been a boyfriend he’d had in his first year of college. Cuddling had never lasted long though; too warm and they were both too busy with school work to have much time to lounge around in each other’s arms. The latter being what ended their relationship and why Gordon hadn’t been in serious relationship since, work taking the place of school once he’d got hired on at Black Mesa upon graduating.

This was nice though. When awake, Benrey was an annoying, dangerous bastard. Asleep, he was soft, cuddly, and quiet. Gordon could get used to this. He probably shouldn’t let himself sleep though. The alarm had been set to go off at 5am, way too early to be up, but the drive back to Tuefort was long, an early start would be wise. So probably he should get up in maybe an hour or two? Surely he could…

An odd rumbling sound interrupted his thoughts. He blinked opened his eyes to look around the room for its source, not that he could see much in the dark without his glasses. But as it grew stronger and louder he didn’t need to see to tell where it was coming from.

Benrey, still snuggled in his arms under the blanket. Him snoring? … No. Even if it followed the rhythm of his breathing, it was too continuous to be snoring no matter how weird an animal he was. Gordon could feel its source in Benrey’s chest and back where his arm touched. Having grown up with cats, it wasn’t the exact same sound or feel but it did have some very familiar vibes.

“Benrey, are you… purring?”

No response of course, Benrey was fast asleep. One wasn’t needed though because what else could it possibly be? Given that he wasn’t a cat, his reason for purring might be totally unrelated to why cats purred. Maybe it just meant he was in a specific stage of sleep; instead of REM, he purred. But while they were cuddling? And he’d made it very clear he liked how warm Gordon was. So maybe it was because he was comfortable and content.

Regardless of why though, it was something Gordon could tease him about it later. … Unless he didn’t find it embarrassing. But he had to, right? He liked to come off as cool and purring was far too adorable for anyone to ever find it cool. So yeah, Gordon would tease him about it later. For now though, it was soothing, pulling him back towards sleep. Maybe not a pull he should listen to but… he didn’t really have much choice in the matter.

~

Next Chapter

[dg-outlaw]

Batfam Retail and Character Agency

So I've been thinking about how some people take issue with certain ships in the Batfam, especially in fanfic or general fanon. For example, JaySteph and how people will cry "ince$t" when these two or other characters are paired up in a ship.

One, I don't think these people know how biology/ancestry works because the only blood related members of the Batfam are Bruce, Damian, and Kate Kane despite them being called the BatFAM. Two, most of Bruce's adopted children were older or barely interacted in a sibling way as far as growing up together. Sure, they might have a sibling-coded relationship and are legally related, but the best example I can think of in how the Batfam works is not the Brady Bunch or Cheaper by the Dozen, but that they all are or have been co-workers at the same minimum wage retail store. Friendships, drama, dating, rivalries, and other such nonsense is sure to happen. It's called forced proximity and shared experience.

I'm thinking of writing up a humorous parallel of who's who in the retail realm when it comes to the Batfam, but including it here would make this post WAY too long

The other annoyance, that I sort of get IF looked at from the POV of DC editorial or writers (if that's their ill-conceived intention), is the idea that a character, more specifically a female character, is just getting "passed around". Instead, my only guess is that whoever is complaining about this is saying that the male character should be given a new, shiny, fresh off the showroom floor love interest and not some high-mileage used model. I use a car reference here because that's exactly how that female is seen when a person says this, whether they acknowledge it or not.

The female character, for example: Stephanie Brown, is no longer a person with her own autonomy and ability to choose or have agency. She's an object to be owned, possessed, or used for the sake of forwarding the male character's arc or to add drama (e.g. fridging or damsel in distress). To imply that Stephanie Brown (or any other character) is being "passed around" from Tim Drake to Jason Todd is to imply that Steph doesn't have nor did she ever have choice in the matter (again, JaySteph isn't even canon, but if it were to become canon, some people would still have a fit). And yes, these are fictional characters, but in writing them (whether officially by DC or in fanfics) they should be treated as real people with real choices and not some object or virginal "bride" for the male protagonist where you'd retcon past relationships.

Has Stephanie Brown always been treated fairly in comics? No. Has Jason? Also, no. Would pairing these two be some sort of "passing around" or "sloppy seconds" for Jason? If I have to answer that for you or you think 'Yes', then you probably don't see women as people. Canonically, I think Jason has had more love interests so if anything Steph would be the one getting someone else's "sloppy seconds", thirds, fourths, etc.

Again, see the above about retail co-workers. Steph once dated Tim. It was their first job and their first real, young love. It was good, it was bad, they made out in the break room, they broke up in the middle of Customer Service, etc. Former employee, Jason, comes by and picks up random shifts when Bruce is really desperate. Steph and Jason meet and hang-out over a few shifts, even though Bruce doesn't trust either of them and would rather they work somewhere else. Maybe they got stuck working Black Friday and the holidays together and boom, sparks happened. It's maybe weird or awkward for Tim, but Tim fell in love with the snack and soda machine vendor, Bernard, so it's really no big deal.

So if someone can date their co-worker, break-up, and then date another co-worker, it should be none of your damn business (assuming everything is legal, consenting, and above board) if none of those people are you.

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

[aggold15hi01]

Paula's writing- Getting well soon- Esteban Ocon and Reader Fan Fiction-Part 2-Visiting the doctor

Author's note: Okay, so this is the second part of two part Fan Fiction of Esteban Ocon and Reader Fan Fiction thus I wanted to put into one single Fan Fiction post however I have decided to split it up into 2 parts therefore enjoy this two part Fan Fic from me to everyone.

Also inspired by the dermatologist visit I did in real life on last Friday back in MY obviously.

Plus also how can you not truly love Estie? It's like he is so underrated but I can also think he can be an actual gentleman in my very own opinion along with the others drivers I could think of obviously.

TW: Is there any? But I don't think there is any for the second part obviously.

After finishing your breakfast; he takes the tray from you with both the empty bowl and the empty cup now sitting on the tray to bring it into the kitchen for cleaning up the dishes while you decided to truthfully choose an outfit where you can dress up properly for your medical check-up with the doctor and meanwhile, after washing and rinsing all of the dishes properly; he went to the living room and reads one of your favorite contemporary fiction novels which is a physical copy of the book called "Before the coffee gets cold" where you did owned the physical copy of the book and now you are currently reading it.

Although it does takes you minutes or perhaps hours for you to choose an outfit where you can dress up without looking too hard or even looking too over the top for a 'normal' outfit thus you settle for a comfortable pair of a black flare track bottoms and a favorite white tee shirt with a graphic art of the famous area of Waikiki across the tee shirt plus a favorite cap to complete the outfit as well as pair of comfortable white socks you are now wearing it before you can wear your favorite pair of sport shoes.

"Is this look okay?" You ask him just as when he looks up at you with a realistic excited expression on his face although it is a 'normal' and an ordinary outfit you would normally wear it in your very own every day daily life and nothing out of the ordinary.

"Oh yeah, you do look amazing though." He replied happily while you added: "Yeah, but it is only an ordinary outfit I would usually wear it every day in my very own life; Ocon."

"I know, but you look fantastic though thus I know it is an ordinary outfit but you look amazing though." He replied sounding sincerely delighted with the outfit you are now currently wearing it just as when the both of you are heading to the small bench where it is located next to the shoe rack you bought it from Target.

"Oh wow, thank you; Estie." You replied to him; sounding genuinely shy; taking a pair of your favorite signature running shoes and a seat on the bench to putting on all at the same time.

"You're welcome." He replied happily while slipping into his favorite comfortable pair of slippers before you grab the car keys and the apartment keys before the both of you head off to the parking basement to the car where you let him do all of the driving just for you.

"After you, my lady; mon cherie." He replied while opening the passenger car door just for you to enter in before closing it and walking to the driver side of the car.

"Thank you." You replied to him; clicking your safety belt at the same time.

"You're welcome." He replied to you with a sincere and an unguarded yet a warm wink where he let you know that he'll always be there for you as a man of service.

[malum-forev]

The Prodigal Son

Hi hiii so this is kind of a prologue! I wanted to get your guys' feedback! I noticed you really liked these two minis I posted of Mob!Bucky and I kind of want to write a mini series. What do you guys think?? Pls let me know in the comments!

From the moment you were born, you were spoiled. You wouldn’t know until a few years later that you were born into a very important family and the most feared man in Brooklyn, was your father. To many, he was a cold and distant sentencer, but you only knew him as the kind soul who picked up a son from the streets. 

James Buchanan Barnes was the prime example of right place, right time. Born to a gambling father and an alcoholic mother, he spent most of his childhood on the streets. Sneaking away from people who his parents owed money to and charming old ladies to earn a dime or two. He soon realized that it would be easier to relieve his parents’ debts if he found a way to get on people’s good side before his parents got on their bad one. So, James started hanging around the popular underground casino.

James soon realized that every Tuesday and Friday at two thirty pm, a nice car would pull up to the entrance of the restaurant and stay parked outside for three hours. The customers inside would always leave once the man in the black coat arrived. 

But twice a month, the car would come covered in mud. So after noticing the pattern and following it for two weeks, he decided to invest all his capital- around one dollar and some change- in car cleaning supplies. 

He hurried down the corner as he saw the black car come to a halt. The tall man opened the door.

“Hello Sir, good afternoon. I couldn’t help but notice your car is dirty.” James had rehearsed the dialogue in the mirror at least a dozen times. “I would like to offer you my services, I have the latest technology in car cleaning and detailing.”

The tall man looked down at James, eyeing the contents in his bucket. 

“Latest technology huh?” he scratched his chin.  “And how much is the wash going to set me back?”

“I can assure you this will be no set back.” James stood straight as an arrow and looked the man in the eyes, even if he had to crane his neck almost all the way back. “I can see you are a wise man who cares for his vehicles, after I am finished with the job you’ll see why this is a great investment.”

“Investment?” The man repeated, fighting back a smile.

“Investment.” James assured. “Three dollars is what I charge.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Three dollars? I might as well buy a new car with that kind of money. Why should I let you wash my car instead of the man across the street?”

James shook his head. “You see, Mr. Host does a fine job cleaning cars but, he isn’t qualified to treat pieces of art like the ones you drive. Most people who come around this part of town, don’t have this kind of car. I, on the other hand, know that this is the newest Cadillac model. The 1930 engine is quite fussy and if even one ounce of soap gets into it, it becomes useless. I would never let that happen.”

The man looked down at his watch and realized it was five past two. It was the first time he had ever been late to a meeting, and he hadn’t even noticed. 

“Knock down fifty cents and the job’s yours.” The man told James, stretching out his hand to seal the deal. 

James looked down at his outstretched hand but before he shook it, he added: “I’ll knock it down to two dollars if you give me the job twice a month.”

The man nodded and shook the boy’s hand, taking two steps away and opening the restaurant door. 

He stopped. “Why two times a month?”

James smiled. “Because twice a month you come here from upstate, getting your wheels filled with mud.”

“You’ve been following me, Son?” 

James shook his head. “I like to call it Client Research, Sir.”

The man couldn’t fight a smile anymore. “You’ve got a name?”

“James Buchanan Barnes, Sir.” He said.

“I’ll see you in two weeks, Bucky.” The man said without turning around. 

James couldn’t stop smiling the whole time he washed the man’s car. Firstly, because it was the first time ever he would be assured a paycheck and secondly- and most importantly for him- it was the first time in his fourteen years of life someone had given him a nickname. 

Pls don't forget to comment and reblog if you are interested in a mini series (probs 5 chapters). thank you love youuu!

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @hallecarey1 @send-me-styles @jessicaloons @shewhojumps @honeyglee @giftedyoungster3000 @likehonestlysametho @batmanbiersack02-blog @calwitch @im-a-marvel-ous-hoe @soldiersweiner @maggiejackson3 @chelseaslibrary @kittybeansbarnes @ryebr0d @leyannrae @jvanilly @marvel-stories33 @casa-boiardi @ilovetaquitosmmmm @bucksangel @claireelizabeth85

*I have tagged those who commented and reblogged my last Mafia!Bucky story, I hope that's okay! If not, please message me so I can take your @ off the tagged list :)

[noneedtoamputate]

Happy holidays, @land-sh. I'm your HBO War Secret Santa, and I hope you like this modern holiday AU featuring Ron and Carwood. I know you don't live in the United States, so I wanted to let you in on a few things in case you didn't know (and my apologies if you already know). The Pentagon, where Ron works, is home to the U.S. Departmen of Defense, and Instacart is an app where you can order groceries and get them delivered to your house. Fair warning for anyone else reading, it's just a tad spicy toward the end. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful holiday season, no matter how you celebrate!

Ron stared at the calendar hanging in the kitchen. If looks could set paper ablaze, the month of December would have burnt to a crisp thirty seconds ago.

He took another sip of his steaming black coffee, careful not to let any get on his Army dress uniform.

He took the calendar down from its hook and walked over to the kitchen table they purchased three years ago, when Ron accepted a desk job at the Pentagon and Carwood left active service and started teaching history at a local high school. 

Car’s messy handwriting filled almost all of the squares. He had Army reserve duty the first weekend of the month, and as assistant coach of the boys’ junior varsity basketball team, there were practices or games almost every weeknight up until holiday break. There was the neighborhood cookie exchange, where he promised to make his famous gingerbread people, and then there was the Santa Paws fundraising event at the humane society. Car volunteered to dress up as Santa.

Ron’s small, neat cursive only filled Mondays for his personal training appointments and on December 22, with one word and arrow ending on December 30.

Home.

No one at work would ever guess that Lt. Col. Ronald Speirs loved Christmas. He loved the lights, the movies, the gifts, and, most importantly, being with the people he loved. He hadn't made it back to his parents in Massachusetts for the holidays since moving to Washington. He finally had enough seniority in his department to take an entire week off in December.

He couldn't wait to taste his mother’s shortbread, to be spoiled by his sisters, to take his nieces and nephews sledding. There really was nothing like Christmastime in New England. 

He heard Car come down the stairs of their townhouse. He wore a black turtleneck sweater, fitted tan pants, and loafers. If Ron’s teacher had looked as half as good as Car, Ron would never have passed U.S. History. 

Car smiled at him as he walked over to the coffee maker. 

“The calendar’s getting pretty full,” Ron said, trying to sound casual.

“December’s always busy,” Car replied as he sat down across from his husband. “But not too busy that we can't find time for each other.”

“Movies?” Ron asked. 

“Of course. Die Hard. Love Actually. We’ll watch them all.”

Ron leaned closer. 

“And we’ll drive around to look at the lights?” Ron was a sucker for Christmas lights.

Car nodded. “I’ll drive, so you can really look at the displays.”

Ron smiled. “Well, if that isn't love, I don't know what is.” He reached over to kiss Car.

“I gotta run.” Car picked up his travel mug. “Have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Ron replied.

He finished his coffee and tried to get into work mode, the mode where no one would guess he loved watching Home Alone with his husband and dog and a fire roaring in their living room.

*

The next week, Ron looked at the calendar again. 

He was not happy.

“Why do you have ‘choir concert’ filled in on Wednesday?” Ron asked as Car buttered his toast.

“Yeah, about that …” Car trailed off as he nervously scratched his head. “Mrs. Ramirez needed some help setting up for the holiday show.”

“That was supposed to be movie night.” Ron tried not to sound too upset. 

“I know,” Car conceded. “Practice gets out early Friday night. We’ll have movie night then. I’ll even make the popcorn.”

“With extra butter?” Car nodded, Ron’s mouth curled up into what was almost a smile.

“It's a date,” Ron replied, and gave his husband a kiss.

But movie night never happened. A student teacher’s car wouldn't start in the faculty parking lot. Car tried jumping it, and when that didn't work, he waited while they called a tow company and gave them a ride to their apartment. 

By the time Car got home, Ron didn't feel like watching anything. 

“What was I supposed to do?” he asked Ron. “I couldn't just leave them there.”

“Of course not,” Ron agreed. 

But Ron lost his patience the following week when he walked into their home office and saw Car furiously typing away on the computer keyboard. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Ron said. He stood behind Car and put his hands on Car’s shoulders, giving them a gentle rub. 

Car moved away from Ron’s touch and rubbed his temples. 

“What's the matter?” Ron asked. 

“Two students asked for recommendation letters at the last minute. I need to finish these tonight.”

Ron narrowed his gaze. “You could have said no.”

Car sighed. “No, I couldn't. They’re great kids. Smart, responsible …”

Ron cut him off. “Asking for a recommendation letter at the last minute isn't responsible.”

The two just stared at each other. 

“You need to eat,” Ron finally said.

“I'll grab something when I'm finished.” Car went back to looking at the monitor. 

“And I guess this means no looking at lights tonight.” Ron crossed his arms.

Lulu came into the room and nuzzled up to Car, looking for some love. 

“Can you take her? I can't focus with her with trying to get attention “

“You don't even have time for the dog?” Ron asked, no longer hiding his anger. He leaned down to pet Lulu. “C’mon, girl, let's go for a walk.”

Ron set off on a good clip toward the park, Lulu happily keeping up the pace. 

Why does he do this? Why does he put everyone first?

He felt disloyal asking himself the question, because the way Car looked out for people was one of the reasons Ron loved him so much. 

Ron hated admitting that he felt jealous of all the attention Car had shown other people this month while making no time for him, or so it seemed.

And sadness crept over him. They seemed so distant over the last few weeks. No cuddling on the couch, binging the latest series. No long conversations over dinner. No spooning in bed before falling asleep.

And certainly no sex.

The brisk air and exercise cleared his head a bit, but he still paused for a second before opening the front door. The house stood quiet, and the chicken tetrazzini on top of the stove remained untouched. 

He threw the baking dish back into the oven to reheat and poured dog food into Lulu’s bowl. He ate dinner alone. He rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. He sorted the mail and cleaned out the fridge. When he ran out things to do, he poured himself two fingers of Scotch and tried to read a book, but he read the same page over and over. It was only 9:30 pm, and he wasn't tired, but he gave up and got ready for bed. 

It was just before midnight when Car finally made it upstairs. He didn't say anything as he took off his clothes and slipped into bed, staying far away from Ron’s side. 

“You're going to wear yourself out,” Ron said quietly.

“I'll be fine,” Car replied. Soon, his deep breaths signaled that he was asleep.

Ron put his hands behind his head and stayed awake for two more hours.

*

On the morning they planned to leave for Ron’s parents, Car woke up with the flu: Body aches, chills, and a pounding headache.

He wouldn't admit it. “Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow,” he told Ron. 

Ron titled his head to one side and gave Carwood that Ron Speirs look.

“It's possible,” Car said meekly, not really sounding convinced himself.

Ron called his mom and dad and explained the situation. Though disappointed, they completely understood and sent their love to Car.

He put in an Instacart order. There was not a lot of food in the house, as they planned to be gone for a week. Plenty of Gatorade, rice, bananas, bread for toast. All the ingredients for chicken soup, and easy meals for Ron to eat in between caregiving duties. 

The next day, he felt even worse. Ron added another bedspread on top of him for warmth and plugged in a heating pad for him to use. 

“You don’t need to stay here. Go to your parents. I can take care of …” Before Car get the last word of the sentence out, he started coughing. 

Ron rubbed his back. 

“I'm sorry,” Car said, once he caught his breath.

“No reason to apologize for coughing,” Ron replied. 

“No, not the coughing. For …” He started coughing again. 

Ron took a deep breath. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about what he was missing at home. His family, the epic games of Yahtzee, his mom's roast lamb on Christmas Day. 

But he knew Car hadn't gotten sick on purpose. If Ron had gotten sick right before they were supposed to go to West Virginia for the holidays, Car would have taken care of him without a second thought.

“It's okay,” Ron said. 

Ron couldn't have said that the day before and meant it. But today, he did.

*

On Christmas Day, Car felt well enough to get into the shower by himself. They exchanged gifts. Ron bought Car a new messenger bag for work, and Car bought Ron the watch he’d had his eye on for a while. Ron made chicken soup for lunch, and they finally watched Home Alone together on the couch. Car felt asleep halfway through, but Ron could tell he was finally on the mend. 

The rest of the week was mainly more of the same. Ron would make something for lunch, and they would watch one of the holiday movies they never got around to before Car got sick: Gremlins, Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street, It's a Wonderful Life. Each day, they would sit a little closer on the couch to one another, hold hands, spoon. 

New Year’s Eve arrived, and Car felt great. They had an invitation to a party, but they decided it was bit soon to go out.

Ron, being a great cook, made steak and lobster tails for lunch. They splurged on a bottle of good champagne and talked and laughed like they hadn't the entire month of December. 

They turned on a football game, and Ron fell asleep before halftime. He woke up to the feeling of Car’s fingers in his hair.

“I didn't mean to take a nap,” he said, reaching for his husband's hand. 

“You needed it. You've been taking care of me all week.”

Ron stroked Car’s cheek and reached in for a kiss. 

They started slow, almost uncertain, the tension of the last few weeks still present. But then Car traced his tongue along Ron’s earlobe, a surefire way to get Ron hard. Wordlessly, they walked upstairs to the bedroom.

Car started undressing Ron, taking his time. Ron hadn't realized how touch starved he was for Car's hands and lips. He kissed his neck and worked his way down, nuzzling Ron’s chest with his stubble and gently biting Ron’s nipples. Ron couldn't help letting out a moan, and he could feel Car smile against him.

He let out an actual groan when Car grabbed him, stroking him exactly the way he liked. He put the head of Ron’s cock in his mouth and teased him, before taking it all in.

Ron tried to pull away, but Car shook him off. “I want to take care of you,” he said. 

Ron realized that for all the things Car did for other people, he would only do this for Ron. This was just for the two of them. He had no reason to be jealous.

Ron realized and ran his fingers through Car’s hair, staying in the moment and taking in every sensation. He knew he wouldn't last long, and that it wouldn't matter. 

Ron said his husband’s name as he came, and Car kept him in his mouth and teased the inside of his thighs as he came down. He took Ron in his arms, and Ron lay his head on Car’s chest. 

Another thing no one at the Pentagon would guess was how much Ron loved the time after making love, when they would hold each other and talk quietly. He didn't used to, not before he met Car. It was one of the ways he knew Car was the man for him. 

They stayed quiet for longer than usual, enjoying the closeness.

“I am sorry you didn't make it home for Christmas,” Car finally said. “You said was okay, but I know how much it meant to you.”

Ron kissed him. “I was home for Christmas.” He looked the man who meant everything to him in the eye.

“You are my home.”

[cinebration]

Hardly Believe It (Tuck x Reader) [Request]

Hello! How are you? Thankyou for this selfless social service you do here lol. I absolutely love your writing.

Can I request a friends to lovers drabble for Eames or Tuck where they hold hands with their friend so as to not loose them in a big crowd?

Thankyou so much💜—Requested by anon

Enjoy this Christmas fluff!

Warnings: crowds, anxiety

Gif Source: dilfgifs

“This is a terrible idea,” you groaned as Tuck finally found an empty parking space. “I should’ve just ordered stuff online.”

“The last things you ordered were nicked,” he countered, killing the engine and unclipping his seatbelt. “This isn’t ideal, but there are no alternatives.”

“Yes there are.”

“Really? Enlighten me.”

Resisting the urge to smack the back of his head, you grumbled, “I could just not get anything.”

“And disappoint your family?” He snickered. “What would your aunt say?”

Lips twisting in displeasure, you folded your arms over your chest, the seatbelt still firmly attached to its anchor. “What if I give you my credit card and you can just buy it all?”

Tuck eyed you, then arched both eyebrows. “Fine. I will go and buy the most inappropriate things in the place for your loved ones.” He pulled the keys from the ignition.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Serves you right for being stingy.”

“You wouldn’t,” you insisted. “You’re British!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Stiff upper lip and all that crap, you know!”

Snorting, Tuck opened the car door and stepped out, letting it fall shut behind him. He slipped out of view.

“You forgot the credit card,” you shouted through the glass, groaning again. With the engine off, the winter chill began leeching the heat out of the car.

Your door opened, Tuck leaning down and across to unclick your seatbelt before you could protest. Yanking you to your feet, he hip-checked the door shut and began herding you through the parking lot and into the mall.

“Bastard,” you hissed.

“This is payback for the bowling incident.”

“My God, aren’t you ever going to let that go?”

“Bowling!”

Rolling your eyes, you managed to quip before Tuck pulled open the department store door, “FDR had a great time.”

“Yes, well, he’s American.”

A wall of heat hit you as you entered the store. The heating unit had been working overtime to combat the winter cold, and the sheer number of people milling around inside for last-minute Christmas shopping added a stuffy layer of humidity you immediately wanted to escape from.

“Please,” you whispered, seizing Tuck’s elbow. “This is almost as bad as Black Friday.”

Anxiety flooded through you as you recalled the Black Friday from two years before. Crushed in a mass of bodies, elbows digging into ribs and hips, you had suffered a bruised collarbone and a twisted ankle when some man yanked the box from your hands hard enough to send you flying into someone else’s shopping cart.

“I’m here this time,” Tuck assured you. “And it isn’t as bad, see?”

You swept your gaze around the mall. All you could see were the last-minute shoppers milling the aisles, the space filled with a sea of bodies.

“They’re less rabid,” you conceded—but just barely, anxiety buzzing painfully beneath your skin.

Tuck started forward, weaving his way through the crowd. You hesitated to follow, and the crowd swallowed him up.

“Tuck!”

You scanned the crowd, struggling to distinguish his head from everyone else. Panic clawed up your throat, raking icy fingers along your spine as your breath grew ragged, heart thundering in your chest. There was nothing but people, a crushing onslaught of bodies you couldn’t get through. They shot you strange glances, lips curling into sneers, jeers of laughter ringing in your ears.

“Tuck!”

“I’m right here,” Tuck said, appearing beside you.

Tears filled your vision. Furiously blinking them away, you breathed a sigh of relief, a trembling hand pressing to your forehead as you caught your breath.

“Come on, then.”

“I can’t do this,” you muttered, your fingertips coated with cold sweat.

Tuck’s hand pressed reassuringly on your shoulder. Glancing at him, you met his comforting gaze.

“I’m right here,” he repeated. “You won’t get hurt.”

Still unconvinced, you managed a jerky nod.

Tuck’s hand slid down your shoulder and closed around yours, fingers intertwining. Frowning, you stared at them as Tuck led you through the crowd, weaving easily among the shoppers with no incident. His hand was warm, palm dry and rough, scraping deliciously against yours. You found yourself focusing on the sensation, distracting you from the chaos around you.

“Where’s your list?” Tuck asked.

“What?”

“What are you buying for your family?”

“Oh.” With your free hand, you fished around in your pockets until you found the unevenly folded list written on a paper towel. Tuck took it wordlessly, but a chuff of amusement slipped past his full lips.

“Most of these are found in the same section,” he noted. “We’ll finish in no time. And the queue isn’t too long.”

“Sure,” you mumbled.

To your surprise, Tuck wasn’t wrong. The little basket he picked up on the way inside filled with gifts in twenty minutes, and then you were both in a medium-length line for the cashier. Tuck held onto your hand the entire time, even all the way out to the car.

When you had to let go, you felt the loss of his touch keenly in a way you never had before.

The drive back to your home was quiet, your thoughts a confusing whirlwind. Tuck helped you carry the gifts inside.

“Now, then,” he declared, having deposited them on the kitchen table. “Where is your gear?”

“What?”

“To wrap the gifts, love.”

Heart tripping in your chest, you retrieved the gift-wrapping supplies from above the linen closet and dumped them onto the table. “You don’t have to help.”

“Why not? I don’t mind.”

After a few minutes of silent wrapping—though the work itself wasn’t quiet, the bags and wrapping paper and tissue paper crinkling in a comforting cacophony—you said, “Thank you, Tuck.”

He flashed a warm smile in your direction. “It’s no bother.”

“No, I mean…thank you for helping me at the store. I…I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

The smile softened a fraction. “It’s no bother,” he repeated.

Nodding, you slapped some tape onto the gift you were wrapping, your eyes glued to the festive pattern on the paper. The words moved through your thick throat. “How long have we been friends, Tuck?”

“Three or four years now, I imagine.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Do you think…maybe we should try something else?”

The silence threatened to suffocate you. You refused to look up, anxiety breaking out in painful gooseflesh along your arms and the back of your neck.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Quailing, you shook your head. “Nevermind. I’m talking shit, that’s all. Blah blah blah.”

Gathering up the packages that had already been wrapped, you hurried from the room to deposit them in your room. Face burning, you fought the emotions roiling in your chest.

“Stupid,” you hissed to yourself. “Stupid stupid stupid!”

Footsteps followed after you. Heart leaping into your throat, you steeled yourself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tuck repeated, trying to catch your eye.

“Forget it. It’s just the leftover anxiety talking. I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

You tried to step past him. His hand closed gently over your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. The proximity of his body to yours sent a shiver down to your toes.

“Are you saying you want to be more than friends?”

“Look,” you backpedaled, “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to ruin things, okay? You were just so nice to me today, I got confused, that’s all.”

“I know you,” he insisted, preventing you from stepping around him again. “You don’t say anything without meaning it. So answer the question.”

Panic thickened your tongue. “What was the question again?”

The words slipped over his lips in a low whisper. “Are you saying you want to be more than friends?”

Blood rushed through your ears. You risked a glance at him, unable to avoid his gaze any longer. His guarded expression confused you.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered.

Tuck’s lips parted in surprise. You tugged on his grip, desperate to flee, to escape the riot of emotions burning beneath your skin.

“I was worried,” he said.

You shot him a confused frown. “W-worried?”

“I was worried you didn’t feel the same. I was too…scared to ask.”

“Wait…are you saying…?”

His lips pulled into a sweet smile, making your heart ache. Nodding, he lifted your hand up to his chest, pressed it against his heart.

Disbelief disoriented you. “I’m dreaming, right? This isn’t really happening?”

“It is happening,” he assured you, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can hardly believe it either.”

“You’ve…you’ve wanted this? For how long?”

“Months now.”

“And you didn’t say anything…”

“Because I was afraid of losing you if I was wrong.”

“So we could’ve been together months ago?” A spark of annoyance flared. “All that wasted time!”

“Patience is a virtue, love.”

You choked on a laugh. “Sure, now the Britishness comes out.”

He grinned. “It’s my best weapon.”

You laughed, overwhelmed with it all, still confused and not quite believing it. A sense of unreality flooded you.

Tuck closed the distance and swept you up into a kiss, knocking aside all your doubts.

[summerlovingbaby]

funeral

funeral

Y/N walked slowly to the door, her black ballerina flats clicking agaist the wood of her apartment. The room was crowded and stuffy, filled with tense tears and distant family Y/N hadn’t seen since she was little. She didn’t have the heart to tell them to leave. She got them drinks and food, and made sure they were properly accommodated.

The funeral was 2 hours ago, and she wore a little black dress, that she had to buy because she never needed one before, and she put on her black ballerina flats that she never wore, because the back of the heel dug into her ankle, and put on makeup because she wanted to look nice in photographs, and thought the makeup would give her a good excuse not to cry, and went to her mothers funeral, where they burned her body and she was sent back home with a little box of her bones to put on the mantle.

She pulled open the door, without looking through the people hole surprised to see her team, she lifted her eyebrows at the group, all dressed in black suits. Suga standing at the front with a bouquet of white flowers. None of them were smiling which was strange for the team, usually smiling and rambunctious, the distraut mood from the inside of the house, seemed to infect them. Even Nishinoya, who she had never seem in a bad mood more than a handful of times, seemed to be somber.

“ What are you doing here?” She asked softly.

She hadn’t told them what happened. She found out her mom died a week ago, and it wasn’t until she received her little box of bones that she internalized it. She had been so concerned with relatives, and planning the funeral services she never stopped to realize that her mom was dead. It was so sudden and unexpected, just one day she was here and the next she was gone. She got the call Monday at noon, her mom was hit by a car on her way to lunch and died en route to the hospital. She left school early on Monday, lied to the team, and said she was sick, and the team hadn’t heard from her since.

When the team first heard, they assumed it was a minor flu, they sent her well wishes but by Wednesday they hadn’t heard from her, and her absence was noticeable at practice. She was their photographer but took on some assistant managerial roles to assist Kiyoko. And on Thursday Suga made a desperate plea to Takeda who let it slip that Y/N was skipping school to handle funeral preparations, and the wake would be held Friday afternoon, and the funeral would be held Saturday morning.

“ Did Takeda tell you?”

Suga nodded and licked his lips, he offered her the vase of flowers, which she accepted with a vague bow. It then struck her with how rude she was being, she hadn’t said thank you or bothered to invite them in. She stepped to the side and opened her arm motioning them in. The room was crowded with extended family that she hadn’t seen in years.

“ Can I get you anything? Water?” she asked.

Suga sadly shook her head, she looked so small and fragile in the large bustling room. The lights made the purple hues under her skin stand out under her eyes. She looked remarkably thin in her dress, it seemed to swallow her whole.

“ No,” he said quietly. He looked around, the house was sparkling clean, and the various guest seemed well cared for. He watched as Y/N stood awkwardly in the center of her room, chewing at her lip. Someone called her name, and an empty glass of water shot in the air, Y/N nodded and disappeared in a small crowd of relatives to refill the water.

Y/N only had her mom, her dad left when she was a toddler, and no siblings. All her grandparents were dead, and her aunts and uncles she rarely if ever saw. She planned the whole funeral service by herself, and was presuably caring for all the guest afterwords despite her grief.

She returned about a minute later and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It must have fallen from her updo while she was bustling through the crowd.

“ Can I offer you guys a seat?” she said, motioning to the vaguely empty couch.

Suga watched her, the way she subtly shook and shifted despite her stance. She seemed to sway slightly, and despite her smile, she looked like she was on the verge of collapse. She looked thinner, she had only managed to eat scraps since Monday, too caught up in funeral preperations to prepare a proper meal for herself. And her home was so costanlt crowded with guest, she could hardly have the space to breathe.

“ Y/N,” he said softly. He slowly moved towards her, and let his hand graze the small of her back.

It was no secret that Y/N and Suga had something together. To anyone it was obvious that they were clearly more than friends, though nobody seemed to know how to label it. It was love at first sight, at least for him, he saw her in the hall, hunched over her plate fighting her friends for food, and knew that was a girl he wanted to know. They seemed to talk in a language that they could only understand.

He gently guided her to the couch, and her knees pratically gave way underneath her. She had skipped breakfast to take care of her younger cousins and hadn’t thought of sipping water since Friday morning. Her head was starting to ache from the low buzz in the room, and she wanted nothing more than to clean. She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her ankles, looking straight at the wall.

“ You should leave,” she squeaked, “ you guys should be practicing,” they had regionals coming up, and the last thing they needed was distractions. It was very important to the team that they make it to nationals. Especially the 3rd years, it was their last chance.

Suga didn’t respond, just sat down next to her and pressed his forhead into his jaw. He placed his hand on the back of her neck and his other hand on top of his. She felt so cold, and he felt warm. He didn’t speak for a moment, just let her soak up the warmth that he gave her. She sniffed wetly and chewed on her lip.

“ I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “ I am so sorry for your loss.”

“ Thank you,” she squeaked.

“ You did everything by yourself huh?” he asked. Y/N nodded. 

“ It was just me and mom, and now it’s just me,” she squeaked, “ I did everything, I took care of everything,  the funeral and I took care of everyone,” she said.

Her mom was all she had, and now her mom was gone, and she was completely alone.

“ Have you had any food or water?” he asked quietly. He took her lack of response as a no.

Yamaguchi, who stood in the back volunteered to go get a glass, nodding at Suga as he listened to the complex water instructions. She liked her water a specific way, she hated bottled water and preferred it from the sink. But she always put a little salt in the water because it  tasted better and it generally made her feel more hydrated. She didn’t like ice in most of her drinks because it watered down most of her soda’s and she hated the way cold water felt when it went down her throat. But she liked to chew on ice cubes because she was anemic, so Yamaguchi returned with a glass of water, and a cup of ice.

She took the cup of ice and fished out a ice cube from the cup, and placed it in her mouth, chewing it until it melted enough for her to swallow.

He moved his lips to kiss the side of her face, something he did all the time, but never with as much tenderness and softness as he did before. His hand on the back of her neck genlt massasaged the area, and he squeezed the hand in her lap.

“ I am so proud of you for being so strong, and taking care of everyone,” he said. “ But you don’t have to do that now, let me take care of you,” he spoke softly.

Even under the best circumstances, Y/N was stubborn and especially resistant to help. She didn’t like asking, so she didn’t, and if offered she said no about a dozen times before she accepted it begrudgingly. All her needs often fell to the wayside, and she helped other people before herself.

“ I bought a new dress,” she said quietly. She usually wouldn’t wear a dress like this, but she picked it out because she thought her mother would have liked it. “ My mom would have thought it was pretty.”

“ I think you look beautiful,” he whispered, he kissed her again, and the sensation of her lips brought her vaguely from her trance. “ Tell me what you need?”

She let out a wet sniff, she wanted to be alone, but she was trapped in a cramped apartment, full of people she was sure her mother only talked to when someone died. She was stuck catering to their emotions, taking care of them of them, and bringing them food and water. Listening to people talk about her mom, people who barely knew her.

“ I want everyone to leave,” she said quietly. “I invited them because they’re family, but I hardly know them, and I’ve had to take care of them, but I told them they could stay until 4, but I'm tired and my head hurts and can hardly breathe,” she said, her voice was growing panicked.

He looked at the clock, it was 3:50 and no one showed any signs of leaving. A good number of them were vaguely drunk and those who weren’t seemed to be comfortable. He moved his hand to the small of her back, and rubbed in circles.

“ Okay, so how does it sound if we help people get going and then we take you to that ramen place on the corner, the one we went to last week, and we can get you some food, and maybe go on a walk in the park, with all those pretty flowers and trees and get you some fresh air, that’ll make you feel a little better, and then we can go from there?”

Y/N liked the sound of that, she couldn’t remember the last time she went outside and appreciated the beauty in things, and still couldn’t stop smelling formaldehyde, from the wake. She wasn’t hungry, but felt a sinking hollowness in the bottom of her stomach.

The team watched on in abject confusion. They had never seen Y/N so close to the brink of falling apart, she always seemed so sure of herself and confident, and so ontop of things. Making sure everyone was so hydrated and feed, and now they just watched as she barely hung on, so small and fragile. The way her skin stretched over her features.

Suga, took the glass of now melted ice and handed it to Tadashi, and traded it for the glass of water. “Why don’t you drink a few sips, and we’ll start helping people leave.”

She took a small sip, and Suga kissed her on the cheek before turning to the team, who was waiting paitently for instructions. The team then split off, going around the room, pilotely helping them to the door with ease. Soon the room was clear, but the air smelt stale, and was filled with a static silence.

The silence seemed to ease Y/N, though she couldn’t get past the subtle stench of sweat and staleness. She stood suddenly and looked around the apartment, “ I have to clean,” she said suddenly.

And walked to the kitchen, her little black ballerina flats clicked across the apartment until she got to a cupboard and pulled out a broom, and began to swep up the dust diligently. She picked up the little plastic cups and put them in a plastic bag.

“ Y/N maybe you should-” Dachi started, he was gonna tell her to sit down, that they would clean the mess later.

Suga silenced him by raising his hand, and the group all watched miserably as Y/N did her chores. She moved robotically from one task to the neck. She swept the floors, and got rid of the plastic cups, mopped the floors and dusted. She then moved to the kitchen, and began washing the dishes, rolling up her sleeves so water wouldn’t grt on her new dress. 

She polished the silverware, and her moms crystal set and but them away. She then dug through the cabinet, pulled out a large yellow picture, and rather strangely began to make a large container of lemonade, only looking up to ask if they wanted ice in their drink or not.

She took the pitcher of lemonade and placed it on the table in the living room before walking to the doorway, stepping out of her shoes and into a pair of slippers and walked across the room back to the kitchen and bounced on her toes.

“ Are you guys hungry, can I make you something to eat.”

Suga patted the seat next to him and slowly shook his head. Y/N stalked to the sofa and sank down slowly next to him. She looked around the apartment, the it was clean, nothing left to obsissivley wipe down or meticulously sweep. She let her lip form into a pout, and he put a comforting hand on her lower stomach, and she fell apart.

She let out a violet sob that shook her entire her entire body, and sunk into a ball with a loud and painful sounding wail. Suga couldn’t do much in the way of comfort, nothing he said was going to solve her problem. He couldn’t give her what she really wanted. He couldn’t make her mom any less dead. He could only pffer her support now that she was gone.

“ Oh honey,” he whispered, he brought his hands to her scalp and massaged it lightly. “ Let it all out.”

It struck her then, that she hadn’t cried yet. She didn’t cry when she found out, or in the days after. Didn’t cry at all, just buried herself in funeral preperations, and making sure everything was sparkling and clean because her mother liked it that way. And now with nothing left to clean, it all hit her like a truck, and left her in pieces.

“ I miss my mom,” she said through broken sobs. 

“ I know, I know,” he said soothingly. He motioned for the rest of the team to sit, and they all sat where they stood. Most of them looked uncomfortable, but the 3rd years looked like they were barely keeping away tears.

She cried for a while, until her sobs sounded like wheezing and it hurt her chest to breathe. Her eyes went dry and her face was puffy and her vision was blurred. She sat up, and untucked herself, letting her feet fall flat on the ground.

She then realized how embarrassed she should have been. She fell into hysterics infront of her friends, and most of them looked at her vaguely horrified. She knew her makeup was all smeared and her dress was wet with tears, and her face felt all hot with embarrassment. She wiped her face using the back of her hand, and wiped the snot from her nostrils on the sleeve of her dress.

“ I’m sorry,” she said, “ I’m sorry you have to see me like this, I’m a mess,” she sqeaked.

“ It’s okay,” he said.

“ I don’t know what to do?” she said. She didn’t know how to move on without her mom. She was 18 now, so she wouldn’t go into foster care. She would be finically fine after she graduated because the apartment was paid off and her mother had a fairly extensive savings account. Not to mention Y/N had quite a bit of pocket change from the photography we did on the side. She would be fine until she graduated highschool in a few months,  and then college soon after.

She would be fine, but couldn't quite comprehend her moms absence. She was alone now, her only family was gone. She couldn’t comprehend that she wouldn’t be there anymore. No parents to visit her at parents weekend, nobody to stand for her at graduation. She would get home from school to an empty apartment, her mom wouldn’t be there for food or comfort or when she needed her mom. And she really needed her mom.

“ Why don’t we sit here for a bit,” he said. 

Suga knew her, he knew her well. She was kind and gentle and cared so deeply for others she sometimes forgot to care for herself. She was a good photographer because she spent so much time looking for the beauty in others. He knew that she would not let herself grieve, because she typically ignored all the bad feelings and hoped they would go away. 

“ We can sit here for a bit, and you can feel all your feelings, then you can change into something more comfortable, and we can get you some food, does that sound okay?”

Y/N nodded, and let her head fall to his shoulder, she used her sleeve to wipe at her face, and cried a bit. It was no longer pained sobs and wheezing, but tears falling freely down her face with an occasional sniffle. After about 45 minutes she sat upright.

“ I think I’m hungry,” she said softly.

Suga nodded and helped her stand, and watch as she disappeared in her room. His face fell to a frown. She waddled around the corner moments later wearing sweatpants and a oversized t-shirt. She wiped the smears of makeup off, and took down her precarious updo and let it fall to her shoulders.

They walked with her to dinner, and watched her poke at a bowl of ramen before eating a handful of bites, and trailed behind Suga and Y/N as they walked in the park. The pretty one with all the flowers and trees, he took her hand, and it all seemed right, and the fresh air and food seemed to make her a bit better. She still looked horribly sad, but no longer had an era of hopelessness. Suga hadn’t managed to coax a smile from her, but she looked rather lively all things considered.